AmaLiA
the shield of safrin
When Amalia opens her eyes again the statue is not a statue anymore. Instead it has taken on a sheen of familiarity and life, so much life that it makes her breath catch, her heart beating quicker and lighter as color floods her cheeks.
Obediently the girl stands, her body moving fluidly towards him like a loadstone would to the north star. Fingers clench against the hem of her tunic, betraying the anxiety which never quite leaves her - but it is an expectant, eager thing, a willingness and wanting to do the work.
Stopping a respectful distance from the god, Amalia raises her chin to meet his gaze, face awash with adoration, stoked with purpose and passion. "Father," the Shield greets with reverence, blushing and stumbling slightly over the word but holding steady. He is father of all Life, after all. "I am ready to serve."
Obediently the girl stands, her body moving fluidly towards him like a loadstone would to the north star. Fingers clench against the hem of her tunic, betraying the anxiety which never quite leaves her - but it is an expectant, eager thing, a willingness and wanting to do the work.
Stopping a respectful distance from the god, Amalia raises her chin to meet his gaze, face awash with adoration, stoked with purpose and passion. "Father," the Shield greets with reverence, blushing and stumbling slightly over the word but holding steady. He is father of all Life, after all. "I am ready to serve."
you're breaking your own heart
