DEIMOS
The Voice had called them all, like a siren, like a sonnet, and they’d flocked to her leagues, to her follies, to her pursuits. Understanding the deity’s role in the blight, in the pestilence, hadn’t earned her anything but ill regard in the Sword’s notations and observations – his eyes narrowed a perceptive degree, would’ve been seen as dangerous, as treacherous, as scathing and contemptuous, had it been aimed or directed at anyone. Instead, his stare fissured and rankled upon the edges of the room, while his mind contemplated all these bewitching spells and considerations: why. Power? Glory? A further foothold in the world? Had to kill the tree coursed along his mind too. “Did you have to injure anything else?” All those armed Fae guards lurking along its decrepit wood, there to ensure no others scorched upon their broken pedestals, paragons, or beings – or another, lingering, brooding, brewing contortion? Would they remain there out of rancor, to see if anyone returned to the scene of the crime?
Zariah’s movements within the rotation and revolution were bizarre too. Had the former tyrant been in collaboration with the Voice? His mind spun and his questions crackled, inquiries ignited and inspired by the wave of conspiracies, trials, and tribulations pressing into the flames; fanned and fanned and fanned. “How did she already arrive to the other side?” How could she already have been there to open the portal? Was there another way, then?
Zariah’s movements within the rotation and revolution were bizarre too. Had the former tyrant been in collaboration with the Voice? His mind spun and his questions crackled, inquiries ignited and inspired by the wave of conspiracies, trials, and tribulations pressing into the flames; fanned and fanned and fanned. “How did she already arrive to the other side?” How could she already have been there to open the portal? Was there another way, then?
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
