♚ Rightful King

{ ooc. Updated Validar’s name a little-- just his surname because Forneus was... no

it’s just  Validar Atum Nkrumah Ozymandias

{ ooc. Hi yes I probably won’t be back for another day or so but have this small one-liner call

how could you do this Naeva the Fjalar bloodline's cursed now...

{ ooc. for fuck’s sake, naeva... birthing the antichrist can be excused bUT THIS?? UNFORGIVABLE let’s be real though-- it was cursed the moment Arvis was born

see his horrible receding hairline?? You know what that is?? Genetic.

You know whose hairline is now in danger as they grow older??

Robin’s

     To say that the sorcerer cares about his children would be a horrendously exaggerated statement-- in truth, they are merely pawns, with their single purpose being the only thing about them that matters to the man. Yet, in the presence of him-- that blasted exalted; the one who tried, and failed, to wipe him and his Grimleal from the face of the world--, when comparisons are made and subtle insults are hurled insulting himself, does Validar feel inclined to make a stand. How dare he-- degrading those two in a way that is supposed to reflect on his “inability” to produce offspring strong enough to survive.      A low, acidic sort of laugh escapes from the sorcerer’s form.

          “You’re mistaken,”

     He is not defending his children, no-- instead, he speaks up, fights back, only to preserve his own ego and keep someone so inferior in line. If it is an argument Anri wants, that is what he will get, and it shall end in his own humiliation. Again.

Consider: Validar holding a baby like Chris Hemsworth holding his kid in that one beach photo, except he’s not enjoying it AT ALL.

{ ooc.

yES

LUKE I’M DYING this is it this is how he holds a baby

Validar doesn’t have the first idea how to hold a baby. Don’t hand them to him because he:

1) Dislikes babies in general, since he finds them to be loud and their constant dependence on others annoying 2) Doesn’t know how to fucking hold one 3) Doesn’t do empathy so you’re not going to get him to bond with a baby like most others would

He’s like the don’t sections from those ‘how to’ baby memes. If forced to, he’d hold a baby in the most awkward way possible and hand it off to the first person who’d take the kid from him.

     Had he the option to hand the girl off to her mother, and be rid of his youngest daughter’s presence, the sorcerer would have done so immediately. She-- this ungrateful, little brat who would sooner insult the gods than accept her destiny-- has not earned the right to spend more than a mere second with him, let alone shadow Validar for the entirety of this miserable day. If only he had not let his wife tend to business outside of the palace in his stead-- if only he had not agreed to let the woman be accompanied by Nathifa. With not a single soul he could convince to watch his child, the father finds himself stuck, silently fuming and doing all in his power to not even look at their lord’s pitiful vessel.      Surely, there must be a way to strip Robin of that title, and bestow it onto the only daughter of theirs that would want such a thing. To swap their blood.

     Talon-like nails scratch at his forehead, body hunched over an elegant, and rather expensive, desk, hoping that if he simply stayed in his study and buried himself in amongst texts pertaining to dark magic, the girl’s presence would vanish from his mind. Validar has half a mind to subject the girl to rituals, and teach her his trade so that she might be ready to assume control of the sect at the right time, but how could the sorcerer properly consider such a foolish idea? He would sooner maim himself than trust this girl-- his progeny, the man thinks with an annoyed huff-- with his faithful Grimleal. With those who worship the fell dragon. Those who know, understand and accept the roles they were given.      Besides, the runt has never seemed to harbour the decency to listen to him-- such childish behaviour would not suddenly vanish.

    To say that the last few months have been vexing would be naught but an understatement—in truth, there has not been a single moment where the sorcerer’s mind has not been plagued with annoyingly persistent thoughts. Of course, it would only be a matter of time before his child’s power would be reclaimed—that the fell dragon’s vessel would return, whether it be against his will or not--, but that does not stop Validar from meticulously combing over every detail. For now, all the father can do is retreat to his study and wait, having sent out a few more groups of Grimleal in search for the boy. Perhaps it is a risky move, attempting to pus forward the day he has been anticipating for over twenty, long years, but he could not care less. All that matters is Robin’s return—‘how’ and ‘when’ does not matter to the sorcerer in the slightest.     So, when word reaches his study about a boy adorned in that same cloak—that cloak, he thinks, that was foolishly made to be one-of-a-kind—, standing in the throne room, it is unsurprising that Validar is quick to abandon the ever-growing stack of parchment sitting atop his desk.

    It is just a shame that the individual snake-like eyes fall upon is not his child.

         “…Is this a joke?”

    The words fall from thin lips in a tone devoid of emotion, carrying a gravely edge to them as dark features sink into a deep frown. He will not lie—this stranger does bear some resemblance to what the father recalls seeing in Robin and maybe even his own wife. There might be a possibility that this child had been tasked with impersonating the vessel, with those Ylissean brats expecting him to try and bring back Robin to Plegia. Perhaps he should have struck the stranger down without hesitating, and the sorcerer would have done that, had it not been for one small but glaring detail.     That air he has about him—it is the same, heavy sort that he only ever recalls picking up on around his child, his wife, and his father. Those with the blood of the fell dragon within their veins.     How odd.