[.x.] Th golden solar fades slowly 'hind th' snow-tipped moutains, casting a amber glow on th' topography forming th' emerald fields. From deep within th' blazing azure firnament, a dappled orb slowly fades into life, casting a smoky glow 'pon th' river winding its way through th' lands. An alabaster czar beats rhythmically through th' lands, 'is soft-stepping gait failing to make even th' slightest o' whispers as 'e traverses through th' abode. Deep amber oculi survey th' terrain - a hint o' apprehension flickers through 'is windows as 'is keen nares pick up th' scent o' th' one e' is seeking. Flints brush th' overgrown blades, pillars help carry 'is moon-drenched frame up th' increasing gradient o' a hill. A gentle wind whistles past th' sovereign, ruffling 'is smoky banners. Ivory-thrown tassels fall to 'is angled blades, lune-touched flag is brushed lightly o'er dappled flanks. Handsome features are graced with a long, winding forelock, which trails in a silvery path to 'is lower cheek.

Autumn quickens 'is paces to a low-stepping two-beats, but still keeps 'is flint-falls soft and gentle in order to not disturb any equine than th' one 'e is seeking, th' traitor Illishar. Cast from th' Blesseds when 'twas discovered 'is ventures to th' Cursed lands - 'e was considered a disgrace and all self-respecting Sacreds avoided 'im. But now, Autumn is ready to swallow 'is pride and ask for th' support o' Illishar. 'e knows that 'is temptress be a Cursed, and that ‘e must feel indisposed toward th’ Blessed’s, but ‘e is ‘oping to appeal to th’ side within im that ‘e knows at one point followed th’ pathway to ‘eaven. Blowing softly through ‘is nares as ‘e becomes satisfied with ‘is position, ‘e throws up ‘is crown and whinnies loudly into th’ particles, th’ breeze whipping away ‘is lyricals from th’ moments they become loosed. ‘e shifts ‘is weight to ‘is right pillar and paws at th’ sod in apprehension, knowing ‘e was th’ one who first exiled Illishar from th’ Sacreds. Their list o’ allies ‘ad grown thin o’er th’ past years – ‘e was one o’ their last resorts. If a choice arose between ‘is pride and th’ lives o’ ‘is dear ones, ‘twould be no question in ‘is respose. Illishar is older than ‘im, and though only by a year, ‘e still is slightly anxious as to what th’ brute reaction to ‘is appearance will be. Pacing ‘e draws ‘is flag gently ‘cross ‘is dappled hinds and waits, keen pools alert to any movements around ‘im. [.x.]

The proud stallion watched the intruder enter his sire's lands. His gaze moved across the sun kissed geo, searching for the alpha. Seeing no one coming to the stags call he decided as heir to approach the newcomer himself. He catches site of his dam in the cover of the shadows. Others would never have noticed her. But the crimson hued stallion knows where she lurks within the land. She is normally by the lord and it's strange to see her by herself.

"What are ye doing intruding in these lands."

Hissed lyrics were directed toward the unknown equine. Aidan may not have been a dark but he was no light either. His emotionless pools moved over the stranger. Daggers halted a few yards away. He is ready to attack if this older stallion wants to steal the lands. His body is motionless as he awaits the other to speak.

[.x.] Th' King jumps slightly as 'e 'ears hissed lyrics from 'hind 'im. Spinning quickly 'round with a grace shared by both 'is mother and sister, 'e plants 'is fores to th' geo when 'e 'as rotated one hundred and eighty degrees, to come to a sudden halt and be able to lay orbs on th' newcomer. Hazel pools take in the young czar, and, judging by 'is features 'e suspects that th' coltine is th' spawn o' Illishar, th' one which 'e 'is searching for. Though 'e sees th' young brujo as no threat, 'e takes one step back and raises 'is crown to a regal level. Th' hessian should know enough 'bout th' monarchy by now to recognise when one equine 'olds a higher posistion than another. Holding 'is crania at th' level 'e usually keeps it when adressing equines for th' first time, 'is librims pull up into a slightly smile as 'e looses lyricals from 'is chords.

