DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Those unsaid layers still immersed in the boundaries of bonds, and he gave a slight, lopsided grin at the gesture; because very rarely had he ever taken the means to protect himself. But there were days where he’d realized if he was marred and wounded, broken and lacerated, others would continually be at a higher risk, and maybe it was the only rationale he could barter with to ensure those sanctities and shelters. If only for a little while. The silence lingered in its stead, entangled with a piece and portion of gratitude.
He didn’t ask her about the war or where she’d be within it. Not yet.
Besides, there were multitudes of lightning and brambles of power to watch and tease, flickering the scale this way and that with the coming of tempests, and even with the challenge, the goading behind it, Deimos was content to watch Ru’s multitudes come to life. It descended in rapid pace, surrounding and conforming to the sliver of leviathan with ample prestige, prowess, and might, sizzling, sparking, until it was engulfed in mid-air, swallowed and consumed by pinnacles of light and danger. Adding nothing to it, he merely grinned as incantation after incantation wound its way through, and in the end, with everything had dispersed, the scale was no less tarnished.
“You do,” he uttered in agreement, hand lifting to snag at the future folds of armor as it meandered back to him. “Thank you. It should be.” His eyes went towards her makeshift rock pile, and the birds (presuming they hadn’t been scattered or hastened off in the light show) who’d brought forth others. “What about you?”
He didn’t ask her about the war or where she’d be within it. Not yet.
Besides, there were multitudes of lightning and brambles of power to watch and tease, flickering the scale this way and that with the coming of tempests, and even with the challenge, the goading behind it, Deimos was content to watch Ru’s multitudes come to life. It descended in rapid pace, surrounding and conforming to the sliver of leviathan with ample prestige, prowess, and might, sizzling, sparking, until it was engulfed in mid-air, swallowed and consumed by pinnacles of light and danger. Adding nothing to it, he merely grinned as incantation after incantation wound its way through, and in the end, with everything had dispersed, the scale was no less tarnished.
“You do,” he uttered in agreement, hand lifting to snag at the future folds of armor as it meandered back to him. “Thank you. It should be.” His eyes went towards her makeshift rock pile, and the birds (presuming they hadn’t been scattered or hastened off in the light show) who’d brought forth others. “What about you?”
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
