"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"
Night had fallen.
The air was warm but not uncomfortably so, a balmy evening in the midst of summer and lacking the grueling bite that came with the sun. Stars twinkled in the dark skies up above the land, beckoning like sirens in the depths of the oceans, shining brightly amidst the Moon and her companions. Beacons, they were, guiding lights for the lost souls who hoped, so desperately, to find their way. Perhaps one day they would.
For Somnus, however, sleep had not come. It eluded him, the fickle mistress, dancing forevermore out of his grasp just as he was about to grab tight to it, eyelids heavy with bodily exhaustion but his mind rapt and vigilant, yearning for some form of competitive quandary. The golden tactician yearned for a good debate, for an equal match of wits and wills that would put his brilliant mind to the test, and allow him at last to settle down with a peacefully clear head. Complacency and stagnancy ruined a man like him, and with so little going on during the day, his mind ran like hell during the night and simply would not stop. It was maddening, overwhelming, thoughts, scenarios, plans, and schedules running over and over in his head before either exhaustion would grab hold and sleep would take him, or he would concede the battle and go wandering.
On this pleasant night, wandering was what Somnus found himself doing. Through the winding halls of the Court did he venture, his steps light but sure, confident with every stride in this impressive construct of talented masonry and amber wings furled close to his body, as so not to knock into anything. It seemed that every new hall brought new discoveries, but he was not treasure hunting. No. Tonight, the young gentleman had one destination in mind, and that was the courtyard, where he could stare up at the heavens and map the stars with his eyes, just as he had done since the days of his youth.
As he made his way through the halls, cream-kissed hooves rasping against the ground with every step he took, Somnus took to humming that same, nondescript song from his colt-hood, fully expecting to be the sole sufferer of insomnia on such a night.
If there was one thing that Kasil appreciated the night for, it was the utter stillness that the darkness wrapped the realm with. Like a child swathed in warm blankets, the realm was forced to stillness -- the summer night crooning a song that beckoned the creatures to sleep. The dark colored stallion was nearly invisible in the night, the moonlight not strong enough to cause the gold adornments in his hair to shimmer as they did during the day. He had been spending the night in the library -- reading as he often did, but found that the sentences were beginning to entangle themselves like vines. A breath of fresh air, he told himself, perhaps a quick walk around the citadel in order to wake himself a little more.
The courtyard was a natural choice for such a thing; the open air ceiling letting in all the atmosphere of the summer night without giving up his privacy. And yet, it seemed that he was not alone. The whispers of a song reached him, merely a hum given life by another. The stag lifted his head, audits swivelling in the direction of the sound as a golden stallion joined him. A wash of unease went over him, the stag unfamiliar despite the abundance of markings that would have set him apart from others. Sporting a pair of amber wings and a dark colored horn amidst a white blaze -- he would have certainly been remembered.
The Sovereign drew up to his full height, unsure of the intentions of this stranger -- clearing his throat in order to gain his attention. ”Hello there.” Kasil said slowly, his dark gaze sharp in the night. He moved more towards the center of the courtyard, away from the darker fringe. He was built tall and strong, his ancestry a mix of breeds but most notably the thoroughbred and warmblood type. ”I see that I am not the only one in this Court unable to sleep.” He kept his tone friendly, if a little reserved. He had no idea if this stallion could be considered a friend or not, warned by his advisors that there were whispers of death threats already.
A price to pay for being a Sovereign, he supposed. He never would be truly safe from everything. ”Just who might you be, my friend?”
"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"
Since his recent arrival into the Dawn Court, the halls had been oddly quiet. Perhaps it was due to his own tendency to withdraw himself from the loud and boisterous that he missed the present going-ons, preferring solitude and thoughtful silence, but he had anticipated some form of livelihood beneath the towering citadels and impressive masonry that made up the Capitol of Delumine. Yet, there seemed to be nothing of the sorts. The halls were silent whenever he passed, the rooms barren of souls and aired out, courtyard void of life and still as the world around them seemed to carry on. It was not anything new to wander and not encounter another soul, especially so late in the evening.
It was that very reason alone that he did not expect to encounter another. A beckoning call, a formal, softly spoken greeting is what he receives in the darkness of the courtyard beneath the pale moon and shimmering stars.
