remember that you can't save everyone
remember that you have to try
He listened, quiet, but more or less puzzled, perplexed, and confused as she continued. While visions weren’t something to scoff at, and he didn’t do so here, it was the notions thereafter – the crimson staff shifting into a sword, thus she should entangle herself within blades - that caused a level of irritation to form behind his eyes. Perhaps that was why she ducked her head, didn’t look at him during her explanation, permitting him to unfortunately draw his own culminations in a decidedly vexed manner. His stare didn’t leave her, tones adopting a neutral baseline, stifling the roots of indignation from barreling through his throat. “I see. So I am berated and judged for protecting my people, and you are allowed to do the same without repercussions. He wouldn’t judge her for yearning to defend, to shield, it was how they’d been carved into this earth, but he didn’t particularly care for being harshly reviled when she wished to turn around and nearly do the same. She’d marred, wounded, hurt, and scalded. “You cannot have it both ways, Amalia.” The hypocrisy and double-standard thickening through the air gnawed at his ribs, and he breathed deeply, attempting to avoid another fight and argument. He left it there, uncertain if she’d been willing to do the same, or if this was another line they’d have to cross over and over and over again.So he watched as she adhered to his movements, the wooden edges bluntly hitting the dummy square in the shoulder; a basic maneuver that was trained to most new recruits. But she didn’t care for it – as he should’ve expected – and he mulled over the situation. “I will train you in whatever capacity you wish, but I want to be very clear.” Because Amalia hadn’t faced that sort of world, where the violence spread through veins, where the rush of adrenaline pumped, where comrades fell nearby, where each breath could be the last - similar circumstances to be sure, but not the brutal barbarity of war. “In the midst of battle, even when you are parrying, defending, or incapacitating, something can go wrong.” She didn’t want to rip, tear, or brutalize, but sometimes it didn’t matter (hadn’t they experienced that, deep in the Fangs?). One could predict an enemy’s movements and motions only so far – eventually it was all down to muscle memory, and survival. The piercing slate of his gaze rendered solely on hers. “Do you still wish to continue?”
out for vengeance
DEIMOS
