Legend of Ransera

Noctis Æterna
9th of Searing, Year 123 of Steel

A laugh echoed high and lilting through the subterranean borough, accompanied by the syncopated beat of four pairs of feet.

Before they had quit the banquet, Kaus had insisted they take a shot of something clean and pure, something to tip them over from careful, polite sips of wine to the intoxication to come. While Asallon had chosen to remain with Kala, Ceran and Indric chose to join the dux and the young lord in their revels. While they meant to guard Kaus, he meant for them to have fun. After all, they were being monitored by Silver Sentinels in their armor and their veils. If not for them, they might have flown, these winged sons of the Synnekar.

"The Vigilia listens, but surely you don't have anything to ask that would embarrass you in front of Phocion Princeps," Kaus was saying. High spots of color bepainted his cheeks. Raithen made him laugh. For all their honor guard, Solunarium made him feel free.

"In any case, I will certainly ask questions that make me look a proper rube. Is this..." He paused as they came upon what appeared to be an upscale establishment with glitteratti queuing up to enter. The guards at the doors shone in burnished armor, and began to clear the way for the well-known and well-loved prince. "Oh," he laughed. "This must be the place. And they treat you like the prince of parties."

Kaus laughed again, in high, good humor. They were locked together by their elbows, easier for two winged men to walk side by side that way. They were in step, and Kaus was already enjoying himself, even as he anticipated diversions beyond imagining.

"I hope we don't slow you down."

He glanced behind, and saw the Silver Wings wide-eyed. He laughed again. Someday, they would get used to the rarefied air they flew in when they flew with the Leukos twins.

Ceran and Indric didn't mind being the third and fourth wheel; they had each other, and following Raithen into the difficult-to-reach parts of the underground caverns offered them awesome vistas and memories to take home with them.

Kaus laughed. "In Kalzasi, I am Lord Kaus. Here I am just a dux's hanger-on. The latter ought to be more fun than the former. In Starfall, we were able to be ourselves. In Kalzasi, we have to be the face of our House." Perhaps that was why he spent an inordinate amount of time personally testing the balance of Torin's weapons, or sparring with Timon. Kala didn't exactly enjoy playing perfect lady of House Leukos, but she was better at it than he was.

"And Aquilios... well, he was a prat when we were younger, but I think it was the pressure of being the heir, and our father died early, our mother's health suffered for a multiple birth. He took things out on us because it was easy. Well, Kala fought back before I did. Once I knocked him on his arse in the training salle, things started to change. His burdens are heavier, but now he laughs with me more often than not. Anyway, he's going to be a father soon, so..." He laughed and shook his head. Aquilios was going through very normal milestones in life while Kaus attended to their divine sister. To each their own, but it was strange how quickly the strange became commonplace.

Kaus laughed as he was pulled into the booth. Ceran and Indric slid into the other side, offering their betters a bit of space. Ceran put his arm around Indric's shoulders in what could only be called a territorial move, but Kaus knew it was as much for his own benefit as anything else. The young mercenaries - who were his own age - hadn't experienced anything like most of the things they had experienced in service to House Leukos. But they had each other and the Sentinels moving like shadows through the building, so he knew they were all right.

The winged lordling settled so his wings weren't crushed.

"I wouldn't be trusted to defend Starfall and Kalzasi if I was afraid of a dance floor, Your Festive Highness! Our blade masters were also our dance instructors, though... Kala is the true artist. My dancing ended up being more of the sort with blades, and I became a poet while she pursued the art of dance. That said, please don't ask for extemporaneous poetry!"

"Runeforged wine?" Kaus asked, wide-eyed. Indric looked worried; Ceran nervous. "We have alchemically-enhanced intoxicants, to be sure, but I haven't come across runeforged wine." He turned toward the Silver Wings. "Men. When we return to Kalzasi, Ser Torin must be informed of this." Ceran nodded as Kaus turned his attention back to Raithen. "My mother's vassal is a masterful runesmith."

Not only was he excited by the prospect of trying the stuff, but Torin would be able to make a lot of money if he mastered that particular trick. And while intoxicants were fun, he might also be able to fortify drinks with magic to, say, allow people to carry a small flask whose properties would keep them warm and sustained in the winters of the Astralar range, and such. It might help prevent famine, as well.

In any case, Raithen ordered them a variety, so they would have options.

"Age does have some advantages," Kaus agreed seriously, although it might have been funny for the young man less than a week before his twenty-first nameday. But he didn't opine on Raithen's family; he didn't know them well enough, nor Re'hyaen filial customs, and he hadn't been asked. "Anyway, Starfall isn't near Kalzasi proper; it's up in the Astralar Mountains. We are sort of happy being remote and secretive, which is probably why our ancestors swore to Great House Briathos, who loves its mysteries and mystique as well. But yes, Aquilios got married and they are expecting their first child, Gods willing. Childbirth is difficult for Avialae. That is why women have the prerogative of choosing partners. But we are polygamous and polyandrous and often polyphilic. That said...it seems we are less progressive about bastardy than your people are. As a whole, I mean. The Synnekar aren't a hegemonic bloc by any means."

In excitement, he put his hand on Raithen's forearm.

"Oh, dancing... yes, of course... but also... someday when we aren't intoxicated, you will have to join us out at the Citadel. The thermals are amazing off of the desert, and we can show you how we sky dance in Karnor!" For a man with eyes pale as ice, the sparkled with a ready warmth.

"Most Avialae are larger than their mother's race," he explained. "Ofttimes significantly larger, so it can be difficult for the mother." He made a gesture denoting a large head and a small vagina. At least, that was how he understood it. "I'm considered a runt, actually. My elder brother has seven inches of height on me. And Kala's wings didn't make her grow any. So we are both runts." He laughed. At least his sister had godhead on her side.

"Perhaps that will be a good thing for me... that is... if I ever sire children." He smiled, flushed, and shrugged.

"Not tomorrow," he agreed, and then his eyes narrowed on the local delicacy. He accepted the proffered cup with murmured thanks, and Ceran took the bottle with louder gratitude. He poured Indric and himself half as much as the lords had in their cups.

"We will try it it, but we don't want to embarrass our Lord and Lady." Indric nodded his agreement. Then all four Avialae shared a toast and an exploratory - at least for the Synnekar - sip.

"Oh," Indric murmured. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. "Yes, we ought to be careful so Kaus doesn't have to be."

Ceran giggled. It was strange coming from a man who was taller than Raithen and Kaus even seated. Kaus laughed and Ceran blushed.

"It's okay, love," Indric said, the rest inaudible as he pulled Ceran in for a kiss and what was likely sweet nothings whispered into his ear.

"All right. You have our libations beat," Kaus allowed magnanimously. "You will just have to visit so I can show you how impervious you are to cold and how wild are the winds of the Astralars." The lordling glanced at his "bodyguards," then to Raithen. "Well..." He leaned in and kissed his jaw. "So you don't feel left out."

Kaus was all smiles tonight. Here, Ceran and Indric stood out for their size, while he and Raithen were the norm. If Kaus didn't have Raithen's elven ears, he was closer to the platinum ideal, at least in coloration. He hummed against Raithen's skin, a little sound reverberating through bone. A part of him was trying to remember to talk about how cold the air could get in the desert if one merely flew higher, but the wine made him want to focus on sensual things. He didn't suppose this was the sort of diplomacy Kala intended in Solunarium, but it seemed to be going all right.

Ceran and Indric didn't follow them to the dance floor, perhaps affording them a bit of privacy, such as it was in a public space. They cuddled, sipping wine, and watched—at least, they kept glancing at them from time to time.

Only time would tell Raithen if Kaus' stories were entirely true, but if Kala was the better dancer, he at least knew what he was doing. The swordmasters of Starfall, lacking in renown though they might be, also taught their pupils how to dance. There were martial dances with blades, and there were dances to celebrate harvests. These were dances meant for touching, for exploring, and often for lust. Perhaps it was the bonds that protected him somewhat from Mesmer, but Kaus let the music and the magical liquor do their work.

The younger Avialæ picked up the steps to the third dance well enough; good teacher, good student.

Kaus looked over his shoulder at the golden one, a smile radiant upon his face. His hands fell over Raithen's on his hips and they were ice cold. One trailed up Raithen's arm, his neck, and nudged his jaw toward the ceiling. From above, snow began to fall from a sparkling mist. There was a thrill of alarm through the dancers, but some recognized it for what it was and the Mesmers did their work, cleaning up after the foreign elementalist.

"Tibi," he said carefully, "ego do nivis."