"We Were Not Born to Sue..."

[Pharaoh]

"The prelate and the poet." Aværys chortled lightly as He repeated the alliterative sentiment, "E'en now dost the poet ply his vocation in so saying."

His attention was drawn to up and to the right, where Vrædyn began to unfasten his belt preparing to give more of himself to the water, it seemed.

"For you, Deus, I might wax evangelical..." Stripping the last of his vestments, the pretty pontiff slid down to join the other two on the submerged bench seat. "It is strange. I always fancied ours to be a crusader culture."

"And so it is. It is merely that I would expand upon our methods of conquest. When I was reborn in this fetching form, lads, I was an eruption of righteous rage set upon the goal of reordering our society... righting it. I was a blade forged in the fires of grief and fury. There is still a place in My church for the conqueror, to be sure, but We must verily acquaint Ourselves better with this new age ere We launch into such an enterprise. It is through ye that We shall receive some of that education." His attention turned to Finn at his assertion and the Founder smiled, pleased that it came as a proclamation, rather than an entreaty.

"Thou art." He agreed, lifting his head if only that he might nod it in affirmation. He shifted his body slightly away from Vrædyn to face Finn more directly, eyeing him with new and thorough scrutiny as if those golden eyes peered beyond his fleshly form into something far deeper.

"There are many who claim Leh'anafel lineage, aye, albeit fewer who bear it in sooth. Thou, Finn... thou dost stand amidst the latter and the smaller number. So I say: Strike thee up that ancient orchestra. Wake hearts and sway them toward thee. Thou art born to inspire and fit to command." He took in a deep, meditative breath and exhaled it in a contented sigh, before leaning to kiss Finn upon his cheek.

"Think thee how much more beautiful this world will be for thine effort."

[Finn]

'Twas the heat, surely, that had his cheeks so ruddy, his chest bepainted pink from the inside. The prince slipped into the water like a moonbeam in elven shape, and the golden god poured His attention upon Finn. His gaze was more potent than any audience he had known before. Even Talon hadn't fully come into the self-assurance the Twins owned. He was more Avialae than Draegir, though time might change that. He shivered as if with premonition, his cheek pressing into the kiss. Arvælyn's theme wound its way through his symphony, however, and he felt abashed.

His plan, at least, had merit in the Moritasi's glittering eyes.

Finn nodded. If he was going to be given power, position, and prestige, then he was going to use it to make the world a better place.

He cleared his throat. "I suppose I might aid you as well, Your Highness."

Though he daren't gaze past the living god, his voice was easily pitched to catch the fairer ear.

"I haven't the wisdom to fully understand your religion, but as long as I can follow my conscience, you shall have no trouble from me." Certainly, he hoped Vrædyn was a good man, inasmuch as men as powerful as him had the luxury to be good. And certainly, he hoped that Vrædyn and Arvælyn could find common ground, work together rather than try to sidestep and backstab each other as Thalya and Cithæra did.

And if pontifex and bardus could cooperate, they would have greater effect than either of them alone. He knew that much. But regardless, Finn would finish the Song, a song to fix what was wrong, to take what was broken and make it whole, a song so beautiful it would bring the world back into tune.

Then he would sing it.

[Pharaoh]

Aværys' ease seemed to flood out of His nimbus and pour directly into the Emblems of his Radiant as it waxed. After whispering his warm words against Finn's flesh, he turned to regard Vrædyn as the human suggested they collaborate.

"Art and Faith have ever been intimate friends." Vrædyn observed with an affirming nod to Finn. "We might aid each other."

The God-Emperor of Solunarium kissed that pale cheek, next. The two were similarly complected, and neither of a hue that resembled his own Hytori bronze. At Finn's demurring, Aværys arched an eyebrow as he withdrew his lips from the face of the Princeps Pontifex.

"The modern Solunarian church hath not the wisdom to fully understand Our religion, Finn. Their scripture was cobble together from our quotations and edited by mortals with their own agendas who could not reach Us. We were ill-prepared for Our fall. When one hath Ambition, Hunger and Pow'r as His domains, hubris doth stowaway withal." Aværys observed, sounding more amused the regretful over his past folly. He had been well and truly punished, after all.

