to die by your side,

I watched as others arrived, careful to try and hide my appearance if any were to look my way, but it failed as a little porcelain filly looked my way. I was ready to turn and find my way into a more hidden spot before I noticed the smile she had sent me. I felt my heart pump slightly, the distance I had from the mammoth creature and the rest of those that had gathered made it difficult to see if it were a nervous type of smile or a genuine, happy to see you here, smile. My glassy eyes watched intently as the scene unfolded before me while my mind desperately tried to grasp the fact that the little filly might not have been frightened of me after all.

I was saved from my thoughts when Tembovu spoke. So many things had changed, and yet as I heard the name Mauja, my eyes shifted to seek out the spotted stag who also hung to the outskirts. My heart yearned for him, I didn’t know who Sno was, but I could see a dejected posture of the stag as he stood and listened. I, myself, stayed silent as he continued to speak. Raising an eyebrow to the idea of being a crafter, I watched carefully for different faces in the herd as Tembovu spoke of their names. He lastly spoke of being a Seer for the Moon Goddess and I snorted quietly to myself. What good did Gods do anymore? They weren’t ever helpful back home, but as I watched the mammoth speak I pushed the thought aside. Then the little filly spoke and I watched her with such a curiosity that it nearly hurt my heart. She was so intent on learning from the Goddess that I only wished I had as much innocent curiosity as I once did. Had nothing happened to me like it had, perhaps I’d be so blind in trusting gods as well.

But they happened to me, and I wasn’t about to let it happen again.

"Talk."

—is such a

heavenly

way to die.

d'Arcy was an odd child in the sense that she wasn't very childlike at all. Hey body was still small, ill-proportioned, and slightly awkward as most foals were at her age, but she didn't flop around like they did, didn't launch herself carelessly from one spot to the next as a means of discovering the world around her. No, more often than not she was still as stone, with eyes sober, watchful and mercilessly intent on whatever held her focus. She stood near her mother, while her brother circled them restlessly, but unlike her dearly beloved Libertad, she took her mothers words to heart and watched.

It fascinated her. Never before had she seen so many horses gathered together and it was not lost on her how they all seemed to watch the big one, Tembovu... She remembered him vaguely from the day she had come into the world, but despite his size she had been more interested in her brother, and in her father on that day. Déodat had drawn her to him with his sameness but before she could investigate the big one had driven him away. d'Arcy's eyes narrowed at the flickering memory as she watched the newly crowned Elephant King.

This was to be her first exposure to power... not magic, she'd seen her mother and brother wield such but that was different from what the stallion worked.

Power.

She didn't understand the concept, not fully, nor why it drew her attention like a moth to a flame. He spoke and others responded. He gave orders, made assignments, and no one seemed to question or argue, but fell in line with his will. It was a beautiful, beautiful thing. Politics, her mother had said, watch the others and learn, and d'arcy watched. d'Arcy learned.

The only thing that could have diverted her attention was Libertad. Her brother's pacing and boredom soon pulled at her enough to turn her cobalt eyes away from her sociology lesson. She frowned slightly, instantly unhappy to see him so discontent. As much as she might have liked to stay and bombard her mother with questions about the whos and whats and whys of this grown-up's meeting, her brother's happiness, as it always had, took precedence over her every desire. She pulled at her lips to smile for him and moved to tug affectionally at his mane in order get his attention. "C'mon." she whispered and then slunk off into the misty forrest and away from the meeting.


ooc// Woooo ambition-baby is heeeeere! @Nyx @Libertad

You'll see her in your nightmares, you'll see her in your dreams

She'll appear out of nowhere but she ain't what she seems

lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all,
but lend me your heart—

Only a handful of individuals arrive after the Warlander, though his eyes do not linger on them for long. For a rare moment in his life, Rohan’s attention is focused solely for another male, the mammoth of a stallion that stands at their head. Dark-rimmed ears swivel once before pressing forward, cupping Tembovu’s booming voice when it rumbles from his chest. The name Snö means nothing to the antlered warrior. He knows nothing of the mare that had fallen, and is ignorant to her relation to the spotted stallion; were he a more observant character, Rohan might have put the two and two together (judging by Mauja’s dejected state) but he is not, and so the connection remains lost to him.

