and the only solution was to stand and fight
Alternative experiences, especially of the past and present were intriguing, enough to make him wonder and ponder, muse and reflect. While Deimos had come from worlds that had been embedded and infused with magic, so much so that it was out of the ordinary if someone was not riddled with incantations, arriving in Caido had been a lesson in bewilderment and hatred. Though he hadn’t ever thought to change who he was, or be ashamed of what he contained, the Sword had still assimilated into the fold of faith and progress; persistent and subversive all in the same breath. No one, not even the gods, was going to make him believe he was worthless and despicable, because of what was contained within his veins. Other actions and events dictated that. “As an Outlander, I understand,” with a sharp wrinkle to his nose again.
Curiosity persisted though, the inquisition carrying through. “What were those days like?” Something like his homeland, maybe, where the entanglement of skills and enchantments were fine, but the world was still restless? Isilme and Helovia alike had craved action, vehemence, and violence; whereas Caido sometimes had the lulls, the restful pieces nestled in between. But before? Some of the knowledge had likely been lost to time, but not to those who'd lived it.
Flattening away, maintaining a rhythm of strength and mettle, the semblances of knowledge coming together continued to sort quietly through his mind. Dygra’s acceptance of magic in her beings was an intriguing juxtaposition from the rest of the Old Gods; and though the question lay immersed behind his teeth, he didn’t give voice to it. “Nothing wrong with growth,” he encouraged with a laugh. “Similar to us, perhaps,” in that they were always finding new pieces brimming under the surface, over time and perseverance.
Curiosity persisted though, the inquisition carrying through. “What were those days like?” Something like his homeland, maybe, where the entanglement of skills and enchantments were fine, but the world was still restless? Isilme and Helovia alike had craved action, vehemence, and violence; whereas Caido sometimes had the lulls, the restful pieces nestled in between. But before? Some of the knowledge had likely been lost to time, but not to those who'd lived it.
Flattening away, maintaining a rhythm of strength and mettle, the semblances of knowledge coming together continued to sort quietly through his mind. Dygra’s acceptance of magic in her beings was an intriguing juxtaposition from the rest of the Old Gods; and though the question lay immersed behind his teeth, he didn’t give voice to it. “Nothing wrong with growth,” he encouraged with a laugh. “Similar to us, perhaps,” in that they were always finding new pieces brimming under the surface, over time and perseverance.
DEIMOS
