As he waits, he takes the opportunity to further study the kingdom. He can’t see much from his stationary position on the border, but what he can’t see now, he’s likely seen on his first trip here. It is still beautiful, despite the snow covering most of the grounds and foliage, but he imagines it is even more so come spring. He imagines the dense forest comes alive with birds and animals then. Some of the trees, now slumbering away in their nakedness, probably bloom and supply the fauna with their fruits. The land itself is gentler here than back home. There are no jagged peaks framing the distant borders; no steep valleys pull the earth down. And while its soft, temperature nature might be a draw for some, he can’t imagine living without the wild, ruggedness of the Dale. There is a river cutting through the land, at least (eventually giving way to the famous Falls). He appreciates this feature most of all.
But Ramiel isn’t kept in his own opinion of the kingdom for long before he’s joined by its king.
“Tiberios,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. He wants to be ecstatic at the reunion, at this chance to finally get to know his brother. But that old, tricky prejudice rises up like bars over his heart. He thinks of his mother’s face every time she mentions the sabino, how it seems to fall like so many leaves when they talk about the man. Although he remembers, too, the last time they had spoken several days prior. She had been happier than she’d been in months – years, even. Ramiel had smelled something on her that he couldn’t place, some ashy, crisp scent. He wonders now if they’d met. He hopes they’ve put it all behind them, whatever trouble had come between them. Perhaps he can, too.
The charcoal-colored stallion shakes his head as if emerging from a fog and takes in the other with a warmer, genuine smile. To new beginnings, he tells himself. And really, it is a beginning. He’s only seen the burnt man once before in his life. Any progress they make is truly new territory for the both of them. He’s glad Tiberios seems receptive to him, anyway. “Thank you.” Ramiel takes him up on his invitation and moves past the invisible border, and unlike the first time, his feet leave prints in the snow. He tries to appear like he’s taking in the kingdom, looking appreciatively at his surroundings before returning his gaze to the king.
“The Dale is well. It seems to be weakening in its resolve to remain uninhabited.” His lips quirk at the corners at his own jest. Some might consider it foolhardy to openly admit to activity struggles, but with Tiberios, he has little concern. The man had lived there before Ramiel was even born. If anyone knows of the historical difficulties of the quiet kingdom, he is among them. Besides, he is family. Surely that will hold some weight between the brothers, won’t it?
“A passing ghost told me that congratulations are in order, though.” He dips his large grey head in acknowledgement, the gold strands in his hair glinting in the bright, winter sunlight. When he looks back up, his eyes are drawn to Tiberios’ own gold, running in a blaze down his face. Seeing their familiar mark finally pushes away any hesitation on his part. If anything, their blood connection can lead to a greater connection between both of their kingdoms. Ramiel is not looking to reinstate the Blood Alliance by any means, but by the same token, his reason for wanting some sort of a relationship with the Falls is not entirely unselfish, either. They have a chance to build something here. They need to act sooner rather than later, also. Already, rumors of the Chamber flexing its muscles have reached the common areas. He wonders who else is willing to play with the once-dark (and still-dark, apparently) kingdom.
“I know you’re likely still settling in,” he says, referencing the new ascension. Ramiel had certainly needed a period of time to get used to it. “But you are right, it’s been far too long. I regret not seeking you out sooner, brother.” The word is strange on his tongue, but he’s glad to finally use it in a positive context. He flicks his tail, half of it disappearing as it strikes across his back before reappearing as it falls. It’s a nervous habit of his, one that perhaps reveals who he’d been referencing earlier. “Are you amenable to some sort of relationship between our kingdoms? We’d be seeing a lot more of each other, if you are.” He smiles then, trying to move past the somber air of his previous comments.
Ramiel
ghost king of the dale