The Night Court's buildings were structures that she had never behold before in all of her time. In Helovia there had scarcely been an erect structure, the small dome in the Ancient Rounda hardly seemed to count when this was it's comparison. She supposed the glass wall of the edge was in someways similarly impressive, though even that had been crude when compared to a building that one could go inside of. Ulrik's sentinels that guarded the entrance to the basin matched the magical nature of this building, though they of course were no match to the size of this creation. There was no moon tonight, her ivory form was friend to to shadows and the darkest coloured horses tonight. The building was covered in vegetation, it snaked its way up the walls and covered some of the window panes where light attempted to shine through and around the leaves. It was beautiful, impressive and intimidating. Stopping outside the door that was the entrance to the he building she took a breath and tried to steady her beating heart.
Since arriving in these lands she'd kept mostly to herself, away from the gazes that might be a threat. Part of her mind also assed this building as a potential threat. Admittedly she'd so far been too afraid to go inside something that her mind didn't quite understand. Of course she gathered the basics about the structure but she could not see how it had been made to stand so tall. Not knowing what made it stand this tall also meant that she did not know what was encouraging it to remain standing. Should she head inside and it begin collapsing, well it would most likely be her death and she was far too friendly with him already. Though he waited for her in the shadows, for a while at least, he was patient.
Something that did make her eager to leave this new kingdom and explore the lands outside it was the idea that her family was out their somewhere. Tilney and Maude, what if they too were lost and alone? Would she ever find them again? Would they perhaps come and live with her in this building? Of course being concerned about the integrity of the building meant she'd been sleeping rough her first few days here. The inhabitants of this kingdom seem more active at night so she made sure to fit into their schedule, that way she felt safer in this brand new world.
Sighing she edged closer to the building pondering if she was brave enough to explore what lurked within.
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
"Impressive isn't it?" The rich baritone of his voice broke through the melody of the night, warm like the crackle of the fire and the heat it offered to those who tended to it. Buildings weren't nearly so impressive to the smouldering stallion, after all, he'd spent his youth and his years in various castles and palaces, roaming their shadowed halls in the comfort of the darkness they kept.
The towering Keep was just another stone holding to the scarred stallion to reside in, until fate decided otherwise, but it did not mean he was blind to it's charms. Especially when faced with a mare who looked at it as the pale doe in front of him did. There were places in the world who had never been gifted such wondrous buildings, he remembered someone telling him once, and then again in passing another handful of times.
He left the safety of the shadows after a moment of silence, illuminated by the torchlight which guarded the entrance of the keep, the ruddy hues of his coat made all the more richer in the light they provided. Dual coloured eyes watched with an inquisitive glint, assessing the mare and taking in her slight and slender frame. There is beauty in simplicity, and the mare has it in abundance. Painted in all the shades of the moonlights pale palette and blessed with her shimmer. His shadow could swallow her whole, he mused idly to himself, head tilted a fraction to the left as the thought passed. "It will not collapse, if that is what is keeping you from coming inside." Kaisar stated, crowned head tilting to glance up at the vine covered windows and weathered stone. "I would remember such a face as yours, are you new to Denocte's family? Or simply visiting?" He inquired nonchalantly enough, but there is a weight to his words that is undeniable underneath the heat of his words and the glint in his eye.
It's the beginnings of a dance, the careful first steps as they find the rhythm and the music plays it's opening notes. A warrior deciding to draw his spear, or would it be the chivalrous knight's waltz? While he is accustomed to both, as his very essence demands him to be, he cannot help the one selfish thrum which hopes it is the latter.
he voice startled her into the present, the finer hairs along her neck pricking, eyes widening slightly and lips parting as she exhaled her shock. "Oh." He vocals were soft, the musical tone from her youth could hardly be heard. She'd not noticed his approach, something she would have been chided for in the past but then she was not warrior. She did not notice things that those who fought well did. Heat flared but she took a slow breath, not wanting to feed the embers with oxygen. For the moment he remained hugged by the shadows, they disillusioned her to his true stature. Golden orbs could only separate small parts of him from the shadows, he wore them as well as one might a cloak. "Yes. I've never beheld anything like it before." Her vocals had still not completely healed from her first night here, she could still remember the feeling of the waters drowning her from the inside out. How the black water filled her, weighing her down.
A gentle breeze played with a few loose strands of her forlock, for a second the small glowing star on her forelock could be seen. Tilting her head to the side she allowed the strands to once again conceal the marking. It was not an easy story to believe, most simply thought she lied about how she acquired the marking. Glancing back to the building she wondered if the stallion lived within the structure. She'd not yet actually asked about who was allowed to live within, prehaps it was just their king that she'd not yet met. That would make perfect sense to her but then there were so many windows and lights. There must be others residing within the walls.
The silver doe looked back to the stallion when the movment of his exit from the shadows caught her eye. Far larger than she was, like most tended to be, his shadow engulfed her. His eyes were sharp, attentive as they surveyed her, their trail left a heat on her skin in their wake. Without question he was a warrior, the scars that littered his frame told her enough, they covered his thick, dark musceled body. They also made her silghtly nervous. What stories each of them would be able to whisper. His dark coat was far from smooth, raised and dented skin from old injuries created even more shadows on his darkened form. She had met others with scars, indeed she had a few old scars now herself, but this was...
"I suppose it's not so much the collapsing that concerns me." Raising her gaze in an attempt to catch his, she smiled softly. "Its the 'crushed to death' possibility." A small joke, she almost surprised herself with it. "A rather undigified and truly unglorious death." Something she was positive all warriors concerned themselves with. His compliment about her looks brought a grin to her chops, she eyed him couriously. She'd danced with others of course, but she was well versed in the beginning steps. Some preferred her to play the part of an innocent maiden, though this virtue was long gone, buried along with the rest of her childish naivety. "I don't think you would miss much." Any new face was surely of interest to him, regardless of the attractiveness, that was a sign of a good warrior. "A new member, I joined recently." Most likely he'd not seen her before due to her preferring the open skies, although winter was on its way. Prehaps it would be warmer indoors.
Moving closer she watched him curiously, the breeze blew again and she inhaled his sharp scent mixed with the fresh air. Arah was always interested to know what others wanted, she couldn't always pick it outright but their reactions, questions and attentions were usally enough to imform her. This was the dance she was best suited to, getting to know other's minds. Not that she didn't mind the other one. "Do you reside with?" This was a clue to the stallion about what she wanted for the moment. A tour of the struture...should it be stable and not about to crush her to death of course.
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
The admission of never viewing the structure only confirmed his fledgling suspicions, she was not a native. Or perhaps she was, to some of the far reaching parts of Novus that escaped the eyes of the monarchy and their loyalists. Told wild stories in her youth to never set foot near certain land for fear of an unfortunate end, the crone or storytellers aged face cast in shadows from the fire they had gathered around. Something told him it wasn't the case, but it was ever so fun to mull over the countless possibilities and answers. Like the tone of her voice, a fae so fair surely had a more musical tune. A crystalline purity and a sing song tune to make the sirens weep, rather than the raspy, thread bare notes his ears perked forward to drink in over the crackle of the torches and the whistling wind. "Then Novus shall be a pleasant surprise for you." He offered with a pull on his dark lips.
Fire and ice fell on the brief glimpse of the glowing marking, drawn from his observation instead to fix on that one small snippet. It was as though he'd been given access to some small piece of her that she did not reveal often. Or perhaps she did, but here, how many knew or a doe with the light of the night caught within her countenence? He couldn't say. He said nothing, however, but his mind held fast onto that revelation. A seed of curiousity planted within the confines of his mind — ready to bloom at a later date. Unusual markings often lead to unusual stories, tales that were as outlandish as they were believable. He wanted to know about that story, he decided. However mundane it turned out to be, to bequeath such a particular imprint on the doe, it was worthy of his attention.
Once upon a time, he had been a handsome stallion. Not that he had ever lost the charm, nor the handsome contours that hugged his muscled frame and sharp features, but there had been fewer scars. Less nicks and scrapes on his crown of horns, fewer strories that had managed to brand his skin with their nefarious visage. It was all the same, from the outside, each one told a story on the long road of life. Had they been given to him in times of strife where the battle had gone past war tables and now they stood shoulder to shoulder on the field of battle? An escalated argument where teeth had snapped at flesh rather than snapped words at assaulted ears? Or was it a sad tale of familial fractures? A misstep on life's game board? The mare's attention to his frame caused him to shift, her golden gaze like honey and fire, muscles flexing beneath the dented skin as he stood taller.
Her attempt to hold his gaze is one he contemplates, before he silently relented and allowed them to be caught. Eyes were the gateway to the soul, a wise horse guarded his zealously for fear of a thief. What would she find in there? What would he find in hers? "Is it not?" It's an automatic response that is followed by a chuckle when the doe continued, loud, rich and impossibly deep. It echoed off of the stone walls until it was swallowed by the darkness, and in it's wake a smirk appeared. "Ah yes, a truly terrible and undignified death. Makes for a very poor obituary speech, makes for a flat delivery, you know." He mused dryly, pausing deliberately at the sight of her grin. "Or I'm very specific about what I don't miss." Kaisar retorted, her attractiveness was undeniable, and any stallion (or mare) would of had to be blind to miss her. She was right however, Kaisar was a diligent man, when set to a purpose, he was ruthless in completing it to perfection. The murmur of a loitering mare outside the grounds had reached his ears and he'd come to investigate.
Her beauty had been an enjoyable discovery.
