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.
Instead, Cynix had turned toward the Day Court. Dusk was where he would settle, he knew that much, but there was no harm in visiting his father and sister, was there? Granted, the Solterrans were known as warriors and he was a soft hearted young man, but that didn't stop him from braving the dry lands, his hooves kicking up dust behind him as he made his way to the court itself. Perhaps if he could speak to them... the Regime, perhaps something could be done, could be settled.
It wasn't as if the Regime were attacking Denocte, it was isolated incidents, wasn't it? Couldn't the two Sovereigns talk? He wasn't sure how it would work but it was better than sheltering behind closed gates like a bunch of children with a sign outside saying 'no outsiders allowed!' in big and bold letters.
All the same, he came to a standstill when his hooves brushed against harder surface, his head lifting and wings splaying to release the heat that had built up. It was sweltering here, but he expected no less from them.
but I do wonder how they know cause they don't die if they don't grow
Silver emerges from the curve of snaking sandstone paths like a stalking tiger.
The Day Court’s Queen is no stranger to the outskirts of the capitol; as a guard, she spent most of her days wandering these pathways, on patrol. Now, even in spite of her elevated status, she tries to keep an eye on everything that happens in the city, futile as it might seem. (For a moment, the sneer of a winged woman lingers in her mind like a searing brand. You don’t know? She pushes it aside, swallowing down quiet, simmering disdain. She has a stranger to speak with – now is no time for that.) She smells woodsmoke and night-flowers among the sand and heat that radiates off of everything Solterra touches; night.
Just a boy, but tall and familiar – she can see what she thinks is Torstein in his pale features, in spite of his gentle stance and the wings protruding from his skull in the place of great horns. Seraphina curves her brow at the boy. “One of Torstein’s children?” An observation, but her tone implies a question – it isn’t as though she’s met any of the brute’s children, save for Jaxis, though he looks like he has to be related. “What brings you to Solterra?” She knows that he is Denoctian from his scent, if nothing else, and Denocte had closed their gates; she has no idea why the boy would even be allowed out, but she supposed it made sense enough that he would seek out his father. (Then again, she has a loose understanding of how familial bonds work.) She observes him with a gaze that is almost eerily cool and unreadable, neither distinctly welcoming nor disapproving; in spite of his mixed heritage, she has no particular prejudices against him, only the Regime he serves.
(That said, welcoming behavior is not Seraphina’s strongest suit, and she still seems frigid and impassive, at best.)
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
Of all the horses to expect to bump in to, he hadn't really thought that Seraphina, the Sovereign, would be the one that he managed to catch the attention of. Despite himself, he shifted a little to seem a bit smaller, not wanting to seem too proud even as his wings flared out more, attempting to cool him off. He wasn't used to the summer heat here, it was far more intense it seemed than any other land.
Swallowing, Cynix nodded slightly at the question, perking ears forward. There was no hostility in her tone, and that alone brought some degree of relief through him. "Yes," he clarified, clearing his throat a little out of embarrassment before he breathed out, finally easing himself in to a more relaxed posture. "Denocte shut its gates, and I refused to be stuck behind them, where the prejudices lie. I grew up with them, and they had died down, but with all of this mess, well. I'm sure you can understand."
He shook his head just a small fraction, frowning as he peered up at her. She seemed to be quite level headed, compared to the childish antics of the Denocte Regime. "I find this all.. tiring. Instead of talking it out with you and the rest of your Regime, the Denocte Regime decided to close its gates and hide. I hate it, it feels foolish." Maybe he was a tiny bit bitter sounding, but he didn't know all of the details, only that they were being hidden away because of something with Solterra.
"I was hoping my father or sister would be around as well, but... I can see them later."
but I do wonder how they know cause they don't die if they don't grow
He seems to shrink in upon himself – she doesn’t know why. Perhaps he worries about appearing haughty, or disrespectful, but that isn’t of as much concern to her as what he says next. Prejudice? Well, she hadn’t thought about it before, but she supposes that being born between Day and Night would be difficult, to say the least. “Yes,” She says, simply, something strangely genuine in her icy tones, “I understand.” Not like a child born between worlds, but like a child soldier from the lowest echelons of Solterran society that rose to take a noble’s crown. “I…imagine that your Regime has their reasons, though you might not be privy to them at the time. I do not know enough of what has occurred in Denocte to make much of a comment.” That much is true, and she’s reluctant to say too much, even to a child. If she ever seeks to soothe tensions, then she must remain calm, composed, rational – reserved, even. She hates feeling so passive and so helpless, but she knows that she can’t even risk provoking Novus’s most powerful nation while her own still lies in ruins. “It has done little to ease tensions, though – dragonfire does not soothe frayed nerves.” Almost rueful. Why would the Solterrans be comfortable, seeing the effects of the dragon that had not too long ago perched on the high towers of their capitol city? She can do nothing but try to tell them not to worry, yet, but each passing day with no word from the Night Kingdom sets her paranoia ablaze. “I am not at all opposed to talking with Denocte. In fact, I just discussed an arrangement with their Emissary, to rectify the previous crimes that both of our courts have committed against each other. If you have been told that Solterra is the reason for this…” Gods, if that was what he thought, she might be in more trouble than she had previously thought. She looks the boy down with a cool, cool stare, but she wonders if he might sense the worry in her gaze. “...then I do not know what we have done.” She sounds tired, she knows, but she is tired – tired of her people suffering, tired of accounting for mistakes that are not her own, of playing the bloodthirsty villainess in what seems to be Novus’s favorite horror story. She knows what they say about Solterrans. Amoral sandsnakes, little more than brutality and venom. No culture, no stories, no history. Nothing but violence and war. The Stormsinger’s words ring in her ears again, and she loathes them. You don’t know. “I can’t say that I know where your father or your sister are,” She says, at his final comment, “but you’re more than welcome to stay in the Capitol as long as you wish. Have you ever been to Solterra before?” She seems to recall seeing his twin, a time or two, but she doesn’t think that she’s ever seen him – perhaps a tour is in order.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
05-06-2018, 02:34 PM - This post was last modified: 05-06-2018, 02:57 PM by Seraphina
Slowly, his head shook, and he eased back in to a less curled in position, standing a little taller, a little more relaxed, instead of being tucked in against himself. "We weren't told that, but I know of the tensions." He'd been born in the middle of them, after all, he knew them all too well. "I know the past conflicts, and what has happened recently with.. well. My father, and Aislinn." The fight that had brought the stormsinger home with a ruined wing. It had not been pretty, from where he had observed her coming back to Denocte.
