There was a lump in his royal throat as he watched and listened. That was something he was good at doing. There were desert beetles that made the faintest of clicks and clacks. They were very charming creatures, as some of them were known as 'scarabs' and had shells of precious metal. However, in a sense, they were useless. They were nothing but pests- and didn't rid the desert of gnats and flies. What use were they? 

Admittedly, Cyrus was thinking more about the elusive scarab beetle than the winged lion feather he had twisted between two fingers. For some reason, he felt a little lightheaded and allowed his thoughts to wander off into the stars. 

But something did bring him back into focus. That being mention of the Casseion clan. Golden eyes widened a bit in disbelief more than anything. That name... that cursed wretched name of a cursed wretched people. They had ruled the desert more or less a millennium ago, but the scars they had bore into the land and its residents remained. Fear, anger, and other dark feelings... That was all the cruel civilization had struck into the hearts of everyone who came into contact with them. Struggling for what to say, the prince stammered. 

"Y-You're lying.." He muttered. 

All knew of the infamous clan, that had stained the sands red with blood. They were near-invincible, and to defeat them, it required harnessing the very essence of the desert's spirits. The secrets to do such a thing was lost with the advancement of time, however. But Cyrus was taught the Casseions were executed. Why, then, did this man claim to be a member of such a group? Even if he wasn't telling the truth, who would lie about coming from such a dark heritage? Then again, Rulan was just a lion less than a few moments ago... 

Could it be... this man... was telling the truth?

Cyrus simply looked with wide eyes at the man in front of him, searching for an answer.