to be lit up from within
vein by vein
No, no blacksmithing aspects to gods, and she nodded a little from across the way at the notions of Rae, of change, of influential purposes. Maybe this world was a press of alterations, where water and colors blended together into an opus, an oeuvre, a masterpiece, of contortions no human could possibly encompass. “Whomever created it did a fine job,” she murmured, quiet in her crouch, in her stare beyond the pale, conceding defeat in her lack of knowledge and wisdom.The newcomer, the stranger, mentioned home, and a pang swelled in her chest, enclosing over her heart. This was home now, but Melita had others too – some malicious, some radiant, some blistering, some incandescent. Perhaps they would’ve had this too in Helovia, trickled on down from the Veins of the Gods, where pedestals and paragons had fallen, but not their hearts, not their minds, not their souls. “Where did you live?” The youth extended to the other Outlander.
to be the sun
MELITA