"Young coltine, do not fear for these lands, even though they would be mine for the taking if I wished, I am content with my own." 'e says, orbs sparking mischeviously as 'e hints at 'is position.

"My buisness is not for ye, begging yer pardon, 'tis for yer sire... if I am correct at guessing from which stag yer features were inherited from. Would ye be so gracious as to inform thee of 'is whereabouts? 'e asks quietly, sensing another presence near which 'e can tell is not a czar. Orbs flicker downwards as 'e recognises that th' coltine's daggers are placed in such a way 'twould be easy to attack 'im. Rolling 'is orbs inwardly 'e parts 'is librims once more, but this time not to question th' young stag, but to caution 'im.

"And czar, ye do not need trouble yerself with yer warnings o' combat, I do not wish to fight ye. All I wish is to conduct my buisness with yer sire, then leave. If ye wish to learn to fight, I suggest ye visit my sib, Moonlight Dancer, at the desert." 'e says, dropping yet another subtle hint to 'is identity, for 'tis widely known that 'is sib Dancer is the successor o' Aalaya. Shuffling 'is flints to arange them into a more comfortable stance, Autumn sighs as e watches th' czar carefully, fully aware that this stag is not a Sacred, but not a full Cursed either. [.x.]

"And perhaps you have forgotten he is actually related to the great Aalaya. It's sad Autumn that you need Dancer for equines to even know who you are."

Came a noble voice from the shadows. The proud czar stood, his crown higher than Autumn's. He was in his land and he would go by his rules. A cold gaze was directed upon the stag not even worthy for his title. Illishar had earned his name from a young age as his sire had and as his granddam. He laughs at the fools that dare call him a traitor. They have easily forgotten the one they hold almost as high as a god left them from the darks. Left them to birth the evilest dark there ever was no less. His uncle Legesain.

He circled around his son protectively. Aidan was his last hope. He was the last of his blood and his only heir. He certainly didn't trust this fool with Aidan. He stopped in front of Aidan, his flank in front of his chest. It hurt him when Aidan threatened to leave for that filly. Illishar would give his life for him all to know he grew up ruler of this terrain. So idiots like Autumn didn't get them.

"Your business is with my heir as well, these lands will be his one day. When he earns them as I had. Unlike some who gains position only by the blow of another."

He said coldly, meaning his uncle and Autumn's father.He smirked slightly, he was not afraid of Autumn and never would be. Moonlight only got her position because it couldn't be taken by a blood relative. He snorted and pawed the ground, his head was slightly lowed to protect his neck.

"Take my lands? Even on my deathbed you wouldn't be able to beat me in battle."

Illishar hissed, but with snake-like reflexes and graceful movement he was at Autumn's side in a flash. His librims curled upwards in a threatening snarl. His hatred for the beast was plain. No one messes with his family and Autumn had cross a fine line between respect and rudeness for his son.

"Unless that's a challenge Autumn. Then by all means, battle me for my lands. It would be my pleasure."

He hissed coldly. His every word dripped with venom and hatred. His words laced with the promise of death for Autumn if he dares take up that offer. Autumn may be able to pick on an untrained coltine, but Illishar knew to well he wouldn't dare to actually fight him. Maybe he would amuse Illishar and have the oh-so great Moonlight Dancer fight for him. She would probably do better than him anyway.

[.x.] Autumns harks flicker backwards as he senses the arrval of Illishar. Although not suprised to see him, he has had enough experiences of unwanted appearances to last him eternity and beyond. Orbs darken as he meets the icy gaze of the older czar, realising that the animosity that he had shown the last time they met has not faded at all. Noticing the higher altiitude that Illishar's cran is held, he too pulls 'is flaxen crown up higher than the Lord's. The brujo may not respect him, but he is still his King, and he will not tolerate the cocky behaviour of the brute. At his words his gaze too darkens to an icy glare, wanting nothing more than to lash out at the czar. But he controls himself and instead musters all his energy into remaining perfectly still, except for his orbs, which follow Illishars concentric paths around the younger coltine. At the mascs next lyrics, the moon-drenched czar snarls angrily, able to stand insults to himself, but not to his late father. He has always believed that his fathers death was a tragic accident - there was nothing he could have done about it. After all, he had only survived three winters when the tradgedy happened.

