Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
Melita, as per the usual rounds of winter preparation, gathered wood. In previous years, especially when the Eirachi shrine hadn’t been decimated, it’d been strictly about survival, for Torchline had been ill-used to the way the cold snaked and ran through its beaches. But LongNight had its own rituals and demands, like drunken caterwauling along the sands, bonfires lit as far as the eye could see, and never imagining monsters touching down upon the sediments.
The stretch of morning and the glory of the salty sea air sprayed against her; she raised her chin in defiance and merriment, springing down along the earth with bare feet and her dress knotted along the side. It didn’t take long to start assembling piles – there was enough driftwood from leagues of waves and currents sending it to land – and Fangorn followed, eager little tendrils whipping about, while Sila surveyed from the air, sometimes coasting downward to breeze over segments before snagging a thermal.
Peaceful. Content.
She reached for another set of vacant timber, humming under her breath, and could barely make out someone else along the horizon, further ahead still.
The stretch of morning and the glory of the salty sea air sprayed against her; she raised her chin in defiance and merriment, springing down along the earth with bare feet and her dress knotted along the side. It didn’t take long to start assembling piles – there was enough driftwood from leagues of waves and currents sending it to land – and Fangorn followed, eager little tendrils whipping about, while Sila surveyed from the air, sometimes coasting downward to breeze over segments before snagging a thermal.
Peaceful. Content.
She reached for another set of vacant timber, humming under her breath, and could barely make out someone else along the horizon, further ahead still.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
