on the borders of safety

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around
If you hear my voice, follow the sound
'Cause I'm here to guide you home

It was perhaps not the resounding 'yes!' she had hoped for. But it was an acceptance, however tentative, and Seren would rejoice later, when realization sunk in that her party of two had grown into a party of three. With one or two people more, this quest might be doable after all.

Yet she did not feel she could celebrate too loudly yet. Not here, before a man who was already tensing up and sinking into himself. A volcano seething on the inside, its brittle walls constantly crumbling and rebuilding. Deimos had insisted that there was nothing troubling him, but the longer time Seren spent with him, the more she doubted his words. She wanted to ask again, poke and prod until he answered; but intuition whispered that this was not the way to go.

"Thank you," she said instead, trying to keep the concern from coloring her tone too obviously. "I will let you know when we are ready to move forward with this, then. And if you know others who can be trusted to come along, I would appreciate any suggestions."

Slowing down to a halt, she hunched down and smoothed out a piece of sand. Thinking first to write lists of things to do, her fingers only doodled nonsense patterns instead. It was difficult to focus, when all her thoughts circled back to whatever was weighing on Deimos' mind.
"Is there anything I can do for you in return?" she asked eventually, and glanced up. "I'm asking such a big favor of you, after all. It would only be fair for you to do the same."

She was not repeating herself. Just stretching out a hand, offering support if it was wanted.

Seren

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

A nod sanctioned her response, as his long limbs kept moving across the sand, restless and all-enduring. In his forthright mind, he trusted very few now: whittling away down at his edges until a scarce amount remained, uncertain if they’d be interested, or off doing other things. “I will let you know if I think of anyone,” another promise, but quiet and aloof, the potential for withdrawing contorting deeper and deeper into his measures – even though he’d been told time and time again to cease, to desist, in keeping them so thoroughly contained. But sometimes he didn’t know if he wanted help, or how to reach for support, because it was so much easier to not, and suffer by himself.

To stop dragging everything else down around him; like a gravitational pull of misery and melancholy. He was supposed to be the shelter, the sanctuary, the protecting, all-mighty force, until he even ruined that for himself.

Those were his consequences now, and he could feel it binding against his chest all the time.

The refusal was there, right behind his teeth, amidst his jaw clenching, unclenching. Eyes that amassed over the horizon; on the skyline, on stars and constellations and galaxies. “I would not burden you,” was all he could say.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around
If you hear my voice, follow the sound
'Cause I'm here to guide you home

She nodded, accepting of the lack of immediate ideas. Seren couldn't think of anyone straight off the bat either; her father and Remi were always closest to her mind, and though she might be inclined to invite the Lullaby, she wasn't sure he would be interested in coming along. There was the matter of Mateo too; it wouldn't feel right to drag both the boys parents away at the same time.

Slumping down to sit on the sand, content to let Deimos pace at his own leisure, the young woman nevertheless followed him with her gaze. Calm and steady, now that the topics that made her excited had been dealt with, she couldn't help but roll her eyes slightly at his reply.
"Why do you assume that anything you could say or ask of me would be a burden? Talking to you certainly isn't. And if you haven't noticed, I am really good at making things lighter."

Case in point, she forced her blessings on the area surrounding herself, and all about her both rocks and sand, items and baubles began to bob slightly, drifting upwards on unseen torrents. But Seren remained moored in place, immovable as a cliff.
"What do you think I will do? Cry? Break down? Stop liking you? Betray your trust?"

Tapping a blue-toned seashell with a finger, she watched it zoom off towards the General. If he didn't catch it or step out of the way, it was set on a course to thump straight into his chest.

Seren

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

She sat and he stilled, the uncertainty beginning to reel within his mind, the flagging depths waging more than one war in his head. His gaze went to her incessant eyeroll, and he looked down at the ground, heaving a sigh. There were a multitude of answers he could’ve given. Because he was used to being tossed aside and defeated. Because he was used to keeping everything notched and gnarled and knotted until something broke and no one was there to see. Because he was so god damn tired of trying and striving and it all falling apart anyway. Because his decisions could either be calculated and weighed, hellbent on vengeance, vehemence, and ruin, or to keep everyone safe. Except for himself.

Experience had taught him that it didn’t really matter if his walls crumbled and his soul decayed, withered, and punctured; people left. If he made a mistake, people shunned. If he believed he was doing the right thing, it wasn’t. So what was the point?

