AmaLIa
shield of safrin
What must it be like, to come from a world where you have no concept of what happens next? Where gods are distant, dismissive figments who conceal their whims and obfuscate? Amalia does not know what she would be without her gods: even in her darkest moments she at least has faith to cling to, the confidence in something greater, her place in a design.
Once (this morning) she would have protested the inevitablity of his eternal damnation; now she simple nods once in acknowledgement, biting on her lip. Vengeance is another characteristic of places other than this, another of the countless darknesses for which she has no reference point. "Abasi told me something similar about his world. Gods who would damn you after death...." She shudders slightly, thinking on how grateful she is for the love of Mort.
Grateful, too, to know that her loved ones are waiting for her somewhere beyond this world. As they pair draws closer to their shared home, Amalia cannot help but glance up at him from behind golden locks. "Does it... Is it hard, to know you won't be with them when you die? Your mother and father and... And the girl in the rain?"
Once (this morning) she would have protested the inevitablity of his eternal damnation; now she simple nods once in acknowledgement, biting on her lip. Vengeance is another characteristic of places other than this, another of the countless darknesses for which she has no reference point. "Abasi told me something similar about his world. Gods who would damn you after death...." She shudders slightly, thinking on how grateful she is for the love of Mort.
Grateful, too, to know that her loved ones are waiting for her somewhere beyond this world. As they pair draws closer to their shared home, Amalia cannot help but glance up at him from behind golden locks. "Does it... Is it hard, to know you won't be with them when you die? Your mother and father and... And the girl in the rain?"
you can't choose what stays
and what fades away
and what fades away
