a certain darkness is needed to see the stars
Safrin's chiding only deepens Amalia's insecurity, her eyes falling to Coffee's body, arms tightening around the little form. It isn't until the goddess draws the dragon from her arms that the Shield looks up again, dark eyes shining with unshed tears, tired and utterly at a loss. Nodding swiftly at the comment about Adam and Peter, the girl steels herself. No matter her mistakes, this isn't about her. It's about her goddess, about all the gods, and it's about her fallen friends.
They gave their lives to build this shrine. The least she can do is give her heart.
Safrin touches Sunjata's cheek, sparking something ugly in Amalia that she swiftly snuffs back down. She had been there each step of the way; it had not been her disastrous decision to pursue a dragon, but here her goddess is, praising the reckless man. Another deep breath - this isn't about you - and she looks at Safrin as the goddess glances her way, wishing to envelop herself in the starlit embrace, to find solace in the safety of her love.
"We'll live for them," she whispers softly, gazing at Safrin. "And for you. Thank you for... for giving us the chance. And for... for healing me. Thank you, Safrin."
They gave their lives to build this shrine. The least she can do is give her heart.
Safrin touches Sunjata's cheek, sparking something ugly in Amalia that she swiftly snuffs back down. She had been there each step of the way; it had not been her disastrous decision to pursue a dragon, but here her goddess is, praising the reckless man. Another deep breath - this isn't about you - and she looks at Safrin as the goddess glances her way, wishing to envelop herself in the starlit embrace, to find solace in the safety of her love.
"We'll live for them," she whispers softly, gazing at Safrin. "And for you. Thank you for... for giving us the chance. And for... for healing me. Thank you, Safrin."
Amalia