The song upon Somnus' lips dies in his throat as intuitive verdant eyes seek out the speaker who has interrupted the solitude of his venture. The golden tactician stops, rich amber feathers fluttering upon pale flaxen sides as he straightens to his full height, posture erect and collected, ears forward and at attention, piercing gaze raking up the dark one's form and watching as he pulls himself from the shadows, like a wraith wearing a smile. Somnus does not know him. The realization is instant. This shadow is a stranger in his mind, but his eyes, perceptive, visceral, see the stallion for what he is; of a greater height than the tactician's own stature, he is lean with flexible muscle, a smooth, rich bay that nearly appeared black beneath the moon's weak glow. Dark, proud, strong wings grace his shoulders, collected with an elegance and control of a gentleman.
It is only then that the tactician dips his head, onyx crown lowering in a dipping nod to acknowledge the shadow's arrival
He thinks of Charlemagne, the chestnut gentleman who had been the first, and only, to greet him to the Court in this very courtyard. He thinks of how, in a rather foolish move, much to his embarrassment, he had assumed that the horned stallion had been the Dawn Lord. Charlemagne, the blessed, good sir that he was, had only laughed off his inquiry and stated that no, he was mistaken. Oh, did he wonder now, but Somnus had learnt his lesson well, and would rather not have a repeat venture of sticking his own hoof in his mouth.
The shadow's words cause a polite, reserved sort of smile to grace the dunalino's dark lips, eyes crinkling slightly at the good nature of his tone. "It most certainly appears so," he began politely, the elegant lilt to his accent easy to acknowledge the truth that he was not native to Novus. It was all too easy to fall back into old habits of his days as a chamberlain, his tongue remembering well the art of diplomacy and speaking to delegates, emissaries, and those of far more noble of birth than himself. Never had Somnus been more grateful for the servitude he had paid in Vhallen than he was now.
Silence once more lapsed between them, and the dunalino allowed an insightful verdant gaze to stay rooted upon the rich bay male. His inquiry was an honest one, spoken with nothing but genuine desire to know, and Somnus could not belittle him for that.
"I am Somnus, good sir," he answered politely, evenly, his words direct and to the point, as he was not a creature to waylay information or 'beat around the bush', as it were, "Sage to the Dawn Court proper. And you are?"
@Kasil
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
He was somehow always surprised at how many individuals seemed to be struck by him, one who had always seemed to himself as lowly and common. He supposed his breeding lended a certain air of regality, but Kasil hardly considered himself in such a manner. The Dawn King turned his attention to the greenery of the courtyard, the place starting to take shape after such a long period of disarray and disrepair. Things were still unsightly in places, but every day it appeared less and less. Despite his initial wariness, the stallion could not bring himself to stay guarded for long. He was quite capable of holding his own, confident in his own ability to defend himself from the likes of an other. That did not, however, keep his eyes from wandering the courtyard as if there might be more than just the golden stallion hidden in the shadows.
He noticed the difference of accent in the stag from the moment he opened his mouth, causing his ears to swivel in his direction with interest. The blunt end of his tail swished against his hinds, as the silence lapsed between them -- until the stranger broke it once more. Somnus Kasil thought. An interesting name that he had not heard before, although he supposed there were many names that he had not heard before. Dawn Court was an entirely different creature from the one that he had known as a young stallion, and many of those that he had known in his youth were gone. Scattered to the ends of the earth like seeds in the wind. The bay stallion let his eyes fall closed, just one indication of his weary soul. Aside from his mother and a handful of others, he was surrounded by strangers and the like.
He forced a smile to his lips as he turned his crown back towards Somnus. ”It is good to meet you, Somnus.” Kasil said lightly, opening his gaze to meet the dunalino in entirety. ”Our sages are very important to us. You do us all a service,” He gave a little nod, feeling the sinewy twist of the muscles attached at his shoulders. ”Forgive me, I’m Kasil. Sovereign to Delumine.”
"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."
@Kasil
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
The stallion’s words troubled him, as little else had done before. Kasil drew himself up, in the same way that he had done with Kaladin who had spoken out so candidly -- though his expression was one more of intrigue rather than a carefully guarded offense. His dark gaze met the other stallion’s emerald one, the dark pools guarding more secrets than he dared to ever tell. ”Hm.” He mused, his lips pressing into a firm line. He looked very grave, as if the stranger had reminded him of something that he had only just been musing about. ”I can’t say that anyone does. Not really.” His ears pulled back, flattening against the dark bed of his hair.
