Like a Leviathan from the legends of olde, from scriptures the man would never have laid eyes upon, the world had yawned its massive mouth and sucked him into the vortex of its sinful natures. A king with a crooked crown and a painted face, a clown in regal robes. He was tired of the strain, of the twitch that grew and strained in his cheeks with every gentle smile forced to his face. The visages of his citizens got him by through days where hope seemed thin and lost. Even in the blistering heat, the moon rose with a steady ascent every night, mocking the king as it boiled his rage hotter than the sun could ever imagine. It forced upon him a famine, a starved hunger for revenge, for justice, that he'd never cared for previously. So long as others left him and his alone, so he would for them. The Goddess had not touched any of his flock, whether out of oversight or some twisted love for her obedient slaves was beyond his at times primitive mindset. When the heat grew too much, when even Rue could not calm the fiery tempest in his heart, the king fled.

It was not his job nor his habit to flee, but it seemed more often as of late it had been the penned ending to his narratives. It was a fate seen plentifully in Kahlua's book, her sagas of life like a thousand silk spiders spinning tantalizing webs of adventure and abandonment. And though she had accused him of desiring only to remain within the borders, Kaj had often stared down at the pages of his own life, despairingly blank and creased only with the horrors of blood and blade in terms of interesting developments. So he had thrown the leatherbound tome, screamed to the air in the silence of his solitude and shed free the shackles that bound him, home and earthen.

Still, in days of absence, of flight and nomadic wandering of hooves through forests he'd never been allowed to appreciate, he had begun to heal. If only in halves and splinters, but still. A band-aid upon a gaping wound was better than letting it drip and fester, attracting predators to feast upon his westbound flesh. The lapping, rhythmic waves of the Edge had long since imprinted themselves inside the veins of his body, until his heartbeat echoed their useless raging against the bleached cliffs. It was an attachment to the land, to the family it had deigned to provide him, and to have it corrupted so easily by the Goddess he'd held a distant respect for drove the king to solace in the only other body of water he could recall.

Sands glittered cream, near white beneath the vengeful rays of the solar heat, the water glimmering in its cerulean beauty. Unforgiving, beguiling those who thought her heart lay easy and unguarded at sea. It reminded him of eyes too bright for a world too dark, and yet with a dagger he'd never anticipated. For a moment he shut his eyes against the onslaught, allowing the winds to carry him, never fearing for a moment that he would falter or fall. A child of the skies knew best their limits, after all. For a while he circled endlessly, no real purpose or method to his floating, no reason to embark upon the soft granules below. At least, until a familiar ghost fell beneath his radar, flickering just like the wraith his mind compared her to.

With a smooth banking motion he dipped his left wing, allowing the wind to whistle past, stroking through newly growing hairs from his encounter with Valiance. Kaj descended slowly, eyes upon the nameless babe, the one he could never mistake. He hadn't been there to attend her birth, though he'd lingered on the outside of the group, a shadow in all intents and purposes. She'd not deserved to have awoken for the first time to the tension still apparent between he and Kahlua. And though he still longed to fulfill his promise, to help in the rearing of the babe, she'd come about in a time where his shoulders were burdened and his time whittled away unfairly by important matters. The golden stag swore to himself that the day would be hers, however she desired to spend it. With or without him.

As he lands he strides toward the child, her mannerisms whispered about unfairly in the mists, a preparation for their first real meeting. At first he feels mildly queasy, to see her disappearing - or so he thinks - into the water of her surroundings. It's disorienting, but as he rights himself, he finds that it's...enchanting, almost. Finally he spoke, a voice like soft thunder reaching for her ears, allowing her whatever space she desired if she took the time to leave the Edge to find her version of grace and solitude.

"Naamloos," sprang to his lips, soft, unobtrusive. Nameless. "Your magic...it is enchanting. Does it bring you peace?" He was curious to know, though she did not owe him an answer he soon realized. She likely didn't even know his name. "I am Kaj. May I join you?" Would she recall him? Had anyone spoken to her about him before, or was he merely another face in the crowd, his desires to bond with her too late in their budding?

Nary a hair flinches or stirs upon her hide as he descends, unobtrusive though his movements had been her control was simultaneously concerning and respectful. For a moment he merely allowed his eyes to lay upon her, a canvas of curiosity. Was it forced, her solitude? Her stillness? Were they fundamentally connected, in a way his simplistic eyes could not see? Having her so far from home made him tremble inside with the pangs of worry and wariness. Over years of bloodshed and violence, peace and the good of man had erased itself from the books of his life. Trust was a hard thing to come by in the realm he'd ended up in, powerful though she undoubtedly was with celestial blood strong and possessive in her veins, he could not help but see her as the child she was. Regardless of her growth. He mused over her reaction were she privy to his thoughts, she was odd in ways Kaj had never found in foals, her speech perhaps most contrasting. It did nothing to dull or dwindle the love he already had for her, small and tender though it was with their lack of interaction.

