[IC] MxM Royalty (Mikki and Tenebrae16 )

[Mikki]

How had it come to this?

Weary were the mint-pigmented eyes that slide across to his right-hand side, orbs that had seen more than the human mind could ever think of baring, and survived the trials that such a tediously long life-span tested the Dragons with. Yao Long was Emperor, everyone who took interest in a world knew this. The middle aged man that sat with one leg crossed upon his throne, fingers braced to his chin and with long, brunette hair pulled back into a lax, darping style, a picture of elegence when he was depicted in the emerald and spring stitchings of his Han-Fu, idly fanning himself with the spread, wooden etchings of a coiling beast, one he, like his son beside him, could relate to. In the silence of the golden pillars and marbelled flooring, a multitude of jade and precious colours, the two thrones sat in eager waiting.

"Promise me you will behave, Jin-Wei. Assure me there will be none of your childish frivolities whilst our guest remains in the palace." A voice of command, and respect, but not to the young man who stared ahead, towards the double-doors of their throne-room. Jin-Wei had grown mildly handsome in his youth, with hair akin to his fathers pigments that reached his neck and broadening shoulders. Stoic and astute was the expression worn at all times... but it was all in the eyes. Saffron golds with a spike for a pupil, alive and very much animal. These royal facades that sat, awaiting their guests, were nothing more than animals at the end of the day. Civilized reptiles.

"I don't make promises I can't keep, Baba."

A voice befitting a sleek reptilian, the words were soft and almost whispered, but the words spoke volumes themselves. Baba, the more informal choice of a Father-suffix, and the disregard for his elders fears did not sit well with the old Emperor. Five thousand years, and this was how his son treated him?

SMACK.

The searing sensation of a palm across his cheek, the scorn behind it palpable in the air, Jin-Wei sucked air through his teeth and naturally recoiled further right from his Father's hastened scolding, his own, honey-toned finger tips resting softly on a reddening mark across his face. Yao had not seemed to have even moved, let alone glance in his son's direction, eyes intent on the door-way, awaiting the gaurds that would escort their guest. "Then you will learn to ensure to keep the promises you make. Sit up straight, your posture is disgraceful."

[tenebrae16]

"I promise to be back soon Mother, Father." The cool dirt pressed up against his forehead, clinging to his hair as if refusing to let him go. Very gently, he combed through the auburn locks, catching the damp soil on his fingers and ushering it back to the earth like a protesting child to bed. Coaxing and coddling and whispering sweet little nothings to soothe it's excited nervous mind. Tucking that sweet sleepy rambling child back into the folds of the earth and lingering knelt by it's bedside until it's own ever changing thoughts subsided into that of dreams and it's breathing slowed into a lullaby of it's own. And one looks upon such a child and understands why they put up with it's incessant demands and sporadic outbursts, with every tantrum and crying session. One understands why it's so worth going through all the hardships and..sadly, one wonders....

"My Prince. It is time you be off if we wish to reach the kingdom in time."

Burning ember eyes, carrying the essence of fall and traces of golden maple leaves, flickered over to the petite servant. Eying him with a gaze hotter so intense that the poor fae was forced to bow his head lower in fear of having his icicles melted. It was then, Amanti turned away and back to the sodden earth before him. Dirt caked nails gently patting it back down around the roots of the single blossom springing up from the ground. It's tenuous petals victim to the slightest breeze. With the touch of a mother, he cupped it's sepal, running his fingertips lightly the delicate leaves as a final farewell. The kiss of airy petals stil lingering against his lips as he pulled away and bid the earth farewell.

"Let us depart then, Calixo. I do not wish to keep the emperor waiting." He voiced solemnly, refusing to offer one final glance back in case the soft breeze roped him back or the fragrance of the earth lured him to return.

He'd be back soon before the earth could forget his footsteps.
----------

"Huang Di! The prince of the Fae have arrived!"

The messenger bowed low to his emperor, announcing the arrival moment before the great hinged doors swung open, allowing light to flood into the main court room, illuminating the golden tapestries and dancing along the marbeled floor around the harsh shape of the silhouetted figure. A cool breeze trickling in to play with the loose ragged cloth wrapped around his shoulders. The sunlight setting alight the moon lit hair atop his head.

The sound of his bare feet across the marble echoed as he stepped forward, keeping his gaze fixed upon the space above the grand throne. And his ears focused on something other than the roaring of blood in his ears as he let his knee hit the floor. Icy air leaving him as he bowed, "Emperor.."

[Mikki]

"Straighten. Your. Posture."

Yao's eye could have been violently twitching from the stress surged from his child, the one in the crimson duangua tied by a golden sash, a sleeveless version of the shirt, of course. Why couldn't that boy wear proper, fitting attire, especially on a day like today. Slowly, the boy relented, and saw to it that his back slid up the eloquence of his throne until it pressed firmly against the padded cushions. Was the old man happy now? Here was Jin-Wei, sitting all prim and proper, as a Prince should, but his elder still appeared scorned. No changes there, then.

An announcement?

Well, that saw both golds and jade depths rise-- and almost comically squint when the light blessed the room with luminance, proof of their sensitive and likely well developed optics. "Prince of the Fae..." Yao whispered silently to his own ears, curiosity of this new-comer seemed to alert his mind and body, which without his consent seemed to have arrived at the edge of his cushioned throne. Jin-Wei seemed less enthusiastic-- likely because he was sure to get the worst end of this deal. This, all of this, was trouble for himself. Grandeur opening aside, both Prince and Emperor seemed bemused the moment their shadow of a guest came into full-view.

Was... that truly a Prince of Fae?

Yao's mouth was momentarily ajar. If he hadn't known better, one could have assumed the guards had thrown in a particularly handsome peasant and called it a day. On the suddenly rare chance that this male was indeed a Prince, the Elder Dragon decided to bite his tongue-- too bad that his son didn't share the same mannerisms. "You look like a beggar. To think that I was scolded for my fashion choice, but you've certainly won the tackiest-royal award. You didn't even kow-tow." Mortifying! Emperor Yao leapt from his throne with a glare of vert-death sent his son's way. The more steps he took towards the Fae, the more grateful he was to be out of ear-shot of that little devil-spawn he called son.

"Pay that child no heed. He is an ignorant hatchling. Prince Amanti, I assume?" Atleast there was something of grace to their... eccentric guest. He'd be perfect to teach Jin-Wei social grace-- fashion sense, perhaps not so much. The jade orbs that the Emperor looked from seemed to scrutinize their new-comer, his face spoke volumes of his personality. A strict man. A tired father. A commanding emperor. "We have quarters prepared for you, by the lake-side view of the palace. I urge you not to travel there alone, Prince Amanti, the creatures that dwell in the water are unlike any you will find on land. Hopefully the view will quell your curiosity. We shall have a feast tonight, in your honour, but until then, my... son... will show you around the palace and to your room-- should you need anything, he'll attend to you."

...Hint hint, Jin-Wei. He barely seemed interested anymore-- bored of jesting this 'Prince' and his attire. Reptilian sunshine lulled over like a moody-teenager, and in all rights, he was one. Slip on shoes tapped against the floor whilst the Dragon Prince pulled his baggy, white and silken trousers up his waist a little more. Comfortable, but not all that practical. "Come on then. I thought I'd be stuck sitting in that chair, you took forever." That, or his royal bratness was impatient. Given by how he was bee-lining for the grand doors, likely the latter.

[tenebrae16]

There was something to be said about kneeling before the draconic Emperor; not many had the pleasure, but many had had the misfortune. Amanti was grateful that he could kneel without fear though without paranoia was a different matter. For if he in his own right could be called a prince, then he was in the presence of divine rulers. But there was a saying that went without speech and was known almost jokingly in all the realm,

"A fae always knows their place."

And be he Prince or King or God given child, Amanti very well knew his place before the man he had travelled innumerable footsteps and traversed countless hurdles to meet. And so ironically, his task had only begun now from the moment he set foot onto the cool marbled floor of the Emperor's court. He hadn't expected him to start off with such a bad note.

A sharp scathing tongue slicing through the silence made his heart still as his gaze darted over to the tawny youth sat rather leering upon his own bejeweled seat. Meeting his gold specked gaze briefly with the beginnings of summer in his own moonlit eyes before the prince hurriedly averte his gaze and bowed his head. Understanding that meeting such a gaze could incite predatory instincts or come off as rude. Still, he filed away such a comment away.

Turning his attention back to the older royal as he approached him. Standing on attention, he bowed once more lowly, voice soft and airy compared to the gruff command that the Emperor spoke with, "Yes, Emperor, but please, there is no excuse to be made for the state of my attire, but it was a long journey from my own home to here and in my haste I have neglected my own apparel. As for my behaviour, forgive me for the young lord is quite correct. I fear I am not well acquainted with the mannerisms of your kingdom. Forgive me if I offend without intention. I hope not to make amends with material offerings, but from my people I have brought gifts for you."

And from his withered clock, he revealed a miniature chest made of twisted roots curled around each other in the vague form of a box. A greenish hue embedded in it's vines hinting at the life that remained within the vines. One could call the craftsmanship impeccable, but the fae were known for their simple but beautiful works of natural art. The miniature chest had been made with care though, the roots smoothed and polished to a gleam and trimmed with soft shimmering minerals pulled from the earth to the light of day. That wasn't the main gift, however, as Amanti pressed his thumbs to the lid and slid out a compartment, revealing the hollow inner compartment and the gnarled greenish blue root that rested upon the velvet moss inside. Bubbles of dried sap along it's surface. With both hands, he held it out to the emperor.

"This is a precious root from the Eldritch tree, the symbolism of our people. It is known for being a potent medicine. I wish you good health and longevity." He said solemnly until one of the Emperor's servants slinked from the shadows towards him and offered to take the box from him. He supposed that it was custom not to hand things to the Emperor. He best get up to speed onthe mannerisms before he risked making some unforgivable misstep.

Bowing once more to the man, he turned and repeated the action to the younger, keeping his gaze to the ground at another cutting comment from the youth's mouth. He bit down on his lip, feeling his canine chew into the edge of his lip.

