JeVondair Family/Selenia/Masquerade of Monarchs

Roleplay from Selenia JeVondair (2 days, 2 hours ago) Message sent to everyone in the region Isadril (31 recipients) THE XERARCH APPEARS: Part I

As High King Zinar passed the stepped past the threshold to the Balcony at last, Royal Guards appeared to close the floor-to-ceiling window entrances, their mountainous, crimson-clad forms cordoning the entire balcony.

Although everyone who chose to could see through the glass windows, this was clearly to be a private affair.

If Zinar was disturbed by the sounds of the doors closing and suddenly cutting off much of the noise of the Ball behind him, he did not show it. Instead taking a moment to take in his new surroundings. The Balcony was large masterwork of stone spanning 50 feet at least and overlooking the Bay of Isadril. He could here the crystalline music of fountains to either side of him routed through plumbing hidden in the walls on either end of the balcony where the great window-doors gave way to stone. Finely crafted iron tables and chairs dotted the space. Four potted pushes shaped to resemble avian forms dotted the balustrade evenly, and the railing itself was inlaid with candle-light lanterns that lit the area with a warm glow.

At the center of the balcony overlooking the bay stood a woman in a ruby-red velvet dress worked with subtle patterns of gold to resemble feathers. She was not a tall women, perhaps about 5'4. Blonde hair cascaded, pinned in the back by a golden, ruby-eyed Phoenix whose wings stretched around the the sides of her head like a laurel to rest gently on her ears, holding back her tresses, which were cut to reveal bare shoulders that were no strangers to sunlight. She wore a shall that wrapped around her back to tuck into the crooks of her elbows and Zinar could see that it too was worked with the golden feather motif, like wings, that shimmered in the firelight as he approached, the footsteps from his fine boots clearly audible as he came to a halt a respectable distance behind her. Zinar started to announce himself, but she spoke first.

"What is there to do," she began, "when half the world brings fire and death to your gates?" Zinar could tell by her tone that it was a rhetorical question and waited and sensed approval from his host. "You have a party," she continued turning toward him at last. A golden mask was razed to her face, intricately worked into a visage resembling a screeching eagle. "You celebrate, big and bold, to show them that you are far from finished." She made a gesture that took in the whole of Isadril. Zinar had not noticed before as this was his first time outside since sunset, but it seemed as though every lantern and candle in the city had been lit to fight of the gathering darkness. It must have been visible even all the way from Leibo!

"What do you do," The Xerarch continued, "when half your people think of you as god-touched, while half the world see's you as monster?" She tilted her head towards him, a curious expression with the mask on, it reminded Zinar of how a bird of prey looks when offered a treat right before snatching it up and gobbling it down. That is, until she lowered the masque and faced him squarely. "I am still seeking the answer to that one."

Selenia JeVondair, Xerarch of the Imperium of Greater Xavax, whom some were already calling the Phoenix incarnate, allowed herself to be appraised. She was altogether smaller than her larger-than-life reputation might suggest. Her skin did not glow gold. Thunder did not roll as she spoke, but there was a spark in her ordinary blue eyes, or was that just the reflection of the firelight? Trick of the light or no, her steady gaze was nevertheless unnerving as Zimar contemplated all that she must have seen if even half of the stories about her were true. She appeared to be about 30 years old, but Zinar already knew that was due to a Fountain of Youth scroll and that in reality she was quite a bit older. She was no legendary beauty, but not unlovely. Her lips were full and made for smirking, her features were evenly spaced, and there was a dignity about her that commanded respect. It was the bearing of a true Queen, a Mother of Empires. That feeling of her presence contrasted sharply with her otherwise unassuming appearance. Her garments, however, matched her station in every respect. First there was the Phoenix Laurel, which he now realized served as her crown...was the only mark of status on her. Her dress left her arms and shoulders bare, cut in a V-shape in the front.

Even in candlelight, Zinar could tell that she was powerfully well built, indicating to any with eyes to see that she was clearly a practiced swordswoman, and if her tone alone was not enough, the light white of faded scars would reveal her for the warrior she was. Zinar noticed that one of those scars, what he assumed was a sword wound, was still fresh and raw, the newest mar on the canvas of her skin appeared months old, but if the rumors were true, it was less than a week old. By rights, it should still be in stitches, but it was closed and well on the way to being fully healed. It clearly did not disturb her. That must have been the wound that brought her down at the battle of Xavax. A hit like that...maybe the rumors are true...Abrubtly, the High King realized the mark was right over Selenia's heart, just above the swell of her breasts. All of this he registered in moments, Zinar was too professional to let his gaze linger longer, but Selenia was definitely not unlovely, possessed of a unique attractiveness all her own. And from the shape of her hinted by the curves and planes of her dress, she was clearly in top athletic form, despite the fact that he new she'd had a son. Zinar was left wondering how much of her aura was due to who she was compared to how she carried on. His eyes continued their mission down, but hung on to two truly massive paw prints that could only have belonged to the mother direwolf he'd seen trotting gleefully from the balcony earlier.

"I bid you welcome to Isadril and Greater Xavax, High King. I am sorry to have kept you waiting. As you might imagine, this has been quite a week and I've had much to do in order to win this time alone with you. I am glad you finally found me; I'd wondered how long it would take. But it seems you've made a sufficient-enough impression on the nobles of my court that they felt inclined to help you?" She gestured again, indicating the balcony." This is my favorite spot in the city. It's easier for me to think in the quiet." She said into the silence, observing him as he returned his eyes to hers. Zinar realized she had been appraising him just as he had her. And when his eyes dropped again to the paw marks, so to did hers...

Zinar realized then why Lupa, Viscountess Gia's pet mother direwolf, had looked so very pleased with herself, tail waggling furiously when Gia had called her from the balcony just before he arrived...and the stream of pure invective that streamed from the Xerarch's mouth in that moment would forever be branded into his memory as Selenia spoke new and creative curses he'd never heard in all his noble-born life. "Damn it I liked this dress!" Selenia finished, her poise forgotten as she walked to the side pulled one of the iron chairs in one hand and table in the other to where she had been standing. Either she was stronger than her small form would suggest, or the tables were lighter than they looked, or booth. Zinar decided not to find out which as the Xerarch sat with an irritable huff and tried to wipe the mud from her otherwise flawless dress. She was so consumed with the task that when she looked up again, she seemed surprised that Zinar had remained rooted to the spot. "I...imagine this was not quite what you expected. But I promise I've no wish to eat your heart or liver or whatever nonsense that Perdanite lioncub manchild of a boyking is spouting these days." Her smile was a wry one as she pointed to another iron chair father off then open her palm in invitation.

Now there was no mistaking the sparkle in her eyes. It was mirth. "Won't you sit with me?" She invited.