Eyes like molten gold and sorrow flickered between his countenance and the endless expanse of the ocean, words concrete in opposition with her flighty gaze and whimsical mannerisms. Kaj made no move to near any further than his hooves had already trailed, giving her the space she so seemed to desire. There was a clarity of understanding in him, a smooth pearl of wisdom in his mind that gave his subconscious what it needed to allow her to open up. There was always a reason behind Isopia's actions, that was something Kaj had come to understand from the whispered tales of his people. Her seclusion was no accidental, and so he would allow her the room she needed to find herself, her center. It was not within his realm of power to intrude upon that space, regardless of what she thought philosophically.

It was understandable that she would know him, but it nonetheless erased the quiet fears lingering in the back of his mind. Kahlua was not so cruel as to keep from her that knowledge, for even if he was not her father he was still her King, and a matter of importance even outside of intimate reasoning. The child's frown was contemplative, piercing down upon him as if he were a stubborn piece of a puzzle, frustrating in the fact that he had no real place yet seen. It was endearing to him, in a way. Her lack of understanding lit a fire beneath his paternal desires, and Kaj tilted his regal head to regard her even as she turned her eyes away from him to the clouded expanse above.

"What part of it do you not understand? Perhaps I can explain it to you." It was an offer, nothing more. He craved and desired her trust, and though Kaj often thought little of himself in terms of intelligence, he would give all he could to supply her bank and library of knowledge. In his own way. He was easily an unreliable source, so driven by heart and primordial instincts as he was, but he prayed she would not condemn him for that.

Her voice was like mysticism and martyr complexes woven together, inspiring pride and worry in the stag at changing intervals. Nonetheless he smiled, private and a little understanding. "I believe what you are saying...it is how I feel when I am flying at high altitudes, looking down upon the earth. It makes me see how small I am. A little piece in a big structure." Laughing softly to himself the king shook his head, imagining with some fond amusement what Archibald would have grunted in response to his wistful musings. "Or maybe I'm assuming I understand what you mean." She was so much deeper than he was, yet another who made him realize how stunted he was, how useless in some ways.

Nevertheless he took her singular word as permission, giving her space even as he strode into the water, embracing the coolness that spread throughout his body. Chasing away the spiking temperatures of the season. Still, he could not help but hear the tremor of her voice, the lack of surety. Gazing at her from the corner of his eye, he wondered who it was that had taught her that meekness. "Did my question unsettle you, or my actions? I implore you to not always conceal your thoughts from me. All I desire is to help," Kaj murmured softly, trying and failing to word his sentence properly. She'd likely only be more upset by him sounding like he was demanding she do one thing over another, reveal her innermost workings where others would find that the highest offence. "I never wish to make you uncomfortable." Was it that she had not desired him to be so close? To partake in the water with him? Or was Kaj simply over thinking everything in his worry for her?

He held no qualms with how she kept her gaze from his, allowing her to mull through his words as she desired. Kaj had already figured that she was unique (never strange, never weird, he would never call her something so horrible, something he knew would stick in her psyche no matter how special she was), and he would happily, patiently, wait through whatever systems she had to digest what he'd given her. He only hoped that it was something of value, something more than the awkward, stumbling phrases his family might have offered her. He knew they meant well, knew their hearts almost as well as his own. But that also meant that Kaj was well aware of how their words could stumble, their meanings lost in the awkward emotions they couldn't traipse through elegantly. He also knew how much it could hurt, those blurted accidental phrases. Had she been wounded by them, as well?

Finally she began to speak, giving him pause from the worries that had begun to breed and fester in his breast. He hummed softly, contemplating them, trying to find the right angle to explain it to her. Once upon a time, he had stripped from himself and blocked off all entangled emotions. Perhaps he could see it from an impartial, mechanical view. Or perhaps he would end up confusing her ever further. Kaj vowed to at least try his tongue against the subject, for her sake.

"Kahlua is scared of foals, of children of any intellect. She is terrified of being depended on, and this is not merely speculation, she's told me so herself," he made sure to clarify as he went on, not wanting her to dismiss him with a psychological analysis done by someone not in the right field or with the right amount of skill in the area. He tried to stick only to facts, to not let his own row with Kahlua bleed into what he was telling her. It would be unfair to them all. "What I think she needed wasn't a physical support, nor anyone to help her with you in the way that you think. You are a very independent soul, Namloos. Not most foals are, as I'm sure you know. She likely needed help emotionally, to help her heal from what she would see as a traumatic experience - giving birth to you, having you supposedly chain her down." God, if she had found words hard to find when asking him the questions, then Kaj knew exactly how she felt. His tongue felt thick even when he carefully thought out his words, but he simultaneously attempted to keep her from waiting too long for his answers.

