DEIMOS
Rexanna’s statement hung like a suspended, likely anvil; and for all their intentions, for all their deeds, for all their actions in restoring the Greatwood to some wandering grounds, there was always something else to follow. A back and forth, a give and take, and then nothing – he half-expected it too, along with anyone else the Fae would utter or demand. There would be a price to pay for misdeeds, consequences and repercussions, and though the Penumbra and Sword had dealt with many in past lives and intervals, they had no control, no contortion, no say in these current aspects. “We will see,” was all he could surmise, the predictions already nuanced into the air. The rotation coiled its way into a sigh, a frown, all those dimming platitudes of the mountains and their ranges dissolving; things he’d hoped and craved and longed for thinning within an instant. But Rexanna knew, knew about the way the Ascended were glanced upon, about the blight’s insurgence, about the mistrust laden amongst those within the hollowed sanction. He couldn’t help but agree; for all their proclaimed ignorance, the Voice’s concoctions weren’t going well for her constituents, compatriots, and children; at least amongst those living in their sanction.
He nodded along with her speculation, even if she couldn’t see, avid agreement in the silence – and the slightest inkling of his thawing heart when she unfurled her last statement. The lightest of smiles appeared, touched but incapable of expressing it any other way, eyes downcast as if embarrassed to be singled out – and then he ushered the same. “Let me be clear – I trust you because of who you are, because I know you. That does not go for all Ascended.” They’d had a lifetime of plotting and machinations together, of slaughter, of exposition – a trusted foundation. He proffered no judgment for her, brought them to individual basis. But he didn’t know many of the others well, save for Wessex, and even then, he kept a distance.
He nodded along with her speculation, even if she couldn’t see, avid agreement in the silence – and the slightest inkling of his thawing heart when she unfurled her last statement. The lightest of smiles appeared, touched but incapable of expressing it any other way, eyes downcast as if embarrassed to be singled out – and then he ushered the same. “Let me be clear – I trust you because of who you are, because I know you. That does not go for all Ascended.” They’d had a lifetime of plotting and machinations together, of slaughter, of exposition – a trusted foundation. He proffered no judgment for her, brought them to individual basis. But he didn’t know many of the others well, save for Wessex, and even then, he kept a distance.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
