[PQ] underground, the stars are legend

Over rock and through tunnels they run, faster and faster, too fast, perhaps, but the magical speed does nothing to quell Amalia's excitement: indeed, it fuels it further, and as they run in pursuit of the star the ardent girl laughs. It is only when Jigano cries out that she turns away from the pulsing star to look at her companion. Perhaps it is this backward glance; perhaps she was doomed from the start. Whatever the reason, Amalia does not see the pit until it is too late. In one moment she is flying; in the next, she falls, the world beneath her giving out as gravity takes its hold. Only through a miracle is she able to keep from dropping into the pit, her left hand reaching out to grasp, vice-like, at an outcropping of rock. Amalia coughs, dust settling around her nose, but does not dare to move too far. Her staff is still in her hand: another miracle, though as it dangles it feels heavy, and she can feel her hand begin to slip. "Mort!" Amalia curses instinctively, alto voice muffled by the dirt pressed against her face. Her heartbeat feels frantic, erratic, and fear bites like needles against her skin. What was she thinking? She is going to die, again, for her arrogance, her foolishness, her reckless abandon and willful ardor. The memory of last time flashes before her eyes: darkness, and terror, and flashes of red. Her black eyes close against the growing dread. She is slipping- -And then, the last miracle: there are hands around hers, and a familiar voice, and instead of being alone in the darkness she is here with Jigano, alive. A deep shuddering breath: "O-okay." Her right arm comes up swinging the staff, trying to get it over the lip of the stone, while her left clings Jigano's fingers. When she is confident the staff is successfully secured Amalia grabs onto the lip of the pit, her feet scrambling for purchase on stone. There, an outcropping- and she scrambles up, hoisting herself with the help of Jigano to collapse face up upon the solid ground, her breath coming heavy and fast. Her is only mildly injured, the right side of her face bleeding and badly bruised, but at the moment she does not notice this. She closes her eyes and trembles, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She does not want to let go of his hand, that anchor of warmth which holds her to the world, but if he pulls it away she will release it from her own. a m a l i a You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there