tembovu

Those who stand for nothing fall for anything.

Long, sweeping strides of the Elephant wound his heavy body though the trees. By now, it had become a mindless walk, his body finally at home and at ease among the thick trunks. At first it had been so different from the pains of Dorobo— one could walk in an unwavering line forever there. No obstacles stood in one’s path. But here, in the misty forests of the Edge, it had taken time for the giant to learn to weave effortlessly through the trees.

But he had learned. There had been much to think on since he had arrived to Helovia, and thus much time to spend drifting between trees while lost in thought. Today was no exception, as ideas of leadership and axioms waxed and waned through his large skull. Though he had settled himself mentally into the role of lead and acknowledged the need for generalized ideals, he was not sure as to what those should be.

His maxim had been revenge and destruction until he came here. How did one build things? That was a much tougher question, indeed.

The Edge followed the shadowed path of the Moon. He had seen her at the Rift battle— had even felt gratitude towards her when she healed his melting flesh. Despite the history of her murders and devious nature, he had not encountered such things with her. Though he had felt the destructive and cold edge of her power when the Glazier magic had flowed through him.

It had been a relief to feel it drain out of him when he had mentally accepted the role of King. It had been one of the few, redeeming aspects of taking Mauja’s crown. It did not feel right to take purpose from a broken man… But not all men are created the same. Some seek purpose and labor when shattered. Others seek solitude and reflection.

Dark blue eyes blink rapidly against the sudden brightness as he breaks from the trees. A vision of their awe-inspiring cliffs blazes into his stunned retinas. As the sunspots clear, a large equine comes into focus beside him. It is nearly as large as himself and built as sturdy as his heavy frame.

Thickly horned head swivels to look at this newcomer— he must be a recruit he had not yet met. He almost frowned at the thought, for surely leaders ought to meet all newcomers passing through the glass spikes. He stored the thought for a later time.

The Elephant bobs his great head in greeting, “Hello, I’m Tembovu, King of the Edge,” it was so strange to introduce himself as such, “I’ve not seen you around yet, and I’m certain I couldn't miss one as large as myself. You’re new to the Edge?” Though he phrased it as a question, the words were more asking of the large stallion beside him. Indeed, his uniquely midnight coloring, misty mane, and bladed horns were quite a lot to ask after. A lopsided smile hovered at the corners of his thick lips as he awaited his answer.