Amalia
a certain darkness is needed to see the stars
✩
She smiles half-apologetically at Safrin, but her enthusiasm to learn and deep seated curiosity outweigh her anxiety about asking too much of the goddess today. Rising obediently, the Shield goes to collect her personal favorite tea mix, black leaves mixed with cardamom and pepper to create a spicy, aromatic combination.
She listens avidly as she works, utterly fascinated with the tale unfolding. A million questions are forming in her mind: the capitol? Experiments? Putting magic into people? "Was she trying to create abandoned?" The roles of the gods, taken into mortal hands... Amalia shivers at the thought.
The tea is dark and aromatic when she pours it into mugs, setting her nicest one and a pot of honey on the table in front of Safrin. With them she adds a plate of scones, lavender and lemon made earlier that day. Retaking her seat across from the goddess, Amalia furrows her brow in rapt attention. "Machines... Like the Spire Demon? Why? And what... What did they need for sustenance?"
And then there is that word again. Cataclysm. "What was it?" Amalia asks softly. "What did she do?"
She listens avidly as she works, utterly fascinated with the tale unfolding. A million questions are forming in her mind: the capitol? Experiments? Putting magic into people? "Was she trying to create abandoned?" The roles of the gods, taken into mortal hands... Amalia shivers at the thought.
The tea is dark and aromatic when she pours it into mugs, setting her nicest one and a pot of honey on the table in front of Safrin. With them she adds a plate of scones, lavender and lemon made earlier that day. Retaking her seat across from the goddess, Amalia furrows her brow in rapt attention. "Machines... Like the Spire Demon? Why? And what... What did they need for sustenance?"
And then there is that word again. Cataclysm. "What was it?" Amalia asks softly. "What did she do?"