"Allow me to welcome you to the Night Court and Denocte, formerly then." Head dipped in greeting, he straightened again. "I do. I and a number of the Court call this Keep home, including our Sovereign and his advisors." He replied fluidly, moving aside to present the entrance to her, a silent invitation for her to take the first step forward in joining him in the embrace of the stone walls."Would you like a tour of the grounds, and the rooms?" Would she even accept? He was a stranger, even if he had been amiable enough. There were motives and implications that came with such an ominous title, enough that it made even the most confident equine hesitate in placing any minuscule amount of trust in a face that was more shadow than light. Nevertheless, if she accepted, it would also present a prime opportunity to spend more time with the petite mare, learn more about her and who she was — what had brought her to Novus, and to Calligo's family. About the marking on her forehead and the scars which he observed had marked her iridescent coat with their smudge marks. She had danced the first steps, but would she continue the dance?
rah arched a delicate brow at his words. Already these lands had been quite the surprise to her, but the name - Novus. She was still, not yet used to hearing it. Her internal clock had not yet gotten used to the idea that she was in a different realm. It was a shock every time someone said Novus instead of Helovia. It was like fate was forcing her remember that her entire life had been turned over and she was floundering, desperately reaching for some familiarity to cling to. The doe felt as if her life depended on it. Sink or swim. Damn it. Arah was doing her best to swim. Clearing her throat she was pleased that some amount of raspiness worked it's way from her voice. "Good thing I like pleasant surprises then." A throaty chuckle as she returned to gesture of the smile. She was not afraid of this word, rather excited for the possibilities but she no longer lead with her heart. It was always her head in control, it was a safety and admittedly more tedious process. Yet it meant that she was faced with less heartbreak in the long term. She wondered about his past, had he been rebuilt as many times as she? Did he find himself thinking about the faces of his past? Or was he simply fresh, a soul without sin to answer for. Surely not, his coat spoke of a thousand battles but what were the stakes? The doe wanted to know.
He was not unattractive she decided. Indeed the marring of his coat would be a shock to one's system, especially if they had seen or done the things Arah had. Unlike him she wore the worst of her ruined, wretched skin on the inside. Ugly scars that surely would turn away the fainthearted. Was he built similarly on the inside? Of course it was not only scars that told her story, there was her marking, her pendant and her eyes. The eyes that could change, steal and manipulate memories. The doe had altered memories to take away pain, assist others. The opposite as well.
The disappearance of her magic had been an unpleasant surprise of this land. Whatever wonders it held she was still struggling to get used to this change within herself. In a way the glowing star gifted to her reminded her that somewhere there was still magic. Where was the spirit now that Helovia had collapsed into the rift? Did she continue to reside in what remained of the lake? Or had she retreated to a different world that Arah would only be able to see when she passed on? True this new land was wondrous but every second Arah only had more questions about her past present and future.
This stallion was charming and she knew that he knew it. Indeed once one looked past the rugged coat they would see the sharp defining lines of his toned body. Strength. Brute strength. A warrior with the assumed prowess to match if the scars where any indication. The enemies may had managed to injure him but he was still alive, a victory in itself. She knew the cost of war, she seen the bodies of the fallen, crippled, trampled. Utterly empty. War was not for her, despite having fought in two massive scaled invasions in Helovia. It did not suit her personality but each time her loyalty to her leaders and herd mates had won out. What did he fight for? Perhaps he fought for justice. Perhaps he became a monster at the sight of spilled blood. Hopefully she would never have to know, not really. Such natures remained private for a reason, no one wanted to know what others were truly capable. No one wanted to see what they could be pushed to become.
When he allows his gaze to held Arah manages not to chuckle, though it is certainly a bizarre feeling. It's strange to think that she does not have to withhold any magic, there is no longer any danger in looking into another's eyes. Instead she can focus on seeing past the exterior and instead looking into another's soul. Did her see her shattered one? His soul? Mmm, there was undoubtedly pride, he was a whole man. Clearly he did not carry the weight of his past on his soul like she did. His was lighter, with less obsidian. Certainly she could learn something from him, if one such as him could let go then maybe she should as well. Had she not begun to in Helovia? Yes. It was what held her stand up straighter, keep moving forward.
She is please her words were amusing and not a sad attempt at humour. "Awful." She agreed. "All of the mourners would leave!" Shaking her head at the very thought of having the words 'crushed to death' for the explanation of her death was quite depressing. "Hmm." Was Arah's playful response to his suggestive tone. The doe knew that she was attractive to those who preferred blondes (wink), it was not a bad thing to be aware of this. Especially as being beautiful was not her personality or skill in life. Instead she'd been lucky with genetics.
