AMALIA
She wants the silence but fears the solitude
She wants to be alone and together with you
Born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snowThey carry on through the moonless night, surrounded by an ever-growing entourage of ghosts. Amalia's nerves flutter with electric uncertainty. She has always been a scholar of the living, not a student of the dead. Yet these are not the vengeful, the damned: they are lonely, lost, loved; they are souls in every sense of the word, and the girl aches for them all. Every now and then she catches sight of another familiar face, and her confidence in their task grows greater, determination strengthening within her narrow breast.
Further, deeper, into the woods they go, the girl with her lantern, the man with his song. A weightless feline brushes by her legs, leaving the sensation of static in its wake. Almost without thinking Amalia reaches down to caress the creature, before remembering that it is another lost soul, another casualty of the longest night.
As their path takes them under boughs and branches, the world begins to feel strange. Amalia blinks, her dark eyes peering into the infinite trees. She knows the Woodlands, and this is not them. Reaching out to brush Jigano's hand once more, Amalia whispers so as to not overpower his song: "We aren't in the Hollowed Ground anymore, I think."
Further, deeper, into the woods they go, the girl with her lantern, the man with his song. A weightless feline brushes by her legs, leaving the sensation of static in its wake. Almost without thinking Amalia reaches down to caress the creature, before remembering that it is another lost soul, another casualty of the longest night.
As their path takes them under boughs and branches, the world begins to feel strange. Amalia blinks, her dark eyes peering into the infinite trees. She knows the Woodlands, and this is not them. Reaching out to brush Jigano's hand once more, Amalia whispers so as to not overpower his song: "We aren't in the Hollowed Ground anymore, I think."
