#seraph being an icy king

[kingofangst]

Season 1 Teen Wolf character opinions on Seraph (My OC)

*Seraph posing as an interviewer and inhibiting his scent for supernatural purposes*

Okay, let us start with the process, shall we? What are your thoughts on Beacon Hills High's enigmatic ice king?

Scott: I don't think he's an icy person by default. He looks closed off, but he seems cool. Very intelligent though

Allison: Lydia says he's her rival? But I'm pretty sure there's more to him than looks

Stiles: Entitled, conceited, rich guy with his dark academia and bourgeoisie attitude. Literally, who names their child Seraph?

Seraph: *Lowkey bombastic side eye*

Lydia: My academic rival, though I respect his tenacity and intelligence

Seraph: *Secretly smirking*

Jackson: Why are you so interested? Asshole and an entitled tool who thinks Hondas are better than Porsche😑

Seraph: (Internally) They are, lacrosse fanatic

Isaac (in my fanfic he is in season 1): Ex-loyal friend and confidant. Until he thought he was better than me😒

Seraph: (Internally sighs with melancholy)

Danny: I have no problems with him. He's an enigma and I think people should respect his choices

Mr. Harris: One of my favorite students. In fact, him and Jackson are the top two.

Seraph: (Internally) Careful Harris, you start a war amongst your students. Then again why would you care?

Coach Finstock: If I could only teach one student for the next 4 years, it'd be Seraph

Seraph: (Internally) That’s horrific👀

Melissa: He doesn't look like an icy teenager to me. More like academically ambitious

Sheriff Stilinski: Hard to say he's an enigmatic ice king or whatever you called him when his father is Beacon Hills best politician. He seems nice

This concludes the interview of what is said about Seraph Kingfisher. Thank you all for your participation.

Jackson: What? Now you are going to tell him what we said about him?

Seraph the Interviewer: No that is confidential and I won't share it to anyone. *Internally* Because I already heard, moron.

And that's all folks! As for why the Hales and the Argents weren't in this is because Seraph has yet to meet them. But stay tuned for chapter 4 of TWOAE, I will be posting it Saturday.

[reginrokkr]

Gentle endearment is received with laughter-like huff that is released from his nostrils before his head dips once in agreement. Yes, it will be better to get out from the water before their skin starts to wrinkle. They have idled sufficiently here. Earnest love makes astral pupils to quiver slowly within icy sapphire depths as he takes the time to admire his beloved's bare body as he leaves the bathroom, to collect clothes for them, he presumes.

And minutes later prove him right when Dáinsleif sees the silver haired return with two sets of clothes for them. ❝Wearing it for so long feels like a second skin of mine.❞ He reminds al-Háitham gently, for deep down he doesn't wish to trouble him. Just as wearing it feels like a curse, but the fallen seraph has forsaken this thought long ago. It is one of the fewest things that give him agency, a sense of self. A reminder of what he used to be, a wish to remain that way to the best of his ability. He cannot fail in that, too—

Dáinsleif waits patiently for al-Háitham to get dressed too before heading to the bedroom. The king-sized bed looks so big and inviting, he has almost forgotten what it feels like to live in such luxury and comfort, being accustomed to stay in the wilderness the most even if he has financial freedom to sleep anywhere he pleases. He finds it more convenient to sleep in the out sometimes, rather than going his way out to find somewhere else at the detriment of his energy depletion.

High as his desire may be to lay on bed once and for all, the luminary waits for the scholar to pick a side even if he remembers that he tends to choose the left one— out of respect for accommodating him despite his long absences. Dáinsleif sits on the right side of the bed and lays on its comfort, roseate lips part to heave a sigh in content at the plush of the mattress and the pillow.

Quiescence makes itself present betwixt them as he turns on his side to meet al-Háitham's beautiful emerald eyes. His arm stretches to reach out his hand to push away strands of gradient silvers away from his face, long digits linger on the warmth of his face via nomad finger pads that seek to caress him gently, such a foreign notion coming from the ugliness of the hand that makes him a monster. Silence stretches some more, until Dáinsleif breaks it with a confession. ❝I saw Halfdan.❞

Another pregnant silence follows, this time it weighs with the unsaid and understood, he knows al-Háitham can imagine the reason due to being well-informed on the matter— he tried to help him escape the curse once upon a time, after all. ❝It was not the way I expected it to be... but he recognized me, too. Even if he no longer was human... he did. He was there, in the depths of the Chasm, protecting hilichurls from trespassers who dared to disrupt their peace.❞

The gentle, amorous touch calls for al-Háitham's attention. Attention he gives, emerald eyes softening instantly at the sight of his beloved after several minutes of silence to recall times of hardship, but good times nonetheless in which they met and began a story of life-long companionship in many forms— culminating in a love that lasted for centuries and that will many more from now on.

Unlike the man he met in Khaenri'ah, he is more exhausted and wary from experiencing too much— likely more than some long-living creatures. Moonlit skin captures the true night sky on his right arm now, a trail on the right part of his face and a gradient on his right leg dotted with stars. What a cruel joke it must be, to be abandoned in the most terrifying darkness. But light will never flicker, it is as strong within him as the first day he had met him. Its intensity varies depending on his mood, but it's still there. That is comforting to him.

A silver brow cocks upwards in garnered curiosity at the mention that a chance to live a leisurely life looms over them in this moment. He who didn't have the heart to ask before what brings him to Sumeru this time is now presented with a strong reason to be here. To rest, after what he assumes to be an undesirable event that affected his health.

His brows knit in a fleeting frown as he wonders what must've happened, he needn't rush for now. All things come and sooner or later it will come the time when Dáinsleif will tell him. There is no need to push him to do so, as there is none in his end to make him speak his worries. It all comes naturally between them since a very long time. "I will take your word on that." He trusts that if it were something serious, Dáinsleif would tell him.

A small smirk poses on his lips at his poor attempt at joking that he may not have him here. Specially considering how long it has been since the last time they could take it easy together for an extended amount of time. One nudge of his forehead is given to his beloved's temple, then his arms uncoil from him. "You will take nothing from wrinkling like a paper in the hammam. Let's dry ourselves and take a nap." A nap with him after so long sounds like a gift offered from the heaven, joining two things he enjoys deeply: to sleep and Dáinsleif.

Al-Háitham rouses on his feet from the marble where he sat and extends a hand to help the blond up, his hand persists in its hold until the two of them step away from the warm water. The chill that comes rises the hairs of his nape, but he doesn't let it last too long. That is why he walks towards a set of towels prepared beforehand to hand Dáinsleif one so he can towel dry himself. Unbothered to dress right away in his streetwear does al-Háitham go to his room to get comfortable clothes to be in as they are at home while he returns, his free hand in motion to dry his hair now that his bare body is pretty much dried. "Take them. They will be better than your tight Twilight Sword garment." Specially if they are to sleep. He can go as loose in his clothes choice as he wills, away from undesirable guests.

