I carried my own ashes to the mountains
There wasn’t any destination – just the restlessness coiled up within him, yearning to be unleashed in some manner. He saved the less than disastrous qualities for the leaves twirling and spinning, beginning to accumulate other nettles and brambles as they walked along; a apprehensive collection of things and movements. A few pulses of his mind, the portions not occupied by whatever calculations threatening to become a maelstrom, wove the length of wind in and amongst the eaves, so everything curled and contorted in haphazard wakes. Belial wandered alongside the strokes of power, amused where Deimos was not.
He didn’t have anything to say about complications – everything seemed to be that way. And even the next inquiry didn’t give him much in the way of hope; jaw clenching, feathering, under all the munitions lodged within the world. “The Voice gone and the Ascended freed from her. Able to live without her influence.” Scarcely below a growl and barely above a whisper, Sah would have to be listening well to even hear it at all. “Which we already know cannot be.” And so those notions drifted to Kiada, and he gave forth a long, bitter, slow sigh.
He didn’t have anything to say about complications – everything seemed to be that way. And even the next inquiry didn’t give him much in the way of hope; jaw clenching, feathering, under all the munitions lodged within the world. “The Voice gone and the Ascended freed from her. Able to live without her influence.” Scarcely below a growl and barely above a whisper, Sah would have to be listening well to even hear it at all. “Which we already know cannot be.” And so those notions drifted to Kiada, and he gave forth a long, bitter, slow sigh.
DEIMOS
