Hang hallowed halos

Deimos Have to be involved caused him to snicker slightly; and only because it was the truth and heart of the matter, how often they seemed to rampage their way through trials and tribulations, born into it, fledgling intricacies and hostilities. It was natural. It was all they’d done for lifetimes before. There was some sort of disaster, they found a way, and maneuvered within it, strategy after strategy, ruse after ruse, knife after knife. Only it sounded as though Kiada had placed herself in a corner, aligned with monsters instead of the rest of the void. And there’d been more than just Ru’in, but this Rixen character, but the Reaper said nothing, understanding the ability to move on, sometimes the need after loss, loss, loss. And she’d lost once more – their cycles, their patterns, their sacrifices. What would it be like to live amidst realms and kingdoms where not everything fell apart every so often? What would they have ever done in peace, in repose, in havens, and sanctuaries? Would they be driven mad by the stagnancy, or morph, adapt, as they’d always done, and revel in the rapture of safety? No fire magic, no other companion, stripped down and away, shifting into something else. He heard her chuckle and while he didn’t reflect it, the curve of a small smile still rested there. “I miss a lot of things,” he sighed, suddenly wistful and homesick. “But I think it is the mountains I long for the most.” The peak of the summits slashed against the horizon, the glistening colors of the auroras blending together, greens, blues, and purples, even the twin monoliths, signaling border lines and signifying protection, symbols and beacons long after their powers had dwindled away to nothing. He breathed, and loosened a long exhale, the depths of his eyes upon hers. “I am sorry I was not there.” To help you, to save you. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime