DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Watching, waiting, he was an otherwise useless enterprise and entity within this world. He could feel himself drowning on the edges, eyes urging, wanting, to peel away from the here and now and focus on the walls, the rooms, the things she’d left behind – everything empty, distorted, incapable of escaping the brimming, the brewing, of grief clenching over his jaw.
But then Auni drank, and a breath slowly eased from everything else carving against his bones, fibers, muscle, and tissue, some segment of relief that the luxere, at least, wasn’t amongst the lost and gone. He didn’t expect Chulane’s inquiry to follow, and he tilted his head, furrowing his brow. “What does he say?” How did it feel? Like echoes and reverberations? Like another being immersed within one’s soul?
He hadn’t heard of the possibility before – those in Helovia, who’d perished before their companions, had found the marked and shared bonds meant death for the other as well. “I have not seen it. But that does not mean it cannot happen.” Perhaps the closeness, the entanglements, from Kiada to Chulane, had ordained and benefitted more than just themselves. Another tether, another line, another anchor, left behind by the Harpy.
But then Auni drank, and a breath slowly eased from everything else carving against his bones, fibers, muscle, and tissue, some segment of relief that the luxere, at least, wasn’t amongst the lost and gone. He didn’t expect Chulane’s inquiry to follow, and he tilted his head, furrowing his brow. “What does he say?” How did it feel? Like echoes and reverberations? Like another being immersed within one’s soul?
He hadn’t heard of the possibility before – those in Helovia, who’d perished before their companions, had found the marked and shared bonds meant death for the other as well. “I have not seen it. But that does not mean it cannot happen.” Perhaps the closeness, the entanglements, from Kiada to Chulane, had ordained and benefitted more than just themselves. Another tether, another line, another anchor, left behind by the Harpy.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