"I am grateful for your accommodations me the guide and I look forward to sampling your exquisite cuisine. I pray we may be able to discuss more serious matters later." He bid a goodbye to the Emperor before he pulled his hood up over his head and followed the appointed guide.

[Mikki]

"Believe this, his ignorance offends me far more than anything you suspect yourself of doing, Prince Amanti. I must commend you on your mannerisms, perhaps you would be so kind as to allow your well-mannered nature to rub off on my son." Those words were spoken with a smile, a false one. There was nothing joyous or elated in his joke, simply because it wasn't one. Yao Long disdained his heir to the throne, feared for his Kingdom, and now, he worried for this Prince. Was it really going to be alright, to leave their guest in the hands of his troublesome spawn? Nagging pondering was cut short at the mention of material offerings-- not that Yao was particularly grubby... but it was a fact that the Dragons were hoarders. Of everything. Money, books, chests of twisted root-- chest of twisted roots? The wooden box that was procured from a tattered cloak met the gentle scrutiny of aged jades, as if they apprised an antique. Truthfully, Yao loved the works of artisans, and the style of the Fae, of nature and her energy, one could say it appealed to the old Emperor.

Even if he did find it almost confrontational to be given a gift at once. He couldn't blame the lad, he obviously didn't know that for him to accept the gift at once would, for one reason or another, shine poorly on one's mannerisms. How thankful he was for one of his serf's to take it for him. That odd, medicinal item was a root? It seemed more befitting of an art gallery than his quarters-- would it seem outlandish to display such a thing? Decisions, decisions. A hand waved off, robes swaying in the momentum of his grand gesture. "Have it sent to my room, I shall display it on my mirrored dresser, where I may admire it from any angle I please." Hopefully knowing it would be accepted as a permanent centre-piece would please the Prince. "I thank you, Prince Amanti. I'll see to it you don't leave my Kingdom unsatisfied." The Emperor's motion was unspeakably brisk to the poor serf who was idly polishing the floor a good few metres away-- shouldn't that have been done earlier? "You there! See to it that Prince Amanti receives our... latest aesthetic, in return for his gift."

Consider Yao pleased! The gifts he often got were monetary-- or worse, JADE. Always JADE with the peasants... for once, he actually got something that seemed personal! Yes! Yao was very happy with that! Their Fae would receive his latest addition to the palace.

Jin-Wei, less so much. "You gave him a bit of a tree. That's got to be a first." Clearly, Emperor and Son did not share tastes. The young prince was already slinking to the door, since his presence had been all but unwanted from the beginning, and the way the boy moved belied his stature. For a male who barely reached five foot and six inches, there was a certain command to his posture. Straight backed, tanned fingers curled into a palm with the mild swing of his fists. He was a large creature, trapped temporarily in a humans body, and his body language simply screamed that fact. Head held high, the young Prince made certain to barge his shoulder into the Fae guest with a few, quiet words to go with it. "You might have won my Father over with your humble act and fancy box, but you won't sidle up to me as easily. You're in my turf, now."

Footsteps were taken away from the throne hall, he had a show to catch in a few minutes.

"And I'll enjoy every moment of it."

It was a silent promise, but it's intentions unmistakable. Jin-Wei would surely make life Hell, given the chance to. The guide, a mere girl in her sixteenth year, fumbled amidst her red attire, draping, with long, overly so, sleeves. "...You would do well not to cross the Crowned Prince Jin-Wei Long, Prince of the Fae's. If you confront him, he can cause real trouble for you whilst you remain in his future Kingdom." Damned if you do, damned if you don't, that was the way of it. The dark haired guide toddled along the marbled steps, outside was truly glorious. Sunlight that kissed over the pillars and open plan of a garden, nothing grew there yet, nothing but grass and evergreen shrubbery, but it would truly be a bloom to remember, come the warmer months. "This way, Prince. The Emperor must favour you, to be giving away his latest decoration for your eyes to see. He came in last night, after the guards found him washed ashore." The Emperor? Washed ashore? Didn't sound quite right, did it? Pillars passed, ivory columns that held up pagoda roofs of draconic gargoyles, golden trimmings and crimson roof-plates. The harlequin flooring seemed to stretch on forever until a door remained at the end of it, etched oak with, once more, the symbol of dragons. Too bad that ebony ink had been, as it seemed, freshly slathered across the doorway in the shape of an X. "...It would seem Prince Jin-Wei has decided to target you already, Prince. Shall I alert the Emperor?" Even his guide did not seem too certain on the course of action. Yes, Yao Long would be FURIOUS, but... that would only spur their mischievous Prince onwards.

[tenebrae16]

Such a stark contrast there was between the humble Prince of Fae from lands far away and the extravagantly dressed Emperor; glorified in all of his kingly garb. It was hardly even a comparison between his tattered weathered brown cloth and bare feet to silken robes and satin weaves shoes made with the deft fingers of the most skilled tailor. Amanti believed, that even the servants wondered what this poorly dressed commoner was doing within this almost sacred ground; the capital of their kingdom, the housing of their Emperor and Royal family. He could sense it really, not in just the hostility that the crown prince seemed to exude towards him.

There had been..a feeling of alienation merely walking through the dusty streets of this imperial realm. The people had known, perhaps from his bare feet and the distinct coloration of his eyes and hair or perhaps just the atmosphere and aura radiating around him (then again it might've something to do with the puddles of water on the ground turning to ice where he stepped). However they had known, they had known and even if they had known him a prince, he doubted they would've acted any less indifferent towards him or given him any less number of belittling looks.

The fae were lesser creatures compared to many, let alone that of the prideful and magnificent creatures that were dragons, and more over; they were often considered the 'push overs' or 'weaklings' of the realm. Their own passive nature didn't help them very much either. Nobody else understood how dire such a situation was for the fae when the other species around you were so willing and able and 'nonchalant' about destroying everything you had strived, tilled, bled and lived centuries atop centuries for. No one understood the value of the fae like the fae did. And only the fae..

That was the entire reason he had come here, seeking protection; another cowardly act, but who would question it if they were able to receive protection from the most fearsome of all creatures?

Sweeping his robe, or what little there was of it, aside, he bowed low again to the Emperor, "Thank you, I am greatly humbled to receive such a welcoming personable gift and to know that you are pleased with the gift of my own people, but I will be more than ecstatic if I can merely leave here with better relations established between us."

The same wish was true for the young crown prince who shoved past him, though he was less optimistic about accomplishing that any time soon. Somewhat coldly (pun), he was glad that from what he had seen so far, the Emperor didn't seem all that close to his son, perhaps it wouldn't matter too much if he didn't get into the good graces of his son. At least, not until the boy took over, but that wouldn't be for a long time hopefully. He kept silent all the sme and averted his gaze as the prince stormed past.

He had more to worry about than a frigid (another pun) prince though. Some would have been awed by the grandeur of the spectacular castle he was led through. It's architecture would've made any generation of builders cry and the prospect of staying here would excite anyone to an immeasurable amount, but the fae felt a chill go down his spine as he followed the serf down the hallway. Even the wide spread garden called out to him hoarsely, rising eagerly at his entrance; neglected hallow entities that reached out despairingly as he left them behind. Their cries raking along his flesh, for the ground was selfish at times and yearned for summer sooner. And he would've been more than happy to grant it be it not for the chill of the marble beneath his feet and the callous realm of minerals he entered. The carved stone beasts seemed to leer down at him from their precarious perches. The patterns along the floor before him seemed to wind and twist; delirious. A greater being could appreciate it, but not he.

Tryingly, he focused on the chatter of his guide, even if she was only bringing up problems he'd already addressed in his mind. He decided it was best not to start any ill talk behind the Prince's back so he kept mum. Unable to continue doing the same, however, when mention of the Emperor came up, "Ah, washed ashore?" He repeated, raising a brow before they came across the ink splattered door. Definitely a crude display of the disdain over his arrival. Was the Prince really to resort to such abrasive acts moments after him stepping foot into the palace? Well then...

"No, no need." He said quickly to his guide, closing his eyes in fear that summer might come through a little too early though perhaps the draconian maiden could feel the heat starting to come through the blustery cold around him, "Please, I do not wish to trouble the Emperor or start some folly between he and his son. Will you please lend me a damp cloth and I will take care of this matter myself." Stepping forward, he reached to dip the tips of his into the fresh ink. A shiver going through his spine as it stainted his fingers, soldifying before a hiss came from his skin and the ice began to melt and steam, dripping down his hand in inky tears. Breathing out, he pulled his hood further over his head to hide the yellowish glow of his eyes.

Hopefully, tonight's feast would not present any more hostile messages.that was a wishful thought though.

[Mikki]

A weary smile squiggled across the dark maiden’s expression at the thought of her Emperor and the Crowned Prince at war with each other—when were they not silently fighting tooth and nail? Their guest would need not have to walk around eggshells when it came to that Father and Son combo. “I will clean the mess for you, Sire. I apologize on the Prince’s behalf… I cannot fathom where his disdain has come from…” She certainly wasn’t lying, something had inspired the Prince’s nasty side, but their guest had only just arrived… perhaps it was an exertion of dominance? A rather snarky one. “I hope you will… find the wardrobe inside suitable for the evening banquet.” A glance up and down his unusual form confirmed to her that anything would be better than that tacky cloak. He was a strange thing… it had been cold minutes prior and now, the air felt temperamentally warm—what was that he was doing to the ink splashed over the doorway? Ink didn’t drip quite like water, did it? Obviously, this act of mysticism found her on uneasy grounds, twiddling and intertwining her fingers in a nervous curiosity. His own self hooding didn’t dispel a drop of the toxic worry, either.

Thank the Gods that something was being carted down the hallway, wooden wheels that had been sanded to perfection for the smooth floors and attached to a makeshift table, only meant to carry a crystalline box, ornamented at the brim in golden sculptures, supposedly waves of the ocean. Inside the structure, filled with pure, perfectly clear water, was a figure unlike any found on land. Its tail spread into two, wavery and thin, like a piscine, and light pink in colour that attached itself onto more rigid structure, a tail that, for now, was bent akin to a human hugging onto its knees, proving it’s flexibility as a muscle. Undeniably for aquatic venturing, the large tail was equipped with little more than cycloid, crimson scales, not unlike a carp or salmon, fish that needed flexible hides. What made this particular piscine unusual, would have been how, about three fifths up the tail, the scales had all but disappeared. Replaced instead by the torso of something far more sapien. Pale beyond a healthy colour, the creature made sure to curl itself up as small as possible, to obscure its face against the upwards bend of its own tail. Ivory strands floated in a spikey fashion in the poor gravity pull inside its little watery prison. It would appear the creature was to be placed inside the guest Prince’s room, no doubt the aesthetic that the Emperor had summoned for him. The guards that pulled the creature closer to the inky door seemed mildly amused at the welcome from their troublesome Prince—things were surely going to get interesting around the palace, now. “A gift from the Emperor, Prince. Some company for you in your abode—be aware, though. Do not stick your hand inside. He’s a biter.” It was perhaps difficult to imagine the cowering aquatic as aggressive, given his forlorn, almost fetal pose inside a glass casing he just managed to fit in.

Water splashed idly as the tank—or prison, to some—was settled inside the room that had no expense spared. Gold (which seemed to be a recurring pattern), with fresh whites of cotton and linen. The bed was easily four poster, with draping curtains of semi-transparent mesh. A dresser, with a three pane mirror and drawers with only the finest in hair care items, combs, and the like, with a very old, ancient etching along carefully preserved chair. The wardrobes were an equal palette and intricacy, a small lounging table, with softer, plusher chairs. A balcony was also present to the Prince, one that, as promised, overlooked the expanse of the ocean and her ever-changing temperament. It was no wonder the Dragons had collected a creature of the ocean—they probably thought they owned it, being so close to their palace and all.

The tank was sat furthest away from it, too, almost deliberately so.

“He arrived yesterday, Prince. We’ve yet to prove if he can talk, but the Emperor insisted you have his latest centrepiece.” No doubt the fish was something to study. To see if he could speak, could respond. A Mercreature, a rarity befitting the symbol of a Fae—in return, he had received a denizen of the very marine mother herself. The guards left with a bow to the Fae… something about him seemed different, but it would never be their place to say so. The moment they had left, only then did the snowy crest in the tank raise his head—and only then did a pitiful blend of pink and red pigment seek to find their new, unwitting captor. “. . .” Who was to poke and prod at him now?

[tenebrae16]

He exhaled and his breath was an oxymoron; a mixture of a biting Winter breeze and the hot tang of a summer's day all rolled into one. And though the Fae were a private species, understudied either because of that or because nobody thought them worthy of being marked down in an encyclopedia as anything more than 'simple fairy folk', this open display of confusion belonged exclusively to him and him only. And he supposed, this was why this weighty burden was laid upon his shoulders as well. Closing his eyes, he let the calming darkness wash over him for a second, letting it bind down the heat threatening to intensify and calm the icy protest spiking in protest to the former.

The sun burned through his eyelids, flaked with red flares and dark sunspots, all traces of the silver moon gone with the Winter. White locks replaced by golden strands and the air around him grew stifling. Luckily his back was turned to the servant girl when he very calmly spoke; his appearance changed but his demeanor and tone the same, "Thank you."

"I only hope to dress appropriately for the Emperor and his family tonight. I apologise for the state of my attire. I understand it presents more problem for you to stock my wardrobe with cloth and clothes, I did not wish to be an imposing guest. I hope I will not continue to be for the remainder of my stay." With the same politeness and courtesy as before, the prince seemed not to care whether he was speaking to a serf or an Emperor. Was that a fault of his own character or of the Fae themselves? It was hard to say, but the sound of wheels rolling heavily across the polished floor distracted him before he could choose to ponder the natter any further.

He turned and his eyes flashed, his mouth agape at the sight though thankfully his own shock was hidden by the shadow of his hood. How could he not be in awe of what the guards slowly wheeled towards him? The ornamented tank was one thing, beautiful in it's own right though glass and metal did not mix would with the nature of a Fae and he couldn't help but feel a slight aversion as it was brought towards him, but what truly stunned him was the ethereal creature floating inside the crystal clear liquid in the tank. Despite it's sickly pallor, it was a gorgeous being with it's lithe frame and iridescent scales. And Amanti could not help but picture this Elysian glowing under the pale moon light; an image that could be captured and framed for but a second before it disappeared forever into the murky depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. A brief sight bereft of any unsatisfaction in what feeling it bequeathed to those blessed enough to witness it.

And so, Amanti was utterly horrified.

Deaf to the words from the guards, he stepped forward and pressed his palm against the glass. Lifting his head up to stare at the demure creature floating inside the sad parody of the ocean. At least that was all he managed to think before the guards began to wheel the creature forward and he was forced to step aside and let them pass, eyes following intently as if afraid they might run of with the creature on a moment's notice. Stepping forward when the guards moved aside, he stood in the doorway, too occupied with this so called 'gift' from the Emperoro to pay attention to the extravagant and exquisite nature of the room befitted for him. Later, when he had time to study his new lodging, he'd ponder about how it was a world away from his own home beneath the stars, trying too hard in it's embellishment to the point it was crude in some way. It would be something he'd keep mum about to his host though, that and the feelings about this 'thoughtful' gift laid upon him.

"Send my utmost thanks to the Emperor for this gift, I am..I am truly speechless." He said softly to the servant girl, stepping into his room. One hand alread on the chilling metal door as he offered a wavering smile from under his good as he nodded to the serf. Awkward in his farewell as he slowly closed the door upon her. Pausing to calm his racing heart that had seemingly jump started after his initial shock. Inhaling, his shoulders heaved before he turned around to face the sublime creature.

The golden trimmings on it's tank seemed like such a crude mockery compared to the breath taking view off the ocean waves rolling and crashing onto the shore at his balcony. Sea salt spraying forwards as foamy waves met the soft sandy bed, the stagnant water of the tank an ill contrast.

Firstly, he removed his hood, breathing in deeply as he stepped forward. Unsure how to approach this creature.

Long ago, it was said the fae had part in the entirety of the planet. The sky, the earth, the sea and the under dark. Over time though, they were sectioned off from each other. The under dark grew to belong to the dwarves and the fae of the sea became known as the fabled Mer. Only the earth and the skies belonged to what was in essence still a fae. So in some way, he and this creature were distant distant relations. He should be able to at least relate to him in some way. Form a connection?

Hesitation still made him pause as he approached the tank though. Watching the creature's gaze, he glanced at his balcony. It looked large enough to fit the tank and for him to squeeze in there as well. Turning back, he was taken aback by the creature's gaze; it's eyes stark against the pale contrast of it's face.

"Ah, I suppose you'll be happier nearer the sea won't you? Hold on okay?" He said, unsure if the creature could hear him through the thick glass as he pressed his palms flat against it and pushed. The fae were not know for any feats of strength either, but the wheels turned slowly, protesting on the carpeted floor. The tank rocked dangerously, teetering on the table, water sloshing over the side onto the carpet. Amanti stopped, afraid it might topple and completely shatter. At most, he was able to get it near the entrance of the balcony which was the closest that he dared to have it lest a comedy of errors lead to a very regretful action.

"Here, is it better?" He asked, pressing his face. Closer to the tank, not expecting a real answer.

---

Days...he had not seen him for days or nights or the hours inbetween. And he searched all his usual places and the places no one else but he could swim in. He swam deep into the dark where he might've hidden, fighting against the crashing pressure, and then to the surface where the sun was warm, but the finding was unlikely. He lifted rocks and cried out into sunken ships until his lungs were filled with water and he was blue in the gills, but to no avail.

Paranoia trapped him when he was not searching, filling his head with fearfu thoughts of legendary predators with gaping maws and rows of dagger teeth, of torn scales and eerie white bones glistening in the light filtering from the water's surface. But he struggled not to listen, plugged his ears shut and beat down his worries until he saw proof, so wen there was no evidence, he could only conclude one thing.

If he was nowhere to be found in the water, he must be on the surface.

[Mikki]

A gift, he piqued from the inside of his crystal prison. To him, it appeared like flawless ice, but not as frozen as he remembered the element to be, now he saw himself as little more as a curiosity for the surface creatures, a centrepeice... and how that ache'd. He'd forgotten the sorrow, now he only felt resentment. One night, he gazed upon the twinkling glitter that lined the sky, and then... well, he just couldn't recall it. He had awoken, groggy, inside a see-through cell. Now he was to be gifted to this man, this two legged person with a fiery appearance, he was reminded of a flower that used to grow in a hidden cavern, bright, red of colour and numerously dotted around the cavern walls, glistening of crystals and floral beauty.

Happier near the sea...

It would appear the being could indeed pique the tones of voices behind his glass. Keen and alert, the clawed ends of his fingertips swept against his cell, ever hopeful, that finally he would return to the ocean. A hesitant nod was his answer-- he had long ago realized his voice did not seep out of the tank easily unless the lid was removed. His new 'house' was being pushed along, and it was terribly copious. Every few inches saw his eyes wide in worry, keen pinky red that stared silently to the floor. Did he want this false ocean to shatter into peices..? Further more, why was this auburn being acting so kindly to him? He had met a child of tanned complexion and golden eyes unlike those of the servants, and had come to the conclusion that two-legged creatures were a terrible hassle. This one... was different.

He wasn't as close to his home as preferred but... seeing it was relief. A hand wiped down the glass, longingly. It was there. Just there, he wasn't far away at all. If he could just... just get out of this tank. " . . . " Yes. Yes he would return to the ocean, he was certain of it. His head croned upwards until it breached the surface, silvery white strands plastered onto his soaked complexion. "...It iss better." So the creature did have a voice. Thickly accented, northern voiced, with s's that were prolonged because of it. His arms lifted to lean over the glass-- but he found that painful due to the relative thin-ness. "...Thank you." It was sunny outside. Ordinarily, he'd sleep through the bright hours, awakening when the sun dipped under the horizon. He found it much more beautiful than dawn.

"My name iss Ssindre. What iss your own name? Where are we?" For all he knew, this being was also in no better place than himself. He didn't seem too well off, unlike the servants. They were bossed around, he noticed, but never hungry or in tatters. This male... he couldn't quite place. Was he a friend or a foe? Did it even matter? What did Sindre even have to lose anymore? Heck, he was already trying to slink over the tank's edge, painful as it looked, having solid, albiet blunt glass pushing across his pectorals. Was he really going to try and drop out? Perhaps see if he could dive into the ocean from the balcony?

"Pleasse... pleasse don't keep me in thiss place. I didn't do anything, I sswear I didn't..." Was that his crime?... No, no he was sure he had not offended anyone here. "You sshould esscape alsso, before they intrude upon yoursself, they do not assk permisssion or if it hurtss." Which it did, given the few seconds pause he offered his would-be-saviour. "I'm not ssure what I could give you in return, to perssuade you..."

[tenebrae16]

It was really enchanting to see the creature float through the water. It's lithe thin frame cutting through it like a hot knife through butter. Scales shimmering with each shifting movement, playing with the light like crystals; homesickness, such a overcoming feeling that reared it's head surprisingly quickly, made him think of the dripping icicles hanging precariously off the tree branches come Winter time, when the sun came up and turned those simple sculptures into deadly, but beautiful melting time bombs. Perhaps that was somewhat a stretch to compare the two entirely separate entities, but he honestly missed his home already, where the people were less..hostile and judging in his opinion.

Brought back to the creature, he could imagine it-he, though he wasn't sure if the Mer had genders, would be marvelous to watch swimming through open waters. Though..what consequence might befall him if he let the Emperor's gift swim free? This was supposedly his latest aesthetic, and admittedly the creature was something to behold, but it had been given to him as a gift so rightfully the creature was his even if he didn't want to own and keep it captive. Still, it would be rude and he did have to get on the Emperor' goodside. His thoughts were interrupted by a raspy voice and he finally realized that the Mer had breached the surface of it's tank and was speaking to him.

Stunned for a moment, he just sat blinking as the creature introduced its-himself, as far as Amanti knew, and begun to fire questions at him. Snapped out of his daze when-Ssindre started off into a panic. Hissing words leaving him too hurried and rushed for the Fae to follow.

Holding his hands up, palm facing forward, a universal sign of friendliness, he tried to calm the Mer, "Calm down, calm down. You'll tip yourself over at this rate. Calm, I don't intend to keep you here. My name is Amanti, prince of the Fae though currently we are in the empire of the Draconian Emperor, Yao Long. You need not give me anything and you are in no danger or here on your own fault. Please calm down and tell me how you came to be here? I was told you washed upon the shore and refused to speak since then?"

"You are...If I may ask, what exactly are you? In my life I have never seen a creature like you before." He had to crane his neck upwards to look at the creature as he spoke. The tank and the creature atop of that dwarfing him. It was rather tiring on the neck actually and he would have creaks later if he continued to hold his head up in such an unnatural position, against the direction of his spine. The four poster bed was close by but didn't offer enough height either. And he was in no mood now to create a stair well unless one wanted a singed carpet. He figured he could put himself to some use still.

"The water looks cold.." The creature may have been more fish like than he knew, so he may have been cold blooded. Gazing up at the creature to gauge his reaction, he pressed his palm against the glass and the water slowly warmed, "Is that alright? You..you know you look rather underfed as well, have they been feeding you properly?"he tried to ask as politely as he could observing the ribs he could see in his pale almost translucent skin.

[Mikki]

"Calm down?" How his form paused, poised atop glass and expression lost in those very words. How could he be came? His hour of rescuing could have been just around the corner, there was nothing that could beseech him to be a calm creature. If the Prince thought his own, slithering questions to be overwhelming, consider the feeling returned ten fold. Names were thrown at him, but that's all they were. Either he didn't dabble in politics, or his species didn't. "It'ss a.. pleassure to meet you, Amanti Prince of The Fae." Fae... Fae. Now that was a familiar word, but he couldn't place where he had heard such. Fae... was it on land or in the sea that he learned of it? "I know not thiss Emperor." Truely, he was like a fish out of water, in many a way. How had he come to be here... clearly, he wasn't getting assistance or anything to help him land onto... whatever earth that was underneath his little jail-tank, it was with similar lack of speed that he slipped back into the water with a small splash to announce home sweet home. "I wass never wasshed up, Amanti Prince of The Fae. To better forage for food, I awaken when the moon risses into the ssky. It wass during ssuch timess when I can lasst remember the beach, but I know not how I came to be here."

In other words, everything had theoretically went black.

"I sspoke. I assked them to let me go-- and I have protessted their force-feeding." It was as simple as that. His brows, also pale in colour, knitted together, a scorned expression if there was ever one to grace a mer-persons face. Arms folded, over his sleek abdominals, especially, he looked more akin to suffering a bad recount of dinner time. "I am... a... we are called Merfolk." Come to think of it, he never really had contemplated the name his species gave themselves. Why did it matter? None of it mattered, he just wanted to return home. To hide in his little cavern, away from everyone else, and resume his life as a night-crawler. He had few social interaction, and he liked it that way, too. Away from scorn, away from.. this. The water looked cold? He truely hadn't noticed. Well suited for the frozen waters was he-- it had been where he hailed from, originally. Icebergs and frozen sheets, with no sand.

He wouldn't protest to heated water, though. It was relaxing, like the embrace of another, or the feel of the sun when it was more merciful in the summer-- infact, he almost slid down the inside of his tank with a dreamy, sleepy expression. "Mmm..." Yes, yes he was much too content in the warmth to even question HOW such craft had created the waters warmer touch. "...Hm?" Perhaps he was a little too comfortable in the water, now. "Oh. They feed me sstrange thingss that I do not like. No fissh or ssea-weed." Most likely not strange things, probably beef, or chicken, both alien to the waterside. "They force it into your mouth. Why are you here, Amanti Prince of The Fae? What did they do to you?" Because these people could not be innocent. They were nasty individuals, this much he had gleaned. A knock upon the door saw nothing more than a trail of bubbles follow a cowering piscine, it was them, wasn't it!? It was those horrible servants!

"Did you like the ink painting I did for you?"

HISS! It was that horrible Prince! Hell, even the glass received a feral swipe, allowing for a few scrapes across the glass, but no real damage. He wasn't strong enough for that. Inhuman was the screech that welcomed the third voice from beyond the door, though it clearly went ignored by one of the party.

"I worked hard on it. Did you like the freak we sent you, too? Didn't want you feeling like the only weirdo around here."

[tenebrae16]

It was...troubling, simply put, listening to the creature-Sindre, here minded himself for that was his name. Straining his ears for the creature's voice was muffed and slightly garbled through the water and the glass, he listened with his brow knitting further and further and a worry in his heart that grew heavier and heavier. To hear that he'd been lied to, that apparently this creature supposedly hadn't been washed up and had even spoken, begged and called even for it's own freedom and right to deaf ears that decided he would better do as some sort of living ornament, made to be admired in his rather pitiful and plain glass cell.

And though he was curious and ,childishly so, delighted to meet this confirmed 'Merfolk' in what could be in a once in a lifetime opportunity, well, that sense of discover failed to overwhelm the rather sick feeling churning, bubbling and rolling tumultuously in the pit of his stomach at the thought of having such a intriguing and gorgeous creature so gravely mistreated. The feeling only intensified like a growing storm as the Mer went on about his treatment or rather lack of the proper kind.

The fae were a feeling kind, pacifists. Even the thought of them forcing the Mer's jaws open and shoving something distasteful to him, not taking into account that the Fae did not eat meat as it sickened them greatly, down his throat was enough to make Amanti's face scrunch in repulsion and disgust. Wrinkling his nose.

At the very least, he was glad he could offer the Mer some relief as he sunk to the bottom of the tank, practically purring, if fish could purr. The tank was awfully cramped width wise though and Amanti felt sorry to see the creature squashed at the bottom. He couldn't even fully rest himself and even suspended in fluid, Amanti suspected it still used up some energy to stay upright and afloat.

Sindre's own sleepy question eventually snapped him out of his heavy haze. And he returned his gaze to meet his, a certain sadness staining those golden globes as he sought to empathize with him and his plight. He didn't need to try very hard to. Still, when he finally realized what the creature was asking, he pulled his hands off the glass and shook his head, "Ah no, I came here on my own will. To..to seek relation with the emperor...and my own people." He slowly trailed off, gaze falling to the ground as he begun to question if he even still wanted protection from the Emperor if he was the kind of man to ignore the will of other creatures and imprison them as ornaments. He knew dragons were obsessed with outward beauty and value, but this had to be taking it a step too far. How could he guarantee that the same thing wouldn't happen to his people as it had Sindre? And more importantly, did he actually have the luxury of a choice?

"Ah, you do not have to address me by my full title, Amanti is fine." He said softly, distracting himself from sućh worrying thoughts when he realized the creature's funny little speech idiosyncrasy, managing a small bemused smile, albeit it being still a little sad over all with his pinched brow and dampened gaze. That quickly turned to surprise as the mer switched from a comfortable sleepy eyed creature to a panicked hissing animal, conered where it stood-uh floated. Amanti's gaze snapped towards the doors as the loud knocker chose to just shout brashly without permission.

If his brow wasn't already furrowed, he would have knit it again hearing the prince's voice ring loudly through his door. Wincing as his new friend(?) screeched and made his ear drums come close to bleeding. Perhaps he should be glad tha the banshee pitched shriek was muffled by water and glass. As lightly as he could, he patted the glass and hoped to reassure the creature. Heating the water again since he had seemed to enjoy it so much earlier. One more gentle tap on the glass as if to cement some hopeful plea for the Mer to quieten, and he approached the door.

Shivering at the cool metal against his fingertips before he let it swing open just enough for him to squeeze his head through and block the view into the room with his body.

