It would take much more than the distance between Dorobo and Helovia, to bring the loyalty and friendship shared between the two Stallion's to it's knees, Kiuaji's mind was as an old dragon's, stubborn and defiant to let such pitiful things steal from it's treasure. It had been that very friendship and fealty which had brought this gilded specter out from the pages of the past, from the pages Tembovu had turned and left to memories, and into the present. Memories had become flesh again, determined to be written about once more with more fervor and light hearted tones, as they had been in the beginning of the long tale. 

Where were they indeed, for he looked naked and unlike himself when he was denied his luxuries, at least, that was what he felt. The poisoner looked much better when swathed in expenses and trickery, they helped to further conceal his intentions all the more. Now they were scattered to the four corners of Dorobo, the smaller of the two assumed, as he had passed them off to a contact a number of days before his departure. No matter, he was sure Tembovu could point him in the direction of crafters of such finery here.


"I would look out of place with a foal at my side, no?" Kiuaji smirked, amusement dancing in the deep pools of violet. Faxr had been a different story, he had known Mara and Tembovu all of his life, he found himself warmed towards the offspring of his dear friends in a way he could not summon to feel for one of his own. Truly, Faxr had brought something out of Kiuaji that he not felt before, like a proud Uncle he had doted when he believed no one was looking. Like an proud Uncle laid low in the ashes of hidden emotions, he had mourned when Mara and Faxr became victims to Makutano's vicious agenda. The poisoner mourned privately, silently behind closed doors and a veil of harsh winter as he sought to get his vengeance for Dorobo, for Mara and Faxr, for the other families brought to ruin by greed that was not their own.

'That's a weird name. Not bad, though!' He snorted at those words, weird name? His name was perfectly normal and so very fitting — if anything, Rein was the odd one out in this impromptu get together. Kiuaji didn't miss the pride the little one had put into his name when he had announced it, and for that the effeminate stud could give him his due. Introductions were everything, if you stuttered and stumbled over your own name, then you would forever be the fool that couldn't say his name. "Rein, does your name have a meaning?" He questioned lightly, names often had meanings, didn't they? Gifted by parents to be fitting representations of their offspring as they grew into fine young adults, and wizened elders.


King of the Edge.

Kiuaji's glittering orbs turned to his friend once more, a look of surprise and then belated mirth appeared on his delicate features. "Well, I never thought I would be addressing you as King one day, your Majesty." his tone turned playful, "when were you going to tell me you'd taken up the mantle of King? Or were you hoping to surprise me with it later?"

Any more words that had been on the tip of his tongue are soon pushed aside when a golden hued mare stepped into their thicket, Rein's mother he assumed as she quickly pulled him to her side. Usually, he wouldn't of bothered paying her much attention, as a foolish mother allowing her child to prance off without good reason was undeserving of his time, it was her appearance which drew it instead. "She's a dead ringer of Mara." He stated in disbelief, unabashed in his announcement of the gold mare's similarities to his deceased friend and mate of the Elephant King.

Is this why he knows her? Was Tembovu chasing ghosts of lost love down gilded hallways? Chasing maidens who reminded him so dearly of how Mara had looked in the halls of his heart? She had been the sun, filled with light and sweetness, bringing with her the breath of spring and fresh air. This maiden smelled of deep winter and brought the cold withering air of the north with her.


To Kiuaji, she was no sun, she was no bringer of light and kindled of passionate fires. She was an imposter, with a foal at her heels that wasn't crafted in Tembovu's image.

Had Tembovu gotten to know this creature out of hope? Wanting this maiden to fill his heart, with the same music and light as Mara had?

He wanted to ask, he wanted to know,  if he was right.



_______________________________________________________________________________

notes;;

talking