[SE] flying black star

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

There wasn’t much to describe, unfortunately, no matter how curious either of them were. “Hole in the ground. I turned over quite a bit of dirt, but there was nothing in it.” Which disturbed him all the more – because how could there not be any residue? Had it been on earlier theories – that someone else had picked apart the rubble? A first arrival? Or even then, how could something that large and massive simply dissipate and disappear? “I may send out more letters later and see if anyone else found something.” Or if there were more rumors of hoarding notions.

He arched a brow at her response, then instinctually rolled his eyes. “Your presence will be welcome, regardless,” and he meant it, given everything they’d gone through – moments where they were all permitted to be happy, content, and together had once seemed entirely out of reach. Now it was theirs for the taking.

DEIMOS

KIADA

Well, that’s concerning. A hole in the ground with nothing under it and nothing within it. Empty. Certainly there’d be something left behind, wouldn’t there? It’s a thought that sits uncomfortably in her gut, exhaling a soft sigh as she shakes out more rain from her umbrella, casting her iceberg gaze back up at him. “I’ll let you know if anything else is off here… Right now, though, the rain seems to be the main issue.” So dreary and cold and wet everywhere. She’s going to start needing rainboots to get from the house to the main road if only to not lose a precious shoe in the mud.

“We built a bonfire in the Inner Quarter. I don’t think it’s lit yet, but once it is you should come and see it.” She informs him with a soft twist of her lips. “I heard it’s supposed to make it better here for us Ancient when it’s cold.” A lucky thing for her, despite now having a house to go to.

Wedding plans, though, have her growing her childish playfulness only to soften as he tells her that her presence would be welcome regardless. And it’s a thought that has a soft laugh leaving her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She lets her arm slip around him, giving him a little half hug – the best she can do with her small frame versus the mountain of a man Deimos is.

am i more than you bargained for yet?

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

Nodding beneath the pelted umbrella, and concentrating on sending another round of droplets away, to twist and turn in the sky around them, his eyes eventually rounded back to the top of her head. Some sigh threatened another escape, for while the unknown was a constant beckoning thing, the strange alteration in so many forms left him pondering into other complexities.

A bonfire was far more enticing though, and his brows lifted for a moment at the promise of infernos. “Sounds delightful,” and he meant it, even if his deep rumble took on notes of sarcasm – they both knew his affinity for flames. “I did wonder how well most of you would do during Deepfrost,” besides homes and shelters kept alight most of the time. They couldn’t possibly be roaming too far into winter’s threshold. “Let me know when it is ready. I will likely be back and forth helping Noah anyway.” Hastening and moving a quest, and perhaps, a curse along.

The half-hug encouraged a press of his mouth against the crown of her head; warm intervals of affection rarely granted or given to anyone outside his tight and sequestered circle. “Thank you.”

DEIMOS

KIADA

“Oh, not great. I had to warm up in an actual fire.” She says it with a slight huff of a laugh. “Until Fox found me, at least.” But she trails off, because she realizes just how close that comes to precisely the way that she’d died already, and its with a thought that her head swivels back up toward the Sword. “We’re impervious to fire.” She explains of the Ancients, just in case she hasn’t said it before or he was unaware.

She honestly cant remember if she’s ever said anything before.

So, regardless, she flashes him a bright grin as he invites her to tell him when its done and she nods excitedly – a hint childishly. “Of course.” A brief pause as a thought occurs to her. “What is he doing, anyway? I don’t think I’ve seen him around helping with the bonfire.” Confusion flickers in her face that soon is melted away by the affection he shows, melting into the hug with ease to offer a nonverbal you’re welcome, tail curling around her leg to stay out of the rain.

am i more than you bargained for yet?

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

Hence his initial reaction to wondering why they hadn’t spent their time in the Climb or Torchline over the passing winter, but layered amidst the potential for shelter, and this newfound bonfire, perhaps they wouldn’t be under duress. And well, when the rain ever ceased.

Impervious to flames did notch something in his brain though, over news of her passing, of resurrections twice unfurled, of ways she managed to survive again and again. Swallowing down that particular track of trauma and bile, he nodded instead. “Noted. I wondered anyway,” what with Dygra’s theme seeming to be infernos and chaos.

He glanced upwards as more droplets scoured and flickered against his umbrella, purposefully pushing them off and watching as they ascended back into the sky for a brief moment. Noah being a topic of intrigue didn’t surprise him, not after motions and notions of relics across icy reaches, and it made sense that Kiada, inherently at least, wanted to understand his motions and agendas. Keeping her tucked close to him, and maneuvering slightly along the pathways, he could only shrug his shoulders. “We were repairing the barracks, and he said he had intentions of assisting with the infirmary. Probably the Temple as well. I mentioned farming might help, but,” he gestured out towards the constant monsoon. “He seemed hesitant to deal with anything involving Dygra, though I am not certain why.” Safrin had told them the Ancient goddess wasn’t a threat; waylaying any of the Sword’s own misgivings.

Suddenly smirking, because it was clearly an impending joke, he murmured into the cool damp air. "Maybe you can talk it over with him."

DEIMOS

KIADA

She doesn’t elaborate further than that – finding no need to explain the nuances of it. She couldn’t burn alive, that was the end all be all, and a point that she’s quite excited about all things considered, given how she’d perished once before. But those are traumas she doesn’t necessarily need to bring up for him to understand. He’d bore the trauma of her passing while she sat in a comfortable black silence for who knows how long.

Speaking of Noah was easier, though, as was the way he kept his arm around her to guide her through the walkways, keeping the rain from pelting the umbrellas too much. And she’s silent, a good listener while he explains what Noah’s been up to, until the latter half of the comment reaches her ears and she scoffs quite a loud and dramatic sound. “Of course he does.” She drawls, sarcasm dripping from her tone as she stares out in front of them with a surprising amount of frustration.

One that shifts to a squeal of unintelligible sounds at Deimos’ suggestion, whirling to him and smacking his chest with her forearm (not in a painful way, but a petulant child’s tantrum). “And say what exactly?”

am i more than you bargained for yet?

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

Glad to meander away from any topics about her death, he listened to the drawl and dryness of her sarcasm, granting it another flare with the hint of a grin. “I think he is wary,” because of the Voice and the Ascended, and his own belief system immersed into the helm. “But Safrin told us after the war that we had nothing to fear of Dygra,” so he could only shrug his shoulders. He had no ominous motive towards the chaotic goddess either, hoping the world wouldn’t shift in similar directions again.

But at the petulant smack he ceased, glancing downward at the pitiful strike with something akin to reticence – an unimpressed designation in the blunt edge of his brow. Only thereafter did she receive the hellish bent of humor press through once more, juvenile at best. “You do not like my suggestion?” The Sword had no idea if Kiada and Noah had even crossed paths again recently – it would’ve made sense given proximities, but maybe, given everything that occurred and curses borne, the Forsaken had made himself scarce. The teasing persisted regardless, loud and clear. “Discuss Dygra with him?”

DEIMOS

KIADA

“I haven’t gone to see her, but even those that have I haven’t heard of anything like what the Voice had asked of us.” She informs him, content to believe that maybe for once she did make a good choice. Although, her options were quite slim anyway. She could either remain as the robotic, fluid leaking Ascended, drifting away until she stopped working, or she could become this, where she could eat and enjoy food once again, even if it were at a cost of now and again going on hunts.

Regardless, she throws her little tantrum, settling back on her heels as she grips the umbrella tight to keep the rain from drenching her as she fixes him with a playfully harsh stare. His suggestion has her huffing out a sigh, softening around the edges ever so slightly. “Do you think it would even help? Besides, I’m pretty sure he still hates me from the Sea of Glass relic fight.” She turns away, kicking a piece of rubble on the street and listening as it clatters along the rain soaked street.

am i more than you bargained for yet?

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

Choices in gods had always been a prickly sentiment – and based on Kiada’s past experiences, ones that they meandered around in great difficulty. Perhaps, given everything up to this moment, it would be far easier with Dygra, and he was further relaxed into the notions with her sentiments coinciding. It wasn’t to say he wasn’t constantly on-guard, for he was on most matters, but this didn’t leave the twisting and turning apprehension the Voice always seemed to fester. So he nodded, content with the notions.

