Seir had been quite surprised when the boy king had asked him to be the regent of Delumine but the emotion had never appeared on his face. The antlered man had simply nodded his head once more before he’d moved through the crowd and started towards the palace. It took only a moment or two before his emerald eyes stared down a long hallway, a sigh escaping him once more.
What had he gotten himself into this time?
Seir shakes his head at the thought, a good question indeed. The stallion has managed to avoid involving himself in society for a very, very long time but before then, he’d somehow always found himself in trouble. Whether it was watching kingdoms rise and fall or seeing great dynasties disappear from history, he'd somehow always found himself in the middle of it. After his last battle with strife, he’d remained hidden from danger and drama for centuries. And now, here he was again, serving under a boy king once more; it seemed history was destined to repeat itself.
~~~
This time however, Seir can’t help but know, somewhere deep down, that this painted lad is different. He hasn’t quite decided what it is that made him so, but he is determined to understand it. Perhaps it is his honesty, or the air of kindness that seems to radiate from him but there is also something else…
Turning, the chestnut man stares out into the courtyard where the sun has begun rising on the horizon, bathing the citizens in golden light. It is very fitting for such an occasion, and a ghost of a smile appears on those quiet lips at the sight.
As the ageless being stands silently, his head held high, those verdant eyes set upon the sky, he can't help but know there is nothing that will keep him from this. Seir owes this young royal his loyalty and his council, he wishes for this kingdom to grow and thrive. The issues present in the Viride were clear to him and now he has the chance to perserve what he loves most.
~~~
There is a problem though, this boy knows what he is… and that is an entirely different issue he is planning to discuss with Ipomoea as soon as he walks through that doorway.
The eira are secret, ghosts of the forest, whispers on the breeze and he isn’t sure it is time to reveal themselves to the world...
Is he the one to make that decision?
He isn’t sure when he stopped carrying the songbird around with him. It sits on the windowsill now, a once-favorite spot of Odet’s, bathed in the light streaming in through the opened window. Its dappled in green and gold, rosettes of color that move gently back and forth each time the trees outside sigh.
Ipomoea studies the statue now, his eyes paying close attention to each perfectly carved feather. Once he had watched it religiously, waiting for an eye to blink or a wing to twitch. Once he had been hopeful each morning, expecting to wake up and see his bonded waiting on his perch for him.
Now he rarely bothered to glance in the roost’s direction, because he already knew it would be empty.
Slowly, gently, he pushes the small statue until it gazes out over the courtyard with eyes that no longer see. In the right light it almost looked like the songbird was simply resting, pausing for only a moment before taking flight once more. There was a slight bend in his legs, like he was preparing to jump up into the air, his wings raised subtly at the shoulders, beak lifted skyward. As the days continued to pass, as more and more time spun into place between that last spring and now, Ipomoea becomes more certain that that leap will never come.
Footsteps against the marble floor bring him out of his reverie. He lifts his head in time to see the antlered man stepping through the door, and a smile instinctively welcomes him.
“Seir. Come in, come in,” he murmurs, and without looking back at the small stone statue, he turns to greet the man. Even now he still was not sure what had made him choose this stranger - just as he still was not sure what had made the stranger choose to say yes. But neither did the thought worry him. “We have much to talk about.”
There are questions buzzing in his mind, begging to be asked - but for now, he holds them at bay. At the large walnut desk he pours two glasses of water and then, while drinking from one, offers the other to the chestnut.
“How are you? Settling in well enough, I hope?” His smile, while warm, does not quite reach his eyes.
@Seir i was replying to a completely different thread and then this happened
”here am i!“
The antlered man was walking down the hall as soon as the crowd dispersed. Seir asks a servant where he can find their sovereign and he finds himself much deeper in the palace as he searches for Ipomoea.
The sound of his cloven hooves clopping on the marble floor is a lonely echo. This place seems so quiet… almost as if it had fallen into a deep slumber. How long had Delumine been in this state? Should he have come here much sooner? Has he been ignorant to the nation’s struggles that had just began leaking into the forest?
~~~
Seir sighs as he approaches the doorway and his emerald eyes fall upon the boy king. "Seir. Come in, come in.”
The stallion’s antlered crown dips for a moment, a significant movement for Seir, a sign of respect for the boy, as the young man’s words reach him. "We have much to talk about.”
They did have much to discuss, especially the state of their kingdom as a whole.
When Ipomoea offers him a glass of water, he accepts it and takes a sip, not wanting to offend the king.
"How are you? Settling in well enough, I hope?”
The flower child asks with a seeming forced smile; Seir’s ageless eyes do not miss it, but he chooses to ignore what he has no say in, and for the first time in a very long time, he speaks. “It’s much different from the forest,” he simply states, his own voice sounds foreign to him, quiet but strong. How long had it been since he’s spoken? Years? “But I’ve lived in many places such as this, I should settle in time,” Seir comments to Ipomoea but also as a reassurance to himself. It has been centuries since he’s left the woods and yes, he misses it, of course, but he now has a duty to their kingdom.
“Tell me child, what ails Delumine?” the godling asks, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he ponders the question himself. He does not mean to offend the boy for calling him young but compared to Seir’s long life, there just isn’t a word more fitting.
Of course he would never call the sovereign such a thing in front of an audience but here, he simply does not think of it.
~~~
Tags: @Ipomoea
OOC: Sorry, this feels so awkward lol
The man standing before him was one of few words - but his eyes spoke for him. Seir was quiet in a way that was fitting for a scholar of Dawn. But it was not the sleepy, disenchanted way the rest of the Court had seemed since his return.
Seir’s quiet was like the quiet of the trees, the space between birdsongs. And the pale golden glow he carried upon one antler felt like he was bringing the forest into the citadel with him, like the dapples on his back had been wrought from the sun streaming through the leaves. And the miniature sun trapped in his lantern brought light to the entire room.
“That it is,” he murmured in response. He could see the forest from the windows - it was never far, although here in the Court it could often feel far removed - it was there now, waiting for him. He wondered how many unicorns were wandering its twisted paths, and how many of them left a dark trail behind them.
“Let me know if you need anything, you have only to ask.” He lifts his head slightly, turning back to the other stallion.
Tell me child, what ails Delumine? Ipomoea sighs, setting his glass back down on the desk. “I wish there was an easy answer,” he says softly, meeting Seir’s gaze. “To most of Novus, Delumine seems perfectly fine, and the quiet is easy to write off as our studious nature.” At this he laughs, and the sound is soft and choking, a sob disguised by humor. Inside his heart is shaking like a leaf hanging on to the end of its branch, left behind by all the other leaves that have already been blown off.
“But they weren’t always this way. To me this kind of quiet sounds more like death than anything else. Like the joy and excitement that gives us reason for being here has all but vanished.”
He stops abruptly, glancing quickly back at his new Regent. “Some might call me crazy or say I’m imagining it.” But he lifts his chin higher, and there’s a hard edge to his bright cherry eyes.
As if he’s daring the other stallion to agree with him, or begging him to not.
The stallion’s eyes move towards the window and he loses himself for a moment in the beauty beyond the capitol. The fog had lifted and the brilliance of Delumine became clear to him. The vast forest goes on an on, reaching towards the horizon and his heart ached for the home he’d left behind. Somewhere far north, the Viride sits, quiet and undisturbed, the massive trees whispering their secrets to a whimsical breeze.
Seir sighs as the boy’s words reach him, pulling him from the depths of his own mind. “That it is.”
Ipomoea states, his eyes also focusing on the trees out the windows as he had just moments before. “Let me know if you need anything, you have only to ask.”
The king continues, his crimson gaze returning to reality and to Seir. The ageless creature only nods in thanks, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his maw.
“I wish there was an easy answer.”
The painted royal speaks again, his voice withdrawn, gentle and quiet as he looks directly at Seir. Seir tilts his head as the youngling continues. "To most of Novus, Delumine seems perfectly fine, and the quiet is easy to write off as our studious nature.”
Seir nods slowly as the other stallion begins laughing, the older beast narrows his eyes for a moment, trying to understand this outburst. He can only assume the king wishes to hide his sorrow behind laughter? For he knows Ipomoea would never make light of such things.
“But they weren’t always this way. To me this kind of quiet sounds more like death than anything else. Like the joy and excitement that gives us reason for being here has all but vanished.”
The immortal’s emerald eyes brighten at the statement and he nods, his agreement clear. “Some might call me crazy or say I’m imagining it.”
The antlered beast simply shakes his head at this and anguish fills his heart as he directs his knowledge towards the Sovereign.
“You do not imagine these things,” Seir admits, his voice laced with a soft kindness, reassurance for the boy king. “I have felt these things, it has leaked into the forest,” the flaxen man explains quietly. “The trees have grown quiet and stilled. It was then that I realized that there was something very wrong,” he pauses for a moment, considering his next words. “It is the reason why I travelled here, it is why I want to help you,” Seir admits, his voice clear and full of nothing but honesty.
It was true, they needed to do something. The dullness that had settled over their kingdom was frightening and he fears what could come of it. “I have seen kingdoms wither away into nothing because they ignored such things” the godling points out as he recalls those faraway places.
“You are very wise to realize the importance of this and we must act, we must bring life back into Delumine or it will disappear like fog in the morning sun,” Seir concludes, his verdant eyes settling on the boy king once more, his expression tender. There was nothing he wanted more than to help this fledgling royal, to bring more to Dawn and redefine their culture. “How do you wish to act first?” the immortal asks, his head tilting once more, eyes twinkling as he considers the many possibilities.
It’s the most words Ipomoea has heard the antlered man speak at once - more words than he had expected, if he was being honest with himself - and he smiles because of it. Seir’s words are soft and honest, and although Ipomoea has learned in recent months to question what others say, he can’t help but nod his head along. He wants to believe Seir, and the regent’s gentle demeanor gives him no reason to not.
”I am glad you’ve come then,” he says, meeting the stallion’s verdant gaze. Eyes that are green like the forest; green like Somnus’; green like spring.
In a Court that was filled with forests and meadows, there never was enough green. Especially now, with winter setting in and all the landscape looking grey each morning when he looked outside his window.
Ipomoea breathes a sigh, rubbing his temple against the window sill. “You have far more experience than I,” he said at last, his voice soft. The stallion would outlive them all he believed, his life would surpass the entire court. Another time, when he had a moment to himself, Ipomoea would wonder how many worlds Seir had seen before, how many lives he had lived - and why he had chosen here, and now, and him. But now he can only ponder the chestnuts question, and his heart trembles at the way the words seem to cut through his very soul.
A thousand possibilities have been running through his mind since his return, since Somnus passed on his crown to him. Ipomoea can see the Court so clearly now, as if his time away has sharpened his senses to it.
And the way he sees it is as a flower - nearly ready to bloom, but with the odds stacked against it. It needed more sun, and water, and nourishment, and care, it needed a gardener’s instinct. But with so many things that it needed, how could he know where to start? He was still just a boy, and until recently had lacked any sort of experience or qualification. Ipomoea shakes his head slowly, but the frown that stretches across his features is more contemplative than sour.
“Delumine needs something to rouse it back to action, to liveliness. I had hoped the war our east would have provoked some sort of response - I should be thankful the fighting never reached our borders, but our citizens did not even seem concerned about that possibility. I don’t know how to make them see that, I don’t know how to show them -“ His voice falters. I don’t know how, his heart is beating like a wild thing in his chest again. He swallows thickly, and fixes his new regent with his cherry gaze.
“How do you think we should proceed, Seir?”
Ipomoea is still just a boy, trying so hard to be a king.
What was he to do when he could see the king before him almost wither away in confusion and despair. Seir knew how bad it was but he hadn’t considered the toll it was taking on the boy.
”I am glad you’ve come then.”
Seir can’t help but feel for this young man, this boy was what trying so hard to save the home he loved. Oh how he related to this boy, how he felt the weight of their dying realm upon his own shoulders. A sad smile crosses his lips as he continues to listen to Ipomoea.
“You have far more experience than I.”
Perhaps this was true but it didn’t invalidate the painted stallion’s thoughts, experiences and ideas for their realm. It simply meant Seir had lived longer, it didn’t mean anything else. Yes, he’d seen many things, many terrors and joys. He’d seen life come and go, he’d seen creatures thrive only to wither away and be blown away by a cold wind. Life was hard, it really was, and he’d lived enough lives to understand this.
Delumine needs something to rouse it back to action, to liveliness. I had hoped the war out east would have provoked some sort of response - I should be thankful the fighting never reached our borders, but our citizens did not even seem concerned about that possibility. I don’t know how to make them see that, I don’t know how to show them -
Seir’s eyes widen at the boy’s words, how did he respond to such a thing?
How do you think we should proceed, Seir?
For once in a long, long time, the ancient creature didn’t immediately have an answer and a silence settled over him as he receded into the depths of his own mind.
How did they go from here? Did the people need something chaotic to happen? Did they need to be awakened somehow? Really he didn’t have an answer right now.
Though you might assume so, war doesn’t always frighten the masses, the man contemplates out loud, to himself and to the other being. For citizens like those of Delumine, such things might just cast them further into the abyss of numbness. It seems they are unreactive to the world around them, Seir says, his head tilting with his words.
Ipomoea, admittedly, I do not have an answer for you at this very moment, the godling says, his words distant as he continues to search every possibility. However, I will be reading and searching for something to help our cause and of course, I will be right here at your side to encourage and give advice where I can.
Child, you cannot carry this burden alone, you will be crushed under the weight of it. That is why I am here, that is why I chose you. You are willing to take the brunt of it and that is why I think of you as a very, very worthy king and friend, the antlered stallion explains with a small smile and in another show of respect, bows deeply to the boy king.
Age didn’t mean a thing when you had a heart as big as Ipomoea. Seir had no doubt that the young royal could carry them from this stagnant state and on, towards a brighter future.
~~~
”Speaking.”
~~~
OOC: I thought about his answer for days, apparently I am not smart enough for Seir.
