His dreams and waking hours both were haunted by the phantom agony and velvety voice of his vision. He would wake gasping, covered in sweat, with a concerned Raglan hovering over him, mint tea and a pitcher of water hovering at his side. Camdis would clench his teeth and blink, try to slow his racing heart and control his erratic breath, and shake his head at the question in his ward's jeweled eyes. It was a source of shame to the horned regent, this fear that coursed through his veins and the words that circled about his mind nearly every moment, an echo of the creature in his vision.
Questions plagued him, yet a new strength bolstered his physical form; a sort of sturdiness that coated his frame and whisked away the pain that used to grasp at his joints. Most of the stallion was convinced that the specter in his dream had been Caligo, but the skeptical portion that remained screamed that it was no more than a demon - but a demon with a voice like the void? A demon with enough power to wrench his body away from him? A demon who's entire being emanated a terrible, all-consuming power? What sort of demon could traipse about in the guise of a god?
Make it dark like the Void...
Camdis Lohir the Devout, the smallfolk had taken to calling him in the streets. The Exile King, The Holy Son... The names went on and on. Yet, despite his association with religion, with worship and love for their patron goddess, the stallion had not been to the holy mountain to speak with his god. He had been there to sully the name of Solis and attempt to make a woman's skin crawl beneath his gaze, but he hadn't been able to drag himself to that sacred precipice again. Not with the terror that dragged at his steps every time he considered that his wretched vision hadn't been a blessing but a reckoning and a curse.
What if Caligo hated him? Hated what he had done and hated who he had become? The possibility was too painful to bear.
Camdis was about to delve into that exact brand of agonizing thought when Raglan appeared between the library stacks. Brows raising, the Stained Hand rose from his place among his cushions and approached his ward. "Is it time already?" Came his murmured question - the pair had become familiar enough to forego greetings, "I hadn't even noticed." Moving down the aisle with the winged yearling at his side, Camdis shoved thoughts of Caligo and demons away; those sort of dark things had no place in the spotlight of the Court.
The pair walked through the winding labyrinth of halls and passages that made up the innards of the Nightfort in a companionable silence, moving close enough to each others' sides that Raglan's feathers would brush against Camdis' ribs every so often. Then, as the two emerged from the darkness of the keep and into the starlit open, Raglan lead the Regent across the courtyard and down the many carved steps toward the marketplace. Among the frolicking and dancing Denoctians stood their chosen king, the sight of his chocolate pelt sent a thrill down Camdis' spine and he found himself grinning. Indeed, the ruby stained stallion's smile could only grow as he and the Silvertongue Crow approached to stand at Reichenbachs right.
Dipping his head, Camdis leaned to the left to bump the sovereign's shoulder with his own in a show of friendship and camaraderie; Camdis knew that even among the children of one's own nation, a King could still feel alone.
"Looking forward to announcing a cranky old bastard as your Regent?" Came his playful greeting, silvery eyes sparkling with mirth, "Raglan promised not to gossip, but I have a feeling the Crows are already aware of my new position." Shooting a smirk at the yearling, Camdis chuckled at the ever so slight widening of his ward's eyes - the boy was a good liar, but he needed more practice at not giving himself away with silent queues.
Questions plagued him, yet a new strength bolstered his physical form; a sort of sturdiness that coated his frame and whisked away the pain that used to grasp at his joints. Most of the stallion was convinced that the specter in his dream had been Caligo, but the skeptical portion that remained screamed that it was no more than a demon - but a demon with a voice like the void? A demon with enough power to wrench his body away from him? A demon who's entire being emanated a terrible, all-consuming power? What sort of demon could traipse about in the guise of a god?
Make it dark like the Void...
Camdis Lohir the Devout, the smallfolk had taken to calling him in the streets. The Exile King, The Holy Son... The names went on and on. Yet, despite his association with religion, with worship and love for their patron goddess, the stallion had not been to the holy mountain to speak with his god. He had been there to sully the name of Solis and attempt to make a woman's skin crawl beneath his gaze, but he hadn't been able to drag himself to that sacred precipice again. Not with the terror that dragged at his steps every time he considered that his wretched vision hadn't been a blessing but a reckoning and a curse.
What if Caligo hated him? Hated what he had done and hated who he had become? The possibility was too painful to bear.
Camdis was about to delve into that exact brand of agonizing thought when Raglan appeared between the library stacks. Brows raising, the Stained Hand rose from his place among his cushions and approached his ward. "Is it time already?" Came his murmured question - the pair had become familiar enough to forego greetings, "I hadn't even noticed." Moving down the aisle with the winged yearling at his side, Camdis shoved thoughts of Caligo and demons away; those sort of dark things had no place in the spotlight of the Court.
The pair walked through the winding labyrinth of halls and passages that made up the innards of the Nightfort in a companionable silence, moving close enough to each others' sides that Raglan's feathers would brush against Camdis' ribs every so often. Then, as the two emerged from the darkness of the keep and into the starlit open, Raglan lead the Regent across the courtyard and down the many carved steps toward the marketplace. Among the frolicking and dancing Denoctians stood their chosen king, the sight of his chocolate pelt sent a thrill down Camdis' spine and he found himself grinning. Indeed, the ruby stained stallion's smile could only grow as he and the Silvertongue Crow approached to stand at Reichenbachs right.
Dipping his head, Camdis leaned to the left to bump the sovereign's shoulder with his own in a show of friendship and camaraderie; Camdis knew that even among the children of one's own nation, a King could still feel alone.
"Looking forward to announcing a cranky old bastard as your Regent?" Came his playful greeting, silvery eyes sparkling with mirth, "Raglan promised not to gossip, but I have a feeling the Crows are already aware of my new position." Shooting a smirk at the yearling, Camdis chuckled at the ever so slight widening of his ward's eyes - the boy was a good liar, but he needed more practice at not giving himself away with silent queues.
@Reichenbach
