Perhaps Arialla sought out Amalia simply because Amalia was among Safrin's greatest servants. Arialla didn't even dare aspire to such heights. In fact, while her attack and subsequent healing had only strengthened her faith in the Old Gods, something in her cringed at the idea of actually speaking to Safrin again. Once, Safrin's regard had warmed and encouraged her; now she felt unworthy, small, dirty. Broken. If she summoned Safrin, the goddess would know at once what had happened and how hollow it had left Arialla. She would see that there was nothing beautiful left in her, and what was the goddess of beauty to do with that?
Arialla couldn't lie to a goddess, couldn't conceal her condition from Safrin. But she could deceive a mortal woman, even a demigod. She could conceal the flaws in her soul from Amalia -- in her soul, and in her body; she made sure to wear a high-collared shirt to the Temple. Sometimes she bared the scar on her throat as a badge of what she had survived -- to remind those around her how brutal the Ascended were -- but today she wanted to pretend to be whole. Besides, it felt profane to show her wound in the Temple; no work of the Ascended, of the Voice, should enter this sacred space.
Of course, the easiest thing would have been to avoid Amalia and Safrin both. But war was coming, and Arialla wanted marching orders, and she wanted them now, not in eight seasons. She saw no point in waiting and letting the Ascended sharpen their fangs. So if she didn't dare talk to Safrin, she'd go to the Archangel for direction.
Once, Arialla had feared war and her potential role in it. Now she embraced it, embodied it, the Ascended's aggression now written on her body. Once, she would have sought out Amalia to try to save the Ascended's souls. Now she knew their damnation was well deserved.
She pushed all of these thoughts aside as she actually spotted Amalia. Working her way through the worshipers towards the woman, Arialla tugged her collar up and tried for a smile, not realizing that it looked slightly off on her recently-dour face. "Amalia? May I speak with you?"
please don't take my sunshine away
