DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
How many times had he ever felt safe? That had aways been his occupation and role – to ensure others were shielded, protected, and guarded in his threshold. To endure the pain, torment, and torture so another didn’t; simplistic, perhaps, but it’d been driven into his mind in youth and never left his machinations – no matter the lifetime, the bridges of memories, or moments spun upon opposing earths. Onslaughts were for him, and repose for the rest. Trust was earned later, when he was certain and sure, when the walls could come down, little by little by little, until they weren’t so corrosive or shackled, tethered or beholden.
Something in his heart curled and contorted. Perhaps the knowledge that Evie’s sentiments were whole and certain, that faith and credence were on both sides, that he wasn’t ever alone permitted that long, upheld breath to go – filtering out of his lungs with the elegance and ease of her murmur.
He took the always and tucked it against his blackened soul; let it see and savor the light for a few moments more. A tangible relief in the breadth of his shoulders, in the wake of what had always felt like an endless abyss. “All right,” he agreed, with a slight grimace, but not before gathering their plates, and pressing his mouth to her temple as he passed by. “Love you,” came on deep rumbles, muffled against skin, and then he was down the hall again – grin on his face.
The inevitable lurked behind doors and studies though, and he wasn’t surprised to find the peryton rising form his bed the moment the Sword opened the frame. Wagging his small deer like tail, all Deimos could do was shake his head, awaiting either a tirade, tantrum, or something melded in between. The carnivorous deer stretched and yawned, and the hybrid pondered how best to frame upcoming notions. “Come on. Time for a surprise.” With a tapping of his cloven hooves, Belial sprang into action, rampaging down the passageway.
Something in his heart curled and contorted. Perhaps the knowledge that Evie’s sentiments were whole and certain, that faith and credence were on both sides, that he wasn’t ever alone permitted that long, upheld breath to go – filtering out of his lungs with the elegance and ease of her murmur.
He took the always and tucked it against his blackened soul; let it see and savor the light for a few moments more. A tangible relief in the breadth of his shoulders, in the wake of what had always felt like an endless abyss. “All right,” he agreed, with a slight grimace, but not before gathering their plates, and pressing his mouth to her temple as he passed by. “Love you,” came on deep rumbles, muffled against skin, and then he was down the hall again – grin on his face.
The inevitable lurked behind doors and studies though, and he wasn’t surprised to find the peryton rising form his bed the moment the Sword opened the frame. Wagging his small deer like tail, all Deimos could do was shake his head, awaiting either a tirade, tantrum, or something melded in between. The carnivorous deer stretched and yawned, and the hybrid pondered how best to frame upcoming notions. “Come on. Time for a surprise.” With a tapping of his cloven hooves, Belial sprang into action, rampaging down the passageway.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
