”You must fully appreciate the glass that you would wield against your enemies. The Moon Goddess’s words echoed in the Elephant King’s head. He felt like this task set for the herd was one directed at him. He had been her Glazier, once. He had crafted the very glass they asked the nightly deity to erect around their borders.

And yet, despite having spent his time crafting the clear substance from the Moon’s mists, he understood very little of it. He knew it withstood some things, but broke beneath others. Was it magic that had caused the glass wall to shatter? Or had it given way due to other causes? He sighed, staring at the glittering shards that littered the lush, Birdsong grass before him. How relieved he would be when such fragments would be replaced with tall, protective glass spikes.

He sighed as he weaved on large, ivory hooves, thick neck swaying in the morning light diffused by the thick mists. Have your crafters make glass targets and see what types of magic they are most defensible against, and which they are least.” Dark eyes glanced up at his newly appointed Glazier who stood, quietly but happily, a little ways away from him. He had sought her out, after pointing Anzanie in the direction of the healers’ greenhouse.

“Glasgow,” his deep voice rumbled quietly, “Would you be able to create glass targets? Of varying sizes? We must learn the strength and weaknesses of the glass we are about to erect around our borders, as the Goddess instructed us.” Black-rimmed ears tip forward as he awaited the woman to command and shape the mists. A small twinge of longing twisted in his barrel; but it was quickly squashed by the memory of being trapped on his knees by the cold power and his dark demons.

He would leave the crafting to his Glaziers and focus on testing the glass’s strength.

Tembovu

you thought you could outrun the world

Imani didn't really understand what was going on in the herd he'd wandered into.  He had seen many things going on that made little sense to his mind, so he stayed in the shadows and watched.  He wasn't truly sure how to make himself useful, or how to fulfill any part of this rank he was suddenly a part of.  A minor one, for sure, but he still felt he should be doing something.  With that resolution, he had wandered to find Tembovu (though somewhat reluctant to impose on him) and find some useful task to set himself to.

What he found was the Elephant King with a scarred mare, doing something with the eternal mists of the Edge.  His eyes widened as physical things began to take shape from the mist, apparently under the mare's concentration.  It was beautiful.  Almost shyly he edged forward as she finished to inspect the thinnest of the targets, marveling a bit at it's delicacy.  He had never seen magic before and it was truly a wonder to behold.  He backs away a few steps and turns his odd eyes to the Glazier.

"That's incredible!  I've never seen anything like this."  His enthusiasm for a moment is directed at the small, scarred mare, then his ears sweep back and his eyes drop a touch as he realizes he may have interrupted something.  Still, his embarrassment cannot overcome his curiosity.  It only tempers the eager energy in his voice to something almost apologetic.

"I didn't mean to intrude.  What is this all for?"  He tilts his head to indicate the targets, odd eyes flicking between Tembovu and the mare with glass magic.

Imani

Kiuaji

the serpent within the mist

The King smiled at Glasgow’s tempered excitement and closely watched the woman craft the glass. It seemed that, to her, the crafting was a blessing and a gift. Her face did not darken, her eyes did not cloud as his had when he crafted glass. So he was relieved, for some part of him had been concerned that she would be burdened as he had been by the darkness of the crafting magic.

A black-rimmed ear slanted sideways, followed by his great skull, as another’s voice sounded. His navy blue eyes found Imani’s two-toned eyes, and he was surprised at the ease of which his previous superstitions had died once he had led and welcomed the striped man into the Edge. A small, lopsided grin covered thick, dark lips at the Imani’s wonder and enthusiasm; for, indeed, he had felt similarly when he had first seen magic in Helovia. So his deep rumble was mildly amused as he answer the question of what the glass was for, “We’ll be testing its strength against sheer force and magics.”

His head swung, a deep chuckle rumble from his barrel, as his childhood approached and jested of his ’rippling muscles’, “Never one to miss a show, Aji.” His entertained words trail off as he watches his effeminate friend elegantly lower his slender frame to the ground, delicately curled mane setting in waves around him. The Elephant shook his head slightly, lips pressed together in amusement, beginning to turn from the others and approach on of the medium-sized glass creations of Glasgow.

But his steps were halted as his other Glazier approached, his eyes narrowing slightly as the lovely splashed woman’s gaze carefully avoided his own. His ears swing forward, head tilting, as she formally greeted them all and then quietly (hesitantly?) addressed himself. Great skull dropped to the height of her lowered head, gaze seeking to meet her own, “Thank you, Anzanie,” his deep voice was equal parts sincere and worried, “I’m not sure if Glasgow will need help making more glass after we’ve tested all of these.” He paused, lips parting to say swomthing more—to ask if she was alright. But another’s arrival interrupted his quiet, personal question.

His head rose, swinging and nodding a greeting to his Specter, “Hello, Raeden.” He smiled as he turned back towards and approached the medium sized glass shield again, letting the beautiful golden women explain the crafting strengths of all the herds. Mbwene hung back, folding her short legs beside Kiuaji and lying near him in the plush, dry grass. Her trunk reached out to stroke his silken, soft, metallic tresses.

And the Elephant King carefully prodded the dormant, raging heat in his chest. Sweat immediately began to prickle his skin, welling and darkening at his flanks. Controlling this hot magic required so much effort. His breaths were deep, slow, and controlled as his chest grew warm, and then hot. And, miraculously slowly, a magma elephant slowly dripped from his chest; so slow did it leave his skin that he smelled the delicate whiskers of his muzzle singe.

His nostrils flared as the molten elephant gradually approached the glass, which began to heat. The King’s ears pricked, eyes trying to see through the bending waves of heat around his magic to the glass shield beyond. It held firm for long moments, before finally giving way to the magma’s hot approach with a loud SNAP, a great crack extending from the center to an edge. And, when the magmaphant finally it the glass, slowly began to melt and fold, losing shape in the exploding mess of molten rock.

“Hmm,” his soft hum was to himself, eyes swinging to make sure none had been splattered by his magic. “Anyone else to try?” His eyes swept those present.

Tembovu

you thought you could outrun the world

let me hold your hand and dance around the flames
in front of us; dust to dust.

The lioness has been keeping a low profile.  The adjustment from life in the plains to life in the Edge had been...challenging.  That day in the threshold the idea of finding a place like home had been all the temptation she’d needed.  But it didn’t take long for her to realize that this wasn’t home and never would be. Gone was the councilwoman, reborn was the lioness.  She found there were days she spent longing for the days of the Council.  At least in that world she knew her place.  She had her own agendas against the corruption that ran rampant amongst the powerful. Those moments were fleeting, but they were powerful.  When they passed she found herself overwhelmed with shame, and a physical bitterness lingered on her tongue. 

Time healed. The intrusive thoughts became less intrusive and the bitterness faded. She had the answers that she so desperately wanted.  More than anything, Eshe helped.  Tsavo didn’t know how she would have adjusted to this place without the assistance of Eshe’s light. She’d spent a considerable amount of time teaching the cub how to hunt, to hide, to climb.  Prior to finding her, Tsavo didn’t understand the concept behind companions.  She understood now.  Eshe was part of her, the better part of her. 

The lioness had been freed of her cage, but had no idea what to do with this newfound freedom.  It was overwhelming. Maddening sometimes. She had found that integrating into this new place was easier said than done. Tsavo had been born into society back in Dorobo.  It had been effortless for her to move in social circles, to climb to positions she wanted.  There was a price to pay for that privilege, one she had paid many times over.  Life in the Edge was different.  As if to illustrate her point, Eshe came bounding from the bushes in a whirl of tan fur and poorly contained excitement.  The lion cub had stumbled across something intriguing.  The lioness rolled her eyes at the display and shifted into her lioness form, staggering for a few steps as she acclimated herself to her feline body.  She stretched before gesturing to Eshe to lead the way, silently padding along in the cub’s pawprints. 

It wasn’t long before Tsavo could hear the voices from the cover of the foliage.  The pair watched as Tsavo began to understand what was happening here.  Target practice.  Eshe, caught sight of Mbwene who immediately became more interesting than the gathering.  She looked at her bonded, pleadingly, but hesitated until she was given permission to leave cover. Happily, the little lion bounded her way towards her elephant friend, disregarding Mbwene’s other company altogether.  Tsavo’s focus, however, was on the small glass target.  Without a word in introduction, the lioness bounded past those had gathered, intent on striking the glass.  She leapt at the last moment, reaching out with one paw with all her claws extended.  The strike made a terrible noise against the glass, fingernails on a chalkboard, leaving a deep cracks in the glass and a large spiderweb of cracks where the center of her paw had struck the center - the force amplified by the impulsion.  She slid to a stop and turned back towards the group, stopping only to inspect her work. “Well. That’s interesting.” 

”Hello everyone,” she added, nonchalantly, with a flick of her tail.