"Also, most equines are emotionally dependent upon friends, family. No, I could not have shouldered the pain that the physical birth would have put upon her. But having another there would have made her feel less lonely, given her courage through whatever physical pain there was." Taking a deep breath, he realized it was easier than he had expected to think of, even speak of, Kahlua in an objective way. Perhaps the child really was wiser than he or any others gave her credit for. Life, at least, was simpler without those qualms. But Kaj had also known the beauty, the strength that could be given with those emotions. It was a double edged sword. He had cut those feelings from him once; would he ever be tempted to again?

"After the birth, it's also an emotional problem. She does not see herself as a fit mother, she would want the herd and those close to her to help her raise you into a fine young mare, which she did not believe herself capable of. Others to love and nurture you, rather than reject and isolate you as she might have, which would have horrible effects on most foals who are born underdeveloped and malleable." Was that even a good explanation? Kaj remembered how Aniela had been, when she had first been born. Even the most basic of sounds had been a challenge for her, and words hadn't cropped up for even longer. She had been weak, pitiful, and not nearly as brilliant as Isopia was the moment she was born. Yet they had both turned out to be so amazing, Isopia had just hit her stride far earlier. Why was it that so many others found her to be odd, then?

His brow furrowed the moment Alysanne and Brisa were brought into the situation, the conversation. "I'm sorry, Namloos. I don't know why she would apologize to them, I can't give you an answer to that." Though he felt mildly as if he had failed her, he let it slip past him to give him room to focus on her next words, strained and uncomfortable though they were. Instinctively they drove him to desire, wanting to move closer and wrap his mighty wing round her ever-sprouting frame. But it was not a discomfort that he could chase away in that manner, and he regretted that in some secretive part of himself. "The relationship extending to Alysanne and Brisa is the only thing I understand. If you are close with someone, you desire to know more about their life. Those three are very close, and because Kahlua and I were once involved together, they likely spoke of me because I was suddenly important to Kahlua as well. Because they are friends, they are privy to information about Kahlua and I - not as King and Queen, but as Kaj and Kahlua. But as for the apology...as I said, I have no idea. If it soothes your mind any, it seems odd to me, as well," he offered with a light smile and a soft chuckle aimed her way.

It was returned, though on a different matter, and Kaj inhaled the salted air gratefully. It reminded him of Thor's accusations, that Kaj was so absorbed in his status, his title, that he was no longer the man he supposedly once was. And it took the poison from those words, one little girl's ramblings, and gave him a little bit of peace to cling to. "Yes," he agreed on a delighted breath. "You are wise in a way even old stallions are not," he laughed softly with a wink sent her way, seriousness wrapped in a joking end. The workings of the cosmics that he could never understand, world, the continent, the region, the herd...the importance dwindled with each denomination, and they were merely little specks that temporarily aided a machine that could easily go on without them. Though, that was also why Kaj believed in doing his best with what little time he had, enjoying everything he could, feeling so intensely that others frowned upon him. But why not? With such a small importance, why not go a little mad?

And then they were back to the waiting game.

But Kaj had raised Aniela, and helped with various other foals born before Isopia in the Edge. Dithering, hesitancy...it was something that even the brilliant star before him could not help but fall prey to in her youth. So he waited, until like a clam believing itself safe she pried herself open again to reveal her pearl of truth. And he saw in her the same scared, fearful question that so many other foals asked their parents; am I normal?

"No, Namloos. You are not normal. But hold no shame to your heart because of that," here tone of voice turned stronger, pressing deep into her, wanting to brand that one sentence deep into her mind if nothing else. "Foals, and equines in general, have a very large dependence upon their emotions. It consumes them, it drives our hearts and muddles our minds. You have a distinct distance, I believe, from what a supposedly normal heart feels. But it means that you see things clearer, that you cannot fall prey to things that would manipulate or fool you. It is a good thing, in some ways." He was careful not to phrase it as 'normal' directly, to make her feel as if she was somehow not. She was simply divergent from what they were used to. And what they were used to was not always right.

"But it is a double edged sword, Namloos. Emotion can be a beautiful thing, and I do not know you well enough to know how deep you feel, how often. But even if you feel only inklings, child, that does not make you any less special. To see with such clarity is something many, myself included, would envy. We all seek balance. You merely are tipped on the other side of the scale. We feel too much, you in contrast we believe to be too little. But what we're used to is not always right, Namloos. And the current that we ride in is always capable of change." Whether or not she found any comfort in it, or whether she needed comfort at all wasn't information Kaj was privy to in that moment. But he tried his best, mortal man that he was, and hoped that he had done her some sort of good.

"Nature has no emotion. Not truly. It is a machine, it could live with or without us. It is uncomplicated." He cast his eyes across the horizon with an appreciative smile, then directed it to the lost soul at his side. "Why wouldn't you like it better?" he laughed quietly, hoping to settle her mind, draw away her guilt like a siphon. "We are all crazy creatures, otherwise. Horribly complicated. I'd certainly like nature better to; in fact, I do. That's why I ended up here, alone." Until he had found her, of course. And he was grateful that he had.