DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Then it was a multitude of notions, of plans, of ruminations, and he wished he could’ve conjured a piece of paper across the sea in order to remember and recall it all when the next season arrived. For now, he’d have to commit it to recollection, schemes, and musings, jot the plans down when he returned home or to the barracks. Another point in time, they’d done the same for Fiat Lux, and the familiar press of failure cut through his mind again – notched another feathering of his jaw, while he stared and listened. “Yes.” A forum, perhaps in the newly-built Temple, to ensure understandings and comprehensions pierced and punctured through. They’d proffer their warnings over and over and over again; and maybe that would be enough.
A part of him already knew the answer – the singular, foreboding essence rampaging down his spine.
“We could,” Deimos prospered in return though, utilizing the efforts and hands of the Artisan’s Guild members. He’d intended to have them making some form of carpeting with the snow moss, and stitching together hides for warmth. The fiend floated along, making a couple turns with arms and legs, adjusting his position along the top of the waves. The other statement, one of fires along coastlines, of setting out lantern lights to blister across undulations and currents, might have caused the slightest smile to appear on the Sword’s face, before he dashed it away, glancing up at the clouds. “You could post a notice about that too. See who might be interested.”
A part of him already knew the answer – the singular, foreboding essence rampaging down his spine.
“We could,” Deimos prospered in return though, utilizing the efforts and hands of the Artisan’s Guild members. He’d intended to have them making some form of carpeting with the snow moss, and stitching together hides for warmth. The fiend floated along, making a couple turns with arms and legs, adjusting his position along the top of the waves. The other statement, one of fires along coastlines, of setting out lantern lights to blister across undulations and currents, might have caused the slightest smile to appear on the Sword’s face, before he dashed it away, glancing up at the clouds. “You could post a notice about that too. See who might be interested.”
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
