I carried my own ashes to the mountains
The Sword thought often of his family; perhaps, in some part, because he knew how easily lost they all were. Lifetimes before, he would never have believed in second or third chances, in being capable of holding onto those people – which perhaps made him all the more protective or overbearing. But gods, some days he tried to see past the potential of ruin and merely along the intervals and layers of what they had now – which was why he didn’t bring up Ru’s imminent departure.
But it wasn’t his to tell, and so he shrouded and tied away and locked down everything else to savor these instances, even in the pouring rain.
His gaze meandered upwards, towards the cloudy and indignant sky, with a softer sigh in his chest and a bolstered snort for her response. “Perhaps the Grounds will be better too,” not that it would’ve been difficult, considering the wake of ruins they’d been placed within. And he hoped she’d be able to find a place for herself here, or wherever she deigned to traverse, root, and grow.
But it wasn’t his to tell, and so he shrouded and tied away and locked down everything else to savor these instances, even in the pouring rain.
His gaze meandered upwards, towards the cloudy and indignant sky, with a softer sigh in his chest and a bolstered snort for her response. “Perhaps the Grounds will be better too,” not that it would’ve been difficult, considering the wake of ruins they’d been placed within. And he hoped she’d be able to find a place for herself here, or wherever she deigned to traverse, root, and grow.
DEIMOS
