the rising son [Finn, Arvaelyn]

[Talon]

D A E M O N

75 Ash 122
Continued from here.

He turned, lowering his wing as he did so in order to avoid knocking one of the men nearby. With his height and statue it was not difficult for him to reach the golden elf behind him. A flick of his thoughts brought the decanter of wine floating upwards. He refilled the goblet with a steady stare into the eyes of his “acquaintance”. He stepped up to the edge of the box, hand grasping the goblet, not missing a single drop that was poured from the decanter. He leaned forward, raising the goblet to his lips with a small smirk. Taking a very small sip he swallowed then extended it to the elf.

“If it is only wine you are after?” A quirk of his brow before leaving the man to the wine he stepped back. He eyed the golden elf, perhaps a bit too steadily.

Turning he regarded the exchange between dragon and mortal renewed interest. Of all the things he had expected to unravel during the course of this celebration, this had not been one of them. The power dynamic in Solunarium had shifted irrevocably for the current players of its illustrious game. It was a dynamic they were unaccustomed to. He could only wonder how long it lasted before the demigod behind him grew bored of being an observer and decided to reclaim what was his by right. That might have been tomorrow. It might have been a hundred years from now. Time flowed differently for the perspective of immortals.

When Zalkyriax met his gaze, he returned the stare steadily before giving a nod of his head. Neither the smoke nor dragonfire were a threat to him, he who was the Divine of Light and a masterful elementalist who was kin to such a furious and passionate element. He knew very well what it was that still roiled in the dragon’s heart when the two of them stared at each other. The grudge that Zalkyriax bore toward him would have to be settled through means other than fire and fury. He had no doubt the dragon knew this. When the Crownwyrm quit the field, he watched the dragons depart.

“Many are the challenges ahead for the Kingdom of the Sun and Moon.” Stepping forward he hoisted himself up on the ledge of the observation box. To the true lord and master of Solunarium he spoke over his shoulder.

“If, perchance, you find yourself in the City of Cathena, my villa is open to you. There may yet be more wine to be had…” A small smirk. “...among other things.”

Leaping from the observation box, he spread his wings and soared through the air until he was over the sands of the arena. An arena where he had fought and spilled blood. An arena where the course of the events of his life had changed. For better or worse, he did not yet know but he was changed. His life had been changed. He could be thankful for that. In its own strange way, Solunarium had been the realm of salvation he hoped it would be. Even with its thorns and vipers, somehow, he had found a measure of solace there.

Landing upon the sands upon steady legs, Daemon folded his wings behind him. Where he walked, the Light followed. Whether natural or artificial, it found its way to the silver of his hair, his eyes, and his wings. Where Avaerys and those descended from Him were bastions of a glittering golden radiance, His was a sharper more silvered light. The crystal luminance of a rising dawn, ringing true to his moniker of Dawnking.

“Congratulations, I believe, are in order.” He offered an inclination of his head to Arvaelyn. “Your Exalted Highness.”

His eyes drifted to Finn. He was glad to see the minstrel alive, unharmed, and in the arms of the man he loved.

“Master Finn.”

[Arvælyn]

Aværys licked His lips and accepted the offered goblet, taking a long, relishing draught with His golden eyes never leaving Arcas'.

"For the nonce..." He smirked, as He drew the goblet away from His face and regarded the scene playing out on the sands. In truth, Aværys found Himself genuinely surprised by the brazen act executed by the draconic dynasty. Zalkyriax was correct by both contemporary and ancient law. Though the father who endured in his draconic heart had never pressed the claim, the dragons had a right to half the realm. Even Aværys Himself would have been courting misadventure to claim otherwise. This turn of events upset His plans for His return but, rather than being vexed, He found Himself entertained... perhaps even further liberated. He arched an eyebrow at Arcas' invitation, sensing an undercurrent that had never passed between them.

"It appears I may have a bit more time for travel than I anticipated. Mayhaps I shall accept thine offer." He chuckled as His winged companion quit the stands in favour of the sands, and downed what remained of the goblet he'd abandoned for his flight, before secreting himself away once more.

Meanwhile...

