[Training] [se] these years of infinity

Deimos He listened, considering with a faint smile; if it was sad or plainly adorned, he didn’t mention why. Maybe because, even if Kor was still with this man, the manner in which he’d been taken, snagged, and hurtled here meant he wouldn’t see his deity again. Kept within his memories, locked and corded off, would be the justification and measure the Voice couldn’t take – and maybe that was why the subtle grin remained on the Sword’s face. With a careful shrug, he simply responded with a low rumble, of things yet to come, but building all the time. “I think all of ours will be gods of war and blood soon enough.” As for not liking magic, perhaps the man wouldn’t care for Deimos’ next maneuver, and he only shook his head, snorting, as layers of gilded vestiges sprang between his fingers, and in no time at all, a wooden blade appeared. He handed it off to the older man, sheathing his and snagging at another training proportion from his bag. “Can you show me what you know first?” He inclined and gestured towards the target – permitting Darkeye to attack and assault it in whatever manner he pleased. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime