Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
At first the confusion was evident in her features, scrunched, furrowed, contemplating, the gears in her mind reeling at an all too swift pace. She took the first statement literally. “Like an Attuned? Or a shape-shifter?” Were there Abandoned capable of such magic – crafting the way their faces altered? Or like those already adapted and molded into those particular facets, animals bound into their soul? But by the time he offered the second, the idea had faltered.
Somebody who could blend in. Who knew the weight and worth of a crowd. Who attracted little notice or attention. Not loud and boisterous like her. Not attention-seeking and dramatic like Sunjata. Not someone in the realms of leadership, unless they were truly canny and subversive. Her elbows went to her thighs, chin resting in her hand as the wheels continued turning. “That could be almost anyone here.” And that was just in Torchline; known for its duplicity. Who was to say the individual wasn’t from the Grounds, or elsewhere?
But then it was the other nuances that followed and coiled that had her eyes narrowed. The hold of his wings. The wayward scrawl of memories not there. Her head tilted vaguely, trying and struggling to decipher too many things at once. Known for her more impetuous, impulsive movements, the skull was likely overwhelmed – but she tried. “What do you mean? What’s stopping you?” A multitude of concussions, injuries, and various acts of stupidity could be on the list. But Vai was usually able to handle those.
Was this something deeper? Unknown?
Was there ever a time when he didn’t seem to be falling apart?
Somebody who could blend in. Who knew the weight and worth of a crowd. Who attracted little notice or attention. Not loud and boisterous like her. Not attention-seeking and dramatic like Sunjata. Not someone in the realms of leadership, unless they were truly canny and subversive. Her elbows went to her thighs, chin resting in her hand as the wheels continued turning. “That could be almost anyone here.” And that was just in Torchline; known for its duplicity. Who was to say the individual wasn’t from the Grounds, or elsewhere?
But then it was the other nuances that followed and coiled that had her eyes narrowed. The hold of his wings. The wayward scrawl of memories not there. Her head tilted vaguely, trying and struggling to decipher too many things at once. Known for her more impetuous, impulsive movements, the skull was likely overwhelmed – but she tried. “What do you mean? What’s stopping you?” A multitude of concussions, injuries, and various acts of stupidity could be on the list. But Vai was usually able to handle those.
Was this something deeper? Unknown?
Was there ever a time when he didn’t seem to be falling apart?
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