All the same, his focus is quickly swept elsewhere when Tembovu continues, announcing himself as their new king. It is a surprise for the Warlander, and he casts a sharp glance towards Mauja, something between curiosity and disbelief playing along his features. How recently had the spotted stallion stepped down? Why had he done so? Flicking the thick length of his unruly tail, Rohan shifts his weight, pressing his lips together when he returns his attention to their newly-appointed leader.

He listens quietly as the elephant speaks, giving him a curt nod when his name is spoken, a sense of pride flaring through him. He does not love the Edge like some of the others here, but it gives him something to protect, gives him purpose, and he loves it for that. Looking to the horned behemoth, it doesn’t take long for the Warlander to decide on an opinion. While he doesn’t take particularly well to authority of any kind, he is glad to be under the direction of Tembovu—the man is just, he thinks, unlike the king he had grown up under. Tembovu will do them good. Seeking the other stallion’s eyes in the throng of people, he offers him a quiet nod of approval, of respect.


“Speech.”

AND I’LL JUST LET YOU FALL.

rohan

More appear as he speaks, others appear after he has finished. And some step forward claiming ranks for their own, while others remain silently at the edges. Mauja, his spotted friend, is a silent one, with the splashed Naerys equally silent beside him. He would have to speak with him later— a broken man needed purpose.

The little, abandoned Hera appears, and a small frown crosses his face as she tries to eat grass. Elsa is quick to help the filly, though his eyes land on the pregnant sides of his Glazer— perhaps she will be of help to the foal. His frown turns to a slight smile as Erthe exuberantly exclaims her excitement at his title. His black brows raise in surprise at her proclamation at wishing to follow Alune’s religious footsteps.

He watches his remaining Moon Doctors appear, Calista and Evangeline. They, with Alysanne, speak among themselves; Eva gifting a feather to the moon’s new apprentice. He nods marginally in approval, appreciating the generosity of his head Healer.

Newer herd members, Lithium, Hesperos, and a handsomely stripped man he has not met appear. The striped man remains silent, though Hesperos expresses interest in becoming a spy. “Then Sleuth you shall be, Hesperos.” The King is glad the pale stallion is seeking a new path, and new life, in Helovia.

He feels a jealous gaze that accompanies the appearance of Vadim. He watches him levelly, wondering if the man will challenge him— but the father only has eyes for his daughter. The Elephant softens, better understanding the man’s envy. His gaze is drawn to the beautiful Arah. “The Seers will welcome such a lovely mare to their Sage ranks,” his voice rolls as his great head nods briefly in greeting to the antlered woman.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nyx’s foal scamper off. Though he is busy watching Rohan, and feels a small victory at the respect with which the stallion nods towards him.

But the meeting is too easy, too smooth. It nearly lulls the new King into a sense of security in his title. But, quickly, that is shattered with each, frosty footfall of the newly appeared friesian stallion. He recognizes him from the last meeting, so long ago. Torliek the Bloodskald. The bearded man walks with purpose, gaze unfaltering as he weaves through the crowd.

He commands attention, impressive black frame parting the equines. And Tembovu’s attention does not waver from the cold, blue eyes. At his words, the Elephant pursed his thick lips, King regarding King. To the Elephant, an absent King was an unjust one. Without judicious excising of power, greed and injustice would seed and grow. But to make an enemy of such a formidable stallion and, more importantly, one who had been dedicated to the Edge… that was an unwise choice for a newly appointed King.

But, as the Elephant opens his mouth to address Torliek, the calm is further shattered by the Moon Goddess, herself. Her words, her smoke, her silken sarcasm invade the meeting. Easily, ruthlessly, she dethrones the Bloodskald with the herd as witness. Then her attentions turn on him.

At first, he meets her gaze squarely, towering above the Goddess who so easily played with mortal’s power. Yet, beneath the weight of her silver and pupil-less eyes, he feels her grow in the abstract, whilst he shrinks. So this is divine power; the Elephant is unsure he liked it. Her tart question of him, though perhaps not entirely begging a response, would not go unanswered, “My Lady, my apologies, please grace us with your opinion.” His tone was impassive, carefully so.

His eyes avert to Elsa as the Moon Goddess appoints her Queen. A smile turns up the corners of his pale muzzle and dark lips. Elsa would be a fine co-ruler, the bite to his diplomatic touch.

