Amalia
the shield of safrin
"And you think the Voice wouldn't use it to harm the rest of the world?" Amalia retorts, glaring at the Warden with fire licking through her hair. "They're not my gods- they're ours. Or they were, last we spoke." The Warden had agreed with the Shield, that the Ascended tide needed to be stopped. Now it seems her allegiance has shifted, sending a shiver down Amalia's spine.
She catches Loren's mental voice, turning back with a frown. I didn't want this either, she replies sadly, anger and frustration rife in her mind. I tried... tried to prevent it. I'm sorry.
And then there is more yelling, and a ghost manticore, and just as things appear to be escalating to a fever pitch Loren is just... gone.
Amalia blinks, staring at the place where the Firebrand stood, confusion widening her eyes. "Mort!" she curses, turning back to the others, her face contorted with anger and fear, dark gaze fixing on Morgan. "You were supposed to let me talk to him! To at least give him a chance!"
She catches Loren's mental voice, turning back with a frown. I didn't want this either, she replies sadly, anger and frustration rife in her mind. I tried... tried to prevent it. I'm sorry.
And then there is more yelling, and a ghost manticore, and just as things appear to be escalating to a fever pitch Loren is just... gone.
Amalia blinks, staring at the place where the Firebrand stood, confusion widening her eyes. "Mort!" she curses, turning back to the others, her face contorted with anger and fear, dark gaze fixing on Morgan. "You were supposed to let me talk to him! To at least give him a chance!"
you are slowly growing
but you are still growing
and that is enough
