Evie
A warm glow rises between the arches of her ribs as handwaved reasonings give way to something more tender. Perhaps it’s because she’s a Natural, and holds more reverence for the shapes Attuned take being reflections of their very soul, but Deimos waiting so that his own discovery of his new form would coincide with Evie witnessing it? It feels like liquid gold in her veins. “Thank you,” she whispers through a smile that is so tender it hurts, instead of a beaming grin.
It’s a warmth doomed to die a swift death, however. As it freezes in her veins her entire body seems to follow suit, stuttering to a horrified pause as her eyes seek his in some desperate bid to find he is merely pulling a cruel joke on her. But he never would, no matter how she prays for it to be the answer, and instead Evie is forced to confront the news that Deimos will be battling for their side of this war in a place more deadly than Evie can even conceptualize. “No,” she objects weakly, voice tremulous. She is horrified to find her eyes burning traitorously, like a young girl’s. “No, you - but why? Why do they need you?” Why you? Again, the childish urges; to deem it unfair, to beg for an alternative, to refuse him the choice to obey. All bitten back by the strength of a lifetime of unfairly losing too many people already. Her lips tremble, but she has the fortitude - somehow, someway - to maintain the rest of her composure. Not for herself, but for him, so that he might not feel guilt for the wave of grief that seems to drown her though they stand inexorably on dry earth. “That’s what they have their demigods for, that’s what all their planning was for right? So why-?” Horrifyingly, her voice cracks, and she subsided into shameful silence, unwilling to continue trying lest she lose what little composure she has in her grasp. Please, just not him, she begs in the silence where nobody can judge her, knowing it’s a prayer that will never be heard; the Gods have never deemed to listen to her tearful pleading before. Why would they now?
It’s a warmth doomed to die a swift death, however. As it freezes in her veins her entire body seems to follow suit, stuttering to a horrified pause as her eyes seek his in some desperate bid to find he is merely pulling a cruel joke on her. But he never would, no matter how she prays for it to be the answer, and instead Evie is forced to confront the news that Deimos will be battling for their side of this war in a place more deadly than Evie can even conceptualize. “No,” she objects weakly, voice tremulous. She is horrified to find her eyes burning traitorously, like a young girl’s. “No, you - but why? Why do they need you?” Why you? Again, the childish urges; to deem it unfair, to beg for an alternative, to refuse him the choice to obey. All bitten back by the strength of a lifetime of unfairly losing too many people already. Her lips tremble, but she has the fortitude - somehow, someway - to maintain the rest of her composure. Not for herself, but for him, so that he might not feel guilt for the wave of grief that seems to drown her though they stand inexorably on dry earth. “That’s what they have their demigods for, that’s what all their planning was for right? So why-?” Horrifyingly, her voice cracks, and she subsided into shameful silence, unwilling to continue trying lest she lose what little composure she has in her grasp. Please, just not him, she begs in the silence where nobody can judge her, knowing it’s a prayer that will never be heard; the Gods have never deemed to listen to her tearful pleading before. Why would they now?
a golden cage, for all its worth and beauty
is still just a cage
is still just a cage
