yesterday i was clever i wanted to change the world
H
is hoofbeats sound hollow as he walks down the corridor of the citadel, sunlight streaming through the open windows and a breeze lifting his mane playfully.
His mane was loose now, free from the tight braids he had often worn in the past. It tumbles free in dark waves past his shoulders, strung with beads and seashells and flower petals. A small, tawny feather stands out brightly, like the first star in a night sky. It flutters there, just at the end of a braid, soft and downy and ribbed with dark bars.
It was quiet here, but not in an unwelcome way. Ipomoea had grown accustomed to the noise and crowds of Denocte, with their bonfires and incense and moonlit dances. Even in war, the Night Court’s spirit was unbreakable, their love for life apparent in all they did. It had been easy to lose himself there, for a while becoming one of them.
He wasn’t sure now as he walked amongst an empty hallway if the quiet of Delumine made him feel at peace. It used to, he knew. The Dawn Court had always been his safe place, a kingdom separated by the rest of the world not by borders, but by their mindset. They were a studious people, as was he; as he walked those familiar paths into the capitol it seemed to him like the land was putting him back together. Denocte had taken him apart and stretched him bare, made him vulnerable. vulnerable. It had broken him, rendered him to pieces - he had had to harden each one, anchoring them lest they scatter and he lost himself completely.
Now he found his healing in Delumine, in his home. But there was still a piece of him that ached for the clamor and babble of a lively world, that mourned at the way his city seemed to slumber despite the fires raging just outside its forests. It was why he came home now, before the war had ended.
“Somnus?”
Once he might have trembled, and buried his thoughts and fears somewhere deep inside where the light could not reach. Not long ago there may have been a quiver in his voice, a flutter in his heart that made it hard to breathe.
But today Ipomoea is steady, and despite the heaviness that hands like a cloud over his head he lifts his head higher, higher, hoping to see the light breaking through, the silver lining on its edge. He does not forget the fires that burned through the night, or the ribs he saw sticking out from a young child’s torso. He had counted each one, burning it into his memory. And now, he takes that memory home with him. He had looked into the eyes of a murderer, and he would not forget.
“I’ve come home, brother,” his voice is a breath of life coursing ahead of him, as warm as sunlight and as sweet as honey. A flower blooms on the windowsill that he stops besides, and through that window a red streak comes flying. The cardinal lands, as light as a feather, and one wing caresses the flower’s petals as he tucks them in neatly to his sides.
A smile blossoms across his face much like the flower, as he regards the creature warmly - and yet a twinge pulls painfully at his heart. He shifts from one hoof to the other, conscious of the weight of the stone statue he carries with him. Odet.
He turns his gaze in time to see the golden dunalino, with his dark horn and impressive wings, enter view. And despite the cloud hanging still over his thoughts, dark and heavy with rain, still he smiles and steps forward, longing to embrace his friend.
For far too long Somnus had pondered hard on what he might do or say the next time that he saw Ipomoea. The sting from the way that Delumine’s Regent had left still ached, remaining a stubborn, bitter taste upon his tongue that he simply couldn’t be rid of. While he was proud of his little brother taking off to defy the motions of the world and warp fate, to fight against darkness before it could truly bloom and smother, there was a part of him, deep down within the darkest recesses of his heart, that simply felt abandoned.
While Ipomoea ventured across the world and grew into himself, Somnus was left behind, inadvertently tasked with keeping the home fires burning. He wanted to assist where he could, and yet that power had been taken from his open hands. With Delumine so stagnant, leaving to follow his brother would leave the Dawn Court exposed in a terrible way, and so the Dawn King remained behind, a silent shadow who spent his days planning, anticipating, and praying.
So often did he spend his days pleading to Oriens for some kind of sign, for guidance, for help. What was left of him to do? The old ways were lost and the archaic traditions passed down since Simon the First had done nothing to help them now. In his days of silent, frantic prayer, realization came to him, followed by acceptance.
