DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Conduits and catalysts, anarchical swings and sways immersed within enchantments and invocations. His had rippled through a multitude of times in a multitude of ways – to save, to protect, or to destroy. Power, precision, and pernicious persuasion, his favored properties in unwinding, unfurling, unraveling upon adversaries, whether they included monsters or humans, or the simultaneous inclusion of both. If it wasn’t the flames, then it was the pulsing beat of the life drain, pervading, surrounding, defying anyone and everyone. No one had taught him how to properly wield the latter; some afraid, some curious, left to his own devices because it’d been the first of their bloodline and accord to signify the depths of death. His father had mastered fire, his mother had mastered water, and everyone else had wandered somewhere in between, twisting and turning amongst the elements. But she noted she too held embers and cinders, the blistering maelstroms capable of flaring to life, tilting his head on the minute fraction of a grin too – fellow pyromaniacs. “In time then.” Because the more they practiced, the more they coaxed, the more they maneuvered around this world, the more they seemed to embody and strengthen, appeal and counteract.He didn’t expect the compliment extended towards him, muffling another grin – because while he hadn’t been born with the weight of a blade in his palms, he’d grown into the regard, childhood left behind for war and invasions, for tenacity, for glory. “How did you learn?” He suspected some notions of family or simply by sheer experience and necessity, life in the mountains occasionally solidifying into cruelty, into danger, into malicious purposes. The knife itself was then taken, “You are welcome,” embedded into his rumbling tones, before he gave way to creating other pieces.
Unite and spread the heart apart
