05-15-2015, 01:45 PM
no matter what they say, I am still the king
Diplomacy had never been Eight’s strong point – at least, not during his first go at being a king. In the days of the Chamber, Eight had been a vaporous shadow, fucked up to the nines and never interested in ties or alliances. His second go around was equally as fleeting – holding the Dale as a vassal of the Chamber. Well, the third time’s the charm – right? His third time, carrying the crown of the Valley, seemed to go a bit better. Diplomacy had finally caught up to him – he was no longer a young, hundred year old boy. He was older now, wiser, and stronger in his power and intelligence. His 129th birthday was quickly approaching, he was no longer a doe-eyed boy frolicking through the world (although, was he ever so vapid?)
He knew when they had decided – their two stately bodies side by side in the waning sun of the Deserts. He had felt the decision resonate in Camrynn’s mind- the idea that she would come home to him. (Home, in the sense that he is the only mirror to have seen her natural state). He had seen them taking flight, their wings cutting into the blue sky and the filtering clouds – he saw them coming to him, and the land he had revived.
It had been quite some time. Again, he had disappeared into the shadows –pulled by the ever present nature of his personality to just.. well, want to be alone. Eight was never a people person. Yes, he courted the females – playing up to their desires and wishes, dancing with them through intricacies of magic and pining. He played the part, the vicious magician- the one people sought out, for favors or entertainment, power hungry and salivating for more (more children, more magic, more might). Yes, he met them all, spoke with them, wooed them, deceived them, and more. But truly? Well truly, Eight wanted none of it. He was a loner, really. He didn’t truly belong anywhere, even here.
And so again, he had faded – away from the Valley, away from the laws of the land, and away from Camrynn – so soon after the beginning of their tryst. Their romance (?) that had sparked so suddenly, so curiously out of nothing (except perhaps the mutual understanding that there were so few many like them in the world? Or maybe, more? One could never be sure why romance flourished.), and was very much a secret. No one, actually, knew of Eight and Camrynn- it was strange, to behold feelings that no one else knew of, a secret whispering amongst the barren lands, a solitary drop of intimacy in the rushed life of Beqanna. And so with Yael in the air, Eight knew Camrynn would not quite be who she was when she was naked before him.
What a meeting – three magical beings all in one place. Perhaps this was the first time in decades that this had happened, that magicians of the land stepped into line together. It seemed that most of the rulers currently had some form of magic – Errant of the Tundra, the Desert’s hierarchy, the Valley’s, and even the Dale’s in a way. But here was the trifecta – and quite a mix it was. Who did have the strongest magic? One could not say. Eight was the oldest, born with magic from the very first moments of his life. Morphine was amongst the oldest magicians, but did that sort of power carrying down, once magic was transferred? Or was it strongest when it formed with you in utero, creating the very body you first breathe in.
Would this meeting bring fate to its knees? Would it end up in a test of magical prowess? A show of who could out-smite who? Or perhaps it would end in one of the most powerful trifectas of all. Only time would tell.
Eight waits, knowing that soon enough he would feel the two women entering the edges of the Valley. And true enough, he did. The magical border thrummed in his mind as their bodies entered the surrounding land. As it did, Camrynn’s voice reached out to him, weaving into his mind. Her words were wrought with the playful smirk she often carried when talking to him, it was comforting – a voice he had not heard in quite some time now.
They land, and Yael toes the line to the Valley, which resonates in Eight’s mind with a small throbbing – the land letting him know that someone is here.
He appears, sliding out of thin air, his body appearing bit by bit. It is not a show of power or impression – they are all magicians here, they can each manipulate the world and the inhabitants around them (although they each choose to wield their power in a different way). “Yael. Camrynn. Welcome.” He nods genially to each of them, and then speaks to Camrynn’s mind “I knew you just wouldn’t be able to stay away from me. Welcome home, my queen.” His voice, of course, is riddled with the playful jests that they normally carry. He gives no effort to barricade his mind, although he is sure to telepathically communicate just on a channel with Camrynn. There is no need for secrets here – no need to be defensive, unless attacked upon.
“I assumed I would be receiving a visit from the Deserts soon enough. Camrynn, congratulations on your position. Yael, you must be enjoying semi-retirement.” He spoke practically, straight forward – amiable, but not overzealous. He knew most of these meetings carried courtesies and common practice, but it was no secret why they came – what was any beginning diplomatic meeting for? “I presume we’re here today to talk about alliances, plans, and intentions?” Perhaps the truth of Camrynn and he would envelop here, a counterpart of an intended alliance. “Here at the Valley, we are allied with the Chamber – where I had enabled Straia in ruling.” He was quite blunt about it all – secrets of this kind weren’t truly his thing.