Tags: @Ipomoea
He lifts his chin as the chestnut begins to speak, a subtle shift that changes his entire demeanor, if only slightly. Something about his eyes harden, a glint of determination hiding in the shadows.
He was not expecting an easy answer. It had never been a possibility, not when he had already crossed a world and found nothing but a tangled pathway that eventually led back to where he had started. Ipomoea knew now that there was nothing quick about changing history; Raum’s dictatorship had taught him that. Change was always brimming just below the surface, sometimes wild, sometimes demure, but always present. The trick was in guiding that change.
Past rulers had let that change go by unnoticed in Delumine, had allowed it to take root among the citizens until they were wrapped within its vice-like grip. It had taken leaving for him to see that, to see the way the rest of the world continued to learn and grow while his own home appeared to regress, to grow in upon itself instead of out.
He had never planned to pave the way alone - Ipomoea would never be a ruler who distanced himself from his people, who asked them to go without going along beside them.
“That is all I ask,” he says, as softly as the sound of leaves falling in the forest.
The more eyes he had, the more minds who sought out the solution, the more likely they were to find one. Seir was a part of the land, a part of Delumine in a way Ipomoea was not. He was grounding, in a way that was comforting and strengthening. He was what Ipomoea needed by his side.
And as much as Seir might try to downplay his experience, it was experience that Ipomoea needed most, experience that had prompted him to choose the antlered man.
He can’t help but fidget as the newly-made Regent bows before him, inclining his head in a silent sign of gratitude. Senna’s words came to him then, unprompted and unwelcome. If you really wanted to help us -
What the red man hadn’t known then, perhaps still did not know, was the ember that had been struck over Ipomoea the moment he had chosen to leave his home, the slowly-smoldering fires that now filled his chest. What Senna did not know was that Ipomoea was willing - to kill a king, to lay down his life, to be the spark. It had never been about himself.
It had been about the people.
“We have much to get started on,” he says, and at last he comes forward to press his muzzle against the stallion’s side. ”Are you well acquainted with the library out in Viride?” Sunlight is streaming in through the window, anointing the two of them with golden halos, limning them in light. Ipomoea smiles, and turns his head to the door.
“Thankfully, we are in the perfect place to find the answer, if such a thing exists.”
Where better to start to search for it than within Delumine, where there was never a shortage of study materials?
There was little emotion on the godling’s face as he observed the boy king for a moment. “That is all I ask.”
Seir knew he could be a pillar of wisdom and strength for not only Ipomoea but the entire kingdom of Delumine.
Did he really want this responsibility again? Did he want to become close to these equines only to watch them age and die like he had so many times before?
His heart sank in his chest at the thought and those verdant eyes soften as they remain fixed on the young royal.
“We have much to get started on.”
Ipomoea says after a few moments of silent thought and a small smile appears on Seir’s lips as the younger stallion brushes his nose against him. ”Are you well acquainted with the library out in Viride?”
The antlered creature nearly laughed at the question but he remained as stoic as ever.
“Yes, I am very familiar,” the ancient being explains, there is no humor or judgement in his tone, only understanding and kindness. “However, I have not been to the library in quite some time,” the chestnut says, more to himself than the red eyed boy.
“Thankfully, we are in the perfect place to find the answer, if such a thing exists.”
The young god nods in agreement, that rare smile appearing once again. Really, he hadn’t smiled so much in decades and of course, he had to give the credit to his new companion, his new friend.
“With knowledge, we can change the world,” Seir says, his emerald eyes glazing over at the words. There was so much truth to that statement and it is what sets Delumine apart, it is what made them special. It was time for the rest of the world to be reminded of that fact once more.
The stallion’s eyes glide to Ipomoea once more as he prepares to speak again. “They will know who we are again, there is nothing more powerful than what we have.”
With those words, it seemed that a phantom breeze rushed through the window and over his skin, it carried the aroma of the woods, as deep and ancient as he. Perhaps he only imagined it or perhaps the forest was ready to be awakened once more.
He turns to the chestnut, and for half a heartbeat their eyes meet and the entire castle around them seems to sigh. Ipomoea can see the green of an ivy vine curling in through the open window from the corner of his eye, a stray wind tousling its leaves until it looks like its waving at him. And something about it seems like a good sign to him - like the earth itself is content around Seir, like the plants growing on the castle walls are as comfortable with the newly-made regent as they are with the king who tends to them.
Ipomoea smiles, and holds the door to the hallway open for him.
”Allow me to walk with you there, then,” he says, and pretends to not struggle with making it a command rather than a question. ”And on the way I can tell you a little more about Novus’ current state of affairs.”
And he hopes, selfishly, fervently, that the trees will be green and bright and that the birds of the forest will be singing instead of silent. The Court has been far too still for his liking since his arrival back to Delumine; but something about the ivy creeping in through the window makes it seem like at least one, small part of it is coming back awake.