[se] lone fragments

Deimos The actual thought of rest, vacations, and breaks made his shoulders straighten and trepidation increase, so the General of Halo wandered into wayward branches and brambles of a different sort. Memories, never distant, had long since framed the Miana Pool before him – a time, a place, where they’d gathered together in effort to salvage some proportion for the L’ma; wherever it rested now. His eyes peered over the edge as he sat along the brim, legs dangling into the crystal clear water – but all he caught were the inklings and hues of brightly colored stones, caught in the rippling patches of sunlight. Belial maneuvered to the brim too, and the Sword snorted, arching a brow to indicate some semblance of a warning. Zuriel, far more accustomed to these wayfaring adventures, kept her distance, pulling at a few roots and shrubs, occupying her time with grazing. Deimos pondered over the rocks, the gems, the well-wishes of another year in Caido. Turning over his palm, instead of searching for something nearby, his earthen wares and creation segments conjured a sharp, crimson stone in the center of his hand. What it was made to represent, he couldn’t quite fathom – and before he could think much more of it, he took a deep breath, wondering where to apply faith. In a rock? In a pool? In something else altogether? He flicked the formation, and watched as it lifted into the air, and fell with a gentle splash. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime