Hang hallowed halos

Deimos Failure again, absolute silence and nothing else; same as all the other times before. He wasn’t surprised or disheartened, more accepting, familiar with this routine. He asked and they didn’t respond, he offered and they didn’t take. This was why he had little to no interaction with any of them: because he had naught they wanted, and in the end, the reliance on himself merely increased tenfold. A heavy sigh flickered through his chest, and his eyes ghosted over the wares he’d presented on the shelf – leaving them there to dissipate or disappear into the ether. He turned to leave, and there was Kiada again, like a shadow, like a spy, always seemingly there when his motions collapsed or a downfall seemed imminent – he lifted his head, a tower, a Colossus, not particularly bothered on this venture – hopes never too high, never quite reaching for the stars or the heavens. “I wanted to get more information on the blight,” he shrugged, meandering past her and along the lantern lights, a rough explanation at best. “Or figure out how to get my hands on items that could suppress or absorb magic.” For Zariah, he wanted to add; but maybe the forest had eyes and ears, and his vexation, his ideas, his notions would be enough to scurry them off to see their Queen. There were a multitude of things coasting, hovering, shoving into their peripheral vision, facts and figures, trials and tribulations, and being able to concentrate on one or the other was difficult at best. The monolith arched a brow and turned his head over his shoulder, watching her. “Why are you here?” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime