always prepared

Deimos The hope voiced; and he nodded in agreement, in solidarity with the wish. They’d had the opportunity this past year, but his sense of duty, obligations, and responsibilities had kept him tied and tethered there, intending to help Rexanna defend the void – and only ending up guarding her makeshift tomb. A barb notched its way through his lungs at the thought, and he gave it no voice, no outlet, except for the clenching of his fists, the pretenses of meandering further down into the fold, another tower, another monolith, rising above the rest when all he wanted to do was sink. His stare rendered and held on a few more stalls, before they’d come to the end, where the market dropped off to further stones, inns, bars, and some other plethora of entertainment, and then reeling out into the sea. The General ceased his movements then, standing amidst the crowd, surveying the rest of the passerbys, before his stare went back to the young Ascended. “If we are not successful at the Grounds, at least you have Torchline and Halo.” A preparation for failure, for them to fall apart in the interim of battle and bombardments, and a plan for everyone else so they didn’t become amongst the number of perished. He’d survived so many, he presumed one day he simply wouldn’t; the scars marking survival, but not noting just how close he’d come to another end. Then he remembered his promise, and a nod indicated the grouping of wares before them. “Did you find anything to your liking?” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime