The gates were closed, and behind them were his mother, his brother. The gates were locked, and Araxes stayed behind, but Cynix refused to be trapped by his own court, by his own regime. For 'safety' they had said, yet he never felt more unsafe in a land when there were others that whispered sharp words behind his back and glared daggers in to him.
Old prejudices were surfacing again, and he had left them behind. He refused to sink in to that again.
So instead, he stepped forward, finding himself once more in the hold of the Dusk Court. It was a place he found that no one stared at him, and maybe.. perhaps, better than home. He felt a bit strange, really, but he found it comforting, and he stepped himself forward, wings fluttering on either side of his head.
Comfort rolled over him, and he turned his head, his mane fluttering as he walked, the braids brushing against him, rubbing over his nape, his side. He wasn't sure who he would bump in to here, perhaps Asterion once more? Perhaps a new face? Either way, maybe he could find someone that could grant him temporary sanctuary within these walls. At least until things cleared up between Denocte and Solterra.
He didn't want to be involved in it any longer.
@ any! || okay so Cynix feels safe here and yeah
05-05-2018, 10:00 PM
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Odeen [PM] Posts: 175 — Threads: 29 Signos: 1,315
Raymond had no time for prejudice - nor, in this case, the knowledge of his surroundings to develop such small-minded thinking. A careless horse who surrounds himself with others like himself might still be undone by them, and even the most deeply-entrenched enemy might willingly offer the key to victory, so the red stallion did his best to treat everyone as people first and worry about all the ugly details later.
His mind was more occupied in familiarizing itself with the rather alien (to him, anyway) customs of Court life, with the natural comings and goings of individuals whose habits layered over one another to weave into the Dusk Court a breathing, bleeding network of normalcy. This was civilization as had been dreamed of by the dal'rend in his youth, that he had first pledged himself to protect and nurture into being.
Would it have been worth it? Hard to say.
The red stallion was something else now, a chameleon of character whose customs were largely borrowed and regularly traded for those that might best suit him to his environment. He would don the courtly ways if it pleased his compatriots, but would always prefer to sleep in silence under the open sky.
But someone there amongst the hustle and bustle drew comfort from the goings-on within the court. Raymond knew enough now that he recognized the colt as other, either by scent or bearing, and was drawn immediately toward the night-spotted boy.
The thought of waiting for his presence to be permitted never even crossed the swordsman's mind.
"Good evening!" Raymond said, tipping his head good-naturedly forward. "Not from around here, are you? Neither am I, in a manner of speaking." His confidence seemed effortless, unflappable - the kind of charm that would let a man stroll past security with a smile and a wave - and instantly relatable. To him, everyone was valuable and it showed. He did not have to put on airs.
"I assume you didn't get here the way I did," he continued. The way it rolled off his tongue, the words formed a question rather than a statement.
Raymond. and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
Wandering through the crowds and not drawing attention like he would in Denocte was largely a relief for the boy, soon to be man. There were no glares or venomous whispers, merely curious stares and murmurs of him being from Night and visiting. It was nothing to really visit other Courts, but he supposed that some of the foals wondered just where he was from, why he looked a bit strange with wings on his head and braids in his hair. That, at least, Cynix could handle.
If prodded, Cynix would admit that he startled slightly at the sudden boom of a voice directed at him, a greeting that had his hooves skidding slightly on mortar as his wings fluffed out in alarm on his head, shedding off a feather or two before tucking in once more out of embarrassment. Rather than look sheepish, a smile drew itself on his lips, and Cynix lifted his head an inch or so, not to look as if he were cowering.
"Good evening!" he called back, though his own voice was still tripping over itself in terms of depth. "I am not, I come from Denocte, just.. visiting." Though he would seek sanctuary here, more than anything, that didn't mean he had to bring up such dire news at the moment. He could stuff the thoughts away for the time being and instead smile and laugh a little. A nice change of pace, compared to the unsettling turn of events back home.
"I have to admit, I wandered here," Cyn noted, smiling a little more. "I'm Cynix. I haven't seen your face here, but then again, this is only my second time here."
Raymond's eyes glinted at the painted colt's startlement. The flustered fluttering of wings atop his head posed a comical contrast with his heavy if partially-cooked build, but Raymond was not the sort to amuse himself at the expense of strangers. He took the young visitor's quick recovery to heart and beamed back without missing a beat, sparing him the stress of even a moment's embarrassment.