[valacre]

𝔅𝔢𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔒𝔣 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫

You remembered the day you saw him, the way your heart had stopped and how your breath halted within your chest. An unmistakable sight that had been so beautiful, tears had sprung to your eyes as you’d stared; mesmerized.

Nightmare, self proclaimed King over the multiverse, was the most divine, exquisite, and terribly formidable being you had ever seen. The raw beauty of him as he’d pinned you to the ground with just a mere glance in your general direction.

The moonlight framed him, icy, and cold light illuminating his blackened form and casting a seraphic glow; making him truly appear as the God he claimed to be. Tentacles curled and swung in lazy, bored gestures, displaying a clear sense of calm and authority. And that one, piercing eyelight which reflected the chill of the moon, held you in its grasp.

He spoke to you in a voice so clear, so ethereally saccharine and deep, it reverberated through you and made your knees buckle, and yet you did not fall… until he smiled, and all sense of life and willpower escaped you as the ground met with your back.

You’d give your soul to him. You’d do everything just for another minute to admire him; to take him in and burn his visage into your memory.

You’d gladly give up all of heaven, just for another chance to have him in your tiny, human existence.

♡+｡.｡+♡+｡.｡+♡

Thank you for inspiring me with your latest Nightmare post, @abbyflowertale. My brain has succumbed to the divine vision of Nightmare appearing as a deity like creature, otherworldly beautiful, and terribly dangerous.

[dragonladdie]

Xeno-Hiraeth

Warning: The following document delves into topics such as (systemic)racism, classism, colonization, (implied)genocide, and slavery. This is not to promote, justify, humanize, or normalize these things in any way, shape or form, and, quite frankly, the opposite of the story's initial message.

The author does NOT approve of such things. If you think any of the above is justifiable in ANY manner, you can leave right now, thanks.

Lore

Xeno-Hiraeth was the first ever planet made by the Seraphs, a race of divine entities with the power to create entire galaxies with the simple flick of their wrist.

There are four sapient species on this ancient planet: The proud dragons, the reclusive lungs, the gentle sphinxes, and finally, the mageia, the first Beings, and made in the Seraph's image.

Not only is Xeno-Hiraeth the first world, it is by far the largest. It is infinitely larger than our Earth, and far more magical. It's teeming with wild magic and a myriad of magical and strange creatures. At its center is Cor Meum, seven continents surrounding the Heartland. The Heartland holds the Capitol, where the Queen resides.

As previously said, there are four sapient species of Xeno-Hiraeth. You would believe the mageia would rule the world, as they were the first Beings, and are made in the Seraph's image. You would be correct, but, millions of years ago, when all but one Seraph suddenly vanished from the cosmos, the mageia fell into chaos.

The mageia waged war on each other, dragging the other three races with them. This started the Cold Age. After thousands of years of distrust, chaos, and all-out war, the remaining Seraph could no longer speak to their people.

They ended up turning the world over to the dragons and lungs, giving them a secret gift that allowed them to reunite the world again. They were supposed to rule the land together in order to retain at least some form of unity. But, another thousand years later, after high tensions, the dragons and lungs turned on each other. The lungs ended up breaking from the dragons and went into hiding, making dragons the singular dominant species of Xeno-Hiraeth.

Sphinxes are a somewhat independent species, and try not to get involved with the other three species' affairs. They normally exist in one of twelve clans, but few unlucky sphinxes live their lives as personal servants and slaves to dragon nobility, and are treated as wealth statuses rather than individuals.

Geography of Notable Landmasses

Heartland

The Heartland is the central continent of Cor Meum. A vast valley surrounded by mountains, and at its center is the Capitol, the largest metropolis in the world. The Capitol is mostly inhabited by dragons, and is also where a good 60% of dragons in Xeno-Hiraeth live. The Heartstone Palace is both the tallest and largest built structure in Cor Meum as well, and it's tallest tower can be seen from miles in any direction. The Heartstone Palace is the home of the Queen and their family.

Makatu Valley

The continent just North of Heartland is a combination of floating isles and mountains. It's the home of the longmas' kingdom, Sahar. Mistiko, the capital city for Sahar is located between one of the two largest mountains on Cor Meum, known as the Twin Peaks. Instead of sitting at the foot of the two mountains, the city actually stands on the top of a huge floating aisle, just above their peaks. It's only accessible by airships and flying.

Rama Forests

The continent of Rama sits upon a rich iron mine that stretches down and out for miles. Even though they have a seemingly infinite amount of it, every scrap of metal is treated graciously, and no amount is wasted. On the surface are lush forests on the foot of a small mountain range. The capital city, Stonehill, sits on the base of said mountain range.

Taiao

The continent of Taiao is a combination of forest and open plain, perfect for the diverse population of Alam. Taiao has bountiful lands to raise crops, and thus there are countless farming villages across the continent. The "capital" of Alam is called the Thicket, which is a town surrounding a huge tree. Inside the tree is the High Sage and their council, made up of all sorts of backgrounds.

Vjetar Plateau

The Vjetar plateau is located at the furthest Northeast point in Cor Meum. The only way up is by flying, airships, or making your way up Zephyr's Road, a dangerous foot trail filled with predators and rogues. Atop the plateau is a flat, lush steppe occasionally dotted with rich forests. There is a small patch of frigid mountains to the north, and the west drops off into the sea. The soil is adequate for the nation's agricultural needs, and produce farms are the majority of what you will find when exploring the land. The capital city of Gisa stands in the middle of a windy meadow.

The Sear

The Sear is a scorching desert to the West of Cor Meum. The farther center you go, the hotter the sun beats, and the taller the sand dunes stand. But, smack in the middle of the desert, springs the Blessing Oasis. It's the largest oasis in the Sear, and most of the qilin population lives here.

The Wai Peninsula

The Wai peninsula is home to Ngaru, the native kingdom of the kelpies. To the Northern entrance to the peninsula are swamps, marshes, bogs, and mangroves. Then, there's the Iridescent Jungle. Though it's a gorgeous sight to behold, it's filled with dangerous animals and man-eating plants. Then, once you finally make it out of the jungle, you are rewarded with a calm, tropical paradise. The capital city is located on the shore, along with the Summer Palace. But, during the winter and fall months, the royal family retreats to the Underwater Palace. A secret entrance on the surface is provided for non-kelpie visitors.

Kahore Mountains

Nihil, the native kingdom of the nix, is based underground and in the mountains of Kahore. The entirety of the continent is just mountains that stretch almost completely off the Eastern coast of Cor Meum. The capital city of Covert lays below the surface of Titan's Maw Summit, the largest mountain in the world.

Ledas

A combination of icy plain and taiga to the north of Cor Meum. It is mostly unexplored by the other Beings, and is occupied by the Fa and Noh sphinx clans.

The Barrier Mountains

Several oceanic mountain ranges that erupt from the water, and surround Cor Meum. There is presumably nothing past these mountains, only open ocean. However, all voyages that set out past these mountains never return. Rumor has it that beyond these mountains lies the secret home of the lungs.

Additional landmasses

Within the Barrier Mountains are several other small islands, whether they humbly sit on the water or float above it. None of them are big enough to be marked fully as continents, however, and most of them are colonized by dragon villages.

