and the only solution was to stand and fight
He permitted another smile, let it slip amidst the crags and cracks of stoicism. Though it faltered slightly as her stories changed into serious tones, and all the things he’d ever been apprehensive about when it came to growing his and Evie’s family rooted right there, unfurling into the open.
That Caido wasn’t safe. That they’d brought Erebos into a world that couldn’t ever find repose for more than a season or two. That sometimes, in the middle of the evenings, his residual nightmares would churn over to those who he sought to protect each and every day, haunting, looming, blood spilled – too ineffectual, too weak.
He flinched a little, hid it in the turn of his head, in the way his eyes flickered back down to the ground, in the sudden and nearly imperceptible clench of his jaw. “My wife is from the Grounds,” the Sword murmured, as if this was the sole reason, but there was more tucked into it. “And did not think we should let the rotten parts win.” For, had they done so in the Hollowed sanction, in those hundreds of years behind the barrier, there would’ve been nothing at all. He just didn’t like relying on hope. “But it was a difficult decision,” and Deimos shrugged his shoulders, as if to cast it away; already gone and done, wondering if her words were simply building a deeper wound than the one he’d already carved out for himself.
So that was why he strived, constantly, eternally, to ensure Halo, and his family, were safe. Theea’s final statement though caused a very long, deep, and slow breath, miring away the worst of it all surfacing against his throat. What if it’s not enough? hovered there, sullen and somber. “Thank you,” he rumbled instead, long strides sweeping and on the move again. “I am certainly going to try – but I think that goes for most of us.”
That Caido wasn’t safe. That they’d brought Erebos into a world that couldn’t ever find repose for more than a season or two. That sometimes, in the middle of the evenings, his residual nightmares would churn over to those who he sought to protect each and every day, haunting, looming, blood spilled – too ineffectual, too weak.
He flinched a little, hid it in the turn of his head, in the way his eyes flickered back down to the ground, in the sudden and nearly imperceptible clench of his jaw. “My wife is from the Grounds,” the Sword murmured, as if this was the sole reason, but there was more tucked into it. “And did not think we should let the rotten parts win.” For, had they done so in the Hollowed sanction, in those hundreds of years behind the barrier, there would’ve been nothing at all. He just didn’t like relying on hope. “But it was a difficult decision,” and Deimos shrugged his shoulders, as if to cast it away; already gone and done, wondering if her words were simply building a deeper wound than the one he’d already carved out for himself.
So that was why he strived, constantly, eternally, to ensure Halo, and his family, were safe. Theea’s final statement though caused a very long, deep, and slow breath, miring away the worst of it all surfacing against his throat. What if it’s not enough? hovered there, sullen and somber. “Thank you,” he rumbled instead, long strides sweeping and on the move again. “I am certainly going to try – but I think that goes for most of us.”
DEIMOS
