This damn magic had gotten him lost.

The stallion huffed and puffed and would have blown all the houses down if there had been anything other than sand around him. An annoyed groan and a petulant whine mixed together to fall from his lips in a pitiful clump of self pity as he dragged his heavy hooves over yet another dune, his only reprieve from the setting sun being the whipping wind. While it helped cool him, it also flung sand into places he didn't even know existed on his body. 

Yes, by the time Camdis had made it to the peak of another dune, the relic magic yanking him along without so much as a moments care for his discomfort, the stallion had sand scraping his buttcrack, chafing at the joints where his front legs met his shoulders, burying itself in his hair, his ears, his mouth. Another groan rose from his belly and vibrated in his chest, but he did not part his lips for fear of eating more sand. What hellish Court would claim this as their own? The Day Court must be a bunch of masochists he thought grumpily to himself, brows drawn low over narrowed eyes. 

Nodding silently at his judgement of the entire court of day, the Exile King tried to think of something that wasn't covered in sand and heat and misery and MORE SAND.
                                                                                                                                                                                                      

"Aaaaannnnhhgghhhhhuuuhhh"

The stallion groaned happily as he pressed himself against the delicious warmth of the Day Court palace's outer wall, the stone heated from the midday sun. While, of course, his stubborn nature would prevent him from admitting whatsoever so anyone else that he was enjoying himself while at another court's capitol, he couldn't deny that the sunlight was heavenly upon his sore muscles. From the moment he had claimed the Night Court as his home and taken the demi-goddess into his heart, the stallion had been following the tug of the oh-so-mysterious relic. The insofar fruitless search was one that tugged him every which way, forcing him to explore each and every corner of the land without reprieve. 

Not that he minded. 

In fact, the Exile King had felt a thrumming in his veins since his first step of the hunt, an exhilaration that made him feel awake, alive, maybe even a little bit happy. 

A small grin toyed at the edges of his lips as his eyes slid closed, relishing in the heat and in the softness of the sands beneath his hooves. If the Day Court didn't consist of a bunch of happy-go-luckies, the stallion may have been glad enough to claim it as his own, but he fit into the workings of the Night Court like a missing piece, sliding into place without resistance and without strife. Still, he wondered at the lives of other courts, wondered if they had libraries, if they loved their children and their own, if they were like everyone else or if each kingdom was a world unto itself. 
                                                                                                                                                                                                      

His legs and parts of his buttocks were peppered with the scrapes and cuts that he had earned while travelling across the craggy cliffs of the Dusk Court - the last territory in the realm that had gone unexplored by the silver eyed male. The trek over the rocky bluffs, while smaller than the Arma Mountains of his home, was far more treacherous and there had been many a time where the stallion's heart had skipped a beat for the fear of tumbling into the ravenous ocean below. 

Despite the difficulty of the travel and the exhaustion that now plagued his very bones, however, the dark bay had made it to a prairie nestled between sharp peaks. Gaze of moonlight travelling up, up, up, following the line of the closest cliff, Camdis Lohir wondered if they ever scraped at the sky's belly and if the sky had ever bled. What would come from the tear? He wondered as he stood at the foot of the mountain, an ant before a god, a grain of sand before the sea. 

"Do you think it would hurt?" He asked no one in particular, voice scratchy and low from disuse, "If the heavens cried out in pain, would we feel it, too?"

Camdis was not sure that he wanted the answer to that question. He had so many questions already that he was sure that they would begin to fall from his eyes, lips, nostrils, and ears, a never ending stream of ?????

With a small smile, the stallion spoke once more, his voice carried away by the wind, "Don't answer that."
                                                                                                                                                                                                      

His search had brought him to the most peaceful place that he could ask for - outside of the Court of Night, of course - and Camdis was only too happy to have his onyx hooves squelching and sucking against the warm muck of the swamp. He had used the weak telekinesis that flowed through his veins to braid his lengthy mane and tale, each wrapped around the other enough times to create a rather comical pair of buns. The stallion had caught a reflection of himself in the murky waters only minutes after finishing what he was sure was a regal hairstyle and nearly dislodged the massive styles with his guffaws. 

To be quite honest, almost as soon as he had realized that he was actually laughing, Camdis had stopped, his body ramrod straight and muscles tense with shock. It had been the first time that he had truly laughed out of joy. Of course, the brute had found himself chuckling cruelly at himself from time to time, shaming his failures and mocking his own shortcomings, but he had never laughed in a manner that wasn't filled with self loathing. 

It felt nice. 

He had tried again after his initial surprise, tried to push his stomach and heave his lungs and shove the sound of happiness into the air, but he could not find the spark of joy that had summoned the sound. It was hard not to take that as yet another failure to add to his ever-growing list. Despite this, though, the stallion did not despair; instead, he reasoned that laughing once in his life was still better than never laughing. 

And now, as he stood in the shade of a great and sprawling swamp tree, Camdis Lohir reveled in the memory of it, the lightness in his chest and the carefree sensation that had bubbled up from his belly and into the atmosphere. 

