DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
The meeting had gone just about how he’d expected: ruffled feathers and frustration, confusion amidst the upheaval. Emotions they’d already gone through to get to these points and ventures – just the rest of the world needed to hear them, experience them, and ascertain their own perspectives thereafter. So while it sunk into the snow, they had to continue, persist, into the necessities of the sovereignty. Not here for any original overhaul after Neron’s reign was cut, the Sword could only adhere to what Noah and Ru wanted for the Council Hall. He stood, stalwart and tall, stoic and presiding, while listening to the dictated tasks, eventually arching a brow as they opted and orchestrated. Then set about to work.
“I can fix the door,” he eventually relented; as he’d been the one to mar it in the first place. Long strides took him down the hall, familiar patterns, to where Morgan’s former office had been – and if any residual memories forged and inclined their way down through his spine, he ignored them. Instead of peering straight into the room, he only galvanized his way to the frame of the aperture itself, glancing over the holes where stone had been inlaid, warped panels where he’d shifted vines, rooted conjectures. There was an apology laden in there somewhere; for either an inanimate object or the person it once belonged to – but neither would hear.
So instead he hastened his Earthen machinations again, but to repair the damage he’d caused.
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Deimos uses his Mastered Earth magic to try and fix the door.
Unite and spread the heart apart
