Legend of Ransera

It suited Rhydian's peculiarities to return to court on the first day of a season. There was a comfort in having left on the first of Glade and to return on the first of Searing. It felt like a sort of symmetry to Rhydian's reckoning and, though the trip had been far too long for his comfort, the inconveniences and confoundments felt like distant memories now that he was back in the familiar environs of home. He would need to return to Aerion soon to check in with his family, but His Majesty took priority in all things and so his first stop now that he was back in Sol'Valen was the palace.

The household staff was prepared to receive him and to see his personal effects unpacked and stowed in their rightful places. He was no guest at the palace, so he needn't wait in some sitting room decorated with artefacts from remote antiquity. He was able to wait in his own sitting room with his own artefacts from remote antiquity until such time as the king was ready to receive him. He liked to think he didn't have to wait so long as a foreign dignitary or a provincial official. Surely Ailuin was eager to see him in the flesh, though they'd met upon the concourse of dreams throughout Rhydian's time abroad.

By the time he was received, Rhydian had doffed his travelling clothes in favour of flowing robes. He'd bathed and had accelerated the drying of his crimson hair via the Craft of Kinetics. After that, he lounged and read until he was called upon, at which point he leapt up and walked apace. Those who knew him might note a slight bounce to his gait and his mild expression was worn with slighly wider eyes, bespeaking the excitement brimming beneath the placid lake of Rhydian's features.

Despite of the intimate audience, Rhydian bowed with all due formality owed by one of his station to one of Ailuin's anointed state. Gentle eyes were lowered in respect of the king's office and his cherished person. He felt the servant brush by and heard her steps recede, as Ailuin's silent steps drew the monarch ever closer.

His breath caught- not quite a gasp as Ailuin's mouth truncated it before it was fully realised, and Rhydian's weight shifted to one foot as he swooned into the kiss from the king. Here, in the tactile clarity of the waking world, he lingered in this semblance of a dream for as long as his liege allowed. When their lips parted, the prince was flush-faced and uncharacteristically unbalanced as he quickly nodded and moved to the tea tray.

"Your Majesty." He acknowledged the monosyllabic command as he fell easily into his former role, in which they became acquainted, and served Ailuin. He smile faintly as the king spoke, though his hand quivered a bit clinking the cup against its saucer a bit awkwardly as he placed it down in front of the sovereign of Sol'Valen as he spoke coveted words of desire to be sated in the near future.

"Of course, Majesty... I mostly maintained the outlined itinerary, though I lingered longer in Zaichaer than initially intended upon finding their hospitality more gracious than anticipated. I made up that time in transit, but regardless my trip, of course, began in Kalzasi where I was able to connect with Lord Val'Istra.

"He spoke of the hardships still being faced by Kalzasi as a result of the Eclipse, but his personal enclave- shared with a neighbour with whom he seemed rather taken- was well warded and rather like a piece of Sol'Valen transported abroad. Much of the focus of his report centred around tensions with Zaichaer and the potential for foreign elements to exploit their post-apocalyptic, to borrow the Kathar term, 'Zeitgeist'."

"Correct." Rhydian smiled, impressed if not surprised that Ailuin already knew the name of the neighbour. "Sivan is, as 'twas explained to me, the son of Val'Istra's comrade, but their kinship seemed quite close and their lives intertwined. He painted an intriguing picture of a youth who left your demesne as apprentice to Tavári'nar Val'Gwairil during his twilight days. After that, he was taken under the tutelage of a Master Jacun in Kalzasi... a dragon, as it turned out. I met Sivan and found him rather unassuming, despite of the lofty interest he has incurred wherever he treads...

"While I found him to be a thoughtful host and a mage of some potential, I will freely admit that I do not know what made him remarkable in the eyes of his pedagogues. I lack their years and areas of focus, but I do believe it worth remarking upon that it seems to follow him." He paused to sip his tea,

"As to the matter of Zaichaer, all in all, yes. My comprehension of the High City brought low was flawed before visiting. Much has been made of their xenophobia and, particularly, their rhabdophobia, but it is a land of contradictions. Despite their apparent fear and disapproval of magic, one of their most powerful figures is a mage and bore the features of a half-elf, albeit with surgical alterations to the telltale ears.

"Laurevere spoke of concern about commonalities with the Atraxian apostates, which seemed absurd, at first... Solunarium seems like the very bogeyman they see in Kalzasi, after all. However, having visited Zaichaer I now see the cause of his concern. Their ethics are, and perhaps always have been, deeply compromised. They exploit too much of what they claim to hate and give it a pass when it serves them.

"With their palpable human supremacist bent, it would be difficult to envision an outright public alliance with the Atraxians, but they are now openly integrating the witch covens, which would have been unthinkable before the Breach. I think they are a land in flux, ripe for exploitation in the midst of their restoration, and we should keep a watchful eye on their progress."

"Of course, my liege..." Rhydian lowered his head, as if accepting chastisement for applying unneeded qualifiers to his description of Sivan. Chastisement was, indeed, what it felt like and it brought greater flush to his cheeks than did the tea and company.

"I would be glad to make the introductions, if it please Your Majesty." As to the matter of Zaichaer, Rhydian nodded.

"They could certainly benefit from our guidance and, failing that, we could benefit from surveilling them more closely. Laurevere seemed to imply a Solunarian influence might already be present influencing the realm. They've been isolated... or at least ostensibly so, for so long prior to recent years, that I've no idea what such an incursion would look like, but again I defer to those of greater years with sharper focus upon such matters as these." Rhydian had not often been placed in the role of a diplomat and, having been raised a Val'Kor, he doubted his acumen in the art. He was often self-deprecating in Ailuin's presence, but today more than usual, between the unpractised role and the time away.

Still, he was met with encouragement and his tense shoulders relaxed down as his eyes danced up, smiling though his lips were parted more in an expression of surprise at Ailuin's aggressive flirtation.

"I would brook those fetters happily, if it please Your Majesty, but of course you are correct. I shall take my leave of court on the morrow to grace Aerion, but briefly. If mine absence pricks at thee it is, for me, a torment for I am but a moon and you, a galaxy.... my boundless empire."

His brow lifted, pleasantly surprised by the priorities espoused.

“Very well.” Rhydian inclined his head in acknowledgement of the task to come. He would be pleased to execute it. Laurevere intrigued him and Laurevere’s investment in Sivan made the younger elf intriguing as well. Not just Laurevere’s investment, of course, but the interest of several notable figures. Perhaps he saw kinship with Sivan in this, for he understood Ailuin’s investment in him with no greater authority.

As only silence answered his elaboration upon the Zaichaeri matter and Ailuin’s expression shifted markedly, he inferred that the time for formal briefings had come to its cessation, at least for the moment.

A small smile demanded itself into curling his lips as his eyes danced down to the waning tea in his cup. He brought it to his lips for the coup de grace and reached for the pot.

“Would you care for another cup?” His hand hovered above the handle without closing around it. It didn’t take a dreamwalker to know where Rhydian’s fantasies were heading in the span of that hesitation. They had loved in the dreamscape lately, where things were more extreme, but also more ephemeral. It felt real… more than real in the moment, but once it passed one realised what it lacked. It was difficult to describe like all dreams and to attempt a description was bootless, if not vexing to the listener. And there was no need to speak on such things with this king, and so silence and offered tea would serve to display that he was ready and willing to serve his liege in more ways than tea service.