they say that war is hell, but,
true hell begins when the battle ends
and you're the only one whose
hands still drip red
“She had been very angry.” She hears Deimos’ voice, a sadness coiling in her gut. She nods as she steps back from her rose, eyes lingering on it before she looks back to Deimos with a small sad smile. He tells her it started during the Cloister, an event she hadn’t been to but had heard much about. “I see.” She admits, brushing the dirt off of her hands on her legs before she moves toward his rose, leaning against one of the taller roots.
“The rumor has been the Ascended spread it.” She says softly, a frown finds her features as she looks away from her friend. “I have not spoken to the Voice about it. But I want to help, to do something. I fear people have started pointing fingers. I’m waiting for the pitchforks and flames.” She says sadly, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks back to the crimson rose with gilt thorns, Phoebe’s and her argument coming to the forefront of her mind.
“I’m sorry.” She tells him, and she means it. She knows how Kiada is, how Deimos had taken on that fatherly role, had been the man in her life she needed that the Penumbra had ripped away from her. And now? To have her rampaging about in a blight frenzy? It can’t be easy.
“The rumor has been the Ascended spread it.” She says softly, a frown finds her features as she looks away from her friend. “I have not spoken to the Voice about it. But I want to help, to do something. I fear people have started pointing fingers. I’m waiting for the pitchforks and flames.” She says sadly, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks back to the crimson rose with gilt thorns, Phoebe’s and her argument coming to the forefront of her mind.
“I’m sorry.” She tells him, and she means it. She knows how Kiada is, how Deimos had taken on that fatherly role, had been the man in her life she needed that the Penumbra had ripped away from her. And now? To have her rampaging about in a blight frenzy? It can’t be easy.
REXANNA
