Archibald stood dangerously close. The heat radiated towards him, grasping for his dark coat with its alluring fingers. Before him stood a tree, large and unusual. The tree was composed of the blue lava that surrounded the veins. The blue and black roots tangled down into the earth and spilled into the pools of magma. Each branch was adorned with magma leaves, shimmering a brilliantly painted blue. The tree was ever in motion, the bark churning like the pools the roots spilled into. There were three trees, but the one before him was representative of Circe. He just knew it was her tree. He her presence as he stood before it, watching the beauty and danger mix together with his molten gold eyes. Like her. His chest tightened as a dark hand grasped his heart, puncturing the blackened muscle with knives and daggers. Loretta whined in the distance, having stayed behind. It was much too warm for her arctic coat to handle, surrounded by the magma and churning lava. Juxtaposed, this was a time of silence and privacy for the stallion. This was a grave site, or as close to one there could be with the destruction of the Sky Island, and Archibald was here to mourn.

Ktulu was off with Ophelia in the north, and Lakota and Apollo were scarce. His children were in the safety of the Dragon's Throat--tucked away from the Moon Godess' claws. His twin's residence was unknown, but Archibald had not seen Vincent since the ark of the Earth God. He was alone to mourn the loss of his wife. Here he was, with a solemn expression gripping his face, turning it from its stoic, hand-cut stone to soft clay. Emotions throbbed within his body, each pushing against the surface and trying to escape from each of his pours. One dominated the rest, and it was sorrow. Sorrow washed over his muscled and scarred hide like the ocean tide against the rocks of his kingdom's cliffs. It overwhlemed the other emotions and swallowed them into its depths, growing until it devoured everything the Dauntless felt. "Oh, Circe..."

The Dauntless was lost in own thoughts as he stood before the tree. The heat wrapped up his solid, strong limbs, but it did not make him feel uncomfortable. There was a strange comfort in it, actually, that reminded him on Circe's embrace. It had always been warm and loving, welcoming and yet challenging. Just as the heat that surrounded him from the locking, churning, boiling blue lava. The Dauntless wanted to press his forehead into the churning bark, but was wise enough not to do so, and instead just stood in the tree's presence with his eyes pressed closed.

"...Mister Archibald?"

the Dauntless lifted his head and his ears turned toward the sound. Brows knit together as he turned to face the smaller girl. Confusion wrapped around his mind for a moment as it tried to pinpoint to face and familiarity with rapid fire precision. His tail flicked against his hocks and his ears twitched. Archibald knew this girl before him, this young master of the wind and sword mixed together with elegance and strength, but he did not know her. "Yes?" He asked, golden eyes tracing over her slight frame. She was covered in gold, crimson and black, and as the word left his lips realization hit him like a freight train. "Ranjiri." He breathed, taking a step toward the hybrid filly--or, rather, young mare.

He remembered the girl dancing on the bluffs of the Foothills when she was but a youngling, suckling at her mother's side. A need so familiar, a desire so overwhelming suddenly grasped Archibald's body. He felt it towards his own sons, his daughter, and now this girl before him that he thought to be gone (not dead, but gone). It was the need to protect and provide.

There was nothing about this little girl that was memorable in her actions, that was true. She was but a babe when they resided in the same kingdom, but from who she was born made her memorable. Ktulu held charge of part of Archibald's heart. Together they had bled and struggled and fought. Together they had seen triumph and victory. Together they had known the taste of struggle and strife. For some time they were separated only to be united once more. They stood now, partners of arms, a force to be reckoned with. Ranjiri was a part of Ktulu, as her child, despite any resentment that may be present. Archibald knew children to have a mind to seek their own identities, but no matter what they tried they were always the blood of another. Archibald the Dauntless would always be the son of Mandrake. Reginald and Abraham would always be the sons of Archibald. Macaria would always be the daughter of Archibald. Ranjiri would always be the daughter of Ktulu. His massive head gave her a simple nod, eyes softened as he looked down upon her.

"This tree is what stands now as a vigil to a soul, lost into darkness." Archibald motioned toward the tree, turning his body so he was no longer facing the golden girl, but looking head on to the tree. It's beauty reached skyward and the blue danced elegantly on its surface. "It represents Circe, a fallen warrior of the Grey and my love." Archibald's voice was cold as he spoke, detached. The sorrow and agony he felt could no longer manifest itself in any way but cold apathy. He had cried too many tears, choked on emotions he never thought to even exist in his body, and screamed far too long into the darkness of the night sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Archibald watched the girl. She had to be suffering, too. Ktulu had lost a son just as Archibald had lost a mate. This meant that Ranjiri had lost her brother. Archibald understood that pain, too. "Are you okay, child?"