"Thank you." She was grateful to have received a warm welcome from another member of the court. Pleased to hear that her hunch had been right and it was not just the King who lived in these rooms, Arah felt slightly more curious to see inside. When he moved to the side, voting her to take the first step the doe took a deep breath and stepped in to the stone structure. She wondered if there were any other motives to his words. Yet he'd been quite courteous to her, friendly too. Nodding she accepted his invitation. Surveying what could potentially be her new home she nodded. "A tour would would wonderful." She needed to learn about her new home and having someone beside her as she looked through the stone structure was a comforting thought. Allow the dance to continue, there was no need to the slow calming music of the waltz to stop now. Besides, if she found a space she liked then she'd be facing a warmer winter rather than freezing through the frozen months. A space of her own...that was an encouraging thought. It would be nice to have a space to call her own, even if it was in a death trap. "Lead on."
Feeling rude about the way she ordered him on, hoping it hadn't come across that way, she laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude." Pausing she looked back over shoulder, a small smile tugging at her chops. "I'm Arah." Bowing her crowned head slightly she hoped for a name in turn.
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
Sink or swim, such a simple phrase yet it held power. One wrong move often sent many into the dark depths of the ocean, and it was there where they had to choose. Would they be consumed? Or would they find their second wind and push toward the shore?
Novus was sink or swim for many, especially those that had stumbled into her embrace, broken or strung together. It also had little qualms in taking from those both strong and weak, there are many, he's come to learn, have lost things that are precious to them. Not just family and fond friends, faces who were no more than ripples in the water by now. Magic, the force that made the good great, and the bad, terrible. Kaisar had magic, he had also had Ikaros, his great winged behemoth — both had become the gatekeepers fee to call this place home.
He was all smouldering skin and ember flecked bones, bared to the World and then not at all. Many made assumptions when they saw him at first glance, but then who didn't judge on first sight? Kaisar was guilty of assuming much on first impressions, and reluctant to let souls redeem themselves. The fire kissed stallion was so much more though, than first impressions and the scars on his skin, the shadows hid the rest of him under layers of smoke and mist. Wrapped around him like a silken drape and heavy gold medallions. A dragon reluctant to give up his secrets.
All pride and fire, blistering cold and glacial coolness.
"They would." He agreed, a breath exhaled in another chuckle. "I'd have to come back for a second pass at life, I would be that embarrassed." Indeed, what a terrible, unfortunate way to go. The statues carved of his face for eternity would have to be covered with a cloth, mindfully stored behind greater heroes who had more valiant deaths. The mood had lifted considerably, the weight in his gaze lightened to one of a more light disposition that one that actively searched for anything deeper beneath the surface.
"If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask them." He rumbled as he turned and began to lead the way, his hooves clacking heavily on the stone floor now that he had no reason to slink in the shadows. Indeed, beyond the stone archway lay more Courtiers who hugged the shadows and filled the silence with melodic words. While they were not so active during the day, as they were truly Calligo's children at heart, the night was no means filled with the sound of nothingness and slithering shadows. Music, laughter and memories were made in earnest. "We're one of the most populated Courts in the land," he mentioned idy, "with Dusk not far behind. Our monarch is called Reichenbach, he's rather hard to miss."
Her apology earned a shake of his horned head, dismissing it with ease and a shrug of his muscular shoulder. If any were offended by such words, he would question their delicate sensibilities and place within a world that was often bluntly cruel. "The apology is unneeded, Arah. Do not worry, I'm not so easily felled by a lady who knows what she wants." A small smirk flitted across his scarred face. "I'm Kaisar, one of the Warriors of the Court, if the scars did not already give it away."
second pass at life? Who wouldn't want such a miracle? All of the things she would do differently...there were too many to think of at once. Yet if she had not faced the challenges and had instead done everything 'right' would she be the same as she is, right now, in this moment? Of course not. The strength of her convictions came from knowing how hard one would fall if they didn't stand by them. Arah would forever be encased by the power of her principals, justified by the lessons of her past, empowered by overcoming the challenges and establishing such morals. It was easier to wish for things to be different but more important to remember the past and become a stronger, better soul because of them.
The stallion was earthly based, his skin reminding her of the beginning of a sundering world, the first smouldering embers of the earth's blood before the fires erupted. Beneath the surface boiled the rivers of emotion, hid the canyons where secrets shied away from the light of day, swirled the mists of his past and hardened surfaces of his own overcome challenges. Neither of them were open with their secrets. Each clung to the shadowy figures with iron fists, concealing them from the view of others. Who had more to hide? Who concealed the darker secrets? It was the game of shadows and by now it seemed that both of the had become masters. Their cloaks of resilience were thicker that the hardened armour they used for battle. Arah's was simply a less scarred cloak, with more beauty than fear to turn away the curious gazes of others.
She was the subtle glow of the moon. He was fire and brimstone.