Even at this shocking revelation, he kept his expression calm; with not the slightest pinch of his brow as signal to his own troubling thoughts, "Prince Jin-Wei..." He started and then trailed offC seemingly momentarily at a loss for words, "It is pleasure to speak with you again. Yes I did very much enjoy your artisric gift. I am only sorry that it must be erased. As for Sindre," he glancedx backwards and bowed his head, "I am very much enjoying his company. Please if no one has already, send my humblest regards to the Emperor for this gift though if it is not too much trouble to request, may I please have some fish or seaweed. I believe Sindre is underfed and it is near time to eat."

And oh to a fault he was in some regard, but he mustered a smile; a tight lipped forced smile, but a smile all the same at the Prince, "Other than that, I thank you humbly for the thoughtful accomodations." And he begun to close the door.

[Mikki]

"Had a cosmetics change, have we?"

Jin-Wei wasn't particularly attune to differences, but this was unmistakable. He had come in like a walking icicle and now he resembled something more of a fire-seed, but that did not worry or upset a Dragon. After all, they could squish 60-foot long reptiles into the benign bodies of humanoids. "You know what I hate, though?" Consider one sandled foot to be shot forward, and with any luck, the only thing that would stop the door from closing on him. "Bad move." A finger wiggled in the air in faux scolding. No one shut the door on him. No one. "I hate liars, and you've got to be the worst one yet." The harsh constrict of spiked pupils tightened ever so slightly at the word. Something truly was his frustration when it came to the so called Prince of Fae's.

"You're not happy to see me, you didn't enjoy the ink across your door. Stop nodding and thanking everyone like a little suck up." Pissed him off, so it did. The goody-goody types, the yes Sir, no Sir, three-bags-full Sir types, enough so that his fists clenched angrily enough. "You're fake." His foot slid away from the doorway, forcing himself to turn back to their royal guest. He had made a silent oath to himself, he would test this thing's resolve. Bring out something more vague of a personality, and he knew just how to get that ball rolling. It was his speciality. "Sure. I'll send fish for your pet." A hollow smirk was aimed down the hallway at that. Poor Fae, thinking to ask such things of him. As if he were the serf, not a Prince himself. "Get something on for dinner. That's why I'm here-- it's on the table."

Knowing their Draconic Prince, he likely stalled until it was getting cold, too.

"Try dressing in something like, I don't know, clothes? Wouldn't want you apologising mildly all the way through dinner, you might spoil my appetite."

His presence had left, thankfully, and that left a snarling mer-creature to finally lower the proverbial hackles. He knew of that Prince, cruel beast that it was. "What a nassty thing he iss..." It would seem the comments he himself hadd earned on arrival to this palace were not ment for he alone. The Prince Jin-Wei did not hold his tongue for anyone's feelings or regard, he was brutal to anything that he didn't care for-- and that was becoming an extensive list, or so it appeared. "Are you alright, Prince Amanti...?" He couldn't shorten it to simply Amanti. Prince seemed to be... important. An important title for important people, he just didn't fully understand what the word ment. If only this tank had a little more room in it, he could have leapt out and split his tail until it formed legs. He had done so many a day before, but legs felt like one of those 'lifetime to master' things. It would seem, once again, he intended to climb over the glass, precariously, it didn't have to be said.

He had an idea, after all, and it involved getting out of this puddle of a tank.

"Will you leave thiss place ssoon? You don't need to sstay in ssuch bad company, do you?" The fact that the tank wobbled saw him slink back into the depths. He would figure this out, he WOULD get out and perhaps offer this kinder, gentler Prince better conversation than being a buddy-in-a-box. He had been gifted to this Prince-- did that not make him similar to the servants that those reptilian eye'd tyrants pushed around? Then, in that case... yes, yes he simply had to get out of this tank. Something to work on, before he came face to face with the horrors of his dinner. Fish and seaweed excited him-- not when it came from that brown haired child.

"Hm... I ssupposse you besst prepare for your meal with him. You will.. you will come back, won't you? How long will you be with them?"

[tenebrae16]

The door stopped shut of crushing the dragon's foot, Amanti holding it just inches shy from those wiggling toes that were simply asking for it. He wasn't the kind to slam the door shut on someone, even less so to injure others even if knowing the constitution of the dragon; he would be fine a few moments later even if he had slammed the door hard enough to cut off the circulation to his toes or something. It would only serve to anger him as well. His wrath was something he didn't want to incite, though he didn't wish for him to enter the room and further agitate the Mer creature. Letting the door swing back to it's aforementioned position, he peered back up at the dragon. Blinking and reeling back at the finger suddenly thrust into his face before he met those constricted pupils with his own blazing eyes. In a staring contest, it would be hard to say who could make the other avert their gaze first.

Jin Wei with his own intense emotion thinly veiled by those brilliant inhuman eyes or the mere Fae who had the summer sun burning in his own pupils, bright, but reluctant to burn those folly enough to stare into them. And as the prouder prince spoke, the other bowed his head and peered up at him through the stray golden locks falling in front of his face; sun light filtering through the treetops and cutting through the darkness of the forest. Unable to outshine the sun all the same. The metaphor didn't fit the demeanor though as the prince kept his head down as if willfully accepting the apparent berating and harsh accusations that the dragon was giving him. His hands coming to rest on the metal edge of the door, the softest sizzle coming from the slowly warming metal. Eyes cautiously studying that wiry smirk sent his way, one that didn't quite meet the Prince's eyes and wouldn't have made a difference if it had appeared or not at all; meaningless that couldn't be better summed up in any other amount of words.

And when the foot slid out from the gap in the doorways and the draconic prince turned away with one more scathing comment tossed carelessly back at him, the fae opened the door wide enough to bow even if the Prince could not see it, choosing to thank him, "-for informing me of the meal and being so indulgent to my friend. I will try to dress appropriately so as to see I do not impair your appetite tonight."

Pause, contemplation. Straightening up, he began to close the door, stopping short before the Prince could tread out of earshot. Expression blank, eyes on the floor, his voice echoed calling down the hallway despite his softest tone, "I would like to think I am not a fake, Prince Jin Wei, I just think perhaps you are not used to someone trying to be kind to you."

The door shut quietly.

Turning to the creature, he was happy to find some friendly face within him amongst all that he had met so far on his journey and brief beginnings of his stay. Gaze softening, as if the Prince could know what he was like if all he was urged to give was a neutral stance and emotionless stare to him, "I am alright, Sindre. Words are nothing more than feathers; the quills are sharp, but if you know how to handle them, then they are barely a tickle." He recited though his words were a little weary and worn and he hoped that the look he had was enough to convey that he wished not to talk about the crown prince.

Carpet tickling his bare feet in reminiscence to the grassy plain he loved to tread on, he made his way over to the beautifully engraved wardrobe, fully stocked with clothes for him. He was somewhat taken aback by the many clothes awaiting him (and somewhat relived that they were free of ink) and a marveled at how soft they were. Like nothing between his skin as he carefully fingered the cloth. Soft and airy, but heavily adorned with golden thread and sequins. Extravagant, he could praise it, but he wished he need not wear it. It smelt like nothing, not like his home and admittedly, he somehow pictured he'd feel vaguely nude in such silky clothes.

The slight rocking of the glass scared him out of his hazy daze, dropping the cloth to rush over to the thank and press his hands against it, "Careful, careful." He chanted, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest. If it tipped over, well, he didn't think that the creature's soft skin would deal well with cutting splintered glass though the Dragons were well renowned for their glass work, and all things related to smelting and heat (though dwarves might beg to differ).

Keeping his hands worriedly inspecting the glass, "I hope to stay only as long as I need to establish a friendship between my people and the dragons, but I do not wish to stay much longer. I miss my home. I miss my family. It is strange, I've never been away for more than a day. I suppose, it is like if you've never been away from the sea until now..." His fingers slid down the glass silently as he bowed his head and inhaled, thinking himself a poor choice to send to make relations with the dragons, but honestly, there couldn't have been anyone better.

"Huh? Ah yes, I will have to change." He said, turning back hurriedly to his wardrobe and picking up the fallen robe. Making sure it was not ripped or dirty; the problem with such beauties were how fragile they were. He found the same polished sandals beneath his bed, tucked away neatly as if quietly waiting someone to fulfil their only purpose. He'd worn shoes before, but not something quite so smooth and...well, to any other; they were beautifully worked pieces of art, carved to a point. To him; they were skinned pieces of dead wood, impaled by woven string and strapped to his foot. How easy it would be to take a misstep. He was not used to the elegant float of royalty and thus looked rather clumsy in the clogs.

"I will..I will try to be fast. I may take some time to speak with them, but I will try to be back soon to speak with you. Perhaps your own food will have arrived by then." He spoke whilst he climbed onto the bed and affixed the blankets to the posts on either side of the bed, making a sort of makeshift changing screen for him to hide behind. The top of his head visible as he bid farewell to his worn brown cloak and his own loose weaved garments underneath. Clothes did not make a person, but he felt like someone else as he slid into the silken robe. Shivering at the cool thread sliding over his skin that really did make him feel like he was still wearing nothing.

"How do I look?" He asked, sliding off the bed and from behind the screen. Surprisingly, the robe fitted him almost perfectly and at least it allowed freedom of movement. It really was rather gaudy for him, but he hoped he at least looked descent enough for the Emperor. He couldn't say the same for his walking though, finding it somewhat difficult to maneuver his way around in the sandals that didn't seem like they were made for him. Well, if he went barefoot, surely no one would notice under his robe.

"I will be back soon, alright?" He patted the glass, "And then...then we will discuss how to get you back to your home." A solemn promise. A serious gaze before the fae turned away and hurried to meet his hosts for dinner, hoping that he wouldn't overstep his boundaries if he hadn't already with the prince.

---

The land was a forgotten feeling, oddly familiar, but no comparison to the foamy waves or the drifting currents. The sand squelched wetly in between his toes, irritating his skin. The air, whilst still traced with the lingering salt of the sea, was dry and cold as it rushed into his lungs. Smooth conch held cautiously in his webbed hands, he licked his lips and brought it to his mouth, fingers over the carefully chiseled holes in it's side. He prayed Sindre was here, he prayed he could hear his cry. This time. This time please. He already wanted to dive back into the choppy waters behind him, but he stayed even as a cold breeze knocked against him. Inhale, and then the horn sounded hoarsely into the dark, crying out into the night.

