traveling  to  other  kingdoms  in  the  guise  of  political  duties  was  a  part  of  his  day  to  day.  so  nosherwan  didn't  bat  an  eye  when  he  found  himself  in  vissai.  the  land  was  different  to  what  he  was  used  to.  at  the  same  time,  there  was  a  familiar  dryness.  sand  and  stone  weren't  too  far  apart. 

he  spent  most  of  his  time  there  in  the  throne  room  of  the  palace.  it  wasn't  until  the  king  had  decided  that  the  negotiations  were  over  that  he  was  able  to  leave.  old  man.  not  that  the  changeling  had  any  room  to  speak.  he  was  also  an  old  man. 

still,  he  found  himself  seeking  the  crown  prince  out  once  they  were  out  of  the  room.  he  couldn't  take  his  eyes  off  of  the  man.  a  potential  connection  for  his  own  crown  prince. 

the  changeling  smiled  softly  when  he  finally  reached  him,  bowing  in  his  direction.  “apologies  for  the  intrusion,  but  i  was  wondering  if  you  had  time  to  become  better  acquainted?  i'd  love  to  pick  your  brain  on  the  future  of  vissai.” 

and  how  they  could  both  benefit  from  one  another.

ritrinc was a truly magnificent place. godefrius wasn't talking about the kingdom, but rather, the natural environment in which the kingdom was located. chasque was situated near bodies of water as well, but it didn't have flora species as expansive as ritrinc. despite the festivities in the capital, godefrius opted to explore the surrounding area but never strayed far from where the crowds lay. before, he might have tried to venture away to the outermost of the region; the life of a monster hunter gave him the freedom to do so. but now that he supported the crest of chasque, godefrius knew that it wasn't proper for a guest to wander around unattended.

ansegar stood like a sore thumb in the grand hall of the vissai's throne room,           and though no eyes looked at him with any judgement, his own self was the one who is causing his nervousness. before he came down from the wall, his brothers have told him of vissai's generosity. not only to the night's watch all throughout their history, but also to himself.

apparently, he was presented here first: at the foot of their king, seeking sanctuary from the family that wanted to kill him. and not wanting any conflict to break out, he had advised his mother to take the child to the wall instead ... but they will support him. even take him as a ward if he chooses. ansegar has chosen differently, then, training instead to be soldier of the night's watch. so nervousness must have come from there: to prove that he is still worth their support after all this time.

when he was finally called, ansegar then walked up to the spot close to the foot of the throne ... and was presented, not to the king, but the crown prince instead. remembering the lessons he got from the other bastard princes, he then knelt and lowered his head. in his hand he gripped the scabbard of the gift he made for this occasion, which seemed heavier and warmer now that he is kneeling there. he cleared his throat.    "   i come to you as ansegar, an unsworn wolf of the night's watch.   "    he says, keeping his eyes down still.    "   it's an honor to be in your presence, your highness.   "

not that stark of a difference, all things considered.

years after his father's passing, balthor could still remember the words said when his father caught him, all bloody but victorious, in the underground fighting ring. 'i raised you to be better than some mindless, violent beast!'. there were more talks about family legacy and reputation as the famed blacksmith family, but that one particular exclamation struck deep inside balthor that he had yet to shake off.

was he truly a mindless, violent beast? did the heavy pouch of gold won through violence bring shame to his family?

now that he finally knew where he came from, balthor couldn't bring himself to spare a thought for his dead father. the anvil, the workshop, the furnace were his duty as the blacksmith, but they left no place for joy unlike a good fight did. there was an itch within him that could only be sated through a bloodied fist. perhaps his father was correct; he truly was his mother's child, in anything but name.

standing in what was initially a pristine clearing a considerable distance away from the bustle of vissai, balthor found himself smiling, just a little curl of his lips. the thundering of his heart was nearly deafening, a result of both exertion and elation. it had been a while since he felt winded in a fight and, considering his ancestry, his opponent in this mock fight was remarkable, as expected from the crown prince.

“I will be quite safe with Ezrah, you needn’t insult the honored Rider by posting additional guards when all I plan to do is correspondence,” Joaquin smiles at the Hand who nods once and leaves. The smile turns feral when the door closes behind the interloper.

“Mmm… now that I think about it, I might be too distracted to work on writing letters." Getting up, he loosens the silk robe he wears, revealing more of his toned abs, and just barely concealing the man’s endowment. Coming around the desk, he blatantly drops a book next to the desk and grins at his bodyguard. “Would you bend over and pick that up for me, Rider?”

If Magnus had to be honest, he always felt a bit out of place when it came to being involved with the people of Aladonia. Noble or commonfolk, he always felt a bit uncomfortable whenever he had to mingle with the people - not that he was bad at it, of course. After a century, he had all but perfected the art of conversing with others, being sure to use the right titles - though he would only call another kingdom’s sovereign ‘your grace’ instead of the entire family - and greeting people with the respect necessary. But that didn’t mean he didn’t find himself yearning to leave the solemn affair that was the gatherings being held to honor the late Delesian king to go do something he knew he was comfortable with - flying.

Today was no exception. After spending a few hours, speaking with noblemen and ensuring the safety of his sovereigns - and making sure that they were being guarded by guards that he trusted and had trained himself - he had excused himself. Udriam was already chastising him through their connection, complaining about how it was about time that Magnus made good on his promise, and the rider could only chuckle. Making his way to the large stables that were built to house the dragons of both Delesian riders and visiting ones, Magnus was greeted by the stable-hands with bows as Udriam moved to step out of his stall.

Yth re ti loaw, the dragon warned, his ophidian gaze shifting to look towards another stall, and the rider couldn’t help but rise a brow. A hand moved to touch the dragon’s neck in thanks as he passed him by, curiosity getting the better of him, until he found himself standing before the Onderan rider. “Keh, coi ui filki wux,” Magnus spoke in Daganthian with a low chuckle before he moved to cross his arms over his chest. “It has been awhile, hasn’t it, Ezrah? Kagh wux kiri, di ekmiv, Fang.”