[SE] For all of us

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Deimos watched the trail of clouds or the telltale spread of his peryton’s wings, waiting for Marcus to process the notions, of what had taken them years, or those days spent within such confines, to know and understand. “Not until you experience it for yourself, I think, would anyone. We could all say we would keep the doors shut,” and then he shrugged, already knowing the outcome. “But we had difficulty to adhering to it. The first time I opened them was to help Remi retrieve a friend’s body.” Some way to honor those who had fallen, to snag them from the clutches of monsters. “Another time because other friends had tried to stop the creatures, and it had gone probably as you can imagine.” Poorly; wrung out souls with limbs missing and a world view newly tilted because vicious, vehement beasts outside those walls never cared about those within. How they’d spent hours tending to wounds that never should’ve happened. Years upon years of harsh, grinding clarity of instances and moments shattering lives and pieces; and why even some time after, the mere helm and name of LongNight kept his spine straightened and restlessness countered. Taking another long, deep breath, he began to walk, the feeling, the need, to pace and maneuver riddling along his limbs, following the outline Belial made in the air below, boots going through ash. “I am glad it is no longer that way.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace