death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Hope wouldn’t have done much good, given the drawn-out silence, the furtive wakes and walls now sculpted over the Sword; some certain other words perhaps; not the transient designations of optimism.
Especially as he spotted the ivory dragon from the window – starting from the corner of his eye until he turned his head fully to watch – body tense and taut, rigid and unyielding, unbending, even as it cast off and away. His jaw feathered in a tight clench, memory and mind forced to revisit horrors of the past, and then potential omens for the impending future. He stared for much longer than necessary, until he was certain it was gone, and it was a miniscule speck against the outline of mountains and skies, not threatening the land he watched over.
He could hear Talyson’s response, but it felt adrift – circumventing his calculations and reticence back to the present, the phrase not helping the cause. The Warden had no choice in the matter, and rubbing the salt in the wounds didn’t cease any of the apprehension building over his spine again. “I am aware,” ground between his teeth. “That is what the weapons are for.” Everything they’d built and carved – from the cannon to the array and multitudes lined along the Citadel, or the watchtower.
As for posts, he could only direct things so far with no vantage point other than war. “We do not know how we will be attacked. I could tell where you to go, and it would not mean anything.” Especially when he wouldn’t be there to direct any other ventures. “So where you will be most comfortable.”
Especially as he spotted the ivory dragon from the window – starting from the corner of his eye until he turned his head fully to watch – body tense and taut, rigid and unyielding, unbending, even as it cast off and away. His jaw feathered in a tight clench, memory and mind forced to revisit horrors of the past, and then potential omens for the impending future. He stared for much longer than necessary, until he was certain it was gone, and it was a miniscule speck against the outline of mountains and skies, not threatening the land he watched over.
He could hear Talyson’s response, but it felt adrift – circumventing his calculations and reticence back to the present, the phrase not helping the cause. The Warden had no choice in the matter, and rubbing the salt in the wounds didn’t cease any of the apprehension building over his spine again. “I am aware,” ground between his teeth. “That is what the weapons are for.” Everything they’d built and carved – from the cannon to the array and multitudes lined along the Citadel, or the watchtower.
As for posts, he could only direct things so far with no vantage point other than war. “We do not know how we will be attacked. I could tell where you to go, and it would not mean anything.” Especially when he wouldn’t be there to direct any other ventures. “So where you will be most comfortable.”
DEIMOS
