and horror in the halls of stone
The city has been quiet as of late. He recalls the day Orestes disappeared vibrantly, vividly. Jahin had risen with the first rays of a grey dawn, as per his usual routine. He remembers the day vividly because the morning had been unusually cool and he had felt the chill deep in his bones. He had felt cold, stiff, and old upon rising from his straw matt. He’d stepped onto his balcony, sipping the black Day Court coffee he had discovered in the market some time ago and watched the sun crest the dark horizon with Sahar curled on his back. Mist had lingered throughout the city and the air had smelled of rain, but the sand remained dry and parched as ever. He waited on Orestes’ instructions, usually delivered by the same mouthy, bratty page with tangled hair, but the boy never arrived. Jahin, ever a creature of habit, had felt deeply perturbed by this unexpected interruption in routine.
He had wandered the halls next, hoping to capture a glimpse of that lion’s tail disappearing around a corner, but he never came across the golden pair. He wandered the city next, for Orestes was a man of the people and could often be found interacting and speaking with his adoring citizens.
But it was as if Orestes had simply vanished.
That had been some time ago. The city was quiet these days even though they were on the cusp of a beautiful spring after a long, drawn out winter. Not that winter really changed anything much in Solterrra, but the spring always brought renewal and rejoicing, celebrations and busier marketplaces. Now the city held its breath, waiting for another to take Orestes’ place, although Jahin really didn’t figure anyone would be able to replace Orestes.
He had been a good king, a fair king. The city was feeling the lack of Orestes' reign heavily. Some vendors had closed down, fearing looting and anarchy in the absence of a sovereign and others feared the ghost of Raum. Orestes had kept the shadows of Raum’s old followers quelled and suppressed, but with Orestes absent, some feared the return of a dark and terrible power.
Jahin patrolled more and more, spurred on by the uncertainty and unsrest brewing in the Day Court. Not many folk knew him or recognized him as Regent, but scheduling patrols in the busier hubs of the city and making a regular presence with soldiers did seem to ease the anxiety of local citizens. There had been no looting, only harmless acts of criminal mischief...graffiti on the palace walls, Where is our king? Who will rise? Instead of breaking into anarchy, the city remained as if under a sleeping curse. Living, breathing, but waiting for someone to break the spell. Waiting for a king.
Jahin’s concern right now is not the crown, but rather ensuring Solterra’s borders. Without Orestes, they are weak and vulnerable and Jahin is not one to trust outsiders or other kingdoms to take advantage of Solterra’s vulnerabilities. Today, Jahin is on his regular patrol plan, Davke spear at his side and Sahar curled on his back hissing softly, working his way through the winding streets of Solterra. He’s surprised when he hears the gates opening as it’s too early for the border patrol to be returning.
Shouldering his spear, he approaches the two individuals warily. She is certainly a striking creature, with scales of glittering gold and jeweled blue eyes that are as flinty and sharp as a winter ice storm. He does not miss the intensity in her gaze, nor the rigid way she holds her body. A warrior, he thinks. What is her purpose here? She does not smell of Solterra...but rather as if she has come from the sea. There is a hint of cool ocean salt in the air, stark in contrast to the sand and sweat on Jahin’s own skin.
The other individual is tall and handsome, lithe and easy in his movements, speaking of a grace that can only be mastered by training and experience. Perhaps also a warrior. His voice is soft and inquisitive, inquiring on the welfare of the scaled woman with fierce eyes. His eyes too are blue, but they are like the swelling of the sea on a calm day, deep and vast and tranquil. His skin is soft and unmarked, reminding Jahin of the old marble statues littered around the city, remnants of a beautiful, regal civilization long gone. Jahin comes to a stop, shifting his spear closer at hand. He is not particularly concerned by their presence, but it never hurts to be prepared. “State your business, strangers.”
J A H I N
look at last on meadows green
and trees and hills they long have known
He had wandered the halls next, hoping to capture a glimpse of that lion’s tail disappearing around a corner, but he never came across the golden pair. He wandered the city next, for Orestes was a man of the people and could often be found interacting and speaking with his adoring citizens.
But it was as if Orestes had simply vanished.
That had been some time ago. The city was quiet these days even though they were on the cusp of a beautiful spring after a long, drawn out winter. Not that winter really changed anything much in Solterrra, but the spring always brought renewal and rejoicing, celebrations and busier marketplaces. Now the city held its breath, waiting for another to take Orestes’ place, although Jahin really didn’t figure anyone would be able to replace Orestes.
He had been a good king, a fair king. The city was feeling the lack of Orestes' reign heavily. Some vendors had closed down, fearing looting and anarchy in the absence of a sovereign and others feared the ghost of Raum. Orestes had kept the shadows of Raum’s old followers quelled and suppressed, but with Orestes absent, some feared the return of a dark and terrible power.
Jahin patrolled more and more, spurred on by the uncertainty and unsrest brewing in the Day Court. Not many folk knew him or recognized him as Regent, but scheduling patrols in the busier hubs of the city and making a regular presence with soldiers did seem to ease the anxiety of local citizens. There had been no looting, only harmless acts of criminal mischief...graffiti on the palace walls, Where is our king? Who will rise? Instead of breaking into anarchy, the city remained as if under a sleeping curse. Living, breathing, but waiting for someone to break the spell. Waiting for a king.
Jahin’s concern right now is not the crown, but rather ensuring Solterra’s borders. Without Orestes, they are weak and vulnerable and Jahin is not one to trust outsiders or other kingdoms to take advantage of Solterra’s vulnerabilities. Today, Jahin is on his regular patrol plan, Davke spear at his side and Sahar curled on his back hissing softly, working his way through the winding streets of Solterra. He’s surprised when he hears the gates opening as it’s too early for the border patrol to be returning.
Shouldering his spear, he approaches the two individuals warily. She is certainly a striking creature, with scales of glittering gold and jeweled blue eyes that are as flinty and sharp as a winter ice storm. He does not miss the intensity in her gaze, nor the rigid way she holds her body. A warrior, he thinks. What is her purpose here? She does not smell of Solterra...but rather as if she has come from the sea. There is a hint of cool ocean salt in the air, stark in contrast to the sand and sweat on Jahin’s own skin.
The other individual is tall and handsome, lithe and easy in his movements, speaking of a grace that can only be mastered by training and experience. Perhaps also a warrior. His voice is soft and inquisitive, inquiring on the welfare of the scaled woman with fierce eyes. His eyes too are blue, but they are like the swelling of the sea on a calm day, deep and vast and tranquil. His skin is soft and unmarked, reminding Jahin of the old marble statues littered around the city, remnants of a beautiful, regal civilization long gone. Jahin comes to a stop, shifting his spear closer at hand. He is not particularly concerned by their presence, but it never hurts to be prepared. “State your business, strangers.”
look at last on meadows green
and trees and hills they long have known
@
