DEIMOS
the fire can't touch me
for I have burned too many times
for I have burned too many times
The pieces of truth finally began to unravel, and it stilled his blade even further – because there were suddenly implications catching their nettles, their thorns, over the brambles of his machinations. Clarity was a startling juncture, and something kept a steady rivulet in his lungs, a beckoning, reaching, grasp until he finally had to relent and take in a sharp inhale. The mountain grew impossibly rigid, jaw clenching, everything beginning its stoking endeavors of impassivity because that way he could hide. He could decipher. He could run through the machinations over and over again until they made sense. “I am aware.” But only in bits and pieces. In the overview. In the way they assembled, and he’d believed the Harpy out of harm’s way – protected here, tucked away in the stretch of frigid might.
The ramifications built and bristled. Why Elide was in a hurry. Why nothing felt quite right. Why the ominous trepidation had still gnarled its way through his bones, even as they were all behind barriers and frozen portals.
Because this also meant Kiada wasn’t safe. And he’d only just gotten her back.
Was she damned and due to die again?
And there he was, utterly incapable of doing anything. Of pressing what scarce knowledge he had, of granting advice to those who might be going there just to fall apart. And not even more than a year ago, he’d been so damned angry at Samuel for refusing. For permitting LongNight to continue. For refusing to fight, to gauge the onslaught. He was seditious all over again, could feel the contempt launching and leaping in his ribcage, in the slate of his lungs, in the breadth of his being. So the beast didn’t fall apart there, not at the seams, not in the multitudes of motions and ruminations, sentiments burning against him, struggling on where to even start. His vocals were a rumble, a start to a muted roar, breaths tightly controlled. “How are you to get there with the portal closed?” Maybe that would be all it was – a call to arms, to slaughter, and they’d be off, taken from shelter and sanctuary. “And what do you want to know about LongNight?”
The ramifications built and bristled. Why Elide was in a hurry. Why nothing felt quite right. Why the ominous trepidation had still gnarled its way through his bones, even as they were all behind barriers and frozen portals.
Because this also meant Kiada wasn’t safe. And he’d only just gotten her back.
Was she damned and due to die again?
And there he was, utterly incapable of doing anything. Of pressing what scarce knowledge he had, of granting advice to those who might be going there just to fall apart. And not even more than a year ago, he’d been so damned angry at Samuel for refusing. For permitting LongNight to continue. For refusing to fight, to gauge the onslaught. He was seditious all over again, could feel the contempt launching and leaping in his ribcage, in the slate of his lungs, in the breadth of his being. So the beast didn’t fall apart there, not at the seams, not in the multitudes of motions and ruminations, sentiments burning against him, struggling on where to even start. His vocals were a rumble, a start to a muted roar, breaths tightly controlled. “How are you to get there with the portal closed?” Maybe that would be all it was – a call to arms, to slaughter, and they’d be off, taken from shelter and sanctuary. “And what do you want to know about LongNight?”
the sea can't harm me
for I have been drowning all my life
for I have been drowning all my life
