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Hey all! I hope you're all doing well. Here's the next part of Belatos Inkwood's journal about Solunara.

He has been granted an audience with the Diurnal Crown and as such, he describes his experience of the Horizonfire Audience - one of the most central rituals of this foreign realm.

I hope you enjoy reading about his observations. Don't be afraid to reach out if you have any ideas or topics for Belatos to explore.

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Excerpt from ‘The Realm of the Diurnal Crown - Uncovering the Myths of Solunara’ by Belatos Inkwood

Part 6 - Audience with the Diurnal Crown

As the sun began to touch the horizon, the bell towers of the palace rang, marking the change between day and night. The custom of bowing towards the Hall of Horizonfire was not practiced inside the palace. Instead, everyone headed towards the hall, and I was guided there by the vassal that was still by my side. He had told me that he was to return home to the Blossom Isles when a decision had been made regarding my work in Solunara, so the remaining time he was by my side, acting as both translator and guide to me, was limited.
The Hall of Horizonfire was a vast circular hall. To the far end from where we entered, was a large window showing the setting sun. The entire hall was bathed in the evening glow, fashioning shades of gold and reds. In front of the window stood two thrones, one gilded in gold, the other in silver. They were placed on each side of a pedestal, intricately carved with celestial symbols of the day and and night. The pedestal was placed on a bronze line going straight through the Hall of Horizonfire, dividing the floor in two equally large sections, with the left side consisting of a bright marble, and the right side of a dark marble. They were not wholly white or black, but they were noticeably different in brightness.
On the sides of the thrones furthest away from the centre line were other pedestals, each carved in just as intricate details as the centre pedestal. On the left pedestal, however, rested an orb. It glowed, casting a pattern of bright golden blots onto the floor and throne. It seemed like some sort of crystal orb encased in branches made of bronze, but I was too far away to properly note the details of this orb.
On each side of the bronze line were four other chairs. The members of the Council of Horizons were seated there, with ample space between them for guests and members of the court could witness the audience. The distance was greatest between the chairs placed closest to the bronze line, giving a clear passageway from the door to the thrones.
Along the walls behind the Council of Horizons, numerous beings were seated, presumably to spectate the audience. I suppose a number of them were other guests and petitioners to be presented to the kings.

This setup, with the Council of Horizons and spectators facing these thrones, displays the importance of these diarchs. The fact that the audience is held in a hall of such a vast size highlights that this is a central element in the culture of this court.
However, the display of importance and influence of the kings do not necessarily correspond with the allocation of power in practice: The real power can still be with the Council of Horizons, with these audiences being a ritualistic display used for legitimising whatever decision already made by the Council. This way, it may seem like the kings are in control, but if the Council of Horizons tells them what to do and decide, the actual power resides with the Council and not the kings.
The fact that the Council decided to give me an audience with the kings does imply that my matters are not theirs to decide upon. Though, I cannot be certain that the decisions made by the kings are theirs completely, or if the Council has decided beforehand what their verdict should be.

As the door closed, the tortoise sage Iryndor Whisperwind got up from his seat and went to the leftmost pedestal, the one with the orb, meeting with a female giraffe that seemed to also be some kind of sage. Jointly, they grabbed the orb and carried it carefully towards the centre pedestal, clearly displaying the orb between them. As they reached the centre, they placed the orb onto the pedestal with great care, and as it touched the pedestal, the right half of the orb began to glow a shimmering silver.
As the orb was placed, the two sages bowed their heads at each other synchronously and retreated from the centre. They placed themselves before pedestals standing on each side of the thrones.
This ritual and the orb evidently bears a symbolism, given the careful and choreographed performance of moving this orb from one pedestal to the other. Perhaps it is some sort of time indication to display when the Horizonfire is in session?
As the sages retreated, two other beings approached the centre: From the right side, a female crane, and from the left, a male hyena. They stopped as they both reached the bronze middle line and turned to face the spectators. The crane proclaimed something in the Solunaran language which I could not decipher at the moment, but I was told by the vassal that it was something along the line of:
“Everyone; rise for their Holy Majesties, The Diurnal Crown, King Kalior of the Golden Flame and King Selanor of the Silver Glow.”
By the sound of a fanfare, the crane and the hyena retreated and placed themselves on each side of the thrones. Everyone stood up and bowed their heads as a lion approached the thrones from each side; one with golden fur and a fiery red mane, the other in dark blue spotted fur with a shimmering mane of silver. They wore robes of fine linen, the golden lion, Kalior, wearing a bright warm green colour, and the silver lion, Selanor, fashioning a deep purple colour. As they had ascended the steps to the thrones, they faced the spectators and said something in unison that I had the vassal translate for me later. They said something along the line of:
“As the sun burns and the moon watches, so do we reign: Two thrones, one crown, one people, one Solunara.”
In response, the two sages spoke in unison, which I had translated into:
“The Horizonfire burns eternal.”
The sages bowed their heads once more and retreated to their seats. Iryndor sat down at his council seat, while the other sage took a seat to the far right end of the hall.

