I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather be a superb meteor,
every atom of me in magnificent glow,
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
– Jack London

The stranger did not hesitate respectfully at the borders, but came in as if he was invited. There wasn’t a herd member leading him, or trailing behind him, as far as Cineviam could tell – there was no one to vouch for the outsider at all. For a moment, the coal brushed steed is suspicious of the horn protruding from underneath the creamy forelock. It looked like it was made of glass, like it could have been fashioned for an equine infiltrator. On closer inspection, the fire tinted glass appeared to be sheathing something black beneath and this stranger had cloven hooves, which proved to Cineviam that he was indeed Unicorn.

Not only one of their kind, but a warrior – albeit one in rough shape – so should the stranger seek entrance into the herd, he would no doubt be welcomed into the World’s Edge fold after the king’s inspection. Mauja kept cautioning them all against rash behavior until their numbers matched the other regions and this stranger seemed to fit the mold, at least physically of what the Frostheart was searching for. However, it wouldn’t do for an outsider to think they were free to explore to their heart’s content without stating their business and an escort to the king.

The doctor was the first to arrive and greet the newcomer warmly. Cineviam didn’t interrupt, just meandered over to the pair casually. He nodded a greeting to D’artagan before turning his blood red eyes on Zar’roc, vaguely surprised to see them mirrored in the tawny-grey face. “Are you looking to join The World’s Edge? Or are you here on other business?” he asked. His deep voice was not unkind, only curious.

They do not know me he realizes with a sinking feeling in his chest. It hurts his pride that none of these Unicorns - his brothers and sisters, his fellow rulers of the world - should see him as a stranger. To be fair, he doesn't know them either...except the black and white stallion who looked vaguely familiar. Where has he seen him before?

Zar'roc addresses the Moon Doctor first: "And greetings to you, brother. I would be most grateful if you would examine my person, though I believe I have healed fairly well on my own. But one must take every precaution when preparing for righteous war, don't you think?" He smiles knowingly at the bay.

Next, he turns to the black and white, the one who is eerily familiar. "Sir, the home of the Unicorns is my rightful place. I seek to join, and rebuild brotherhoods to rule this...Helovia." He says the word distastefully - this hot and dry land has not entirely grown on him.

Finally, he turns the mare, a pretty and courteous thing of less interest to him than the other two. Regardless, he is polite, and greets her with a bow. "Madam Kou, I am grateful for your kindness. If I have need of your services, I will surely call on you."

Introductions now out of the way, it is time to get down to business. "I am Zar'roc, son of Brisingr and Sakura. My home is...was...in Anarore. The Tides, at least one of you must know of that beautiful place? I was there when the Shades attacked. I was there..." He trails off for a moment, eyes haunted. Quickly he restores his composure and continues: "I would be most honored to speak to the King."
"SPEAK"

Z A R ' R O C
Artwork © Kesame

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather be a superb meteor,
every atom of me in magnificent glow,
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
– Jack London

“Greetings” he said, more of a reflex at hearing his name spoken within the boundaries of the World’s Edge than an actual salutation. Smoldering eyes land upon Kou’s pristine form emerging from the trees and he wonders over such a pretty mare, holding the title of nurse, taking such pains over her appearance in the remains of their home. Did she is truly find the ashes so repulsive? In his opinion, nurses shouldn’t be opposed to getting their hands dirty, so to speak. Cineviam might have to be careful, if he should ever get hurt, the blood combined with the grime of his own ashes might leave her unwilling to treat him.

Her attendance does not surprise him. The doctor was here and Cineviam supposed it was her duty not to stray too far in case an emergency arose. He does make a special note of the mutual touching between the health care providers, especially d’Artagan’s awkwardness and he makes a revision to his earlier assumptions. Perhaps Kou was so conscious of her appearance because she was trying to get the Doctor to see her as more than just a nurse. It mattered little to the salt and peppered beast, he didn’t take part in rumor-mills, only wanted to know his herd members better. What drove them to do the things they did. These were the soldiers he would be fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with should the Edge ever go to war.

The newcomer said all the right things, in all the right places. Cineviam nodded his noble head, the black powder fluttering from his thick mane, when the stranger spoke directly to him. Every word further cemented his judgment that this tawny-gray stallion belonged here amongst his own kind. Even d’Artagan seemed to like Zar’roc, nodding in approval and reminiscing of this Anarore. The place held no special meaning to the soot-stained stallion, although it sounded like a land where his mother might have spent time before moving on to where Cineviam was born. Zar’roc could even be extended family; he certainly looked the part – red eyes, draft blood, unicorn trappings – but it would do nothing to garner his favour. Blood ties left a sour taste upon his mottled black tongue, the memory of his mutinous brothers tearing asunder a great empire.

Zar’roc looked like he had seen a ghost.

