• • • forsaken gospels of new

against his better judgement, noxys woke that morning with one mission in mind. landing unto the cay, he had studied laipawa’s ferocity in his travels. he hadn’t been in these lands long, but the equines talked of the island king almost like he was a fond memory. but noxys knew he was alive and well, which pushed his aching muscles onward. the morning chill nipped at his lungs like it was teasing prey — but thankfully, the sickness was starting to drain from him. the sunlight soaked into his golden coat, giving a spring into his step. there was concern creasing his face for a time, lost in thought over what could come of such a meeting. he knew not of the old king of kekoa, and what he did know was drenched in cowardice. noxys wasn’t sure when he’d crossed the undertow of his home into laipawa, but after coming back to, his gaze hardened on the canyons ahead. the golden brute rolled himself to a slow stop, scanning all that he could see in search of the one argemmon. alas, with not a soul in sight, the young stallion threw his nose to the air and hailed a harrowing screech, one that echoed beyond his sight. though it was likely his arrival had already been detected, noxys wanted it known he was here with purpose. as he wait, he couldn’t help but admire the canyon. the red rock was complimented by the gentle greens of the tropics. the sands were warm on his worn hooves, and he might’ve considered a snooze was he here on less pressing matters. it was some time before the winds changed, carrying a new scent to him. he’d noted it that first day washed ashore, causing him to straighten the leg he rested, ears swiveling backward. so there he stood: king of young flesh, awaiting some kind of reaper as if he hadn’t spent his entire life getting here. oh, how his age was both an advantage and nuisance. “fret not,” he called. “i seek the king in peace.”

lineart by hazel
hazel | pretty boy got anxious

The wind whistled through the canyon as the scout, a particularly vigilant young mare of Asami’s, approached Argemmon with a measured gait. Her presence, like a whisper of secrets in the wind, drew the king's attention away from the horizon where he had been lost in thought. His keen eyes regarded her as she approached, and her presence alone spoke of urgency.

"My King," she began, a sense of gravity underlying her words, "a visitor has come from the Archipelago. It is the claimant."

Argemmon's expression remained unreadable, his thoughts moving with a steadiness that mirrored the heavy pressure in the air of late. He had heard rumors of this stranger, a young golden stallion who had come to lay claim to what had once been Nandalie's dominion. Even now, following the Lost King’s disappearance, it was a bold move, and Argemmon couldn't help but admire the confidence and ambition of this new king.

“Where is he now?”

“He made for Capule Canyon, sire.”

Without a word, he nodded to her, indicating that he would follow. The scent on the wind had carried the news to him even before the scout had arrived, and he knew that the time for action had come. As he moved to follow the mare, his thoughts flitted to the state of the archipelago, and to the way the weather patterns had been shifting.

It was as if the very elements themselves conspired to test his mettle.

As they approached the canyon, Argemmon's imposing figure became visible against the vibrant backdrop of the landscape. He was a stallion whose presence commanded respect, his coat a mosaic of spots that mirrored the sun-dappled foliage of the island. His approach was calm, his movements measured, as he made his way toward the young stranger who awaited him. Wordlessly, the scout fell behind him, fading back into the jungle to disappear without a trace.

As Argemmon drew near, he observed the young king's features. The glistening gold of his coat, contrasting with an inky black mane and tail, was striking: an embodiment of youthful vigor. Dark markings like the claws of an angry beast adorned his legs, back, chest, and forehead, giving him an air of something untamable, something wild.

The wind carried the stranger's call to him, a declaration of peaceful intent. Argemmon couldn't deny that he was curious about this bold young stallion — about his aspirations and his vision for Kekoa. He halted a respectful distance away, his dark eyes locking onto the young buck.

"You have found him. Welcome to Laipawa, stranger," Argemmon announced in greeting, his voice carrying an air of authority — and curiosity. He inclined his head in acknowledgement of the stranger’s presence. "I am Argemmon. The wind has whispered your presence on Kekoa for some time now," he continued, “but she has not whispered your name.”

Or your intent.

His words were measured, his gaze steady. He was willing to hear what this young stallion had to say, to discern whether he was friend or foe — and to determine what the future held for their lands.






notes: the start of something fabulous???

as argemmon made himself known, the young stallion was awe struck at the way he looked timeless against the canyon. a long, slow breath left his lungs in a meager attempt to collect himself. where noxys was from, he had no one to prove himself to; he belonged to mustang’s islands as if born of the sea himself. the laipawan king knew not of him. leaving distance between them told noxys there was neutrality. with such, he let the muscles along is back relax, head set lowering and listening intently as the other spoke. with a cordial bow of his cranium, the golden brute gave the other stallion a smile before offering his name. “i am noxys,” he said, taking a moment to look down the canyon where the wilds of the jungle lay before mocha gaze befell argemmon once more.

