Oct 14 2019, 07:34 PM
Pride lay quiet, lazing with awkwardly-curled legs across the once-red stone of the Throne. He didn't often merely lay about; usually he was practicing magic, or testing theories, or wandering the caves. Otherwise he'd be grazing or warmly accompanying his family in Eridanus. Today, though, something about the newly-dry air and the chill winds left him languid, even drowsy.
Livius had left him--for now--in charge of the Seven. But there was no Seven. There was hardly anyone, in fact; Orion had been eerily quiet, eerily empty, and now, too, strangely dim and cool. It felt like some autumn he'd never known, and this was doubled by the drift of browning leaves from the very few trees that had been grown here by the Kingdom of Eridanus.
At the top of the Throne's back, and on the massive armrests and scattered about it, lay the bones of Reseda. The komodo dragon--one who had been nothing but a threat to the members of the Seven, and beyond--had been killed in a battle between himself, Amazon and Livius, and Reseda. He had left her bones piled beside the throne for a cycle before at last using his magic to place them lying about it, a display--a warning--for any of those who might threaten the Seven again.
...If there were a Seven to threaten.
Crownless steward for an empty kingdom, the stag lay silent, dozing in his diamond armor. Between his forelimbs dozed the little white arctic hare, as sleepy as he, and as quiet.