"Our obeisances have been observed." Cithæra informed her party, "Let us quit the sands that our cousin houses might offer their diversions. Her Divine Radiance will be in much need of them, I suspect." She smirked, as she began to lead the way across the sands toward the rear of the stadium.

As they walked back, Arvælyn paused with a start as they were intercepted by an unexpected guest. His fiery eyes widened at first, unsure whether his brand new position had already incurred the sort of danger Finn had predicted, in the form of the realm's ancient enemy come to strike him down. But before the impulse toward fight or flight was even upon him, congratulations were delivered. He blinked.

"...Gratitude, Highness." He knitted his brow bemusedly. "I... suppose I ought to have sensed your presence before now, but... Well, it's been a Season, Highness." He let out a sigh that it felt like he'd been holding in for months.

"It's. Been. A. Season."

[Finn]

Finn was only too happy to quit the field per Cithæra's will, and he walked with one arm around Arvælyn and the other cradling the lyre that belonged to his amatus' mother house. Though his attention was then almost entirely upon his dragonborn lover, a thrill across his brow had him glancing back, looking for the familiar fire of Aværys' gaze. Perhaps he was imagining it, but in any case, he was distracted by the arrival of Arcas-cum-Talon-cum-Dæmon.

Without letting go of Arvælyn, he curled over the lyre in a half-bow.

"My Shinsei," he declared in Synnekar. "It gladdens my heart to see you well."

His Shinsei might become a problem sooner rather than later, or, at least, Finn's divided loyalties. The bard might be devoted to Arvælyn, and he might be a Silver Sentinel in fact rather than in role, but he was never going to support action taken against his homeland or his people.

The aetheric crown about his head seemed to keen just where his inner ear could hear it, perhaps gathering strength from the adulation of the crowds, both for his music and for his favored place among the new heir to one of Solunarium's throne. Finn still didn't know how it all worked, and Aværys didn't seem keen to explain to His acolyte.

"Out of the pan and into the dragonfire," he murmured to himself. Arvælyn was flying high now, and Finn could only hope he didn't fly too close to the sun. Louder, with a bemused sort of smile, "Aside from boyhood fantasies, I never truly envied an Avialae's wings, but now I rather wish I had them so I could keep up with Arvælyn." He chuckled and tightened his arm about the dragon prince's shoulders. Now, he would surely have flying dreams.

"Are you settling in Solunarium, Dæmon?" he asked more casually, more quietly. Talon had always wanted him to be more informal with him, and while it was more difficult now that he had become a Draegir, Finn could make the effort. After facing off with the Twins, he didn't truly fear the demigod—only one, after all—even though he could likely obliterate Finn with a thought.

[Talon]

D A E M O N

He did not miss the widening of Arvaelyn’s eyes and it was a moment before he remembered that he was supposed to be the ancestral enemy of everything Solunarian. In light of that realization, he willed the light and aura around him to be more peaceful. It would be hard to remember that Arvaelyn, whom he thought of firstly in the context of Kalzasi, was being groomed to inherit a very different realm.

“I imagine you are preoccupied.” He cast a glance around the arena, taking note of those who had taken note of them. He waved away the apology.

“I was not projecting myself in a truly noticeable way. Only those familiar with my presence took notice of it. Your father among them.” There was a bit of weariness to his voice as he spoke on Zalkyriax. He would have to find a means of putting that dragon’s fury to rest in a peaceful way. If there was a peaceful way to be found. At Arvaelyn’s weary declaration, his eyes softened and he nodded.

“Aye.” He knew quite well just the kind of season it had been. In some ways, he was glad it was over. In other ways, he was exhilarated at the prospect of the future that these events would set in motion. It had been ages since he had felt…challenged? Excited? Intrigued? He could not yet put a finger on the full breadth of his emotions. They were complex and he needed more time to rest, recover and reflect upon the events that he had endured over the past year. He nodded to Finn with a smile.

“As I am glad that you are as well.” He gestured to them both. “I feared for you both before. Some of those fears are put to rest with this revelation. Some of them now only grow.”

