to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Was the Voice a bad influence over them, or was it the control she must’ve been able to muster? Did they depend on her for almost everything? Were they allowed a semblance of freedom, some ability of liberation, or were they tied and tethered to her forever? Melita found she’d never asked any of these inquiries towards the Ascended she knew; partially because she hadn’t thought them previously (too many other things going on, tangents to chase, adventures to be held), and wasn’t certain how they’d respond. With fury? With indignancy? With inquiries of their own? “I guess we’ll see how things go,” she offered, not much else to add; no contortion, no power, over the circumstances before them. Only the aftermath, and how they could recover from whatever came next.Then there were impending departures, and the girl nodded her head, rising from the ground to follow suit. “Melita.” A smile broadened, not cheeky, not impish, but kind and genuine. “Nice to meet you. Good luck out there.” She paused, eyes flickering over the varnish of color again. “If you need me, I’ll be back in Torchline after the spring.” Hopefully, if plans along the Ark went well. Thereafter, the youth grabbed hold of the nesting, resting Fangorn, tucking him under her elbow, before hastening off with a wave.
{FIN}
to be the sun
MELITA
