AMALIA
THE SHIELD OF SAFRIN
i think it's beautiful how a star's light
There is not room in her soul for doubt, yet as the Shield looks upon her goddess something like it creeps under her skin. There is wrath in her eyes as she holds the rose, and for a moment the cosmos seem to silence, and Amalia does not breathe. Doubt is poison, doubt is drowning; doubt will swallow up her soul. She cannot have her faith tested, not here, not in this moment. The rose must work, it cannot fail - it cannot fail - it cannot fail -travels the universe long after it dies
Then Safrin's eyes are on her, and there are stars in them again, and Amalia feels the crushing weight of her abject terror as it slips away. "Safrin!" she breathes, sobs, prays, the name a hymn choked from her throat as she is swept into the deity's arms, her own embrace wrapping around her with the ferocity of a child. Laughter bubbles among the sobs, happiness and relief that it worked, it worked, and perhaps the world can be saved.
Of course she does not take it to heart (except a little, where doubt has darkened her), of course she trusts Vi (though why isn't he here?), of course she will plant the roses (but will they be enough?). And of course she will-
-will-
-no.
It isn't an answer. It isn't a cure. Again the girl feels herself crumbling as her world crashes down, staring up at Safrin with denial in her eyes. Of all the things the goddess could ask her for this must be the worst. "Safrin I...." Can't, the girl doesn't say, because at the end of th day it does not matter what she can or cannot do, only what she must .
"I promise," the Shield of Safrin whispers, meeting starlit eyes. "I will do whatever it takes to save you from the Blight."
That's what I want to be in this world —
someone whose light lingers after I'm gone
