Waking up to Ash and Dust [Any of Tephra]

[magnus]

magnus

howling ghosts, they reappear
in mountains that are stacked with fear

Were Magnus the kind to have an ego, he may bristle at this brash man’s lack of recognition. He would grow angry at the young stallion’s nerve to talk about claiming and taking over land that Magnus had helped build. He had been there to climb the Mountain when Beqanna had split and reformed. He had been there to brave the heights and cold to petition the faeries for this volcanic land. He had been there amongst his allies to shape it into the vision of their own making, creating a haven within the chaos.

But Magnus has relatively little ego, perhaps surprising for a man made King twice over, and thus he only watches with his carefully neutral gaze. The mans’s words cause a knot to form in his stomach, the concern for Warrick (he still remembers when the stallion arrived) growing alongside worry for Tephra.

It is difficult to not think of the turmoil in Heaven’s Gates during more than one changing of crowns. The raids. The fights. The wounds. During the last, it had driven him from the kingdom entirely, following the pale gold mare who’d been exiled for daring to voice an opinion. So he cannot help but be wary. He cannot help but feel a certain immediate distrust for a stallion bold enough to challenge for a crown at all.

Still, he reminds himself that he has been gone, and he doesn’t truly know the young man before him at all. So he bites back the growing venom in his throat, the shadows beginning to churn in his belly—instead choosing to give him the slightest benefit of a doubt, a chance to prove himself.

“Kromium,” he says, weighing the name on his tongue before nodding, turning his attention to those who surround him. “Pleasure,” he greets in his whiskey voice, dipping his chin before drawing his gaze back to the man of iron. “It is a drastic measure to challenge for leadership,” he says, his words carefully measured, gold-flecked eyes burning into him. “It’s a violent decision that I’ve seen often end in nothing but turmoil for a land, for the families that reside within it.” A pause. “I should hope there was good reason for you to choose such a path for a place that you call home and not simply selfish ambition.”

Perhaps strong words, but he doesn’t back down from them, doesn’t back down from the clear way that he measures the stallion before him—waiting to see how he answers and waiting to finalize his opinion.

but you're a king and I'm a lionheart