Amalia
she was afraid of heights
A voice. It fills Amalia to her soul, calls to her: the weariness, the loneliness, the sense of being lost in the dark. Tears pull at the girl's eyes; deaf to the world and its turmoils, she pushes further into the earth, her mind searching for the life buried within, so long left without the light. She knows what it is to be forgotten, abandoned, though not to the same extent. You're not alone, she avows, prays, sings with every sinew of her soul. Rae is waiting. Let us take you back to them.
And with the promise, memories: sunlight in the trees, dappling down in a winter scene. Luxere, their horns glowing with promise, coming closer to a little girl. A larger hand holding hers, her grandmother behind her, singing a song to Ludo and Mort. And then the Luxere is coaxed even nearer, eating oats from her fingers, letting her run her hands through its fur. It is one of her fondest recollections, a perfect day when the world was still good. The rest of the world fades away as she focuses in on every detail, trying to paint as vivid a picture as she possibly can, to fill it with possibility and promise.
Amalia continues to try and call to the tulmhainar, recounting her happiest memory in as much detail as she can
And with the promise, memories: sunlight in the trees, dappling down in a winter scene. Luxere, their horns glowing with promise, coming closer to a little girl. A larger hand holding hers, her grandmother behind her, singing a song to Ludo and Mort. And then the Luxere is coaxed even nearer, eating oats from her fingers, letting her run her hands through its fur. It is one of her fondest recollections, a perfect day when the world was still good. The rest of the world fades away as she focuses in on every detail, trying to paint as vivid a picture as she possibly can, to fill it with possibility and promise.
Amalia continues to try and call to the tulmhainar, recounting her happiest memory in as much detail as she can
but she was much more afraid
of never flying
