Tiberios
There was a time when Tiberios liked the taste of death too. When he exiled himself to the forests in the world beyond Beqanna, he wasted away and fed on the memories of a failed life. They sustained him enough to seek out a possible end. Maybe by drowning. Maybe by fire. Wouldn’t that have been ironic? But then, like her, he’d wandered back. Unfinished business had gotten the better of him, and now here he was: King of the Falls. The burnt man has lived up to his heritage and his fate. He wonders if Tiphon would be proud.
But things have changed. There is no defined line between the magic realm and the normal realm now, and this much is obvious when he comes to greet her with his forehead ringed in a crown of pale blue flames. His golden blaze glints in the bright winter sun, the weather not yet sinking her claws too deeply into the heart of the Falls. They were a lucky kingdom in that aspect - Tiberios was not fond of snow or cold. His liquid bronze gaze casts a curious glance across her whippet-like body, and he slows to a halt at his border.
“Can I help you?” He asks, ears rising but his expression unchanging. He wonders if she’s come for the waters and their power. In the past, the kingdom had opened her arms to those seeking the Falls magic, but things were set to change around here now that he was in charge. No longer would the Falls be tread on. If she wanted access, she’d need good reason or something to give in exchange.
Tiberios
king of the falls
