DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
The response made him snort, half-wondering if Evie’s penchant for impulse ran rampant through their son, or if it was just the impetuousness of youth. He had likely been the same in his childhood too, wild and eager to be much like the soldiers surrounding their region, desperately seeking out ways to improve, while being distracted by any manner of mischief he could behold. It was only later, after many years of traumatic events, that he’d been corded and carved into some hardened, steely fixture; and he wouldn’t want the same for Erebos. “Of course. Look how far you have come already.” Whether or not that was tied to trial and error, or the aspects of some carnival game scarcely mattered – the designations and journey might not be the same for everyone, but the simplicity was. “Especially if you are patient,” he wrinkled his nose, water incantations carefully poking holes into Erebos’ snowflakes, trying to see how long they would take to dissolve, if the lad wasn’t watching close enough. “I did not have these things all at once. It took time.”
There were only so many measures one could skip; where eventually they’d have to labor onwards, strive, try - and he might as well have imparted the thought of it here and now, where Erebos could begin to understand that sometimes life wasn’t built on instant fulfillment and thrills. The world didn’t appease simply because one wanted it to.
There were only so many measures one could skip; where eventually they’d have to labor onwards, strive, try - and he might as well have imparted the thought of it here and now, where Erebos could begin to understand that sometimes life wasn’t built on instant fulfillment and thrills. The world didn’t appease simply because one wanted it to.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
