Hurt so Good

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

What Deimos had lacked in affection, in warmth, or any sentiment of caring due to his enchantments, he’d made up for amidst intimidation. Ancient detachment, a void, a vessel, hollowed and empty, piercing, penetrating, puncturing until an adversary, an enemy, was broken at his feet. He’d been a ferocious force, a foreboding figure along the Basin mountains, a promised, living, breathing weapon. And for a time, it’d been fine, it’d been normal, to feed into the frenzy of frictions and disaster, to unwind himself again and again at the mercy of their leaders, rushing headlong into battle, protecting their border lines, haunting the perimeter, the sanction, the sanctuary of auroras. Then he’d become the crown too, and assembled the same machinations once more – a smoldering, devastating statue against the backdrop of ivory and snow, chilling, chilling, chilling; undulating discord and iniquity. Perhaps his indifference had been legendary too, the slash of a blade, the crush of his might, the weight of his magic tearing through limbs and bones and flesh. He’d learned every in and out of those invocations, the slide of its puissance, the devastating quality of its hushed whispers, the avaricious plunge of its greed; savored, relished, and abhorred none of it. Not even realizing what he’d missed in his former life before coming here – suddenly anointed with more friends, more family, more loved ones, than he ever thought possible. The targets made their lines again, and he stepped back to survey their repaired soldiers, snorting at one that still held a slight cant, adjusting and anchoring it back into the ground, listening, he’d spend eternities listening, to Jigano’s further explanations of their magic. Interesting that something like earth wasn’t general: they had specific lines and spells memorized to incorporate and encompass their regards. “Ours were common, but particular and fixed too.” A pause in his notions, considerations and explanations affixed along his speculation. “Depending on one’s rank, you could gain invocations from our patron gods too. Our menders received healing magic, our engineers crafting magic, and so on.” He hadn’t had much faith in those deities either; somewhere in the midst of his irreverence. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate