DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Remi struggling was new information, but he hadn’t seen him since the disaster at Fiat Lux. Perhaps they would simply have to keep monitoring it, piecing together information as best they could. It was just frustrating and vexing, and he’d grown used to the power, to conforming and constructing anything he wanted, simply from his mind. Now he’d have to learn all over again. Maybe it was for the best. His thoughts mauled one another and contorted upon each other until finally all he could do was shrug. They might eventually learn in time, things would return to normal, or they’d find more changes, more alterations, in the future.
He worked on the antlers now, after the head, the eyes, had been completed; small contortions of the same metal formation, in pieces, pointing upwards, like their own little makeshift spears and daggers. They didn’t bend, but swayed out, much like the rack on any stag. It took immense concentration, and amidst the warmth and absorption, sweat crawled down the back of his neck; and not noticing, once more, the movement of stones beside his feet, maneuvering off to the right, nothing compelling or maneuvering them.
The General snorted at the question, gaze still on the statue, attempting to work the metal to perfection. “I declared it a tie.” Shrugging, half a smile etched on his mouth, before receding into a pretense of disappointment. “No.” Memories of the shot towards the tree, and the ridiculous nature of the whole charade might have encompassed a more amusing figure – except it had been a likely cause of Adam’s death. “He was very accurate though.” Either towards the timber, or the dragon.
He worked on the antlers now, after the head, the eyes, had been completed; small contortions of the same metal formation, in pieces, pointing upwards, like their own little makeshift spears and daggers. They didn’t bend, but swayed out, much like the rack on any stag. It took immense concentration, and amidst the warmth and absorption, sweat crawled down the back of his neck; and not noticing, once more, the movement of stones beside his feet, maneuvering off to the right, nothing compelling or maneuvering them.
The General snorted at the question, gaze still on the statue, attempting to work the metal to perfection. “I declared it a tie.” Shrugging, half a smile etched on his mouth, before receding into a pretense of disappointment. “No.” Memories of the shot towards the tree, and the ridiculous nature of the whole charade might have encompassed a more amusing figure – except it had been a likely cause of Adam’s death. “He was very accurate though.” Either towards the timber, or the dragon.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