His jaw clenched again, and he could hear her mother’s words sinking against his spine, and the inevitable reality that he simply didn’t want to yield. “It has been for most people,” and he shrugged his shoulders, attempting to cast it aside once more. Where he could deflect and billow away, where he could rampage and destroy somewhere else. How many times had he listened to others? Took their concerns? Took their weight, their grief, their sorrows? How many times had he tried to fix things that simply couldn’t be mended anymore?

The Sword looked up at her inquiries, one right after the other, unfurling a snort. “Perhaps.” Deimos didn’t expect the shell to come flickering towards him though, but with one minor incantation of Air, it spiraled back, going upwards, gaining height and ascension, until he allowed it to simply hover. “I have made some very poor decisions lately.”

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around
If you hear my voice, follow the sound
'Cause I'm here to guide you home

She was not most people.

The words burned on her tongue, itching to be spoken aloud. Seren swallowed them down, down, and simply breathed in a deep lungful of air instead. Not a sigh, merely to ground herself. How did it come so easy, this patience, as soon as she found someone before her with knots to untangle? Here was a puzzle to solve, a story to be told, yarns to unravel until clouded skies cleared and things that were heavy no longer bent shoulders into the ground.
But Deimos did not want to be scrutinized, or fixed. That much she understood, without having to be told. His snorts were speaking volumes, marking where her words struck home - emphasis laid on the forcefulness behind the expletives - and his not-answers could as well be screams shouting yes, yes at the top of his lungs.

She was beginning to learn. Slowly, but surely.

"Won't you tell me about them?" she offered him. Again, for a second time; but that did not matter. What did matter was the shift from a denial of troubles, to this small admission that something actually was eating away at him. A small step forward, a crach in the shell; it was so hard not to claw at it, to pry it wider by sheer force. Seren didn't want to be that person.
"Sometimes it really helps to simply say things aloud. Your secrets would be safe here."

She jestured to the hidden realm around them; there was no one else to listen in. No one to pry, no glaring sunlight to sting the eyes or leave him vulnerable. There was only the stars and the sea, the beach and a young girl with blue eyes, who had no plans on leaving anytime soon.

Seren

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

He kept his attention not on her, but on the shell; using it as a distraction as he turned and twisted in various directions: a restless mind kept busy by simplistic torrents while his machinations ran wild. Life had, unfortunately, taught him not to trust many. Brethren at arms, when they were together in the same flanking order, rushing forward to meet an adversary, were kindred spirits. Family, when they lived, were portions of faith and belief and adherence. But he’d lost so many that it simply became easier to glance at the world and presume it meant harm; either through manipulations, danger, treachery, deceit, lies upon lies upon lies, or the cunning of opponents, of enemies, coming to strike them all apart.

So she could offer her little vows of silence – but for how long? He didn’t know her, not really. A child of Safrin and Ronin. Young, impressionable, wanting to show realms and sovereignties what she was made of.

And while Seren might have trusted him, and he’d hold to his convictions, and the walls of a portal could be safe – what about the rest of the earth? Suspicion held him very still, even while the shell was not. “And outside of here?”

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around
If you hear my voice, follow the sound
'Cause I'm here to guide you home

The way she blinked at the question really said everything. Seren hadn't considered that there might be a loophole in her promises, that her promise to keep his secrets could be taken for anything but all encompassing and honest and sincere.
"Outside? Well, they would still be safe. And it's not like I would tell everyone who sets foot in here either. Why would I do that? It's your secrets, or story, or..." Tangling herself helplessly in words, Seren eventually gave up and slumped to her back in the sand, while her toys thumped down to where they had lied before.

"You don't have to trust me if you don't want to," she sighed softly, doing everything she could to banish the little thorn of hurt that pricked at her throat. "You can... but you don't have to." Maybe she was the only one who didn't need time or trials to believe the words of others. Possibly she was naive to the point of stupidity - but it was fine. Better that than suspicious, uhappy and alone.

Seren

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

Deimos had never considered his trust issues an offense; but a personal line and tether he kept on the world. Being betrayed and abandoned by those he’d considered family, friends, brethren, and loved ones for years upon years, lifetimes upon lifetimes, had bent him into such a disarray that now it seemed to be maiming others, and that hadn’t been his intention. His brows furrowed again, eyes no longer tracking the shell as it lifted and floated along, making haphazard patterns before him. A deep sigh rankled through him again, not at her, but at the self-loathing. At the bitterness. At the rancor. At trying to become better, and somehow failing each time. “It was not meant to insult you. I have just been hurt many times by many people.” And he’d take the outward lacerations and the brutal scars over the inward cuts and slashes, the ones he wore on his soul.

