He’s free to let his mind wander as he heads for the cliffs, Cirrus high above him like a glint of light in the blue sky. Asterion thinks he might know these pathways better than anything else in Novus (better, even, than his own heart); he has walked them near daily, in every season, beneath every shape of cloud or sun or moon. Even his heartbeat settles as soon as the sound of the waves reaches him, the endless shush like a mother’s whisper.
The bay stallion slows as the terrain gets rocky and uneven, the meadow’s grasses falling away to stubborn clumps of bushes, small and scattered oaks, and juts of granite stone soft and painted with moss and lichen. As he walks, Camillia somewhere nearby, he breathes deeply of the taste of the summer sea, salt and brine that might be pungent were it not for the cool breeze off the water.
“Just as it divides sea and city,” he says, and looks back over his shoulder at the castle just visible over the shoulder of a hill. He waits, then, until the mare of silver and black is standing beside him, and adds, “But I’m not sure if it means above…or below.” And the king steps forward, each dark hoof carefully placed, until he’s leaning over the cliffside, and the rock is plunging down, and narrow beaches band the shore in dark sand and gray stone.
The ocean roars and spits up foam as if in protest of the people who have flocked to its shores. The sand is dark and wet, and the wind is awfully loud, roaring forward like a lion. Those who are brave enough to follow the narrow, winding path that leads down to the beach from the edges of the bluffs, its steps cut awkwardly into the rock, will be among the lucky few to find the next clue.
There are many caves carved into the side of the cliffs. Some have been etched out by hands and tools, others by the beating of the waves and the song of the wind. Some are wide and shallow, some narrow and deep, but one in particular stands out for its crushingly narrow though obviously man-made entrance. If you squeeze inside, you’ll find that after a few meters it opens up into...
A prison.
The dust and ash on the floor has been recently disturbed by two sets of hoofprints, leading out of the cave. Otherwise it lacks any sign of life. The air is stale and the bars of the cells have dwindled to the thinnest of pillars after years of erosion.
Written in some dark liquid on the inside of the last cell at the back of the cave is another message.
One great eye gazes out from the ocean. Laid to waste by that which eats but has no mouth, Always hungry, fed by those black of heart. Roman greensward west by south.
This is a place that may only be accessed by flight or a magic that offers a similar transportational ability. Feel free to work with other characters to get there! Please PM me (RB) here or on Discord if you’ve got any questions.
Camillia had fallen behind the sovereign when she had examined the last clue. Although curious, she couldn't be bothered to run after him and instead followed his hoof prints and his ever-present gull in the sky. Catching up she found him positioned on a cliff above the sea. Looking about she found a castle not far off. It was the perfect setting and without him she would've never found him. Hearing his ponderings, she leaned further over the edge and surveyed the cliff. Impossible paths crisscrossed its canvas and her eyes turned to Asterion beside her. Now how should she put this? Hey you're probably too important to fall to your death. I'm better at this than you because I have wings."I think this is my opportunity to make myself useful," she said, trotting off of the cliff as the words left her mouth.
The rush of air took her breath away for a moment. She let herself fall, her wings spreading open just before she impacted the sand below. Her hair blew around her face and she had to shake her mane from obstructing her vision. Her eyes quickly set to work examining the cliffs and it wasn't too long before she had an idea of where to go. Returning to Asterion, she gave him a quick update at the carved path she had seen and flew back down to investigate further. Any words to wait or of warning were lost on her as excitement built in her chest.
Landing, silence fell over the mare, the place seemed far older than her and two sets of hoof prints waited for her. Cautious, she checked every crevice for traps, suddenly very aware at how alone she was. Ahead of her was what appeared to be a prison. It was such an odd place for a prison and yet ingenious as well. Camillia marveled at it before exploring further. Eventually she found the writings in the far cell and quickly set to memorizing the words exactly so that she might return them to the king without error. They were odd and confusing words and she set to deciphering them as she made her way from the cave and back up the cliff.
"One great eye gazes out from the ocean.
Laid to waste by that which eats but has no mouth,
Always hungry, fed by those black of heart.
Roman greensward west by south."
She repeated to the stallion when she found him. "I found the riddle in the last cell of a prison down there, it was a very interesting place and deserves more study if you didn't already know of it." Her words were far more animated than usual and she paced about in front of the stallion. It was then that she waited expectantly for the man's reply. He knew far more of the region than her and though she retrieved the words with ease, deciphering them was much more difficult. "Water or fire might explain the line 'that which eats but has no mouth', but I'm not sure about the rest." She said, a bit restless from not being able to figure out the riddle.
She is not the only one to lose her breath as she plummets; he holds his too, watching her, her dark wings tucked and the pale marks on her skin and foam-colored hair spread out like moonlight on water. There is something thrilling in watching her fall (and then, of course, spread wide her wings to catch herself), something that makes his heart ache, beauty and wildness and longing.
Oh, what he might trade for wings.
He tries to watch her, as she inspects the cliffs from the rocky beach, small as another stone against the breakers from his height. Cirrus is watching, too, until she returns to his pacing figure, settling with a flap of storm-gray wings onto his back. She’ll find it, the gull says, and the king only nods and leans again over the edge, the wind whipping his black hair.
Then Camillia is returning, and Asterion steps back, giving her room to land. They exchanged few words, but he could tell her interest has sharpened, and her excitement causes his own heart to quicken. Yet again he’s waiting, longer this time, long enough to begin to worry -
Until she’s back once more. He has just a moment to take her in, black eyes inscrutable, horns pale as moonbeams and smelling of something more than sea and wind - something dank and somehow ancient.
And then she’s speaking, and he’s listening with his dark lips drawn in a thoughtful line, his gaze straying between her and the sea. It’s not until she says cell of a prison that he turns back, and the surprise is clearly written on his face.
“A prison,” he says, and at once a sense of foreboding grows in him like a vine unfurling. Cells carved into the cliffs of the sea - oh, how much history this world has, how many darknesses and dreams. The search feels real, now, in a way even the graves hadn’t, and he begins to understand Marisol’s urgency and concern. “I will be sure to - thank you, Camillia, and well done. I’m lucky you’re with me.”
The bay is as restless, even if he doesn’t join in her pacing; he turns the riddle over in his mind, and flicks his gaze back to hers. “Yes, I was thinking of the sea from that line. But the black of heart, and the great eye…” It frustrates him, not to know; when he shakes his head Cirrus takes off again from his back, to search from a vantage point he cannot. “Southwest of here is the capital proper, and the land around could be called a greensward…perhaps we begin there.”
It was surprisingly pleasant to hear the gratitude from the sovereign. She wasn't used to it and although her stubborn nature let her do nothing but a quick nod, she was growing to like this stallion. His suggestion was reasonable and she quickly skipped over the foreign feelings and to the task at hand. Besides, the task at hand was much more interesting and less uncomfortable.
"That seems to make sense, perhaps from there we will be able to see something in the sea. The prison was new to you, so perhaps there is another place unknown to you," she said deep in thought. She had recently read of some strange building that would reside in the middle of waters that emitted a great light. Perhaps it was by fire, which would explain part of the poem. But it would be quite strange for the king to not know of something so near his home. Not to mention she couldn't for the life of her remember the name of it. Embarrassment was not a common emotion to her, but for some reason she felt like she might feel it if Asterion caught on that she couldn't recall the word.
She ceased her incessant pacing and waited for the stallion to guide her to the greens. Her eyes looking at him expectantly and she pointed in the direction of the castle. "Well then, if you'll lead the way, let us go," she said with an uncharacteristic smile.
