Emily Axford

Ame is a child when she first wonders through Grandmother Wren’s cottage. She wakes to the stomps of a fierce rooster, the smell of juk, the chorus of small sounds that builds the cottage.

Ame is a child when she falls in love with magic, the scent of it, the purity and the heart that lives at the core of it. Magic, the ability to connect with the earth, to provide for the animals and the trees, for the Spirits and honour their works. To help humans with sickness and mending.

The humanity in magic, the spinning of life to vow service to all that breathes on Umora.

Yet Ame is still a child as other children scowl at her, throw piercing gazes and words, “you’re a witch!” and see nothing but body, a little girl disconnected from the flesh of their own, a witch, nothing but a witch, an orphan, a stranger, a child. All but human.

But Ame had never thought herself anything other than human.

Ame, a child that never was, never could be, and forever will be.

She is a child when she is given to Grandmother Wren. Unwanted, strange child. She is a child when she is othered by the other children. Witch and apprentice, and still a child.

Ame never experiences childhood. She knows the wonders of magic and medicine, of healing and earth. But she never experiences the wonders of friendship, of connections in childhood. Ame never experiences the wonders of playing make belief, the warm hug after a heated argument, the small secrets shared in childhood.

But Ame is a child when finds more to her little family. A wizard, a witch and a wild one. Each child with a deep and profound sadness etched into the core of their beings and yet all too young to form the words to it.

Ame is still a child when she waves goodbye to her best and most True Friend. Tears wet her cheeks and the summer falls to her feet in a sweet breeze and a distant memory unforgotten. Ame is a child when she whispers her final goodnight to her brother, her True Friend, without and fully knowing so. She wakes up to the smell of moss and nothing but moss. She finds the cottage all too quiet.

Ame gains more than childhood during one summer and looses more than it when it is over. She finds fellowship and family in two True Friends. A secret and bond in childhood that cannot be simply broken. A thread that stretches across over water and mountains that no matter how far they are, they know they have a piece of themselves, of a simpler yet complicated summer in childhood somewhere across the lands. A small shard of childhood, of their true humanities stuck in memory of the scent of honey and magic and fur, a time long ago.

It’s me!!

Is it a sign that I'm currently obsessed with top gun and another show I'm watching just made a top gun reference.... I think God wants the brainrot to continue

Not me absolutely bawling my eyes out at 3am after a very unproductive day listening to the first 10 minutes of Worlds Beyond Number, The Wizard preview

Podcasts are my least favourite form of content cause purely auditory concentration is my weakest but this is so so good for me and my mental health

Ayda Aguefort 🐦‍🔥

worlds beyond number is sooo good!

Listening to WWW and every episode is just:

5 minutes in *jaw drop*, 20 minutes later *jaw drop*, 2 seconds later *hands over mouth screaming*, 30 minutes later *jaw drop*, last 5 minutes *sobbing*

Surely it has been talked about how Penelope Everpetal and Aelwyn Abernant were definitely, 1000% a thing before she was taken to jail+kidnapped to Fallinel and Penelope died

AAAA THIS PERSON GETS IT

so Aelwyn was totally in love with Penelope right?

now just imagine. you see the girl you are in love with after getting arrested, mere days before you will be tortured for months on end (not knowing that it isn't even her) and you maybe think it will all be ok and it might work out because she hasn't been caught.

now you get kidnapped and lose a full year of your memory. to your knowledge, it's been a few days since you were arrested. you find out that was a lie.

you finally return home after being tortured for a year, and losing both your parents, and find out the girl you loved is dead. you never got to say goodbye and the last time you saw her was a lie.

and that she would rather die than see you again.

Is there any greater blasphemy than that of an angel who fell in love with a demon?

He came to the earth at the dawn of its creation, his directive to enact God's will. The Archangels stressed upon him that, in so doing, it was imperative that he oppose The Enemy. They told him what he would face: one of the Fallen, a demon.

He thought he understood the nature of this creature of darkness.

But he was wrong.

Where there ought to have been ugliness, he found only beauty.

Where he expected cruelty, he found kindness.

Heaven had prepared him to thwart the wiles of a heart of evil, yet he found one that harbored goodness, gentleness.

A demon who protected the weak, the innocent.

A demon who mourned, who grieved.

How could Heaven have been so utterly mistaken? For he was assured that the demon had the devil in him.

But in this creature's soul, he can see God.

Beautiful. Kind. Gentle. Good.

To say nothing of his cleverness, his wit, his charm, his appeal.

The demon intrigues him. He subverts his every expectation. He is a fascination.

More than all that.

The demon makes him laugh.

Makes him feel.

Listens to him. Challenges him.

Saves him.

And as the centuries pass, he finds that in the demon's presence, an emptiness he didn't know he had is filled; as though the broken edges of their spirits fit together; as though they were made for one another.

He knows the Host of Heaven whisper.

They call it blasphemy. Abomination.

They wonder in horror:

How could an angel fall in love with a demon?

The truth is...

How could he have done anything else.

The Ravening War 1.05