Letting go was perhaps the most difficult proportion to all his crumbling walls and neglected shelters. So the Sword permitted a piece to float along – extending the shell back towards her on puffs of wind and breeze manifested – until it could bounce and bound down at her feet. “I set fire to a building in Torchline, meant to be a crime ring – one of Sunjata’s - because of my hatred for him. Because I wanted to help Ru.” Maybe she knew of her. He didn’t know anymore. His voice grew very quiet, a distant murmur, and perhaps it would get lost in the sand and not have to be repeated ever again. “I let the Warden know of my crimes, and lost my position.” Here echoed a self-deprecating laugh, hollowed and caved in, a shake of his head as he stared at dunes and granules. “I ruined everything I had worked for.” In three fireballs and a torrent of condemnation.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around
If you hear my voice, follow the sound
'Cause I'm here to guide you home

His apology didn't make her feel a bit better, truth be told. Now Seren had wonder if he was talking to her just to keep her from being upset - it made her feel like a bully, rather than a helper. Breathing deeply, she breathed out tension like it was miasma streaming from her lungs, and tilted her head slightly where she lay among the dunes. The seashell came drifting back towards her, landing by her feet in the sand; scooting about, she picked it up and turned the piece between her fingers, waiting for what he might say next.

It was... shocking. Claiming anything else would have been a lie. Suddenly answers to a question she had been brewing over was dumped right in front of her, and while Seren was relieved to be entrusted with this information, she also realized immediately why Deimos had been hesitant to say anything. A conversation with the Arbiter in Torchline made all her promises feel hollow and insincere - Maeve had asked her to stay quiet about a maybe, but she had not. And now, here was a confession... but saying anything to anyone would be to drive a dagger into Deimos' back, breaking any credibility she had as a friend and confidante beyond repair.

And the consequences of his actions did nothing to help the situation either. It was a heavy thing to carry around indeed. Too heavy? Seren pushed herself up on her elbows, to gaze thoughtfully at the general - the former general.

No... she could still breathe. It was still alright.

"So you were there, too," she murmured, rolling her head back to stare blankly up at the stars. "I didn't know - I know Hotaru was, because of Atlas, but..." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry you lost your job, Deimos. Are... you still going to stay here in Halo?"

Seren

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

The Sword waited for another ax to fall. He’d become quite competent at it – standing in the midst of chaos or revelations, and presuming judgement would come to slash down over his neck, remaining like a forbearing statue, capable of binding himself back, piece by piece, form by form. Except it seemed more and more difficult each time, and while he wouldn’t shy away from his consequences, he hadn’t anticipated how much he’d lose in a series of stupefying moments. In ignoring his own advice, he’d been claimed by aftermaths and ramifications; blatantly corroding the forged steel, the persistent might.

The burden was still there, shackled to his shoulders. The silence grated and so he took a stick and carved little nuances and pathways in the sand, like it was some semblance of escape from the circumventing contortions in his mind, or the bludgeoning of eventuality coming to smother and drown him.

He didn’t expect the murmur – presumed there’d be hostility and anger, wrath and contempt, disappointment and half-hearted regrets. However, there was something within that he latched onto – not the apologies, not the rue, but the too, and Atlas. “Did Ru tell you what happened?” Woven somehow, someway, he was certain, in a level of deceit – because that was the Valkyrie through and through – before he prospered another sigh, concocted another trail in the dunes that seemed to reach a dead-end. “I am going to try,” like he owed the world something, even when he’d let the other remnants topple and fall. Never before had he let his kingdom down in such a way; and there were other notions to consider. Obligations to Safrin, motions that would not pass from behind his teeth. “Otherwise there is only the Greatwood left.”

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around
If you hear my voice, follow the sound
'Cause I'm here to guide you home

Seren sat up; this was too involved a conversation for her to be lounging leisurely as if this was her own bedroom.
"No, not exactly," she replied, carving patterns into the sand with her seashell. "I was there, when it happened. I tried to help Atlas... but.." For the first time, Seren cast a glance towards the mound at the center of the island. If studied closely, what looked like a dried twig could be seen jutting from the sand. Twisted, coiled in on itself; a horn, bone saplings grown from decaying roots. Her expression was sad, and frustrated; but there was nothing she could do about it. Not yet.
"A mutual friend told me who the unicorn was bonded to, so I knew she was involved."

