I carried my own ashes to the mountains
He watched as Belial eased himself in between the folds of magic, of the woven leaves and the shriveled thorns, of the nettles threatening to turn and hasten – the peryton instinctually placing his wings aside, or unfurling them when the time was right. Habitual inclinations; the companion was brimming with triumphant glee, and Deimos couldn’t take it for what it was worth when it was volleyed back at him. He took another breath and let the enchantments cascade, flicker, filter in a downward spiral – his mind turning in all sorts of directions.
They’d never had any enhancing items, at least as powerful as these relics, in his previous wars. Another element breathing down on them – an arms race, while tensions loomed and bitterness preened and everything seemed to be dragged down a path of no return. What he wouldn’t give to have what had been some years before – even with Zariah’s pettiness and reign, there’d been a semblance, a sense, of camaraderie. Of collaboration, no matter who or what or where they were. Now they all twisted back on one another with bared teeth and hostile enmity; waiting for the next ax to fall. “Do you believe just having them gathered together would trigger the war?” His gaze fell away to the ground, brow furrowing again, in deeper contemplation. It depended on who had what, and he only knew of a certain few in the Old Gods’ possession. “I always figured it would be our actions. Something would happen, and push us all over the edge.” To the inevitable.
Which was why they’d been so careful about Halo. And everything else; far more furtive, far more covert. But the next statement left him wondering too, head raising upward to glance back at Sah. “What do you mean?”
They’d never had any enhancing items, at least as powerful as these relics, in his previous wars. Another element breathing down on them – an arms race, while tensions loomed and bitterness preened and everything seemed to be dragged down a path of no return. What he wouldn’t give to have what had been some years before – even with Zariah’s pettiness and reign, there’d been a semblance, a sense, of camaraderie. Of collaboration, no matter who or what or where they were. Now they all twisted back on one another with bared teeth and hostile enmity; waiting for the next ax to fall. “Do you believe just having them gathered together would trigger the war?” His gaze fell away to the ground, brow furrowing again, in deeper contemplation. It depended on who had what, and he only knew of a certain few in the Old Gods’ possession. “I always figured it would be our actions. Something would happen, and push us all over the edge.” To the inevitable.
Which was why they’d been so careful about Halo. And everything else; far more furtive, far more covert. But the next statement left him wondering too, head raising upward to glance back at Sah. “What do you mean?”
DEIMOS
