MELITA
She’d never been the mountains.Beyond the awe-inspiring the beauty, and the biting cold that drove its way into her skin, an onslaught, a terrorizing, treacherous thing by its own admission, scorching along her flesh far more than the sun-kissed desert ever had. The girl immediately tucked herself back into a perilous amount of furs, dipping below collars, pushing her hat further down her ears, her crimson locks, weapons banging against her back, and Fangorn in her arms, all huddling together for warmth. Her inclinations weren’t to rush forward for once, taking her time, biding her pace, the unknown gaping and clawing at her, stealing her breath; suddenly wondering what she was doing here at all.
Curiosity. Boldness. Audacity. Things that clung to her, things that were sometimes fortunate, things that sometimes christened and anointed her as a fool. She wasn’t sure which one she’d stepped within now.
Her eyes adjusted to havens of white and sanctums of stretching abyss, until there seemed to be a crowd growing nearby, and she recognized quite a few, Amun, Sunjata (shocked he was here), Jigano, and Loren – the pair scrambled their way towards the crowd, opting to head towards Sunjata. “What’s going on?” An inquiry behind clothing and scarves wrapped around and over her mouth, her nape, billowing air curling from her breath. Only thereafter did she see the intriguing briefcase, and it seemed all of them had been tied and tethered to it – waiting.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
