DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
The midwife. Not Hotaru – not after banters and flirtations, the assurances in the lightning queen’s eyes. He repeated the refrain over and over again in his mind, not quite understanding, contemplating, or even corresponding to the aforementioned name. Phoebe? Last time he’d even glimpsed upon her might have been with Roana’s triplets, tripping and scattering along the muck and murk rampaging down village routes and streets. He knew very little of her, save for the time he nearly died in the caverns, when she’d summoned gods and he’d nearly been skewered and murdered by whatever thing lived in the walls, which was seemingly a theme in the current stature. Completely ignorant and unware of their tumultuous relationship, of the capricious, mercurial ups and downs, Deimos’s features didn’t display the bewildered sentiments, but they lingered underneath. A tilt to his head, and a nod, shaking his cranium, listening to the way the words sounded frustrated. For a wedding – signaling something else, unsaid motivations that might not have been for devotion and benedictions. But he said naught, striving to sizzle away the forlorn nuances clinging to his soul. Deimos had yet to make anything with the mentioned description, but he sighed, furrowed his brows in concentration, brought his hands up to their familiar glow. Between his palms, the outlines of the circlet began to form, golden bands, argent lines segmented and drawn like stems, and if tilted at the right angle, perhaps adorned with thorns), rising and leading up to the stone, sitting like an ornamental rose; pink-hued per the request. Portions were interwoven, open, and still ornate; uncertain of Frey’s antics but knowing enough not to want to be privy to a god’s curse. “Is this suitable?” The Sword extended it along his fingers, the box following: pastel blended with coral leaves, fronds, and petals, like a blush, passing it forward for inspection. Thereafter, if it passed, he uttered the only other intonation and inquiry passing through the moment. “And yours?”
Unite and spread the heart apart
