Legend of Ransera

"I suppose." Arvælyn remarked, arching a golden eyebrow. "Though 'elders' seems a bit of an understatement in this circumstance..." He trailed off. It was odd. He felt half ashamed and half defensive in response to the coarseness revealed in Æros' sentiment. Once again in a matter of moments he was reminded of Finn, and how he bucked against the Solunarian system... albeit less often and with less vehemence since his crowning at Kaladon.

"Right..." The smoke dissipated in a sharp huff, which Arvælyn consciously emitted to waft the evidence of his ire off and out of view. "Well, I didn't grow up with much, and I lost a lot of that along the way. I always thought that was the source of my nature, but... perhaps it is also my inherent inclination to hoard things away." He pursed his lips in contemplation as silence passed between them for a span.

"Indeed. I don't fancy being parted from Finn at length... least of all when he's putting himself in danger for some nebulous purpose." He'd been present for the initial briefing, but hadn't been in his right mind at the time. He knew, of course, that it pertained to dragons and some sort of relic, but in truth he didn't know much more than the most cursory of information gathered over dinner from Finn.

"Well, at least we have each other's company in the absence of our amati." He smiled, toasting vaguely and sipping as the other spoke of a few of the struggles they were facing during this transition period.

"That's really the rub, isn't it? We lack equilibrium and want for checks and balances to sustain the new system. With no real precedents in place and with Solunarium having been so isolated and fixed to the old ways for so long, it's truly an uphill battle. We're reinventing the wheel, as it were." He sighed, shaking his head.

Arvælyn had to chuckle,

"Merely a spark in the eyes of our ancestors." He added through a smirk that was pressed to the rim of his cup as he tipped it back for another sip.

"I fear that was rather the point, in my case." He mused at this talk of 'formative years'. "The majority of my life has been a trial. Founders know it's felt like one, but... I didn't realise it was of the more intentional sort. Not that I believe my lot was chosen for me specifically, but that however I was to handle what came my way would speak to my worthiness here... Whilst Prince Arkænyn was sent to a regal lot in Auris, mine was lower the common... Lower than the lot of a Solunarian sla-..." He pursed his lips and knitted his brow, as he suddenly gleaned the meaning of a very old lesson.

"Oh, I see..." He whispered through a wan smile, as if more to himself than his current companion.

"Ire?" His face fell flat once more and he tilted his head, as he looked to Æros, bemused. He wasn't certain why the senator's train of thought took him from worry for their lovers to ire toward Hilana, but he shrugged it off as the topic shifted.

"Honestly, I think the question has been well settled for most critical thinkers who aren't under the sway of Sanguinist Mesmers. Even if my diluted Varværyn blood is mitigated by the draconic, there is still the fact that-..." He paused, lest he utter secrets that were not his own to divulge, "...the Emblems have reemerged. The Radiant and the Tethered are born anew... A few of them, now, and only one Mark is borne by a member of the Unbroken Line. Thus have the Founders spoke, but... This is not commonly known. Please... do not share this knowledge with others." Arvælyn urged, with sudden sternness. The Rune of Mesmer surged at his wrist, as if asking to be employed, but the prince let it dim back to restfulness.

"Intentional after a fashion... I don't think I was deliberated placed into my specific lot, but I do believe I was sent abroad to live with none of the trappings I might have enjoyed here. At first I thought I was sent away for my safety... to protect me from the machinations of the Solunarian court, but now I'm not so sure. I think perhaps I was meant to see the chaos of the outside world to better frame my perspective here." At the compliment, he shook his head.

"I don't think that's true, actually. I don't think I displayed remarkable strength. I simply survived. I survived under the same abject conditions that many, many people endure. There are more poor people in the world than wealthy, and in most cultures poverty is particularly difficult to brook. You're always hungry... always wanting. Never satisfied with your position in the world. There's this... illusion of freedom that rarely ever translated to actual happiness." He purses his lips and went silent for a contemplative moment, before Æros broke the quiet that hung in the air between them.

"Let us not dwell on the risk to our beloveds... I don't get enough sleep as it is, being as busy as I am. The last thing I need haunting my nights are the stirrings of worry over things out of our control." He sighed, frowning. He hadn't spent a lot of time apart from Finn since coming to Solunarium, so it was very easy to be overwhelmed by concern for him. Finn's absence felt unnatural, so the reminder that he was off in a land of unknowns was enough to set Arry's head spinning in dark directions.