The Placeholder King.
Long ago, Somnus had claimed that to be his title when Kasil had abdicated himself from the crown. The former sovereign hadn’t found that funny, not a single bit, but back then, Somnus had hoped that the stallion would return and take the mantle back from the dunalino’s shoulders. It never happened, and so he shouldered the burden of sovereignship with grace and poise, trying to do what was best with the skills he had acquired over the years.
Perhaps the term ’placeholder’ had faded from his mind as the seasons passed, but now, staying behind as Ipomoea and Odet raced across the continent, fighting danger and ill-intention with undying light and righteous passion, the term was quick to return to his mind. His tea forgotten to grow cold within its cup, a sardonic smile pulled at Somnus’ dark lips as deep verdant eyes stared down at the scrolls upon his workstation. “Was I anything but?”
The silent inquiry echoed throughout the room, witness only to Alba who popped her beak at her companion in an admonishing way, her glare downright disapproving. ’Nonsense. You were a good and just king and served Delumine faithfully. Who else held tea in the company of Oriens on so many occasions? Who else could call Oriens a friend, and not simply their designated patron deity?’ Her beak popped once more, the tawny, dappled feathers upon her wings fluttering with indignation. ’I won’t stand for this self-depreciating spiel and neither would he, so stop it, or I’ll go and tell your wife.’
’Were’. Alba’s choice of phrase was not lost on him. They both knew that his reign was over, and they were both perfectly fine with that.
The dunalino paused, his sardonic grin quick to melt away into a peculiar frown as he lifted his head to focus upon the barn owl. Golden brows furrowed as he thought, mulling over his companion’s words. Alba was right. Releasing a heavy breath, the Dawn King pushed himself to stand with the pop and creak of joints and bones. He groaned softly, taking a few moments to regain the circulation from sitting so long. Remaining cooped up in his study for hours on end was poor for his mental health, and he knew that he needed to leave before Eulalie and Regis came looking to drag him out by force.
“You’re quite right, Alba. My apologies. Come. Shall we get some fresh air? It might do us both some good.” But as he turned to open the door with the intent on stepping outside to relish in the sun, eager to feel the warmth of the day melt his anxieties, the door clicked open to reveal a face in the hall that had been on his mind every single day since Somnus had found that letter within this very study. It still remained upon his desk, neat and folded, its crease a little more worn from where the stallion would occasionally open it up to read the words time and time again.
Ipomoea. The prodigal son had returned home at last.
The question once more flared into his mind; how was he going to react upon seeing Ipomoea again? What would he say? Their eyes met, rich emerald staring into gentle rosy depths, unable to miss the warm, adoring smile that blossomed like flowers upon his younger brother’s face. Po carried with him the scent of incense and woodsmoke, but also heat and sand. His scent was foreign from his time spent away, but beneath all of that was the familiar perfume of Delumine, of home. Somnus did not miss the tawny feather tied into the Regent’s loose tresses, just as he knew Po would not miss the blue feather tied into his own ivory hairs, and such a simple sign of solidarity, of brotherhood, of family threatened to undo him.
What would he do once Ipomoea returned home? There had only ever been one answer.
Stepping boldly forward to lessen the distance between them, Somnus swallowed hard against the emotion that formed within his throat. His raced within his chest, beating like a harsh staccato against his ribs, frantic and desperate. With as much grace and poise as he could muster, tears welling in his eyes even as he stubbornly refused to allow them to follow, the Dawn King smiled.
There was so much that he wanted to know, so many questions that vied for dominance within his mind and upon his tongue, but they could wait until after their reunion. They had both undoubtedly waited a long time for this moment, and starting with a slew of questions would only ruin such a tender, precious display.
“Welcome home, little brother. By Oriens’ name I’ve missed you.” And Somnus hugged him, tight and unyielding. “Welcome home.”
tag: @Ipomoea - Time to really get this started!
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
yesterday i was clever i wanted to change the world
F
or all his time away, Ipomoea had given little thought as to how he would return.
He had thought of home often - even a world away, even in a court filled with stars and an island born of wonders, his heart had known the way back to here - like an itch he could not scratch, thoughts of Delumine had never been far away.
But he had been gone far longer than he had intended. And while he had no doubt that he would recognize his home, he had begun to wonder if his home would recognize him.
It had been selfish, he knew, to abandon his post as Regent to take up a foreign cause a continent away. But how could he not? How could he pretend that the war against Raum was a war for Denocte and Solterra to fight alone? He could not sit by and pretend that there was no threat to Delumine, that he had no duty to help his own friends. Solterra had been his home as well, even if he did not remember it; and Denocte had always welcomed him as one of their own. He had more stake in their victory than any of them had imagined, more than even he himself knew.
The halls echo with memories; ones he remembers with vivid, painful clarity, and ones that tease him by remaining just out of reach. He had spent years memorizing this citadel, wandering its halls until they were as familiar to him as his own reflection.
It felt good to be home. Strange, but good.
It was the sound of hoofbeats ringing against the marble floor - a familiar, proud cadence - that had him taking a deep breath, as if to prepare himself. When he turns from the window he can feel his heart twist itself into knots inside of his chest, a strange mixture of joy and unease that made him feel almost weak in the knees. But he steps forward anyway, slowly, hopefully.
Somnus, as usual, does not disappoint.
His King, his brother in all but blood, his friend. Ipomoea leans into his embrace, and for just a moment lets himself feel the weariness that had settled in his bones from his journey here. His eyes fall shut, and he wills his heartbeat to ease.
“It’s good to be home,” he says softly, forcing the words out past the lump in his throat. He stays there a moment longer, taking comfort in the brotherly embrace. "I've missed you. I've missed all of you, more than you know."
But then he opens his eyes, and wills away the fatigue. Ipomoea stands up straight and takes a small step back, looking over the golden pegasus with careful scrutiny.
He almost can’t stop the questions that form at his lips, the onslaught of inquiries that demand to know how things have been, how Somnus has been, what and when and why -
But instead he forces his lips into the easy, impish smile that he reserved only for his family.
“So. What have I missed? Are the river dolphins still up to their usual antics?”
He already suspected it wouldn’t be much. The thought brings a stab of guilt with it, threatening to turn his smile into a frown, but he resists. Delumine has been quiet, too quiet; it was far too tempting to bring back all the noise of war, of injustice, of accusation. Senna and Raum had not lied when they called Delumine out on its inaction, in this war and prior wars. And when Ipomoea had silently agreed, the admission had felt more like betrayal than acceptance.
Betrayal, because they were right. Betrayal, because for as much as he loved his court, they had always done too little, too late. Betrayal, because of the self-righteousness that had clouded his judgement from the moment he left Delumine, the certainty that he knew better, that he was doing what was right. But was he right? If he was, why was it so hard to form the words that he needed to?
He swallows thickly, and asks in a voice that is far more quiet than he wants it to be:
Looking back, Somnus surmised that he shouldn’t have been surprised at Po’s softly spoken inquiry. Mentioning the pink river dolphins tugged at the dunalino’s heart strings, recalling fondly the memories he had spent by the shore to watch the swift little creatures dart and swim around in the water. Elusive they may have been, a myth to some, but Somnus had been graced by their presence on calm spring days and warm summer evenings far more often than perhaps anyone else within Novus.
His smile was genuine as he pulled back from Ipomoea, taking a moment to simply examine and appreciate that his little brother was well. No, they may not have the same blood, but family was what one made it, and he found that ever so slowly that family continued to grow.
Po seemed tired in far more than the literal sense, world weary and changed from the things he had seen and experienced, but it was still him, the beautiful man with the kindred, gentle soul, who tended to the flowers within Delumine’s gardens and thrust his heart, his passion, so completely into everything that he did. At times, Somnus wished he could take notes.
’Why Kasil picked me over you, I’ll never understand. Delumine would be a far better place if he had.’ A passing pinch to his brow was the only hint that the dark thought crossed his mind, but to cover it up the dunalino spoke, the elegance of his accent causing his words to be soft and poised.
“They are, and unlike time I feel they’ll never truly change. Beautiful and elusive, a gift to those who are blessed enough to see them.” Somnus’ smile grows, dark lips turning upwards as his emerald eyes glitter in the light shining through the windows, his features calm, relaxed, warm. Alba watched the interaction with a tilt of her head, her thoughts and opinions for once silent in the back of his mind. “Only time will tell how things progress from here, I’m afraid. The world has changed, and we must change with it.”
The peaceful, simple conversation could not last, however. There was simply too much going on for that to be the case. The world around them was changing, and Delumine had been stagnant for far too long. It was time to change, to follow the tides of time much like the dolphins that glided through the Rapax. Catching Ipomoea’s ruby eyes as the soft, almost hesitant inquiry of ’what now?’ broke the silence between them, Somnus cleared his throat and motioned vaguely for the younger man to follow.
“Come. I need to speak with you.”
Strangely enough, the stallion was calm as he turned on his haunches to begin a casual stroll through the familiar hallways of the citadel. His pulse did not race, his mind did not fray, his throat did not close. He simply was, calm, relaxed, and at peace. This was the right thing to do. Somnus had no doubts. For Delumine to prosper, action had to be taken, but it would not be him who guided their home into that more prosperous future.
They had only gone a few paces before the tactician spoke, their hooves a matching cadence upon the stone floor. ”For too long, we have been stuck. I know that you have seen it and felt it. I know that is one of the reasons why you left as you did, among others.” Now wasn’t the time to get into those motivations, however. Perhaps Somnus’ mind would always be on the home front, but call him ‘old fashioned’.
”The world is changing around us, and for far too long Delumine has followed its tradition of choosing to never pick a side. We are, after all, creatures of habit, fueled by the need to calculate our information, sort through it, and ultimately judge by the evidence acquired. What better judges are there than the ones who follow Oriens, the patron of wisdom and understanding? Avoiding brash and irrational decision, choosing instead of weigh all of our options before taking action… Those things should not be forgotten, but I believe it is time to step beyond those archaic ways of thinking and open the doors to a new age.”
They continued along their aimless wander, and occasionally Somnus would purposefully bump his shoulder, or the curve of a downy wing against Ipomoea’s side. Reassurance, understanding, affection. You are not alone. We are not alone. There was so much he wanted to say, he just hoped that Ipomoea would listen and understand.
“Unfortunately I no longer believe myself capable of leading Delumine through that door. I see now it was never my place. I did what I could for our home, for this land that I was not born in but have grown to love and cherish, loving a God who was not mine but now, I am his. I will always serve Delumine, but it needs someone far more passionate, far more determined, far more strong-willed and tenacious to lead it into a new era of prosperity and functionality.”
Verdant depths glanced to the side, catching Ipomoea’s coral eyes for only a moment. He smiled, sad yet so proud.
”Delumine needs someone who will throw themselves into a war for the sake of not only their home, but for those who need protection, for the silent voices of those with nooses around their necks who could not even cry out for help. It needs someone who won’t think twice about stepping up, about understanding the importance of knowledge and wisdom but also the importance of action.. Delumine needs someone who will not say goodbye, but instead leaves little notes in their wake and causes their brother to worry. Delumine needs you, Po. And so do I.”
”I am no longer the sovereign that Delumine needs, but you are… And I would be honored to bestow that title onto you, little brother.”
They came to a stop before a large glass window overlooking the beautiful gardens that Ipomoea had spent so very long tending to and cultivating, taking the smallest of seeds and inspiring them to grow into something beautiful. Somnus had no doubts that he would do those very things with Delumine. The seeds had been sewn, but now, it was time for them to grow.
tag: @Ipomoea - <3
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
yesterday i was clever i wanted to change the world
H
is question hangs heavily in the air between them, and he can feel the way the air itself seems to shift. It feels much heavier now, more expectant. He half expects to hear the walls utter a shaky sigh when Somnus breaks the silence.
Ipomoea glances at the window once again, where the red bird tilts his head and stares back at him. He ruffles his vibrant wings and chirps cheerfully once, as if to say go on. Something bright is twinkling in his dark eyes, a hint of mischievousness that gives him the impression of knowing more than he should, an air of surprising intelligence.
Ipomoea’s lips twitch, a ghost of a smile that vanishes as quickly as it appeared. And then he turns, and the two stallions walk alongside one another down the halls. The ring of their hooves against the marble floor matches, and their shadows are cast long and dark in their wake. Walking eases his heart somewhat, so that it settles itself into a steady, reassuring tempo, consumed in its own task. He listens to it, on the reverberations he can dimly feel in his chest, on the sound of his own pulse. And he focuses on the halls of the citadel as they pass through it, taking comfort in the familiarity, the steadfastness of it all.
When Somnus speaks, he tilts a mottled ear in the dunalino’s direction.
At first he tenses, subconsciously expecting a rebuke for his actions; he had been gone longer than anticipated, like a windblown leaf carried across the plains, unable to find its way back to the forest. Winter, spring, summer - now it was fall, and nearly an entire year had gone since Ipomoea had last been home. But it had been necessary; he was sure of it then, and time had only solidified that sense of self righteousness.
He’s practiced that response a thousand times over, and he’s ready to deliver it now - but he doesn’t. And perhaps it’s good that he holds his tongue; Ipomoea had come prepared to fight, to defend himself and Delumine.
And now, he finds that Somnus again seemed to understand without him needing to say a word.
They stop then, and he recognizes the alcove they’re standing in. He takes a breath, and turns. Light tinted green from ivy and other climbing vines pours in through the window, a curtain of green through which the gardens are visible as a splash of color. The wildflowers had faded, but oh how the trees now stood in all their glory! Each seemed crowned in fire now, the maples and aspens and dogwoods all standing proudly in their fall fashion. And among them the evergreens were all the more noticeable, groves of dark green needles accentuating the autumn tones.
Ipomoea looked, and it was a sight he had seen a thousand times over in his dreams, presented now in astonishing clarity. A vine crawled through the open window, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
“Somnus,” he said quietly, meeting the pegasus’ gaze. Green like Viride, he thinks silently to himself, and wonders how he hasn’t made that connection yet. The distance, the time spent apart, it had all made him see better. He can’t deny the truths Somnus speaks - the same he can’t deny the way his heart feels suddenly like it’s crowing, the way his mind has already accepted it as his right. As the reason why he’s come home.
He swallows thickly, and extends his muzzle out to greet Somnus in an affectionate nuzzle. There’s a sadness lingering there in his eyes, but one of knowing.
“I always thought of Delumine’s quiet as a thing of peace, and sanctuary. And so it rightfully is; but what good is a sanctuary if those in need never find it? The world begins again, my friend, and like the trees we too must change our leaves when the time comes.”
When he pulls away there is a determination in his eyes, and before he can think to stop himself he lowers himself before Somnus, and arches his neck into a bow.
“Our strength is in our roots, and I will do my best to honor Delumine. You have my word.”
A new leaf buds on the vine. Even with the cold embrace of winter lying so near, hope and life continue to grow.
He knew that it was a copious amount of information to be taken in, but Somnus would not rush Ipomoea to cycle through it all and really understand what was happening here. It was a visceral shift in the way that Delumine would function, an alteration of power, the proverbial crowning in such a complicated way. Process was necessary, but as their stare held, Somnus could see the gears shifting in the appaloosa’s head, the dawning look of realization.
He chuckled, a soft, gentle, paternal sound. It carried on through the silent hallways, but not even the warmth could cover the underlay of sadness that flowed with it.
Why did his heart feel so full, and yet so very sad? Nothing had changed, and yet everything had. Somnus had never been one to care about self-image. There would be those who would view his rule as a failure, that he had not achieved the greatness that Delumine deserved. There would be those who believed he had done his best. His name would be written in books and then ultimately forgotten, and while it was somber and heartbreaking, the dunalino knew there was so much more at work here.
This wasn’t about him. It wasn’t even about Ipomoea. It was about Delumine. Kings and Queens would come and go, but their home, this soil, it would outlive them all. Somnus had sewn the seeds in the garden. Ipomoea would nurture them and allow them to grow, and their shared legacy would be to leave the next generation of Kings and Queens with a beautiful garden to view.
As Ipomoea reached out his muzzle, Somnus’ smile waned and he reciprocated the action. Skin against skin, the dunalino inhaled deeply, letting himself memorize this moment and drown himself in Po’s floral scent. His eyes slid shut but for a moment as he tucked away every detail; the scent, the way the sun felt upon his skin as it shone through the large window, the way his heart beat slowly in his chest, a soothing, steady staccato against the leftover dredges of anxiety and dread…
Opening his eyes and pulling back only minimally, Somnus cleared his throat. He shook his head, knocking away the long strands of ivory hair from his gaze, making a mental note to have someone assist him with a trim here shortly.
The wisdom that followed and flowed from Po’s rosy lips only solidified the fact that he had made the right choice. Oriens would be proud, or so Somnus hoped. “You are quite right, little brother,” he mulled softly, turning his verdant stare to gaze longingly beyond the panes of window glass, watching the vines that crept to life beneath Ipomoea’s nurturing magic, “Know that I will not go far. Delumine is my home. King though I may no longer be, I am bound by fealty and loyalty to not only the soil of this land, but the roots we have lain. Should you ever need my council, I am here to provide it… Although I quite doubt you will need it, wise as you already are.”
The quirk of his lips only grew to show a genuine smile of white teeth, his expression warped in gentle teasing. Already the tension, the stress, the insurmountable weight and burden of Kingship had slipped away from his shoulders, and while he knew this was a new life for Delumine, it was also a new life for him. Yet he would not leave and abandon Po to his new station. That would be most unbecoming, after all, and Somnus was nothing if not a gentleman.
tag: @Ipomoea
"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self."
yesterday i was clever i wanted to change the world
M
aybe if he had stopped to listen to the flowers curling in through the open window, they would have told him what was coming. Maybe they would have told him how cold the nights had been getting, and begged him to understand that it was more than just winter brewing on their doorstep. Had he looked closer he might have noticed the scars on their leaves where the frost had gotten to them. But his eyes, as always, are turned towards the morning.
And maybe it’s good that they don’t try to tell him just yet, letting him and the dunalino have this time together. Sometimes Po is still naive enough to believe that the light of the morning sun is enough to make all the horrors of the night disappear.
Some things he needs to see for himself, the flowers whisper to each other as they pull their vines away from the open window.
Outside a cold wind is tousling their leaves, but Ipomoea is watching Somnus. His king, his brother - even if the crown changed, he would still value the pegasus’ input in all things. So he bumps their shoulders together, dark rosewood against bright poplar, and he dips his head.
“I would expect nothing less,” he tells him, feeling his heart begin to pace like something wild, something gearing up before a race. “I need you by my side, Somnus. What king would I be if I refused to learn from those before me?” He smiles at his own quip, nudging Somnus’ shoulder one last time before turning away.
“Will you walk with me? Mateo kept me updated through his letters, but I’d like to know anything else I missed while -“
His voice grows faint as they disappear down the corridor, and the flowers shiver as they watch him go. Soon, they each other again, as they wring their vines like hands and reach for the feeble morning like that has yet to warm them. Soon…
