to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita hadn’t gone to the Voice’s shackles, tethers, and lines; too distrustful, too burdened by her own past and plight with the blight. And while the goddess had healed Sunjata, Nate, and the multitude of others, the youth would take her opportunities for curiosity towards those of the Old; and towards brambles and branches of fire.No hesitation in her youthful steps, she came towards the area, listening to the roar of the water, to the echoing sounds of the chasm. Fangorn bound himself at her side, and the honeybee was simply there to support, to see, to view, to watch, and to learn. In the past, Sunjata and her had speculated about the potential of Tanau, and she wouldn’t let an opportunity slip away. Not coming empty-handed, she slipped her hands into her pockets to produce the variety of beautiful stones, each a different hue, tradition for her prized wares to be granted and given to the heralds. Several were a cool obsidian hue, others a pale, stark glow of ivory, and some muted pinks and blues. “I’ve come to grant you these,” she whispered, light, hushed into the presses of the unknown. “In hopes that you might heal those sick.”
to be the sun
MELITA
