Ophelia
Resounding notes fill the towering space, slow and methodical, purposeful. It contrasts to the surety and speed of Ophelia's own tearing, and the scholar wonders privately at the nuances, curious what it says about the two of them - if anything meaningful at all. Their smile is encouraging and bright, as if they are waiting on the other bank of a shallow river, waiting for Mabel to join them instead of desecrating blasphemous material in painstakingly written tomes.
"Power is something I know little of," Ophelia admits plainly, ever one to face their own faults. "I agree we are superior by virtue of our absence of human weaknesses, but I am still so new to this life. My only power now lies within my words." And those, clearly, are well-crafted despite a life of near-muteness. "Perhaps we can grow stronger together. What fear is there in training when we cannot feel pain?" And they will have all the hours in the world to learn, to strive for greatness, to bumble through beginner errors until they reach proficiency - with or without a teacher.
"Power is something I know little of," Ophelia admits plainly, ever one to face their own faults. "I agree we are superior by virtue of our absence of human weaknesses, but I am still so new to this life. My only power now lies within my words." And those, clearly, are well-crafted despite a life of near-muteness. "Perhaps we can grow stronger together. What fear is there in training when we cannot feel pain?" And they will have all the hours in the world to learn, to strive for greatness, to bumble through beginner errors until they reach proficiency - with or without a teacher.
With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?
