[ But if the man runs, will his deathly betters give chase?
One turn true, the next brokered. It has become, without their fixed knowledge but to their communal, quiet understanding, the great fairytale of one man against the odds. Archeval. His journey.
They will bear him on shoulders broad and deliver him, sword sharp and well-aimed to thrust once and well into Unhalad — and see the great, sprawling beast of their one-day nightmare felled. To this, they work: Beitang Moran, eerily readied. Lan Wangji, distantly hastened to drive his sword back, in another corpse's flesh.
He knows he must step away. Cannot bring himself to, gaze thawed when it walks Beitang Moran's face. ]
no subject
One turn true, the next brokered. It has become, without their fixed knowledge but to their communal, quiet understanding, the great fairytale of one man against the odds. Archeval. His journey.
They will bear him on shoulders broad and deliver him, sword sharp and well-aimed to thrust once and well into Unhalad — and see the great, sprawling beast of their one-day nightmare felled. To this, they work: Beitang Moran, eerily readied. Lan Wangji, distantly hastened to drive his sword back, in another corpse's flesh.
He knows he must step away. Cannot bring himself to, gaze thawed when it walks Beitang Moran's face. ]
Fall today, joss will burn at your altar.
[ As reassurances go, frail. ]