Summer's heat beamed furociously down upon the majority of Alacritis, but this far north the air was still cool and snow still cloaked the ground. The marble wash stretched out before the young man as cold peridot eyes gazed intently at the veins of color that twisted and ebbed their way through the stone. He was in a sour mood. Darkness tugged and twisted at his brain as his maw wrinkled in anger. Sal'krie? his best friend? had abandoned him. Tossed him out like trash just as his mother had. The fury had long since eaten away at his insides until he simply felt cold and hollow. Things had been looking up. He'd finally gained the recognition of the alpha, even if he hadn't gained that of his father's though it was hard to tell. He was now an Overseer of Glaciem. And he fully intended to direct the ambitions of his peers to the future of the pack.


But for now he needed a moment to compose himself. He'd been working on letting her go but she'd dug her way so deep in his heart that when he'd ripped her from himself it'd left a terrible scar. It burned. Drashiel sighed deeply allowing his limbs to relax for a moment before he took to his paws.


"Speech"

ooc: I marked it all open in case anyone wanting to join Glaciem wanted to jump in but please not that trespassers may be treated very harshly.

Swaying movement would form a silvery crease upon the ghoul?s vision; the unfolding perfection of the marble wash seemingly tainted by the presence of a wavering figure, encompassed by the brilliant gold?s that surrounded him. Tragically bored, the former King?s nostrils would quiver, skull lifting as slender limbs would usher him forwards; it was Drashiel. The boy?s tongue had been foul at the meeting, maladroit and about as waste-infused as Isardis had ever heard one of his children speak, though he had spared the wrath of his disappointment, satisfied that the boys intentions had been high.

Oh how ill health had managed to splinter his bones and peg his toes, fever had stained his mind and caused brash decisions that would forever haunt Glaciem, whether Athena attempted to heal it or not. Though the people were thriving, Isardis couldn?t help but feel despair; a loss for the legacy he had created. The smog had left his intellect when the sickness faded, ruby gaze as highly defined as at were in his younger years, his physical vigour and his determination as immense as ever. So why was he not a King? Alas, within his critical boredom the monster sought the company of the boy without hesitation.

Though Isardis had never been one to bother with the emotions of others, it did not take a psychologist to feel the tension of the youth causing static within the atmosphere that encumbered him; the air that hovered his flesh was no longer a blessing, but a strangling suggestion of his emotional weight. Approaching the boy heedlessly from behind, Isardis would seek to waltz by his spawn?s side at a similar pace, lips flickering with the temptation of humour, ?Even the gods would hear the weight of that sigh, boy,? lungs shuddered as he chuckled weakly, ?What ails you??

Thoughts drifted about him in an aimless cloud. Try as he might he couldn't gather them but that would be of little consequence. Drashiel tensed as he sensed someone behind him. Those seasons of training under their allies Marquis bringing his instincts into full bloom. Fur began to raise before his nostrils caught a scent that slowed his pace. Isardis. Was it really possible. He turned as his father moved alongside him to join him in his walk. Drashiel found it difficult not to stare. The northern king was alive and despite the remnants of his illness he still held a commanding and enigmatic prescence. No matter how much he tried when he was in the prescience of his father he could only help but be in awe. He wanted to learn this. This dangerous elegance that seemed to radiate from his father. The young man chuckled lightly at his father's comment. "Father? it's good to see you up." The question would fall lightly on his ears but it dug deeply at emotions already barely kept in check. "I?" Lower jaw quivered. He had said he'd inform Isardis of Sal'krie's betrayal. "Sal'krie has betrayed Glaciem and left. She was my best friend and she just?left." A growl spilled from his lungs. "Like mother. Just like that bitch." "Speech"

ooc: lecture away! :D

The tawny boy would speak as though he were shocked of the albino?s return; emerald gaze so fixated upon the ruby gape of his father, his attentions relentless, satisfying. There was no greater show of respect than the tedious illumination of the youth?s intellect, than his mind busy and fanatical within the company of his father. ?Don?t sound so surprised Drashiel, no meagre virus can contain me too long,? lips bubbled with bemusement, however the situation would change rapidly; the tension of the youth causing static snapping that ricocheted the air between them.

Poor news, and news well worth being blue, frustrated for; S?alkyrie was a divine babe, even within her youth he bore a passion for her beauty and self-drive. The pair had always managed to withhold a mutual respect, though neither of them had had true good reason to do so. ?S?alkyrie?? he is as shocked within his voice as he is within his mind, pale toes halting beneath him as coral features grow suddenly solemn, aware of the boys reboring features. He is disappointed, frustrated, and it is likely something will be done. ?Did Athena allow her to leave?? though he certainly wouldn?t put it past his daughter to do such a thing, her reign was hardly as disciplined and religious as his own.

?Regardless, we will unearth her isolation and persuade her wavering loyalty that her decision was unwise,? ah, in his former leadership Isardis would not have been quite so forgiving; alas, as much as the ghoul struggled to admit it he didn?t blame the lamb for seeking thrill and belonging elsewhere? Glaciem was no longer the same for Isardis either. Though a few moments would pass that his mind seemed blissfully unaware of the boy?s foul use of words, Isardis? attentions would sway, his features growing suddenly rigid as his hackles threatened to bristle his spine. ?Do you hide your own insecurities behind the foul misuse of your tongue?? pipes quivered, ?No man sheltered within his own being need use such language, you advertise only your lack of royalty and narrow intellect. Nor will I stand to be in the presence of such polluted disrespect?? a single breath, ?Now, if you truly desire S?alkyrie?s existence, you will have to do far more than throw aggravating insults towards a mother you hadn?t the pleasure of knowing. Or are you powerlessly content in being as useless as those you abuse?? and to hell if a son of mine will give in so easily.

Tension still wound itself around the youth's frame, mind and heart both racing. Outwardly he struggled to maintain his shield of cool suavity but he was not yet at the level of his father and the cracks were already starting to show. It felt like a dream. He still did not understand how someone who had professed to love him could leave him so quickly. Especially, right after professing that love. And what had Sal'krie meant that he'd changed? Had that change not been positive? He was well ranked and a skilled fighter. Drashiel had been more confident in himself than ever before, at least until now. Now there was a gnawing doubt chewing at his heart.


Isardis spoke her name and sounded just as shocked as Drashiel had. As fiercely independent as he'd become he had to admit it felt good to talk with his father again. To have some solace that his feelings were at least somewhat shared. "I don't know that Athena knew anything about it. Sal'krie never bothered to show up at the meeting she just? left."


Isardis didn't loose a beat. He immediately began formulating a plan to get Sal'krie back. Drashiel risked a small smile. This was an important lesson. He'd let himself get down about it rather than doing something to fix this issue. The mood though switched as he felt his father grow suddenly rigid. The pale king spoke and Drashiel felt suddenly ashamed, turning his face slightly from the other man. He supposed he had gotten a bit rough around the edges. Especially after training under D?gmar so long. She was brilliant true but crude in her violence? though not quite as vulgar as the brute Hati.


Drashiel brow furrowed. He felt anger at the sting of his father's words but he knew in his heart they were true. However he would never forgive his mother? ever. And as much as he wanted to ask his father about her he decided that was something best kept to himself, at lest for now. "I apologize. It will not happen again. You're right? I've spent too much time training amongst the rogues. I allowed them to rough up my mind as well as my body. However? I am not useless. I've worked to hard to be labeled as such. It may be true that I have not lived up to my potential but I intend to change that." Drashiel turned to face his father, fierce peridot eyes seeking to meet the ruby gaze of his sire. "Father? when you speak the heavens listen, when you growl the mountains quiver. I would seek to learn from you the arts of majesty. Maybe that is what Sal'krie find so lacking in me?"

Isardis had never truly withheld dear relationships with his son?s; for whatever reasons it had always seemed to be his daughters that he lavished in his care, perhaps it was the more doting minds of his female offspring that drew them so close? Regardless, his son?s still loitered his mind as much as any other babe? though it seemed the men of the Armada family were far more likely to stray. He wonders silently what it is that has kept Drashiel close to Glaciem, whether loyalty is the key makings of his mind, or if he simply holds an ambitious wit, an unwavering perception.

The ghouls temples are a flurry of spotlight and focused aptitude; he is sharp, dedicated, striving, but most importantly Isardis is relentless. It would be that key quality that would have made him such a powerful King in his time. Athena had lured him into the prospect of excitement, led him to believe her ambition was second to none. It had been almost unnatural to place a woman atop his throne, though at the time it seemed the wisest option. She is a sovereign and no less, alas she has much to learn, and Isardis is far from satisfied.

Drashiel will show a potency for trainability, an open mind that may have strayed in the scarce upbringing of his father but he bares a forgiving respect for the man who has sired him. Isardis listens closely to his words, but it is not the syllables themselves that are exhilarating, but the purpose behind them. In the moment the duo-toned youth speaks of his worship, Isardis is tempted by the tutored structures of his luminous intellect; though he is not please the boy has been training with mere rogues. The assembly suddenly gains more purpose, ?And do you seek to be a King?? he marvels silently what the answer may prove to be.

