to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita made no mention of her gods back home by this point – because some had been false, pariahs of trickery and deceit, making the world gather the things that held them at bay – then betraying them all. A world on fire, void of any spirits, denizens, or deities, sacrificed in a great schism and divide; these memories remained firmly in her brow, a nettled knot of last days and moments. Instead of mulling into it any further, or deeper, the light, slight smile remained, gilded eyes settling on the other woman. “A nice change of pace, isn’t it?” The honeybee girl laughed, a chime, a mellifluous sprig of some other kind of joy. More pebbles were tossed and thrown, just to ponder over reactions amongst the surface, the pooling ripple curling along plumes of heat and color. For whatever reason she hadn’t anticipated the tundra inquiry – but then again, she hadn’t known what such a thing was before she’d come here either. “It’s like a field – with no trees or grass. Just endless snow.” Ice as far as the eye could see, until mountains and hills erupted from its flattened surface.
Then the youth merely listened again, eyes going back and forth from Fangorn, to the water, and to the stranger. Of oracles and augurs, of interpretations meant to signify a god’s touch, and Melita wondered over the movement of leaves and what it was meant to signify, a batting of an insect’s wings, the press of the mid-day sun. “Did you ever get to do those things?” Study, examine?
to be the sun
MELITA
