[open] time for a new start - all

[Isilya]

A new year has begun with new things on the horizon - the perfect time for change. Isilya stands near the pool at the base of the waterfall and calls out to the kingdom, not using magic this time but instead her own voice. Her powers are drained from the effort of creating life and she gives everything she can to bring her son to life.

Excitement for him, and for the coming changes, course through her and to those that follow the call she offers a bright smile. “Good morning, my friends. Spring is around the corner and with it change and growth. It has been an absolute pleasure being your queen for the last six years. The time has come for a new era, though.” Those gold and green eyes find the winged stallion and her smile brightens.

“Warden will be our new King.” She steps to the side, giving him the chance to join her and say whatever he might wish. She has no intention of leaving the jungle - it has become her home - and she listens now as a member of the kingdom instead of it's queen.

simple and sweet

Isilya

Please wait to reply until @[Warden] gets a chance <3

[Warden]

resurrect the saint within the wretch

When Isilya’s eyes find his, there is a trickle of doubt that flares inside Warden’s chest. The horned stallion breaks the eye contact gracefully, afraid to linger for longer than a few seconds (their eyes hold the key to his ability, triggering him into their futures) in fear a vision would rattle him at the most inopportune moment. He wonders if Isilya can sense it - if they all will, eventually - the cold pit of dread that familiarly coils in his stomach, hollow and relentless. If she could, she is either unafraid or entirely foolish for accepting Warden’s offer to become their king. His pale pink lips twitch thoughtfully, knowing that for all the marvelous things Isilya is, foolish isn’t one of them.

The Watcher - silent, stoic, brooding - stands unwavering beside the queen as she calls for Tephra to rise and awaken.

Most of them are familiar, as much of his family call the volcanic land their home. He finds some comfort in their gazes, lingering most of all on a pair of violet eyes that somehow convinces a handsome smile to crack across his otherwise serious expression. Some of the Tephrans are lost on him, though, and he wonders at what point he will see them again (or had they already seen him, staring into the dark ocean during the darkest hours of twilight?).

Isilya steps aside and in a gesture so small, the crown falls onto his head.

“Thank you, Isilya,” Warden’s voice follows hers in a near jarring way - gravely and stony, yet there is no questioning the sincerity within it. He turns his attention to those standing before him, willing away any uncertainty that may show outwardly with a soft snort and a light toss of his head upwards. His visions have been quiet, thankfully, and so far he has not seen any atrocities to befall Tephra or its people. He only hopes he is able to keep it that way, with or without seeing the future. “I am more than honored to serve the home that once served me. I do not take the position of your King lightly,” he begins, turning his head to meet each of their gazes, the sunlight catching the deeply jeweled tones of his blue horns and the opals that sparkle brilliantly against the dark auburn of his chest and neck. “I am prepared to keep Tephra the safe haven that it is and to protect it at all costs.” The world isn’t safe, it never has been. He’s seen it.

“Of course, that cannot be done by myself alone. Please step forward or find me privately if you feel as though you have certain qualities that you are willing to use in order to make us stronger.” He pauses. “Tephra will be a proactive kingdom; we will need all the warriors and thinkers we can muster to keep us protected, as well as to keep us a formidable opponent for anyone who dares try.” His visions will only help Tephra so much - he has seen what the terrors are that lay within the future. They had to be prepared and ready for anything - peace only lasts for so long, and there were so many to protect within the kingdom. 

Warden

[Sabbath]

The twins are sleeping when she hears Isilya’s call. Sabbath rises from the den, squinting into the bright day as she makes her way toward the gathering group. She can see her brothers and sisters already approaching ahead - Chronos, Meraki, and Larke. Her parents sidle up to one another, kissing at the corner of each other’s lips. Saint and Savior are probably off racing or roughhousing somewhere nearby. She never considered how large her family is until they’re called together like this.

Larva lingers on the outskirts while Eucharist and Crowns settle to a stop beside her. They all listen quietly as their queen speaks, announcing the time has come to pass the crown to another. And then all those sage green eyes turn to Warden, watching him now. Sabbath listens patiently and shifts her weight.

When he is done, she steps forward, her pale head held high and her viperous gaze examining him carefully. “I feel I speak for much of my family when I say that we are all prepared to serve Tephra and keep her safe against those who may rise against us,” she says, briefly casting a venomous scowl to her father before looking to Warden once more. But Vulgaris only clears his throat and nods, unwilling to draw attention to himself.

Crowns tilts his head as he considers his mother’s words, but finally, he looks to Isilya and then to Warden. “I’ll keep Tephra safe,” he says, and his face lacks the usual childish grin he wears.

may my enemies live long                                  so they can see me prosper.

sabbath

Sabbath, Katarine, Crowns, Eucharist, Chronos, Meraki, Vulgaris, and Larva are all here. Maleficar is somewhere, watching all sneaky-like.

[Warlight]

Warlight

The second half of Warlight's morning patrol is forgotten as Isillya's call reaches her and the leopard-skin mare quickly returns to the cove where she had left Starsonder chasing little silver fish in the tide. She is surprised but pleased to see that Locheed has found her younger sister, and with a few sharp words to her offspring, the trio sets off to where Will knew the white queen would be waiting.

Quietly they add their numbers to the group gathered, Starsonder looking around with young, sparkling eyes at every horse, and Locheed purposefully ignoring them. But when Isilya begins to speak, all three of them direct their attention to her, then to the winged stallion.

A thin smile stretches across Warlight's speckled lips as Warden accepts his birth-right. The satisfaction is tinted with a shade of sadness to see the mare she considered a friend step down, but she feels that Isilya had made her final appointment as monarch wisely. She hopes the mare will remain. Her presence was one that Warlight found comforting, one she sometimes fancied she could feel woven into the trees and flowers even when the mare was seemingly nowhere close.

But Warden's words stir her, and she steps forward as he asks this of them and speaks of strength. She nods as another mare voices the thoughts very similar to the ones running through her own mind, and after another boy speaks up she does the same. 

"I will be proud to continue to serve Tephra under your leadership, Warden." Warlight's blue-black eyes find those of her uncle as her voice rises from the back of the gathering, strong and clear. He knew of what she offered, and she felt her blood flow hotter as she dipped her antlered crown and  fell silent.

— soul as sweet as blood red jam —

[Solace]

Politics rarely crosses Solace's mind in these wonderfully languid days of her retirement. Her time was consumed by the horde of children and grandchildren who called the tropics of The West home, and she would not have had it any other way. 

She made a point not to have it any other way.

But on this day, the rumor of something draws her from her retreat and into the sky. Warm thermals lift the winged mare, and with practiced ease she harnesses them. The warmth of the sun on her outreached wings and the giddying height infuse her with an with a particular energy that only flight had ever given her, and she he savors the pull of the wind as it combs back her mane and tail like streaming banners.

She circles high above her home; she sees her brother standing next to the flower-queen, and those that gather to watch him, and she smiles.

S

olace

    we're reeling through an endless fall
we are the ever-living ghost of what once was