It's taken a lifetime to lose my way
All the wasted time on my hands turns to sand
Simplistic answers for far more meaningful measures and weights, for the world they existed within. They shielded. They presided. They protected. They guarded. And despite no ominous beacons, save for the malicious quandaries of the Order, yet on the horizon, they were there, in the hush of footfalls and the paradigm of winter, to come rushing in. It was all he’d done throughout his life – easy to fall into, to brandish a sword and swing a blade, to demolish and carve in the wake of his magic, in the claws of his shifts, in the chaotic emblem of their entities. There were some noble principles tied and tethered to their presence; and some Machiavellian webs in the back of his mind, safekeeping for a day when furtive natures were necessary, required, for other means.
Never once thinking of themselves.
He nodded, the same smirk still chiseled along his foundations, dragging and pulling, listening to the sled slide across the ice and snow. Zuriel was a remaining figment off to his left, and the Citadel was on the horizon before them, outlined black against the stark white. “Mm. And sometimes vengeance.” An amusing form of justice; to plot, to scheme, to muse, to mull, to conspire, an enemy's downfall.
Never once thinking of themselves.
He nodded, the same smirk still chiseled along his foundations, dragging and pulling, listening to the sled slide across the ice and snow. Zuriel was a remaining figment off to his left, and the Citadel was on the horizon before them, outlined black against the stark white. “Mm. And sometimes vengeance.” An amusing form of justice; to plot, to scheme, to muse, to mull, to conspire, an enemy's downfall.
I'm fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
