The Royal Meeting (Semi-Closed)

It never really struck the King on how his new position gave him so much more freedom, and restricted him to a high extent. To be judged by the Council, his dragons that he ruled, and even his own army. It never struck him to feel the loss of the fight, of scrambling to gain control over the barren kingdom, to bring happiness and peace. Either to be vicious in his rule, thirsting for power or to rule the dragons with calm and peaceful manner, for he did not know what would be best. The dragons of the Xoyans were powerful, hungry for war, and for the right King or Queen to bring their kind to power, to prosperity. Haven took a vow long ago to be that King. To be that ruler, to overcome old ancient history and bring the Xoyans to a new Era. With this power comes great responsibility. Haven didn't have any trouble with crushing others under the weight of his power, his sheer strength and intelligence. He would be one of the most feared and respected tribal leaders out there, for he hoped.

Haven quickly walked down the hall, his talons clicking loudly against the cold stone. It was just before sunrise, the birds slowly waking to sing their songs. Guards stood at attention as he went by, his muscles slowly warming to his fast pace. He would take a fly around the castle this morning, shaking the uneasiness of a far off volcanic eruption. It had put most tribes in a panic, and hopefully the news wouldn't spread too quickly in his kingdom. The halls were quiet and empty, still to be filled with the bodies of servants, guards, and guests still lingering from his Coordination Announcement. He pushed open the vast doors that framed the town below him, the sun's rays finally hitting the tops of the roof tips of the dens. His breath billowed out before him as he let out a deep sigh. The kingdom was just waking, this was the most beautiful part of the day. The two guards who were stationed at the front of the castle bowed lowly, awaiting approval to rise once more. Haven moved to the top stair, his talons hanging over the rocky step, clenching it as his wings opened, the wind grasping his wings almost instantly.
"With me." He commanded, bending his front legs before powerfully pushing off into the sky, his wings beating at the air, defying gravity as he spiraled up into the atmosphere. His breath puffed before his snout as his breath quickened. He made a sharp right, tail swinging naturally to keep his balance. Circling the castle slowly, he eyed all of his surroundings, dragons looking up to see who was already flying about, to realize it was their King.

He stayed up in the sky for a few hours, exercising his wings, loosening the stiffness from his night. The kingdom was awake now, the sun softly beating down upon the towns. Haven gestured toward the ground, landing back in front of the castle and walking inside. He walked along the corridors again, this time followed by multiple guards. He swept into a large room, in the center was a large stone table, carved with such elegance it nearly took the attention away from his entrance. Many Council Dragons were huddled around the table, mumbling among themselves before standing, bowing to the King. The table itself presented an impressive physical map of the world, where each tribe was taking their stay, and where his armies were. A large obsidian throne was at the head of this establishment. The room was well lit with a sun roof, lighting the map up like a box of treasure. He reached his throne and sat, resting his head in his talons for a moment before flicking his tail for the rest of the dragons to sit as well.
"Report on the front lines." He said, his voice deep and soft, thick and powerful along the stone walls, reverberating back to his ears.
"Well, your Majesty," Began a dragon with many scars, even more than Haven. The Manager of the Armies. "Your armies are doing very well, few skirmishes along the boarder since you become King."
"Good." Haven would say, leaning forward to move some pieces along the map, "We move the Eastern Armies to the North a ways. Blocking the entrance of any Rouges coming even close to the vicinity of the borders. " He gave commands, speaking with the Council Dragons for much more time.
"Your Highness..." Spoke a dragon with polished scales, the head of the Hunting Parties, "We'd like to expand our hunting grounds, the animals are straying farther and farther..."
Haven huffed, looking at the map and the territory.
"Do what is necessary." He responded, looking toward the territory of the Ki'Sha. "Any news from the Ki'Sha?" Haven asked, the Council Dragons look at one another, not sure what to say on the topic.
"Well, for now the request for your alliance still has to be replied to." The Manager of Armies stated, fiddling with his talons. "But the message got through, that is for certain."
Haven let the silence drawn on until it was overwhelming. The Council Dragons talked much more, approving on what moves to and not to take. He let out a breath, smoke slowly creeping through the clay map, dissolving them slowly, like fog in a forest, until it reached the Ki'Sha territory and dispersed. The meeting was over, the Council knew what to do now. Unspoken words were exchanged with glances to the King. Haven took his leave, sweeping out of the room to head for the Throne Room. There, he would meet with a dragon that would either change his rule, or destroy it...

Remus Dieter Apollinaire was a miserable, cold-blooded snake, naturally. It was practically a Xoyan birthright to be, at very least, somewhat malevolent and treacherous. Apollinaire, however, took it to zealous extremes; perhaps to the extent of sadistry. You see, dear Remus was obsessed with violence. He was not deranged (though that was disputable- “disturbed” was more appropriate) and he certainly did not commit atrocities (he was a man of law). To put it frankly, the dragon had a perversion for conflict and his warmongering proved to cause quite a lot of it.

It was unorthodox to think that after being put into shell-shock by war that he would wish to inflict it, much less be lusted by it. And yet it seemed the trauma only fed his anger and frustration, which he unleashed unto others- although, that was not to say it didn’t distress him.

Schweineköpfe. Apollinaire thought resentfully, as he puffed plumes of hot ash over his head. Why summon me if you are to have me wait? Earlier he had been invited to the throne room for a most important discussion regarding a most prestigious title, though it appeared they were not yet ready to see him, which threatened his patience. After having been turned away, Apollinaire was politely (and cautiously) escorted to an adjacent room. It was there he now waited- although impatiently- at the foot of a crackling fireplace.

It’s incandescence cast a saturated glow that flushed his otherwise stern and unanimated expression, his eyes capturing the flame under their glassy luster. He stared hard into the smoldering hearth, his face stiffening. The eerie solitude of the room and the soft hissing of the fire made him restless. What could possibly be taking so terribly long? Surely they were expecting him.. Apollinaire grunted disdainfully, spewing embers from his nostrils. If they didn’t show their ugly mugs soon..

A voice from behind him abruptly interrupted his thoughts. “The king is available to see you now, sir.” , it spoke.

Remus growled sharply. “Took you long enough..” With a sigh and a heave, he rose to his feet, his mountainous frame contoured by the blaze behind him. He shouldered his way out of the room, brushing briskly past the guard who rushed to move out of his way. As he moved into more visible light, his appearance became more apparent. The brute was enormous, perhaps a result of gigantism, his muscles well-defined even under heavy plating of scales which were a stark and tenebrous obsidian. Though perhaps most notable- second to his overbearing size- were his ghastly burns, which were, oddly enough, covering an entire side of his body and unsightly indeed.

The guard kept pace beside Apollinaire and lead him toward the entrance to the throne room, stopping to hold the door open, careful not to test his ever short temper. Apollinaire stepped through the entryway and bowed without even glancing forward. Humility... It leaves such a bitter taste in the mouth.

“My liege… I believe we have unattended matters to discuss..”

Haven stared down at the male that came before him, his face half hidden by a shadow that was created by the window, and his other half was engulfed in a thick smoke that billowed out of his open mouth. He lay across his throne regal matter, his left front forearm crossed over his other. Haven's red eyes glowed and thrummed to the rhythm of his heart. He always thought of it funny that his eyes were red, and yet his whole body produced a purple hue to it. The slits on his neck were open, showing his heart and internal organs. He breathed out, and they closed. The guard bowed and closed the enormous door behind them. Haven flicked his tail back and forth, sitting there like a snake ready to strike and kill. He let the male, who's name was Apollinaire, speak and bow before him. Two guards stood at attention to Haven's left and right. The sun was nearly ready to set, the room filling with a blood red. It was eerily quiet before Haven spoke, his voice booming across the space that distanced the two powerful males. "Greetings, Apollinaire." He spoke, tilting his head slightly forward, "I assume you do not know why you are here?"

Haven slowly got up, his size matching his voice. He rose like a mountain, wings extending, filling the room with his presence and influence over the guards who seemed to shrink inside their scales as Haven slowly walked forward. He was quite a large dragon, and his commanding stature made the room feel almost stuffy with tension. His steps would tremble the throne room. He let out a series of low chuffs (found on Haven's bio when you click on his roar) and deep growls. Haven himself had many scars from battle, being the General for most of his life, it was typical for a dragon his age and his position to have such things littered along his body. His scales shifted color as light hit them, purple and black shimmering colors on the wall. He approached the male to look him over, his eyes piercing the other as if inspecting an exotic bug. His muscles rippled as he stopped, bending his neck down to become eye level with the other male. "I'm looking for an apprentice. A dragon to look over the Kingdom with me, but not against me. Many of my spies have told me about you, and I want to see if it's true." Haven took a deep breath, his sail slowly filling with blood, flaring color into it. "Follow me if you will." Haven spoke, his voice low and gravely, "I'd like to see you do something for me." Haven walked by the other male, a scent of fresh blood wafting around Apollinaire, seeing a fresh wound on Haven's side. The guards followed, quietly ushering Apollinaire to follow.

(Eugh. Looking at it now, my last post was the worst; so terrible and rushed. Sorry about that.)

Remus Apollinaire would not be modest. Modesty was simply not in his nature. And now was no exception, even now as he faced his ruler and depending on who you might ask- oppressor. The king’s proposal did little to surprise him. In fact, he had suspected the intention to his summoning before it had even begun. It was no secret that Apoll had been of interest to his lordship for a while, certainly anyone so bold wouldn’t go unnoticed. In civilized society, secrets never remained so- at least not for long. He tilted his snout downward, rolling his eyes upward to track Haven’s movements shrewdly, taking note to regard his expression as his cynical gaze looked him up and down. They were practically butting heads as he moved in to examine him, but Apoll stood his ground stubbornly. Urgh. This big-head clearly doesn’t understand personal boundaries.. How irritating. He thought scornfully, wrinkling his nose in annoyance. Determined to make it clear he was no pushover, he locked eyes with Haven, aggressively maintaining eye-contact with a steely, unblinking glare.

Remus remained steadfast, keeping his dauntless stance until Haven spoke, gesturing him to follow and moved away. The ever obstinate ruffian was hopeful that they had gotten the message; his superior or not, Remus wouldn’t stand being overborne. Though almost reluctant, he trailed Haven closely, shaking his head and letting out a low, guttural grumble. It was undoubtedly going to be a test of his combat ability, which pleased him. Raw power and brute strength was something he was practically infamous for. Certainly a quick scuffle would assure this conceited hoity-toity that he were more than capable, he thought arrogantly. Though Apoll was observant enough to notice an open wound on their side as they turned away. Explains the smell.. He recalled the hot, pungent stench he had caught wind of when he entered the throne room. What have you been up to? He echoed doubtfully. Apollinaire was already dubious of his emperor and was quick to assume the worst. He drifted away from detestful brooding rather, quickly, however and refixated himself on the topic at hand. His thick, armored neck held low as he lumbered at pace behind Haven, his broad shoulders sauntering in long, hulking strides. His impatience grew as his his eagerness did.

Haven slightly looked over his shoulder, seeing the other male that followed. He slowed his own pace to match with Apollinaire. A devilish smirk was on his face as he guided the other down the steep steps of the castle down to the city below. They would walk into town, Haven's eyes glancing back and forth from door to door. Four guards accompanied them, dragons cheering and bowing. A small dragonet ran up to Haven, "Hello your majesty!" She would squeak, bursting into a series of giggles before handing Haven a flower. She got the eye of Apollinaire, shrieked a little bit, and ran back to her mother, a beautiful dark grey dragoness who gave a polite bow and shuttled her hatchling away. Haven glanced at the flower between his talons. The flower was a golden yellow, and smaller than his talon. He stuck it to one of his shoulder blades, tail flicking as his nature was more relaxed. Dragons smiled and bowed as they passed, Haven waving a wing or two toward them. He rose a crested brow toward Apollinaire, Haven's long slender tail swishing back and forth. They kept going, into the heart of the town, some streets being more active than others. Flowers were tossed from windows, dragons of all ages running up to the king to press a hug to his legs (they were so small) or to give him gifts. He talked to many dragons, giving blessings. The guards weren't really there to protect the two, they were there to carry and hold some of the things the king was given. They headed to more high ground, a large hill that overlooked the city, a city that was now starting to glow as dragons lit their lanterns.

Haven nestled into the soft grass, laying with his wings extended gracefully. Haven let the sounds of the city settle, not speaking for a moment. "These dragons are my responsibility. I brought you here to see that. Haven then turned to the male, this was the challenge, not to murder a dragon, or test his fighting abilities.... But to show him what his responsibility would be some day, to protect his kind and his dragons. To bring peace to the kingdom. This wasn't really a trip that the other male would particularly like, Haven hoped he would, but you never know. "Commanding an army and a Kingdom is not only about fighting, or brutal strength. It's about protecting the dragons that rely on you, to show them peace and tranquility. That is why the war has not come here, and that is why I have made my kingdom a safe place." Haven looked back over the city, taking a deep breath. "I am not worried about what you possess, physical wise, but more of what your character is. I had my inspectors tell me much about you, tomorrow we shall begin the sessions. If you would be accepting, I shall claim you as my apprentice."