to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Safrin had certainly garnished some success in gaining followers, if Sunjata intended to apply himself in the same stead as Ronin and Amalia. “Good luck,” she laughed, unaware, uncertain, of how deep the bonds embedded, or what the tasks required. Her familiarity had been going to Ludo for guidance, support, or establishing ideas, some ever-ready notion within the back of her mind for a new weapon, a new means to an end. She watched the birds rotate, placing more dried wood within the crackling fire. Fangorn nestled himself by her legs, and she reached down to scratch him when Sunjata prospered his inquiry. Magic had been an absolute certainty – the lightning scar embedded and raised along her back was a sure sign of its infamy and tactics, waged upon her by a long-dead Ampere, risen from watery tombs and graves. “Yes,” she swallowed, a shrug to her shoulders, the grin gone somewhat, though she couldn’t quite fathom why. “I just didn’t have any.”
to be the sun
MELITA
