It was a strange thing, being back in Novus. So much had changed, and yet a lot of things hadn’t changed at all. As he walked through familiar paths, Pan is struck by the thought that the faces might be those of strangers, but the land evolved with little regard to who roamed it. The same trees still guarded his cave in Rapax River. The same sea cliffs watched the same tides. And the Day Court was still a harsh and unwelcoming place (albeit a place of great intrigue for the boy, just as it always had been). A lifetime ago, Pan had come here in search of healing plants. After what seemed like days of scouring the desert, he’d emerged successful with his nightshade agave in tow. Long before even that, he’d been here after worshipping Solis, welcomed by the pious and brought before then-king Maxence. That had been when he’d called himself a member of the Dawn Court, before his vagabond heart had been set free once more. Now, Pan was free. To come, to go, to worship as he pleased. Yes, time had marched steadily on, but the lost boy remained very much the same. He knew enough of this place to draw a crude map in his mind. To the east, far beyond the mountains, he would find the seat of power here in Solterra – but not before passing through the harsh desert and sidestepping the rich oasis. It was a harsh path getting there, but Pan liked to believe he was a brave adventurer. As he quested across the endless sands, he could imagine that he was looking for secret treasures, haunted burial sites, or even a cave of wonders hidden deep in the dunes. The boy is distracted as his imagination runs wild, dodging wind-thrown sand and singing loudly to pass the time. No one was here anyway, at least by his own estimation, as he could see nothing but sand and sky for miles ahead. Pressing onward, he would stop from time to time, picking at jeweltoned beetles as they crawled lazily across the red sand, or peeking a bit too closely at the burrow holes of sleeping serpents. With a determination to find something interesting, he sidled toward the south, nearer to the oasis where he’d once encountered a curious horse-fish. But instead, he finds someone else. The stranger is little more than an approaching dark spot on the horizon, and the boy squints to get a better look, pressing forward even as Oliver chirps a warning from his shoulder-perch. Pan quiets his companion, too curious to keep himself from approaching the stranger with a hearty Hello!, his voice the only sound to pierce the silence. I… I don’t mean any harm… only after a brief pause does the boy remember that not everyone was a welcoming sort. That, and he was technically trespassing. Forcing a careful smile, he stepped closer to the approaching stranger, dipping his head a bit lower to show deference – for Pan was never looking for a fight. Only an adventure… only another step in his journey.
I SHOULD HAVE LOVED A THUNDERBIRD INSTEAD
AT LEAST WHEN SPRING COMES THEY ROAR BACK AGAIN
Despite being born and raised in Novus, Oliver had never ventured as far as the Day Court. Well, at least not alone. The solitude of the journey was something he found unnerving, despite sticking strictly to the astral direction given to him by a Delumine citizen known for trading with Solterra. As it were, Oliver had been wandering for quite some time. His journey had begun the previous night—it was safer, they said, to navigate the desert by stars—before he had realised, quite woefully, he had never navigated by the stars before.
Oliver is traversing through the seven stages of grief by the time he sees a silhouette on the horizon. He figures he is fully committed to the first stage, shock or disbelief when he jumps abruptly to acceptance and hope. First, Oliver finds it extremely difficult to believe himself truly lost and second he is quite certain the silhouette in the distance is a horse and not a mirage.
Too optimistic to conserve resources, Oliver begins to trot in the direction of the dark shape. He is more than relieved as he nears that details become clearer rather than vaguer, so that he identifies the stranger as a white horse gleaming with green scales. Before Oliver has a chance to speak, the other has already spoken—
Hello! I don’t mean any harm…
Oliver is brandishing a wide grin as he nears. “Thank Oriens for that, eh? Or—sorry—Solis. Whoever strikes your fancy, I mean.” Once he begins talking—perhaps out of relief, or simply because he hasn’t seen another horse since leaving Delumine—he cannot stop. “I was travelling to Solterra for their Autumn Fest, thinking they could use a musician or two, and… well, one thing lead to another, and I made a bet I could make it without a navigator—long story short, I’d be dead if I hadn’t found you!”
Yes, Oliver had certainly always been a man of extremes. He laughs aloud, and immediately begins another train of thought. “I’m Oliver, by the way, a performer from Delumine—some say a prodigy, but y’know—and anyways, who are you? And who’s your Bonded? I’ve never seen a critter like that before.” It never occurs to him that, perhaps, Pan does mean him harm. But such is the life of Oliver.
@Pan || "Speech" || we are way overdue for a thread! I've always loved Pan so much <3
GOD TOPPLES FROM THE SKY, HELL'S FIRES FADE, EXIT SERAPHIM AND SATAN'S MEN
It was good that Oliver had found him and not someone else. He sighed a bit of relief, knowing that in the past, his journeys into Solterra had not always been met by welcoming faces. Offering the charismatic colt a grin, he turned to show off his friend, eyes wide with delight. His name is Oliver too! Isn’t that funny? The otter seems to chirp in surprise, scurring up Pan’s neck to rest between his ears, burrowing a bit under his pale mane as he watches the stranger with curiosity. He’s called an otter, and he’s been my friend for as long as I can remember! There was a water-god called Selke in my old home, and he brought Oliver to me. Strange, that had been a lifetime ago, when the boy had begun his adventures as a brave knight for Eirhelm.
I’m Pan, by the way… and I live in Delumine too, in a cave by the river! There was a longer story involved, for sure… but the cave still seemed as home-like as anything else. Pan had been in the Dawn Court for as long as most of them, even identifying as an official member of the herd for a while, until his wanderings had pulled him to every corner of Novus.
He still worshipped Oriens, sure – but he liked to pay homage to all the gods, just as he liked to travel across all the lands, without feeling guilty for betraying his homeland. Perhaps this is why the life of a vagabond is one most suited for Pan, for his wandering heart was too wild to be kept in place. It was good that he had the freedom to roam.
I didn’t know about a festival… I just came here to gather plants. There are lots of good ones here which can be used for healing – see? As if illustrating his point, the boy drew out a crudely bound book, flipping it open to show off his sketches. While they weren’t particularly good (for Pan was far from an able artist), it was clear that he’d taken a lot of time and initiative in transcribing his findings for the healers. In his satchel, a second book lay hidden among the baubles and bits which he’d collected over time, this one stolen from Delumine’s library (permanently borrowed, more like). It was more of an encylopedic tome on plants, one which he stayed up many nights to read by candlelight, vowing to learn as much as he could about the herbs and plants which grew in Novus.
But a festival sounded a lot more fun, he decided, gathering up his papers once more and thrusting them into the bag. Can I come with you? I love festivals – and, I definitely want to hear you sing, being a prodigy and all… Eagerness shines brightly in his eyes, begging the boy’s friendship even as he falls into an easy pace beside him, ready to go where Oliver may lead, showing complete faith in the bard and his direction.