The girl gave her condolences, and Archibald could only nod. He had no words to offer her of thank you's, don't worry about it, or it's okay's. He was hurting, deep in his soul, and she knew that. Even in her young age she held wisdom beyond her years, something Ophelia had said Abraham possessed, and a flicker of pride jumped like a candle in his heart. Looking from the tree to the girl, Archibald listened as she spoke. In his mind, he saw Loretta pacing. She pulled to him from their bond, agitated that she was being forced to stay in the heat for so long. The Dauntless transmitted the images of the hybrid girl. The bitch grumbled and turned her heels, heading towards the cool, comfortable atmosphere of the World's Edge without her master. Archibald's jaw set with a touch of anger towards the dog, but he loosened it quickly. He did not want the youngling to think his anger was for her. It was not. She had done nothing, she was innocent.

She was hurting, too.

Although, she passed it off quickly. Her torch of sorrow was snuffed out and dismissed with not even a shake of her head or a drop in her voice. Archibald's brows knit and his face moved into a pained grimace. "It will devour you if kept locked away." It was a warning to the girl, a simple plea of a man who had walked years of life before her. Do not let it consume you. Do not become me. When Ranjiri referenced Ktulu in her question, Archibald looked away from her once more. He turned his body away from the tree and started moving away from the veins, away from the shrines. He bobbed his head and slung his shoulder forward. Follow me, walk with me he gestured, tail flicking against his strong hocks. "Your mother is with your aunt in the Aurora Basin. Ophelia is the Lady there, and together they are mourning. The bond between twins is something deep and not understood by non-twins." Archibald spoke of the bond between twins that was formed by being wombmates. He wondered if Ranjiri would be upset that Ktulu had gone to her sister and not to her child--but did Ktulu even know where Ranjiri was? Had it been the Constrictor's choice to keep her heart closed from her daughter, or a crime on innocence that would be able to be mended with time? There was not an ounce in the filly's voice that gave way to a resentment or anger towards her crimson mother, but Archibald assumed it nonetheless. "Do you have anyone else?"

Archibald moved carefully, slowly, his walk controlled and careful. He kept his ears on the girl as she moved with him, talking with him. His eyes, however, scanned the land before them. He planned to walk to a cooler, more comfortable place. It seemed that a great deal had happened in Ranjiri's life, and Archibald was curious to know about it. If this filly was anyone else the Dauntless suspected he would care less for her life, but she was Ktulu's daughter. He felt this girl close to his heart, one of his family. He would not release her so easily in the years to come. Flies bugged at Archibald's flanks and he swatted them off with his thick, plumed tail. Ranjiri asked her simple question, and Archibald frowned. It was a curious thing, but around this young hybrid the King did not veil his face to stone like he did with such normalcy in all other interactions. "I am a twin, indeed." Archibald started, voice low and calm. "My twin brother's name is Vincent. Unlike Ktulu and Ophelia, Vincent and I are identical in looks. The only difference between us is disposition, and it damn near makes us look completely different, we've been told."

Archibald's heart sputtered and panged as he spoke of Vincent. He had not seen the massive sibling in quite some time, and Archibald desired more than most things in his life for the equally as large stallion to rest easily at his side. He had not known any different until he came to Helovia--but, to Archibald's realization, he spent more of life away from Vincent than with him now at this age. It had been nearly five years since the twins stood inseparably. It was a blow to Archibald. He was meant to protect his brother, to guide him, to make life easier on the skittish brute. Archibald sighed, however, shaking the thoughts from his head as the filly continued their conversation.

Archibald had inquired if she had support, and what the filly gave him in response made an odd comfort rest in his belly. Her brother, Cera, was one that she listed. Archibald's eyes flickered to her with a silent question. Perhaps the boy she mentioned was Midas' son, for Archibald knew Cera did not come from Ktulu's womb. Surprise, however, widened Archibald's eyes. "You have a son? You're but a child." The statement was not meant to damn her or offend her, but it was merely a spittle of Archibald's thoughts. Her next supporter surprised the Dauntless as well, but he gave no quip. What would Ktulu think of such a stallion--the one who had been used to kill her son--being so close to her daughter?