But after all that has happened over the past months, he has begun to doubt himself, something that he wishes he could stop. When he looks around he sees older and wiser stags than he, and thinks that they would make much better Kings. Having barely any memories of his fathers instruction, he has had to bluff his way through many problems, including the most recent clash with the Curseds. The killing of Legesain was a pure fluke, and in truth Autumn believes he should have been the one condemned to the eternal lands. As much as he knows that Illishar's words are lies, he cannot help but wonder if he should be King after all. As Illishar has said, it is not like he had earned the position, it was only blood right than caused him to be burdened with leadership. Glaring angrily at Illishar, determined not to bullied, he answers back in cold, harsh, tones.

"My fathers death was a brutal murder - I had nothing to do with it." comes the infuriated lyricals from his chords. Some are less fortunate than others - for all you know, your own son may be left alone with no guidance. I would have gladly earnt my position, but harsher times forced the burden on me before my time. Do not condemn those who have been forced to make decisions without assistance, they do the best they can, yet others still denounce them. he says, glaring fiercly at Illishar. He will not take this kind of discourtesy from the hellion, plainly annoyed at the fact that he had come here to apologise, and all he gets his insolence from the bitter vocals of the brute. He notices Illishar's defensive gesture and smiles inwardly, but that inward smile quickly fades as he sees the bastards audacious smirk.

As Illishar worms his way to Autumns side, the King snarls and leaps a few paces away, not in fear, but uncomfortable with the leering gestures of the older hellion. He growls, tempted by the offer of open combat with the czar, but restrains with his duty in mind. He knows that Illishar will probably take his refusal of combat as cowardice, but, in truth, he doesn't really care. If Illishar refuses his proposals, he can go back and settle his disputes will the traitor on the battlefield, but, although almost totally conviced of the Lord's response, he cannot say he has not tried if he offers full clemency for his actions. As the hellion continues to taunt and tempt him with threats of a battle, he merely remains silent, and, when Illishar has completed his derision, Autumn moves a pace closer to the behemoth, almost so close their maws are brushing, parts his librims to begin his lyricals.

"Illishar, I do not come to fight, even though you may wish it. I do not come to take your land, what was your fathers is rightfully yours. I come to offer you, and your family, clemency for your actions. I am not glorifying what you have done, treason is a dishonourable thing, but I am willing to grant you pardon, and the protection of the Sacred armies, weakened as they may be at the moment." he says, keeping his tones polite, but not completely so. Drawing up his stance, Autumn watches Illishar closely, ready for any attack he may make. [.x.]

Cran rose up at the same level as Autumn’s. Aidan didn’t care about the position Autumn held. It didn’t interest him. If the Light King wanted respect, he’d have to prove himself worthy of respect. Dark pools caught site as his sire approach. A slow smirk etched his features. Bodice wasn’t in attack stance now. He shook his cran at Autumn’s words. He didn’t need to be taught by some light how to fight. He parted his librims to let out a hiss laced with a cocky tone.
“I don’t need your pathetic light sibling to train me how to fight…It’s in my blood.”

He watched his father as he walked up. Crimson banner flicked at his hocks in annoyance as his sire circled him protectively. Annoyance also glowed in his pools as his father stood in front of him but he stayed silent. The young hellion pinned his towers. His smirk never once faltered. Orbs cast a glance behind him, hearing a shifting of foliage. Noting it’s only his dam, still in the cover of the shadows, he turns his attention back to his sire and the King.

Towers flattened again as he hears the king’s offer. He wanted to refuse and run him off. They didn’t need some light’s protection. Aidan knew better than to speak up though. These lands weren’t his yet so he had no choice but to follow what his sire says. He knows his sire is wise beyond years. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he figures Illishar knows what’s best for them.