Arvælyn hadn't considered the supposition that the Founders silence and ostensible inaction might be born of a desire for their Marked to act on their behalf.

"Do you think?" The notion wasn't beyond belief, to be sure. "I imagine it would serve Them to expand Their reach farther at some point. I don't doubt that They are observing and assessing as we go about our lives. I have no particular insight into when or even if they'll choose to intervene. It would certainly make my life easier if I had such knowledge... All our work to manage and adapt the Umbrium could be for naught, if Aværys Imperator suddenly wishes to reclaim His ancient throne..." A slight grimace painted Arry's lips, not because he would begrudge the Deus Imperator His claim, but because he was bending over backwards to pave the path for his draconic dynasty to assume power in earnest and he didn't wish for the efforts to be ultimately inconsequential.

Arvælyn sipped at his wine while Æros clarified his case and nodded when he concluded.

"Praise be to Aværys." He replied wryly, as Æros went into the description of the type who 'always want more'.

"Actually, people in the lower castes seem more contented here than the wealthy... Which I found odd, initially, but now that I understand the ways of the realm makes perfect sense to me. The wealthy are more likely to mitigate their conditioning than the poor. Which is often to their detriment..." He observed with a blithe shrug. The notions of freedom being what they were in the North, he wondered whether he'd have shirked some sort of arcane manipulation to make him happier in his lot. He supposed such a course would have rendered him unworthy of his current position, but it might have felt like a solid remedy to the woes of those days had it ever been offered.

His reverie broke at the talk of the Founders.

"Mm. Perhaps..." He adopted a rather impish smile, "In truth, They could be watching us right now. Irrespective of Their marks, they're able to inhabit those who share their blood. As I understand it, it's rather like the way Re'hyæans can communicate parent to child on a larger scale and more... subtly."

He sighed as the talk turned to the potential for sudden and severe upheaval. Indeed it would have been challenging to face that circumstance now. He was beginning to get invested in the future they were building in the Umbrium, and he knew his mother had bolder aspirations still- She was certainly of the ilk who always wanted more.

"Well. It wouldn't be the first time I built toward something passionately only to lose it abruptly." He pondered the last such occasion- When he'd been the star of a play. Ironically, he'd been portraying the very sovereign who might commandeer his claim and undo his work.

"But, as they say: Deus Vult."

"The Golden Path." Arvælyn said with a slight nod. He may have been new to the Varværyn Faith, but he'd been an attentive, curious student. Naturally his mother saw to it that he was given access to the Scripturam Integram editions of the sacred texts, rather than those that were edited down for those of the Faith who had humbler lots in life.

"Ah yes... I believe Their Marks ease the conduit between Them and us..." He trailed off, pondering the Emblem that rounded his neck. Finn got a crown and he got a collar. Perhaps that was fitting, after a fashion. Arvælyn was not someone who needed to be reminded that he was royal- He relished it. He did need to be reminded of humility, and so Her mark was a stark reminder that he owed fealty to higher powers. Finn, conversely, was not naturally inclined toward thinking of himself as powerful or influential... He knew that he served and didn't need that reminder. His Emblem was there to remind him that he could wield a sceptre as deftly as a lute.

"I was an actor in Kalzasi before I knew I was connected to Solunarium at all..." Arvælyn said, wistfully. "Ironically, the theatre produced a Common-translation of 'Aværys Eternal'. I was originally cast to play Phædryn, but the lead actor was having trouble in the role so I had to take over rather last minute. I knew the whole play back to front. I had a few weeks in the role, but then Talon's wedding happened... There was an attack and the Shokaze... that was their king, essentially, well he was assassinated. Our production was halted, because it was perceived as having anti-Arcas sentiment at a time when such things were markedly unpopular in the region. So, my first lead role was cut short. We ended up coming here, because Karnor was volatile and a friend did a bit of digging into my past and found ties to this place. We met Phocion when he was visiting as the Solunarian ambassador, and he invited us to visit and..." He spread his hands,

"Here we are. My acting career is behind me. I do miss it."