Helios had learnt since the golden man’s ascension to the throne, that it was not uncommon to find him and his maned companion upon the parapets themselves. At first it had taken some getting used to- seeing the pale lion wandering the walls- but he had slowly stopped that defensive instinct upon seeing the predator and had become used to the King’s companion’s presence in the City. The russet steed couldn’t deny Ariel’s majesty and often wondered what it would be like to charge into battle with such a fearsome creature by his side. One day, maybe, he’d have a companion of his own.
Alert as he is, Helios spots the palomino form of his King along with the giant feline before Orestes’ voice breaks the quiet of the summer morning. With a respectful bow of his head the Black Sun greets the marked steed and his bonded. “King Orestes.” The stallion dips his head a second time at the Sovereign’s request and follows the steed, content with the silence even if his mind searches for something to say. During Zolin’s reign and indeed those of the Sovereign’s that followed him, Helios had been but a cog in their machine, a faceless soldier. And that was how it should be- he was a servant of the realm, not someone to meet with its leader. But since Orestes had assumed the throne, Helios had found himself approached by the King more than once.
He had been sceptical about his Triskema suggestion at first, yet the solider found himself leaping at the chance to be something more. His experience gave him a unique perspective on Soltera, beyond that of a nobleman or courtier and the stallion had been, and still was, intent upon using that experience to serve his home. Yet consulting his Sovereign, chatting with the King as though he were a comrade rather than his ruler was something the fox-pelted man still had not gotten used to.
“I am fine, thank you Sir. Since the Teryr attack I thought it pertinent to increase patrol in case there is another threat.” Formality laced Helios’ every word, delivered in a serious though respectful tone as he dared little more than a quick, respectful glance to the golden stallion beside him. Beneath Zolin’s reign he had been taught to treat the leader of Soltera with reverence, as though he were but one seat below Solis himself. It was something the Pegasus could not unlearn. Yet his mind whirled, despite the stoicism of his appearance. Should he ask Orestes how he was fairing after the attack? “You…fought well during the attack, your Majesty,” he finally offered, perhaps a little more formerly and awkwardly than he’d intended.
@Orestes <3
