"Tides of Fire"
5 Searing 124
Arvælyn had certainly been busy since coming to Solunarium. First it was the training and the learning. Then, when he took on the mantle of his birthright, he found himself ruling a realm as regent. Still learning the ways of both the culture and the basics of governance, he'd relied heavily upon his advisors. He was more likely to advise and consent to their proposals, rather than put forth any of his own. His regency was multiple choice, not open ended. He was given options and context and chose what seemed like the best option. But by Searing of 124 Steel he had long since learned the basics, and now he was learning more not just about governance, but about who and what he really was. He'd been tolerant, if not content, to wait for his cryptic paternal family to bring him more into their ancient and estimable fold and, slowly but surely, it had begun to happen. He was spending more and more of his time in the Thalamum Draconum when he wasn't about his work in the Palatium Umbrarum. 5 Searing 124
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He was seeing less of Finn since their marriage, but Finn was busy, too. His consort wasn't constantly luxuriating in the thermæ, nor exploiting the royal exchequer on shopping sprees as others in his position might have done. He worked long, strange hours for Phocion, he had his family in the Luxium, he had a demanding deity who expected ambitions to be pursued, and Finn was pursuing them. Their lives were increasingly independent, albeit bound by history, oaths, magic and affection.
On the 5th of Searing of the 124th Year of the Age of Steel, Arvælyn quit his father's palace to realise that morning had already broken over the Luxium. It was hard enough to tell night from day in the Umbrium, but at least efforts were made there to shift the level of light emitting from the glowing globes and strips that lined the streets. The Thalamum Draconum accorded no such amenities, for its inhabitants were less concerned with rising and falling of sun and moon. What was a day in the life of a Greatwyrm?
He hadn't slept, but he wasn't tired. It was earlier than he typically began his day of toil and there were no calamities being broadcast into his mind by his mother, so he supposed he wasn't needed. Perhaps all he needed to do to find free time again was never to sleep.
Arvælyn took to wing over the core of Mount Sorokyn, where the buoyancy of its heat urged him upwards. Up he flew out of the mouth of the volcano to regard the upper city bathed in shades of red as the sun rose toward the cloudless sky. He was so unaccustomed to unscheduled time... to unanticipated moments to himself that, for a trice, he didn't know what to do with himself. Then he realised he should check on Finn. He knew his husband occasioned to sleep at the Luxian villa in which he'd housed his family when they didn't share a bed, which increasingly meant one of them collapsing into a cuddle with their already sleeping counterpart. In any case, he darted down toward the Aurecine District, sensing the attention of the diligent Luxian authorities, but he soothed their concerns with familiarity and alighted on the steps leading up to the door to the Sorokys villa. He started to reach for the handle, then grimaced at the realisation that he was a guest here. He'd never visited this place since he called it home and himself Kyrin's bastard. He raised his hand a bit higher to employ the doorknocker, then crossed his arms to await admittance.
