who we are and all that we're trying to be
He could naught but watch as the chosen star flashed, brilliant and blinding, uncertainty landing in his vestiges, in his wake, all over again. He only swallowed it all down, the apprehension, the consternation, when Safrin nodded, when she explained. For a few moments, he was still, silent, placing that kindness, that ambience, that gift in the sanctions of his heart. He didn’t deserve it, but surely Amalia did, and the gesture was overwhelming, glorious, and monumental. Bright stars and symbols, a single one for them, when they were away from one another, when they were bound by other clarities, distinctions, and missions. So the beast stared at it, then back to the goddess, strangled into his own quiet, affected, overcome ministrations. He bowed his head, but then tilted it once more, to pinpoint the exact location, memorize, the stature of the night sky. “Thank you again for this, and everything else.” Because now Amalia could be healed, her legs, at the very least – and then maybe they could go forward, instead if constantly sinking into the mire.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
