Then a pillar of fire erupts. Somehow more violent and holy than Sofiya in the morning's light, eyes burning from amber to gold, warmth pouring from her to the soft linen sheets. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There has always been something godly about Anzhelina. About her steadfastness to her duty, her loyalty to the priestesses, her love that cherishes the air around her like steaming pine tea. Sofiya adores her. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It appears the world is ending, after Anzhelina and Sofiya have allowed themselves to love each other freely. Maybe the burning of Bog-Medved Forest is their fault, but a kind god would not begrudge their love anyway.