How he had managed to slip into the court of night unapprehended was beyond him, in fact, he wondered if there was but a single warrior to protect the citizens; the cover of night was all he had needed to slip past the sleepy buildings and perhaps even Calligos watchful eyes. The lion inspected the walls and the cobblestone, admiring the vegetation that made their home upon the window panes and thrived over the stone. No such thing could be seen in Solterra where the sand choked every living thing. The slightest ounce of jealousy rumbled within as Maxence slipped along the walls, pacing quietly until he reached the vast door of their cathedral-like structure.
First he observed the sleepy building and all the lights within, primarily wondering which window might belong to the chamber of the king. moments later he began his summons, not caring that it was long past midnight and that the stars were all they had left for company.
"Reichenbach!" Day bellowed to Night, though he had little to no expectation that Yin would recognise Yang. "I await" was his second boom, this time slipping form his lips only as he turned upon his haunches and pressed on back the way he cam,e hoping that the echoes of his footsteps upon the cobblestones would be enough to allert the soverign in where the commander was headed.
Maxence would not allow himself to be surrounded by a whole court of enemies. He was one among twenty, perhaps thirty potential enemies, so it was with nought but wit that he trailed back out of the court walls to the nearby meadow where he stood in wait, facing the vast nightscape to the north where home lay.
Maxence may have thought he had been unseen and un-followed - but within the confines of Calligo's embrace, the desert warrior was out of place, a beacon in the shadows. It was not only Reichenbach's silver eyes that followed the path of the muscular general, but many, many others. Had the Sovereign of Day Court seen how many eyes were choking him as he stood, he would have realized his vast misjudgment of the Night Army.
No, they were not a straight-edged, perfectly formed legion that followed commands as one - not a Solterran army bound by constraints and order. They were nothing the commander had likely ever seen. The Denoctian Army was something far more terrifying, a chaotic force that left destruction caused by many hands. They had skills and talents upon the battlefield beyond what the Solterrans could imagine. Not traditional, but futuristic, fantastic, both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
And the Solterran King thought they would let him walk into Denocte unnoticed.
So let the Solterran leader sneer at their army - let him underestimate the power that lay in shadows and technique, variations and differences, let him underestimate the power of freedom.
Reichenbach himself was not in the chamber that Maxence had bellowed to - he was within the shadows of the surrounding keep, merged and almost invisible within Calligo's embrace, watching through cold, long lashed eyes. It was true the Sovereign of Denocte was emotional - he had been touched with Calligo's tempestuous nature, her inability to properly control the emotions that ran rampant through their veins. It was not good news for Maxence, for Reichenbach did not, could not, see the theft of Rostislav from a political angle. He was too embroiled in the nature of the theft - and it was perhaps a good moment for their Emissary to join the party. Lothaire's cool, calculated intelligence and sense would benefit The Night King here.
Alas, Lothaire was nowhere close enough to summon, though Reich had sent one of the younger Crows to find him.
So in a strained attempt to cool his roiling temper, Reichenbach slipped from the shadows, almost a shadow himself, to stand a few paces away from the foreign ruler in their midst. As if sensing the hot anger within his wildfire veins, Calligo seemed to send a wash of cool through him before he spoke, his argent gaze glowing bright and sharp against Maxence's mottled skin.
"Why have you come?"
Was his only question, restraining the parts of him that wanted to punch one white knuckled fist into the middle of Maxence's gruff, handsome face. The voice that slipped from between his black lips was not the usual charming, jovial thing that had boys and girls alike swooning, but a voice of barely controlled temper, brittle and dangerous. This was the King Crow that was rarely seen, the shadowy force that was feared and respected, the King that would stop at nothing to right the wrongs done to his people.
take care to bury all that you can
take care to leave a trace of a man
☩
Reichenbach's gaze had begun to burn the Sun King's back to cole and yet still the King of night was met with the roaring face of a lion, turquiose stones for eyes mounted in a perpetual roar of fury upon it's slayers rump. As this alternate pair of eyes stared backwards they witnessed the bay king of moons and stars whisper a growling question, one that even caused Maxence to truly think.
