DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
So there it was – the rumors and speculations true, the Merciless back, winding her way along their avenues and settlements, sparking derision, scorn, and insurrection again with every step she took. Were he any other cretin, he might’ve snarled; his face remained utterly nonchalant, despite every inward motion clawing and brewing its way to the surface. Wrath and rage for the threats once lingering on loved ones and friends. Contempt for the position she placed others in. Bitterness over the memories and moments cluttering his skull, for the rebellion that never quite was, for the coup that couldn’t take place. He watched as Loren’s outrage sparked and sizzled, and the mountain remained as if he were in a world of calm – when it was just a remarkable glacial wall conforming over his senses, composed, plotting, coldblooded calculations rising to the tempest, to the forefront. Sometimes he’d truly never left the Reaper world behind, always slightly below the surface, ready and fervent, to vanquish realms and destroy adversaries. “What do you want to do about it?” It would be Loren’s place to decide – which action to take, which way they could unravel and unleash – since he’d been the own disowned, left in the latest tyranny, but all of them were stronger, more capable now, than before, when the wicked witch had taken over with her iron fist and manacles. The cat purring along his shoulder was almost a forgotten thing in the notion of Loren’s announcement, but there were layers and lacquer confined in those words too; a sharpening, narrowing of his eyes in speculation. “Not yet?” His head tilted; the feline did so in turn. “Have you acquired attuned skills as well?”
Unite and spread the heart apart
