remember that you can't save everyone
remember that you have to try
He didn’t dwell on the what could have beens – a lifetime of soldier interludes and predilections, instead of the heaby weight the skull bore and broadened across his skull – but it was tempting. Instead, he refilled his glass, shifting the bottle into the middle of the table, eyeing the remains as he lifted the resin to his lips, downed the burning intoxicant along his throat. He’d never demanded attention. He’d never wanted attention; a defiant preference to living amongst and amidst the shadows, where the rest of the demons dwelled, where he was at home, at peace, at solitude, amassed with fellow monsters. Perhaps that’s what the Basin had been, at some point in this juncture – a haven for all the havoc wielding, harpoon mongering, devastation rendering disciples of irreverence and sedition, twists and turns of depravity, cruelty, and eldritch abominations. Caido was different in those aspects, no one so untoward except perhaps Zariah in their utter disregard for anyone else but themselves and power (or at least, the most outspoken of them all). Then he listened to Sunjata’s own quests for rebellion, for the miniscule scraps they tried to snag and snap; dismantling, toppling, fanning the flames of broken, brittle regimes. What would’ve happened if they continued not having a sovereign here, before Zariah took up the flames and mantle? Thereafter, there only seemed to be more chaos instead of composure and calm, collected platitudes – the notion nearly caused him to snort. “Understandable.” He intoned, reflecting on arranged marriages and holstered lineages, on things that monarchs dreamed up whenever they longed for legacies; lasting reigns well beyond their roots and fortifications. The Sword might have rolled his eyes in the process, but instead, riveted them back on the other man. “Would you try to do the same here?” Revolt? Rebel? Overthrow?
out for vengeance
DEIMOS
