sound the bugle now

amalia chandrakant there is a color that shines through your skin Like the moon on the wind As the captive people begin their ascent, Amalia slips away. There is no part of her which wishes to re-enter the Spire: once was enough to prove disastrous, and even now despite Evie's ministration her lungs still burn with fire. The world as they know it is crumbling and falling, and the baker will not have any part in its destruction. Armed with her antler staff and Ludo's lantern, Kristopher's head still clasped in her other hand, she retreats away from what she fears, in search of the only thing which has been constant in her life. Leaning on her staff before the circle of the shrine, Amalia coughs bitterly, her throat alight with the searing of smoke. She gasps, tears streaking lines in the dust of her face- but they are not just from the coughing, the pain. "Safrin!" Amalia cries to the pre-dawn sky, "Ludo! Frey! The Spire is open, and the Voice-" She coughs again, her plea cut off as her body doubles with the spasm's strength. No longer able to bear the weight of it all, Amalia falls to her knees in the grass, dark eyes downcast upon her clasped fists. "We tried to stop them them..." the girl wheezes, her voice used up, her vocal chords raw. "They killed everything, and they forced their way in, and we couldn't... I tried to save them..." Turning red eyes up to the starlit sky, Amalia's tears continue to fall as she whispers her final plea. "I'm sorry... Old Ones, please, I don't know what to do." the night is full on behalf or your evaded mask And the rings round your eyes

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