S O M N U S
"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"
The first thing that the golden tactician took note of was the impressive masonry of the Court. From the air it paled in comparison to the very glory that stood in front of him now, ancient stone cascading towards the heavens, aged spires reaching for the sun that they so loved and revered. It was a temple to those only devout enough, a sanctuary for those seeking refuge, a place of learning and knowledge, of fulfillment, of
promise. It's old and weathered walls and winding hallways promised so much, ripe and ready to be plucked, but Somnus did not yet venture inside. There was, after all, so much more to be admired.
The second thing that he noticed, once his captivation of the Court had temporarily receded, was that he was not alone. No, another gentleman appeared to be finding solace in such a grand courtyard, and Somnus could not blame him in the slightest for seeking respite in such a place. Sharp emerald depths regarded the fellow cautiously, briefly wondering if
he was the Lord whom resided in these very halls. He is a dark creature, this gentleman, a sleek liver chestnut alight with brilliant dapples that shone vividly in the ample sunlight. Flaxen locks adorned his neck and rump, curled about his undoubtedly masculine frame in a very suiting way. A golden horn, slightly curved towards the sky, sat proudly upon his brow.
With a fluttering of caramel feathers, his wings settle against flaxen sides, and Somnus listens with silence as he is greeted. The young stallion's manners are impeccable, welcoming the tactician with a polite sort of eloquence. Perhaps he
is the Lord of the Court? His tongue certainly suggested such notion, or at least some kind of studious upbringing.
"Many thanks," Somnus begins, the elegant lilt of his accent light and airy amidst such professional company. It was all too easy to slip into the formal tongue of court despite his recent months of traveling, having served as chamberlain for Kings and Queens in his past. The chestnut's inquiry caused a quirked sort of grin to cross dark lips, a fleeting expression before it was gone and replaced by the tactician's neutral, professional expression.
"Indeed. As though the Gods themselves carried me upon their backs did I fly."
Dipping his head towards the darkly gentleman, the onyx jewel of his crown glinting in the sunlight from the sweeping motion, Somnus steered their conversation towards necessary introductions.
"I am Somnus, good sir. A pleasure." From his quick bow did he straighten, once more standing at attention to full height as though he were a soldier and not a scholar. Old habits died hard, after all, but Somnus took
great care to ensure that he
always looked presentable.
"Are you, by chance, the Lord of the Court?"