[Mikki]

"I enjoy featherss..." A childish proclamation, but he knew the metaphor in a more literal sense. Those soft, airborne items that occasionally floated from the gulls-- and how he loved those creatures. Freedom incarnate. "You do not know how to handle hiss featherss yet, do you, Prince Amanti?" Jin-Wei's feathers were gaurded and sharpened, razors instead of soft, plush plumage-- Sindre had to wonder why such people acted as they did. Rose-tinted-rubies followed the summery prince, and even curiously piqued the inside of the wardrobe. Why did the people on land dress like that? Why did they dress at all, was it compulsory? Why, his very palms pressed against the glass, curious. "...Hm." Another thing to mentally note away. "You ssometimess find clothess in the ssea. Ussually in recent sshipping dissassterss, but very little look like they do." He had been to many a ship-wreck, and being primarily carniverous, he thought it best not to tell Prince Amanti why.

It would only be all the more reason to keep him inside his fish-bowl, as it were.

"Why would you wissh relationss with Dragonss? They sseem sso..." He fished (aha) for the words, but he didn't know any that could relate to the reptiles. He... admitably, hadn't met any until these past few days, and that alone bowed his head some. "I ssupposse I sshouldn't judge." Perhapss it was just the tenacious crowned prince that made their species look bad-- after all, merfolk wern't all the same, either. He was sure the Fae wern't a hive species, too.

...Hm. The Fae.

"I'm ssure you do misss your home, Prince Amanti. It musst feel sso sstrange, leaving behind everything you know, to appear in a place like this." True, Sindre himself had been through just that, but there was a difference in their predicaments, something that the merman seemingly longed for. "But it musst be wonderful. To travel and ssee the world. You will have sstoriess that only you could tell your family, that musst be worth the travelling?" To think of little one's around a fire, as they did on the beaches, and exchanging stories... how Sindre wished he could have been apart of that. Sharing banter and laughter, thrills and scares, there seemed nothing more wholesome than to listen to a traveller. To pretend to witness their tale, first hand.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine here." He had his own little plan to throw into motion. What was Prince Amanti doing? He was ontop of that raised... thing, he wasn't sure what humanoid's beds were, but he seemed to be creating some form of mock shelter with it. Naturally, Sindre was trying to peer over to see WHAT exactly this Prince of Fae was trying to accomplish. Why did humanoids hide themselves when slipping out of garements? "Like a Prince." ...Was that the right compliment to use? Sindre didn't know. What was Prince Amanti supposed to look like? He had no judgement of it-- but if it came from this abode's wardrobes, it must have been fine to wear it-- Home. "..Ah, about that.." ...Did he want to go home? "We can conversse about it at a later date..." Truth be had, perhaps Sindre did not want to go home at all. "Take care, Prince Amanti."

= = =

What a Grand Dining Hall indeed. Etched with coils of scales, gaping jaws and outstretched talons, light by what appeared to be a ball of swirling fire and blazing flames, almost akin to a chandelier. A table stretched, the same scheme as anywhere else in the kingdom, aligned with food fit for a large party's. Skewered... animals, who knew what THOSE were, with various, much less creature-killing soups and rice options, cubes of beef, slices of chicken, pork bao, noodles fried with vegetables of many shapes, colours and sizes, with small, ornamental teapots filled with a green, herbal smelling mixture. A tanned hand reached for the dumplings, but two sticks swiftly came down to slam against his palm. "Control yourself. Our guest has yet to arrive." Oh bother. Emperor was at the scolding again, but even he had to wonder where their guest had gone... was he weary from travelling? "You did inform him of where the dining hall was, Jin-Wei?" No, no he hadn't, he was too busy reaching for the dumplings again.

"Of course I did. What little faith you have in me, Baba."

Thwack! It wasn't wise to sit next to Emperor Yao Long at dinner time, evidently.

"I won't have you causing our guest any trouble, Jin-Wei. You're to stay in your own quarters tonight-- and shut the door for once in your life. You startle the chambermaids." All that received was a shrug-- and all THAT received was a firm whack of the chop-sticks again, and a growl that was very much inhuman. It resonated and rumbled deeper than most voices, that of a Dragon's solitary warning to his young. "You will stay in your chambers, and should anyone find you outwith them, your punishment will be dire." That was THAT. Just wait until the old fuddy duddy Emperor found out about the black ink across the door. Someone was sure to report it, but then, the Prince would have known that when he was sprawling it over the doorway. It wasn't the first time priceless architecture had suffered a noir-make over. Nor the last Amanti would see Jin-Wei's disagreeable side.

= = =

SMASH!

Perhaps he hadn't anticipated the tank to turn into tiny, sharp shards quite as much as it had, but many of the shrapnel was washed away under the flood of water his tank had created. He was out now. The small pieces of glass did scrape against his skin, fewer bits still, stuck into his torso, but they were minor injuries. Nothing he couldn't pluck out with his sharpened nails. His breath suddenly felt elated and half-full, the tendon of his tail had, rather painfully, split into two and saw to it that he writhed and wriggled to bare it's transformation... but he'd done it. He was out now, and pale, blood dappled flesh already unsteadily fell towards the doors that contained clothing. He chose plainer attire, a pair of would be baggy trousers made of ochre silks-- perhaps they'd fit someone of a smaller stature, but in his legged form, Sindre stretched to six foot and four inches. A friendly, if somewhat lanky creature. None of the shirts seemed to fit all that well, not until he got to the last one, silken and white, it contended his skin colour.

...What was the deal with the buttons though? Frog clasps, which were their true name, but they seemed needlessly complicated. Sindre decided just to leave them at that-- what... what was that noise? It... dare he say it almost... sounded like...

"I can't. I'm ssorry." No. He had decided how it was to be from now on-- and it didn't involve the ocean anymore. Bare-foot, the balcony felt dangerous when it was traversed with wet feet. Sindre awaited on the balcony, to see if his poorer-eye sight could pique anything interesting in dusk. "..." Maybe he should have said goodbye, instead.

[tenebrae16]

Admittedly, the Mer creature was somewhat adorable or at least endearing in his peculiar mannerisms and speech impediments. In a way, he felt like he had some ancient inter-species connection with the creature. And very much so was he interested in it's physiology, but also in the astute, though unusual, observations he made off handedly. It was akin to that of a really bright child actually; some things, Amanti could laugh off easily, like his out of place exclamation to liking feathers and his brief tirades about his clothing finds and travelling. Sweet and naive with the kind of spontaneous nature of youth. A very charismatic youth that didn't know his own appeal, but made others aware of it all the same. But other instances, the Mer said things that made Amanti pause and ponder, falling into a thoughtful silence at questions he should've and probably had asked himself before over and over again.

And if he could not answer himself, how could he answer Sindre?

He believed he could handle harsh words and foul phrases slung his way, despite the delicate nature of a Fae. He would like to think his skin was thicker than it physically, at least enough to handle the sharp slice of quills, but they did say the plumage of a dragon was coarser than any other creature, but perhaps he was starting to look into this metaphor a little too deeply. It was not a question meant to be answered aloud anyway though Amanti would have really liked to known the source of the crowned Prince's enmity toward his arrival. Could it be he was truly just hated? He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse knowing that was the case.

And did this influence his decision for relation? That was a question he could answer to the Mer, but needn't as the Mer cut himself off. And he wasn't sure if it was better to say the hard truth out loud or leave himself to ponder whether it was the truth or the right reason. He wanted so badly not to knock himself off course though, after he had come so far. He didn't want to suddenly second guess himself and make. His entire journey here for nought. If he came back to his people with not only the news that he hadn't obtained any protection from them, but the most fiercest and mighty creatures in the world were as mean-spirited as the were rumored to be. It sounded vacuous in his own mind.

And his family, "I suppose," He had answered to the Mer, "I will look forward to going home though and telling them about the world. It has not changed as much as I thought it would, we have kept up with the times well at least even if we have not wholly involved ourselves in it's shifting politics and cultures. I suppose that the journey is worth that relief." And he couldn't imagine what the policies and culture of the met was like. If they were as sedentary and private of a society as the Fae were or if perhaps they ruled the seas collaterally or had a hierarchical structure in place. Wonder seemed to understand the title of a prince though he would not make any assumption without substantial evidence or confirmation.

All the same, it did not stop him from wondering about his latest aquatic acquaintance. And as he wondered, he also wandered until he realized he did not know where he was meant to go. The winding marble floors suddenly seemed dizzying in their repeated patterns and as for the wallet, well they seemed just as mocking as they scrutinized their ditsy little guest wandering lost and barefoot along their marble spines.

Fortunate for the Prince, though perhaps unfortunate to the sinister plans of another, it was a problem easily rectified with the passing of another serf in his path. A quick hailing down, a low bow and a quick explanation and the serf led him to where he need go. And as they descended down the corridor, Amanti felt relieved as he passed more spectacular carvings and woven tapestries adorning the hallways for as splendid this place was in it's grandeur, it was repetitive to an extent and the prince was sure he could've spent days wandering the halls like a weary Spector until he found where he needed to go.

He wished to make his entrance discreet, being fashionably late was out of his vocabulary. Ushered into the smaller dining hall, he bid a hasty thanks to the serf and then an even hastier bow to the Emperor and Prince sat awaiting him.

"Pardon my tardiness. I was...lost admiring your tapestries. We do not have such woven silks in out land, I was curious as to who has weaver something so fine." He said, same politeness, same tone as he was ushered once more to take the seat next to the emperor. Back straight, posture mimicking, Amanti stared down at the complex feast laid out before him and hastened to silence the soft rumble of his stomach.

The air felt strangely tense as if he had just arrived at the end of some unresolved conflict, but he would not interfere with personal parenting methods.

Compared to before, he had simmered down, though his new appearance might still draw some double takes.

Strange delicacies he was sure that he could only somewhat discern through smell and looks alone. Waiting grace, he pondered exactly what looked 'safe' to eat. He was not a very picky eater normally, but the restrictions placed on a fae's diet could be stifling. He was willing to break a few simple customs if it meant pleasing the Emperor though and...well, he glanced up briefly at the Prince across the table from him before he lowered his head and not his tongue. Not wishing to speak of ink or sentient living center pieces.

