dominoes of indiscretions down

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The Spire fell, and with it, the rest of the coiled apprehensions descended along with it. It hadn’t mattered, in the end, who had howled at who, whether Naturals or Outlanders had regarded it too softly, too harshly, too avariciously, because it plunged down like an obsidian knife, and the barrier lifted. He hadn’t realized how restless he’d been, how purposeless, how meandering and wandering he’d become until the scar of the aperture cut across the grass and left them free. It was as if they’d all scratched it apart, aching to be liberated from the stretches of their dungeons and doldrums, set into more of the unknown, where the wild tempted, where the untamed reaches parted, where roots were left behind and the wind could cast them anywhere, anywhere they chose. The Reaper breathed, stepped forward, and didn’t hesitate this time. His footfalls were sure, were certain, were glimpsed with his more savage, ferocious motions, a behemoth, a Colossus, an emboldened patriot of curiosity and acrimony. The stirrings of everything pervaded his sights, his senses, until he was aloft too, intending to sojourn straight into the heart of the awakening forest. It was the siren song of clifftops and moonbeams suddenly washing over him, and he shuddered without remorse, embodying a spirit he couldn’t name, couldn’t define, not in this world, but perhaps another; one with fog, one with mist, one with beckoning swirls of glass and crashing waves, agonizingly close but never fully grasped. The warrior turned his head towards Kiada, his turn to entice, coax, and lure, a blending of motivations and aspirations churning in the masked reticence of his features; behind them his longing, his yearning, for adventure and upheaval was such a masterful force that he very nearly grinned at the notion of the unknown. It didn’t scare him, not now, not when there was another world to see, to immerse himself within, to find and capture and understand, not when he could be a beast, not when he could be unleashed, untethered, unshackled. “Ready?” It was a challenge he knew she’d accept; a daring, a provocation, before he turned back and headed straight for the woods. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Kiada