A simple invasion shouldn’t give a warrior such a haunted look in his eye; it sent an ominous pinprick creeping up the ashen stallion’s spine. For the moment, he did not wish to learn any more of these shades and is almost grateful when d’Artagan mentioned calling the king. “Why wait?” he asked with a shrug – both shrugging off the goosebumps and indicating he had nothing else to add.

i.cineviam
ii.unicorn
iii.6 years
iv.edge stallion
v.created by blu
vi.adopted by taurus

A feeling of satisfaction makes a small smile appear on Zar'roc's face: these unicorns are quick, intelligent and decisive, wasting no time in getting down to business. I am where I am meant to be. They will be my fellow soldiers...perhaps I could even be their General, in time. Needless to say, he is feeling much better about Helovia...except for this blasted heat. His pelt is beginning to darken with patches of sweat.

"Why wait indeed?" he says, eyes shining. "I have always thought that there is no reason to delay good business...and I believe, my friends, that there shall be good times ahead for us all." He meets their eyes in turn: Kou, Cineviam, d'Artagnan. His gaze is is bold but respectful, his eyes saying We are the chosen ones...and we know it, do we not?. "So, without further ado, let us find the King, if it please my fellow unicorns."

ooc: time for a new thread with Mauja?

Z A R ' R O C
Artwork © Kesame

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather be a superb meteor,
every atom of me in magnificent glow,
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
– Jack London

It wasn’t so surprising that his sentiment was quickly echoed by Kou and Zar’roc. The Edge members had already asked what they thought was most important when they first encountered Zar’roc, and the herdless stallion was eager to meet the king and discover if he was accepted within the ranks of The World’s Edge or not. Crimson eyes watch the Moon Doctor’s face for irritation, of which he found none, but he thought he heard a note of exasperation in the call to the king. Cineviam hadn’t meant anything by the why wait, only meant to convey that he personally had nothing else to add. He carefully schooled his features to one of courtesy, refusing to let one flicker of amusement that d’Art’s feathers might be so easily ruffled.

It became easier once the familiar sight of Mauja came into view and was soon forgotten altogether. It was the Doctor’s position to inform the king of what all transpired in the past few minutes and the cinder beast does not interrupt just nodded subtlety in agreement when it was said that the newcomer wished to join. He was out of earshot when d’Art leaned in to impart knowledge quietly so Cineviam just watched Zar’roc for any suspicious signs, not that the tawny grey stallion had done or said anything to make the soot-stained stallion wary. It was just something to do.

He heard d’Art’s parting statement and he turned to watch the great mahogany form as it retreated back into the trees. Cineviam stuck around in case the king decided that the unclaimed should remain herdless after all and Zar’roc needed an escort back to the border.

i.cineviam
ii.unicorn
iii.6 years
iv.edge stallion
v.created by blu
vi.adopted by taurus

Zar'roc waits for a minute before speaking, choosing to observe the King and his manner carefully before choosing his words. Judging by first impressions, this is a strong King...but first impressions can be wrong. These next few minutes will decide much for Zar - is this a ruler he can follow, or one he must attempt to unseat? Time will tell. Speak now, Zar'roc.

"Your grace," he says smoothly, sure to keep his eyes cast at the ground as he bows - Zar'roc knows that such humble gestures are sweet as spring water to kings. "It is a great honor to meet you, and a relief to be among my own kind once more. I am Zar'roc, son of Brisingr and Sakura. I hail from Anarore, The Tides." It hurts still to speak of it, but Zar'roc knows that now is not the time to lose his composure. "I hope to join this herd, if you will have me. I believe - I hope - that I have much to offer." In truth, Zar'roc knows damn well that he has a great lot to offer, but he learned early in life that arrogance becomes no one.

"SPEAK SPEAK"

Z A R ' R O C
Artwork © Kesame

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather be a superb meteor,
every atom of me in magnificent glow,
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
– Jack London

Movement caught his eye – an off white shadow departing after the doctor – and it dragged his gaze away from the newcomer. It came as no surprise to the soot-stained stallion that Kou would take her leave so soon after d’Artagan, but something about the situation seemed… off. After a moment, he decided it must have been the glance at Mauja, or rather what was behind the fleeting look.

It sure seemed to leave the king disgruntled, not that Cineviam could boast that he knew the frost-bitten king well enough to see a crack in the arctic exterior. The fractional warmth gleaned off of Mauja when he was around members of the Edge could be premeditated for all the cinder beast knew. But he observed the way the king’s pale lips shaped the nurse’s name as she fled and perhaps some lines deepened around the blue eyes. Cineviam didn’t remark on what he witnessed, now wouldn’t be the best time in front of their newest herd member, so he tucked it away neatly into his brain and continued to watch Zar’roc.

The tawny-grey stallion was the very model of poise and eloquence.