General Society

The Queen is a hereditary, gender-neutral title worn by the ruling dragon. It's passed on from parent to oldest child, but it's not unheard of for the crown to go to one of the Queen's spouses, siblings, or even a trusted Council member if either they believe their children aren't cut out for the job or die before they have any.

The King is the first spouse of the Queen(the King is also a gender-neutral title). The King acts as an advisor to the Queen as well as a companion, and is incredibly influential. Consorts hold no political power, but may hold certain influence as well, depending on their background/actions outside of the palace walls.

The current Queen is Nefriah, and her heir is her first son, Valo. She has one spouse, King Solan. Their other children are Naika, Naseem, Kasigo, and Vanja.

That being said, there are no gender roles in Xeno-Hiraeth! Gender identity and expression is something that is a personal preference, and is figured out during childhood(all children are referred to with they/them pronouns at first, unless they choose differently later on). Androgyny is the dominant gender expression, and no individual would be made fun of, judged, or barred from certain tasks/jobs for their gender identity and/or expression, or lack thereof.

While the Queen rules over both dragons and mageia(and to some extent, the sphinxes), it's the Omnis-Sovereign who carries out the laws to the mageia. The Omnis-Sovereign is typically a longma mageia who not only rules their own kingdom, but the other kingdoms as well. While all kingdoms have their individual leader or leaders, they all answer to the Omnis-Sovereign, and the Omnis-Sovereign answers to the Queen. The current Omnis-Sovereign is Jerome.

The Prophet is the religious leader of Cor Meum, and secondary advisor to the Queen. Their job(supposedly) is to make sure the will of the Seraph is followed. They also are responsible for keeping the Queen in check. They are hand-picked by the Queen themself, and serve until death. The current Prophet is Rek'yen.

The Queen's council consists of the King, Prophet, General, Treasurer, High Mage, Archive Keeper, Charter, and High Judge. King Solan currently doubles as the High Mage.

There is an unspoken racial hierarchy amongst the mageia, in order of preference of the dragons; the longmas, the re'em, the dryads, the perytons, the qilins, the kelpies, and then the nixes.

Disabilities are not usually an issue in Xeno-Hiraeth. Non-verbal and/or deaf beings are taught some form of sign language, or given a slate to write your thoughts down. Blind individuals are taught to use their other senses to make their way around, and/or given a guide(whether they be a Being or familiar), or a cane to feel around with as you step. For those with lost limbs, there's a number of different prosthetics to choose from, and there are special prosthetics for different jobs and activities(including wings!).

In regards to technology, think steampunk-esque. Tech such as robotic prosthetics, arcane-powered machines, airships, explosives, and simple firearms such as pistols, bayonets, and shotguns are craftable items.

Tharcanas are enchanted items, all with differing abilities. Some examples would be a piece of jewelry that immediately returns to the owner of it's ever stolen, a small orb that gives off light when needed, a flute that puts listeners to sleep, bracers that give the wearer super strength, etc.

Being Biology & Info

Dragons and Lungs

Dragons and Lungs have a rather… chaotic biology, to say the least. While they can't be classified into several distinct races, almost every dragon or lung family has something unique about their pedigree. For example, some families may be able to grow plant life on themselves, or breathe fire, or have insect-like wings, etc.

Curiously enough, some dragons and lungs have similar features, such as some dragons having manes down their topline, and lungs having small, vestigial wings.

No matter what their features are, dragons are the largest species, standing at around 7-8 ½ feet at the shoulder. They are typically scaled, with at least one pair of wings, and at least one horn.

Lungs, on the other hand, are only slightly taller than the average mageia, but have long, snake-like bodies. They have fur and/or scales, with a mane down their topline/around their head like a lion. They usually have at least one horn.

Mageia

Mageia are huge creatures(the average mageia is about 6 ½ feet at the shoulder) with a canine-like head filled with sharp teeth, front paws(or claws, or talons) back hooves(can be one toed or cloven) a horse-like mane, and a lionel tail.

The mageia have seven races, each with their own unique features:

Longma biology

Pure longmas are mageia who share a common ancestor who was half dragon. All Longmas have at least one horn and draconic wings.

Pure longmas always have:

draconic wings

at least one horn

Longmas can have:

scales somewhere other than the topline, wings, and tail

scales along their topline

serpentine tails

draconic fins

Additional info

Famously pompous and devoted to individualism, Longmas are proud, innovative, and fiercely passionate.

Traditionally classist, recent years have seen the ladder to success grow more accessible, but the line between nobility and commoners remains distinct and nearly impossible to cross.

Longmas consider themselves the ideal and dismiss other mageia as uncultured, barbaric entities.

The gap between Sahar's civilian classes is significant, with the nobility sitting comfortably at the top of the ladder. The Nobility are revered, or at the very least begrudgingly respected, by the lower classes. Their political significance is rivaled only by their implied wealth, which may or may not be as grand as an individual noble claims. Nobles are the only longmas who have surnames, portrayed by their House. While there is some wiggle room for wealthy commoners to rub shoulders with the elite, they are unlikely to be accepted as an equal.

Re'em biology

Re'em are readily identified by their horns, which range from the traditional single spiral to jagged monstrosities, sometimes made of gemstone and metal.

Pure re'em always have:

horn(s), typically on the head.

Pure re'em can have:

Horns made of minerals such as precious gemstones, metals, glass or rock

Gemstone/metal attributes

Additional info

The re'em of Lux are proud people, known for their prowess in battle. Thus, friendly sparring is a common pastime for young re'em, though older re'em enjoy the activity as well.

When a re'em dies, a replica of their horn is carved and shaped from the same gemstone/metal that their real horn was made from. Simply painting a clay sculpture is an alternative to those with simple keratin horns.

Although the re'em have a reputation in other kingdoms as being uneducated, simplistic brutes, intellectual prowess is lauded, and complex, strategy-based games are enjoyed in households.

A single back hoof stomp is a more "aggressive" greeting, and thus is conducted by soldiers and rowdy adolescents, the harder/louder the more impressive.

Dryad biology

A pureblooded dryad is identified by the plant or animal life that thrives from their body. Plant life usually goes through seasonal changes or stagnates at full bloom, but there are always anomalies. A depressed or sick dryad usually suffers from wilted, or even withered growth.

Pure Dryads always have:

plantlife (or plant-esque, such as coral, bark, rocks/minerals/gemstones, etc.) growing from their body

Dryads can have:

extra hair (such as an extended mane down their top line).

antlers.

gemstones.

bark or rock like texture on their body.

Additional info

When hunting and farming, no part of the plant or animal goes to waste. Anything one does not eat is made into jewelry, tools, or simply fertilizer for the next batch of crops.

Outsiders are welcomed, but watched carefully. The dryads of Alam are hospitable and friendly to all, but won't hesitate to give you the boot if you choose violence.

The native mageia of Taiao live in peace with the environment, never taking more than what they need. Wastefulness, in any capacity, is not tolerated. What you take from the land is a blessing, and should be treated as such.

The High Sage is the religious leader of Alam. They interpret signs seemingly sent by the Seraph themself, predict the success of the next year/harvest, and make sure traditions are followed, and outdated ones are updated. The Council are the political leaders, and do most of the paperwork, overseeing official events, recounting population, distributing resources, etc.

Peryton biology

All pureblooded perytons will have at least one set of wings. Feathered wings are the most common, but there are plenty of individuals who sport wings reminiscent of bats, and rarer still are the individuals who grow insect-like wings.

Pure perytons always have:

at least one set of wings(wings can be feathered, bat-like, or insect based)

Perytons can have:

feathering on the body.

feathers in place of a mane or tail.

more than one set of wings.

Additional info:

The perytons are proud, loyal, and cunning, and reside in a nation shrouded in mystery. While often misunderstood, they have a rich history and culture that defines them.

There is so much freestanding land in Vjetar that it is commonplace just to petition for a small plot to build on, and more often than not, it will be granted.

Most families in Sirocco are rather large, as couples generally have anywhere from three to seven children.

The Divine is the kingdom's spiritual leader, acting as the conduit through which the last Seraph makes their will known, while the clerics act as the kingdom's clergy and healers. While the Divine rarely leaves the Holy Temple of the Seraph, and never leaves the great city of Gisa, Clerics live all throughout the nation and assist where the Divine can not.

Qilin biology

The Qilin is immediately recognizable by the presence of body scales and antlers. This race is almost entirely resilient to heat.

Pure qilins always have:

at least one antler, though typically two.

scaling somewhere on their body.

Qilins can have:

antlers that resemble various different deeror antelope.

Additional info

Qilins of Hariq are hardy survivors, a family of mostly nomadic individuals joined together by their mutual love and respect for every member of the Sear.

Humble, accepting, and naive, these gentle mageia are trusting of others to a sometimes dangerous fault. Though they make up the smallest population, they are not to be trifled with: every member has received some form of combat training, and their desert home is a frightful place to wage war.

The traditional qilin would die for their virtues and the safety of another.

Deeply spiritual and fixated on being one with and coexisting with the world, the qilin ways are mystical and rooted in their religion.

Kelpie biology

Kelpies will always possess two forms that they are able to shift between: a land form for traversing terrain, and a water form that allows them to swim and breathe underwater. The aquatic half of a kelpie can be based on fish, cetaceans, octopi, seals, or any other marine creature.

Pure kelpies always have:

a land form.

a water form.

Kelpies can have (in both forms):

fins and scales.

a fishtail.

stingers, tentacles, barbels - anything that correlates to their aquatic animal(s) really.

bioluminescence.

Additional info

Kelpies are famously the most accepting of outsiders, and thus hybrids are not a rare sight in Ngaru.

They are skilled soldiers, fishers, and sailors, but extremely superstitious. Angering the last Seraph is said enough to damn you and your family for generations.

While they are accepting of outside races, they stay as distant as they possibly can from the other nations, and try not to get mixed up in their politics.

As a collective community, Ngaru generally works together to keep themselves in check to prevent interference from the dragons.

Nix biology

Though they lack the fantastical features of their counterparts, there is beauty in simplicity. Rare genetic mutations can give this race additional eyes or even visible auras.

Additional info

Since nixes lack any interesting features, they're seen as boring, tasteless individuals, which is far from the truth.

They're secretive and selective on who they let into the Underground, and fewer ever get to see the capitol city.

The nation is built on a sense of community, and secrets rarely stay hidden for long.

A lot of nixes travel the continents of Cor Meum in hopes of finding wealth elsewhere, and it isn't uncommon to find a travelling Nix merchant setting up shop in the streets in a completely different continent than their own.

Hybrids

Opinions on hybrids vary from kingdom to kingdom. In Sahar, Lux, Sirocco, and Nihil, hybrids are frowned upon or at the very least judged, but in Alam, Hariq, and Ngaru, it's not as much of a big deal. Still, most hybrids are vagabonds, finding their place elsewhere, outside the binary kingdoms.

There is a rumor floating around that off the shore of the Wai Peninsula is a floating isle that is a safe haven for hybrids and wayward beings of the like, conducted by a longma with strange abilities and a gun-slinging nix. They're referred to as the Devil's Duo. Urban legend says that they're a pair of adopted siblings who took control of a ship that once hauled kidnapped sphinxes to slavery. Now, they recruit runaways and misfits, looting and raiding unsuspecting ships, whether they be in the water or the air. This group of misfits is called the Vindicators. The Duo's true names are unknown to all but this group.

Sphinxes

The Sphinxes are felines about the size of an Earth horse, with wings and talons like birds. They naturally belong to one of twelve clans, and usually communicate in a series of both feline and bird-like sounds(such as, but not limited to: chirps, hisses, meowing, cawing, roars, etc). This language is referred to as Dimali colloquially amongst the Sphinxes.

The Sa Clan

The vast desert sand dunes are occupied by the Sa, the smallest of all the clans. The Sa sphinxes closely resemble sand cats, but with a more slim face. They have longer fur that sprouts between their toes to protect their feet from the hot surface sand. Sa culture surrounds on how precious water is, treating water wells as sacred locations. The Sa worship snake spirits, and have elaborate hunting rituals for the rare giant serpents of the Sear.

The Ri Clan

The Ri are a very reclusive clan, preferring to hide deep in their forests surrounded by ancient trees and spirits. They are typically much smaller than the average sphinx, and display dark colors with rich reds on their fur. They have small, "kitten-like" faces with mildly fluffy tails. The Ri are adept with magic, often hoarding their secrets from outsiders. It is said that they have a close connection with the lungs, which is where they derive their magical knowledge.

The Tas Clan

The Tas live in the tropical rainforests of the Wai peninsula. They're the most colorful and vibrant of the sphinxes, with an endless range of fur colors and patterns. Their wings are similar to cockatoos. These sphinxes have a special fondness for feather and fur dyes, and can produce every conceivable color(including UV reactive and glowing dyes).

The Fa Clan

They occupy Ledas, the snow covered isle to the north of Cor Meum. This clan is nomadic, wandering their large territory to hunt and sustain themselves. They're the only sphinxes that hunt whales, more specifically the ivory B'Eshuul whales. These sphinxes have long, white fur and are similar to Norwegian Forest cats. They are so similar physiologically to their slightly southern neighbors, the Noh, that they might be considered a subgroup of them.

The Noh Clan

To the southern part of the Ledas are the vast pine forests, the home of the Noh Clan. Like the Fa, they have long fur and resemble Norwegian Forest cats, only their fur is more darkly colored. Both are also large, tough, and cold-resistant. With dark colors, keen instincts, and incredible strength, they make excellent hunters and warriors.

The Wen Clan

The sphinxes of the Wen occupy an island southwest of Cor Meum dominated by ancient red trees and volcanic activity. While they tend to be more disconnected from the other clans, it's not entirely by choice. There are many rumors about the Wen that make even dragons fear them. From their close connection to volcanism, to the idea they are spirit possessed, or possibly immortal. Tall and graceful, the sphinxes of this clan bear pale fur and sleek, noble eyes. They also have unique feather arrangements and tufted ears, which adds to their exotic profile. They have a knack for creating delicate and beautifully crafted jewelry and adornments.

The Fen Clan

The Fen sphinxes occupy the coastal cliffs of the Vjetar plateau and the islands surrounding it. Characterized by their bright orange colorization, they are shipbuilders and explorers. Having mastered the art of navigation, they bring goods and news from distant islands that are untouched by any of the four Beings. Sphinxes of Fen have more narrow, elongated wings similar to seabirds. This clan has close ties to the Noc, who have provided star charts to them for generations.

The Noc Clan

The Noc are loosely based in the mountains around the continent, mostly nomadic and nocturnal. The sphinxes of this clan are very owl-like, with large eyes and wings built for stealth. They are known to be great astronomers. They are often traders of secrets and information.

The Pel Clan

The clan of Pel occupy a large swath of land between the Sear and Taiao. Tricksters at heart, they are fond of poisons, venoms, and weaving. Mythology for the Pel surrounds storms and lightning, and the most impressive thunderstorms can be found in their territory. Though they're tricksters at heart, their elixirs are mainly used for medicine crafting. They are excellent runners for their species as well, mastering the art of long distance travel.

The Ku Clan

The Ku Clan make their homes in the northernmost point in the Sear, and their territory is a mix between red canyons and pine forests. They tend towards a rusty red color in the canyons, but to the north their coat coloring is grey and ticked. The typical Ku home is an elaborate, carved out chamber in the canyon walls, often with multiple chambers. After many generations of the practice, masonry and stonework are common skills. The Ku territory is rich with salt deposits, which is mined and sold to generate some of the greatest wealth amongst all the sphinx clans of the continents.

The Mal Clan

The sphinxes of Mal inhabit the dense mangrove and marshes between Wai and Taiao. They're the largest clan next to the Fa and Noh, with short fur in different shades of brown, and large, webbed wings. These sphinxes have the unusual ability to breathe underwater, and have developed fins on their topline, webbed talons, and a fish-like tail. Even though they're big clunky, these fins make them surprisingly aerodynamic, making them some of the best fliers amongst the sphinxes. They worship fish and water serpent spirits, and have a deep connection to the winged snakes of the swamps called amphipteres.

The Lin Clan

A mysterious, secretive clan who dwells in perpetual darkness beneath the surface of Cor Meum. They are very much bat-like, with large, beady eyes, huge ears, and bat-like wings that have finger-like appendages at the top to help them grip the cave walls. Their patron spirit is the Iron Root Spirit, also called the Mirror Tree. On the surface, it looks like a normal tree, but its roots take form to grow another tree seemingly growing from the cavern ceiling. Stories say that it talks to all of those able to listen, and will sometimes bestow the iron legs of their ancestor, Diersha. Rumored to be extinct, the Lin Clan spends their days mining and crafting prosthetics, unbothered by the world above��� and blissfully ignorant of its current state.

Enslaved Sphinxes

Sphinxes that are owned by dragon nobility. Most are born into slavery, while others are clan sphinxes kidnapped by slave traders. Those who are born into slavery do not typically have any specific features to any one clan, but rather a cluster of hybrids of sick, selective "breeding" over generations. Many have grown accustomed to this life, and keep their heads low in order to survive. The existence of these slaves are exactly the reason why most sphinx clans keep far away from the other Beings.

[ketzwrites]

The Tale of the Warlock and his Shadowhunter

They say the Warlock was the most powerful sorcerer that ever walked on the face of the Earth. For centuries, people would come to him and he would grant their wishes, but for a price. Jewelry, gems, rare artifacts. Whatever was precious, whatever was as important as the wish requested. The Warlock would listen, take the payment, and then perform his magic. Crops would grow food even in the harshest of winters, children were born healthy despite all odds, monsters were slain by magic weapons. All and more.

Until he didn’t anymore. Most people who sought him would not come back. The few who did told a terrible tale. A curse had befallen the Warlock and his forest was now haunted by a Shadow. Anyone carrying riches was attacked and the air was sucked out of their bodies. The powerful Warlock had lost his magic and now he laid powerless in his mansion, a captive in his own house.

A hundred years passed and the land forgot about the Warlock. He was no more than a legend, a tale to tell the children. Nobody dared to venture into the haunted forest, least the demonic creature would find and kill them. Life was hard, but it was preferable to death.

But, to one young Hunter, not going into the forest meant death. He was the oldest of his siblings and he had to bring food into his house, or nobody would. Still, no matter how great of a hunter he was, one autumn, the young man couldn’t find game in the shallow parts of the forest. No animals on land or air, nothing he could kill with one of his arrows.

Distraught, the Hunter decided to risk it. He carried no jewelry, no gold, and no rare artifacts. The Shadow would not want him. With that in mind, the Hunter braved into the deep of the forest. He traveled for days until he first saw signs of animals, but night was about to fall.

Exhausted and hungry, the Hunter mounted his camp. That night, however, was not like the others. It was cold, as cold as a winter night. Even fire couldn’t keep the Hunter warm and, the more it burned, the less air there was. It was difficult to breathe and the Hunter knew something was watching him from the shadows of the forest.

But just as suddenly as it came, it was gone. The Hunter could breathe again in the morning and he continued his journey. He could hear the animals now, movement all around him. With his bow and arrow ready, the Hunter followed a path of traces. A figure moved and the Hunter was about to shoot until he realized it was no animal, but a man.

Startled, the Hunter apologized but the man didn’t seem to mind. He had berries with him and promptly offered them to the Hunter. They ate them together and the Hunter explained what he was doing that far into the woods. The mysterious man listened carefully and grew greatly concerned when the Hunter told him about the events of the night before. The man declared that the Hunter would spend the night at his house henceforth, where he wouldn’t be cold or in danger anymore.

Touched by the man’s generosity, the Hunter accepted the offer. They returned to the man’s house together, only for the Hunter to learn it was no house, but a castle. Strangely, the castle was empty; no family, no servants. It was just the man and him.

But the Hunter didn’t care, not when night fell and he was warm and safe. On the next morning, the Hunter declared that he must pay for his host’s generosity. So deep into the forest, the Hunter finally found the animals. He returned to the castle with two fat rabbits. That night, the two men dinned like kings.

The same thing happened again and again. The Hunter would go out during the day and bring back food. The two men would dine together and then stay up through the night, talking and exchanging stories. All the while, the Hunter would also spare some of the food to bring back to his family. Soon, the Hunter had gathered enough meat to last through Winter. He could go home now.

But he didn’t want to leave the other man all alone in the forest. In their days together, they had grown attached and the Hunter felt protective over him. However, when the Hunter asked the man to come back with him, the man refused. He couldn’t leave his castle. There was a curse and, if the man wandered off too far away, terrible things would happen. The man had chosen to be alone rather than let others suffer.

The Hunter would not have it. If there was a curse, all they had to do was break it. The man laughed at the statement and told the Hunter that, to break that curse, one would have to kill the Shadow that haunted the forest. It was an impossible task. When the Hunter asked why it was impossible, the man explained that one would have to stab the Shadow right under its heart. Nobody would ever get this close, though.

Irreverently, the Hunter said that if that was what it took to free his host, he would do it. Seeing that there was no changing the Hunter’s mind, the man rushed to another room in the castle. When he came back, he carried three gifts.

The first was a ruby necklace; this would both attract the Shadow and alert the Hunter to its presence. The second was a Seraph Arrow; the rarest of metals and the only one that could kill the Shadow. The third was a ring. This last one carried no magic, no powers. It only had the man’s initials carved on its surface. It was the one the Hunter treasured the most.

Armed and blessed, the Hunter went into the forest as night fell. The gentle chill of the night quickly gave way to icy cold breezes. Mustering all of his courage, the Hunter parted with the first gift. He laid the ruby necklace on a large rock and then found a hiding spot nearby. If this was a hunt, he would have to lure his prey in.

Cold turned freezing and suddenly breathing was hard again. The Hunter had his bow in hand, a quiver of arrows at his back. The ruby necklace began to glow, and the Hunter moved a hand to get the silver arrow. That was when he felt it; a warm breathing on the back of his neck.

Moving fast, the Hunter avoided the Shadow’s attack. It had a human form and the face of a man, but it moved like an animal. A demon to be sure. Its claws wrecked through the tree the Hunter had used as cover, but the Shadow quickly realized his target had escaped.

The Hunter didn’t have time to think. He got up and put some distance between himself and the creature. Not enough, though, and the Shadow’s claw got him this time. The Hunter fell to the ground, struggling for air. He grabbed the Seraph Arrow, but then the Shadow was over him. It broke the arrow and knocked it from his hand, parting him from the second gift. A twisted smile formed on its grotesque face as the Shadow pinned the Hunter’s hand to the ground.

Grasping and panting, the Hunter realized he was suffocating. He looked around and his eyes stopped at the hand the creature was holding down. It was the hand wearing the ring.

The Hunter would not part from it.

Summoning all his strength, the Hunter was able to throw the Shadow away from him. In a desperate move, the Hunter grabbed the Seraph Arrow and positioned it just in time. The Shadow had gotten to him again, hovering over the Hunter. But, as it did, the Shadow impaled itself on the Seraph Arrow, right under its heart.

Its screech deafened the Hunter for a moment. The sunlight covered the Earth, warming the Hunter’s body and vanishing the Shadow’s vestiges into dust. It was done.

When the Hunter returned to the castle, hurt but triumphant, the man was waiting for him. However, he was not a mere man anymore, but the Warlock. The man’s eyes, before brown and warm, were now gold and powerful. But his smile remained the same, so the Hunter smiled back.

Once the Hunter presented the Warlock with the dust, the curse was completely broken. A rush of magic exploded through the forest and everything seemed to come alive around them. The world where the Hunter had grown up paled in comparison to this. The legends he had heard had talked about magic and a time where the Warlock lived and ruled, but nothing had prepared him for this. The Hunter kneeled, overwhelmed by such power.

That made the Warlock smile and touch the Hunter’s face gently. For his services, the Hunter’s family would never want for anything ever again, the Warlock declared. All they needed would be provided. His brothers and sister would know no suffering, no hunger, no cold. The Hunter thanked him and meant to get up, but the Warlock stopped him with a gentle finger.

As for the Hunter himself, he had kneeled as a Hunter, the Warlock continued, but he would rise as something more. The Shadowhunter, slayer of demons. For his courage and kindness, the Shadowhunter would be allowed one request and the Warlock would happily grant it to him. Whatever riches, whatever land, whatever his heart desired. It was his; all he needed to do was ask.

The Shadowhunter rose and stared into the Warlock’s golden eyes. There was only one thing his heart desired and that was the Warlock himself. He never wanted to leave, for as long as the Warlock would have him.

That was the easiest request the Warlock had ever granted in his long, long life. In hand in hand, the Warlock and his Shadowhunter when back to the castle. Just as the rest of the world, the castle had come alive once more. It was no longer empty but full of outworldly creatures. Sorcerers, creatures of the night, beings of the forest, and even shapeshifters. They embraced the Warlock and welcomed the Shadowhunter.

In that world of magic and power, they lived happily ever after.

[webcricket]

The Truth is Out There [on Netflix]

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Sam and Dean Winchester, Crowley

Word Count: 1600

A/N: One-shot written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Kari’s Favorite Things Challenge with prompt – The X-Files. Castiel searches for the truth of the human condition on Netflix…with a little help from his friends and a pair of fictional FBI agents who exemplify something it turns out he very much wants to believe. Off-beat humor and saccharine fluff.

The fateful day Sam instructed Castiel how to go about accessing Netflix was the day life in the bunker irrevocably changed. When not assisting with a case, the angel could reliably be found in his room binge watching yet another series, or two. You often tarried at the threshold of his ajar door on the way to bed to appreciate the television illuminated enraptured dopey smile glowing upon his normally austere features.  Frequently you surrendered to the temptation to join him, swiftly drifting to sleep listening not to the television, but to his gentle laughter. He didn’t seem to mind the company, regularly and uncomplainingly obliging the use of his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when your drowsy head rolled sideways. Generally speaking, you were happy he found something to distract him from his myriad of woes and fill his long no-sleep-required angelic nights, not to mention the perfect pretext to spend more downtime with him without drawing unwanted notice and subsequent teasing from Sam and Dean.

The angel’s initial viewing preferences mostly leaned toward comedic sitcoms and classic slap-stick thanks to Dean’s belief that Cas needed to lighten up and a worldly anecdote about laughter being the best medicine. Innocent enough suggestions until Cas spent an entire week indicating every instance wherein a laugh track insertion would be appropriate in daily life. He even downloaded an app on his phone to further illustrate the point. Dean, the recipient of the lion’s share of this attention, was not amused. The last straw came when Cas stood by during a tense alleyway confrontation with their on-again off-again ally Crowley, pointing out with a gravelly there, there, and there again whenever the King of Hell made a particularly witty retort. Grasping his friend very firmly by the shoulder, Dean informed Cas, in no uncertain terms lest the angel not understand, exactly where he could hilariously shove his proverbial laugh track. Crowley never before, or again, regarded his angelic counterpart with such high esteem as he did during that meeting.

Sam had the brilliant idea of filling the angel’s watch queue to the brim with documentaries. Castiel, already a walking celestial encyclopedia of all-encompassing universal knowledge, day-by-day became swayed by one extreme opinion after another. First, it was the evils of sugar. The angel took it upon himself one evening to smite every last granule of the substance from the kitchen while you all slept, blissfully unaware there would be no morning breakfast cereal when you awoke or sweet crystalline delight to dump into your bitter coffee. You habituated to hiding in the bathroom with the shower running to mask the sound of contented chewing to enjoy your favorite cookies free from the angel’s icy blue disapproving glare. Dean began keeping pie in the Impala’s glovebox, by happy accident discovering apple pie stored in a car sitting in direct afternoon sun was nearly as delicious as one pulled piping hot from the oven. Sam walked around with a smug grin for a whole week, soaring mood squelched only when Cas sternly questioned him about the provenance of his salad greens. Were they genetically modified? Was he aware of the pesticides used in their production and their impact on the drastically dwindling bee population? The land destroyed in the manufacture of the palm oil listed as the fifth ingredient in his favored salad dressing? Was that salmon topping his heaping bowl of wrongs wild caught, or farmed?

Amidst threats by the thoroughly vexed parent-figure Winchesters to cancel Netflix altogether and a sulking Castiel dejectedly retreating to his room like a grounded teenager, you interceded, promising the brothers you would find something totally innocuous for the angel to watch. You weren’t giving up your late night snuggle fests, that conveniently no one thus far had identified as snuggling, without a fight. Netflix received a temporary stay of execution. Stifling a victorious squeal, cloaked in a mask of utter calm, you slunk from the library to apprise Cas of the good news, pace quickening to an enthusiastic scamper when you rounded the corner out of the brothers’ sight. Neither Sam nor Dean were fooled by the feigned disinterest of your demeanor – your amorous interest in the angel practically a flashing neon sign to everyone but the aforementioned oblivious angel. They exchanged a knowing glance, punctuated by Dean’s signature smirk and Sam’s husky laughter – the socially stumbling stoical seraph was your problem now.

“There is no such thing as little green men,” Cas said, narrowing his ocean blue eyes. Nearly five seasons into a marathon viewing of The X-Files, and the angel couldn’t get past the alien mythology behind the show.

As far as you were concerned, he was missing the whole point. “Ugh,” you grunted. Sat cross-legged side-by-side with the angel on the floor at the end of the bed, you flopped against the edge of the mattress, “you do realize you sound exactly like Dana Scully. How can you be so certain, oh skeptical one?”

“Because, there is no such creature in creation,” he stated matter-of-factly, expression earnest as he peered into your exasperated aspect, “I was there almost at the dawn, and I am fairly certain God didn’t create little green men before he created angels.”

“It’s a fictional world Cas,” you lamented, “it’s not about the aliens. Ever hear of suspension of disbelief for entertainment’s sake? Mulder wants desperately to believe there is a tangible explanation for his missing sister. It’s the great unknown of his life. Speculating gives him hope, something to hold on to, to chase. He’s broken, he has made mistakes, he’s doing the best he can in an imperfect world.” You realized after the last word lilted off your tongue that perhaps Mulder’s plight might hit a bit close to home for the angel.

“I understand,” Cas murmured, bobbing his scruffy chin thoughtfully, “then you value this show not for the accurateness of its subject matter, but for its depiction of the primary characters.”

“Yes, exactly!” you beamed. “And, you know, the complexity of their relationship.”

Cas squinted, his bewilderment palpably hanging in the air between you.

You suggestively waggled your eyebrows, “You know…the tension.”

“Ah,” Cas nodded comprehension, “you mean their continually dissenting opinions.”

“No Cas,” you shook your head, “I mean the sexual tension. Mulder and Scully are madly in love.”

The angel could not have appeared more gob-smacked than if you’d suddenly sprouted an additional big blinking eye in the center of your forehead.

“Look,” you snatched the remote, “I’ll just find a program more in your wheelhouse.” Clearly enjoying fantastic multi-layered character-driven sci-fi drama was off the scale of the angel’s emotional barometer and reading between the lines was not a skill he possessed with any degree of fluency. Maybe something in the realm of mystery like Murder She Wrote was a better option? Maybe a procedural cop drama a la N.Y.P.D. Blue?

Cas’ rough palm clasped over yours to prevent you from turning the episode off. “Please,” he entreated when you met his searching sapphire regard, “explain it to me. I want to understand.”

“O-okay,” you stuttered, focus dropping to his hand still holding yours.

He sheepishly withdrew the interloping appendage to rest in his lap.

“Um, it’s, uh,” you gaped, endeavoring to rally your thoughts beyond the lingering warmth of his touch tingling your fingers.

“I recognize they deeply respect one another,” the angel offered.

You nodded.

“And they would do anything to help one another,” he continued.

You kept nodding.

“And they make great personal and professional sacrifices to remain together as partners,” the tone of his voice rose, suggesting the waters of his perception here became muddied.

You looked to be exuberantly auditioning for the part of a life-sized bobble-head figurine.

“Yet they seem to me to be no more than friends,” he sighed, slouching against the bed in defeat of his own reasoning.

You reigned in your wildly bobbing noodle to articulate a reply, “For a long time they value their friendship too much to risk complicating it, but that doesn’t mean they love each other any less fiercely.”

“For a long time?” Cas lifted a brow askance.

“Spoiler warning,” you cautioned, “their relationship does become romantic, but as it turns out they were always much better friends. They each have a lot of baggage,” you paused, remembering to clarify so the angel didn’t think you were talking about literal luggage, “I mean, they bring a lot of pained history to the relationship, and it ultimately prevents them from being together that way.”

“And do they regret complicating their friendship with…with this romance?” Cas stared intently at you – oddly eager, in your estimation, for your answer.

You deliberated on your interpretation for a moment, taking into account the movies and the revival season in your verdict, “The way I see it?”

Cas nodded once, blue eyes glinting beneath an increasingly concentrated brow.

“No.”

Features relaxing, he sucked in a relieved, and for an angel, completely unnecessary breath.

“Why do you ask?” you motioned to set the remote on the floor between your bodies.

Cas caught up your hand in his again as you let the remote drop. Twining his fingers through yours, he waited for you to meet his openly adoring gaze before answering, “Because now seems like an appropriate time to tell you I value our friendship…very much.”

“I value our…oh,” your tongue seized, brain playing catch-up to the tender but insistent squeeze of his fingers. “Fiercely?” you whispered, agog.

“Fiercely,” he acknowledged. A soft smile curving his lips, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your astonished mouth.

[reginrokkr]

Concept of home is foreign in the mind of a wayward seraph whom is naught but a nomad for the sake of concluding unfinished business. Even several centuries of a healthy relationship are a struggle to change the foreign sense into familiarity, wish as he may in moments when he dares to feel selfish. At least Dáinsleif can take relief from the knowledge that al-Háitham is cognizant of this reality, that he will never make him reconsider the way he leads his life nor dissuade him from following his calling.

Rose hues dust moon-kissed cheeks as albescent lashes flutter close, a moment's joy to relish kindness, love and care that he seldom encounters in his eternal pursuit of the Abyss Order. Unspoken surprise causes glacial sapphires to reveal through long lashes when he listens to his lover be so direct in matters of personal wishes that concern his person. For how long has he kept this thought tucked inside his heart? Twilight's own clenches within the confines of his chest out of fleeting guilt, perhaps he should have asked him more often about his sentiments, his thoughts about this, about them— or perhaps it is his own bluntness to put weary feelings into words that gave al-Háitham courage to do the same.

❝Anything you wish to do... you needn't my permission. My heart is in your hands.❞ Such is Dáinsleif's heartfelt feeling, so much that he would lay his life for his lover if need be under different circumstances. Albescent lashes flutter close with a low hum, his head nestles in the crook of his neck in search of that warmth he adores, strong arms round around his muscular frame to hold him holy.

Forgetting about the burdens that rest heavy on his shoulders for a while doesn't sound too bad.

Seldom times does anyone ever dare to descend through the dark trepidations of the Abyss in order to arrive to the Kingdom hidden in one of the most shadowy ends of this world lest it is some wayward traveler whom lost their way and by some miracle were able to make their way through nocturne beasts. Even less diplomats of nations under the Seven's watch, being Khaenri'ahn delegates more likely to ascend to the elemental realm given their abilities to avoid these monsters. For this reason, let it be no doubt that it is a grand occasion to be made knowledgeable of the premise that Sumeru's Grand Scribe is bound to come to Khaenri'ah soon.

Despite the benefits this can provide to the concealed kingdom, the Twilight Sword is not blind to the faults of a concerning part of the denizens whom still follow late King Irmin's delusions of plunging to darkness the entirety of the world. As well as he is not deft to murmurs of sects and their workings to thwart the regency of the Alberich patriarch given his intentions to quench the thirst for revenge many have. Reason why he asked Halfdan explicitly to bring the Scribe to his office in the Black Serpent Knights headquarters to meet him in person, to find out what the man's motives are exactly and trace a plan of protection for him for as long as his stay lasts.

O' all-knowing Irminsul, answer me: what are the origins of this man sent from the land of verdure?

Gloved hands intertwine in a prayer, albescent lashes flutter close to establish the undeniable connection he has with the Sacred Tree that answers to his supplication in a heartbeat. Vague imagery of what Dáinsleif presumes to be the era of the Archon War appears in flashes. Seven sapphire cities rise from golden sands to touch the sky, a black malady no different from abyssal presence that lingers close to Khaenri'ah causes chaos in the desert area as vast as the sea. Amongst consecrated drakes a golden-winged man stands, slashing through any adversity with his kukris and all imagery fades to nothingness, thus concluding the answer— never direct, only enough for bright minds to understand with the least amount of information.

Icy sapphires overlook a main street that leads to the headquarters through a big window, hands clasped behind his back in an elegant posture as he watches Halfdan and the Scribe approach. Astral eyes narrow in quiescent thought at the new notion presented to him: this man is no ordinary human— he is a celestial being. Garuda. Should others notice a peculiar distinction from him, they might attempt to do something against his person. Even worse, whatever they may do could be justified as an act to preserve this kingdom from heavenly envoys.

Truth be said, even Dáinsleif hesitates to think that the Sumerian diplomat may not harbor any ill feelings for him to reach this dark corner of the world.

❝Lord Dáinsleif. Here he is.❞

❝Come in.❞ He hears Halfdan open the door to his office to let the man in question enter. ❝It is reassuring to know that you were able to descend to Khaenri'ah, Scribe of Sumeru.❞ A few more seconds pass before the Twilight Sword turns on his heels, a hand rises to touch his chest in a sign of friendliness and courtesy. ❝I hope I did not inconvenience you for asking Halfdan to bring you to me first, the journey must've been hard enough. My name is Dáinsleif, also known as Twilight Sword— captain of the Black Serpent Knights.❞

Astral pupils do not fail to see the distinctiveness of white pupils and eyes in the semblance of the god that gave him celestial power: Al-Ahmar. Nor he does his sentience fail to feel the heavenly energy he carries within him, albeit concealed remarkably well under flesh, bone and marrow of human vessel. ❝Halfdan, guard the door if you may.❞ Naught but a nod and a salute is exchange in response before the gray-haired subordinate leaves the office.

Gloved hands clasp anew behind his back as he walks unhurriedly some steps to one side. ❝So tell me, Grand Scribe. What brings you here to Khaenri'ah?❞ A few days ago Dáinsleif was given a document that contains information about this man alongside the reason why he solicited to come to this kingdom. Nevertheless, it is mandatory to ask him— whatever his answer may be, how honest he may be and sincere will determine the custody he will benefit from. And the vigilance that he will endure, all things considered. He faces the man, eyes sharp in comparison to earlier sense of amiability. ❝Surely there must be more to your visit other than to register information about Khaenri'ah, is it not?❞

Sometimes truth is more impacting than any wild flights of imagination hope to be. Even al-Háitham was surprised to find out what was plaguing Dáinsleif's mind. Not for too long, regardless. Vermillion-emerald eyes soften when the truth of his lover's heart hits at long last, his thumbs seek to keep brushing the smooth, porcelain skin of his face whilst he conjures an answer.

There is no easy response to something like this, specially when there is no fixing in the short-term. Of course everything has a fix and this situation is no exception, but the Scribe is aware of the fact that nothing will work for as long as the Bough Keeper presses on with his duty.

Not like he would want it any other way, either. His duty deserves respect as does he— he would never dare to take that away from him.

So what else can he do in order to help soothe those sentiments born from no less than what he seeks? As he would have no other way, that is an answer that long ago it took homage in his mind. For that is a question he has always made to himself in order to do what is best for his significant other. "Not until you are released from your duty, I know." He answers, pressing a kiss on his forehead the exact moment he presses his forehead against his chin.

"But so long as you are with me, right here... Allow me to take care of you, to make you forget about your burdens for an instant." This is the way he has to ensure that his mental health remains in good parameters, his physical health is something he has less doubts about soothing every time the curse's effects spike on his body. Another kiss is pressed, this time on a fair eyebrow before his arms snake around him once more to keep him close, his cheek presses against his temple.

"To reminisce olden times when your life was more leisurely and replicate them to the best of my ability while you are here... this is something I can do."

No surprise makes itself manifest in the Grand Sekretar of Sumeru at the imposing sight of tall, somber buildings and palaces left and right. This is where the end of humanity remains, after all. It is but natural to see the civilisation built in the likeness of what surrounds it as a means for survival. Pure interest reflects in dichromatic eyes whilst he walks beside a knight, an elite knight to be precise from what he was told: a Black Knight Serpent.

For reasons he cannot quite grasp yet, he was told that he must be brought to the highest eminence amongst this elite group of knights before they follow the usual protocol with those who are brave enough to descend to Khaenri'ah for a diplomatic exchange. There is nothing he can ask nor there is sense in pressing for answers when naught will come until the captain of the Black Serpent Knights sees him in person, therefore most of the trip is filled with gaps of silence except for some small chitchat of his interest related to places they encounter in their way to the Black Serpent Knights Headquarters.

No denial would be made were he asked if he's intrigued by the reason why he must go under the eye of the Twilight Sword first, a figure that he is not stranger of due to his heroic feats and his unmatched strength for a kingdom that counts with a military unit made of automatons. The guardian that escorted him knocks the door of what he presumes to be the Twilight Sword's office, Halfdan he said is his name. Only at the sound of the captain's voice he would open the door to enter.