He turned and began to lead the way after encouraging her to ask questions about her new home. Landing heavily on the stone floor, the sound of his hooves reverberated in her soft, pointed ears. The doe's golden orbs spied others clinging to the shadows, watching their exchange and her entrance of the establishment. They were not threatening to her, merely curious. Even in the center hub of her new home night seem to be the most active time. This was not too different from Aurora Basin, Arah often found herself awake at night, the Basin's light keeping her and others from a restful night. It would be difficult to readjust tho this schedule after all it did not take her much time to do so as a new member of World's Edge. "Reichenbach." Arah softly repeated making sure she was pronouncing the name correctly, better to be corrected now rather than later and by the monarch himself. "I'll be sure to make myself known to him soon. I've never not filled a rank and served my herd." Arah revealed with a small smile. It was the truth, never had she been a simple member of a herd, she'd always served a purpose. "Or court I suppose it is now." The doe added as an after thought. In any case she was always an active member, working towards the bettering of her larger family.
Chuckling at his words Arah replied, "we shall get on well then." Turning away and studying more of their home, observing the way the flame torches cast their light. It was a fansinating show of light and dark, lovers and foes. Always at odds but forever chasing the other. "Kaisar, it is a pleasure." Returning her gaze to the warrior she made a light 'hmm' sound. "Yes, I had worked that out for myself." Once again her eyes passed over his battered flesh, wondering if her had chosen such a violent life or if it had been thrust upon him. Some did not get a choice, they were at the mercy of lords, monarchs and ring leaders. Had he faced such a life and escaped but been unable to turn away from what he'd been trained to do? Those were some of the more difficult stories to hear.
"Do you have a patron deity?" The huskiness of her voice was still present but having only been speaking softly it was less prevalent, closer now to her natural musical tones. It was important to the doe to know at least a name of their deity. She'd been gradually climbing the ranks in the World's Edge under the careful eye of their Seer. In a new land she would have to learn about all of the deities and the history of their lands. Imparting knowledge was, to Arah at least, one of the most important roles of sages. This was the role she intended to play in The Night Court - sage. After all she was hardly fitted to the role warrior. "Which part of the structure is this?" Arah asked looking down what might be a corridor.
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
Too many were often sucked up in the whirling vortex that was could of, should of, would of. The ones that were survivors of their misfortune and mistakes were stronger for it, they understood that it was merely the price to pay for wisdom in this life, for strength and humility. No cost was too high, to have your skin reforged and bones clad in steel. If only those broken by it could understand, he'd stood there too often, at the hooves of the broken and weak. They wailed into the night's silence begging for second chances and do-overs, begged Time to listen to them. How they deserved it. They did not deserve it, he had muttered to them on occasion, judging them with the glacial blue of his right eye. There was no sympathy or honeyed words for them, only the swift judgement of the jury whom watched the guilty with veiled interest. He batted away their dagger like stares with a distinterested flick of his ear, their acid barbs with an apathetic lance of ice.
To be tested, and fail — if you did not get up, you were lost. To welcome defeat, or to beg for one last chance was submission to eternal obscurity.
They were an interesting pair, side by side. The volatility of the earth's lifeblood against the ethereal veiled essence of the moon on her throne. There were many tales of the Sun & the Moon, their story was much more cosmic in design, fated to the eternal duty of divine immortality. There were always comparisons made to them, but what of the Earth and the Moon? Each had secrets, the moon had her velvet cloak pulled tight, and the Earth had his deep places untouched by light. Romance was not needed in those tales, no sugared and carefully woven words spoken from wistful lips and reflected in doe eyes.
Kaisar made sure the pace was leisured, a stroll through the grounds as though they had been there since time began, each hoof that caressed the stone having done so for countless nights and even more years than grains in the hourglass. "There are many ranks, if you do not wish to simply enjoy the fruits of our Court." There is an appraising glint in his eye, while he did not judge harshly those who preferred to let others take the World on their shoulders, there always had to be the commonfolk to serve, there was undeniable favoritism to those who took up the mantle. "There are four paths currently, our Sages often converge in the library tower, writing our stories into history and uncovering those lost, they are lead by our champion, Araxes." Deliberately pausing to let it sink in before he continued. "Next we have our champion of battle, Aislinn, who leads the Warriors and the defense of our lands. Seree, is the one who teaches the way of the healing arts and finally, there is Lyra, who sees to the day to day lives of the rest." He could see her as a Sage, surrounded by leather bound tomes inked with foreign words, the sweet smell of incense clinging to her coat — or a Healer. Brightly coloured potions glinting in the moonlight at her side, the rich and bitter smell of herbs floating after her. Unless she was a warrioress at heart, those scars she wore in subtle strokes gained in battle rather than misfortune, the angel turned valkyrie.
"The pleasure is mine." His eyes followed hers as she glanced around their home, how different was it from her old one? Had it been totally barren, untouched by master crafters and their grand designs? At her comment of his warrior roots being obvious, he uttered a laugh. "I was not always solely a Warrior." The stallion admitted with a flick of his tail. "Before this I was an advisor in my nephew's court, and my brother before him. These scars have been gotten at the expanse of another's wounded pride trying to repair itself, not many like being outplayed." Kaisar admitted with a sly smirk, he had lost track of how many had shattered beneath his carefully laid plans, scrambling and screaming to reclaim some of that lost pride.