He chuckled at the joke, flexing his own wings briefly. He was very glad to have them back after being without them for months. He had a feeling he would shift between them being present and dismissed in the days to come. For the moment, however, they were a comfort and he would take as many of those as he could while he could. As he examined Finn, he caught sight of the presence that was affixed to him. It was a presence that he was familiar with and while it perplexed him he could only hope that Finn knew what he was doing. While it made that nagging feeling of mild jealousy rear its head in his chest, he pushed it down. Finn had never truly been overly devoted to any god in particular, if the man chose to ingrain himself in the norms of Solunarium, he hoped it only served to keep both Finn and Arvaelyn safe. At Finn’s question, he nodded.

“I was invited to observe the festivities.” He did not say who had invited him. “I had intended to offer a gift to Solunarium’s reigning House. It seems now I must fashion two of them.”

He looked to Arvaelyn then.

“Which brings me to why I approached the two of you, Exalted Highness. The road ahead will be a challenging one. I know that you are both hale and capable of protecting yourselves. However, I would offer you both a gift. Whether by my skill at the aetherforge, a gift of one of my many runes, or a blessing of divine grace, the choice is yours.”

[Arvælyn]

As Finn's crown-like divine mark surged around his brow, Arvælyn's seemed to tense about his throat like the choke of a collar. Strangely, the momentary tightening served to make the dragonborn Re'hyæan more, rather than less, comfortable in the presence of the realm's ancient foe. It was like the tightening of a finger through the collar that was only placed there to help loosen it.

"'Preoccupied' is one word for it." Arvælyn conceded with a chuckle, but it faded at the mention of his father. He glanced skyward, but there was no dragonsign anymore, just the lazy rotation of the supplemental sun. Zalkyriax was still quite the mystery to his child. Both of Arry's parents had a cryptic streak in common. He supposed it made sense, given that his father was an exceedingly long-lived and ancient being and his mother was a spymistress, but that didn't make it any less confounding.

Cithæra led their party into the holding area to the rear of the stadium, from whence the next act was emerging to take their place on the sands. She turned to regard the trio, inclining her head to the foreign prince. The Grandmaster Sembler smiled ever so faintly as she mildly regarded him.

"Your Highness of Kalzasi, what an unexpected surprise. I don't mean to interrupt, but..." She looked to Finn and Arvælyn, "Your belongings have been conducted to your new apartments in the royal residences of The Palatium Umbrarum." She gestured to one of her Sentinels, who took a sentry post along the wall. "Sentinel Relara will transport you there when you're through."

"Mater." Arvælyn acknowledged and, with another nod, the Princeps Sibylla pivoted and made her way over to a wall where her other children were in a huddle, and guided them around and corner and out of sight.

Turning his attention back to Dæmon, he was surprised at the offer presented them.

"Oh!" He blinked and smiled. He didn't know this divine prince as well as his amatus, and though he knew Arcas represented a foe of the realm, he had a sense that something was altered. Perhaps this was amongst those paradigm shifts the Founders had prophesied when they visited Kaladon.

"That is most thoughtful, Highness. I would be delighted to accept." Wondering what he ought to request, he glanced to Finn. Perhaps his response would lend some insight into he question.

[Finn]

Finn was politic enough to keep his visage clear while publicly displayed like this, but Talon and Arvælyn knew him well enough to read subtler signals. What might have been a glum smile was a weary twitch at the corner of his mouth, the ghost of a crooked smile. He too was unsure what these changes meant for Arvælyn and his safety. Time would tell, and Finn would stand sentinel—literally.

At Cithæra's instruction, he bowed and made proper thanks given they were in public. He watched her go, his mind still muddling over Dæmon's offer. Finn was no royal—neither here nor in Kalzasi where the Avialae wielded power as here the elves and dragons. That the Draegir considered him a friend and worthy of divine gifts was a dizzying thought, truth be told.

"Ah," he said thoughtfully when Arvælyn looked to him for leadership in this. The Skyforge was quite far away, and while he could sense the Rune of Traversion mirrored in his divine friend, he didn't know if it would cause him pain to return home even now. "Your continued friendship is gift enough for me, my Shinsei." He laughed, a brief, genuine thing. "I might have played at being a Dawnmartyr in my youth with a stick for a sword and a rubbish bin lid for a shield... I suppose I would be happy for your blessing. Perhaps... if I were to travel to your realm, you would not keep the door closed?"