"Your 'concience' concerneth Me not if thou dost follow My tenets. Pow'r cometh in many forms, and I care not whether thou dost follow the strictures of the Solunarian church, so long as thou dost honour Me and the pillars of My domains. Mine only quarrel with 'conscience', child, is where it doth stand athwart the due course of advancement. I cannot abide that brand of selflessness that doth offset a path to personal puissance, nor humility that hampers hunger." He looked deeply, now, into Finn's pale eyes.

"Do you understand what Mine attention doth betoken? What My Mark doth declare? It proclaimeth that in the schema of the great hierarchies that do sustain stability in this world, thou art special." His hand slid down both their backs to rest at the small, just lightly resting on the shelves of their rears.

"Superior. Canst thou brook that designation, or wilt thou disappoint Me in demurring from thy due?"

[Finn]

Finn nodded, confirming what Vrædyn said. They could speak more at length when their God didn't demand their attention upon Him. The bard tried to listen attentively, but the way Aværys touched him—touched them—made him wonder whether the God sought bridal mystics as well. The baseborn human was already on a likely path to becoming a concubine of a prince, which was quite enough to wrap his head around. Should he become the concubine of a God—that might break his mind into a thousand pieces.

"My selflessness and humility were on display at Kaladon," he admitted. "But I have always striven for more. For what I wanted. And now that I have a better idea of Arvælyn's path... and that ours will remain intertwined... I suppose I will have to grow accustomed to being magnatus. If Gods and Elves proclaim me better than my baseborn birth and I strive for more... then I suppose I must be special." He couldn't quite get himself to say superior. But he was already erring toward Aværys' Word.

"I thought I was the chain to the anchor keeping Arvælyn from going off course, but You and Your sister had different plans for us. I will think on what You have said."

After a moment, he already had a question: "Does that make me superior to everyone? Do you want me to eclipse the reigning queen? To make Zalkyirax my steed?"

He startled a laugh out of himself; it all sounded ridiculous, but so too did the fact that princes and gods deemed him special. Finn didn't think he had a poor opinion of himself, merely that his lot in life could only rise so high before it would crumble like a tower struck by lightning.

[Pharaoh]

Aværys chuckled at Finn's reference to his trial at Kaladon.

"Selflessness, perhaps, but humility?" He chuckled, "What I saw thither was willfulness. Courage withal, for it doth take a brazen heart to defy the Divine as thou hast. Were thou Solunarian raised and behaved thus, We might have let thee burn." He shrugged cavalierly and kissed Finn's shoulder. "But I am pleased We let thee live. Thou'rt so precious a beauty to blithely discard, sweet human." The deity smiled encouragingly as Finn's acquiescence.

He sniggered heartily at Finn's allusion.

"Chains are the domain of My sister-bride. All relationships have their tethers, but I do not believe thou dost hamper nor hinder thine amatus. If ye both be wise, thou twain shalt rise the faster for the influence of the other." He tipped his head back to laugh at that last question, as Finn did the same. Even Vrædyn joined in, albeit half a moment after the other two- as if nervous to dare to make merry at the mention of dragons.

"Peace! Speak soft when thou dost invoke dragons in jest! But to answer thy query: In general? Næ. Gods and dragons are thy betters, but... There are ways in which thou art superior to e'en the loftiest of creatures. Mortality hath boons denied to them for whom time hath less meaning. Explore thyselves, my Radiant, and learn what maketh thee peerless."

Vrædyn listened attentively, though he seemed disinclined to contribute much to the exchange. Perhaps it was his natural deference to the God to whom he'd devoted his life far more than most. He rather wished he had Finn's ease, since it seemed to be welcomed by the Rex Regnum.