Do you have a patron deity?
"Calligo. Goddess of the Night." While his tone is mostly neutral, there is a hint of fondness there. Who could not love the divine underdog, who had endured and eventually broke under the scrunity of her purer equals. "She is a demi-god, born to a mortal mother. Her siblings were not so fond of that, or her domain — and they paid for it. Their prejudice and bias tore apart the godly pantheon." He stilled in front of one of the osidian statues glinting in the fires, the pale diamonds glinting like stars. "Our Sages know more of the Stories many details, as well as the other Gods. There is another Sage visiting from the Dusk Court who can tell you more of their Goddess if you want to delve deeper into the other courts." Kaisar explained with a roll of a muscular shoulder. "We are in the Great Hall, here is where most of us hold Court with Reichenbach, as well as hold our parties. To the left," he punctuated with a nod of his crowned head, "is the stairs that will lead to the library, and the right, toward the apartments which house some of us." Grand indeed, the thick tapestries which hung from the wall were woven luxuriously, and the faint scent of incense from foreign lands lingered in the air. There was a warmth to it, a familial kind which radiated despite the darkness that the light did not chase away. "Those are the two most important, which would you like to see first? We can view the Gardens, Kitchens and Dungeons if you prefer afterward."
ike mice they lived beneath the cover of over stuffed couches, within the creases of society where others didn't dare to look. Secretive creatures that hid their wretched bodies from the view of the world. Their secrets that they carried on their bodies, shame that they had to hide.
Or rather she had. This was her emergence, the release from what had been. A chance to live life the way she should have done. Once she got her family back together and they all residents in the same home, then they could continue as the one unit. It was also important to establish herself in The Night Court, she was desperate to learn of her new home, eager to prove herself and more than ready to settle down in a herd. Ambition had not been the downfall of societies, nor had it been responsible for her personal collapse. If anything it had been the lack of ambition that had allowed her to loose her way. This was her chance to figure out what she wanted now, what her purpose in this new land would be. Knowledge had always been her pursuit in life, through it was no longer secretive intelligence that she sought. It was history, the lessons that their ancestors left behind. It was learning about magic, how it worked, how it empowered others. The leaders of the lands, the wars, the gods, the changes in landscape and everything else the world had to offer. She was greedy.
Together, side by side they matched in a strange way. Like shadow and light, they chased one another, never meeting but always dancing. Light and shadow chased, they fought, they mingled and they worked together. Who was he shadow? She had enough darkness in her to often be chasing the light but could he represent the light? Perhaps.
Silky ivory hairs reflected the torch lights. The cable was surprisingly well lit, though upon reflection perhaps it shouldn't have been such a shock to her. There had always been light reflected in the window panes of the castle. Although it was larger inside than she had originally thought it to be, with corridors and high ceilings that enabled even the tallest to wonder through. Was there more than one building like this in Novus? Just how large was this land that she had found herself in? Helovia had been large enough that it would take months for one to walk from one end to the other. Seasons would change before one reached their destination. Was the size of this land comparable to that of Helovia? Was there magic in these lands? Would her own eventually return once her body and mind got over the shock of falling through the magic of the rift. The doe assumed that her body had been over exposed to the magic contained in the rift that she's travelled through. In order to preserve her body and sanity (though it had been a close call, Wynter had saved her mind) Arah's own magic had shutdown, cut itself off from being assessed by the doe. It was preservation, survival. Hopefully her abilities had not been too altered by the magic of the rift and when her body was ready for her abilities to return she could still summon them.
Wynter was another matter entirely. She'd not herd from her bonded since the rift had shut down after spitting her out. Although it would be easier for the doe to remain here while Wynter sought her out, the griffin being a natural born tracker, the doe doubted just how useful Wynter's tracking skills would be in regards to her whereabouts. The silver hadn't exactly left a traceable trail. The only reason Arah had decided to remain here was because Wynter might have gotten the smallest sense of these lands through the open rift. Moving on to new lands would be counter productive if this was the case.
The pace was a leisurely one, Arah appreciated this as it gave her time to survey her new home in great detail. They first made their way through the grounds, her hooves lightly brushing against each stone as if she could feel and experience each moment of the individual stones' history. How many hooves before hers had kissed the surface that she now walked upon? The stories that would be told if the stones could speak. Arah would listen, she had never lost the thirst for knowledge. "I do enjoy variety." Arah smiled, thinking about the antics that carried on in the general population of herds or courts. No doubt it would be just as entertaining in her new home. Those who had little to think of but themselves and their drama always served the more common practice of entertainment. "It has been some time since I read. Written works were far and few in my previous home." Yet being fluent in three tongues and able to get by in a handful of others she was positive that she'd be able to read the majority of scrolls kept within the library. In tales, as old as time itself, she had heard of the Great Wanshtin's Library. Filled with the world's knowledge about every subject imaginable. It had been lost to the world centuries ago, not seen since The Great Explorer closed the great doors behind him. Arah had never even been in a normal library, the idea of having access to one excited her greatly. The other mentioned ranks held some similarity to those in Helovia, though the lack of crafters disappointed her. Those about to create marvels from bare materials had always fascinated her. The lack of a spy rank was also intriguing, perhaps there was more trust between the courts here than there had been between the herds populating Helovia. Yet the presence of the warrior ranks suggested else wise, protection was still big business. Battle - she had no talent in this art. At best she survived.
