[Training] but not muted

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

Fire magic wasn’t a surprise; from everything he’d learned about Ancients since their arrival, it was a living, breathing part of them. Deimos held a particular penchant for the incantations as well, but with the latter individual’s propensity for it, he’d have to melt into other forms of invocations; never one to want to give an advantage to an opponent outright. “Sure. I need to work on combining some magic,” to nurture strength and diligence behind those notions too – because while the elements were mastered under his filaments, they could also be manifested and contorted in different measurements and assertions together.

Under beacons of lantern light and some other illuminated fixtures, but far away from kiosks and mercantile, he began to shrug off his bag, his coat, coil his hair back into a messy bun and out of the way. “When you are ready then,” came thereafter – always attuned to the machinations and enchantments under the surface of his skin, carried on his pulse.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I