DEIMOS
Success.Just days ago, and what felt like eons, he’d been an apprehensive mess, a coiled cluster of nerves, consternation, and the potential for ruin – only because he and so many of them had already lived it, simmered and scathed against in along the bottom of the Spire, rooted into the basement’s columns and stones. Their goal had been singular, but potentially challenging, a barbaric form of vitriol and venom sent into the air –
And they’d conquered them all.
It hadn’t been smooth or simple, but it had been courageous and potent, a powerful prowess overflowing from every single one of them, an explosion of their own vehemence, sequestered and bestial, barbaric and savage, nefarious and undermining, a glorious sight to behold when everything settled, came to rights, and their triumph had become clear.
It was odd to walk away from such a quest without a demonstrative set of regret or rancor; bitterness twisted or consigned to his chest – but there was naught now. Instead, his arms were laden with alcohol, a proud step to his stride, winding his way back to the bakery along the settlement. Like a strange sort of tradition, they’d come back together, away from the calamity, away from the barbarity, to enjoy and revel in their victory (however little, however small, however miniscule). Amidst fallen stars, alchemists, wolves, shields, and swords – brandished killers of poisonous vectors – a celebration of their conquests.
The warrior knocked, then allowed himself in, sliding across the aperture, before finding the counter and placing the bottles down, a chime, a clink to their glassy exterior, that didn’t sound like horror or haunting poignancy. It echoed like reverberations of combined capabilities and a change in the air.
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in