It was true, the Deserts and the Valley had never quite had the best of histories. That isn’t to say that the future could not be changed – but there was malice between the two in the past, that could not be changed. However, the tidings of rulers had changed – and there was no ill-will between the rulers of the Deserts and Valley. In fact, if anything, they were tied by intimacy – quite a change from the decades past.
“I assume you may already have ties of your own? In the Deserts. Or perhaps, intend to create some?”
He knew when they had decided – their two stately bodies side by side in the waning sun of the Deserts. He had felt the decision resonate in Camrynn’s mind- the idea that she would come home to him. (Home, in the sense that he is the only mirror to have seen her natural state). He had seen them taking flight, their wings cutting into the blue sky and the filtering clouds – he saw them coming to him, and the land he had revived.
It had been quite some time. Again, he had disappeared into the shadows –pulled by the ever present nature of his personality to just.. well, want to be alone. Eight was never a people person. Yes, he courted the females – playing up to their desires and wishes, dancing with them through intricacies of magic and pining. He played the part, the vicious magician- the one people sought out, for favors or entertainment, power hungry and salivating for more (more children, more magic, more might). Yes, he met them all, spoke with them, wooed them, deceived them, and more. But truly? Well truly, Eight wanted none of it. He was a loner, really. He didn’t truly belong anywhere, even here.
And so again, he had faded – away from the Valley, away from the laws of the land, and away from Camrynn – so soon after the beginning of their tryst. Their romance (?) that had sparked so suddenly, so curiously out of nothing (except perhaps the mutual understanding that there were so few many like them in the world? Or maybe, more? One could never be sure why romance flourished.), and was very much a secret. No one, actually, knew of Eight and Camrynn- it was strange, to behold feelings that no one else knew of, a secret whispering amongst the barren lands, a solitary drop of intimacy in the rushed life of Beqanna. And so with Yael in the air, Eight knew Camrynn would not quite be who she was when she was naked before him.
What a meeting – three magical beings all in one place. Perhaps this was the first time in decades that this had happened, that magicians of the land stepped into line together. It seemed that most of the rulers currently had some form of magic – Errant of the Tundra, the Desert’s hierarchy, the Valley’s, and even the Dale’s in a way. But here was the trifecta – and quite a mix it was. Who did have the strongest magic? One could not say. Eight was the oldest, born with magic from the very first moments of his life. Morphine was amongst the oldest magicians, but did that sort of power carrying down, once magic was transferred? Or was it strongest when it formed with you in utero, creating the very body you first breathe in.
Would this meeting bring fate to its knees? Would it end up in a test of magical prowess? A show of who could out-smite who? Or perhaps it would end in one of the most powerful trifectas of all. Only time would tell.
Eight waits, knowing that soon enough he would feel the two women entering the edges of the Valley. And true enough, he did. The magical border thrummed in his mind as their bodies entered the surrounding land. As it did, Camrynn’s voice reached out to him, weaving into his mind. Her words were wrought with the playful smirk she often carried when talking to him, it was comforting – a voice he had not heard in quite some time now.
They land, and Yael toes the line to the Valley, which resonates in Eight’s mind with a small throbbing – the land letting him know that someone is here.
He appears, sliding out of thin air, his body appearing bit by bit. It is not a show of power or impression – they are all magicians here, they can each manipulate the world and the inhabitants around them (although they each choose to wield their power in a different way). “Yael. Camrynn. Welcome.” He nods genially to each of them, and then speaks to Camrynn’s mind “I knew you just wouldn’t be able to stay away from me. Welcome home, my queen.” His voice, of course, is riddled with the playful jests that they normally carry. He gives no effort to barricade his mind, although he is sure to telepathically communicate just on a channel with Camrynn. There is no need for secrets here – no need to be defensive, unless attacked upon.
“I assumed I would be receiving a visit from the Deserts soon enough. Camrynn, congratulations on your position. Yael, you must be enjoying semi-retirement.” He spoke practically, straight forward – amiable, but not overzealous. He knew most of these meetings carried courtesies and common practice, but it was no secret why they came – what was any beginning diplomatic meeting for? “I presume we’re here today to talk about alliances, plans, and intentions?” Perhaps the truth of Camrynn and he would envelop here, a counterpart of an intended alliance. “Here at the Valley, we are allied with the Chamber – where I had enabled Straia in ruling.” He was quite blunt about it all – secrets of this kind weren’t truly his thing.
It was true, the Deserts and the Valley had never quite had the best of histories. That isn’t to say that the future could not be changed – but there was malice between the two in the past, that could not be changed. However, the tidings of rulers had changed – and there was no ill-will between the rulers of the Deserts and Valley. In fact, if anything, they were tied by intimacy – quite a change from the decades past.
“I assume you may already have ties of your own? In the Deserts. Or perhaps, intend to create some?”
∞
and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in