There is something behind the throne

Quilyan

greater than the king himself.

It is important for leaders to show control over their subjects, and equally as important for the lower-ranked members of a herd to show deference to their rulers. Although both the Necromancer and the Gallant are quick to rebuke the two-horned steed's rude advance, the prince cannot help but wonder how much discord resides in the Hidden Falls. For a highly-ranked member of the herd to blatantly disregard the cues of his leaders does not speak well for the solidarity of the herd, and he makes a mental note that all may not be well within these borders. Still, the two-horned idiot falls silent quickly enough upon his superiors' rebuttal, which is a step in the right direction. The Specter wonders vaguely if the rift between the rulers and the Addict has grown or shrunk since their arrival in this land, but puts it out of his mind as the conversation moves on.

They begin to walk, welcomed into a land that the prince had yet to explore. Although invited to fly, he is uncomfortable with the idiot's continued presence and apparent dislike of his beloved, so he elects to remain by her side. Though he longs to hold her close, protect her under his wing, he does not want to take away her authority - so he merely brushes his wingtips along her side as they ascend into the Falls. The stairs are just that, a natural representation of the stone steps that had been so common in his homeland, and for a moment he is bombarded with memories - climbing to new heights in the towers with his siblings; dropping from the battlements with a cry of delight during a thunderstorm; meekly accompanying his father to crown meetings, only to sit silently and miss the warning signs that his Council was prepared to move against him...

But that was a long time ago; that is not here, that is not now. No, here and now, Resplendence is complimenting the fortress that is the Hidden Falls, Dragomir is chuckling over the misfortune of their herd - but he is stuck silently in a past that no longer matters, that no one remembers, that no one understands. He remains silent, the spray from one of the waterfalls misting his coat, leaving him glistening slightly, as though he has just stepped out of the rain. If only it could cleanse him, could leave him fresh and young and naive; if only it could erase the pain of a future never realized, the regret of a youthful stallion convinced he deserved more, the memory of his own idiocy and arrogance and pride. And, knowing that these things are with him for the rest of his life, he struggles against a sudden surge of despair, an uncomfortable realization of misery that he has avoided for all these years.

All this because of the damn stairs.

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

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