Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
Melita’s certainty, obstinance, and wild, unhindered tenacity, carved and curved into its indulgences. Sunjata would return, wander in from the tide and currents, and come back to Nate. Start to mend, start to build, start to hasten and cobble together other factions and notions, repair the damage done to reputations, and endure whatever else came their way. How she couldn’t quite fathom, given the latest all-consuming drama, but at least for this part, it was over.
Then there was the recovery. The healing.
Her eyes flickered over her uncle’s, narrowing slightly at his avoidance and deflection, but understanding it too. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he did, and simply couldn’t say. Maybe the unknown was too grand, too great, too surreal, right now, to bother with.
But she wouldn’t be able to supply suggestions either – her life was her own. She’d never really found a way to avoid the discretions of the hellhole she’d once hailed from (save for those memories lost to Ludo – and she wouldn’t recall the action anyway), save for time. Save for space. Save for growth and stubbornness, a wall of forged fire and upheaval. Show them she yearned to say to him – but uncertain who the audience would be. The world? Torchline? Those who doubted or dismayed?
So instead, she leant into what she knew, what clambered around her soul. “I’m going to help prepare the Ark and get ready for monsoons, explore, and then sail with the crew.”
Then there was the recovery. The healing.
Her eyes flickered over her uncle’s, narrowing slightly at his avoidance and deflection, but understanding it too. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he did, and simply couldn’t say. Maybe the unknown was too grand, too great, too surreal, right now, to bother with.
But she wouldn’t be able to supply suggestions either – her life was her own. She’d never really found a way to avoid the discretions of the hellhole she’d once hailed from (save for those memories lost to Ludo – and she wouldn’t recall the action anyway), save for time. Save for space. Save for growth and stubbornness, a wall of forged fire and upheaval. Show them she yearned to say to him – but uncertain who the audience would be. The world? Torchline? Those who doubted or dismayed?
So instead, she leant into what she knew, what clambered around her soul. “I’m going to help prepare the Ark and get ready for monsoons, explore, and then sail with the crew.”
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
