The lake is a mirror. Still and serene, it reflected the night's own beauty back at it, showing Calligo her ethereal face in silent wonderment and reverance. Cradled within the sleeping hills, the wind carried the muted hum of the Night Court's nightly reverie. Drums sounded like warning of thunder from this distance, and the lifted voices a choir to beckon it on. Then there is the faint smell of perfume smoke drifted on the autumnal wind, woodsy and sweet in the same breath and it filled the Kirin's chest with sparks.
The night was intoxicating here, while the rest of the world slept and slumbered peacefully onward, the Court of Stars burst to life with a passion that would put the sun to shame. Where his bones should of wanted to lay low, instead they're urged forward. Long limbs graceful and melodic as they struck against the banks of the lake.
Entranced and caught on the music, the sights, the smells. The bonfires stretched the length and breath of the shadowed kingdom. From the praire to the mountains, he has spied the unyielding flames and the wisps of voices caught in euphoria. He himself is his own music, the gold pieces of his hair ornaments and those attached to the noise and earring piece upon his face sang softly into the night. Even those on his tail, which curled in luxurious arcs behind him, the strands of starlight twinkled and shimmered in the light of the moon, hummed their own melodic tune.
Here he shimmered and glowed, beneath Calligo's watchful gaze. He glowed and found peace, the Court walls provided safety, a security and luxury he had been birthed and raised to. Plush pillows and the sultry smell of jasmine and incense, they're a comfort. A silk sheet and a soft pillow to lay upon and in as the morning rose and night fell. Isorath had fled into the night like a comet, wings outstretched as he danced across the night sky. Never once coming down until he'd seen the lake. There he had descended like an oracle, silver strands long, loose and windswept as porcelain hooves had touched the blessed cool of the grass.
Then he had run, like a ghost across the lake side. To where he was now, slightly breathless as he moved to the rhythmn of the night. What had he run from exactly? And the thought alone caused his elegant dance to falter, the music which chimed off him stuttered with the motion and he stilled on the edge of the lake.
Why had he fled? Why had he chased the stars until he had found his current sanctuary?
Slowly, ever so slowly he'd drawn to a stop. Lilac's stared out at the water mirror in front of him as tendrils of his mane billowed in the night breeze and wrapped around his frame, cloaking him in an ethereal mist. You could lie, one part of him whispered, which in turn caused the simmering essence of his soul to give a painful lurch. Or, one other piece of him supplied, it's voice no better than talon raked against his walls, you could just admit it to yourself.
"Look where that's gotten me before." He responded to no one in particular, long white lashes fluttering against his sharp cheeks and the scales lovingly lined there. Slowly, the winged Kirin lowered himself upon the bank. Wrapped in his own hair and wings, glittering beneath the canopy of stars, smoke and perfume. "Nothing but suffering, that's where." The prince added after a breath, his voice a quiet hum as he settled in for a night of star gazing. Let his mind be wrapped up and lost in everything magical about this place, than the shackles his own thoughts often left him with.
A chilly updraft tickled the long feathers of his wings, the two sets of them eager to keep him high above the earth as the stallion inhaled quietly. The scent of smoke filled his nostrils and he moved his chin downward, his blue eyes fell upon spots of light. Fires were scattered about the realm below him. Zaius tilted his head and the gears within his skull began turning quickly.
But, he was distracted for a moment and that drew his eye from the lake that sparkled beautifully ahead. A smile spread across velvet lips as he titled his body and began his descent. His hair billowed in the wind as a flag of peace, the weight of his braids caused an uneven stream of white. There were no clouds, the night was calm and the lady moon shone down upon the lake, it illuminated the area for what seemed to be miles.
As he neared the surface of the water, he untucked a leg and let one of his hooves skid over the crystal clear water as he neared the shore. However, it took only moments for the sounds of the night court to fill his ears. Music, the beat of drums, it all overwhelmed him in moments. The beat of the music, the calm air filled with the toxicity of ecstasy all filled him up quickly as his hooves met the rocky shore. He was instantly lost. The wonders of the night court swam around him as he moved through it in a trance.
Suddenly, the fallen closed his eyes and lept. He twirled and danced, his wings worked as appendages as they stretched and twisted. Each movement graceful and enchanting as the angel let go of all the weight upon him. He hadn’t moved like this since the parties in Cirrus and for once, he enjoyed the sensation. Warmth filled him, the starry night seemed to grow brighter behind his eyelids as a laugh escaped him. The sound was exquisite, filled with a bliss he’d never felt.