Illishar smirked at Autumns words. He sees how the stag tries to reclaim his honor by heightening his cran. As if that would right all the wrongs and mkae him noble once more. Illishar didn't have to be taller to see that stag for what he was, a scared coltine. Lost without his dam. The older stag carried himself with such honor and wisdom it was amazing. His step never faltered as he paced slightly in front of the King.

"Aye a brutal...terrible murder....but I timely one at that wouldn't you say. You knew, did you not? That another was coming for him. And what did you do to protect him? Very convient...his death. No you didn't have anything to do with it, and for that reason the bugs tear away at your sire's carcass."

He said in a calm tone with a smirk. Was that anger in the oung one's voice? Yes it was. He would keep on playing his game, anger was his fuel. He fed off the emotions of others. He parted his librims to speak again, he wouldn't be finished until this bastard's spirit was broken.

"My son will never be without me, for there is no brute in these lands worthy enough to wear me blood upon his maw. Burdens? You know nothing of burdens. Do not expect pity from me when you deserve none."

He notices the brute moving away. Fear? No. But he is uncomfortable with him. Which is just as nice. When the colt remains silent he knows the answer. Perhaps he is convincing himself he refuses the sparr for reasons similar to the fact he thinks he is too good to fight Illishar. It was a royal's reason. A coward's reason. He feels the closness of the stag and does not back away like Autumn had. Instead he steps closer, showing he is unafraid. In a flash his pearls aim for Autumn's maw. He feels something in his maw before letting go and stepping away. Not even bothering to inspect the damage he parts his librims once more.

"There was no act of treason, Autumn. Surely you know this. In order for treason to have happened I must have been loyal to the one a betrayed. I might have bowed to your father, but I refuse to claim loyalty to a mistake like you."

He said in a calm tone, a vicious smirk appeared on his maw. He stuided the King, sizing him up. He grown tired of the constant fighting of the years. As have many of the equines. He like many others wanted peace. Peace they would have, but not by following this light into battle. They could not win and he would only cause more pain. His study pillars carried his frame forward once more.

"Autumn, I want no longer to fight. I will fight this one last battle and then i`m done. I long for peace. I long to know my family will be safe. And I won't know that with you as King. You may not have came here to fight, but you took the chance in coming here."

He paused and gazed at Autumn. For a second his gaze held regret, then turned to passion. He held a burning passion to win this fight. He would be too old too fight in a few years, maybe longer if he was lucky. He had to know his terra would be safe in his dying years.

"I challenge you Autumn, for your land and home. Everything, I challenge you for it. Even you Autumn, cannot ignore these words, cannot run from these words. I no longer taunt and tease, I mean what I say. I challenge you, now will you prove yourself and own up to my challenge? Or will you be a coward and try to run? You cannot refuse my request, if you dare try I automatically get your land and position. So make your choice Autumn."

[.x.] Dark amber orbs follow the brutes concentric paths around him. Sonar pricks attentively to catch the masc's lyricals, gaze darkens to an icy glare as the Lord speaks. Furious, the King too brings his lean pillars into motion; orbs never once leaving Illishar as the dappled masc paces in an oval-shaped path. A low hiss comes from his chords, laced with hatred and digust as the bastard mocks his sire. Listening to his next few words, restraining his tongue in order to allow the Lord his next lyricals, Autumn growls sharply as a wave of pain shoots from his maw; Illshars jaws have reached their target of the most tender part of his maw. Arching his boa, the sovereign makes sure his neck is well protected before lashing out at Illishar with is iron daggers, aiming a lightning-quick strike to his nape with his fore pillars. A soft growl comes from Autumn's vocals as he circles the brute, stormy opticals glare fiercly at the bastard afore tossing his banners from his orbs in order to gain a better view of the brujo, sizing him up. True, the masc is taller and probably stronger than him, but Autumn has both agility and deadly accuracy, and, filled with a burning desire to strike out at the bastard, he feels like there is nothing he will back away from.

Keen orbs notice a change in the Lord's pools. Harks catch his vocals; attentive audits transcribe his challenge. Gaze hardens; determined looks sets into the King handsome facade. Dappled hinds swing dangerously close to Illishar chest as he spins round his face the brute, hostility clear in both his posture and vocals as he parts his librims to answer the bastards challenge.

