DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
There was some initial confusion in the way Remi responded – a slight tilt of his head, until the Sword realized his words had been misinterpreted. Not the first, nor the last, despite how many times he’d strived to convey communication in his succinct, concise methods. “My apologies – that is not what I meant.” He inhaled a breath, eased the convictions down into his chest. “Lands is a broad term. I have no intentions towards the Greatwood, nor leadership here.” His eyes rested on the timber, the lines drawn in snow for a moment. “We have made some shelter in King’s End.” Hunkering down for the winter, planning, plotting, drawing out different schemes.
So the next question wasn’t so much a surprise, and Deimos wasn’t arrogant enough to believe their notions were surpassing, unrivaled, or supreme. “I am not certain anything we have ever done has been the best idea.” And here his look resembled an avian differential as well, if not some feline aspect to pinpoint the ventures, the cataclysms, the nuances all their human minds had been able to surmise. But he was willing to change tactics, alter ideas, work from the inside out. “From what I was told, the vote was close. I think one has to consider the people who decided to stay.” As that would transfigure the weight Morgan had. He would never believe someone willing to assault their own people, lay siege to a world they’d supposedly cherished, much of a sovereign.
His eyes widened substantially as Remi laughed; perhaps because he hadn’t heard the sound in a while. But based on the answer, on the way things were construed, laid bare, Deimos didn’t return the boyish junctures. Most of the world couldn’t afford to act the way the Lullaby admittedly could; seemingly no consequences, and no one to hold him back. And the soldier didn’t know what it meant for a lot of things pending, hovering over the horizon. The man’s gaze went downcast for a moment, uncertain where to even begin. “It can make for a very lonely life,” if Remi allowed it. The lack of trust, the indifference, the nonchalance. Deimos knew firsthand. Knew what sacrifices meant. Knew how badly it stung. Perhaps he’d always have his family, always have Ronin, because of the weight of his dominion. Maybe it didn’t matter to the demigod. Maybe it should’ve. “Will you set boundaries for yourself then?” Or remain as he’d said – willing and able to defy the rest of the earth?
So the next question wasn’t so much a surprise, and Deimos wasn’t arrogant enough to believe their notions were surpassing, unrivaled, or supreme. “I am not certain anything we have ever done has been the best idea.” And here his look resembled an avian differential as well, if not some feline aspect to pinpoint the ventures, the cataclysms, the nuances all their human minds had been able to surmise. But he was willing to change tactics, alter ideas, work from the inside out. “From what I was told, the vote was close. I think one has to consider the people who decided to stay.” As that would transfigure the weight Morgan had. He would never believe someone willing to assault their own people, lay siege to a world they’d supposedly cherished, much of a sovereign.
His eyes widened substantially as Remi laughed; perhaps because he hadn’t heard the sound in a while. But based on the answer, on the way things were construed, laid bare, Deimos didn’t return the boyish junctures. Most of the world couldn’t afford to act the way the Lullaby admittedly could; seemingly no consequences, and no one to hold him back. And the soldier didn’t know what it meant for a lot of things pending, hovering over the horizon. The man’s gaze went downcast for a moment, uncertain where to even begin. “It can make for a very lonely life,” if Remi allowed it. The lack of trust, the indifference, the nonchalance. Deimos knew firsthand. Knew what sacrifices meant. Knew how badly it stung. Perhaps he’d always have his family, always have Ronin, because of the weight of his dominion. Maybe it didn’t matter to the demigod. Maybe it should’ve. “Will you set boundaries for yourself then?” Or remain as he’d said – willing and able to defy the rest of the earth?
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