He spoke of Denocte, a name Raymond had heard spoken with more than a little tension, which only served to make both his presence within the walls of Dusk Court and his good-natured grin all the more intriguing. Was he here to enjoy their company or to avoid something? Did he know what happened, or was ignorance bliss as the saying goes?
Nothing happens in a vacuum, after all.
"Not surprising; I've only just dropped in," the red stallion replied, his choice of words perhaps uncomfortably accurate given the events that led him to Novus. "Name's Raymond." His tail tilted automatically in an amiable greeting, then in a sweeping motion he turned to join Cynix at his side, bright eyes sweeping the court's controlled chaos with energetic interest.
"Isn't this fascinating?" he continued conversationally, indicating the steady hum of activity before them as their presence as relative outsiders went largely unmarked. The pair of them were not part of the microcosm. How freeing is that? "Call me rustic, Cynix, but where I came from even the ground we walked on seemed allergic to anything permanent. But you seem pretty comfortable in places like this, yourself; I'm jealous."
Was he? Probably not really - Raymond liked his freedom too much to set his roots deeply enough in court life that he could not simply rip them up and move on again when the winds shifted, and a night spent under the stars and open air was worth the luxury of a hundred sheltered beds. He wouldn't admit as much (he never admitted anything, if he could help it) but at the very least his appreciation for the artful dance of soldiers, courtiers, and commoners brushing shoulders with one another as they went about their lives was perfectly genuine. He wondered if Denocte was similar.
Raymond. and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
Well, that certainly did explain it, that this man was new in the lands. Cynix only knew a bare handful though from around here, from those that were seen and glanced when he had wandered in at a time. The boy -- soon to be man -- hoped that perhaps he could find a place here while the proverbial storms between courts were kicking up, to take shelter from it all and find comfort somewhere.
Pushing the thoughts away, he was given a name, and his lips split in to a warm smile as he looked over the rest of the crowd, the hustle and bustle of Terrasellians making their way around their day. This place, the court itself, was ridiculously busy, but he found he enjoyed people watching in some loose form of the term. It passed the time, and he could learn about their lives by what they sought out, what their idle chatter pointed to.
"Quite so. It's so lively here," Cynix admitted, his voice taking on a tone of awe more than anything else. Denocte was likely the same, a hive of activity, but he never stood aside to watch merely because he knew what glares would be aimed his way. He spared himself, in that sense.
Flicking a wing -- and an ear -- he turned his head to look at the red man beside him, offering a smile as he let out a soft laugh. "I was born in the court life, so this is more like home than the less built lands would be. I have to say, I'm envious though, of the wandering life. Maybe that's why I don't seem to sit well in one place for too long. I always seem to go somewhere." Of course, his hooves would lead him to Courts and others, more populated lands than anything, but he was always on the move.
Raymond guarded his freedom jealously, and though he was unaware of the isolationist theater unfolding to the east I can say with perfect confidence as the author that he would have taken his leave as well had he shared Cynix's position - only permanently, and with perhaps more extreme prejudice. He had yoked himself to someone else's lofty and far-reaching ideology once with disastrous results. From then on, the tantalizing allure of patriotism and ideological warfare became a tool to be exploited rather than a means of self-discovery.
He would never again throw himself upon a sword for a cause that was not his own.
Cynix spoke fondly of wandering and the red stallion allowed himself to smile. It was the nature of many a young horse to yearn for big skies and the open road - perhaps a vestige of horses' nomadic roots, perhaps a thread of indomitable curiosity bubbling in the hearts of those with potential for greatness.
"Ranging has its benefits, but it's a hard path to walk."
Raymond's pride had steadied his feet until the Journey became the last option left, but he too remembered staring out at distant horizons and aching to see what lay beyond them. Now, having no home of his own and being too old to ever fully accept one, he could not wholly decide whether to envy or scorn those that had grown up and grown old with such stability.
"Are you not satisfied living in Denocte?" he asked softly, puzzlement wrinkling his brow as he tilted his head toward the colt. There was no indictment in his voice, though perhaps a more insecure horse might choose to prickle unnecessarily at his word choice. But it was one thing to suffer the itch of wanderlust, especially as an eager colt with a long and storied life left to live, and entirely another to set out on a journey.