[Finn]

"Now who's the poet?" he murmured as Aværys corrected his diction, but he smiled and paid heed to all the God had to say. Finn could not deny that the God's admiration felt like sunshine, that He could have been a solar deity withal. His arm tightened around the elven seeming of Streleon reborn, and he had half a mind to invite the God back to the bedchamber he shared with his amatus because Arvælyn could hardly fault him if the God chose them both as lovers. But no, he focused.

"Zalkyriax is... the closest thing I might have to a father-in-law. I mean him no disrespect and hope he comes to love me as family, albeit short-lived compared to him." Unless... Finn didn't know if emblems increased lifespan. He could see deities wanting Their chosen to live longer, fuller lives, especially if their works reflected well upon Them. It was something to think about, though he wouldn't ask about it now. When Varvara had claimed all his blood after a simple bloodletting, he was cautious about anything being taken as a deal.

Though Vrædyn was a more powerful Mesmer than him, the elf wasn't guarding his symphony too tightly. Finn grew quieter, not wanting to engender jealousy. As high as Finn might rise, Vrædyn had other sorts of superiority over him.

In any case, it would be better for him to process what was being said. Aværys had mentioned gods and dragons, but not queens of Solunarium. He wondered if that was an intended omission, which seemed more likely given his corrections of Finn's recollections from Kaladon. But that would put him at odds with Vrædyn, the bard becoming the vizier who made a puppet of the queen—unless he took more umbrage with the revelation of his starborn uncle than he showed.

There were so many variables, Finn was going to have to keep observing before he made any decisions, let alone actions.

[Pharaoh]

"Alas! I have had time abounding to practise my prattle, imprisoned as I was lo, these several millennia. If Mine oratory be florid, it be in part for the trends of the time I last spake these tongues, and in part for the sewn seeds of idle ages." Aværys sighed in satisfaction. He was free and surrounded by beauty in profusion.

"You should be so fortunate." The Rex Regnum granted, at Finn's expressed hope for familial bonds with the draconic line of his lover. "They are covetous creatures, our Zalkyrians, but passing loyal. I would not fain find Myself at odds with them, but I have been blessed with their favour, ever since the murder of My firstborn lifetimes ago..." He trailed off, a wisp of wistfulness pervading the hedonism for a trice.

Vrædyn cocked one of his prominent eyebrows at the sense of an incursion into his Symphony. The last time Finn had made such an overture, it had been met with chastisement. On this occasion, Vrædyn's hackles lowered promptly enough and he sighed.

"My position was never promised. The youngest son of His Divine Radiance saw to that when he contrived the Sol'Aværys laws of succession in the aftermath of the Rending. My loyalty was to the Crown when the Crown was the closest bridge to the Founders I could find. But now I sit in the presence of my messiah- His chosen." The light eyes of the prince scanned the tanned bronze skin of the Deus Imperator, and then across to Finn. It occurred to him that both he and this human were pale-skinned, dark-eyed creatures in the vein of Varvara herself. Did the King of Kings, perchance, have a 'type'? He cast that from his mind as soon as he noted the broadening of Aværys' grin that seemed to suggest he was aware of the line of thought.

"My allegiance is first to Him, of course, but... We are brothers after a fashion now, Farstrider. Linked by this mark that only we in all the world do bear. In the presence of the Master of Majesty, all lesser bonds of fealty are forfeit. I am His creature. Beyond that? I am still getting the lay of the shifting land."

[Finn]

Finn caught the minor chord in Aværys' symphony and wondered quietly whether working it into audible music would please his benefactor or upset Him. Perhaps time would tell, giving him more context to understand the will of the Divine Twins. Something in Vrædyn's made him think of Varvara's face; he wasn't digging in either symphony, but his senses were open to them. Whatever wasn't hidden from him, he took into himself. Perhaps someday he would write music to encompass some of the prince's feelings for Aværys, as well.

"His Divine Radiance has set us apart," Finn mused. "Above. Aside." His strong hand kneaded the God's side where it rested. "There is a new détente in Solunarium. I don't truly care who rules so long as Arvælyn is... well, safety is an illusion, but as equipped to weather the storms of time and politics as possible. Regardless of our new place, chosen of an active, living God, we do have to navigate Solunarian politics. We have roles to play: prelate and poet. Brothers." He smiled softly at that, not taking more than was offered, but pleased to have even a tenuous bridge built between them.