---

The cry rang out into the hallowed night, sorrowful melancholy; a deep unfiltered sound cutting raggedly through the night. Pausing only to take a shaky breath before it's sobbing continued. Until his lungs were torn and his throat was hoarse and each breath felt like swallowing sea urchins, but still the sound continued, desperately beseeching comfort. Echoing, resounding, playing back as it answering it's own pleas. Until even the sea was a distant memory and water seemed like an elixir kept from his shredded throat. And he licked his lips and blew into the horn until he could no more but rasps and watch as the stars answered him pitifully and the waves crashed behind him, bidding him come home before the night left him helpless. Like a drunken fool, he blocked those calls and threw his instrument down in anger. It wobbled and rolled across the smooth sand before, as if in an act of anger or revenge at it's ignored symphonies, the waves swept it back and dashed the innocent instrument across the rocks. Glittering shards scattered in a final musical crescendo.

And should he care? Should he cry over his instrument lost when his voice was already gone and he had not the will to play it anymore? When his search was endless but fruitless and futile? SHould he care if he chose to lay down her end let the sun dry his flesh and the gulls pick apart his scales? Perhaps, perhaps so. For his hallowed cries may not have been answered, but certainly they had awoken the night guard.

[Mikki]

"Were you now?" The Emperor didn't even get a word in. His son had already circled the conversation with a cruel gaze, he was little more than a hawk that descended to make his opponents life a misery, waiting for every opportunity he was given. A tough little nipper, and hardly dressed for the occasion. He wore the same sleeveless traditional-wear he had upon arrival, the definition of biceps and triceps that implied the boy took care of his body, regularly involved with physical, strenuous exercise. Now that their guest had arrived, the pork-bao would be his to devour! Either Dragon's ravenously ate, or just seeing this Prince annoyed the Draconian brat. THWACK! Right on the hand again.

"Do forgive my son, Prince Amanti. I cannot fathom why his moodiness strikes now." Poor Yao. His eye was practically twitching repeatedly, stressed beyond his tether with that... thing he called offspring. Why now, why. NOW. "Please, do sit down and eat what you will." Since Jin-Wei had decided he'd waited long enough and was stealing all of the dumplings. What was one to expect from a voracious carnivore? "Jin-Wei was telling the truth when he proclaimed you had an appearance change--, I trust it's not a negative reaction, Prince? It was not the mer-thing that we gifted you? He's bitten many of those under my servitude, I thought something like yourself something more... at one.. with nature and her miscreants, would make better company for the creature."

"Sometimes you hear rumours that they eat whoever's unfortunate enough to fall into the water. Hungry for blood, guts, or so they say." Jin-Wei just couldn't resist adding on that little tit-bit of information he'd heard circulate.

THWACK!

"That's quite enough Jin-Wei. Until you can prove gossip, it is not factual." The Emperor finally decided to spoon a few helpings of soup into a bowl for himself, the mannerism almost sleepy, tired, infact. As if the day had been long, and now it was far past his appointed royal bed-time. "I hope the room is to your liking, Prince Amanti--" For a tired man, how a glare could splice through the very air when the dining doors were thrown open by whom he knew to be a chamber-maid. She all but threw herself to the floor in a bow, aswell. "Your Highness! When we entered to feed the mer-creature... his container has been shattered, Sire! He's no where to be found!"

Always during dinner time, wasn't it Yao?

"You need not disturb my meal with such trivia, find it. It has no legs, how far could such a pale creature drag itself and be unknown to you? Find it, and see to it that it returns to Prince Amanti's abode-- well contained, this time. Apologies, Prince. We shall ensure your mer-creature is returned to you, I promise you that."

"Guess he just didn't like you that much, huh?"

THWACK!
= = =

How that noise tormented him. Solemn, that was the only word he could choose for it, it was as if the very sea demanded he return to its open waves. He almost wanted to shout why it even wanted him to return. It wasn't as thought such a being kept him in good stead, Sindre had struggled most of his life for survival-- such was the downfalls of albinism. Most animals didn't survive their lack of pigment for one reason or another, his current state of.. well, being alive, he wasn't sure if that was good or bad fortune. Damp soles dried upon the carpet that they unsteadily tread upon, carefully, albiet clumsily avoiding the glass that scattered across the floor. He was unsure if Prince Amanti would be in trouble from it, but at the time of smashing it, it had been no more than an obstacle. His next great feat was to open the door-handle-- why did humanoids have such tricky items to barricade themselves inside with? Eventually, that too swung open, to a new foe.

Tiles.

They didn't bare well on the feet. How pathetic to the eye, this large, lanky being that slipped and slid gracelessly, likely taking forever in a hallway that should have been transversed in a matter of minutes. 10 / 10 for willpower, though. The merman saw to it that he eventually reached, with a few, furrowed brows at the sheer SIZE of this complex, what appeared to be something of a... well, he wouldn't have known, but it seemed to be a patio of some afternoon-tea affair, a little place to admire the see and drink a beverage under the beauty of nature-- but given how Sindre was already falling over the railing of it, it was little more than an escape route with a drop he was sure he'd survive. Make no mistake, it would be painstaking moments until he tumbled onto the sands.

He wouldn't be in the ocean, not in these fancy clothes.

[tenebrae16]

As a guest, he really had no right to comment about the table mannerisms of his host or that of his host's distempered son. One could wonder if all that muscle was gained only through the sheer force of him stuffing his gob full overpowering that of the calories in his food. Amanti sat blinking, honestly taken aback by the sudden ferocity in the Prince's appetite; he doubted he could spoil this monstrous hunger. And being of a quiet and passive disposition, he flinched when a hand came down to loudly smack the beast's claw, Amanti nearly expecting the ravenous creature to turn and hiss at who dared interrupt it's meal time. At the very least, the hunger stricken creature was gorging itself mostly on what smelled of marinated meats; something that the Fae would rather not have to given an explanation for why he could not let it pass through his lips.

Turning back to the Emperor, he bowed his head, unable to help but observe the harsh weary lines weighing down a man that might've still been handsome in his age if not for the constant worry of his brow or the deep purplish vein throbbing dangerously in his forehead, threatening to burst at any second. It was plain and simple for all to see that the man was aged beyond his years, not just by the weight of his position, but the added burden of his 'trying' son. Simply put, it's remedy like anyone would agree that Jin Wei was to be the death of his brow beaten Father and come that day, many a dragon and creature a like would be holding bated breath as they waited to see how the Prince would ascend the throne and proceed to overtake his father's reign. Hopefully, the youth still had a few more centuries left to grow out of his adolescence.

Striking a smile in answer to the man trying to play off his son's actions, one that hopefully showed that Amanti did not mind his aggressiveness towards his dinner. Vaguely, it was comical to an extent watching him wolf down the pork bao, meat juices dripping down his lip.

At question to his appearance, his brow knitted and he anxiously pulled at his long sleeves, wondering if his fingers had skittered over a clasp or button or if he was wearing his robe backwards or if perhaps they noticed his lack of footwear. He soon realized what the Emperor was referring to. 'Appearance' in his mind, did not refer to what others believed it did.

He would not berate the Emperor for being curious, but it was quite rude to ask so openly about his 'seasons', akin to making some rude jest at a lady in public; the nature of which should not be discussed at a dinner table.

"Oh, no, please, pay no heed to it. It is..a birth defect." For there was very little other way to put it; what befell him and no other fae, "I am very much enthralled by your gracious gift. In fact," He paused, glancing at the Prince and his callous comment, turning away, "It-ah, Sindre is very good company. Despite his appearance and lock of knowledge over certain land based customs, he is very civil and pleasant to converse with. In fact, I've had a very engaging conversation with him and I believe there is so much more to learn from him if we only allowed him to see us as friends as well. This is a very rare opportunity we have to really learn about such fascinating creatures, perhaps even involve ourselves in helping each other."

He concluded with a small smile tugging at his lips, like a student seeking praise after having just finished a long pondered over essay and speech. That hopeful smile quickly faded into a crest fallen gaze when the Emperor seemed to so casually ignore his suggestion and proceed to ask him about his disposition towards his room. Well, it wasn't out of intention probably, the man seemed more exhausted as the night waned on and perhaps Amanti should bring it up once more when he was in a more negotiable mood. Sindre technically belonged to him anyway so by right he did not need the Emperor's permission to release him, but he would rather it so no more creatures would suffer the same fate upon this shore.

He jumped as the doors swung open and the chambermaid threw herself before them, but it was her words that stuck him more deeply. Amongst the flippant dismissal of the king, he shot up from where he stood causing his bowl to shake. Suddenly, he felt quite awkward, realizing his readiness did not match that of his unbothered host. Slowly, he slid back down into his seat, feeling somewhat disturbed by the unperturbed remarks made by the emperor and the scornful dig by his son. This wasn't what he wanted; yes he wanted Sindre found, but the Emperor's emphasized words made his stomach toss, knowing his words had truly been ignored.

"Forgive me, but I feel a little weary from my journey. I do not think I have the appetite for this feast you have prepared. My greatest apologies for the trouble you had to go through, but I believe I shall have to retire early to bed." And to look for Sindre. He really couldn't have gone far could he? Unless...he prayed the drop from the balcony would not be too steep if he chose to flee from there.

---

He could see the lights. He was watching them fixedly.

[Mikki]

"I see." It wasn't just the Fae who could command a cold atmosphere. To appear in rags was one thing, to arrive late to dinner was another-- but to simply refuse the food all in the one day... Yao was starting to disdain his own hospitality. Perhaps it Amanti had attempted to eat a little more, the Emperor wouldn't have felt such scorn. Slowly did the middle aged man rise from his seat, fingers drumming ever so impatiently on the table edge. "I'm sure you are in need of resting. Go." A dismissal, one that took a terrible amount of self-discipline not to bark as he so wanted to. When his son decided to slowly covet the bao and push his chair away from the table with a quiet snicker, a finger accusingly pinned his movements. "You stay, until I say you may leave." Whatever the bond between Father and Son was with Emperor and Prince, it was never over-ruled by the latter's boyish rebellion. Jin-Wei sat obediently, his hand dropped the dumpling onto his plate wordlessly, with little emotion given to the gesture. Long seconds ticked by, moments of rising influx until a heated, sharp sensation broke the silence. Silent and infuriated, another swift smack saw the Prince's head whip in the opposite direction, blood rushing to cheeks for all the wrong reasons. "..."

There was a hierarchy to hatred, you see.

Guess who was under Jin-Wei, in that regards?

Sandled footsteps hastened out the door-way within moments, fists balled tightly in frustration of teenage years. How many years had it been since he was assigned his father's punching bag? How many backhanders to the face was a lad supposed to take before he did something drastic? Occasionally, he wondered if he could truly do away with the old snake himself. Wouldn't get anything out of it-- it would be too obvious-- right? Well. The young hatchling made sure to shove their unwanted arrival out of his stride, too.

"I hope your fish dies."

Maybe he'd make sure such a thing happened.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world felt so alien beneath his toes. Grass that was still a little damp, but grainy from the sand that had blown upwards from the beach. It encouraged him-- he could hear the waves dance with the shore, and despite his lacking sense of smell, he knew the air was salty. Every few, carefully placed steps gave way to a whole-hearted stumble, many a time did his palms meet with the ground and graze slightly from the impact-- but with a few glass shards in him and the strange feeling of clothing wrapped around his form, he wasn't for quitting over trivial matters. He would see who caused such rukus, tell them his good-bye's, and then return-- what if Prince Amanti had wandered to his room already? He did say he wouldn't be long, after all!

Well, consider Sindre's uneven footsteps hastened.

The beach wasn't far away, though it felt as though miles had traversed with these clumsy appendages that land creatures called legs. Sindre quickly grew frustrated with them, arms splayed since he found that the best form of balancing himself. Just a few more steps-- who was that shadow before him on these shores? A fellow Mer?

"Ugh..."

Something hit against his cranium. Hard. Dizzy shuffles found knees and palms stuck fast to the ground, his eyes struggled to focus on the dancing pictures they presented to his mind, the world spun uncontrollably on an axis, the cherry ontop being the pounding sensation in his skull. He was a run away mer-thing, after all, and, true to Yao's words, he hadn't gotten far. It didn't take any amount of brains to guess that something of his species would bee-line for the shore, and the guards had taken less time (being able to use their legs to a normal degree) in reaching the sands than he had. Sindre refused to lose himself to unconsciousness, though. This feeling struck him with an odd sense of Deja Vu... yes, this was how he had wound up in the palace, wasn't it? The seconds before he was dropped into a glass box... glass... box... Amanti must have thought him disloyal, running away the moment his back was turned! "Hnn.." No, no he couldn't let the Prince think that way of him. Another strike to the skull banished that optimism, all that was left was an albino boy, decorated in glass shards and ill-fitting clothes strewn across the sands, and a traditionally armoured guard with what appeared to be some form of baton.

Fish really were stupid, he must have thought. No wonder they were jokes of intelligence that paid homage to them.

[tenebrae16]

This was a really bad beginning wasn't it? There was no other way for anyone else to put it. Amanti could recognize the callousness held back in the Emperor's strained dismissal. And the Fae could not help, but wonder if perhaps he was partially responsible for the harshness taken in admonishing the Crown Prince. If perhaps the Emperor was redirecting his contempt towards scrutinizing and berating the slightest mistake in his son's demeanor. Amanti paused in his seat, his grip tightening on the edge of the table as the growing tension between Father and Son ensuing from that single command made him start to feel hot under the collar, the feeling gluing him to the ground he stood on as if he felt it far too awkward to just up and leave in the midst of all the antipathy. Despite what sort of person he might've been coming off as so far, he was not a coward and would not flee once the situation got tense though as who he was, he was not sure if he had right or even means of quelling the two boiling blood of two Dragons.

Nothing could prepare him for the sudden whip of the boy's head to the side as Yao's hand flashed briefly before it was withdrawn gracefully into his robe as if it had not just effectuated such a unsparing action which to Amanti was not validated in the slightest. The boy hadn't...he didn't..do anything to warrant the physical blow. The prince flinched, stepping back before he was shoved aside as Jin-Wei dismissed himself in a huff.

In his mind, a Son should never leave his Father's side with unresolved conflicts and ill thoughts and a Father should never look at his child with such scorn and fury as if he be better off without the day of his ill gotten birth. And he had no right to interfere in the familial matters of others, let alone that of royals in a kingdom not his own. The atmosphere left behind him made him start to question once more if it was the wisest or even the best choice still to seek protection and friendship amongst the dragons. If their Ruler and his heir was...

"Goodnight, Emperor, I pray you will rest well." He bowed low, keeping his gaze fixed to the ground as he turned on his heel and shuffled off, keeping to his word and hailing a serf to escort him back to his room, even though he wasn't planning on retiring early tonight.

Bidding the serf a goodnight and wishing her well for leading him back, he wasn't sure how much comfort he could take in the fact that his doors were now free of all traces of ink. What worried him most was what awaited him inside his room. But what more was he expecting than not to see Sindre there in his tank? He supposed he could never have trusted the creature to stay put, but he had promised he'd still be here to speak with him. And that was a naïve belief on Amanti's part, but all the same he could not blame the Mer for choosing to hurry his escape. He only wished he had stayed longer, but he wished more that Sindre had made it back to the ocean, however way he had managed to do it. Hopefully.

Stepping into the room, he had expected to see the reminiscence of the tank shattered across the floor, water spilled everywhere, but it appeared that they had swept up the glass and mopped the floor before he came back. Silly of him. The staff here were very effective at least. He didn't know if that was meant to compensate for the strain between their Emperor and the Crown Prince. The negativity of such harsh emotions towards each other still lingered fresh in his mind. It was just wrong.

Making sure no one else was near his door, he closed it quietly and headed straight for the balcony. Eyes fixed on the starry night twinkling outside and ears peeled to the crashing of the waves below. He was convinced that the Mer had escaped out this way, it seemed like the only possible route for the creature. And Amanti wasn't tracking down his tracks and routes to stop him, only to make sure he had gotten to the sea alright. And maybe...well, he did want to learn about the creatures if he could, even though the Emperor had told him never to venture out near the shores, if this was the reason, then he had nothing to fear in actuality, correct? Even with Jin Wei's own attempt to scare him, he didn't believe the was any real danger to these shores.

Very unfortunately, as he crossed over from the polished floor of his room to the rougher chiseled stone of his balcony, he found that not all the glass had been swept up. Several twinkling shards had escaped notice, lying idly in the corner of the night darkened balcony; like fallen stars becoming sharp deadly spears as they embedded themselves into the soft flesh of his heel. His eyes widened and he made a soft squeak before he went down.

Perhaps he should've worn the sandals. Clutching his knee against his chest, the Prince inhaled as he twisted his leg to see the crystalline shard sunk halfway into his foot, deep golden liquid oozing up from around it, shining in the blackness of the night, golden before it dimmed to a silver. Running thickly down his heel until it splashed ruby red onto the floor. Dead finally. Canines digging into his lower lip, lungs filling shakily with air, he tried to still his trembling. Reaching down and drawing the shard, his brow furrowed as it slowly slid from his skin, seeming to never end. Exhaling, he crouched forward, numbing pain flaring in his foot as he set the long spearheaded shard aside. The sanguine across it turning red after it's final brilliant show of colors.

He was not one to keep a pessimistic outlook, but he wondered what more could go wrong in one night.

Making do with torn cloth from his own rags, his foot dangled wrapped in it's loose bandages from over the edge of the balcony as he climbed over the railings. Lowering himself down before he could continue to second guess himself further, he took a breath as he suspended himself from the edge of the rail and let go.

Tumbling onto the soft sands, he rolled, trying to pull in his injured leg close to his body to avoid any further injury or open the wound any wider and split his leg open. Dressed in the rags he came here in, not wanting to ruin the careful weaved silk and satin threads provided for him, he grit his teeth at the pain running through his foot before he attempted to push himself up into a standing position. Hands and knees sinking into the soft sand. Huffing, he managed to find some denser packed land after a good deal of crawling forward. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for; tail tracks? Ah, one step at a time, first step was standing to take a step. Eventually managing to push himself up onto one leg, his minor celebration over this accomplishment was cut off short by the commotion started a little ways away.

Squinting, he glowed a little brighter in the dark, providing his own light as he spotted the dark figures in the distance; a hulking deformed shadow, most likely a guard adorned with bulky armor, and a smaller figure splayed across the ground beneath him. His heart skipped a beat and he tried his best to limp across the sands as fast as he could towards them. Already knowing what he suspected as he approached the small party gathering.

"Hold! Stop! I am the Prince of the Fae!" He called out, voice partially lost to the winds as he approached the weary guard. He doubted they believed him in his rags and with his own wild version of a fast limp. He didn't care if they believed him, he just wanted them to cease their actions. Nearing them confirmed his worst fears and he legs gave out just as he reached the limp sea creature. Knees hitting the sand, he hovered over the man, filing away the fact that it was undoubtedly the same creature, only with legs this time, afraid to shift him in fear of hurting him more. Turning up to the guard, his eyes glowed brighter; the darker side of the sun seeping through, "You, bring him to a doctor! Now! Don't just stand there!"

---

The waves engulfed his form as he dived into the safety of the dark waters. Drifting along the currents, through the rocks smoothed over by centuries of erosion, he stared, watching. Infuriated. The crashing waves hollowly echoing his anger as they angrily whipped their arms across the shore, clawing forward like some gigantic beast eager to climb out of it's pit and reek havoc upon those guilty of treason. Helpless, he watched them bear down on the young Mer creature. He watched them raise their weapons even when he was already down and his blood boiled and bubbled over. Foaming, burning, dark eyes watching, thirsting for revenge. His legs flicked across the surface as he watched a second beast crawl over the sandy dunes of the shore and kneel by the child of the sea.

And then, the waves washed over him and those watching eyes were gone. For the moment.