The Sentinels had honed his runes to mastery, pushing him and instructing him and opening his eyes to the possibility. It was said that he had achieved the power to reach other planes, and he supposed Talon could give him a foothold into places few mortals had ever been. That would make for a song, surely.

And if things went south down south in Solunarium, it would be nice to have a direct line to such a powerful friend.

[Talon]

D A E M O N

He inclined his head to the noblewoman as she passed her message to Arvaelyn and Finn. Once both of them had their indication that they would be willing to accept a gift, he smiled.

“Most excellent! However, I think a quieter place might be in order for the granting of gifts. I do believe the sands of the arena are about to become occupied.” He could understand the appeal of the bloodsports that Solunarium engaged in. Kalzasi had a version of the fighting but they were seldom lethal and in fact many steps were taken to prevent them from becoming so. The displays in Kalzasi were for showmanship and for dazzling the crowd. Displays in Solunarium had a much more brutal edge to them. Of course, he was aware that there were circles in his homeland that traded in those more brutal showings. It was an aspect of mortals that craved such a thing on a primal level that could not be avoided no matter where one went.

“Although, I sincerely doubt that I would be welcomed in the halls of the Palatium Umbrarum. I also doubt that Her Divine Radiance would welcome me in the halls of the Palatium Furiarum. In the absence of those two homes, I would extend the invitation to His Exalted Highness, Phaedryn Sol’Zalkyrion Arvaelyn Princeps Draconum and His Esteemed Grace, the Master Finn, to walk the halls of my home instead.” He gave a rather artful bow with a sweep of both his arm and a wing before righting himself. With a slight smirk he looked at some of the Silver Sentinels that were not far from them.

“You are, of course, welcome to bring an entourage with you if it would allay fears of any ill-intent. I promise this is a gesture of goodwill, one of many I imagine that I will be showing Solunarium in the days to come.” He brought his hands down to rest at the small of his back as he awaited their decision. It was not lost on him the complexities of this tumultuous political situation. He was the living enemy of their kingdom’s faith and had been for thousands of years, even if he had been unaware of that fact for the majority of this life. The Crownwyrm had just declared his right to sovereignty. He was standing in front of and offering gifts and travel to his private home to the immediate heir of that throne.

Arvaelyn had a target on his back. Finn, by extension of being Arvaelyn’s known lover, had just as big of a target if not a larger one, on his back as well. Thus it was oddly fortuitous in his mind that they could not have been safer in his presence. For all the scheming nobles and politicians in Solunarium, he had no desire to infringe upon their internal games. It remained to be seen whether he had a role in playing them. Which meant that both Arvaelyn and Finn had nothing to fear from him. As far as old enemies went, he had come to a truce with Avaerys and Varvara. The road ahead with both of them was still uncertain but for the moment, held no immediate animosity.

“I expect you will need a moment.” Stepping back, he gave them both a smile before spreading his wings. “When you are ready, you need only speak my name and I will come to you.”

With a flap of his wings he lifted himself off the ground slightly.

“I look forward to seeing the both of you.” He gave both Arvaelyn and Finn a gentle smile. “There are brighter days ahead.”

With that he departed. When and where the two of them ultimately decided to accept his gift would be up to them but he would allow them the time to think it through more thoroughly. If, ultimately, a different location was chosen to meet the two of them, he would do so.

[Arvælyn]

"Quite right..." Arvælyn conceded, glancing through the gates to where Prince Vrædyn was beginning to announce the entertainment being offered by Gens Vlahos from his place in the royal box. It was too far to see the expression being borne by the Solar Sovereign, but after the twists and turns of the evening thus far, he'd have been surprised if even she could remain stony-faced and stoic.

Arching a brow at the invitation, Arvælyn absently reached up to gently graze his throat with his fingertips. The collar-like chainlink ring of his Emblem surged with a silvery glow, and he felt a taut tether relaxing, as if to grant him a lede. Permission had been granted. Finn, too, would feel a sense in his Mark that accepting the Avialæ invitation would not perturb his recent divine patron. Something had changed between the Founders and Arcas, though neither of these mortals knew the specifics.

Arvælyn glanced to the veiled sentinels still attending him, then back to Dæmon, shaking his head.

"That won't be necessary." The sort of duplicity that would call for them to bring a guard was simply not in Talon's nature. It didn't take a Grandmaster Mesmer to recognise that much. "I will take you at your word." A few of the attending Sentinels seemed to tense at the obliging response of their charge, but they took no further action.

With Dæmon departing, he turned his attention to Finn.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to sleep on the offer. I am really bloody tired and if he's no rush, I'd just as well put it off a day or two. It seems a heady choice has been placed before us, and I would not rush to render it... Least of all whilst my brain and body are so weary." He cracked a smile, "I'd offer to fly us out, but I still don't know how to work these bloody things yet..." He sniggered at his own expense, whilst glancing over his shoulder to regard the wing folded behind it. Such as things were, he stepped over to the Sentinel indicated by his mother. He expected Finn would soon know the way well enough to get them to their new home, but for now perhaps it was better to rely on a more seasoned Solunarian.

[Finn]

"Thank you," he said, offering Dæmon a bow before he departed.

Then, to Arvælyn, as they continued on, "I wonder if he will hear us every time his name comes up. Do you think he will appear if that happens or can he read intention? Do you think he's listening to us right now...?"

Finn tried to amuse Arvælyn as they were led to their new home. In future, he would be able to open a portal to their new rooms from wherever they might go, but not yet.

*~*~*

A few days had passed. Things weren't settled, but they were beginning to. The Twins had prophesied great changes to come, and Dæmon assured them they would be bright. He would know, claiming Light as his own.

Finn had their new home memorized well enough he knew he could find its lines in the slipspace, and so whenever he and Arvælyn needed to return, Finn need but open them a portal. But to get to Dæmon, they would need help. Fortunately, the Draegir had promised to escort them personally.

Still unused to the physical changes in his amatus, Finn's eyes caressed him as he came into the sitting room. It was here the Dragon Prince could receive visitors, and it seemed a decent place to call Dæmon to them. Better than their bedroom, anyway. Arvælyn was framed by décor that was literally palatial, and Finn hadn't even had time to get used to their first shared domicile in Kalzasi. All the same, Arvælyn was here and that made it home. He stood and bowed low, low, and lower still.

"Your Exalted Highness," he greeted with an impish smile. "I'm ready when you are, but it's your palace, so I suppose you should say the word and invite Dæmon to us." Whether they would take him up on the offer to visit his home, entertain him here, or go elsewhere, Finn would leave it up to the elf crowned in horns.

[Talon]

D A E M O N

He opened his eyes and lifted his head from Aoren’s chest as he heard the speaking of his name in an earnest summons. A sleepy smile spread across his face as he recognized who was calling and for what reason.

“Something wrong?” Fingers threaded through his hair and he found himself leaning into the touch. He gave his husband a squeeze before angling his face so that he could kiss the base of Aoren’s neck.

“Finn and Arvaelyn are calling.” He began untangling himself from his partner’s body and sat up from the wide sofa by the pool at their Cathenian villa. He reached for his clothes, dressing himself in short order before turning to kiss Aoren on the brow. The dragon made a content rumble, bringing up one hand to slide over his arm.

“Don’t be gone too long.” Chuckling, he shook his head in amusement. He could already sense what Aoren wanted, not that he minded. They both deserved this time away from the chaos of the world. Turning to face the direction of Solunarium, he extended his senses into the aether and aligned the path to Finn and Arvaelyn. He stepped forward and from one moment to the next, he was standing in the room where the two were residing. He was in the middle of stretching his arms and had to stifle a yawn as he appeared to them mid-stride.

“Your Exalted Highness. Finn.” He greeted them both with a relaxed smile and a nod. “I see you are well rested.”

Glancing around the room he was impressed at the literally palatial appearance of the place. Having never been inside one of the royal domiciles of Solunarium, he was not disappointed. Then again, with how important grandeur and majesty were to the royals of the kingdom, it should not have been surprising to behold such luxury. He would never call the Palace of the First Wind humble, it was not, but the decoration of his family’s home seemed conservative by comparison.

“Are you still settled upon receiving a blessing, Finn? And you, Highness? Have you decided?” Daemon gestured to the room around them. “I take it that I am permitted to be here?”