Answers In The Stars

Amalia I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map Amalia resists the urge to laugh at Adam's prayer, color and amusement lighting her face as she glances sidelong at her friend. "That was great," she says reassuringly, pulling her legs beneath her and tilting her head. She cannot say she expects a reply, and so it is with pleasant surprise that the girl sees the stars begin to shimmer, Jyoti's lantern glittering softly beneath the autumn light. The usual reverence is present in her face as Safrin appears before her, but it is marred with sadness and despair and guilt at the illness that clearly wracks her deity, the slender and see-through nature of her ethereal and galactic form. Amalia sucks in a breath and tries to keep the tears from her eyes, willing herself to keep from looking away, to face the consequences of their collective passion. She does not ask how Safrin is. She does not question after her health, because it is obviously poor. What good is a shield that does not defend? What use is she as an acolyte, as armor, if she cannot serve and protect the cause she has sworn her soul in service of? "Safrin," the baker exhales softly, her alto voice heavy. "This is my friend Adam. Adam, meet the Goddess of the Stars." And I knew that somehow I could find my way back