You Know the Truest Me

Amalia Evie is right: Amalia is awake and already at work by the time a late sun rises, illuminating the sparkling snow, a strange winter wonderland in the face of such tragedy. Her commute has gotten longer, the morning trek from the domiciles taking a significant time more than simply hopping down the stairs, but the extra walk is more than worth it for the pleasure of waking at Deimos' side, wrapped in the warmth of her lover's arms, a sword against the dark. A quiet breakfast, a pot of tea, an exchange of kisses and the girl sets off, bare feet leaving paw prints behind her, a familiar, well-worn trail. Then it is into the bakery kitchen, where she sets the morning bake to rise, taking out the loaves left overnight and punching them down into malleable shapes. It is an easy routine, a bastion of security in an insecure time, reliability in work as the world shifts and changes. Everything she knows may be different, but this thing is the same: flour and water, salt and sugar, heat and yeast coming together to make something edible, something that can unite the world. Alone each ingredient has little value, but together, well... It is not unlike friendship, in a way. For most of her life, Amalia did not have many friends, but one figure has filled the pages of the Shield's lonely years. Over the past seasons she has often thought about Evie, the older sister she never had, her confidant when she felt most alone. Where has she been, the red-headed apothecary, while the world has crumbled around their ears? Has she been well, has she been happy, has she been living a full life? It is a long time since Amalia saw the girl, and many things have changed, too many to recount in a single sitting, a constant deluge of shifting tides. Many things have changed, but some things are constant - like the smile that lights up Amalia's face when the older girl walks into the shop, like the way she practically flies over the counter, wrapping her arms around Evie's neck, childish and playful and utterly overjoyed to see her best friend here and well. "Evie!" she cries, her voice tight with relief, not knowing how much she missed the other until this very moment. "You're here!" reach for the stars: but child, first recognize the constellations of light you already carry inside you