remember that you can't save everyone
remember that you have to try
There would always be some aspect of the mountains and lives, time, spent in its shelter, its seclusion, its serenity, impossible to shake. For now, it was the aspect of Machiavellian tendencies, to plot, to scheme, to deceive, to ponder, to wonder, instead of taking everything at face or surface value. How deep they could go. How much they could swindle. How rebellion might stir, even in the warping quandaries of a present peace. But Rexanna was Queen now, and he was no king again, serving in the best way he could, with his targets, swords, and aptitude for violence. He shrugged at the notion of asking the Voice. “Let me know,” following, a general reticence thereafter; if not, they could unfold further into other strategies and machinations. Then there was the sun to deal with, his gaze maneuvering over her hood, things those amidst the other races never had to dwell upon. For them the heat was a certain irritation and nuisance, and for Ascended, nearly a death sentence in the rays. Was it worth the sacrifice? He might never quite understand, but comprehended why she’d done it. How she’d escaped. How she’d thwarted. How she’d lived as she always had, one step ahead of adversaries and enemies. “How does that come about?” Notes of curiosity and intrigue again, all to grasp the speculations and information. His stare drew away from her, considering a few more of the propped targets, shifting some of the stuffed contents that had been pummeled askew earlier, hands creating a few more beside their brethren.
out for vengeance
DEIMOS
