The sun penetrates the deep open ocean, illuminating the soles of March’s feet. Beneath the waves March walks away from the battle field. The expression on the colossus’ face reads as indifferent towards another sweeping victory. The cannonfire of February’s retaliation was silenced. Now all that could be heard was the churning of waves that overtook the sinking armada. From the wreckage, legionaries of March accompany him by his side and show him what seems to be a gift: crimson, brilliant, and beating, glowing like a ruby. A bright light shines from the surface onto March’s face and he is stricken with a sense of familiarity that leaves you like the memory of a dream fleeting upon waking. The familiarity of March rising from the depths like plumes of oxygen from the bottom of the sea.

 

From that familiarity, March had returned from an abyss. In his right hand the grip of his sword, and in the left a trophy. The beak of yet another Kraken. March surfaced to the night and the unexpected light of the moon. As the Moon descended from above to the surface of the waves. The light touched March’s face like a pearl does inside of an oyster. There she was, the Moon brilliantly floating just meters above the clapping of the waves of the night. 

 

“My Moon, I welcome thee, but I was not expecting your visit. What brings you to my domain of the seas.” March’s voice bellowed.

 

“March, my loyal hand of judgment. I approach you with the request to bring judgment upon February whom in a torrent of jealousy wrongfully consumed January like prey.”

 

“My Moon, innocent hearts float to the surface, however those that are guilty become heavy and sink to the abyss of my seas. But the only way to know is to cease that heart. However, there is nothing more unjust than bringing an end to another. In my loyalty for you my Moon I have already slain one thousand abominations, and stepped down from your first. I draw the line here. I will not let my heart slip into darkness as December so willingly has.”

 

“March, do not be mistaken, my will, loyalty to me, and justice are one in the same.”

 

The giant became still and behind his blindfold his eyes began to rapidly move and illuminate. His many minds simulated thousands of actions of February's judgment.

“My Moon, February, may somehow be just in his actions. I must turn away from this request.”

​

Before March could fully draw away from the moon’s presence she turned him around. The soft halo of light from the moon was now enveloped by darkness. The silhouette of the moon became darkness, and within that darkness neon artifacts penetrated the eyes of march like nails.  

 

All March could recall was a brilliant light. He looks up from the legionnaires with a purpose in his eyes, light peeking through a seam of his arcane blindfold now as good as loose headwear. March casts the gift aside as it floats to the surface. March says, 

“I do not need to be encumbered by the spoils of war. My legions, ever fervent war to thee. We must assist the moon.” 

 

March continues to tread towards the abyss.