AmaLIa
shield of safrin
There is almost a level of sacrilege in talking about them here, out in the sun, in the world they no longer belong to- except everything she knows, all she has been told and taught, says that it is the right thing to do. That remembering is the only way to keep them alive, that their names on her lips are hymns to the lost.
Is he watching her, she wonders? Will she see him again?
"Yes." Though she hadn't asked Ludo specifically, she is confident in her response. Of course Peter and Adam are together. If they are in Mort's realm than how could they be otherwise, happy and whole, waiting for the rest of the world to arrive? Her bare feet scratching against the cobbled stone, Amalia tilts her golden head upward, glancing at the behemoth whose hand she still holds. "Together and happy." We'll be that way, too.
Through winding roads and between buildings - it isn't far to get anywhere in the Hollowed Grounds, and they find themselves approaching home quickly. But as the journey continues on, Amalia cannot help a question: "What happened to the people who died in your home? Did... did their souls go somewhere?"
Is he watching her, she wonders? Will she see him again?
"Yes." Though she hadn't asked Ludo specifically, she is confident in her response. Of course Peter and Adam are together. If they are in Mort's realm than how could they be otherwise, happy and whole, waiting for the rest of the world to arrive? Her bare feet scratching against the cobbled stone, Amalia tilts her golden head upward, glancing at the behemoth whose hand she still holds. "Together and happy." We'll be that way, too.
Through winding roads and between buildings - it isn't far to get anywhere in the Hollowed Grounds, and they find themselves approaching home quickly. But as the journey continues on, Amalia cannot help a question: "What happened to the people who died in your home? Did... did their souls go somewhere?"
you can't choose what stays
and what fades away
and what fades away
