DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
At Astra’s insistence, he dug through the bottom of his bag, locating some carrots he’d brought for Zuriel. Breaking them apart, he shared them amongst the companions, placing them flat on his hand – the unicorn snatched hers quickly, leaving only the luxere’s behind.
He listened to Loren’s preparations - could’ve told a lifetime of stories where all he’d ever done was lose too –invasion after invasion, land after land, but it hardly seemed to matter. Here was different – kingdoms weren’t conquered, and instead, there were other bizarre infestations, sicknesses, ailments, prejudices, flickering and faltering, human and moral qualities consistently called into question. They could arm and guard and fortify all they craved, and sometimes things worked under their boldness, and others they went into a steady opposition. Their friends, family, and loved ones perished. They often survived on either fortune or happenstance.
The break seemed over though, and he remained in silence. Rising back off the ground, he snagged the lantern back from the earthen floor, following after the lion’s pacing. The monolith wasn’t certain if it was dread, apprehension, or some other emotion flickering down the back of his spine at the lava – perhaps mere circumstances and calamities surrounding Kiada’s death. He wouldn’t ask about it. Had been told enough, enough, enough -
A breath, and then he stared at the cracks, at the magma flowing along walls. “I will leave it alone. If it causes an issue, then I can seal it.” The Sword had no intention of tampering with the formations, or the land, any more than necessary; shifting rock out of their path had been one thing, but restructuring contortions quite another. He kept going along the bend, the apprehension not left behind.
He listened to Loren’s preparations - could’ve told a lifetime of stories where all he’d ever done was lose too –invasion after invasion, land after land, but it hardly seemed to matter. Here was different – kingdoms weren’t conquered, and instead, there were other bizarre infestations, sicknesses, ailments, prejudices, flickering and faltering, human and moral qualities consistently called into question. They could arm and guard and fortify all they craved, and sometimes things worked under their boldness, and others they went into a steady opposition. Their friends, family, and loved ones perished. They often survived on either fortune or happenstance.
The break seemed over though, and he remained in silence. Rising back off the ground, he snagged the lantern back from the earthen floor, following after the lion’s pacing. The monolith wasn’t certain if it was dread, apprehension, or some other emotion flickering down the back of his spine at the lava – perhaps mere circumstances and calamities surrounding Kiada’s death. He wouldn’t ask about it. Had been told enough, enough, enough -
A breath, and then he stared at the cracks, at the magma flowing along walls. “I will leave it alone. If it causes an issue, then I can seal it.” The Sword had no intention of tampering with the formations, or the land, any more than necessary; shifting rock out of their path had been one thing, but restructuring contortions quite another. He kept going along the bend, the apprehension not left behind.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
