DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
The alteration was anything but subtle; one moment jovial, the next a demonic contempt. He stood still, stark and vast in the pervading emotions – for he knew the clarity of rage well. It brimmed and bristled against him, in the cold, cold, cold arches and eaves of the Citadel, and for half a moment he thought to be absorbed in it. It had been a long time since he gave into all the wrath, all the abhorrence, lodged within his chest and ribs and bones; too calm in the constant, unleashed parameters. It was tempting, enticing, to drown in the wake of another’s indignation – because he was angry too.
That they were all under her spell now.
That they were going to be used for her bidding.
That one of those he cherished the most was doomed and damned.
So the Sword breathed, listened, standing within the immersion of Ludo’s upheaval, of the seditious roar. He listened, taking it all in while other calculations stirred. How the Voice had managed to sneak in. How he’d never heard of this before. How there’d been an opportunity to divest both Old and New God followers alike, to turn them against pieces of their livelihoods. How they’d been lured, and enticed, and for what? To battle monsters? To ensure she had some semblance of an army? So they could be slaughtered?
His hands balled into fists, his jaw clenched, and he slid another breath, a sharpened, clear inhale out of his lungs. “Is there a way to fortify Mort’s realm at this time of weakness?”
That they were all under her spell now.
That they were going to be used for her bidding.
That one of those he cherished the most was doomed and damned.
So the Sword breathed, listened, standing within the immersion of Ludo’s upheaval, of the seditious roar. He listened, taking it all in while other calculations stirred. How the Voice had managed to sneak in. How he’d never heard of this before. How there’d been an opportunity to divest both Old and New God followers alike, to turn them against pieces of their livelihoods. How they’d been lured, and enticed, and for what? To battle monsters? To ensure she had some semblance of an army? So they could be slaughtered?
His hands balled into fists, his jaw clenched, and he slid another breath, a sharpened, clear inhale out of his lungs. “Is there a way to fortify Mort’s realm at this time of weakness?”
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
