He descended to the foothold of Denecote like a vision, glittering in splendor at the edge of Caligo's domain. The oracles and heralds of his homeland would be hard pressed to match his beauty now he has a claim to the finery he was so accustomed to once upon a time. A moonlit mirage on star scattered waters, framed with Dusk's last kiss.
Delicate white gold chains wrapped their gentle bodice around his sharp features, dripping with gemstones the colour of Vespera's ethereal visage which swayed with each slight movement or whisper of the breeze. Like them, his eyes sparkled like a many faceted jewel, alive with life and curiosity as they peered at the sharp cliff faces and unsteady looking steps, each line and curve filed away to his personal memories. A particularly strong enough breeze tousled through the tulle and silk cloak wrapped around his scaled frame, the long train rippling across the floor as it fought to remain in place, unwilling to break the serene picture he painted against nature's majesty.
The winged kirin surely looked out of place against such an unforgiving landscape, to any who happened to pass through the gateway to Denocte. The rugged walls of cragged stone threatening to snap a dainty leg or tear the expensive robe shielding him from the mountain chill, but he is unphased. Mountain's have seen his face one too many times, and he has long learned where to place his cloven hooves on unsteady mountain paths. There is a comfort to the whistling wind which caressed the thick braid of his hair which hung over a clothed shoulder and barely scraped the stoney floor. The blooming summer flowers of Terrastella and Denocte had been carefully woven into it, their perfumed scent carried into the unknown each and everytime the wind reached out to touch the petals.
Isorath is not there to be some pretty picture to be captured and committed to memory, no matter how timeless and ethereal he appeared, crowned with a halo and wreathed in Vespera's rich colours. He is there because he is curious, there is something in his mind and his chest which he cannot shake, no matter how hard he tried at morning and at dusk. Something had stuck with him that night in the storm, stood side by side with strangers bare and at the mercy of the elements.
While one part of him had wanted to push past the mountains, since few had already shown a disregard for borders and laws, he had decided against it. Better to start on the right hoof with the Night Court than a sour one, no matter how much he had enjoyed their company, once he had realized he had felt strangely at peace with so many in his presence. That had been neutral territory, this was their land, their home.
It didn't mean he had to stay there like a statue, porcelain hooves easily taking him to the edge of the cliffside road he had landed upon, each step accompanied by the soft chime of gems clinking against one another. It reminded him of Sun's Reach, and the Cliffs he had come to know in Terrastella. Dangerous but magnificent, the deadliest things the Gods and Goddesses created held a certain beauty above all others Isorath found hard to ignore.
"Beautiful." He murmured to himself, soft and full of wonder. Was the rest of Denocte like this? He hoped so, let it be full of wonder and not filled with the distrust he had heard laced in quiet whispers and eavesdropped from stories of the times before.
Reichenbach's voice sounded suddenly, low and pleasurable amidst the quiet summer day. The Night King stepped from within a surrounding glade with unnerving silence, though his bright argent gaze was friendly and his handsome face held an odd pleased expression as he stepped toward Isorath. The kirin had been an impressive sight as he picked his way down the mountain, the summer sun seeming to gather and cluster upon his pearlescent skin and golden accents. Reichenbach had seen a few pretty men in his time (had done more than see them at times) but he'd never seen one so beautiful as Isorath. The man was a delicate vision, pure and long-lashed and altogether ethereal. He'd been distracted the first time they'd met, so hadn't spent the attention he should have studying the other man, now that he was looking, really looking, it was hard to look away.
"Welcome to Denocte, Isorath."
He spoke up again, stepping forward as the deep, musical lilt of his voice lingered in the air between them. He was often found near the entrance into Denocte, not because he was afraid that strangers might enter unheeded, but because he simply preferred being in the wilderness and not cooped up at Court. While he adored the solid granite walls of the Keep and the secrets they kept, the Night King was made of open skies and crumbling embers, and rarely spent the night indoors. A slight breeze caught his wild ebony curls, sending the scent of woodsmoke and night jasmine toward Isorath and tinkling the coins tangled within the depths of his hair.
