resurrect the saint within the wretch
When Isilya’s eyes find his, there is a trickle of doubt that flares inside Warden’s chest. The horned stallion breaks the eye contact gracefully, afraid to linger for longer than a few seconds (their eyes hold the key to his ability, triggering him into their futures) in fear a vision would rattle him at the most inopportune moment. He wonders if Isilya can sense it - if they all will, eventually - the cold pit of dread that familiarly coils in his stomach, hollow and relentless. If she could, she is either unafraid or entirely foolish for accepting Warden’s offer to become their king. His pale pink lips twitch thoughtfully, knowing that for all the marvelous things Isilya is, foolish isn’t one of them.
The Watcher - silent, stoic, brooding - stands unwavering beside the queen as she calls for Tephra to rise and awaken.
Most of them are familiar, as much of his family call the volcanic land their home. He finds some comfort in their gazes, lingering most of all on a pair of violet eyes that somehow convinces a handsome smile to crack across his otherwise serious expression. Some of the Tephrans are lost on him, though, and he wonders at what point he will see them again (or had they already seen him, staring into the dark ocean during the darkest hours of twilight?).
Isilya steps aside and in a gesture so small, the crown falls onto his head.
“Thank you, Isilya,” Warden’s voice follows hers in a near jarring way - gravely and stony, yet there is no questioning the sincerity within it. He turns his attention to those standing before him, willing away any uncertainty that may show outwardly with a soft snort and a light toss of his head upwards. His visions have been quiet, thankfully, and so far he has not seen any atrocities to befall Tephra or its people. He only hopes he is able to keep it that way, with or without seeing the future. “I am more than honored to serve the home that once served me. I do not take the position of your King lightly,” he begins, turning his head to meet each of their gazes, the sunlight catching the deeply jeweled tones of his blue horns and the opals that sparkle brilliantly against the dark auburn of his chest and neck. “I am prepared to keep Tephra the safe haven that it is and to protect it at all costs.” The world isn’t safe, it never has been. He’s seen it.
“Of course, that cannot be done by myself alone. Please step forward or find me privately if you feel as though you have certain qualities that you are willing to use in order to make us stronger.” He pauses. “Tephra will be a proactive kingdom; we will need all the warriors and thinkers we can muster to keep us protected, as well as to keep us a formidable opponent for anyone who dares try.” His visions will only help Tephra so much - he has seen what the terrors are that lay within the future. They had to be prepared and ready for anything - peace only lasts for so long, and there were so many to protect within the kingdom.