A breath left the stag's nostrils, leaving in a gentle buff of mist that crept off into the clear night above, and it was a few moments later that Maxence returned the Night King's quiz with a slightly childish one of his own.
"Why do you think?" he whispered, not deigning to cast his gaze upon the moon king until he was certain that he was not surrounded by one hundred others. Still there was doubt within the Commander's mind as to whether he would ever return to Solterra again— or if he'd ever see Adotya again.
Either way Maxence's life was—for the most part—in the hands of the stranger from the south.
But he was not ready to die.
Turning upon his haunches in calculated steps, Maxence turned to face his nemesis with eyes of steel and skin of dragon's leather. It would be clear to any who witnessed the decorated commander that he was a hero and a villain, a saviour and a perpetrator. "Rostislav," Maxence begun, another wild and silken breath leaving his mouth and slinking skyward "He was of the day court before the gods returned to this place. A coincidence that he left as soon as order grasped Solterra and fled to Caligos court? I think not." The warrior strode two steps forward to meet Reichenbach, now but a few feet from the man. "There are crows in Solis's land. I can feel them watching from the battlements and raking their claws over the Mors. Rostislav may be innocent, but when I find the one you're hiding in my ranks I'll strap him to a rock and let the vultures have their full"
It would have been all too easy to swathe the Sun King in shadow, to shackle him and poison him with that same venom they had used on his Warden. Maxence would be a difficult opponent - that much was known. There was an air to him that said he was aware of each brush of Calligo's night against his mottled coat, aware that, though he could not see them, Crows and Denoctians alike lingered and watched the foreigner in their midst. Maxence was no fool - though he had acted like one when he had stolen Rostislav without considering the repercussions.
Why do you think?
Came his hissed voice through the night, prickling the tense hair behind Reichenbach's muscular neck. Finally the King of Solterra faced him, his eyes glinting like blue steel through the darkness. Solis' chosen. Reichenbach fought the urge to peel his black lips from his teeth as he met the mans gaze, flames coiling like snakes within his muscles, his gut, the shadows cooling and soothing even as he flashed a dangerous grin at the mention of Rostislav.
That smile continued to grow, amused and lethal as Maxence spoke. The light caught on his bone-white teeth, his usually pleasant expression marred by a devastating cruelty. When his voice emerged for the second time, it was soft:
"You think to justify stealing, drugging and shackling an innocent man for his choice of deity?"
He did not blink. The promise of violence shone in his silver-eyed smile.
"Here is my promise to you Maxence. If you, or any of your kind, lay a Solis-burned finger upon any of the Children of Night without their consent, it will be your body the vultures pick at."
take care to bury all that you can
take care to leave a trace of a man
☩
Maxence would not spare Reichenbach hardly another second to speak when the bay spoke of justification, and instead the Night King would be met with a stomp of a split hoof and a booming voice. "NOTHING justifies the barbarism of poison, the violation of theft and the humiliation of shackles. It was under no order of mine that Rostislav was met with such devices, but I certainly do not pitty him. In the same breath, what reason can you give for placing spies in an already hostile land?" Maxence had belted in reply, lashing his words with the same power as the bullwhip upon his harness. "The day your spies and their plots and schemes bring harm to my people, it will be Denocte's last. It was for that reason that Rostislav was taken. You paint a vulgar picture, you seem determined to mark me as a Solterran savage, but I did this for my people just as you do your bidding for yours"
The return of a threat was received without protest and without a bark or fight. Instead his cold eyes met with the webbing lashes of night and sought a nod of mututal understanding, because all in all that was all Maxence desired. "Withdraw from Solterra" he spoke clearly, plainly, and again without bite. "I do not wish to be your enemy just as much as you should not wish me to be yours."
With these words the northern king turned and opened his wings, preparing for take off and the long flight home before he carefully whispered another warning.
