when I break, I break for you

she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different

When all else fails, Amalia turns back to prayer.

Through her life, there are many who have questioned her fervor to the gods. Pious is one of the kinder things they call her, though many of the labels are far less mild: follower. Obsessed. Self-righteous. Fanatic. Why are you so eager to be a pawn? they ask her. Don't you have a will of your own?

Settling down before the shrine, Amalia exhales and closes her eyes as Jyoti settles in her lap, starlit and splendid and soothing with song. Maybe she is merely a follower. Maybe she does not have a will. She has always been a creature of flaws, insecure and small and fragile. Maybe she was born too broken; certainly it had always seemed to the girl that others had an easier time. Living and bonding and trying and succeeding had always seemed so effortless when others failed. Maybe Amalia simply lacks the ability to be a full person, without a cause to serve.

The thing is, Amalia does not see it as servitude, as blind following or obeying, as being a tool. She sees it as repayment in the only way she knows how. Vi and Mort, Caido and Rae- they have given her a purpose, a reason, a world. The least she can give them in return is her mortal life, meaningless as it may be, because when she does the work they have gifted she knows that she is doing right. The rest of the time she may be a failure, but in those spots of brightness she can see hope, that someday, somehow, she might in fact matter.

That is the light she clings to now, as the shadows tighten their grip on her heart, as the tide of failures rises steadily up to drag her to the depths. Sitting before the altar of Vi, Amalia feels closer to peace than she has in many weeks - not peaceful, not calm, not happy, but close, as though a sliver of that sunlight might reach her through she shade.

She has placed a candle upon the altar, and her shield and staff lay by her side. "Vi," she murmurs to the silence, prayer the song she knows most dearly, "Thank you for the roses. For giving us another chance. The blight is fading from the people, and from the plants... But another danger is rising, and we could use your counsel."

Amalia

we are all b r o k e n
that's how the l i g h t gets in

Danger is rising all the time, and whether or not the God of Life would already be aware of what Amalia wished to speak about would remain a mystery. Understandably, Vi was particularly preoccupied at this time, feeding life to the roses that continued to defy season and blight and heal the world from its influence. And so there was no response for the gentle baker but for the flickering of a candle; the pulse of gentle light; a soothing warmth that filled the shrine.

she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different

He does not answer, except with warmth, and Amalia cannot help the disappointment that wells within her, and the guilt that follows for daring to think he would come to her as the world spins. Vi is busy - how can he not be, with his work in combating the blight, with the rising tide of the Voice, with so many ill and the balance of life held delicately as spiderweb silk, trapped between the fingers of fate?

Vi is busy, but he cares enough to send her a pulse of warmth, and that warmth will carry her through dark days ahead, a stalwart strength in brittle bones.

Exhaling, Amalia sighs, her hands falling gently into her lap as she clenches and unclenches slender fingers, not quite sure what to do at this point. "Vi," she whispers to the shrine, tilting her head up to look at the altar, dark eyes damp with emotion. "I... I hope wherever you are, you are well. And that ... that you have seen Safrin. She loves you, and misses you, and... and she is scared, I think." To ask for death, when one so loves life? The promise she made is a rock around her neck, threatening to drown her day by day.

"And I... I miss you, too. If there is anything that you need done, that I can help with... I am always at your service. And I will continue to do my best to protect life, even if.. if it it's hard. Because I cannot believe that this is what Mort - what you - want." A heavy sigh, a falling tear. It would be easier with an answer, but she has to trust in her belief, in her faith. In him.

"So that... that's why I came. I hope you don't mind if I stay here. Just for a little while." So saying the girl shifts, her body becoming feline and fluid as she curls up around Jyoti, leopardess and starwhale enjoying the peace of the temple, a respite from a surging world.

Amalia

we are all b r o k e n
that's how the l i g h t gets in