Tiberios
A year. A long, wearisome year. One spent bound in chains and lies and secrecy. A year of resentment welling deep within him until it festered and sunk into his bones. A year for them to forget about him. But Tiberios, as mangled as he was, never seemed to die easily. He had evaded the clutches of the ancient foe and taken the fated journey once more to his homeland. He thinks he cannot call it that anymore, that the Dale has become the source of all his problems rather than the answer to them, but he’s still so innocently blind. He still holds her in his heart - really, she’s the only reason he’s returned. A faded promise he’d reminded himself of time and time again while he’d endured his captivity. He has no idea that she’s already put him in her past.
The ever-black stallion tops the rise - new scars on his good side from the pressure of the magicians chains to match the old scars now worn over on his burnt side. His gold-flecked eyes stare aimlessly into the void of the Dale. They seem so empty now. A tired frown sits right at home on his mouth, etched there. He’s aged. He could be his father’s sibling now. Both stallions fleshed out and mature. But unlike Tiphon, Tiberios will remain ugly and troubled. He sets aside his bitterness for later.
For now he only gives a half-hearted call - wondering if she’ll come to see him.
The Lord of the Dale has returned
TIBERIOS
White Fire manipulating stallion