"The day a crow bites the hand that feeds it, it will be it's last"
There hummed a fierceness in the air, a clashing of wills that echoed silently throughout Calligo's dark, an understanding that was forcibly given to The Night King as Maxence's clear voice sounded. He knew, Calligo-damn it, he knew Maxence was not bad in character - that had he been the one to snatch Rostislav it would have been a clean theft. There were many questions left in the air - many choices that could have been made differently.
And as the sweep of Maxence's vast wings blew the ebony curls back from Reichenbach's silver eyes, there lay the steely glint of understanding. Perhaps not forgiveness - but not hatred either, not blind fury. They had each placed pieces upon the chess board, but not all players in their game could be controlled. Their's seemed to be an ancient clashing, the endless thrash of Night against Day, Day against Night.
Reichenbach pondered this coolly as he watched Calligo stroke moon-spun lips along the tip of Maxence's wing, kissing the militant leader as he left her boundaries.
take care to bury all that you can
take care to leave a trace of a man
☩
The sand snake waited for a remark, a final complaint, a last word - when he was given nothing to recant or bark back to, his eyes turned toward the sky once again. Maxence though of Caligo and her wishes, and then of Solis and his. Were the siblings quarrelling in the heavens as their sovereigns did? Or did they watch in amusement, criticising the childish actions of two mortals beneath the cloud cover.
As he watched the sky and it's glittering stars, beholding the wonder that Caligo had created, Maxence had one last thing to say. "Caligo chose well" he uttered, almost breathlessly to the one who was chosen to lead the Denoctians.
Maxence would be lying to himself if he could not see merit in Reichenbachs actions, but keeping spies in his court? What on earth had he done to deserve that. The land whithered and wasted, it's people surviving only on rations— and one of them diserved no more than a cell, let alone meals and shelter. What Solterran's owned they worked for, shared, and blessed with toil and blood. Whoever slipped into their midst and stole rations from the mouths of true Solterrans would pay the price.
Fraying his wings skyward it was only a few beats of those eagle pennons before the northern king was somewhere else— gaining altitude toward the stars, sending wishes their way.
Slipping from the shadows that hovered about the edges of the chamber, Raglan approached the First Crow, keeping a casual distance between his feathered wings and the sovereign's side. The silence stretched between the pair as they watched the silver limned silhouette of Solis' chosen grow smaller and smaller, soon becoming nothing more than a dark speck skimming the horizon. It had been an interesting meeting, the vastly different yet vastly similar rulers of opposing courts conducting a battle of wills within Calligo's blessed realm. The air fairly crackled with the energy that had thrummed between the two and Raglan was thankful for his decision to stay hidden - he wouldn't have wanted to be at the receiving end of either of the glares that the Kings had been shooting at one another.
Swishing his silken silver tail against his hocks and shifting his pale hooves upon the marbled floor, Raglan heaved a sigh of relief as Maxence's form finally slipped from view. Briefly, he wondered if the Crows needed to pull Raum from his assignment in Solterra - if the Quicksilver spy knew that he had been all but discovered. Pursing his lips, Raglan's mind began to race, wondering if he should establish another set of eyes within the walls for the sole purpose of raising the alarm if Raum was to go to trial - or worse, go missing among the sand stone walls of that sun drenched fortress.
Yes, if he got the signal quick enough, Raglan could appear within Solis' capitol himself and declare Bexley's relationship with the Night Court King and pull her honesty into question. Hopefully, the ensuing chaos would be enough to drag Raums shiny ass out of the line of fire and back into Night Court territory. But the Silvertongue caught himself, Would the old man even come with us? Rhoswen was a Day Court Commoner. Rhoswen, the light of both he and Raum's lives, the woman that the stallion would be able to see nearly every day if he were to continue on in his precarious position within the Day Court.
With a huff, Raglan shook his head, pale strands of mane brushing against his legs as he rolled his eyes and tossed a wry glance toward Reich.
