The sun was as hot as he’d ever felt it, blazing down in such a way that it seemed to cook him alive, through his brown and white speckled coat, straight to the bone. It brought him back in his mind, to the distant and hazy memories of his foalhood that took place here. To a time when all he’d known was the proximity of the sun and the sand of the desert, and the deep, rough yet kind voice of the blacksmith who had provided him shelter. He could still smell the leather, could see the sparks from the forge, the might swing of his hammer brought down onto a white-hot strip of metal. The weight of the weapons across his scrawny back, far too heavy for his delicate frame to bear.
A year ago, Ipomoea would never have believed he was destined to return here willingly.
A shadow shaded his eyes momentarily as Odet passed by overhead in a wide, lazy arc. His presence was a comfort, Ipomoea’s constant companion here among the empty sands that stretched out behind him. He wasn’t alone. Not this time. Not like when he’d been abandoned to die amidst those unforgiving sands.
Of course, Somnus was with him as well, his brother by choice. He, too, was a comfort, a side to press into in case he was in need of a stronger shoulder, a steady hand to guide him. His presence and companionship made the walk through the desert far more enjoyable.
The Davke attack was evident in the remains of the Day Court capitol, piles of rubble and ruin lurking around every corner. the fires may have long been extinguished, but the rose-colored boy suspected it would take far longer for the residents to clean up the ashes and scorch marks upon the remaining walls.
But a group of children continued to play here in the courtyard square anyway, a riotous game of tag prompting fits of laughter and high-pitched squeals. It brought a smile to his lips, a flicker of hope fluttering to life within his chest.
Naturally, the squire who met him was far less enthusiastic. His eyes caught site of Ipomoea's own, steely and cold despite the heat of the desert. “State your name and purpose, boy.”
The derision in his voice took Ipomoea by surprise. He knew he was young—and he was no good at hiding it—but no one in Delumine had sneered at him because of it. What was youth if not an opportunity to learn, to experience? Was the Day Court really so different from their western neighbors? Mentally he added it to the list of reasons he did not belong here, perhaps would never belong here.
He drew himself up, lifting his head considerably higher before answering the runner. “Regent Ipomoea and Sovereign Somnus of the Dawn Court. Here to speak with Sovereign Seraphina, and to bring gifts to the Day Court.” The look he received was nothing short of doubtful, but he supposed he deserved it here. From his delicate ankle wings to the crown of flowers on his brow, he did not fit in. He did not look like someone worthy of their respect, far was he from warrior-esque. But the squire turned anyway, gesturing for them to follow nonetheless into the cool interior of the palace. Ipomoea cast a glance back at Somnus before taking the first step forward.
Their hoofbeats echoed on the sandstone floor as they walked, Ipomoea doing his best to land ultra-gently, suddenly self-conscious as he was of how much noise they were making. His wings folded themselves abruptly against his lower legs, as if they, too, were trying to disappear from sight.
After what felt like an eternity they came to a stop, and Ipomoea found himself waiting before a grand set of double doors, blocking his sight from what lay behind them.
And there he waited alongside his King, for the desert Queen herself to let him in. His heartbeat fluttered in his chest, the feathers of his small, fragile wings ruffling.
OOC | @Seraphina, and @Somnus if you still wanna join! I tried to leave it open, I can edit it more if you;d like ;u;
Somnus had never been to Solterra before. The closest that he had come to these desert wastelands had been when Maxence and his entourage had come to the Harvest Festival last fall. Their meeting had been brief and a poor mockery of a political meeting, but that had been one of Somnus’ first tastes of those who braved the harsh desert terrain and called it ‘home’. It had been an interesting engagement, for sure, so he could only assume the type of individuals they would encounter on their journey to the Day Court capitol.