The moonlight stuttered as a cloud passed overhead, darkening the courtyard even further as if Caligo knew of the dark turn this conversation was taking. He cast his eyes up for a brief moment, before turning back to the courtyard. It was mostly plain, a scattering of plant life -- particularly roses growing in the beds. White stone made the path, though there were a few that were cracked and broken and in need of repair. ”Perhaps one day you might know something of me.” He said finally, raising his brows. ”There are things a king does not ever reveal, even if it sends him to an early grave. We must play a role on a stage -- and that leaves very little time for anyone to know anything but that role.” The Sovereign cleared his throat.
”Somnus, never fear to question me. I’ll need it, if I am to rule well.” He murmured, reaching out to brush one of the summer blooming roses. The stallion had closed his eyes and bent his head, but Kasil did not want his fear. He only needed his enemies to fear him -- not those that he was duty bound to protect and serve.
eee sorry this took so long to get to you! And is so smol :C
There was no missing the change in the sovereign's expression. Kasil straightened his posture, standing at attention, ever regal, always alert. Ears back, brows furrowed, the deep dark pools of his eyes glinting in the moonlight and their gaze met. Somnus did not cower beneath the younger stallion's troubled scrutiny, did not balk, nor did he avert his eyes. Inquisitive emerald remain steady, staring, watching, waiting for the Dawn King's next chosen movement, for his next chosen word. The golden tactician was never one to back down, never one to bow out, and this would prove to be no difference, in the presence of Kings or not.
Kasil's following words held a somber tone, and a pang of regret arose in Somnus' golden breast. He had not meant to bestow uncertainty upon his sovereign's shoulders, a mantle that was already so dreadfully heavy. He did not mean to trouble him, to press for inquiries, to add to his surely tumultuous stresses that he handled with poise and dignity upon every passing day. Still... It was in Somnus' nature to question, to implore. To offer advice, to do what he could. After all, his prowess was his silver tongue. He was no warrior. Not in body, at least.
His words held a wisdom that belittled his years. Indeed. It would be foolish for Kasil to wear himself on his sleeve, to allow friends and foes alike to truly get to know him, to see what he was all about, to know his strengths, his weaknesses, and ultimately judge him for it.
Somnus shifted where he stood, only then letting his eyes wander from the Dawn King's dark body. His eyes roamed, taking in the roses, the mortar, the courtyard of the Dawn Court. The night air was crisp, not another soul was about, and when Somnus finally spoke, the accented lilt of his voice was low, but honest. "Indeed. Perhaps one day, I shall... But be cautioned, my young King; every grand actor must seek reprieve. I would loathe your mask to falter amidst the most unsavory of critics."
The smallest hint of a smile upturned the tactician's dark lips, and his eyes, alight and free of the previous somberness, glittered amidst the moonlight as the clouds overhead passed on, allowing the moon's glow to radiate amidst the courtyard unhindered. "To speak frankly, Kasil; I worry for your burdens, and I offer my services forever at your disposal to ease the strain. Strangers we may be, but we are both united in our cause of assisting the workings and welfare of our Court. By association to the Dawn Court's well-being, I worry over yours as well. For you are, in my eyes, one in the same."
For without their sovereign, their Court had little else.
@Kasil - So sorry for the wait, hun!
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
The two of them were silent for a time, the somber tone of his words like a heavy blanket on the night. He could feel sleep’s call beginning to beckon him back to his chambers, though he feared what he might see in his dreams on a night like this. When the stallion chose to spoke again, Kasil flicked an ear in his direction -- though his head did not turn away from the roses that he was currently inspecting. Reprieve. He gave a small snort, as if the idea were absurd to him. It was a harsh reality that a king had no reprieve. This was not some task that he could set another out to do while he leisured. No, Kasil had too much of a desire to be of use to someone...anyone at all to let others lead for him. He sought their counsel and their advice, but in the end it was he who would make the decision. He had heard a saying once, about the man who gave the sentence should swing the sword -- and for him that had struck him as something that he wanted to uphold. He was responsible for everyone’s well being...even if it meant neglecting his own.
A chuckle fell from his lips as the stallion continued on, Kasil’s eyes glittering as he brought his head around to meet the stallion’s eye. ”I appreciate your concern, Somnus. But do not waste it on me.” He murmured. But he had quite a lot of to think over, which he did not wish to do here. He did not want to continue to be drawn into some sort of sleep-deprived pity party for himself. ”It’s here that I’ll bid you goodnight.” He said with an unusual abruptness. ”Dawn is coming, and I need to find a few hours rest before she arrives. The Sovereign gave a gentle tip of the head, before turning away -- his gait more stiff as he left the courtyard to return to his libraries.
