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I P O M O E A The Regent’s hesitation was clear; and with every second that passed, the pit in Ipomoea’s stomach continued to grow, lodging itself deeper, twisting into his gut. Wild as his imagination was, a whole host of scenarios began blossoming in his mind, from fires to war to stealths. He tried to quench it, tried to force himself to swallow past the lump in his throat, but his body—his mind—refused to listen and obey. Somnus closed his eyes, and Po held his breath, teeth held tightly together in a clenched jaw. ’When did I do that…’ ”I’ve just come from a meeting with Kasil… He has named me Sovereign in his stead.” The air escaped his lungs with a gasp, quiet and painful. The words hit him like a kick to the chest—not that he would know what it felt like exactly, having never been in a fight himself. But if he had to guess, he’d say it felt pretty close to this. ’Kasil… leaving?’ Somnus had to be mistaken… But Ipomoea could tell, from his tone and by his expression, that the Dawn Court’s Regent was serious. This was their reality. ”Kasil plans to leave Delumine behind, if he hasn’t already. I won’t speak for him in regards to why. He is my friend.” He snapped his jaw shut, uncertain of when he had let it hang open so wide, and swallowed painfully. ’Was he not my friend..?’ The next several of Somnus’ words fall on deaf ears as pain stabbed its way into the appaloosa’s heart, tears threatening to pool in his eyes. Kasil was leaving; and he was leaving without saying goodbye to Po. He felt his throat close, his naris flaring instinctively in an attempt to collect more air. But the Regent—the new Sovereign—wasn’t finished yet. “I would like for you to be my Regent, good Po.” “Me..?” His voice was little above a whisper, eyes wide in incredulity. Ipomoea had been surprised when Kasil had named him Emissary… was he even qualified to now take on the role of Regent? What had he done to cause these men to place so much of their faith in them? He was just Po, an orphan from Solterra, named after the morning glories of Veneror Peak. There was nothing special about himself or his lineage or his childhood. Scenarios and words flashed through his mind, a million ways and reasons to say no. But… he didn’t want to. It would make sense to keep his position; he was comfortable where he was, everyone told him he was doing well as an Emissary. He enjoyed the job, and the many hours of studying that might tire another horse simply enthralled him, captivated him even. But here, Somnus was offering him the possibility of something more. Did he even want more? A small whisper in the back of his mind chanted ’Yes!’ to his own chagrin. “…You honor me, Somnus.” He lifted his rosado eyes to the dunalino’s verde ones, willing the tears that threatened at the corners to dry themselves. “If you wish me to be your Regent, I will stand by you,” his voice was still hushed, yet determined: “Delumine is my home—I will never abandon our people, nor you, my King.” Sometimes, the rose colored boy could surprise even himself. Despite the sadness he felt—trying as he was to push it down, it kept rising back to the surface—a glint of jest lightened his eyes. “Who would have thought a couple of book worms might lead a country together?” Although the smile did not quite reach his lips, it was still something; a small bit of hope to offer his friend. |
neverrmind art
