wash away our sore eyed souls

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON IT ROSE TOO SOON AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD Amalia does not have the energy to fuss. She does not have the energy for much of anything. When Jigano leads her home she follows blankly, guided through the Attuned bond to the only place that is still safe. And when they reach the bakery, when Jigano shifts back, Amalia drops any pretenses of having the ability to function, to care. Her mind is a blank slate, a willful ignorance and denial: she cannot think of the things that happened, because to think of them it so acknowledge her part, to admit that she has caused the disaster which occurred upon this day. How long does she sit, silent, in the corner of the shop, a seat at the table occupied by her figure which somehow appears even slighter today, as though one strong breeze would cause her to crumble? Amalia is not injured, not physically at least, her wounds having been tended to by Safrin and the fae. But emotionally? In her soul? For a long time there has been a tear, a dark pit lurking in the girl's bright spirit. She thought, perhaps, she could eclipse it with light, could fill her life with enough piety and purpose, enough friendship and love, that the darkness would close off and she would feel complete. Today Amalia learned the truth: she will never be illuminated, never be whole. She is a flawed construct of poor decisions, and left to her own devices, she will devour the world along with herself. The girl does not look up as Deimos enters. She does not acknowledge Kiada. Amalia cannot understand why they are there. She is staring at Isuma, curled in her lap, her fingers pushing idly through the feathers and fur of the gryphlet's back. She does not look at any of them, because she cannot bear it, to see their disappointment - or worse, their sympathy, the affection and forgiveness she clearly does not deserve. She has failed and failed and failed again, monumentally, magnificently, her good intentions an electric car pushing her further down the road to hell. Jyoti, however, rises from her position by Jigano, swimming toward the behemoth with a hopeful and mournful song, as though enticing him to come and save the girl who is sinking into the dark. a m a l i a You said it's life that moves too much We're losing touch But I'm not losing you