The journey had been an arduous one; unaccustomed to the heat and the elements as he was, Somnus’ glistening, golden coat grew to a dark copper when damp and slick with sweat. It was easy for him to tire when faced with such unforgiving brutality. The intense heat and rolling sand dunes were nothing like the cool shade and plentiful water of Delumine. He surely looked frightfully disheveled and in no physical state to hold audience with Solterra’s fierce Queen, yet he kept pace with Ipomoea and even during the height of the noontime hour would hold his wing high in the air to provide shade for his beloved Regent. After all, the last thing that Somnus wanted was for Ipomoea to burn beneath the rays of sunlight. It was a small favor, and he wished he could do more, yet their resources were limited.
As they arrived at the capitol, Somnus held his tongue while silently observing. Keen verdant eyes roamed the lingering destruction, the dusty walls and ramshackle structures. News of the Davke attack had reached them, yet by the time that the news had arrived, they had been too late to offer any form of immediate reprieve or assistance. Would Solterra view them negatively because of it? Hopefully their visit and offerings would clear up any potential bad blood between them… Yet only time would tell. The laughter of children amidst the destruction was a welcome sound, and offering the group of foals locked in their game of tag a sidelong glance, the Dawn King remained in-step with his Regent, advancing as far as they could before their path was barred.
The words spouted their way were unpleasant and unwelcoming, and Somnus did not appreciate the tone in which they addressed Ipomoea. The Sovereign’s gaze narrowed, dark lips twisted downwards into a pensive frown. From their journey he was hardly in the mood for such aggression, yet could they really doubt the citizens of Solterra for being so cautious? No. No, they really couldn’t.
Before he could offer a reply which may have risked a tongue lashing, Po was beating him to it, speaking with the skills he had surely developed during his servitude as Emissary. The Dawn King shifted and idly brushed the back of one mottled wing against the appaloosa’s side, a gentle caress of affection, of reassurance that he was not alone. The young man held such a gifted, gilded tongue, that Somnus did not doubt his abilities to get them by the doubtful squire. As it turned out, his faith was correct. As the squire turned away, the dunalino’s lips lifted in a furtive smile. “Well done, little brother,” he murmured approvingly, before once more falling into step at Po’s side as they were lead further into the capitol.
They came to a stop before a set of double doors, intricate yet modest in detail. Somnus drew himself up to his full height, rolling a shoulder as he lifted his head, posture collected and poised. Alba, who had been fluttering overhead alongside Odet, spiraled downwards to take up her customary position upon the dunalino’s broad croup. The barn owl landed effortlessly, tucking her wings close to her feathered frame, and watched with both curiosity and scrutiny.
There was nothing to do but wait. Either the Day Queen would see them, or they would be sent back the way that they had come. For the gifts that had shouldered and the hope of their visit, Somnus hoped that it was the first.
Once more he reached out, the point of his muzzle brushing against the appaloosa’s shoulder. “Peace.” Fleeting and small, but he hoped that his word would help reassure Ipomoea’s state of mind. There was little else he could do, but he would try.
@Seraphina @Ipomoea – Who’s the worst? This girl. I’m so, so sorry for the wait on this. <3 It’s super overdue, but I hope we can pick it up now that things have kinda settled down!
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
There was a quiet authority in her, anymore – for all of her undeniable coldness, something in her bright chips of eyes burnt like flickering embers. Seraphina hadn’t thought violence capable of phasing her; she had seen more than enough of it as a girl, after all, but somehow she felt like she had been distant from the violence she committed. Every time she had sunk her teeth into the flesh of an enemy soldier, she had felt like someone who was not herself. (She paced, the soft, rhythmic clack of her hooves resounding against the sandstone floor of the throne room.) The violence she committed was not hers to bear, or so she would like to think. She hadn’t had a choice in the matter, or so she would like to think. (Some part of her disagrees, and she asks it sometimes what it would rather she have done.) Dirty and bloodstained as she might be, it was never from a fight she had chosen…or a fight she could have prevented.