Slowly, the man slowed his dance, his impressive stature coated with sweat from his undertaking. Nostrils flared as he breathed deeply and enjoyed the wonders of the fresh air. “Ahh, how wonderful this place is,” he said to no one in particular.
He walked slowly around the edge of the lake, his wings allowed to drag along and skim the water. A figure came into view not long after, the beat of the music still loud in his ears. “Hello,” Zaius muttered kindly, unsure if he would disturb the stranger.
As he moved closer the other figure became easier to see and he took in every inch of the white kirin in awe. He was beautiful, covered in golden scales with horns that seemed to reach for the heavens. But it was not these features that enraptured him most, it was the other’s wings. They were not feathered, they were leathery, like those of a dragon’s he had seen paintings of as a boy. “Your wings, they’re marvelous,” Zaius said, his eyes trailed from the white man’s wings to his face as a heat spread across his cheeks, embarrassment at his outburst.
Intoxicating, yes, it was an apt description for the sights, sounds and delights Denocte had to offer. How did any who came, ever managed to leave? How did they find it in themselves to return to the Courts from which they'd came? Had they spent their last remaining days in melancholy, silently wondering how they may extend their time within Calligo's realm for just a little longer.
He imagined so, because he too is now one of those souls. Isorath had come to Denocte with purpose, to see his knowledge expanded upon and carefully inked in tomes for ages to come, so that others might drink deep and be enraptured by what they found there. Little by little, as the days had come and gone, he had found himself each time his head had found the comfort of his pillows, that another night coloured rose had bloomed in his rib cage, overtaking the garden of dusk lilies that had woven themselves intimately around the ivory bars.
The night air is pleasant and warm against his shimmering hide, the light of the moon and stars twinkled off his gilded scales softly, illuminating them further as the Kirin gazed out at the mirror lake. There but not really, his mind was elsewhere at war with his thoughts, and his heart, oh it danced in time to the faint sound of drums and the muffled singing carried on the wind. It dared to shake the chains which shackled it, rattled them against the icy bars of the prison Isorath had encased it in long ago.
If he had been more present, he would of spied the stranger who danced to the rhythm of Denocte. Yet, he was Taeryn first and foremost, blood of dragons and dragon-blessed. Who dared disturb a dragon at rest? Even outside of his homeland's protection, where slavers skulked and sorcerers with their dark magic, they too had to tread carefully. The kirins still had teeth and claws, even without their fabled beasts and magic to pull to them.
Hello.
Immediately he's pulled back into himself at the kind greeting, ears flicked backwards and then forth again as his head snapped to the source of the voice. If he had been surprised, he didn't let it show, instead his features are perfectly schooled into a look of neutral curiosity. "Hello." He responded coolly, trained politeness heavy on his greeting.
He had wanted a distraction from his tumultuous thoughts, hadn't he? It seemed Calligo had answered his prayers, in one way or another.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, it is not the first time he's had others simply greet him and then take his form in. An exotic oddity from a land shrouded in smoking seas and mystery. He's content to endure the roaming eyes with a smirk barely concealed on his pale maw, his head lifted higher to better showcase his appearance.
It also gives him the perfect opportunity to return the favor. Four wings are an oddity to him too, a first for him to have witnessed. Not even in Vectaeryn he had spied such beauty. Or, if he had witnessed such a unique attribute, the equine blessed with them was so utterly droll that his mind made sure to wipe them from his memory completely. Then his coat, as white as snow, with deliberate smattering of the earths colours, rich and warm. The tones reminded him of autumn in Sunsyia.
Your wings, they're marvelous.
A silver brow rose as his silver lashes fluttered toward the blushing stallion, shifting a little, his wings lifted from his sides to better reveal them. "Thank you, though my Gods are truly the ones that deserve the praise." His accent is heavy on his words, or as heavy as such an accent could get, for his was lilted, flowing and musical. "I only deserve a fraction, for keeping them looking marvelous." He winked, though his curiosity is back in his next breath. "Your wings," Isorath began, mulling over his words as his gaze lingered on the warm plumage, "they're beautiful, but is it not tiring to have two sets of them? I could not imagine having two sets of these." He mused, his attention moved back to his own as they lowered and resumed their post resting at his sides.
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