EVIE
like love is a bad word
The name doesn't mean very much to her, only knowing the man in vague passing ideas. Evie is unlikely to even be able to pick him from a lineup, but she still can't help the frown that purses pettily at her lips. "Hm. I certainly never thought I'd be the last to have a man on my arm." Because there's nothing else to say regarding Maea's sudden change of heart. Evie's and Amalia's opinions clearly mean nothing to the albino woman. Best to turn what she can of it into a more lighthearted direction. Amalia seems worn down enough as it is. That weight transfers to her shoulders like a passing wind, settling like a shroud, as if she's standing beside Amalia once more as they grieve the loss of a mother in unison. The knock of their shoulders is familiar in that way, though it inspires only a soft snort of disbelief. "Maybe...but I think she would have come around to it. I doubt she'd be happy with me for leaving the Grounds and training with Zariah either." Or for broadcasting her magic even more, for breaking through the chains that had held her down since birth and ruining all the work they'd done in concealment and diversion. Perhaps they are both just scared little girls, still swallowed by the omnipresent shadow of the woman who'd raised them.
The light glinting off the puddle helps to chase those shadows away just the slightest bit. Tempered and smoothed by Amalia's familiar voice. Evie may have always been the braver of the two, but only because she has always taken her strength from knowing Amalia is there at her back. She steps forward with only the slightest hesitance, watching the shifting mirage that the surface seems to become as she leans over to better stare into its depths. The image unravels, mystical and wavering. "I see us at the counter kneading dough...and the first time I used my magic. The first time I was able to heal your skinned knee." They are rose-tinted memories surfacing with a clarity she hasn't had in quite some time. But then it changes, and now it's her hand moving to her elbow in a display of insecurity. "And...I see myself, using my magic freely. And my mother doesn't scorn me for it anymore. And the Gods don't hate me anymore." Her voice drops to a feeble wobble, feeling like this puddle has somehow ripped her heart from the cavern of her chest. As much as she wants it to be her future, she feels like it's just what she wants that's being reflected back at her. Because no matter how she has prayed and tried to be worthy of the love of the Gods, even The Voice didn't want her. Maea has Ludo, Amalia has Safrin, and Sam has The Voice. And Evie?
Well, Evie has herself.