This was something different, she thought, eyeing the sunlight as it refracted off the jagged teeth of the windows. This was on her head, and the blood – she couldn’t peel it off like a second skin. There was no stepping away anymore, no running from what she was and what she had done. It wasn’t for his nation this time – it was for yours. The weight of it all stung more than she ever expected, even though she hadn’t asked for this, or wanted this, or – or maybe she had, the moment that she had chosen to step up in her predecessor’s place.
She had wanted something, then, illuminated by stained glass with a viper at her side. She couldn’t remember what it was.
A guard clattered up to the center of the room to stand before the stairs that lead up to the scorched, gnarled throne; she didn’t use it, and she never had. The Sovereign of Delumine …and his Reagent have arrived, my lady. She pretended not to notice the pause. The visit was unexpected, and she felt a bit uncomfortable for her lack of preparation – that said, the city had been in far worse shape when she’d greeted Isorath and…far, far worse than that with Cyrene and Florentine. She had been in far worse shape, eyes red-rimmed and wild, hair tangled in greasy mats behind her. She was normal now, or something like it, but sleep still evaded her; whenever she closed her eyes, she smelled burning flesh and heard the distant echo of screaming. She thought that was over, too, until it wasn’t.
But she had foreign dignitaries to greet.
She clattered down the stairs and swept through the hall, pausing only when she reached the great iron doors to the hall; she paused, took a deep breath, and pulled them open.
She fixed the two men standing outside with a swift glance; rudimentary inspections. Ipomoea, wreathed with flowers, painted and delicate, seemed to her as his reputation had implied – respectable for the honey, void of the sting. (Nevertheless, she thought there was a quiet confidence to him.) Dawn’s king, on the other hand…athletic, with a clever gleam in his eyes. She wouldn’t particularly want to get on the wrong side of that horn, and those wings…likely easy enough to break, but trouble on a battlefield…not that she anticipated any such trouble with Dawn. (Old habits, she supposed, though she knew that they had flared in the wake of the Davke attack.) Both were coated in a thick mat of sweat, but that was so natural in the desert heat as to be entirely disregarded in her observations.
She offered a dip of her head, her eyes flitting between them to meet each of their gazes in turn. “Welcome to Solterra - it is a pleasure to finally meet you both.” Her voice was cool and collected, the thick accent of her native lands meandering along each careful syllable as she stepped aside, gesturing them into the throne room. “Might I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?” She suspects it is to pay their respects, or something like it, but a smaller, more troubled part of her wonders if Solterra had in some way offended Delumine – it wouldn’t be the first time she has been surprised by the discretions committed by her citizens.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
05-31-2018, 01:45 PM - This post was last modified: 05-31-2018, 01:45 PM by Seraphina
The nuzzle against his shoulder was as unexpected as it was welcome. Po turned his enough to meet the Sovereign’s verdant gaze with a smile, dipping his head in thanks. Peace. Such a simple word, with such a complicated interpretation. It had once come so effortlessly, but appaloosa was finder it harder and harder to maintain as of late.
And then the doors were opening, and Ipomoea no longer had time to think.
He held his breath as the wood pulled inward, light flickering its way through the opening it made. His eyes were wide and eager, as if hungry for a look upon the Solterran Queen - and she certainly did not underwhelm him.
Seraphina was the complete opposite of what Maxence had been, dressed in a cold grey and a colder stare. Dawn and Day sized each other up in a glance, one side smooth and calculating, the other eager and inquisitive. Not for the first time, Ipomoea found himself wondering briefly what he was doing here.
’Even her voice is cool and collected,’ his mind whispered, her tones fitting her appearance to an absolute T. Ipomoea let a cautious smile slip back onto his lips, as natural as it was friendly. ”It is our pleasure, your Grace,” he said politely. ”We’ve been anxious to meet our eastern neighbor.”
He chanced a glance back at Somnus, hoping to find confirmation in his green eyes. ”We’ve come to offer peace, between our two Courts. And our friendship, if you would have it.”
