If you asked half of his children, the great black king was the epitome of what a father should be to his children. But if you asked the other half, you’d more than likely get two ears full of fury and fire. He had coddled some of his brood as royalty while leaving others to cringe at his scent. A few by choice, some by thoughtlessness but most by selfishness. But since his rebirth, he had regarded his children and began to tread down the paths of maybe amends with those he had sinned against in his before-life.
Maybe Yael had done a bit of subtle tweaking when she had wrought back his bones and sinew, or something rooted more deeply in his own consciousness but the Nightwalker had developed a grandfatherly-like affinity for children, his and others alike. “It’s gone…” the girl says quietly, sadly and Vanquish turns back to offer her a bitter-soft word, “all things go in time, sweet child.” It is not meant to be macabre or poetic, it is merely the truth – one she will learn sooner rather than later. But because he does send her words that some could argue are too old or too grim for just a girl, he sends a few wisps of the Deserts’ sand to circle about her – and it smells of magic and spices.
The titan steps into the Jungle beside the painted mare and even though he tucks his massive wings as closely to himself as he could, he still manages to snag a few vines here and there that trail along. An inward sigh of regret sat upon his lips but never left their blackness as he watched Rhy stride beside him. He did not sorrow for himself, no, but for his son. He could remember the night he had brought Rhy back from the Otherworld as easily as he could remember his favorite lover’s scent. He remembers how profound the tether between his son and this mare had been to bring Vanquish to her amid the nothingness of Out There. He hopes his son has not fallen into the same sin of spreading sick hearts that he himself had once possessed.
Lagertha arrives, iron-grey and familiar in his raven eyes – albeit a little more adorned this time. He was not surprised to find that she now ruled the valkyries kingdom, she had been commanding and intimidating (to any lesser beast, of course) even then. It seems so many years ago that the brewing of war had overspilled it’s pot and the kingdoms had come to minor blows – nothing Valley War worthy. The draft laughs as she pokes her nose into chest and Rhy offer’s her quip about Beqanna’s dead, “death didn't want the hassle of having me,” he says, side-stepping a questionably deep puddle, “so she spat me back half as old and twice as nice.” He jests, bellowing out a genuine laugh and the sound is throaty and rumbling, like a dragon’s murmur.
When the pleasantries are done, his ears prick towards the queen and he seeks Lagertha’s gaze somberly, “war is coming. As I’m sure you know the current events better than I,” another dragon’s chuckle, “but the Deserts choose to stand with the Gates when the drums start beating. I hope our sides are the same on this matter.” The Deserts were scarce, this was no secret amongst the kingdoms – shit, half of them didn't even count them as a factor in the war at all - or so he betted. Albeit they were small, they were mighty – even if it be just the Nightwalker and his Golden Rose. The Deserts and the Chamber had been allies under his reign, a point that has obviously changed since then. The Valley, well, history tells its own tale when it comes to the song of the Valley and the Deserts – there is nothing sweet and nothing harmonious about it. “The Jungle and the Deserts have been tied both in blood and oath for many years,” he says, the perspiration of the climate (a heat so much unlike his own) clinging to his skin like water droplets on black silk, “but given the circumstances, I’d like an affirmation or renunciation of our alliance.” Vanquish was a knight’s king and some things had to be spoken (or shed) aloud, the word of a king or queen to another should be paramount to a written contract – if horses knew of such a thing. “We cannot offer much now, but that of course will change.” He says factually, ears still pricked but posture relaxed. The Deserts were a slumbering giant and he was just beginning to awaken.
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vanquish
black king of the deserts
