"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Night swallows him wholly beneath the volcano’s rumbling mass. Darkness shrouds each corner and hollow crook of rock and shrub, melting into the crevices. The only light is that of the volcano’s plume, glowing angry and red against the black abyss that yawns before the stallion; not even a sliver of the moon casts its silver light below. Haunting glows of red and oranges dance against his auburn flesh, alighting the cobalt of his wings with the appearance of flames. He stands at the shoreline, the sand blackened as the night that stretches out above it, staring into the churning sea.
Here, at the breast of the volcano’s heart, the heat is fierce and unforgiving. The temperatures at the volcano’s core are so high that even the cold rock beside Warrick is radiating and would perhaps even singe his flesh if he lingers against it for a moment too long. The heat soothes him somehow, despite its intensity and fervor. The winged stallion shuffles his wings with a gentle flex of the lithe bones, their indigo color fluttering as he brings them in to settle at his russet sides.
The stillness of night brings Warrick his thoughts, laying them out one by one before him as he attempts to sort through them.
The stallion snorts sharply; he is a gentle-spirit, and he values the relationships he has carved from the very magma of Tephra, but he cannot help but feel as though he is viewed only as a generous soul with kind eyes - eager to please. He is slow to anger, but he is beginning to feel the annoyance rifle to the surface. Unrest as reared its ugly head, and he has no time for crimes of passion or the throes of dramatics between family. Too much is heavy-laden on his soul already and he will not force Tephra into a downward spiral because of the family he had taken in so generously.
“Klaudius,” he calls for the stallion, Warrick’s voice clear and unwavering on the soft ripple of sea-wind. He awaits the winged stallion’s arrival, the cerulean of his irises brooding and unreadable as he stares out into the familiar sea, the churning waves just as tempestuous as his mind. A shadow brews in his eyes, one that is daunting and relentless, and he allows it to fuel him.
High above the accumulation of clouds, he soars this night. The starlight upon his back and darkened vapors at his hooves. This is where he longed to be at night. Tracing the constellations with his silver-hazel eyes and beat of his wingspan. It is here he thinks. Thinks of all those who were taken from him. Those who deceived him, and yet he smiles at the thought of doing the same. An eye for an eye...
Just as the lavender stallion begins to bend his mass towards the faint glow of orange coming from none other than the trinket of the kingdom, he hears a distance call. A beckoning of his name and his lips curl ever more. He lingers though, choosing to keep the Overseer waiting. He was not a follower. He was a doer and now will be the time for action. With another cast downward of his feather appendages, he lifts himself high once again and then allows the night air to descend him lightly towards earth..
Passing through the blanket of smog that lingered indefinitely over Tephra, only the scent upon the wind led him to where his presence was demanded. His vision sights in what he believes to be the Tephran King, basking in the glow of molted rock that has begun to surround him. He scouts a place to land that is neither too far, nor too close to the other. The heat of the melted earth bothered him little. The earth was his after all...
Once hooves hit the rocks, he comes to a stand. Head raised and eyes steadied on the hardened gaze of the stag. Feathers folded at his side carefully before he leaned forwards slightly. "Warrick... It has been a while. I have been thinking a lot lately and I wonder if you will consider what I have to offer," he has taken control of the conversation out the gate. He knew what the osprey king could possibly think of him and his actions of lately. He regrets none and would do all again in the beat of a heart. Ischia had stolen his daughter, held her captive even. Their indiscretions will not go unnoticed any longer. Sylva had murdered his sister and turned his son.
A single step draws him closer to the navy dipped king to better gauge his reaction, he states matter of a factually, "Your rule has been long. Your throne unchallenged... It is commendable really. But you grow older each day. The pressures of ruling should be anothers burden now. Someone younger. Someone that will thrust Tephra into greatness." His eyes narrow on the bay, "I am willing to accept that burden from you old friend." He is not unkind, nor unreasonable. The heavied weight of a kingdom is far too great for one to hold long. Most of Tephra was his family anyhow now. Why shouldn't he be the one to ascend the throne...?
He attempts to read the lines of the stallions face. Expecting anger and hostility to surface, he stood readied. The flow of heated rock around them beginning to shift closer to where he stood....
