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Old threats and new tirades began building from by-gone generations; he watched with keen interest and intrigue, bending an ear to Wessex as she muttered about the smallest warrior, but he only smiled, only chiseled a pleasant grin at the mania unfolding. There was a whittling of chaos segmented through his blood, perhaps due to his father’s taste and relish for the splendor of decadence, for the reverie of upheaval, for the conquest of other soulless hymns, but still, he said naught, vastly entertained by the levels and layers of ridiculousness spread through the insults, the defensiveness, the way festering wounds reopened merely due to directions (north and south, fire and ice, blood and snow). Rikyn couldn’t resist his jabs and jeers, and the urge to roll his eyes sprung over his mind – instead, they wandered from speaker to speaker, from judge to jury, to the arrivals of others, Queens and healers. The General even resisted the urge to flinch as their Lord spoke of his own banished mother or Erebos’ deceased father (like it was nothing – when it was everything to the blue prince), but his jaw clenched, and his eyes segmented elsewhere, settling on the decaying Sentinels because they understood what it was like to quietly fester away too. Finally, before his blood seethed, before he flickered himself apart, he curled his amiable voice into the looming crowd, playing a political fiddle, orchestrating generosity and sagacity from one of their own – they were the new writers of history, paved and granted by the legions that had once stood before them, towering, tall, mighty, and brooding, and Erebos felt no shame in what they’d (Mauja, Deimos, Psyche, and Illynx, other masters of the former realm) established. They’d just make it stronger, better, so no one would ever see the Basin as weak, as crumbling, as nothing again. “Your Sun God once told me to look forward, to the future, and not to the past.” His head tilted then, no conspiracies layered within his savage, potent grace, contortions of his sire pulsing and pervading through his essence, but his mother too, with her infinite kindness, wisdom, and compassion, who could root the shadows of another’s heart into valor and compassion. “Kaos is enough to deal with without making enemies of fellow herds. This should be a time when we work together.” The prince nodded then, taking on Rikyn’s request, funneling into the true role of General, only eyeing his fellow soldiers for a quiet moment of amusement, as if their recent adventures had been only entertaining diversions, instead of the bellowing monstrosities and horrors entrenched from bedlam. “When we were on patrol along the Steppe, we encountered a bear. After my soldiers successfully dispatched and skinned the creature, it managed to revive itself.” A chill ran amidst his veins, and he said naught more about the incident. “Another time, within the Spectral Marsh, Kaos’ strange altar began leaking some sort of liquid. When it touched the ground, the marsh became greener.” Then the warrior shrugged, utterly incapable of explaining the latter, and presuming the former was just another monstrosity breathing from the gods’ rage, fury, and wrath.
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[O] Fire and Ice [AB DT relationship]
