The light falls across her body in colored shards: red, green, cobalt blue. The Daughter 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 auntie Dark asks, concern pulling her lips tight.
“Oh yes, very,” the Daughter of Light responds.
Darkness wraps her arms around the younger spirit and pulls her into a tight hug. The Daughter of Light squirms, trying to escape.
“Why do you do it?” the Dark Lady asks with a sigh.
Light lets out a soft, smiling laughter. “Oh, it’s just exquisite, the pain. It’s lovely. You should do it.”
The Dark Lady, who had held her daughter through more bawling and nightmares than this, shakes her head and only holds tighter.