DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Zuriel, proud and dignified, still managed to retain her haughty demeanor with a very self-satisfied, smug air as she tended to each of them. Her incantations flowed, her mending soothed, and she was once more responsible for the safety and healing of others; a pivotal role, a catalyst, a beacon. Justified in receiving her scratches, the mare clearly looked for some demonstration of treat bearing, but that would likely have to wait until after the final outcries of ”Eyes!” were silenced.And Deimos did just that, with little hesitance – a burst of fire and flame ravaged, savaged, the depths of the Stygian plumage, and its croaks weren’t lasting. The ashes fell to the cavern floor with nothing more than a few more feathers stuck into the edges. A huff of irritation bristled through him, before his eyes roamed back to his comrades. “Should be just ahead.” And he jutted his chin forward, resumed the torch-lighting, and carried on, presuming they were fine. Belial carted his gore crow corpses in his mouth like a prize, and Zuriel maneuvered onward.
Thereafter, the aperture opened up to their destination: the underground hot springs, outlined in rocky formations, in pebbled embankments, and the promise of nurturing, flickering warmth. The Sword would always be appreciative of its healing nature, and the way it had staved off the sickness for lengthy periods of time while they puzzled and mired their way through. A welcome generosity of the land before them, permitting them to leave the remnants of the vermin behind, and into the threshold of why they’d arrived in the first place.
Removing the bag of holding from his shoulder, and ignoring the fresh, new bloodstains already dotting his clothing, Deimos grabbed hold of the vials and containers they’d be using to collect the water. Then he maneuvered onward, hastening them towards Noah and Aisha, before sidling over to the edge, and glancing down.
Unite and spread the heart apart
