DEIMOS
Deimos had glimpsed the Eye of Fire before; enticed and encouraged by its flames, in the midst of flight with another Attuned. Now, instead of meandering and winding his way through the maze, he committed to sanctions of wings and plumage again – the eagle extending the sienna hues and colorations over the wintry haze, following plumes and vestiges of smoke. Tracing after its filaments gave more breathtaking movements and motions, occasions for distractions, or for a mind to whirl through parameters and possibilities during the colder refrains. Permitted to his elements; alone on a crisp Deepfrost day, wound into the fibers of fire and ice, with no need for another baptism. He’d had enough in the depths and fathoms of battle, heartache, and loss; this one would only be for contemplation and action.He and Belial, a following, trailing peryton with a zeal for actions and screeches, eventually descended, curling and contorting over the framework of eternal conflagrations with little misgivings. Only when the beast landed did he truly shift back into human form, considering the inferno for a moment, offering a nod of respect, before finding a log close by. Sitting down, stretching out his long legs, he produced a piece of parchment from within his pockets, and charcoal to follow. So while his companion sniffed and inspected, and the other safely grazing outside the labyrinthine walls, Deimos began to meticulously sketch out details of his next creation.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
