Deimos
suns for bones and constellations for eyes
Ever the listener, he paused momentarily at each interval to place the logs upon steps or along doorframes, where the citizens would grab them easily, readily accessible amidst chills and frosts. And while the mischief might’ve wound through him amidst many a scruple, he wouldn’t bludgeon away Evie’s insights either, storing them in a collective fold of his mind and memory. Bookish and intellectual seemed to be an opposing position from a certain sibling, and Deimos found himself content that not all Seawrights shared a singular trait. So he nodded, and then paid more attention to the notions of Sah and his teachings. “Good. Exactly what some of the young Abandoned need.” Out of the light of petulance and disregard for something out of their control, away from the spiral of Stormbreak notions, derision, or scorn – and it would be beneficial for the hunter too, to be able to explain the manifestation of incantations and enchantments for another generation.
Thinking the commentary was done, he turned his head slightly as they wound around a familiar bend in the road, and didn’t expect the inquiry. He reeled it over in his head multiple times, just in case, for his eyes widened in surprise (from the compliment, to the question), and the nature of it all might’ve given the slightest tint of color to his cheeks. A thousand other convictions drove their way through his mind: from days in Helovia where it was second-nature to snag at Kiada when Rexanna wasn’t capable, to all the others he’d taken under his wing, to brief wonderings, relationships fractured, to war and that cataclysm of not expecting to survive…
The Sword paused, swallowing down the layers. “Maybe,” with a roll of his shoulders, uncertain if it gave him discomfort to voice the considerations, that they’d broken apart well before, or that it simply never happened because of his faults, flaws, or something else altogether. Deimos stared straight ahead for a moment, before flicking his piercing eyes back upon her. “I think I tended to assume it was not in the cards for me.” The why went unsaid – Amalia leaving, him needing to heal himself, battles upon battles, crusades and campaigns, fledgling relationships suddenly granted other responsibilities with titles and leadership. “But I enjoyed raising Kiada.” Until he died, she died, and all the other factions in between. Navigating past conversations, and where this all might’ve been drifting, his brow arched. “I recall you wanted some?”