It was somehow a relief to hear that the man wasn't going anywhere. Halo was wild and vast, sprawling with the unknown. Here, at least, she had a familiar face to turn to when passing by. And he clearly loved this place; leaving would have been too sad.
"I'm glad to hear it. The things you were building... can you do them without the title? I suppose it might be more difficult, though... Without the resources." Respect, renown, authority to do as he pleased; but much of that Seren guessed he would carry with him, even without a title to spell it out.

Seren

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

Subsequent admissions rung in hallowed halls, and his head fell, bowed, in a sullen sigh. The stick in his hand ceased motions while he contemplated, while he recalled, while he remembered. Bits and pieces that Hotaru had told him – about a woman who’d gone after her beloved companion, about the pieces unraveling after he’d left, his part done, the damage continuing to spiral well out of control. “Do you know who did it?” And then he followed her line of sight, back to the mound at the center of the island, and flinched. The depths of his piercing eyes hardened at what could only be a burial barrow, and something sickened in his gut, curled and coiled over, barreling into his chest. “Thank you for trying.”

Because it seemed to be all they could ever do – and it only reeled in the back of his mind that these stupefying efforts hadn’t been worth it. The latter had been ringing in his ears and he hadn’t given a damn until the piercing shards had landed into his entity.

His gaze didn’t leave that mass though. Half-distracted by the other ruminations swarming in his brain (that Ru had stated she’d killed the woman responsible – but what if she hadn’t…), he missed the first proportions of her next statement, and had to rivet his stare away, clamber it back to sands and grains. “I will train and adhere to my duties, but I will not be leading anything.” Not at the head of the routine guard patrols. Not tending to instruction. Not formulating plans for defenses, for munitions, for sieges. Instead, he’d commit to normal grunt work, and that would be that – with the most experience out of all of them, forged long ago for war. "So, most likely not."

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

If you're caught in the shadow then turn around
If you hear my voice, follow the sound
'Cause I'm here to guide you home

Bowing her head, a faint shrug was all she could offer as she turned away from the mound. Too little, too late; trying was not enough. If her penchant for weapons and training had been out of interest and enjoyment before, the practice had been given direction now. Seren didn't want to be left staring at the smoldering remains of something precious again. She had so much to learn... and perhaps not enough time to do so.

The question made her hesitate, but as she had already offered information to one side, she might as well keep it even. Be fair; this was not her conflict to take sides in.

"Yes, I do," she nodded, subdued. "It was the new Arbiter. Trying to do her job; she took her duties much too far." Explanations had been given, past events and shadows of an old life bleeding into the present, until fire and blood had seemed the only option. Seren was not making excuses; she vehemently disagreed with Aurelia on the subject, and had been left very unsatisfied after their conversation.

The sad truth was, no one was innocent here. Not Deimos, not Hotaru, nor Aurelia. Not even Maeve, who had asked for information to be left under lock and key, nor the selfish men who lingered at the root of all this. It was an infected situation, a smoldering powder keg just waiting to explode; and Seren had a nagging suspicion that she had dipped her fingers too far into it to come out unscathed.

Glancing up at Deimos, the young woman fingered a coil of night-dark hair, threading the strands between her fingers. Braiding aimlessly, undoing and redesigning.
"Are you... content with that?" she wondered, almost cautiously. It must be frustrating; so much hard work, undone by a single impulsive action. She hoped he would not be tempted to continue on that path. A single stone set to tumbling could so easily trigger rockslides and avalanches, turning something bad into catastrophe beyond repair.

Seren

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

Atlas had been entirely innocent where the rest of them were firmly not, and that was probably the most difficult portion. There to guard and watch, to look upon the world as they prompted their devastation and revenge. To be slain simply because one was connected to the other had been unjustified – but he wasn’t sure he had the anger, the fuel, the fire for malice in those adornments too. Just a weight in exhaustion, just a fatigue in the way life had played out, in the decisions made. A shame that it had to happen at all.

New Arbiter, taken Sunjata’s place, likely striving to maintain some order in a sovereignty not renowned for such sentiments. He might not have faulted her there, but neither Sword nor Reaper had ever gone in vehemence for a companion – for bonded souls, for animals that had no authority or dictating in the events of their comrades. He poked and prodded at the sand again with the stick, dictating new sketches and pathways for its lines. “Did she make it out?” Or had Hotaru completed that cycle of revenge?

The question stoked something in his veins, but he wouldn’t name it. “No.” Honest and truthful; how could anyone be content with putting their head down and forgetting everything they’d done for a sovereignty all too willing to discard them? It was a hard lesson to take in, a difficult pill to swallow, but he’d obtained those consequences on his own, in fire-forged scar running inward. “But I will take my punishment.” And bide his time.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I