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Played by Offline Zombie [PM] Posts: 107 — Threads: 15
Signos: 390
Dusk Court Sovereign
Male [He/Him/His]  |  13 [Year 493 Summer]  |  15.2 hh  |  Hth: 22 — Atk: 18 — Exp: 37  |    Active Magic: Earth Manipulation & N/A  |    Bonded: N/A

Dawn had risen in Terrastella. The sun was already peaking up just over the horizon. The sunrise brought a sense of hope to Rhone. It had only been days since he was crowned Sovereign and while it was still taking some time adjusting to the new role, he felt as though he was doing as well as one could hope.

His mornings were always welcomed at the top of the cliff where he watered a small tree that he had grown the day he came to Novus. Each day he used his powerful magic to grow the tree in strength. Roots weaved unnaturally through limestone and sand. Somehow, the tree flourished. Had it not been for his magic, the tree would have long been swept away by the powerful winds or perhaps died from lack of proper soil and nutrients.

And yet, the tree lived and flourished. It was a sign to never lose hope, to always look on the bright side. It brought Rhone so much comfort.

But despite his desire to stand there forever, Rhone had a court to greet. With his new role came new responsibilities. He could not stay up here forever.

And so, Rhone made his way into the capital, meandering the streets and just observing. Those who made eye contact, he offered them a polite hello. He was learning new names to put with new faces and today would be no different. It was important to him to get to know his people. Oh how he wanted to know them all!

A foal came up to him, trotting lightly against the cobblestone walkway. The steady clip clop of his hooves brought a smile to his face. The child was carrying a beautiful bushel of roses. But then, the most disastrous thing happened. The child stumbled and the roses fall to the ground in a heap of broken stems and fallen petals. Sobbing, the child began to gather what was left of the bouquet he had picked for his mother. "Shhh…child, don’t cry…" His voice was soothing as he smiled down at the young foal. Using his magic, he watched as the stems began to heal, forming a stronger, thicker stem. Petals seemed to sprout from where the  others had fallen. Color seemed to become more bright and vibrant. The child’s eyes lit up with joy at the restoration of his bouquet. Rhone smiled at him as he watched him prance off in the direction of his mother. The mare’s eyes fell on him in silent thanks and he nodded his head to her. He sighed. These were the small things he loved more than anything.



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