[Training] I still don't want to be here

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The General’s gaze remained fixed on the newcomer, on the interwoven layers of frustration constantly brewing, brimming, and lingering over the surface. A portion of the beast wanted to tell him to get used to the sentiments and ruminations, because there was always something else looming around the bend – but saved it, muffled it, stifled it, in the back of his mind. As far as curses, Deimos himself (somehow) had avoided the potential calamity, but had seen, heard, from a variety of others not so fortunate. “It varies. A friend was once cursed with a very bad sunburn.” He didn’t smile or chuckle at the semblance, but figured Chulane’s pain and expense had been far better than other capabilities – like what a herald could muster against an Ascended. Deimos surveyed the youth again as he bristled over the semblance of time and patience; wondering how much of those elements were actually contained in the man, or if it was going to be a painstaking process for him to have those instilled. Fortitude, endurance, and perseverance over a multitude of agonies, anguishes, and defeats was a survival tactic here; otherwise one simply didn’t make it. How many instances had the Sword nearly perished, despite those machinations already embedded and infused within his soul? He contemplated the answer in his hushed measures, picking over a few crackers. “You might make offerings and prayers, but the heralds may not listen or answer. It could take many visits before one is inclined to meet you.” A pause in the rumble, considerations manifesting, mulling motions over. What had he done in the interim? “In the meantime, you can practice your magic, explore, train, and learn how to navigate this world.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace