[DROP] ar hyd y nos

Deimos It should’ve just been a coming together – songs over the horizon, restless sonnets in the din, against the waterfall and its current, alive, justice in something, in something beyond those vacant halls and endless canopies. Amalia rested on his shoulder, and their little group hadn’t been scattered amidst the pits and pendulums, safe, secure. But it was not to be, because nothing ever was here - the Undine rose from the crimson pool, a siren carved in scales, perhaps a mermaid lost on her way to the sea. Where Deimos might not have noticed the blackened scales against the outline of silhouettes, the cool rush of night, Zuriel’s keen gaze lingered on the patches of sickness, on the swell of fatigue, on the rush of another blighted figure. Unwell, she curled into their connection, and the Reaper sighed. Again; again they would have to face a creature dying, fading, and he couldn’t say anything to the owl on his shoulder, couldn’t put it into words for her, not when she’d just lost the beast in the Spire. So he advanced again, Zuriel following, and as he edged closer to the pool, along the embankment, the unicorn nodded towards Undine, bent her head, her knees, alighted a regal nod, a bow, and then settled. Her call to the siren was soft, dulcet, a nicker, before her horn began to glow, an attempt to heal, an attempt to soothe, an attempt to assuage the aches and pains of more and more anguish. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime