Noctisardor Bypass steel your heart, the dawn will come

Viridian eyes cast skyward, the firesprite finds his heart ensnared; caged in the confines of skypiercing slate ridges, a callback to ancestors beyond even the most ancient depths of Amadis's studies. He knows in an instant that he must see it, this cinereous palace carved to the heavens. The prince forges on.
When at last his gaze falls on the verdant carpet of the narrow inlet cut between windhewn walls, his steps taper to a halt. Wolf-scent here, bold and fresh, overlaid with the astringency of urine. Foreign to the royal, whose homeland has long thrived under the privilege of relative isolation, yet instinct guides him. The warning wards him several steps back, and briefly he flounders. Seclusion has served him well, but the valley calls to him.
A short interlude, before curiosity dominates. Muzzle tilted to the heavens, he looses a call for any who might answer, a thin lilting melody sustained across the distance only by virtue of his domestic heritage.

a coughing fit weakened mahler as the howl rose above the forbidding stone walls of rivenwood.
he sank weakly to his haunches, swearing in his guttural way. but between speedy and iana, as well as his own treatments, the blood had not returned.
for this mahler was grateful, though he took some minutes to put himself in order before descending from the high reaches into their boundaries.
the creature in front of him reminded the gargoyle of kavik's child, though without the hardness that had marked the silverwraith's voice and eyes. pelted in shades of autumn, the princeling was anything but what mahler expected from a man.
his steps were at last stilled as he stood steadfast, towering over the tiny wolf in his usual expectant silence.

Minutes flit by, fleeting as seconds, and Amadis begins to wonder if he might be ignored. Perhaps the wolves of the valley entertain no visitors; perhaps no one is home! Tickled by the whimsical notion, his patience is renewed — and rewarded, in short order.
Oh!
A giant, come thundering down from his dome; a golem, carved of the slate of his mountain home. The prince trembles momentarily, and stills himself through great effort as the stone guardian nears. A sweeping bow brings him low, chestfur mingling with sweet-smelling flora. Even in stupor, he holds the royal manner close to him, and finds himself glad of it. Amadis rights himself, and summons his voice back to him. Good day, He begins, suppressing a shiver. To address such a creature, a towering sentinel straight out of childhood tales — ! I am Amadis. The splendor of your palace caught my eye from afar, and I felt compelled to seek the history of such a place. If the Sovereign of this kingdom finds it agreeable, I would very much like to learn more of the story enclosed within these mountains; to stay for a time, if permitted. I offer my own knowledge as trade — that of the wilderness, patterns of prey and weather, and how they might be exploited.

the jaws opened, and poetry came forth.
mahler was rather amazed at the contrast — or was it not at all. someone with his own bulk would offer their strength. this man offered tales and navigation of the natural world.
there was a word for it, but mahler did not offer the heavy syllables of his natal tongue: not yet. hard enough, often, to parse his accent as it applied. "rivenvood velcomes those who are skilled."
the sovereign of the kingdom
a fanciful and flattering notion.
"i am mahler, its graf. vhat is your name?" he asked of the ethereal creature, still wondering how a poet and bard came to be part of such a wild place.

A foreign lilt to the golem's words, syllables mangled in a manner the prince finds pleasing to the ear. An accent, he recalls from past lessons, ever delighted to find practical purpose to his vast wealth of imparted knowledge. True to the royal bearing whipped into the bones of him, Amadis remains a neutral, affable presence, revealing none of his surprise or his childish glee at the new experience. Rivenvood, the elfblood repeats in his thoughts, then quickly corrects himself — Rivenwood! Easy enough to recognize the ways the sounds warp and twist with the reference of known words to guide him.
A pleasure to make acquaintance of you and of Rivenwood, Graf Mahler, The firetouched royal echoes the name to commit it to memory, making great effort to mirror the guttural tones of the foreign title. He waffles, briefly, over the offering of the extent of his name — his own titles. The pause is imperceptible, a blink and it is done. In my homeland, I was known as Amadis Katriel Vaea Elvhen. But... I am here, now. Amadis will suffice, if it please you. A deferent dip of his head, a touch bashful. Guilt tugs at his heart; he feels deceitful. Yet he cannot imagine the ruler of another land would take pleasure in hearing of Amadis's own claim to leadership, however far off that claim might lie now. It is not relevant here, nor wanted, and he soothes himself with that thought.

amadis katriel vaea elvhen. 
it was the spiraling, royal largesse of silvercoined words; it was the language of the one who had once been queen of courtfall, queen of his desires; wife to wintersbane.
how odd and how normal that they should share both sagtannet and the glimmering regent as well
how memory made a fool of him!
mahler, listening again, sheepishness sharpening him back into attentive nodding. 
a man of ethereal titles surrendering them for the simple elegance of amadis.
"a pleasure indeed. i shall call you amadis, then," mahler said, gesturing as he turned back into rivenwood, that the newly made pinne might walk at his side. he had appreciated the man's attempt at his own soundings.
"there are children here, perhaps more to come." somberly, a thought of laurel.
"they vill find you." a smile, yet keep a distance for now was an expectation mahler would have of any stranger. even one so fey and regal as this one.
"have you any questions for me?" he would rather leave a joiner to their own devices, for fear of suffocation with his presence. today he was more inclined toward following one's lead.