Reichenbach's sharp gaze slid to the flowers within the pale mans hair, lingering on the delicate petals of Terrastella and remembering Flora's delicate lips grazing his ear as she placed one of the sweet-smelling flowers upon him. The mingling of Dusk and Night Court flowers also pleased him - they were sister courts, really, the closest in distance and morals. He cast a look around him slowly before turning back to Isorath, asking;
"What brings you to our humble slice of the world?"
@Isorath
ew sorry this is awful, it didn't mesh well at all haha
The sudden break in the silence caused the winged kirin to start, but even such a knee jerk reaction was elegant. Thick braid swept elegantly with the motion as he composed himself, porcelain hoof once more returning to the stone it had rested upon before. His scaled neck arched gracefully to give his attention to the Monarch who approached, lilac gaze sweeping over the stallion. Where Isorath was Pretty, the other was Handsome. With hair like charcoal which against the rich mahogany of his coat, the deep silver of his eyes complimented by the glittering coins and gilded chains. One would have to be blind to not see how handsome he was.
Maybe his eyes lingered a little too long on the fine details of Reichenbach's muscular frame, but when they finally pulled away, they settled on the silver of his eyes with the same attention.
"You startled me." There's a pleasant hum of amusement wrapped around the words, a small breath exhaled before his velvet lips parted for his next words. "Thank you, I am honored to be able to gaze upon it's magnificence myself, rather than listen to the tales of my fellow courtiers." Isorath had spent his entire life within gilded halls, spiraling towers without end shaped in the image of dragons and wyverns. When he travelled, it was to other noble walls of similar design. Even when he'd left and wandered far from the lands of Vectaeryn, he had not been in the wilderness for long. He had always found himself in a Court of some kind, as an Advisor or an Emperor in his own right.
Now, he was a Sage in the Dusk Court. Ah, to be a King without a Crown.
Isorath didn't miss the scent of woodsmoke and jasmine brought to him on the wind, causing him to pause for just a moment. Yes, the scent fitted the Monarch perfectly, it'd be hard to match him to another. The flowers in his hair matched the rest of him, the purple of the daisies matching the crisp blue of the alpine forget-me-nots, bright and beautiful against the stark white of his hair. Realizing that he'd been asked a question, he was quick to compose himself one more.
"I have come to learn of Denocte, her goddess and her people. I wish to create a codex of sorts, of all the lands and their people." He answered truthfully, wings shifting beneath the silk and tulle of his cloak. "I would like to start with the Night Realm. If I am allowed, of course. I would be here for quite some time, and I do not want to be an unwelcome guest or a bother."
Reichenbach smiled warmly, at ease with the kirin despite their only brief meeting previously. Isorath spoke with the kind of respect and honour that had the Night Sovereign wishing he had chosen Denocte as his court - he would have made an excellent emissary. However, the emissary that they currently had was the perfect fit - Lothaire presented Night warily, keeping the facade that Night was an unsavoury place with an effortless grace. Not that Reichenbach didn't want the world to know how stunning and diverse Denocte was - a little bit of secrecy tended to go a long way in Novus, and there was no harm in keeping their wealth and strengths hidden beneath a veil.
"A Codex?"
He questioned, baritone voice curious and intrigued.
"Why, Isorath, if you're to be gathering information on Denocte I think you'd best meet our Champion of Wisdom, Araxes. She can assist you in finding what it is you would like to know."
There was a long pause as the dark skinned man considered Isorath, the threats that he could pose. And yet, Dusk and Night were sister courts built from the same cloth, each member of Dusk he had met so far had had honour in their hearts and little reason to hide themselves. It might go a long way to trust Isorath, with the potential to prove their own good intentions. A slight dip of his great head had it decided - he would escort Isorath to The Court of Dreams himself, going the long way of course, so as to show off the beauty that was Denocte. After that, they would find a Crow (the orphan band loyal to Reichenbach) to deliver Isorath to the guest chambers and provide him with whatever stationary he required. Then, they would find Araxes.
His warm smile never wavering, Reichenbach angled himself beside Isorath, tossing his head forwards in a wild jangle of coins and ebony curls;
