Marquise

Marquise jogged here, having heard many tales of the adventures and the strong ties between Cloudkeeper's clan and the Lair by the Sea... and also that his father once hailed from here, and that he had kin here.

He was looking forward to meeting his brother Eleos, until he met him.

It was probably inevitable that Marquise should define himself in opposition to his arrogant, narcissistic, and idle sibling. A master at holding his tongue and schooling his expressions, his aplomb attracted the attention of Cheimon, who mentioned him to Reina.

"He's got elegant manners, and a sound tone of mind. Maybe...?"

"Maybe," Reina said, and sent Marquise to the trainers.

Marquise had never planned to be a fighter; he knew himself to be delicate, a throwback to his father's original fae genetics. But he applied himself, enough to develop confidence in his skills, and this seasoning pleased those who oversaw his education.

"About ready now," Imbrius opined.

"I think so," Reina agreed, and approached him several days later. "A job," she told him. "That maybe you'd be interested in doing."

Marquise, sleek and quietly assured--but still young enough to want to prove himself--perked his crest and folded his wings as he dipped his head in respect to the clan matriarch. "Of course, mistress?"

"We need a diplomat," she said. "To allied clans, to new clans, and to the beastclans of the places we are traveling through. I don't suppose you'd be interested?"

"Oh!" Marquise exclaimed. And then, more quietly, but firmly, "Yes, Matriarch Reina. I would be happy to serve."

"He did what??"

"Went to serve the Lightbringer?" Song of Songs started rewrapping her bandaged hands. "Even went to the Mire for training and everything."

"Eleos?" Marquise said, stunned. "Wanted to serve anything? Except himself?"

Song laughed. "As if serving the Lightbringer is some great hardship? He chose the terrestrial service, Marquise. Where he'll probably read romances and pretend to catalog them while eating grapes in order to 'assess their quality.'" She smirked. "He lands on his feet wherever he drops. You know that."

"But... but... he really left? To do... work? He left."

"He did." Song nodded, crest feathers slicked back. "And I'm glad. Not because he was a bad drake, mind you, but gods and stars was he awful at... just about anything. Certainly no good at fighting. And that fluorescent hide of his in the Mire!" She shook her head. "Ridiculous. Even more ridiculous covered in mud." Straightening, she fluffed her wings to settle the feathers. "Anyway, I thought you should know, since he was your brother."

"T-thank you," Marquise said.

"No problem."

Left to himself, Marquise... found he couldn't move. Or think. His brother, the layabout, the wastrel, the drake full of sly laughter... gone? To serve the Lightbringer? It hardly mattered that he hadn't chosen the celestial service, though that didn't surprise Marquise. Dying on an altar would have been too much work for Eleos. Lying around on a pillar somewhere, eating grapes, though?

But not reading. Reading took too much effort. He'd find someone to read to him, and nap.

Uneasy, Marquise resumed gathering his materials for his next meeting. But he couldn't help but wonder... what would he do now, without his brother to compare himself to?