Amalia
only lonely hid the morning from the stars
✩
The comforting heat of Jigano at her shoulder bolsters the bashful girl, and for a moment Amalia's body drifts toward him, the slightest brush of her hand on his. Silence, for a moment: nothing but the breath of four lungs, the beat of four hearts. And then, starlight. It gathers before them like a halo of light, illuminating the reverence on Amalia's face. Laughter, warmth, like a familiar friend. She knows what this means, and it swells in her heart. "Safrin." A smile blooms across her lips; she looks to her companions, eyes bright with wonder, before taking the first step beneath the ground.
The last time she was here there was terror: today, there is nothing but nervous delight. Awash in the glow of heaven on earth, the cavern no longer feels oppressive, but fascinating, wondrous, a brave new world for them to explore. Her companions are friends instead of strangers, their purpose determined instead of unknown. Still, her heart beats nervously in her chest as she follows the starlight, the crimson antler adding to the ethereal quality of light: she cannot completely shed her insecurity, the constant misgiving that lives in her bones.
Eventually, a crossroads, and Amalia stops as the flock of stars splits into two separate paths. This feels eerily familiar, and the girl is unsettled by the similarity to last time. Uncertain, she glances between the two tunnels: the left, well lit and lively; the right, dark but with one lone star. Something about that solitary point of light strikes a chord in her. Perhaps it is her own innate loneliness; perhaps part of her is bolder than she knows. There is a clear choice, for the girl.
Turning to her companions, Amalia squares her shoulders and tries to appear confident, secure. "We should look down both. Safrin would not offer two choices without reason," she states, trying to mask the uncertainty in her voice. "I will follow this path," Gesturing toward the single star. She does not make any requests for companionship, though her eyes flicker toward Jigano, a wish within her heart.
The last time she was here there was terror: today, there is nothing but nervous delight. Awash in the glow of heaven on earth, the cavern no longer feels oppressive, but fascinating, wondrous, a brave new world for them to explore. Her companions are friends instead of strangers, their purpose determined instead of unknown. Still, her heart beats nervously in her chest as she follows the starlight, the crimson antler adding to the ethereal quality of light: she cannot completely shed her insecurity, the constant misgiving that lives in her bones.
Eventually, a crossroads, and Amalia stops as the flock of stars splits into two separate paths. This feels eerily familiar, and the girl is unsettled by the similarity to last time. Uncertain, she glances between the two tunnels: the left, well lit and lively; the right, dark but with one lone star. Something about that solitary point of light strikes a chord in her. Perhaps it is her own innate loneliness; perhaps part of her is bolder than she knows. There is a clear choice, for the girl.
Turning to her companions, Amalia squares her shoulders and tries to appear confident, secure. "We should look down both. Safrin would not offer two choices without reason," she states, trying to mask the uncertainty in her voice. "I will follow this path," Gesturing toward the single star. She does not make any requests for companionship, though her eyes flicker toward Jigano, a wish within her heart.