"Illishar, son of Zanzibar, and Lord of the Sacreds, I accept your challenge. I shall leave it up to you to set the time of combat, but I tell you this; young I may be, but I am not a coltine you can frighten with your harsh words and actions, I be a czar with power of his own, contrary to your belief that I be merely a masc who gained position by the blow of another. If ye think I will willingly hand over all I have to ye, just for fear of death; ye best think again." he says in bitter and hostile lyricals, gaze never once leaving the brute's as he speaks. Shutting his librims Autumn arches his toned curvature agressively, awaiting the masc's response. [.x.]

The damned brujo smirked as he saw the injury `pon his enemy's maw. He snorted, pleased with his small victory. The brute snorted again, this time out of irritation as the sun-kisser's pillar flew out at the small space between them. His daggers rpanced in a quick rythmic dance as his bodice was gracefully carried away. He grunted slightly as the dagger missed his nape but did not fail to graze his shoulder. His hide was thick and no blood poured. A bruise would surface later and if the bastard struck a muscle he would be a little sore as well.

The czar watches as Autumn's pillars make motion and drag his pitiful form around his own. Illishar quickly took up the warriors dance as he counter circled. They gazed into each other's pools and frames. Like starving wolves circling an elk, an air of hostility surrounded them. Illishar snapped out for show, not really aiming for flesh. Their hooves moved in a slow rythmic beat of their own as they failed to ever falter their deadly dance. They scrutinized each other, pointing out hidden flaws as well as obvious ones.

In one swift movement Illishar notices the next step Autumn has thrown in and matches it. Their haunches whirl towards each other's chest stopping only inches apart. He bends his nape so that a glare can be fixed upon the King's visionaries. They stand, their dance ended and now it was time for words. The two warriors stood so close yet hate radiated off of both of them. Illishar's nares flared as he controlled his anger, his sides heaving with frustrated breathes. He longed to strike the foolish colt down now.

A graceful stance was taken that would have made any warrior envies as Illishar looks at Autumn with noble distaste. His harks remained pinned even as the scum speaks. He listens, but gives no visible attention to the words. When the stag finishes his ranting he parts his librims to reply.

"We shall see how much power you really hide away. We shall see if you are truely worthy of your title. Our fight begins at sunrise in Sandy Hollow where the blood of descendants stain the geo floor. This will give you time that you need to say goodbye to you loved ones."

He sneered, his words harsh and uncaring as they flowed from his tongue. His nape arches almost like a snake ready to strike at it's prey. His cold glare fixes on Autumn for another moment before a scream is issued from his barrel. He turned gracefully upon his haunches and walked into the shadows where his queen stood. He cared no longer to waste his time with the sun kissing bastard.

Phantom hued flints shift restlessly within' the cover of the foilige. Dark pools were fixed upon her son cautiosly. The huntress knew the kind of trouble the youngster could get into. So she waits patienly, watching him. A small smile appears on her maw as the Lord walks to the King. Midnight knows that Illishar wouldn't let anything happen to Aidan. She notices Aidan doesn't seem to happy about something the King had said and wondered what it could've been.

Midnight felt it was her fault the lights were calling their Lord traitor. Well it was her fault. Lights weren't supposed to be with darks. She understood that and many times almost feld so he could have a semi-peaceful life. Though she could never bring herself to acutally leave. Other equines had whispered words of haterd toward her. Saying, she had placed the Lord under a spell, being the evil demones she was. It never bothered her to hear the pittful words from lonely mares. They were only envious they could not have the title she held, even though she didn't belong. Her heart belonged here but her soul belonged forever with her kind. She had given up the only life she ever knew, to be with the Lord. All the nasty things that the mares had said about her, she ignored and chose to keep it to herself.

Harks flatten as the challange for King is heard. Why? She hisses in her mind. There was enough trouble around already. They didn't need the lights hating them even more for a traitor taking the crown. If he was to seecued that is. Troubled thoughts floated through her mind. She looked up at him as her mate walked over. She could only manage a few words.

"Why Illishar?"