S O M N U S
"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"
The shadow does not leave him wanting. A smile is cast in his direction, but Somnus does not miss the weariness of his expression, nor the fatigue that seems to drape about his shoulders like a mantle. This fellow is far more busy than he himself, Somnus realizes with a touch of trepidation. Perhaps there is /more/ that he can do for his new Court, if given the chance... The gilded tactician, however, does not utter a single word in regards to it, for it is far from his place. Instead, he simply meets the smooth bay stallion's gaze, holding it within curious verdant depths, questioning and reserved.
Then, the winged stallion speaks. Dulcet tones express gratitude in their greeting, and once more, Somnus dips his head in acquiescence, in agreement, for the feeling is greatly reciprocated. He would always take pleasure in meeting those of his new home, of his new kin. Dark lips remain shut, however, expression thoughtfully neutral, and it is only upon this stranger's revelation of his name that Somnus better understands his words, that every piece of the puzzle finally slide smoothly into place.
Kasil. The Dawn King. The Sovereign of Delumine. How ironic, then, that they meet beneath the cover of pale moonlight and a shower of glimmering stars.
"Ah," Somnus says at last, composed and placid,
"Kasil. Yes." He knew of Kasil. Charlemagne had spoken the Sovereign's name in their first meeting, albeit shyly, but while he knew
of Kasil, the dunalino gentleman did not know
him.
"If I may be so bold... I am quite familiar with what you are, Sire, but I fear that I do not know who you are." The statement was accompanied with a slight upwards quirk of dark lips, Somnus' intuitive emerald eyes glittering in the pale moonlight as he stared forthright into the Dawn Lord's mahogany depths.
Yes, he knew of Kasil, to a degree. The stallion was
King, they all had to know of him... But the tactician did not know
him. Somnus did not know what
drove Kasil forward. He did not know his deepest fears, his greatest passions, his most personal beliefs. What spurred him on? What drove his desires? What pushed him onward, striving to be the best Sovereign that he could be for his people? These were the questions that Somnus so desperately wanted to know, for how could he serve a King to the best of his abilities
without it?
Then, almost apologetically, Somnus dips his head in composed respect, verdant eyes sliding shut as strands of pale mane fall about his face.
"Forgive my forthright audacity, Majesty, but one day, I do hope to know you, and not simply the title you respectively hold."
