who we are and all that we're trying to be
Another healing balm – his eyes went towards the pair, regarding them with a keen eye, before nodding. “Zuriel does the same.” For himself, mainly, since no one’s incantations could seal or stitch away his numerous lacerations and injuries. He’d wondered if there were other abilities conjured within, or if they were mainly presiders of assuaging, soothing gifts – a pondering for another time, perhaps, when he’d met more, when others persisted and walked the earth.
His hands were full of the lumber again, lifting and loading, the echoes less resounding as the wagon began to bear the weight. Zariah’s departure had been odd, considering the amount of wreckage, havoc, and pandemonium she caused – he’d once considered her as an agent of menace, treachery, and dictatorship, and the fact that she’d leave her remnants, fragments, and figments of cruelty behind seemed unlike the Merciless. He shrugged, uncertain of how else to explain it either, when all they’d received was a board notice and Edrei’s short-lived reign. “Maybe a blessing in disguise then,” he smirked, mulling over the possibilities of Zariah simply up and leaving again. Why would always be the ultimate consideration, and where she’d go thereafter. There were far too many she’d maimed and mauled within the Grounds to ever dream of seizing or prospering here once more, but there was no telling where her machinations waxed and waned. Unfortunately, those layers involved evasion, leaving a less than satisfying result. A mauling, a coup, would’ve granted some form of idle contentment.
At her last question, he actually extended a loud rumble of laughter. Morgan wouldn’t know that he’d reigned long before, in worlds apart, had devastated, had marred, had plunged swords and blades into chests, had invaded, had captured, had defined Reaper conflagrations – and had no thought towards experiencing it again. “No.” There’d been plenty of others willing to take the mantle, eager for the throne. A cheekier smile, perhaps a little goading, followed suit. “Would you?” From Zariah? From Neron?
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