He had watched the king come creeping like a thief into Denocte. Such a blazing-sun man, burning hot with anger and ambition, made an ill fit in the Night Court with her soothing shadows and her soft darkness. Acton would know.
It was difficult for a man such as Maxence to be discreet; the desert’s heat rolled off him, the hardness of his stare marking him as different, a trespasser. Many eyes were surely on him, and one pair belonged to the Magician Crow. A practiced illusionist, he was much more suited to slipping through the shadows unseen, and he followed Maxence to his meeting-place with Reichenbach, close enough to see but not to hear. Close enough to be there, if he was needed.
Naturally he wasn’t; their king was a more capable man that most (Calligo bless him) and the king snake might be arrogant but he was not stupid. It took longer than Acton would have liked to notice another Crow waiting in the wings, but when finally the wind shifted and he caught Raglan’s scent, his smile was a scythe.
Hopefully the Day sovereign would never know how thoroughly he’d been surrounded.
As Raglan stepped forward, Acton followed suit, his thoughts a turmoil of worry over Raum and low-burning anger at the pinto pegasus. How dare he threaten Reichenbach in the shadows of Denocte? Had it been anyone else, he might have admired the boldness.
He huffed a breath at the Silvertongue’s comment, not deigning to watch Maxence vanish from view. “Calligo help us all,” he said drily, but it was not the goddess of the Night Court on his mind as his molten-gold gaze searched the cool silver of Reichenbach’s.
He knew the voice and the enigmatic presence that came with it without turning, his ever-loyal Silvertongue as jovial and devilish as he had always been despite the scent of turmoil hanging heavy in the air. The coy, amused words cracked Reichenbach's solemn vigil and he turned, a half exasperated look lingering around his long lashed eyes. Tensions were so strong now between Night and Day that The Night King was beginning to grow concerned for the reaction of his people - they were fierce, they were wild and they did not take well to threats or insults. Denocte would sooner bay for blood than forgive the pain of one of their own, and Raum.... Raum was theirs.
"Indeed."
He would not pull Raum. It was an insult to the Crows' superior skill set, to remove him from his location because of a simple threat. Maxence had said it himself - he did not know who was the spy, only that he suspected there was one. Reichenbach had seen his silver skinned spy in action and knew that he was more than capable of knowing when to leave and when to stay - Raum knew more about Solterran life and laws than the rest of them. If the Ghost did not think he needed to leave, then he did not need to leave... regardless of the rumors of he and Rhoswen. Reichenbach preferred to be in the dark about that particular secret.
Finally, after what seemed an age, a familiar, well-worn smile swept away the iciness upon The Night King's shadowed face. His gaze trailed backward to where Acton was slipping forth, his movements all fluidity, grace and arrogance. His boys. Reich grinned, argent eyes flashing as he turned his gaze back to the skies, where Maxence was now long lost. He looked back at the Crows, one silver haired, one black, the tension leaking from the air ever so slowly as he considered them. He always seemed to turn younger around them, to lose the shadowy crown that now weighted his muscular shoulders - perhaps because they had been there before the crown, before it all. He had been there too. For them. They had had nothing, all of them, nothing but the bonds they shared, the faith they entrusted to one another (some more cautiously than others).
Calligo curled her shadowy hands around him as he mused, entangling within his ebony curls and whispering along his black lips, faithful and loving.
"Maxence is smart and he is strong... but he is honest and proud. He does not understand the underworld, nor the Crows, nor Denocte. These are his flaws, his weaknesses."
Maxence was, above all, a commander. He was army, he was military, he was brute strength and battlefields. Perhaps Solis had blessed him with superiority in that regard, but it was Calligo that had blessed her sons and daughters with more.... varied talents. Talents that the Commander in Maxence would overlook or dismiss, talents that Solis himself had sniffed at.
"Our Ghost will remain where they are. Let Maxence fret over his identity, we have work to do."
@Raglan @Acton @Raum for mentions <3 crow love time
