Voltaire
It was time. Voltaire needed to meet the king, and more than just nodding to him from a distance while pushing boulders or digging in the dirt. His steps were weary as he made his way through the desert – slowly and carefully. Already, the heat of day was stinging against him, despite the autumnal tones to the air. It wasn’t comfortable, but the blue stag was far from a creature who welcomed comfort. He didn’t deserve it, simply enough. What Voltaire did deserve, was a life dedicated to service. The healer had not yet made his mark on this place, but it was only a matter of time until Maxence recognized and came to him… so he decided to get ahead of the inevitable.
His stoic carriage did not falter as he crossed the threshold of the sandstone palace, but pressed onward. In the hallowed halls, he found their king – alone, for what seemed like the first time. As he passed beneath the red-gold arches, he stopped short of Maxence, bowing until his long jagged horn nearly brushed against the hearth. Raising his head once more, the blue stallion cleared his throat as he sought the words to speak to their king. It had been far too long since Voltaire had spoken, and his voice was rusty and harsh to his ears.
”I have come to serve.” It was a simple statement, and his shrewd icy eyes found those of the warrior king’s and held. ”What will you have me do?” For now, the chores had ended, but Voltaire’s penance had only just begun. He didn’t offer anything more, nothing personal – for Voltaire knew he was nothing more than a cog in the wheel here… and it was all he wished to be. He wanted to fade into the background, holding up his pillar but not drawing attention to himself. But still, he offered the king something of a grim smile, waiting to see what would unfold.
His stoic carriage did not falter as he crossed the threshold of the sandstone palace, but pressed onward. In the hallowed halls, he found their king – alone, for what seemed like the first time. As he passed beneath the red-gold arches, he stopped short of Maxence, bowing until his long jagged horn nearly brushed against the hearth. Raising his head once more, the blue stallion cleared his throat as he sought the words to speak to their king. It had been far too long since Voltaire had spoken, and his voice was rusty and harsh to his ears.
”I have come to serve.” It was a simple statement, and his shrewd icy eyes found those of the warrior king’s and held. ”What will you have me do?” For now, the chores had ended, but Voltaire’s penance had only just begun. He didn’t offer anything more, nothing personal – for Voltaire knew he was nothing more than a cog in the wheel here… and it was all he wished to be. He wanted to fade into the background, holding up his pillar but not drawing attention to himself. But still, he offered the king something of a grim smile, waiting to see what would unfold.
Day Court Caretaker
@Maxence