The admission that he was not always a warrior surprised her. Clearly she was rusty at reading others. "No, being outplayed often makes some return to childhood." As a mother, she knew the tempers of children. Glancing at his scars she felt a flash of sympathy for him. They were an unfortunate price for service. "Looks to have been a severe tantrum?" The doe remarked, ending the statement as a question should he wish to continue with his story. With such words he'd peaked her interest, she knew it would be an intriguing story. Though she also wanted to be delicate as it may be too painful for him to recall. Not asking him outright allowed him to politely refuse to answer her question.
It seemed that Kaisar had never seen the power of names. True, she'd given her willingly but she was a mere mortal, speaking a god's name outright could be very dangerous. Even her old gods where simply known by their elements (Earth, Sun, Time and Darkness) they never made the mortal natives privy to their names. Nodding to show she had heard him, the doe did not dare test the fates and repeat the name. They'd had demi-gods in Helovia, though they'd not had their own domain. Arah wondered if the Gods had taken their children before the Rift tore them away from their lands. "I shall seek out the sages and the visitor, thank you." Arah had often traveled to other herd lands to inquire about history and gods but being so new to these lands it was quite convenient to have a visiting sage here. She also liked to attend festivals, perhaps that was practised here as well. "Does each court hold a yearly festival to honour their patron god or goddess?" Arah asked, perhaps these questions would be better suited for a practising sage to answer. But curiosity had a thirst for being answered sooner rather than later. As soon as it suited she would join the sages in the library, so far it had been too soon. Too overwhelming. Yet even just this introduction, the help of Kaisar had assisted her with growing in confidence, excited to delve into the history of these lands. The Great Hall earned it's name. It was massive, large enough to fit the court in order to seek council with Reichenbach. Parties? The doe liked the idea of parties, they'd had festivals in Helovia but not parties. She followed his gaze to the left, excited to see the stairs that lead to the library but she was also just intrigued to see the apartments. Would she be entitled to one? "I'm curious to see the apartments first." Arah decided, her eyes looking down the towards the rooms. "Who is entitled to a room?" She inquired not wanting to be embarrassed by asking if she might have a room outright. Then she glanced towards him at the mentioned kitchens and dungeons. With a grin and an arched brow she simply inquired, "dungeons?" Perhaps the shock was because this civilisation seemed more advanced than Helovia, she's assumed they had no need for dungeons. Though this was clearly incorrect she couldn't help be curious to see where prisoners where kept. Then she should also see to the gardens, see what healing herbs they grew. It was good knowledge to have on hand. "I would like to see the gardens please." She could always inspect the dungeons on her own later.
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
Once one learned to master their secrets, they were armor, a weapon. A smirk in the dying light of the sun, the dagger in the dark smeared with poison and the wispy, exhilerated breath at the expense of the unassuming. They were a rebirth, the pheonix rising from it's own ashes to seize the day with renewed vigor. Kaisar had long become that pheonix, or rather a Dragon, for he was more scales and jagged teeth than feathers and sharp beaks.
Family had always been a complicated and ultimately ramshackle affair. His father, his brother, his nephews and ultimately his own children. His family had been rife with fractures even when he was but a babe, flitting away days with Marrod. Peace and togetherness had never been in their blood, it simmered and boiled beneath the fiery planes of their skin and reflected in their inferno gaze. They were prone to greatness and great folly, whenever they congregated it was not meant to last. Kaisar had long come to accept that togetherness was not for them, the brief moments they ended up on the same side and working for the same goals were to be savoured for their fleeting life, and left when the birds wings began to burn.
Even his own son, who had followed him here, was not immune to the chafing the sons of fire often felt in the presence of their blood. Perhaps there was a touch of envy in the volcanic stallion's heart at those who could maintain such familial closeness without it becoming a burden to bear. He had filled his halls with duty instead, with shadows and poisons, careful words and bitter sweet triumphs. The Night Court was just the most recent to set up it's banners, the current song he marched to.
Their thirst, their greed. Their secrets, and lies. Little victories and sour losses. The odd way they stood as a picture, in the low light of the night court, they matched.
