Amalia
she was afraid of heights
Remarkably (but really, is it so remarkable?) Jyoti's song seems to work. Beneath them the ground shifts again, opening and releasing, letting them free. Amalia flies at once toward the entrance, not to leave but to capture the whale, take the small starbeam in her arms and hold her close against her chest. "It's okay," she murmurs for the calf, for herself, running light fingers in her starlit skin. "You did it. You were wonderful." The whale coos and sings her reply, relieved and happy to be united again.
When the pair turns back to the tulmhainar they find a starlit sky. Catching her breath, Amalia gasps, her dark eyes filled with wonder and light. Jyoti shimmies from her grasp, crooning happily as she dances among the illusion, adding her own starlight to the scene. She sings in a language Amalia cannot understand, but through her bond she can feel stories of galaxies and cosmic journeys, breeching in a sea of clouds.
Kneeling down before the tulmhainar, Amalia reaches out, unsure if she should touch it. "Come with us," she murmurs, smiling with joyous triumph, ardent affection in her tone. "Come outside and see the sky. We will give you our memories, our strength. Come with us. Please."
When the pair turns back to the tulmhainar they find a starlit sky. Catching her breath, Amalia gasps, her dark eyes filled with wonder and light. Jyoti shimmies from her grasp, crooning happily as she dances among the illusion, adding her own starlight to the scene. She sings in a language Amalia cannot understand, but through her bond she can feel stories of galaxies and cosmic journeys, breeching in a sea of clouds.
Kneeling down before the tulmhainar, Amalia reaches out, unsure if she should touch it. "Come with us," she murmurs, smiling with joyous triumph, ardent affection in her tone. "Come outside and see the sky. We will give you our memories, our strength. Come with us. Please."
but she was much more afraid
of never flying