Blue gaze follows the black smoke of the Goddess, aptly choosing Alune as her Seer. He nods slightly towards the midnight giant, before returning his eyes to the Goddess. “Thank you for your illuminating choices,” he nods his giant head in a brief bow to divine woman. He struggles, and wins, against the urge to study and appreciate the svelte lines of her lavender body.

He turns to Nyx, “With Elsa as Queen, that leaves us without a General. You are, without doubt, the best choice to fill it.” A knowing smile crinkles the corners of his glinting blue eyes before turning to Rohan, “And we currently have no Sergeant. I would be glad to see you fill it, Rohan.”

Finally, he turns his attention to Torliek, the dethroned. “I would not go against the wishes of our Patron, and I do agree with her choice. An absent King cannot ensure just or proper leadership in a herd,” his low booming paused, assessing the man with respect, “However, your service to the Edge and experience with war cannot, and will not, go unnoticed. With Nyx as our General, we have no Captain. I offer you the position.” He considered offering the man Emissary— though would speak first to Mauja about the position.

His eyes glance to the Lady Moon, “Provided, of course, that my choices please our Goddess.” Only now did the barest hints of amusement and sarcasm color the baritone of his voice.

Eventide is softly casting o'er the earth a magic spell,

And a love-song, everlasting, on the night wind seems to swell.

Humming a happy, wordless tune where she stood, the filly had thought the meeting nearly over. There were a few ranks left to hand out, parting words to offer but she had thought for sure that none of them could apply to herself anymore. Erthë had made a choice, received approval of it in form of gifts and appreciative nods, her father had finally come home and everything seemed well, she was at peace with the world.

She was wrong. Like a storm cloud brewing, threatening with thunder and lightning, a tall, dark stallion appeared and pushed his way through the crowd. The filly blinked and straightened up as he spoke, his words a challenge if ever she had heard one. King? Him She hadn't even known there was any other kings besides Mauja. The dove couldn't recall ever even seeing this man, and now he stood there and demanded to keep a rank he couldn't have treasured all that much in the first place, if he'd left for so long.

Frowning she threw a glance at Tembovu, worried about what he might say or do, but before he had even opened his mouth another voice came drifting on the wind, one that was at once very familiar and completely unknown. Through widening eyes the filly watched as the Lady of Moonlight and Shadows stepped into their midst, felt the force of her presence wash over her. Not even aware that she was trembling, the filly gazed in awe at the goddess as she interfered with the workings of the herd. Without batting an eyelid she dethroned the wayward king and threw the crown with careless ease at the feet of another, at Elsa; Erthë smiled at this, approving whole heartedly - though she might have approved anyone, if the decision came from those lavender lips. She confirmed Tembovu's decision of appointing Alune as Seer too, and warmth blossomed within the heart of the child - this meant she could really be the apprentice of the seer after all! - and then... and then...

But even as she followed every movement of the Lady with her eyes, dazed and nearly incapable of thought as the magnitude of her divine presence overwhelmed her, Erthë found that she was experiencing a whole range of new emotions while gazing upon the lavender-hued immortal. Like before, awe and appreciation of Her power was a big part of what she felt, admiration for the flawless beauty and unparalleled mystery curving Her lips... but something else was finding its way into her adolescent heart that hadn't been there before.

It was something like longing, like unshed tears and a sliver of moon reflected on still waters, like a desire to reach out and touch it even though she knew the distant light would scatter and dissolve when she tried. Tasting grief and triumph and joyous despair on her tongue, Erthë acted without thinking. She reached down and plucked the most beautiful flower her eyes could find, and holding it gingerly in the coils of her prehensile tail she picked her way towards the Goddess, knees trembling as she approached the Matron of Night.

"For you" she whispered shyly, and extended the flower towards the goddess. It was the best she could do right now, but beside the peerless beauty of the Moon the little cliff-side weed seemed so woefully inadequate.

Even so the girl smiled; even if she was ignored and overlooked, it was enough to have been allowed to gaze upon the Lady again, more than enough to feel the weight of the black tooth She had gifted Erthë against the chest - and blessing beyond her dreams, should the immortal Queen allow her to keep the exquisite lavender feather that sat braided into her pale curls.