DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Among them; intertwined and interspersed alongside galaxies and twilight, flickering beams of moons and the eternal abyss. The Reaper had been entombed in the walls of the mountains when he’d perished, within the summits and peaks, bones gathered, but his soul adrift, set over again – plucked likely from the reaches and ranges of hell, where he deserved to be. But there had been memories of it, no alteration of time, sent back to earth to try again, to relive and revive amongst patterns, routines, and rituals, until paths scattered, rivuleted and riveted out like streams and vessels. He listened, nodding in the dimmest of comprehension; likely unable to understand the full expansion and expression of being amidst another branch of worlds entirely – there were always other realms, always other kingdoms, always other grounds and palisades, but he hadn’t been in one from above, glancing down at everyone else – the heavens, Elysium. He likely wouldn’t ever be.His eyes flickered away from the walls, from the tapestries, from the starlit void with brushstrokes and back to the once-king and resurrected warrior (perhaps they should’ve talked more; about familiarities, similarities, the juxtapositions between the two). “Yes,” which allowed for the slightest of smiles, half a grin poised on the edges of his lips. “When I went to become Attuned.” Before then – barely anything beyond a noticing of his existence, when they’d concocted and created her shrine. And after, mere whispers.
Unite and spread the heart apart
