[open] [All of Tephra] I burned your world away, devoured by my conviction;

[Rhaegor]

and I could easily lose my mind; the way you kiss me will work each time

A woman's voice calls to them, and he has been here long enough to be included in said number. With a weighted gaze to the east - where once there had been sea and now there is land - Rhaegor finds that he does not wonder as to why they are being summoned. The lands have changed, and a sickness far headier than the ash that surrounds them can be smelt with every breath.

He goes. He listens.

The woman herself is nothing to the young stallion. But the truth of her words lend themselves to her credit; she speaks most particularly of safety in the time of the plague (and he does not need to question the word for in his heart, he knows this is what has overtaken Beqanna). Rhaegor meets the roan's eyes briefly, blinking a silent recognition and inhaling deeply, though no words fill the silence which follows. Not on his part, at least.

On the part of yet another stranger, however, words do come. The metallic stallion is a face never before seen to the newcomer of one or two months. But when he turns to speak to the crowd, it is with something resembling authority - the Hyalinian prince has seen true authority in his time, and his mind goes worriedly to his mothers. Were Solace and Kagerus okay? And what of his siblings? His wings twitch almost uncontrollably at the thought, a terrible need overwhelming his senses as he remembers home.

The arrival of Magnus is what recalls the boy to the present situation. The ancient stallion had been quite a part of Rhaegor's life, both prior to and during his Tephran stint. The boy watches with piercing brown eyes as his leader speaks, a grim smile settling as the volcanic ash upon the folds of his lips. So, now would be the time then; he'd suspected the mutiny for some time, though of course Magnus has a way with words that makes the attempt seem almost a poem. Warrior that he is, the creature speaks with the tongue of a lover - even in the face of evil.

It will not do to keep his true king waiting.

Stepping forward in utter silence, the lanky stallion walks to where Magnus has placed himself; he finds the other's gold flecked eyes and holds them with an intensity he'd not known he could muster. The wind blows between them, the only sound as they stand with wide-shoulders and high-heads, as if perhaps Rhaegor might contest the other; but, as the wind dies and the world seems to pause, the boy moves.

Swiftly and without stumbling, one knee folds and the length of his neck curve to find it; as deeply as he can, the humble servant bows, pledging allegiance to the one who will guide them through this chaos.

Rhaegor