remember that you can't save everyone
remember that you have to try
“I will let you know. Chulane was interested in helping too.” A pause, reflecting through snippets of time, where the grief was paramount and shattering, before there was a notion of catharsis, and the momentum of despair was an outpouring, shuddering emblem of just how much he could break. “Though it may largely depend on the portal. Will it be closed for all of Deepfrost again?” That would mean their only opportunity would be before, leaving Halo adrift without leadership or protection – except from those remaining. An unwise notion, based on prior experiences in any world, his head tilting to survey, to scrutinize, to ponder, gaze circumventing back to the Warden. A distraction into other designs segmented his attention back onto the paper he’d produced, charcoal beginning to form quick brushstrokes of outlines. “I made an ice shield,” and he depicted it along the entryway of the dragon’s cavern, what had guarded, what had chiseled, what had been adorned out of necessity. “And then using my water magic, melted some portion of the ice here,” and he drew a small rivulet, underneath the tiny image of a fallen dragon – memories of where Adam and Peter still likely stayed, preserved, nearby. “And the companion drifted towards us.” He shrugged thereafter, brows furrowed, slanting his cranium again, as if to approach it from another angle. Would he be able to do the same again with larger bodies? He hadn’t anticipated the notion of the great lizard believing the two fallen to be treasure. If they were amongst the hoard, that would present another problem. “I have made myself an invisibility cloak too. Perhaps I could make more. Or find someone with illusion magic.” Out of sight, out of mind? The charcoal was placed down again, waiting for a response from a neutral party, more in favor of drinking thereafter.
He listened and managed another snort about the Launceleyns’ and their track record for trials and tribulations. Deimos’ had enough experience with Zariah’s ilk to last a damned lifetime, though he hadn’t heard much of Neron as of late. There was a very brief arch to his brow again, however, as Morgan seemed to hesitate and mull over a faction of her words, before pressing onward. Perhaps that was something else to ponder. “Considering Zariah,” who had caused problems within the Hollowed Grounds in a very short amount of time, “it is likely.” Another sip of the liquor, eyes flickering back over parchment, curiosity stoking and honing in. “What happened to the previous Warden?” Letters from Kiada had been sparse in the last winter; enough to detail Neron’s imprisonment, Weaver’s rise, and then difficult to decipher later.
out for vengeance
DEIMOS
