DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Deimos unfortunately didn’t have all the answers to her questions. Of all his responsibilities, duties, and tasks, the Artisan’s Guild hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind – to his own detriment and errors, despite utilizing and recruiting for the same enterprise and community during Fiat Lux. He’d been torn between too many other things, especially as of late, but the guild took care of itself as a whole, as a unit, a wealth of knowledge and support amongst walls, kiosks, and stalls. Even without him constantly hovering over it, it was effectual, prospering amidst the individuals who carefully cultivated their wares for the rest of the world. “I do not,” and as the Guildmaster, he likely should’ve winced at such a statement, puncturing eyes flickering over to the apertures and thresholds, the mantle of tools waiting to be utilized by whomever required their distinctions. Remi had been the professional at these whims and conversations; not him. Those moments were gone now too. “But you may ask around.” There were plenty of others better gifted and acquainted, especially with the foreign, otherworldly materials than himself; a fiend who merely crafted and created from the magic contained in his blood, in his veins. He understood purpose though, the weight of it, the wanton craving for it: goals, absolutions, aspirations, and ambitions scouring over minds. Instead of wandering, instead of sinking. So with another wave and torrent of calm, composure, he merely offered parameters and possibilities, where she could linger without doubts, and continue to gain access to this world. “You are welcome to join the guild.” The lightest of smiles appeared on the edges of his mouth, fading quickly though, forgoing, too many other munitions and miseries etching beneath his skin. “You could learn here any time you please.” Concoct, cultivate, and construct, or decipher all the tools she relished.
Unite and spread the heart apart