Klaudius
I was lightning, before the thunder
@[Warrick] As notified and with Cassi's approval I first ask for Tephra's rule. <3
The familiar sounds of downy feathers on the night wind causes Warrick’s ears to flicker backwards, his chin rising slightly into the sky to stare into the wide expanse of starlight and a heavy, full moon. The pulse of the volcano is at his back, enveloping him in a warmth that has always been comforting and that perhaps only a true Tephran could find withstandable. The sound of hooves clicking harshly against the black, molten rock causes the osprey-King to turn idly towards the sound. There is no unease on the Overseer’s face as the lavender of Klaudius is immediately recognized, despite the hardened lines of his mahogany features creating a stoic and serious expression, or the darkness of the normally bright blue of his irises. He is troubled, concerned, and looking for a solution - though as the cerulean of his oceanic gaze falls onto the winged stallion, he quickly realizes with a quirk of his brow that Klaudius is not here for the same reasons.
Warrick snorts sharply, ears dismissively flipping back pensively as the other stallion begins to speak. “I know what you have to offer, Klaudius, ” the winged Overseer replies mildly, the darkness of his eyes searching Klaudius thoughtfully, hoping that perhaps the boldness that Warrick sees within their depths are simply nothing more than a misplaced overconfidence. He has seen and heard what Klaudius has been capable of and he is surprised that the stallion himself did not think Warrick knew it. As he continues, another snort expels from the cobalt of the Overseer’s lips, realizing quickly that the two men saw what Klaudius had to offer being very different things. The slight amusement of his brow fades into a furrow, his placid look quickly changing into displeasure, ears falling against the curvature of his muscular neck.
The burning blue of Warrick’s eyes reflect the molten magma that swells in Klaudius’ fingertips as his gaze flickers to the slow moving lava that grows defensively. There is a look of incredulousness - almost disappointment - that falls across the Overseer’s face as he slowly shakes his head, turning his emboldened gaze upon Klaudius. Warrick takes a step closer to the other stallion, unafraid of the lava that bends to Klaudius’ will as it intensely glows with heat and mirth. He has felt the power of the volcano before and doubts that the lavender stallion will use it to harm him. “A throne would suit you ill, old friend. Therefore, I’d like you to consider my offer.”
There is a pause - wickedly so as Warrick’s voice finds a heat that is uncharacteristically so, yet vivid and pulsing with a fierce solemnity.
It did not have to be this way; yet Klaudius’ intentions are all too clear, even when laced over with pleasantries and attempts at flattery. There is an idle threat that is thinly veiled beneath the lavender stallion’s words, where anger and pride fuel his intentions. The coiling of lava at their feet is a sure sign of Klaudius’ true feelings, whether it be malice or simply fear. He could not allow Tephra to fall into the rash and thoughtless, emotional decisions that seem to fuel Klaudius’ actions.
“You must find your throne elsewhere. Quickly, while I allow you and your family to do so peacefully and with my blessing.”
Warrick’s gaze never wavers from Klaudius’. Tangerine had predicted this very moment and he knows that all the wise words in the world would not stop it from taking place.
Warrick's displeasure is understandable and his reaction expected, but the lavender stallions stance does not waver the slightest. Even as the Overseer steps forward, ears flattened, he remains still. Claims of knowing his intentions here, cause the slightest of grin to form on his lips. The nearing glow of the melted earth lighting his features. The cobalt stallion knows nothing of his plans clearly, and this amuses him. "You don't know me at all, Warrick," his grin fading as seriousness takes over. "I have a vision for Tephra that removes it from the stiff politics of the other kingoms. An escape for those wishing to raise families outside of the need for ranks and duties", his regal crown rises. "We would have one Protector... My son, Kromium." His silver-hazel eyes examine the face of the Overseer. Wondering if perhaps the stallion can to see a new future for the island. He did not want a throne, nor to rule with an iron fist. Conquering every corner of Beqanna was not in his game-plan. All he ever wanted was a place to raise his family and to surround himself with others who wished for the same. They would be free from the strict structure of a Kingdom... Finally.
Still his eyes remain fixed on the stallion before him and asks, "You and your family would be more than welcome to remain under your leadership... What do you say comrade?" He cares not for the past. It can not be changed and is not worth dwelling over. His actions are his own and with the sole intent on restoring his family. Condemning him for that would be unreasonable...