Though the inquiry thereafter made him laugh, uncertain on those ends. She could have her tantrum, and he’d bear it with the slightest amount of unimpressed reticence, but give in to the notions contorting through his head. “I think you are both different people now.” Changed and altered – Kiada, without any amount of Ascended fluid rampaging through her, not having to fight for her life in snagging relics, no need for the desperation that had bent and swayed so many of them. Noah, cursed and ashamed, with hordes more suffering dealt and vanquished, some self-inflicted. “But that is up to you.”

DEIMOS

KIADA

They were both content over Dygra not being a threat. It settles the anxiety that had consistently bloomed in her stomach since Helovia. A feat that had only been sated when she’d followed Ludo so long ago.

Either way, actually talking to Noah causes her to fidget her hands around the handle of the umbrella, gaze flickering away from him, out to the downpour of rain. “Maybe.” She exhales a sigh, reaching up to run a hand through her hair, pulling it back from the horns that eclipse her face. “He’s going to have to reach out first. I’m not going to seek him out.” She makes her boundaries clear. After all, her fight had been purely on survival. And had she not hidden away during the war, she likely would have succumbed just like everyone else she knew, had been close with.

am i more than you bargained for yet?

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

Choosing gods, when there’d been times when both of them had done neither, seemed to be a cause of many unsettled emotions; and while content in his decision, Kiada had a long sojourn through multitudes of worlds and deities. So he offered a small smile when the subject dropped and the trepidation simmered away with it, tipping his umbrella once more to permit more of the water to drain.

Discussions with Noah seemed to be more of a sticking point, and understandable, given experiences, animosity, and so much more hatred, blood, and condescension spilled when it had come to relics and the Ascended. It still pained him that Kiada had been in that wake, forced to be regarded in the same ilk as Wessex. But the war, and her own changes, had brought forth more than vague alterations, and he watched her twitch, sigh, and fidget around the apparatus, nodding at her boundary. “That is fine.” The Forsaken knew she was there – so it only lilted and haunted in potential and nothing more. “He has multitudes to be concerned about, anyway.” Pausing, he considered again, head tilting in that vague air of potential mischief. "Do you want me to mention it to him?"

DEIMOS

KIADA

She’s akin to a teenager right now, with the idea of being told what to do burning so vehemently against her that it’s the last thing she wants to do. Of course, she’s already drawn her boundary in the figurative sand mud and exhales quietly as she shakes more rain out, tugging him along with as they continue on the path, attention elsewhere but directly on him even if her ears take in every single thing he says.

“If you’d like.” She says, neither a no or a yes, simply a maybe if I come up in conversation you can, but she doesn’t want to seem like she’s desperate to talk with him. She still doesn’t even know what they’d talk about other than Kiada telling him that Dygra was fine. Either way, she doesn't seem to do much other than puff her way through the street, comically tugging Deimos along.

am i more than you bargained for yet?

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

Considering Deimos hadn’t given any instructions or demands, and was aware on those limits with Kiada anyway, he could watch with a keen eye and arched brow at the disgruntled expression. It was for her to decide regardless, and so his patience won out again as they maneuvered along puddled and mauled pathways, occasionally extending his incantations to hold up portions of earth along the trail.

If he’d like caused an abrupt snort, uncertain how the subject matter would ever escalate to those portions. She was more likely to wander into Noah’s presence at some random time, given how often the Forsaken would be hustling and bustling around the Grounds – but, since this was Kiada, perhaps the thought should’ve ended there. He could picture her actively avoiding the demigod.

Unbothered by her irritated stature, he raised his head to glance at the sky and the continued course of ridiculous weather. “Stormbreak informed us that Abandoned are allowed there now,” for a little piece of gossip, to see what would catch and hold away from every other portion.

DEIMOS

KIADA

And there are instances where the Harpy has, in fact, avoided Noah where she could – unless forced to partner with him as she had with the preventing the flooding rain water from damaging the Grounds. They’d said all of two words to each other, a polite hello and nothing more – actively avoiding each other in the face of everything they ended up dealing with. A small mercy, she thinks. She’s not sure if she’d want an audience if they were to talk.

But that’s neither here nor there as they splash their way along the path, glancing back over at him as the annoyance begins to roll off of her shoulders in waves, a dark brow rising curiously. “Really? Took them long enough.” She snorts, shaking the umbrella as she mulls it over. “There weren’t any riots in the streets over it?” She remembered the way the people of Stormbreak hated the Abandoned, wondering how that shift had come about.

am i more than you bargained for yet?