even if your knees become weak

The cold gave way to the blossoming petals of spring, but the black ice of his scaled hide never melted. The glow of his eyes never dimmed, not even on the brightest of days under the glare of the hottest Solterran sun.

But the wind still nipped at his hide, clouds giving way to his massive wings just like dew would evaporate after the morning chill. He cast shadows upon the ground underneath him, but his wingspan afforded enough movement speed that most would barely catch a glimpse of him as he passed above. Should they not look up, they may miss the beast entirely - for as massive as he was, he was silent, body kept airborne by the strong thermals that glided under his wings.

But still, he searched. He knew the echo in his mind, the call that tugged at the most sensible part of his conscious. It spoke breathless words unto him - of the world of dragons and kirins, of scales and fire, frost and ice - and of all the traditions that came with the timelessness of their land.

There was only one he sought, and it did not take long to find the magnificent creature. Polar opposite as he was to Aether himself... he, the dragon of towering black ice and crystal; Isorath, the kirin of ivory and gold. He shone bright among the crowd, and Aether briefly questioned if such a fact was always a good thing.

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Down he descended, strong wings holding fast against the upward push of the air. From above the clouds, the wind bit at his hide feverishly... but as he coasted towards the land below, it welcomed him in a warm embrace. The chilled, calculating expression never left those glowing, wispy eyes, even as a strong neck turned to regard the tallest portion of the citadel that bordered the edge of the sea. He did not see Isorath, but his mind and all his senses told the massive wyvern that he was here.

And with that, he descended down to the citadel's roof, flaring those monstrous wings as he neared the peak and talons touched the imposing stone. Thankfully, most of the Court's citizens were out amongst the land, gathering precious supplies that were once hard to find in winter's harsh grasp... but for those that were still present in the Court, there was no denying Aether's presence.

The soft thud of his landing would emanate through the halls of the Citadel, shaking all the trinkets and garnish that lined the calls of the proud capitol. Aether need not roar to announce his presence... he was above such unnecessary displays. Instead, strong jaws split: cool, harmless frost spilled from his muzzle, down the side of the Citadel itself, pooling in the courtyard as his mind reached out to the kirin...

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No matter where the Regent was, he would know. He may not know what, who, or how... but he would know something. It was a tangible pull, like an uncomfortable pair of cold hands grasping at the scaled patches of his hide, horns, and smooth wings. It would pull, begging him to move, to go, to rush to a place he had no idea of.

Oh, it was deafening, intoxicating his mind with white noise... with voices and thoughts that he may recognize were not his own. At first, the chorus in his mind might be overwhelming, but...

I arrive; have you not even the decency to greet me?

It was a calm voice that would dull the chaos in Isorath's mind with unnerving serenity. But nevertheless, it would make his body move.. to the courtyard, where the cool miasma would wash his legs, surround his body and creep up his neck. It was palpable in a way that simply made no sense for something so nebulous and ethereal, but it would guide his chin upwards to the heavens...

Upwards, to stare into the calm eyes of the creature that shrouded the entire courtyard in his shadow.

Aether will descend from the heavens and perch upon the tallest part of the Citadel in the Dusk court. He will not roar, but frost will spill from his powerful maw. His call to @Isorath will be wordless - spoken to the kirin through a connection only they share.

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This was so much fun to write! <3 -inkbone

RE: You will heed my call - Isorath - 02-08-2018

I S O R A T H

— you will ache as I ache—
tenderly, tragically, beautifully.

Perhaps it was lazy of him, to be holed up in his chambers with a pall cast over him like the unpredictability of the storms at sea. But Isorath had always been a creature of a capricious nature, vivacious one moment and listless the next, amiable as the breeze and next as unforgiving as the tempest.

Conflicted, torn, bitter and angry, he roiled quietly in his chambers. Resplendant none the less, like a jealous dragon upon it's mountain of gold. He should be among his people, the towering ivory pillar of protection and devotion, he should be laughing with them and holding court with the intrigue that had been born in his bones. But he is a jealous, selfish creature on the flip side, and his straining heart demanded his attention with all the fury and wailing lament it had to give, boiling and cooling his blood with each crash of the emotional tide.

The sudden shudder which racked the very foundations of the citadel threw it all into chaos, alarm flashed across porcelain features as muffled voices rose in alarm. There was no time to think, even as his emotions demanded he move not. That he stay upon his pillows and fold his wings upon his crowned head.

There was pulling, his soul drowned out his hearts frothing indignation with a cold claw.

Pulling. Pulling him forward. Pulling him forward on porcelain hooves without his consent.

Everything grew cold, the blood in his veins freezed and his heart slowed it's erratic demands. Such serenity had escaped him as of late, but the song was all wrong. Different, strange and comforting. His bones instead sang a different song, hummed a melody that only the ancients could compose.

One timeless and foreign, but oh so familiar. It ached in his bones, pleasant and proud.

Anticipation bloomed in his chest as he dared to imagine.

Could it be?

And then a voice.

I arrive; have you not even the decency to greet me?

He hadn't realized he'd started running, wings flared toward the heavens as commoner and guard alike jumped to the side, lest they be shoved by the kirin without a thought nor concern. He must get to the courtyard, he must.

The regent must see it to believe it, even if his soul declares otherwise. Even if his bones brand him with proof.

You have been chosen. You have been found worthy.

He thinks of his sister, his brother, and his mother. His cousins with their magnificent beasts, their companions. Their soulbonded. Those who would spend an eternity and there after.

Now he's one of them too. His soul is complete, the long cycle once again closing upon a pair destined to be.

The courtyard is fogged, the mist cold and uncaring as it swept over the springtime blooms and the stones. The sudden darkness that enveloped him, there is no fear in his eyes as he looked skyward, even as his wings lifted him in one fluid sweep toward the dragon who awaited him. Lilac met wispy white, and he cannot hide the smile which slipped onto his face. One of peace, and unbridled joy.

Forgive me, his voice echoed back through their bond as he reached Aether's regal face, I did not know.

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