you must burn brighter than ever
Perhaps this Mildew had fantastic powers, or maybe she didn’t – either way, Melita smiled, coiling the blends of hues back into one another, perfecting an art she hadn’t traced over since the last Fiat Lux. She missed it, in a way, the gentle sprigs, the lulling motions, the familiar presence of distinct fun, rather than constant, agonizing drama. “Stay here long enough, and you’re always going to see some shit.” She shrugged the notions away, for the youth had absolutely no intention of ruining these moments of peace, serenity, tranquility, and amusements.
Tethering the last pieces off, she placed the finished crown down, and immediately began another. The honeybee tilted her head again, tongue sticking out over her lips as she concentrated on her efforts, eyes narrowing just a little as one stem refused to bend to her will. Her gaze only lifted, only shifted, back to Aurelia as the notions of her quest with Safrin came to light, humming a little under her breath. “Safrin can be quite lovely. And I hope things work out for you.” Directions – striving for something, all a wonderful encompassing of growth and alterations. “I think heralds like her know exactly where to pinpoint. She can see inside your soul.” More implicit, more emboldened. Unafraid to embody what needed to be said.
She could understand how her uncle had been caught in the web – and perhaps that was her only misgiving, coiled back within her chest.
“Are you a good person now?” Her gaze flickered, little gilded embers, back to Aurelia, a shrug inclining through her shoulders. “Maybe that’s all that matters.” Then her attention deviated, returning to the art of her craft. “We’ve all done things to survive.”
Tethering the last pieces off, she placed the finished crown down, and immediately began another. The honeybee tilted her head again, tongue sticking out over her lips as she concentrated on her efforts, eyes narrowing just a little as one stem refused to bend to her will. Her gaze only lifted, only shifted, back to Aurelia as the notions of her quest with Safrin came to light, humming a little under her breath. “Safrin can be quite lovely. And I hope things work out for you.” Directions – striving for something, all a wonderful encompassing of growth and alterations. “I think heralds like her know exactly where to pinpoint. She can see inside your soul.” More implicit, more emboldened. Unafraid to embody what needed to be said.
She could understand how her uncle had been caught in the web – and perhaps that was her only misgiving, coiled back within her chest.
“Are you a good person now?” Her gaze flickered, little gilded embers, back to Aurelia, a shrug inclining through her shoulders. “Maybe that’s all that matters.” Then her attention deviated, returning to the art of her craft. “We’ve all done things to survive.”
Melita
