Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
New spaces, new feelings, new connections forged; beautiful things meant to be sacred, wholesome, and pure. Lena’s grin never faded, a bright, blooming conviction in the midst of it all, watching, chin in her palm, with a quiet reverence. These seconds were blessings and gifts, and thereafter would only be as sweet and fortified; content and happy for her sister, to have been chosen by such a creature. Didn’t it only foster more strength? Didn’t it only proclaim more determination? Didn’t it mean she’d been enough for the divine beasts to have thought her worthy? She could only grow from here, wonderful and effervescent Seraphina, Artificer extraordinaire. Pride for her sibling merely continued with an arch of her brow, a tilt of her head to insinuate she was listening while gaze remained riveted and tied to the babe making his presence known in the world – through Sera. “And what does he say?”
For Lena could always ask the youth of his own accord, but something felt like going too deep, into disrupting something newly formed and forged.
She wouldn’t be able to shrug it away, too enamored with the possibilities, with the brilliance, with the sheer cosmic and celestial sanctuary. It was why she tended to the Celestine, why she stuck to her gardens, for it was a shelter, a guiding whim for everyone here.
The subject altered, but her attention didn’t. A thousand other statements yielded and composed into those words, and while the pale hatchling continued his work, her warm gaze swept back over to her sister. “If it does, will you go back there again?” A question on the tip of her tongue managed to not spring forth (and if you do, will you take me with you?), and instead, she meandered back to the other subject, the grin broadening. “Who did you call?” She could guess; because Lena would never be able to – the Attuned nature affording a great many wonderful things, and she’d never take it for granted – but the ability to summon a deity, a herald, was an amazing gift all its own.
For Lena could always ask the youth of his own accord, but something felt like going too deep, into disrupting something newly formed and forged.
She wouldn’t be able to shrug it away, too enamored with the possibilities, with the brilliance, with the sheer cosmic and celestial sanctuary. It was why she tended to the Celestine, why she stuck to her gardens, for it was a shelter, a guiding whim for everyone here.
The subject altered, but her attention didn’t. A thousand other statements yielded and composed into those words, and while the pale hatchling continued his work, her warm gaze swept back over to her sister. “If it does, will you go back there again?” A question on the tip of her tongue managed to not spring forth (and if you do, will you take me with you?), and instead, she meandered back to the other subject, the grin broadening. “Who did you call?” She could guess; because Lena would never be able to – the Attuned nature affording a great many wonderful things, and she’d never take it for granted – but the ability to summon a deity, a herald, was an amazing gift all its own.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