If only he could find that relic, maybe it could teach him how to laugh again. 
                                                                                                                                                                                                      

It was like waking up. 

The dense emerald of the grasses and the freshness that rode upon the back of the soft afternoon breeze was a soothing balm to the cranky stallion's bitter moods. While he would be loath to admit that he was enjoying himself, Camdis couldn't help the contented sigh that blew from his nostrils as he continued his leisurely stroll across the fields. It came as a pleasant surprise to him that the realms that he had stumbled into had helped ease the tension of his existence, had help lighten the burden of guilt that pressed so cruelly into his shoulders. 

Well, as long as he was alone, anyways. 

It seemed as if when there were others around, all the stallion could think of were his failures and of the bitterness that pressed close to his heart like a brand. He had never known true companionship, he had never known a conversation that was not of an educational or commanding nature - he hadn't even gotten to know his own wife, the poor girl. Camdis Lohir shook his head at himself, considering the beautiful cousin that he had taken to his bed in his desperation and agony. 

Her name had been Twilla and she had been kind enough. A dutiful wife, an even more dutiful priestess, she had not blanched at the stallion's admission of cowardice and his intent to vacate the throne once their children were ready to submit to the counsel of the elders. She was a good mother from what he had seen, loving and affectionate where he had been distant and terrified. 

He sighed again; they were in capable arms and he prayed to whoever would listen that his failures would not bring them the strife that he so deserved                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

If the Night Court was the peace and comfort of a mother's embrace, the Dusk Court was the lullaby that sang one to sleep. 

The sky was painted in shades of lavender and blush, though closer to the horizon, where the sun had dipped, the heavens were draped in swaths of vermillion and saffron; beautiful, delicate, yet bellowing it's presence to the world. Cocking his horned head and staring up at the elegant rise of the court's citadel, Camdis felt the curiosity rise within his breast - what did the pale walls of Dusk's capitol hold? What secrets were there? Did the relic lay within it's vast, twining halls? 

He would never know. 

A child of tradition and superstition, the bay refused to enter the holy houses of other gods, and because there were no temples devoting each and every layer of brick and mortar to their beloved deity, the weight of worship lay within the halls of each citadel or fortress or castle that graced the earth. Though Lohir could not say that he loved the demi-goddess that had welcomed him into her borders, he cared for and respected her deeply; she had given him a home, a purpose, something to live for other than the weight of a dead sister and the guilt that his past had wrought. 

He no longer wished to die. 

Blinking furiously at the tears that had welled up so suddenly within his silvery eyes, the stallion continued his silent vigil, waiting for the thread of relic's summons to pull at his heart. 

The borderlands were a magnificent sight to behold. 

He had seen them at a distance, framing the horizon and guarding the border of his court - funny that he had already claimed the realm of Night as his own, though he had been there for a short while. Distantly, he wondered if it was wrong of him to adopt an alien terra as his home when he had rejected the kingdom that had been his very birthright. Camdis shook his heavy head, banning the thoughts and instead focusing upon the soothing shush shush of his mane and tail dragging along the ground. 

Head hanging low, blackened lips brushing against the stubborn grasses that sprouted along the foothills of the mountain range, Camdis Lohir felt something akin to peace. Breathing in deeply and shutting his pale eyes, the stallion allowed himself to bask in the lack of turmoil, the absence of bitterness in his heart. How long would the moment last? Did he even deserve to feel anything other than the self-loathing that had seeped into nearly every waking moment for the past four years? 

Would his sister hate him for the peace that blossomed in his breast as night descended upon the Arma Mountains? Would the relic that he sought remove these doubts from his soul? 

Could he be absolved from the sin of his existence?

So, this was his new home; his new court. Camdis was surprised at the lack of animosity that he felt toward the fortress and it's people.

The stallion's obsidian hooves pressed heavily against the cobbles of the court yard, the clacking sound echoing sharply off of the towering stone walls that surrounded him. Yet, it did not feel as if the walls were trapping him, smothering him as they did in the castle that stood as his birthright. No, instead, the mammoth stone of the Night Court felt more like an all-encompassing embrace, a motherly protection. 

It felt like asylum, and for the first time in his months of travel, in his ages of fleeing the crown that demanded his presence, Camdis felt safe. 

The relief that thrummed within his veins was a palpable thing, for the Exile King's shoulders drooped and his great head lowered, his breath coming easily at last. Though, despite having found what some dark, kindly corner of his mind had titled home, Camdis still felt as if he were searching for something. It was there on the breeze, bursting through the sky, beating like a drum within his chest, the exhilaration of the chase, the search, the discovery, the victory. His pulse quickened as he slowed to a stop in the night-darkened courtyard, silvery eyes gazing out at the deepening shadows and flickering torches.

What was here? Had it summoned him to this land? What was his purpose here? 
Maybe the answer would be in whatever he found along the way.