The light falls across her body in colored shards: red, green, cobalt blue. The lady of Light is unmoving aside from the soft twisting of color with each note she calls. She breathes in plain air and sings out promises and stained glass and hope and a spray of blood. Her throat was ragged from the sharp edges of color, and still she sang.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” her sister Darkness asks.
“Oh yes, very,” the Light responds.
Darkness wraps her arms around her sister and pulls her into a tight hug. The Light squirms, trying to escape.
“Why do you do it?” she asks.
Light lets out a soft, smiling sigh. “Oh, it’s just exquisite, the pain. It’s lovely. You should do it.”
The Dark, who had held her sister through more bawling and nightmares than this, shakes her head and only holds tighter.
Written to prompts for Writing at the Merge.