MELITA
The girl finally meandered over the glories of the sun, dipping her brush into a chaotic blend of orange, crimson, and yellow, yearning to embody fire, heat, molten, infernal splendor – a conflagration that set hearts aflame and protected, guided, their efforts. Prices to pay for a world embedded and ensconced in desert – except not to her, who simply prayed and reigned amidst the grandeur, the opulence, the splendor, of bliss in the cinders. They were light touches and strokes at first, like days spent in her childhood, airy steps and skips over the particles of sand, the granules of vehemence, laughing and playing, until the rays were stretched, broadened along the horizon. While she worked she listened too – pondering over these Gods of many other worlds. “Not visible?” She inclined her head and wrinkled her nose, possibly trying to imagine; though in some cases, weren’t the deities here intangible too, encompassing their omniscient, omnipotent wiles into the vestiges? The girl pondered, hummed under her breath upon reflection. “What were they like then?” Cruel? Vindictive? Absent? Sometimes Helovia’s shrines had been cracked and fissured, marks of abandonment for seasons and cycles – and then the notion ceased, when Bastien maneuvered into another query.
Home? Was this home? She’d managed to survive a year here, despite illness, despite monsters, despite all the other things thrown their way. “I suppose so.” A smile, a shrug, because it wasn’t Helovia, and she was grateful it wasn’t the Rift – and perhaps she simply needed more time here, when the weight of yesteryear’s memories weren’t so daunting or precious. “What about you?” Now that he was married, with a guild, and everything else?
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
