'Cause either I get there or don't, Those are both things that I know
The evening has waned and, as the sky begins to darken, a silvery sheen spreads across the heavens. Aurelia makes her way up to the top of the lighthouse where Safrin's shrine awaits. The candlelight provides a subtle, warm glow to the room. When she enters, holding something within her arms, she sighs quietly. Whether it is a sigh of relief or a sigh of apprehension, even she can't quite tell.
She's different now than she was the last time she spoke to Safrin. She's been changed in several ways. She's changed from the experiences since; by the mysterious event in the Oerwoud, by the lightning scars that swath across her body, by the steps forward and leaps backward she's taken.
"Safrin, I'm sorry I haven't come sooner," she says suddenly, "after the Slagveld was set fire, I've been trying to heal, and see things through for Sunjata - for Torchline. It hasn't been easy. Even after getting to the bottom of it, I'm still just as confused ... and angry."
"But the shield you gave me - Safrin, it saved me that night. And Milo... if he hadn't found me, healed me, I might have died. Without your shield, I would never have seen him again, let alone seen another day. I wouldn't be standing here."
Her grip around the pot in her arms tightens but, after taking a breath to resolve, she steps forward to place it deliberately upon the shrine.
It's a pristine white pot, well-crafted by steady hands not her own. Within it, however, are the fruits of her own labor. Beautiful flowers have been grown from seeds in the richest soil she could find. The leaves are deep and green, the flowers a special sort - Gardenia. They bloom only at night, which felt fitting, and so the thick white petals have opened up into rose-like flowers even though the sun has set.
"So I thank you, Safrin. For giving me a chance, I owe you my life. I already promised it to you but, I'll make that promise a thousand times over. Because I..." she frowns deeply, kneeling there before her offering, "I still need you, and I hope that you can forgive me for my mistakes... So much is unfolding. The tension over the Old Gods and the Voice; the attack on the Slagveld. People are making their moves, drawing their lines. Time keeps ticking away. And yet I'm still dealing with my own battles. I don't know that I'm ready for what's coming."
She's different now than she was the last time she spoke to Safrin. She's been changed in several ways. She's changed from the experiences since; by the mysterious event in the Oerwoud, by the lightning scars that swath across her body, by the steps forward and leaps backward she's taken.
"Safrin, I'm sorry I haven't come sooner," she says suddenly, "after the Slagveld was set fire, I've been trying to heal, and see things through for Sunjata - for Torchline. It hasn't been easy. Even after getting to the bottom of it, I'm still just as confused ... and angry."
"But the shield you gave me - Safrin, it saved me that night. And Milo... if he hadn't found me, healed me, I might have died. Without your shield, I would never have seen him again, let alone seen another day. I wouldn't be standing here."
Her grip around the pot in her arms tightens but, after taking a breath to resolve, she steps forward to place it deliberately upon the shrine.
It's a pristine white pot, well-crafted by steady hands not her own. Within it, however, are the fruits of her own labor. Beautiful flowers have been grown from seeds in the richest soil she could find. The leaves are deep and green, the flowers a special sort - Gardenia. They bloom only at night, which felt fitting, and so the thick white petals have opened up into rose-like flowers even though the sun has set.
"So I thank you, Safrin. For giving me a chance, I owe you my life. I already promised it to you but, I'll make that promise a thousand times over. Because I..." she frowns deeply, kneeling there before her offering, "I still need you, and I hope that you can forgive me for my mistakes... So much is unfolding. The tension over the Old Gods and the Voice; the attack on the Slagveld. People are making their moves, drawing their lines. Time keeps ticking away. And yet I'm still dealing with my own battles. I don't know that I'm ready for what's coming."
Aurelia
