V. HIEROPHANT

“L-Lord Lilia...-?!” Sebek stuttered, staring with wide eyes at the elder, nearly dropping the book in his hands. He had been in the middle of studying at his desk when Lilia had suddenly appeared in his room to give him this gesture. What had he done to deserve it? Or more importantly, why had Lilia gone through the trouble to do so?

He tries to open his mouth to express this concern, but no words leave his mouth. He’s far too flustered, face turning red as Lilia pats his head and probably purposefully messes with the locks painstakingly gelled into place. But he wouldn’t get upset at the vice leader for something so minor. Infact, a small smile crept its way to his face.

“But-!” Sebek bites his tongue, literally, stopping himself from speaking further. He swallows the blood back and closes his eyes. His hands fall to his side, fingers curling into fists.

Did he really have the right to scold the court master, of all people? No. No he was lucky to be allowed to be affiliated with the court at all. Even if it’s a court full of things he doesn’t quite understand. The arts were difficult for him, even with his found talent for poetry. These sorts of things, the fae in general really, didn’t have a concrete answer when addressing them. Perhaps it’s his age, being so young surrounded by beings of immortal life - he’s no match for any of them.

“You would do well to also learn how to get out of trouble, Cassian.” Sebek sighs, looking over their current predicament. How does one even get so tangled up in the thorns and dead-like trees around diasomnia? It boggles the mind, really. Currently Cassian was holding on desperately to one of the branches, trying his best not to fall into the thorns below. “Stay still, I’ll retrieve you.”

He takes a step, then vanishes with a gust of wind. He reappears above the oracle, putting his hand on the other’s shoulder before teleporting once again to the sidewalk outside the gates. Though his landings for such teleportation magics still needs work, and he falls on his back with Cassian landing on his chest. After catching his breath - which had been thoroughly knocked out of him, he looks at the other with a somewhat annoyed look.

He’s not sure what to think, other than he should have been more careful on where he was walking. He knew that the fae gathered in the garden were seelie’s, and probably higher ranking than most, so he had been warned to stay away. And he had, for the most part - had his club duties not brought him out this way he would have never set foot near the gardens during this gala.

....Now what? He was face to face with a relative who likely didn’t even know his very existence. Though apparently there were ‘rumors’, but he’s not surprised. Fae on both sides loved to gossip. Sebek’s birth, and continued existence, likely caused a stir every once an awhile - if the whispers behind his back at home were any indication.

“I assure you, what you have heard is just rumor.” His mother would be upset with this response, but he says it for her sake. They didn’t need a seelie, least of all the queen, knowing of his lineage. Sebek couldn’t be certain what she would do once she knew that.

rhys would not warn of his comings. it’s never necessary. the title king of the unseelies means it all belongs to him… they are simply lucky enough to be granted the bits & pieces they are allowed. the valley is no different. granted, it is not his favorite part of these realms. perhaps the history that’s stained here is the cause. it will always be a mystery. 

the reason he’s come here is because he’s finally decided it is time. it’s time to meet this child that is forbidden. to decide if it is worthy of survival or to break it into ash for staining the oberon name. 

his aura is dark, dangerous & ancient. it chills to the bone, it fills you with dread… but if a child has his blood - it’s welcoming. it becomes home because family is power. family is welcomed & that is how they find one another. the chill in the air halts; seemingly vacant eyes watching this child; a mere babe…

“ you recover quickly. ” a good trait. one the king will remember. he eyes the boy, the green in his hair, the posture, the way his breath evens and quickens all at once. even his heart beat… all of it is seen and measured; in an instant. so far… he can see why his daughter let him live.

“ stand. i want to see your face. ” an order as he steps forward. “ now, child. ”

He keeps his head lowered as he can feel the stare on him. While his mind blanked on what exactly his mother had told - warned - him about, his thoughts raised with other questions. Why was he here? Why now? Had he done something wrong? He swallows thickly as he waits for judgement.

“Y-Yes sir!” He quickly responds before getting up to his feet.. Posture straight, almost rigid, as he takes half a step forward to meet with the king partway. While he does his best to keep his gaze steady, there’s a moment or two he takes a look over the one in front of him - the king, his family. He had always wondered what he had looked like, and while his mother gave colorful descriptions of all his family members he couldn’t always be sure what was real and what was exaggerated. Still, he doesn’t think any of her descriptions could have prepared him to be in the presence of the real deal.

He knows why he was kept separately from them, he’d be a fool not to know. His mother was trying to protect him, but also trying to determine if he was worth keeping around. He could feel that same stare she sometimes had with his grandfather (like father like daughter?).

Unrelenting Standards

Your primary feeling is one of pressure. You feel as if you can never relax and enjoy life. That you must always push to get ahead. For you, life is only doing. It is having to work or achieve all the time. You feel frustrated and irritated with yourself for not meeting your own high standards.

Physical stress is common with you. You may have headaches, digestion or bowel problems, as well as high blood pressure and/or insomnia. At root, you probably feel chronically angry, but with no apparent object to direct that anger towards. Instead of staying with that anger, you channel it outwards to your surroundings. Everything has to be perfect. You need to feel in control.

Most likely you are successful. But you rarely stop and enjoy your success. The balance between work and pleasure feels lopsided. You turn many forms of activity into work and it enslaves you. You seem to have lost touch with your basic self. You go through the motions, but no longer know what makes you happy.

Someone, or thing, big was coming. That’s what he knew right away. Despite their already pale features, both Lilia and Malleus seemed to lose what color they had in their faces when the presence hit them all. It was just a presence of someone, nothing more - yet it felt like they were suffocating under it.

Except...Sebek felt more at ease with it. It was still terrifying, but there was something...familiar.

Almost in a daze, Sebek steps forward, ignoring the calls of Lilia behind him. Malleus didn’t dare say a word, likely knowing who was coming. But Sebek didn’t know, he simply followed the presence as if it was calling for him. Anyone weak hid away easily in any spot they could find as Sebek continued his search for the source.

Then Sebek sees him. He sees him and suddenly everything makes sense.

“You’re....” They both seem to mumble at the same time, but Sebek speaks the rest of his thought first.

“...Grandfather....?” Comes a mumbled question - it’s a childish tone as he stares up with wonder, awe, and maybe a small amount of fear. The king of the unseelie’s - here? In the valley?

“I don’t need your help-!” Sebek barks, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is very much about to get surrounded right now. Back to back with Silver is how he was used to fighting. The two played off of eachother well, despite the fact that Sebek always insisted on taking the brunt of everything. But that’s how the dynamic was. Even this was a familiar conversation, but in the end Sebek always let Silver continue on with his distraction.

It took mere moments afterward for the wannabe assailants to be downed and restrained. He dusted off his uniform while Silver was busy tying up the last of them. “That was reckless.” A normal conversation yet again. “You need to think of your status.” Hypocritical coming from him. “Next time you plan to leave the area of the valley without anyone by your side - don’t. I will accompany you.”

“Mother--” He falters, if only for a moment, looking down at the woman who raised her voice. She hardly did that - at least with him. He could count the times on one hand that it had happened. He wants to argue, plead, with her - get her to release him so he might rush to his master’s side. The look in her eyes has him wavering, and he’s brought to the question that always plagued him - would he have to choose between his blood relatives and his found family? Would he be able to make that choice in a situation that truly mattered?

“Fear not, mother. I won’t die so easily. You raised me better than that.” She didn’t raise him at all - but he feels the need to say so regardless. She had always been in his life, and for that he was thankful. She could have ended his life at any time and yet she hadn’t - that was enough for Sebek to see how much she truly cared about him.

please note that I’m only putting this here for my own reference, and unless we’ve plotted otherwise your character will not know this name.

As all fae know, names are powerful. Names allow magic to seep in and wrap around the letters, controlling them to their will. But in Sebek’s case, his mother wanted to make sure his name was also a form of protection - and made his name ridiculously long to not only show his status - but to make it more difficult for anyone to truly figure out.

Sebek’s true name is this: Meallán Nuadha Laoidheach Aoi Owen Caiseal Oberon

what each of the names mean: Meallán (lightning) Nuadha (cloud maker) Laoidheach (songful / poetical) Aoi (poetic inspirtation) Owen (yew/well born) Caiseal (castle) Oberon

“My uncle, Ronan, is a bit of a mystery to me, if I’m honest.” Sebek hums, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve never met him, my mother doesn’t want me to and I trust her judgement.” But there is so much he knows about his uncle. That is, he knows his uncle’s weaknesses. His mother, so scared that her brother would do something awful, taught her son what was necessary to defend himself. And if that didn’t work, he was to call for her in a moment’s notice. “I’ve heard rumors that he’s a very powerful swordsman - there’s part of me that wishes I could see him use a blade and ask for advice.” But that would never happen if his mother had anything to say about it.

“My mother is the most amazing woman you could ever lay your eyes on!” Sebek speaks with such confidence, pride, and admiration. “She’s beautiful, charismatic, and a loving mother. The complete package really. I’m happy that I was born to such an amazing woman.” He would sing her praises all day, especially the fact that she is the unseelie princess. But that would mean revealing himself of royal blood, so he bites his tongue (literally, for a moment). No need to tell anyone that bit. Especially not a human.

“She is rather....overprotective, though. Not that that’s a bad thing! But sometimes I have to wonder - not why she’s overprotective but what exactly she’s protecting me from.”

He shivers. The possibilities were endless, really.