He just hoped that Mauja didn’t let it go to his head and start expecting similar out of the rest of the herd. No doubt, warriors would have to hold him still while his black legs were shortened at the knees if they were going to get a proper bow out of Cineviam. It would be a shame; he was quite fond of his heavy feathering and cloven hooves.

The careful pauses, every movement exact, was not lost on the charcoal and snow stallion. He could nearly see the thought process behind Zar’roc’s own crimson gaze. He valued intelligence, and ability above all else so he was interested in what exactly the newbie had to offer The World’s Edge since it was brought up. “Many in Helovia are gifted with useful magic…” he added after Mauja. He had noticed that not everyone had abilities after coming through the Threshold. But perhaps it was different with this Anarore. “And I hope I am not mistaken to think you a warrior, sir?” he asked, eyes pointedly tracing the old wounds.

i.cineviam
ii.unicorn
iii.6 years
iv.edge stallion
v.created by blu
vi.adopted by taurus

Zar'roc takes note of the strange tension between the King and d'Art, and the longing - almost pitiable - way he called after pretty little Kou. Odd. Well, herd dynamics always are. He files the anomaly away to remember later - perhaps it will prove useful.

Cineviam's inquiries about magic and battle bring a proud smile to Zar's face - but he is careful to keep his tone humble, modest, as if none of this is of great import. "I am lucky enough to be blessed by magic, sirs. Observe."

Zar'roc bows his head and focuses intently on the earth at his hooves. Red eyes focus, and seem to burn brighter. Steam begins to rise from the dirt as it heats into molten rock, and then...glass. Beautiful, shimmering, malleable, red-hot glass. With a grunt of concentration, Zar'roc forms the bright substance into the shape of a small tree rising from the earth, growing at warp speed. Limbs and leaves sprout from a slender trunk, delicate and tinkling. When the structure stands as he pleases, the stallion steps back and nods at the others. "This is my ability, friends. Perhaps not the most...war-like of powers, but it is nothing if not versatile. It can charm the senses or end them completely...if such a thing is ever warranted." He regards his little glass sapling proudly. "Warrior? Well...I am sufficient in battle. No better or worse than the next." In truth, Zar'roc considers himself a good fighter, but curses himself for not doing better. I must improve, if I am to be any kind of leader, achieve anything. An idea occurs to him: "Perhaps there are some here who would be willing to engage in some friendly sparring?"

Z A R ' R O C
Artwork © Kesame

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather be a superb meteor,
every atom of me in magnificent glow,
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
– Jack London

Mauja was staring.

What a little word to stump a king – Sir. It was only three letters, one syllable. Language could be tricky but an incredibly useful tool. He always liked to keep everyone guessing. If they are never sure of whom he was or what he wanted, they cannot begin to predict what he might do next. Cineviam had no reason to confuse Mauja, the frostheart was not an enemy he needed to keep on his toes. Perhaps it was a small demonstration of ability, previously unknown by his superior, and the purpose of exposing it would be revealed at a later date.

The newcomer asked them to observe and Mauja gave a slight shrug, putting whatever speculations that were swirling behind those blue eyes to at rest for now. The anticipation of watching Zar’roc work his magic was too tantalizing to give the tawny grey stallion any less than his undivided attention. Unlike the once bitten, twice shy ice king, Cineviam had yet to regret witnessing any of his herdmates displays of power. Any tenseness must have ebbed from the soot-stained brute and flowed right into the spotted stallion. Cineviam’s ears were perked, his expression one of open curiosity, his own red eyes fixated on the ground in front of Zar’roc’s hooves.

The creation, as it begun to take form, was definitely thought provoking. The process seemed to take longer than the ice spikes he knew Mauja was capable of producing, from the time Torasin was caught trespassing, so Zar’roc’s ability probably wouldn’t boast the same results in the heat of the moment. His eyes ran over the red-hot structure that started to look more like a tree every passing moment and finally settled on the leaves. They seemed delicate yet wickedly sharp. “Mauja, does the Edge have anyone capable of elevating small objects with their mind and moving them around? I believe it’s called Telekinesis,” he asked, wondering if they caught his train of thought.

Heavily feathered limbs, guided by the spotted snow-stallion’s beckoning, brought his perpetually shedding frame closer. Their group has closed in, the leaders voice had taken on a conspiratorial hush, his ears lean forward eagerly, assuming something of great importance was about to be shared. Mauja wouldn’t glean much from Cineviam’s features. The knowledge of this dark brotherhood, although previously unknown, was not a great surprise after living in the World’s Edge for a stretch of time. However, he was eager to be included in any group that could potentially gain power in Helovia and the cinderbeast had gotten restless lately. “Yes, I’m interested,” he said, gaze sliding to Zar’roc to see how he took the news.

i.cineviam
ii.unicorn
iii.6 years
iv.edge stallion
v.created by blu
vi.adopted by taurus