"Novus will reward you richly, then." He huffed, amused, lapsing into a contemplative silence as Arah spoke. "Your home was not as advanced as Novus then? Or the place where I was born for that matter." Kaisar stated, still thoughtful. "There are others who have come from other such places, here and in the other courts too, I imagine." It often perplexed him that such places existed, given the nomadic nature of many other individuals from other lands. Surely, they would of brought with them their secrets and magic? Brought their experience and culture to integrate with the one they were currently residing with. "Speaking of Courts, and others. I should at least inform you of them in more detail. Denocte, our realm, is known as the Court of Thieves and Assassins. We are a fairly free Court, we do not particularly place weight on any one path, and we're rather infamous for our parties." It was a Court of intrigue and freedom, and many thrived for it, protected in Calligo's embrace and their mountain barriers. Theirs was a World not many were privy to, or welcomed within, but oh did they revel in it themselves. "Then there is the Dusk Court, who pride themselves on their healing arts, their potions and herbal remedies are without equal, their patron Goddess is Vespera. Then there is Dawn, who are known for their Sages who worship Oriens, I have not met much of them, they're too busy in their books I suppose. Then there is Day." Kaisar cannot help the deadpan in his voice when he reached Solsis' Court, nor the way his brows furrowed. "Desert rats with an attitude. They are Warriors by nature, and their God is Soltis."
His attention is soon drawn back to her jest, and he huffed a breath. "Indeed, I must admit, it is rather satisfying to watch a stallion revert to being a yearling over losing. Makes me wish I could immortalize their faces in marble, with the look they often give." Grace in loss was not everyone's cup of wine, or favorite sweet to swallow. Kaisar had been a poor loser in his youth, but age had refined it to a bitter tasting wine he would drink to better appreciate later. "Oh, definitely." Kaiser replied with a grin. "Sore losers have nothing left, to well, lose. Makes sense that they lash out and try and inflict as much damage as they can." A roll of a muscular shoulder accompanied his words. "Most of these were gifted in the service of my brother, and then in the Court of my Nephew. The particular gash on my shoulder was received after a ball went awry. The burn on my left hind from an poorly timed fireball."
Gods had been a very delicate thing within his family. Gods had been the rise and ruin of his House, the tumultuous wind howling outside the palace, threatening to scour the stone pillars into tooth picks and send their legacy crashing into the waves of the desert ocean. "Whatever comes from your visit to the Sages, and the Dusk Courtier, I'm sure it will be at least interesting." So far, every other equine he had met who called Novus home as been as varied as the last, no two were the same. Refreshing, and challenging, one could not simply lump them into pigeonholes on first meetings. At the mention of a festival, Kaisar gave a deliberate pause. "There is one happening now in fact, I'm due to head there myself shortly. The Dawn Court is honoring the changing of the seasons, perhaps you would like to accompany me?" He offered, no weight or expectation lined his face. They had just met, and a stranger despite a name given, offering to escort you anywhere would give many pause. But he was genuine in his offer, he was duty bound first and foremost to safeguard the people of his court — it was merely an enjoyable side benefit that Arah was the moon personified.
"The apartments it is." Moving his bulk with practiced ease, he turned toward the hallway that would take them to their destination. "Anyone is entitled to a room, one only has to ask and they will have it, there are no real requirements to who and who isn't allowed one. Some prefer to live outside the protection and safety of the Keep, but most, including myself — prefer the security and luxury of stone walls and comfortable pillows and blankets, especially when the season changes. Makes the cold mornings a little more easier to deal with." The warrior explained, chuckling under his breath. The rows of doors were mostly shut, the solid wood decorated with various iron depictions. Occasionally one would be open just a crack, giving a brief glimpse to the accommodation's inside. "Unfortunately, I cannot simply let you wander into others rooms. But you may view mine, to get an idea of what you may expect when you have your own." The last part is said with a knowing smirk, eyeing the mare slyly. Pausing outside of a iron clad door decorated with dragon motifs, the creature coiled in it's own grasp. Reaching out with a gentle push of telekinesis, the door swung open at his insistence, revealing the well lit large room within.
Black and red tapestries lined the stone walls, embroidered with gold and the faint smell of incense lingered, still rich and just a little bit spicy in the undertones. The braziers warmed and bathed it in an equally warm glow, the soft orange and yellow removing the dark and foreboding presence the keep often had. Personal objects lay scattered on tables and against the wall, from trinkets of his home to a particular sword engraved with foreign runes. Books leather bound and slightly frayed from too many long nights awake with no sleep in sight. Lingering remnants of a life of a well educated advisor, a cunning player of the game and it's thirst for higher prizes and deeper knowledge. All of it framed the plush amount of dark pillows and blankets which made the bed he laid upon. "You may decorate the rooms as you wish." Kaisar hummed thoughtfully, his was more darker than some of the more star spun palette's he had spied. His was the earth and it's volcanic blood. "Ah, you mentioned the dungeons. Our home is not immune to the blight of other lands, there are thieves, vagabonds and unsavory courtiers from other lands who we have to contend with. But, let's not spoil a rather lovely tour of the keep, no? When you're done here we can move off to the Gardens."