Silence fell gently between them for a moment before Isardis asked a question that Drashiel hardly expected. It fell on his ears like thunder and for a moment he wondered if he'd even heard the question correctly or if perhaps his father was joking with him. But no? he was serious. Peridot eyes narrowed just slightly, as he sought to seek out any hidden meaning in the question.


"And do you seek to be a King?"


Honestly, the thought had never seemed an attainable dream. He was a random offshoot of Isardis' blood. He bore no relation to any of the Queens Isardis had taken and he had many to choose from, Sendoa's offspring, Argent's? Drashiel had seen himself as being so far removed from the throne that he had deemed the thought unnecessary fantasy. But the throne was Athena's now so what did the answer to that question matter? Or was Isardis perhaps displeased with Athena? Or? perhaps it was Vereux that he was displeased with. Surely there was more to the question than mere curiosity. Isardis always had a purpose in what he did and said, of that Drashiel was certain.


But there was another, perhaps even more alarming word in that question. Seek. What was it that Drashiel was seeking, that he wanted? He supposed part of him still yearned for the approval of his father but that was a childish, whimpering part of him he did not seek to indulge further. Sal'krie. Yes. He did desire that woman both as a friend and as a lover though his love was quickly twisting into something more lustful, held at bay only by the hope she would come to her senses and return to him. Ultimately though, the thing he craved with a biting hunger was respect and acknowledgement. He craved power. Power in the ability to have his words carry weight, to be able to create change and stir others to action. Well then? what was a king?


"What I seek can barely be summed up in a title. However? I do crave the respect and acknowledgement of my peers as well as my lessers. And I do seek to have my words and actions carry the weight of mountains. So yes? I suppose I do seek to be a king. That is one way to obtain my desires." The words fell from his lips. steady, even and honest. It felt unusually to voice his wants so to his father but at the same time it felt satisfying. "Is there a reason you ask me this question, father?"

So quick he has been to regather a sense of possession about the boy, cherry lips quivering with mounting stimulation as his toes creep him just one step closer. He watches the boy as his emerald gaze ponders, admires the ticking clockwork that rotated behind the pupils of his youthful son. Isardis chuckles weakly, fragile bubbling becoming no more than a decided gurgle beneath the flesh of his pale throat, ?There is reason behind all I say and do,? his lips will wander the reaches of his mind for but a moment, before he seeks to take a step onward; to continue to saunter nonchalantly, seamlessly in the direction the duo had previously guided their pointed toes. ?Then you will become a King,? he says it as though such revelations occur daily, though it is a rarity for the albino ghoul, and he well and truly knows it. ?No longer do you train with Rogue?s, Drashiel; of course, you may best them, learn from their demise; but do not absorb their word,? now you are mine. His rubies find their way back to the child, an exuberant sensation light within his ribcage, ?You train with me now.?

A crackling chuckle emerges from the pale emperor's throat and the note of fragility does not escape Drashiel's ears. Such notes do not suit his father. Yet, Drashiel hopes that Isardis will return to full strength soon and that all traces of the disease will swiftly fade. He does not like seeing the man he seeks to emulate in such a condition. But then, the Armada were not easily slain.


"Then you will become a King."


There was something veiled in those words, something the yearling could not quite grasp but he cast the feeling aside. He would become a King. And he would show those that sought to deny him that he was a creature of great worth. A dragon amongst wolves. To be respected and awed, not cast away and forgotten. He would become legend. He would not slip quietly away into the cruel night and would leave the stain of his sweat and blood upon the earth of Alacritis.


"No longer do you train with Rogue?s, Drashiel; of course, you may best them, learn from their demise; but do not absorb their word,"


The boy nodded. He'd tasted the flesh of rogues and now it was time for something sweeter. He had trained with his brother Raw as well as the Marquis of Arcanum. Roman had offered to train him as well in the arts of battle before the plague had invaded her body. They had allies now, numerous ones and it would be in the interest of their triumvirate to learn from one another.


?You train with me now.?


Fire seemed to coat his words and Drashiel felt it. That spark, that deadly flame that made his father so feared. A jolt of excitement jarred through him his maw curving into a grin though that was the only show he made. He would keep his composure out of respect for his sire and act as a disciplined student to his new master. He was to learn and his being would be put into that task.


"I am ready, father. What is the first thing you ask of me?"


"Speech"