daughter of the sun; you belong only to yourself
Support in goddess agendas, in stalwart constellations and cosmos, brought the little spark forward. She bobbed and weaved along the sands, the dunes, the high-rise of lighthouses and brandished propositions – the last evening she’d spent beneath Safrin’s stars had been wondrous, beneficent, and awe-inspiring, and there was no way she was missing out on this opportunity again. She’d left the rocks from their last meeting at home, in pockets, ivory-adorned and beautiful, but thought the candle would be a nice, lingering touch anyway, following after the footsteps of Remi, of Ronin, and anyone else gathered beneath the wake. The youth held no indication of any slight towards the Alchemist and his request, and only hummed beneath her breath, the flames lighting her features as she reverently closed her eyes, and asked for the evening to bid them fondly.
Melita