This procession underscores the religious connotations to this display. The actions of the sages, the clearly rehearsed lines, and the choreographed movements of the participants are all ritualistic components. Thus, these kings may still be nothing but religious figureheads, acting as proxy sovereigns for the Council of Horizons.
So far, this audience has shown the importance of religion in Solunara: The kings are acting in a ritualistic procession regularly, and the solemnity of the execution of these rituals underscores the importance of doing everything correctly as prescribed by some convention.
Of course, the gravity of religion and customs in a royal court seldom corresponds to how much importance the regular citizen in a realm puts into these topics on a day to day basis. This cleft in virtues between commoners and the elite usually proves how much the rulers are out of touch with their subjects. And as this cleft grows larger, these groups become further estranged, which eventually leads to a revolution by the layman. This happened in the Democracy of Nidilaar, that was, as you probably know, dear reader, known as the Empire of Nidilaar before the people overthrew the imperial family and the rest of the aristocracy.

The kings sat down on their thrones, and the audience began. There were a few beings before me with what I believe to be various petitions and problems that would need the attention of the kings. The crane seemed to present the beings approaching the thrones, while the hyena seemed to note down everything that happened during the audience.
The members of the Council of Horizons rarely spoke during the audiences, only reacting if one of the kings directed his words at them. This could be by asking a question or giving a verdict, judging by the tones and reactions of their interactions.
Unfortunately, I could not ask the vassal to translate everything for me, so what the different matters were, I cannot explain here. It could have provided insight in the current matters of the realm, which in turn could give us an idea of the societal structure and advancement, based on their problems.
The vassal aided me in when I was to approach the thrones so that I did not accidentally break any protocol. I approached the kings as the crane presented my name, and as I reached the spot where every other guest had stood, I bowed before the sovereigns and tried my best to say a line in the Solunaran language that the vassal had taught me to say. It could be translated to:
“Bow once, serve twice.”
I suppose this line is yet another ritual of the Horizonfire Audience, acting as a means of showing that the petitioner is serving both kings. Just like bowing often is a signal of respect for the other party, saying this line forces the petitioner to say that they are at the service of the kings. That is, at least in a symbolic fashion, given it is to be said when bowing before the two thrones.
As I had said the line in the best Solunaran fashion I could, Kalior, the Day King, told me I pronounced it quite well.
But he did not say it in the Solunaran language, nor in the language of the Olyssari: He spoke in our language. The very language that you are reading at this very moment, my dear reader. He spoke Inivari fluently. As did Selanor, the Night King.
That revelation was truly perplexing. There had been no record of any interaction between us and Solunara, and given the vast geographical distance between the realms, any past linguistic interactions are highly unlikely. Our languages do not seem to share a common root. At least not so recently as to be evident.
The kings were visibly amused by my perplexity, but did not speak any further. I spoke to them in our language to make sure they really spoke it, or if they, like me, had learned a phrase or two to appear more welcoming of a foreigner at their court. They replied to me that they spoke in whatever language was most comfortable for their guests. And that would naturally be in their native language.
I must admit that it brought me joy to speak Inivari after spending so much time in foreign realms, even though I cannot fathom how the sovereigns of such a far away realm had any knowledge of our language.
I presented myself and my expeditionary goals for the kings, and they showed quite the interest: They allowed me to stay in Solunara to study the realm and its people, on the condition that the knowledge should serve as purely academical material, and that I share information of our realm with them as well.

I will dedicate the next part to the full conversation as I recall it: The rest of this part, I will use to describe the remainder of the Horizonfire Audience.
I thanked the kings for their generosity of letting me stay and finished our conversation with a bow, before I went back to my seat among the spectators. A few other matters were presented during the audience, until the sun had fully vanished over the horizon. The kings rose from their thrones, prompting everyone else present to do the same, and Kalior, the Day King, took the orb situated between them and handed it to Selanor, the Night King, with both hands and a bowed head. Selanor accepted the orb with both hands and a bowed head, and they then turned to the spectators, raising the arms furthest from the other king.
Then, they said some sort of benediction, where Kalior said what I had translated to:
“Let the night begin.”
And Selanor replied:
“Let it endure until the turning of the sky.”
In response, the rest of the court said the line:
“The Horizonfire burns eternal.”
Selanor handed the orb, which now gleamed entirely silver, to the sage Iryndor, who placed it carefully on the pedestal to the outside of the Night King’s throne. The kings then descended from their thrones and left the Hall of Horizonfire from their respective entrances, along with the crane and hyena. This prompted the door, from which we came, to open as well, and the spectators began to leave the hall as well, thus concluding the Horizonfire Audience.

So this is what takes place every time the bells toll at sunrise and sunset. Having a ruling scheme of one sovereign reigning by day and the other by night, does provide unique problems such as the transition of sovereignty from one diarch to the other. This is, I believe, solved successfully with a ritual such as the Solunaran Horizonfire Audience.
Having audiences jointly with the power transition allows for both kings to hear and decide upon the presented matters. But if they do not agree, how do they reach a verdict? And which of them holds the most power when making decisions? They cannot both wield the power of one man at the same time: That would require them to think as one in order for any decision to be made during these audiences.
The Solunaran Horizonfire Audience furthermore had clear religious connotations, given the choreographed nature and the inclusion of these sages. It is not uncommon for sovereigns to be intertwined with religion: They are often the heads of the main religion of the realm, while others may be considered the very deities the religion of the realm is worshipping. While Kalior and Selanor evidently had a connection to the religious practice of Solunara, I could not determine if they were one or the other, based on this Horizonfire Audience alone. I will have to speak to these sages to learn more of the religious practices of this realm.

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