Raymond. and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
Cynix mused that it was likely extremely difficult; journeying like that was done alone most of the time, if he could recall that fact correctly. It was part of the charm though, supposedly, wasn't it? He wouldn't be able to stray to isolated places, not really. He'd have to wander to places where others resided, perhaps stay a day or two, and move on to the next, if he ever took up such a path.
Stirring out of his thoughts, his wings adjusted, and Cynix felt the looser feathers dropping, a result of his summer molt. There were only one or two missing, though there were new ones already regrowing in their place, shorter than the rest but nonetheless there, sticking out a small pin feathers. Blood feathers. He had to be wary lately about flapping too hard, or clipping his wings, not wanting to risk the bleed. "Lately.. no. I was never really.. welcomed there." His shoulders rolled in to a shrug and he tried to smile about it.
"It is a home, but not one I really ever... learned to let myself enjoy. There was too much animosity with Solterra and Denocte and... my brother and I were born in the middle of it." He drew in a breath and let it fizzle from his lungs with a soft sigh, and an awkward smile. "And here I am, babbling about it to you." Cynix merely shook his head at himself and his own actions, though he supposed it helped to offer some sort of context about the situation.
"Recently however, Denocte decided to put up its gates and keep itself isolated. I didn't want to stay trapped, so here I am, in Terrastella. Hoping to rest my head for a while." At least until Denocte regained its senses once more.
The red stallion listened with the respectful engagement of a therapist in session. Cynix may not have been the only youth he'd met with a rocky start, and he'd be a sentimental fool if he expected him to be the last, but children deserved to be children. The ugly underbelly of reality was not for them to wallow in just yet.
That was one of very few things about which he felt strongly, though the disappointment revealed itself only in the subtle tightening of his jaw. He didn't begrudge the painted boy an undoubtedly rare opportunity to shed some light on the stress boiling just beneath the surface of his skin.
Plus, in the process, he'd shed a fair bit of light on the current political temperature of Novus - and it sounded like Cynix was not the sole horse dealing with some shit at the moment.
Raymond let silence slip between them as he chose his next words carefully, his voice carrying with it a novel sort of gravity. "Measuring your worth by the approval of others will only bring you misery. I know nothing about the strife between Solterra and Denocte of which you speak, or of what you have to put up with, but if you are confident in your own path then those worth your time will recognize your potential without being asked."
He'd had to nurture such an attitude when he'd burned his bridges. There is no place where he was born for what he had become, and a slinking vagabond is friend to no one. Waltzing from place to place as though he belonged there had been a matter of personal survival.
"And if anyone gives you trouble while you're here, I'll kick their ass and beg Florentine's forgiveness later."
Raymond. and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
Dusk felt far friendlier than Night ever was, and Cynix wondered if he should shed his Denoctian coat and don the one of Terrastella. It was a shame to think of it, leaving behind his mother so abruptly, but certainly she would understand? It would be healthier for him to move out of a place that held so much negativity in his past. Even now, he was certain that if he returned, he would feel the eyes on him.
Shaking his thoughts away, the coral eyed boy merely turned his head a little to look at Raymond curiously, ears flicking atop his head as his stance settled in to something far more relaxed. "I... don't look for their approval, but having them look down their noses at me isn't the best feeling. I don't want that."
The promise sent a wave of bubbling laughter up from his gut and out from his mouth, his eyes softening as he looked over the mulling market once more. "Who knows, maybe I will join Terrastella. Are there sages open?"
Though... the thought of leaving, and leaving behind Raglan? They had only found each other once again, and he couldn't do that to the dear Crow.
Raymond. and at his feet they'll cast their golden crown
when the man comes around
"Well then. You'll just have to start looking down your nose at them right back, won't you?" Being an outsider had its perks, in that Raymond had rarely gotten familiar enough with others for them to be able to develop more than a first impression of them. It was very easy to scoff at disdain leveled at a stranger, because such things meant nothing, but dealing with the disapproval of family and compatriots he imagined would sting a fair bit more.
After a beat, he stepped back and turned halfway toward Cynix, a subtle disengagement. "Unfortunately I wouldn't know. I'd ask Florentine, if that's really the way you want to go. Whatever you choose, make sure you can live with the decision."
He tipped his tail blade in a friendly adieu, knowing that the colt would have quite a bit now to think on, and turned to melt seamlessly into the hustle and bustle of the court's beating heart.
