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- âŗ ( Inir Tibe, Thaelia Heir )
- Inir Tibe was the first to arrive. He, of course, did not travel slowly by carriage or horseback; he took to the skies, spreading large white wings, feeling the cool spring air through his feathers. He normally felt lighthearted when he took to the skies in his other skin, but this time he could only feel dread weighing down his heart. If things went poorly, he could very well be flying to his death. If things went well, he would be stuck in a lifelong commitment with someone who was, as of right now, a stranger and an enemy. It was hard to accept when he wasn't encouraging his father to negotiate. Facing the real thing was much harder than seeing it on a piece of paper. At that time it had been his responsibilities fueling him; as crown heir, he was to be one of the king's greatest councils, and so it was he who pushed his father the most. But as Inir, he was scared.
He couldn't have asked for more enjoyable flying weather, and the irony was that he hadn't. He had wished for harsh weather, for any sort of delay, but the only clouds were far in the distance. They would be arriving much later than he, and the rest of the nobles, and would be of no help to him. The winds were gentle, even if they were against him, and he was able to cut through them easily. There would be no way he could, reasonably, delay, and so it was with a heavy heart he circled around the Peace Castle. As the only building on the continent that was built as a collaboration between the four kingdoms, it was a strange building, but it was the purpose, he supposed. This building was proof they could do something together. And it would be showing that they could do a lifetime, if not more, of things together. He could not circle indefinitely, for his second skin was not an animal found in this region and would eventually be noticed, and so he reluctantly landed and changed back to his human skin.
Those who had never seen one of his kind shift were surprised and shocked. It was not a pretty change, if anything, and he too had been disgusted seeing it the first times. A few servants made to come to him, but he waved them off, dusting the leftover feathers off himself. There would be no fixing his windblown hair, but seeing as this was a day of travel, most of not all the other nobles would be arriving in somewhat similar states of disarray from the day. Everyone except the mer, he supposed, but their frivolousness was also to be expected. The required formalities were over quickly, and at that time all the Thaelian servants volunteered to show him to what they all called the parlor. He finally picked a shapeshifter he was nearly certain was a dove, and they were off. As they went through halls and doors she answered his questions; she was a quiet sort, but she seemed happy enough to settle his curiosity, and he enjoyed the bit of dry humor he detected in her. But sooner rather than latter they arrived at the parlor, and he had to excuse her to return to her duties at the entrance. Even as the only one there he still had to take a moment before opening the door and entering.
It was a medium sized room, strange but beautiful in the way the entire castle was. A fire was going in the fireplace, which he thought was odd as it wasn't that cold, but it may be more for the familiarity and to warm travel worn souls. Seats of all sorts, from sofas to individual seats, were around the room, surrounding tables that held lamps and all sorts of curious displays. Large shells, shining in a multitude of colors, some so thin they were nearly see-through. Some blown glass that was near the same, and then Inir stopped to look at those, he wondered how they had even made it to the palace in one piece. There were some rough totems his own people must have carved, the only bit of decoration his people tended to partake in, to honor their animal. He noticed a bird theme with those, probably in his honor specifically, and he wondered how the carvers would feel if they learned their prince thought such displays were strange. Finally he came to realize most of the various metalwork around the room, from the candleholders to decorative knobs, must have been work of Priewyth, and after a moment of inspection he was able to confirm it, for the detailing was something no one else would be able to match.
He took his time looking and wandering around, probably looking curious to the servants watching from the other room, waiting for those to serve. But he was anxious, and he was sure that, if he had sat, he wouldn't be able to sit still then either. Better to inspect these little trinkets, learn about the others who would be showing up, even if it was only through some little bits of art that he would never really be able to understand or see as anything but impractical. He was a predator, and he wasn't used to waiting for his fate to hit him. He was used to being the one to swoop, to have the advantage. He was out of his depth in this situation, same as he was when he tried looking at this art. Finally he went to add another log to the fire, which had started to burn low sometime in his wandering around the room, and he stood, looking into the flames, as he waited for the others to arrive. The thought of looking at the art any longer left a sour taste in his mouth.
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