Klaudius
I was lightning, before the thunder
@[Warrick] Anyone else is more than welcome to enter @[Amorette] @[wound]-though I know your captured to Sylva atm...
there was a heaven in youbut god there's a devil in me
Suddenly, there is a shift. It is as palpable in the thick humidity of Tephra’s atmosphere, grinding against Warrick’s skin in such a way that the Overseer’s still face begins to clench with the force of his teeth pressing together, the muscle in his jaw jumping idly. He wonders why Klaudius pretends as if their conversation is his idea, when it had been Warrick who had sought him out. The winged stallion still has yet to even assume that there was a reason for the Overseer finding him and does not hesitate to swiftly change his intentions. It did not sit well with the bay and only brooded more caution and apprehension than moments before. Warrick snorts sharply with displeasure, his lips pressing together in pensivity and restraint.
“I know that you would do anything for your family, which is honorable, but I am afraid your passion for your bloodline will eventually create a threat to my own. As you know, Klaudius, family is always first.”
The Overseer pauses, inhaling deeply as his eyes flash across the lavender of Klaudius’ face. He understands the ferocity in which Klaudius wishes to keep his family together and protect them, but he is an isolated vigilante, working against the kingdom (perhaps unknowingly - Warrick gives him the benefit of the doubt, because he is not sure what else it could be). With tensions rising in Sylva, where evil and chaos fester like bacteria on a wound, there is no time to make insensitive decisions or politics with their allies, especially with war on the nearby horizon.
It would be foolish to subject Tephra to any kind of changes at this moment in time (and Warrick prefers the way the kingdom is currently run - it makes them strong, gives them allies who make them even stronger, and creates a haven that is both safe and protected). There has always been room for children and members to grow and take up their skills to prove their loyalty and honor; he cannot help that he has seen little to no initiative taken. There is perhaps Phoebus, but the young stallion is far from Warrick’s mind as Klaudius suddenly does not want the throne himself, but apparently Kromium does.
There is confusion on the sharp angles of Warrick’s face for the briefest of moments before his brow creases into a shadow across his dark eyes.
“Klaudius.” He says the other’s name carefully and slowly, the cerulean of his eyes boring into the stallion’s own, making sure that he is listening. “I decline your offer.” Warrick pauses, lifting his head slightly to meet the rising of Klaudius’ own, the ocean’s seabreeze filtering through them, weaving salt-laced fingers through the tangled and damp roots of their damp manes and forelocks. “If it is not a kingdom you wish to reside under, I further implore you and your family to take your leave to begin the structure of the plan you have just laid out to me. It will not be started here in Tephra beneath my rule; I encourage you to take it elsewhere in Beqanna.”
Warrick’s voice is final; there is no semblance of wavering in the steadiness of his words, or in the way that the Overseer places himself before the lavender stallion squarely. Ever patient and wise, Warrick can feel his generosity waning.
There would be no more discussion on Warrick’s part - only action, if need be.
With a flicker of lavender ear, he waits for all Warrick has to say. Hearing his plight about the strength of Tephra as it is. Personally he sees little in the acidic lands besides brush and fauna, rock and sea. It is merely a safe hold of the alliance that has formed in the other larger kingdoms. Disposable if swift action was not taken to make it rise again. His head tilts in confusion at why the old stallion wishes to hold onto something long forgotten. He decides it is not worth meddling over anymore. He had no desire for politics and wished to provide others the same freedoms. Obviously Warrick does not see his vision, and that is fine. Not everyone is as open minded. Even he had curiosity over what the Brotherhood actually was and their view point. Whether he agreed or not was an entirely different matter...
When he decides they have come to the inevitable impasse, the flows of lava begin to inch nearer to the lavender stallion. "Then we have no other option do we..." His gaze does not waver from the cobalt of the bay before him, "I had hoped it would not have come to this." His head rises as the glow of melted rock begins to coat the pale purple of his hide. Starting from his hooves and creeping up and around his body, "I will see you on the battlegrounds than and we shall settle this matter." His head dips slightly, the cracks of orange glow surrounding him light his profile in a broken display. "I have sent away my family already until this is resolved," he states as he turns to head for the border and cross into the common areas of Beqanna.
