KING OF STARS AND SMOKE
It's a cool night for spring, though Reichenbach's blood always ran hot and the cold rarely bothered him. The previous night had gone well, with Aislinn and Isorath ascending to their proposed positions — a comforting thought for The King of Stars and Smoke. They were a powerhouse now, what with all three of their warrior skills and Aether, along with the loyalty of his deadly Crows. His family, growing larger by the day. The thought brought a smile to his black lips, his argent gaze scanning the forest ahead.
He'd followed Aislinn, guiltlessly, from the City. They had not had the chance to speak about her new position — and whether she was glad of the title or not. He had not thought that she might be trailing that faint scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke, the tell-tale mark of the famed Rahilah. He'd heard so many stories, had been fascinated and had even tried to find the fabled wandering herd in his youth. They were... history, culture, the salt and earth of Denocte and Calligo's land.
No Sovereign had entered their camp in as long as he could remember, and he had not thought himself worthy after all those years of searching. She had paused ahead and Reichenbach drew forth, his presence easily recognisable by the tinkling of his coins, always entwined within his ebony curls.
The scent of woodsmoke and jasmine followed him faithfully, stretching familiar fingers out to Aislinn. Whether that scent comforted or displeased her, he didn't know anymore. Regardless, he would stand beside her. He did so now, stepping forward slowly, argent gaze also focused on the tendrils of pungent smoke.
He slid his eyes to her silently, asking;
”Together?”
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