The bard wondered if he ought to feel envious of Vrædyn's faith. He had the fortune to know a Drægir and two Moritasi personally, and while he respected their power, he couldn't claim to have any religious, spiritual feeling toward them. Perhaps he would grow to understand it as he grew to know the princely pontifex, or the emblem would link him to the divine power in such a way that he recognized something in a soul-deep fashion.

"Is it safe to assume that Your Divine Radiance and Domina Varvara share one will and plan?" he asked carefully. "I would hate to be pitted against my amatus should there be some divine disagreement."

[Pharaoh]

"Take comfort, Minstrel. The Princeps Draconum, firstborn son and heir to the Crownwyrm and chosen of Varvara Imperatrix, hath lofty protectors who share that burden with thee." Aværys observed, "And if his heart be true to the common cause that doth bind Atraxian hearts, both Divine and Draconic, then he will remain under the watchful eye of the Exalted. The politics thou wouldst be wisest to fear are those that wend outside of Solunarium's sands. Though long We have rested, We have enemies with long memories..."

Vrædyn cleared his throat and spoke up.

"When it comes to the internal politics, Farstrider, your amatus is the son of their deftest conductor who doth employ thee in her clandestine order. As we are now in a brotherhood of our own, you may also rely upon me to help you navigate the mire, as well."

Aværys slid off the bench seat and out of the arms of His chosen, rising to slowly wade through the warm waters, sniggering at Finn's query.

"Mistake Us not, child. In solitude, We were only brought closer... fortified in the righteousness and virtue of Our crusade. Our will is as one, and We will stand together unto æternity or oblivion. But I do hope, in either instance, We bring more hearts into the fold of Our great work. Alas," He turned back to face them,

"Patience is a necessity, albeit an irritating one. I have played enough at interloping, this day. Worry not, My Radiant Ones, I shan't intrude upon thine every rendezvous. With My resurrected liberty, I find Myself a bit... indulgent. Eager to soak up the pleasures long abjured from My senses. But I remain master of Mine impulses, and well I know that the sweetest pleasures are cultivated o'er time.

"Fare thee well, My Empyreal Exemplars." He turned to ascend the steps out of the bath, the dimples of His bare arse shifting with the taut, chiseled muscles doing their graceful work so clearly beneath bronze skin. "Be about the work of empire building, and always remember that the Golden Path slopes ever upward." His Divine Nimbus seemed to glow brighter as He said a Vastian word that seemed to bear particular potency as He uttered it.

"Excelsior!"

And in a flash of sunlight, He was gone.

[Finn]

"Thank you," he said simply to Vrædyn. And then their divine benefactor was pulling away from them, ascending out of the water. He found himself standing in the waist-deep water, wishing Aværys remained close and having complex emotions about that wish. Perhaps the divine sister wasn't one he should jest about, but he nodded as he took the God's instruction.

"Fare ye well, Your Divine Radiance," he declared, more formal, in the manner of a proper bard.

Higher.

Through his Rune, he could almost sense how Aværys traveled, similar to Traversion, but not the same—a divine mystery indeed. The room felt emptier, smaller, and their two symphonies not loud enough to fill the space left behind like a vaccuum. They were silent for some time, and then Finn remembered he was naked in the bath, and looked toward the prince.

"Well, my brother-in-grace," he managed, plucking a term of particular endearment from some ancient Vallenor text, "that was more than I expected for our meeting."

Now he didn't know whether they would discuss the visit, their thoughts, and all, or whether he would be dismissed, the both of them needing time to mull over what had been said by all present, and what that would mean for the future. It was a matter for Vrædyn to decide. Perhaps they were equals under Aværys' eye, but in His absence, the one was princeps, paterfamilias, and pontifex maximus, while Finn remained Arvælyn's tagalong.

Patient blue eyes fixed on the princely elf, wondering what the future held for them.