“i do apologise for not coming sooner — the crossing was none too kind to me. as expected, i suppose,” noxys shrugged his shoulders.“it has been a great many months since i traipsed waters as wild as these,” there was a short-handed chuckle that followed, but he was all too serious. “your island carried me to the archipelago with great ease. for that, i am grateful to you.” another ( this time more genuine ) bow followed.

noxys set back into himself. the other had left … a question? of sorts. it hang in the air above them. he took a small pause before turning his rump toward where he came, tracing the vastness of laipawa with a trained eye. even still, the brute knew treading carefully would save him if things weren’t as they seemed. “i am not from here, this is for certain. but others talk, and i could not stay away from kekoa - it much reminds me of home. i come to seek an alliance.” quickly, his plans unveiled, noxys stood back straight. “i’ve nothing to offer you but my word.”

lineart by hazel
hazel | i love them

An islander, but not from these islands.

Like Nandalie, thought Argemmon, his expression carefully neutral.

One of Astor's finest lessons when Argemmon was a colt had been an illustration of how dangerous assumptions and overgeneralizations can be.

"Golden words from golden lips," mused the mottled king. The young stallion's sentiment pleased him, even if he was not sure how warmly he need welcome another outsider king-to-be.

His first summer, little more than two seasons old, Argemmon had come off Ibika's teat and was undergoing the necessary study of edible foliage with the master ecologist himself. Deep in the oppressive heat of Laipawa's emerald jungles, Astor pointed out a creeping vine with delicate, heart-shaped leaves.

"Name it," he demanded casually.

It was a trick.

"Ipomea," replied little Argemmon with easy confidence, hardly glancing at it. "Sweet potato."

Astor's humming noise of disapproval came entirely by surprise. "Are you sure?"

The horses stopped in their tracks, the older stallion regarding the colt carefully. A playful glimmer in his dark eyes belied his good nature, even if his words were short.

Little Argemmon frowned, approaching the vine with halting steps, searching desperately for the clue his mentor intended for him to find. His coat began to dampen behind his ears and at his flanks as he strained his mind.

If he squinted, really got picky, perhaps these leaves were lighter in color? Perhaps the edges hadn't darkened yet, and they did seem a little smoother, though often times the sweet potato vines looked this way when they were immature.

And these seemed to be climbing the trees more than they spread across the ground, but a vine was a vine, was it not?

"It is ipomea," came Astor's quiet, patient voice from over young Argemmon's shoulder. "But this one will never grow a tuber, and the beast who attempts to consume her shall see through to the realm of the spirits."

Argemmon looked at his mentor in shock.

Astor smiled. "It is blue ipomea, and when she flowers, the blossoms are as bright as the sky. What color are sweet potato blossoms?"

"Purple," Argo replied quickly, eager to prove he was not stupid.

"Very good," said Astor, and he turned to continue back down the path. "Come."

Argo hurried to obey.

"One must become a vigilant observer, and practice seeing differences," the older stallion continued as they walked, "no matter how insignificant they may first appear. For one cannot possibly begin to judge which differences are significant, until one can define them."

Argemmon was filled with respect and admiration for his mentor. (For his father, in his heart.) The lesson was learned.

"Yes, sir."

Noxys and Nandalie were both foreigners from distant lands, but already Argemmon observed differences. Noxys was younger than his predecessor, and where the first had remained a solitary sort of authority during his brief reign, here this one came readily seeking fellowship.

Your word shall have to do.

"Kekoans have been welcome on Laipawa as long as I have been alive," said Argemmon warmly, keeping Noxy's dark gaze with his own earnest one. "I will not change that now."

Argemmon approached, closing the gap between them.

"And, as you make your oath to the Archipelago, naturally this welcome extends to you as well, Noxys."

With a salutory nod of his regal head, the mottled king grinned at his golden counterpart. "We are allies."

"Have you seen much of Laipawa?





notes: omg this was SO FUN to write!! do you want to wrap up here/soon? maybe argo gives him a tour or introduces him to the court, etc etc? (& for anyone curious, ipomoea tricolor contains LSD in the seeds and some parts of the plant hahaha!)