[Training] notches in the spine

and the only solution was to stand and fight

Some semblance of amusement coerced through him at the questions extended his way – maybe because all too often he was the one unfurling the same inquiries. Rarely did anyone ask about his limitations or if the exertions were too much – perhaps because they hardly were nowadays, but still, it was a nice touch. A smile curled at his mouth, and he shook his head. “I am all right. Up the ante,” he confirmed, granting permission to unleash multitudes.

His focus had to draw back and forth, mind coursing in multiple directions, as if he were out on the hunt again, monsters and mayhem and protecting all intertwined, or across the battlefield, making machinations and plans that could all go to ash and cinders in a matter of moments. None of that was paralleled here, but the semblances were good enough in theory and practice, hastening him into motion rather than the flick of an eye or a simple, long breath.

Sol’s battle cry manifested a brief laugh, before he intertwined the air again. It whipped and curled amongst the flames – not putting them out, but sending them to dissipate, before having to turn and swivel towards the rocks. Eventually, he combined the efforts, sending the air into a spiraling tornado – absorbing the rocks and fire until it was a molten, spinning crescendo, touching no one, balancing amidst the sky. “That should be enough then,” he rumbled in return, grin manifesting once more.

DEIMOS

-Zavien

I've walked through fire

and didn't burn

Treaded some water,

but I emerged

Rolls up like a dead man in the dirt

That's when I learned,

I am unbreakable

It wasn't surprising to see Deimos handle the different aspects so easily, but it always impressed him, nonetheless. He couldn't deny that he was slightly jealous of the multitudes of magic that made the man so powerful, but he also couldn't say that he'd choose to follow the same path if given the choice. So, he remained content to assist in the improvement and practice of the Warden, keeping his throws consist in spite of the fiery tornado that formed. 

Only when Deimos called an end did Zavien let his arms fall, tossing aside the rock that he'd been prepared to throw. "Nice work, although I don't feel like we gave you much of a challenge." He laughed, humorous and good natured as Sol glided back down to his side. Smiling, he propped a hand on his sword hilt. "What else can we do to help?"

and the only solution was to stand and fight

It hadn’t been a choice to be amidst Abandoned; that had run through his blood the moment he was born. But times and places were far more accepting than Caido had once been, and though he could’ve proclaimed a litany of exasperated efforts on accord for the Abandoned, he simply existed, threading and weaving through the knots and the lies and the textures until they weren’t so looked down upon. With everything they’d ever done for this world, and one outlier in the Voice, perhaps one day the history would be simply that and nothing more.

He grinned at the response, shrugging his shoulders; not bothered he’d had an opportunity to practice something out of the norm. “This was plenty. When you obtain a longer ranged weapon for yourself, then maybe we can try a different sort of challenge.” The Dragoon would need practice after all, for whatever he managed to snag. “Thank you for the help.” After extensions of gratitude, they could both be on their way, back into thresholds that needed shielding and protecting.

[FIN]

DEIMOS