Amalia
the archangel
Even with the drama and danger she endured, it is the quietest LongNight Amalia has ever experienced, and the girl comes out of it feeling refreshed and alive. Keen and itching for adventure and purpose, she spends the last hours of darkness baking up a storm, making a collection of decadent treats delicately decorated with patterns of stars and galaxies, starwhales and spiraling symbols of her love. A chocolate cake with orange zest, some lavender and honey scones, small mince pies each the size of a meal, a bottle of aromatic tea - these are some of the things the girl now lays out on a blanket before the shrine, an offering for a deity she has spent too long outside the light of.
She sits herself cross-legged before her feast, not knowing if her goddess will appear but hoping to be so blessed. Though she may belong to Vi, part of her heart will ever be Safrin's; and it is that starlit deity that the not-Shield now seeks, face upcast to the rising dawn.
She sits herself cross-legged before her feast, not knowing if her goddess will appear but hoping to be so blessed. Though she may belong to Vi, part of her heart will ever be Safrin's; and it is that starlit deity that the not-Shield now seeks, face upcast to the rising dawn.
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
