and the only solution was to stand and fight
Deimos didn’t know what to expect from Noah. The last time he’d seen him had been seasons before; and even then, they’d been on barely speaking terms. Working for the sake of Halo, and nothing much more. Their close ties and friendship had been brutally assailed, and the Sword, bothered by the dramatics, theatrics, and easily negated issues with the Grounds, wasn’t certain what else to do but wait it out. Maybe the Forsaken would realize the mistakes in his own time. Maybe he wouldn’t, and they’d be left asunder.
Glancing up from the pile of paperwork, his brows furrowed, mind striving to decipher where all of this was going – watching as Noah sat, taking in the cool observations of roughened beards and exhaustion. Perhaps he’d been out hunting for some time – amidst the Greenwing with his family for the last few months. Rather than trying to work or predict it out further, he simply listened, nodding at the letter portions – but having received so many, it likely had been a side note.
Whatever his expectations had been, it wasn’t with white dragons, Noah being knocked out, and Cordelia taken. The series of dramatic events made his eyes widen, figuring something else would occur and unravel – the Attuned found, everyone back together –
But when it didn’t – weeks passed and lodge empty – the shock reeled through his system. Cordelia had always been capable. Perhaps sometimes a little overconfident, like during the war, but never to the point where she would’ve risked herself to such a degree. “I am sorry, I had - ,” no idea, really. He’d just figured they’d dispersed into the wilderness, as they did from time to time. That she was gone seemed like such a strange sentiment for his mind to bear, and after weeks of constant, ongoing news of failures and unravelings, his soul was numb. Gone back to the days of war when everything conspired around them at once, and all he could do was crawl inward, stare into the chaos as if it was a normal happenstance. “Did you find it?” Were they to have a funeral – so many days later?
Glancing up from the pile of paperwork, his brows furrowed, mind striving to decipher where all of this was going – watching as Noah sat, taking in the cool observations of roughened beards and exhaustion. Perhaps he’d been out hunting for some time – amidst the Greenwing with his family for the last few months. Rather than trying to work or predict it out further, he simply listened, nodding at the letter portions – but having received so many, it likely had been a side note.
Whatever his expectations had been, it wasn’t with white dragons, Noah being knocked out, and Cordelia taken. The series of dramatic events made his eyes widen, figuring something else would occur and unravel – the Attuned found, everyone back together –
But when it didn’t – weeks passed and lodge empty – the shock reeled through his system. Cordelia had always been capable. Perhaps sometimes a little overconfident, like during the war, but never to the point where she would’ve risked herself to such a degree. “I am sorry, I had - ,” no idea, really. He’d just figured they’d dispersed into the wilderness, as they did from time to time. That she was gone seemed like such a strange sentiment for his mind to bear, and after weeks of constant, ongoing news of failures and unravelings, his soul was numb. Gone back to the days of war when everything conspired around them at once, and all he could do was crawl inward, stare into the chaos as if it was a normal happenstance. “Did you find it?” Were they to have a funeral – so many days later?
DEIMOS
