[seasonal event] fell to the top

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

“Many things are probable.” The beast shrugged, narrowing his eyes at Jigano’s suspicions and nuances; how did he know that they were wary of outsiders? Of being open to trade? Or were these simple expositions and guesswork, estimations he hoped would come to fruition? Deimos wasn’t an alliance making harbinger: diplomacy had been difficult in the past, and usually only successful when both sides were capable of exchanging something, whether it be a tentative peace (broken months later, when one kingdom was greedier than the other, when one thought to snag, steal, abscond, avarice gleaming behind lying tongues), or goods, services, cloth and metal, glass and wood. “It likely will not matter until we have something they require.” And who was to say that they did, or would? The Fae had existed without the aid of either Natural or Outlander, deep in their forest, isolated and content. “Some have offered information in exchange for items.” It had been obscure, and he’d been demanding, but proffered the fabric straight from his creating hands without a second thought; how many more would do the same? Or would they twist the enigmas, blend them into deceptive measures, so regardless of being granted what they sought, it wasn’t enough? Should the residents of Caido be doing the same, withholding, all of them circling one another until someone bit or snapped. It was an intriguing conundrum they all faced, misunderstanding, miscomprehending one another left and right, monsters and sacrifices, but only memories (and what for?), warchiefs hastening in the glen, backing off only by a wild fey’s command. The more they ventured, the less he seemed to grasp; and perhaps that was their favored weapon, to cloak and dagger, to disguise and deceive, to obliterate without even trying – not lying, but fabricating. But on the subject of Kiada, besides being a bird, the girl alone was to be praised: “She is magnificent.” And he said so with a proud grin, a being who once saw the potential of her boldness and aptitude; but gone before he could truly see the enormity of it. He’d have to ask her, someday, what had occurred after he’d died, been entombed within the mountains he’d served. Much like an extended family member, the youth had broken him down, only to start helping him fill in the pieces, stitch and seam himself back together again (he could be more than the sum of his losses; renewal, a purpose to being brought back into the folds of the living). For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate