Here come the Comedians - Magnus/Lucrezia/Sinew/any

[magnus]

magnus

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

Magnus has heard whisperings of Pangea, has heard enough to know what they are about. Raised from the earth by Carnage, they are no different than the Valley—and Magnus had a historical hatred of that kingdom. Coming together with Eight to create Tephra had been no small feat for him, and while he was working to rid himself of his prejudices, he could not bring himself to ignore the small itch between his shoulder blades when he thought of Pangea. They had been, so far, relatively quiet, but he had lived long enough to know that quiet was only the whispered comings of the storm. He would be ready.

Pollock does not bother to pretend to enjoy this and Magnus does not either. He remains rigid, carved from stone. Gone are the charm and the kind smiles; gone are the friendly demeanor he wore so well. He would not wear these things for them. Here, next to the two mares, he is every inch the son of Atrox and Twinge. He is every inch the soldier and the warrior—the stallion who had died battling Trashlip, the stallion who bled his brother out on the beach. He is dark with sharp edges, his face a stern mask.

“Welcome, Pollock,” his molten gaze moves to the mare, “and Sinew.” The smile that curves his scarred lips is tight and does not bring any warmth to his face. “And now you have seen what Tephra is all about,” he says simply, the steel beneath the words unmistakable. On the surface, the exchange is pleasant, but Magnus recognizes it for what it is. They were nothing more than dogs sniffing at one another, hunting for some spot of weakness. The tension in the air is palpable, but Magnus does not waver, does not bend.

“I had been planning to venture to Pangea myself soon. You have saved me the trip.” He had not looked forward to the journey, but viewed it as a necessity. He had no desire to tangle with Pangea, either to to place his home in harm’s way or to ally with whatever dark intentions they may have, but he knew he needed to brand himself, and this land, in their mind as strong. They were not weak targets.

Perhaps it was best that they came here instead. Let them see the volcano standing guard, let them see the life that teemed, let them see for themselves. Perhaps it was best that they come and see that Tephra was more than capable of standing up against them, of protecting their own. Magnus nods toward Lucrezia, her diplomacy softening the edges of his own, but he quickly returns his gaze to Pollock, holding the Krampus’ gaze steady. “Diplomacy and all that,” he echoes, shrugging scarred shoulders.

“Is there anything in particular you would like to discuss, or see, or was this simply an introduction?”

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