[SE] make sense of the past

Deimos had much to be grateful for – something known with every breath taken. He took naught for granted, not after years upon years of devastation, ruin, and melancholy – and the way he’d carved niches away from all the terror, trials, and tribulations. And while he could imagine they were never far from the trepidations again, the Sword also didn’t want to roam in the ‘what ifs’ and potential of impending damnation; repose wasn’t for waiting on the edges and fringes.

So his appreciation for the citizens of his region went outward and extended once more. Though they were used to his quiet aspects, and the platitude for amusement in devilry and antics, he couldn’t recall a time where he’d simply set up an area for them to gather and eat and be merry, save for bigger events. So the midafternoon found him, and Erebos seated at a table, set before a makeshift grill, other kiosks unfurled nearby, cooking multitudes for those who wanted them. The aroma of baked goods and meat permeated, wafted, contorted down the routes and streets, and while his toddler munched (already content with a piece of jerky, legs swinging back and forth), the Warden took orders, offered laughs, then plates full of burgers.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Theea

and that was how i learned to live
when you can run but you can't hide

I don’t come to Halo for sword lessons or to loiter around my best friend today. I come because I can feel the many lines from then to now—and there’s a man at the end of one who keeps nudging me forward when tell him I can't quite figure out where my feet belong.

The cold bites as I cross the square, breath going pale. Smoke rises in a steady ribbon and the smell of burgers punches through the frost—grease and spice and something warm enough to make my stomach make a very undignified sound. Apparently, legends like cookouts. I smile into my scarf.

Kiosks crowd around the makeshift grill, and I spot him at the hub of it: the Warden, sleeves pushed, easy-laughing between orders while Erebos sits with swinging legs and a strip of jerky that looks half his size. I tuck the strap of my bag tighter against my side, wait for that small seam in the moment…and then I step in.

"Deimos!"

It comes out bright with a matching smile. I slide the bag off my shoulder and hold it out rather than explain myself too soon. "I was looking for you at the guildhall and I was told to find you here.". I tip my chin toward Erebos and give him a wave, crinkling my nose in hello.

If he opens it here, he’ll find the stuffed little dragon first—white and pale yellow, the horns a touch crooked, wings a little lopsided. It’s not perfect, but it’s soft. After making the blanket for Maea, I got adventurous. Beneath that there’s a smaller bundle, and inside that a charm on a loop: a tiny golden sun with a couple of seashells I pocketed on a walk and the smallest hagstone I’ve ever found, no bigger than my thumb. It looks like something my mom or my nonna would hang from a doorway.

I rock back on my heels, suddenly aware of the heat coming off the grill and the way my fingers have gone prickly with thawing. "I know you don’t need a stuffed dragon, but—" I glance at Erebos, deadpan for half a beat. "—consider it competition." The corner of my mouth ticks up. "And the charm’s for a weapon! Or maybe a doorway."

I glance around sheepishly. "Need help with anything?"

how to feel trapped in a tunnel
but come out the other side

Passing over another burger from those waiting in line, the smoke on the grill rose and he fanned it away with a quick brush of his air magic, revealing, slightly below, Theea contained underneath the brim of aromas and fumes. His head tilted as she rushed forward, half-snorting already as he plunged another portion of meat onto the surface, listening to the hiss. “Theea,” came along the rumbling greeting. “Hungry?”

Erebos waved and giggled, granting his enthusiastic “Hi!” from around portions of meat still jutting from his mouth. The Sword only heard her words thereafter, brows furrowing slightly, not realizing she’d been looking for him – but that seemed to be a common thread when entering Halo.

The expectation of an offering, bag being handed over to him, was clearly a surprise by the look on his face. His features went from inscrutable to confusion, trying to riddle his way through the reasoning – accustomed to receiving presents from his family (especially this season), but otherwise – “Thank you.” Placing the spatula on a nearby surface for a moment, he smiled and broke away from the uncertainty and hesitancy for prying, curious notes – spying a stuffed dragon, a charm – “It is much appreciated, but what is all this for?” As for the competition, he couldn’t help but laugh, unsure if it was to plague and tease Erebos.

As for the assistance, he jutted his jawline towards the grill and the baked goods nearby. “Only if you want to help cook.”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul