you don’t want me to hurt you
you don't want me to bite you
A letter is delivered to Solterra on the dawn of a new day, the first of a new era.
Roosting upon the back of an empty throne, a large, imposing Phoenix -unlit, for now- waits with a letter clutched between sharp talons, keen lavender eyes piercing through anyone who dares try and wander too close.
She does not belong there. There are no records of any Phoenix living within Solterra and had not been any records for many, many years.
’What is this?’ A chamberlain asks, fearful of the implications of an ancient bird of lore looming upon the back of the King’s throne. ’Go on, shoo!’ Was it a curse? A warning?
Yet the Phoenix does not move. She sits, roosting, waiting, her head tilting and turning to those who pass by, who try and make her move, and fail every single time. Any who grow too bold are quickly chased away by the harsh kiss of a flame. The talons, long and dangerous, scratch the surface of the noble seat, where attendants will later fret over its scuffed state.
It is only when the King of Solterra arrives, a King so recently crowned, that the Phoenix drops the letter. It falls slowly onto the plush cushions of the throne, and her eyes, so intelligent, so dangerous, so knowing, pierce through the King and wills him to read what has been given.
The letter is marked with a blood-red wax seal, stamped with the imprint of a rising Phoenix atop a quarter-moon.
There is no address, no flowery greeting spilling nonsensical words meant of humbling, placating, and honoring. Some might be horrified that a letter meant for royalty would not even care to address them. The Phoenix, however, understands, and expects no less from her Chosen Child-turned-Queen.
“Congratulations on your recent ascension.
We’ve never met, but word carries quickly, especially on tongues who hold such little regard for your precious desert. I hope Solaris does not burn your kingdom down during her stay, but I can’t really be held accountable for her actions. She should behave… But then again, it isn’t her fires you need to fear.
There has been bad blood between our lands for some time. I do not know what you intend with your new seat of power or that shiny new crown upon your head, but know this; one wrong move against Denocte and its people and I will burn your kingdom to the ground. I will burn down everything you love, everything you hold dear, everything you have, and even everything you hate. I will destroy you until there is absolutely nothing left of you, and the desert beasts will pick your bones clean.
I am not afraid of you. My kingdom is not afraid of you. We will not bow to you.
Keep that in mind.
That said, I hope you do great things for a land that has been otherwise neglected and abused, time and time again. Solterra knows well the taste of violence, manipulation, deceit, and war… For your own sake, I hope you don’t plan to follow in the steps of your tyrannical predecessors.
Solaris will await your response before leaving.
Good luck,
Israfel Azardokht
A Queen of Denocte”
Still seated comfortably upon the back of the proud throne, the Phoenix, Solaris, waits.
Off he has sent the phoenix , back to her home . If anything , he has found amusement in threats and posturing from a newly crowned Sovereign in Denocte . He knows well of the affairs of the bad blood between the Courts , and has never given a damn of any of it . He had been the Champion of Battle when it had been at its crescendo before , a peak of clashing titans , then it had petered out to ash , but gnashing teeth had remained .
He had grown tired of their childish antics , himself . Of course , it was at that point he had turned his back on Novus itself , and had not seen fit to come back for a while . Even coming back had been a chore ; it had been an event of itself . Too many idle places , too much warfare . He's a creature bred for war but he has since settled since his antics under the first crown he had worn ( and shattered ) .
Even so , Novus seems full of women like Israfel , spouting their fire and their posturing , believing they can sway him or maybe make him budge or fear them in some way . But fear isn't respect . Respect doesn't come from fire and posturing , either .
But amusement can .
The letter had brought too much amusement , because he is not moved by the threatening words in the slightest , if only because he doesn't care about it . Thus , he had sent the Phoenix back with a reply of his own , to wherever she may go . He wagers likely straight to the lap of the Queen .
"Congratulations on your own ascension.
Maybe you'll find comfort in knowing I don't give two shits on the bad blood between our courts or the politics , because it was never my specialty . I never dabbled in them , wasn't ever interested . Crowns aren't new to me , neither are fancy posturing and threats , because I'm not afraid of you or much of anything .
That was the most amusing letter I've ever read .
I have no qualms , so rest your fiery head on whatever pillows you want to .
Maybe Denocte will finally rise from its own silence with you ruling it . Or perhaps make itself a little more known , instead of hiding away and cowering among the shadows , as it has before . Or setting fires to your own forests and people , as one of your predecessors was prone to doing ( which I don't recommend ) .
I plan on reviving my people , I hope you plan on doing the same . I think they've all been a little too stagnant too long , don't you ? They all need a little ... hope , isn't that what it is ?
you don’t want me to hurt you
you don't want me to bite you
Some time later, the Phoenix returns. She lingers long enough this time to catch the eyes of the Solterran King, and once more drops a letter upon his throne. Is it an insult that drives her to do such a thing, and not simply leave a letter upon the desk in the King’s study? Is it a promise? Or a threat?
It is stamped with the same blood-red wax seal; a rising phoenix cresting over a crescent moon.
This letter is simple, in its regard. Simple, to the point, and not lacking a single detail.
"Good choice.
I would like to meet you in person. I’m inviting you and an entourage of your choosing to Denocte, should you find time in your schedule.
Solaris will await your response."
The Phoenix waits, tilting her head, watching curiously beneath lavender lashes. She had not thought inviting this brute of a monarch to Denocte’s soil would be a smart move. There were many within their home that had sought shelter from these desolate lands, back when usurper after usurper had claimed the throne and caused Solterra’s people to suffer.
They had come to Denocte seeking shelter, safety, and protection, and they had found it. This king, however, should he come with ill intentions, would be entering a den of wolves, ready to pounce.
Perhaps that had been her Chosen-Child’s plan all along. Or perhaps Denocte’s Queen was planning something else, something brimming with hope.
He's beginning to wonder if he should get a bird of his own . Maybe a flock of them , if only to pester this specific bird . But he's certain if he does , she'll catch them all on fire and that would be the end of that . He could thank her for dropping the letter , rather than keeping it up in her beak , or just handing it to him . He has a feeling if he tries to reach for it from her at any given point , she might actually peck his good eye out of his skull . So dropping it on his throne is just fine with him , he doesn't really care . It isn't as if he shuts himself away to read books somewhere or anything like that . He isn't the studying type .
So instead he picks up the letter and reads over it almost lazily , head tilted , eye focusing , before he wanders off to get back to his desk with a smirk and write back . It isn't long before he's back with his own letter . There is no seal , not a proper one , because he doesn't have one made just yet . He hasn't thought that far ahead . A seal to stand for himself ? Never . He doesn't know what could represent him .
So off he lets the bird go , before taking comfort in the throne again , idly speaking with what remains of his court , so he can begin his festivities . So he can begin his hunt .
He has no fear of what he plans to do with his coronation , nor what what he has to do when he goes to meet with the Denocte Queen , by himself . He knows what he'll be stepping into , because he too , was one of those people . On the edge of Solterra . It isn't as if he himself is one of the fancy nobles that stood in gilded housing with a silver spoon . He's never been one for politics and suffering . He knows too much about the blood in the sands , too much of it his own .
He's suffered here himself .
"I think I can find the time in my schedule .
Maybe some point next week ? We'll meet then in Denocte . I'll be at the gates ."
