and the only solution was to stand and fight
Pyres were symbolic gestures – a life received back into the fold of flames, and earth, the soul already long gone to Mort and his halls. Still, it never felt any easier to watch a compatriot and friend be surrendered over to them. He liked to think he would’ve fought for her – just as he’d done for so many before – reaching outwards and trying to pull them away from the claws and death, with power, with might. But just as so many had succumbed no matter what’d he done, so too had Rhiannon, and it'd be another guilty entry into the long list of names scribed in his mind. He bowed his head and left the words behind his teeth, a long breath to flicker with the fire, solemn, quiet, nearly silenced and still save for the warm puffs of air gathered from the cold. He thought of lanterns in the following season, of young soldiers venturing out to commit to their duties, and just how often they wandered into their death – merely protecting their region, serving their role.
Ceasing before the self-loathing began again, his gaze traced after those receding back into the pathways and stone. The guilt gnawed though, and he pushed forward, seeking Nina out again to wage his own tempest against the restlessness. “Do you need any help?”
Ceasing before the self-loathing began again, his gaze traced after those receding back into the pathways and stone. The guilt gnawed though, and he pushed forward, seeking Nina out again to wage his own tempest against the restlessness. “Do you need any help?”
DEIMOS