"Regardless, since the Regime took such a position to lock the gates, I refused to be stuck behind them, and have instead started to wander. At the moment, Dusk is where... I stay, but I cannot stay still, either. Being idle makes me restless." He felt a little strange, admitting such a thing to the woman before him, but he only shook his head and blew out a soft breath instead.
The change of topic was something he grasped entirely, and his lips pulled up in to a small smile. "No, I haven't. I always meant to visit, and I suppose I should make the most of this, stay a few days perhaps and relax and learn about the other half of my heritage. I've heard stories of your warriors, and sages. You have a rich history, or so mother says. I want to learn what I can from here, so I know where I've come from." Solterra seemed to be the smallest of the nations, but that didn't stop him or deter him from wanting to learn, wanting to know.
but I do wonder how they know cause they don't die if they don't grow
“There have…certainly been tensions,” She admitted, with a sigh. “I spoke with Isorath not too long ago to attempt to put them to rest. We have worked to compensate for that incident, and the…matter of Denocte sending spies into Solterra.” And attempting to murder one of her citizens, but she was reasonably sure that the boy already knew that; there was no reason to bring up anything more than the specter of that unsavory incident. She shook her head. “I do not know what has provoked your nation to close their gates, but I imagine that your Regime would not do so without good reason.” She couldn’t say that she liked their Regent or Sovereign, though Isorath was pleasant enough; nevertheless, she had no doubt that Aislinn and Reichenbach had their kingdom’s best interests at heart, regardless of how reckless and inconceivable their behavior often appeared to the silver.
He spoke of his current position, and she offered a slight nod; restlessness wasn’t a bad thing, and she could certainly understand it. “I imagine it will do you good to see more of the world – there is only so much you can learn from a single land.”
At his next words, the tension that had inhabited her talk of Denocte seemed to flood out of her. At least the boy hadn’t been raised to think that the Solterrans were nothing but brutish warriors; she didn’t know much of his mother, but she could respect her apparent efforts to raise her children with some degree of pride in their desert heritage, though Tor was no Solterran native. “We do certainly have a very old culture, though the past few years have destroyed many of our accounts and much of our art. Nevertheless, if you would like to learn, our gates are open to you…and, if you wish, I could guide you through the capitol. It is easy to get lost.”
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
Even if the Regime had done it with good thought, well... it was good intentions, bad execution. Hiding away and sequestering the rest of the populace wasn't their right, even if they had done it for safety. Having a meeting, perhaps, would have been better. A meeting to discuss it, instead of announce it. The closing of the gates was still bitter on his tongue, but the young man shook his head, as if attempting to physically deter the thoughts from pestering him.
Instead, he seemed to brighten, his head lifting and wings fanning out, feathers carefully ruffling in the Solterran heat, the rays of the sun. "I would love a tour, Seraphina, thank you. I want to learn as much as I can." Being raised away from half of his heritage only left him with a craving for knowledge of it, and he found himself smiling.
but I do wonder how they know cause they don't die if they don't grow
He had the look of someone who was clearly entrapped by his own thoughts; one look at his face was enough to tell her that. Solterra had dwindled and fallen into tyranny under isolationism, but Denocte remained a port city – their resources shouldn’t falter, and they would have contact with the outside world, just not the rest of Novus. She was sure that the Denoctians felt like caged animals, their precious freedom stripped from them, at least temporarily, but she knew enough of their leaders to know that, though they seemed to her to be far too passionate and perhaps impulsive for their own good, they were not so tyrannical as their decision to close the gates seemed to have made so many believe.
She had lived under a tyrant, after all.
Perhaps she could see it as an act of cowardice, or a lack of accountability. It seemed that most of Denocte’s troubles with the outside world involved the Regime, not the kingdom’s citizens, who would be most affected by the gates. However, it wasn’t her business to judge their actions until she knew what they had planned, and, so long as they caused no trouble for Solterra, their present situation was irrelevant to the silver.
At his words, she offered him a dip of her head and a look of very faint warmth. “Then follow me,” She said, and stepped forward onto the winding sandstone streets.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
