Open Chronicles Both Eyes Open [Annuakat]

[Baenon]

Palace district.
Sparing courtyard.

Creeping ivy broke the glare of alabaster walls at the far end of the courtyard. Gentle conversation drifted from the alcove of shade offered by the open sides. Mago stood beneath the afternoon sun watching the efforts of a young warrior-in-the-making as he drew what seemed like the 100th arrow for the day. Sweat beaded off the young man's forehead and down his bare chest. Brows affixed in concentration over impossibly pale blue eyes.

The bow creaked under the weight of the draw in tune to the breath he'd slowly drawn in.

A moment to aim, and then -

SSSFT - THUNK.

Another arrow sunk squarely into the inner circle of the target.

Mago allowed a faint smile to pull at his otherwise reserved features, arms folded at his back, stance straight and grounded. His son was proving to be a student worthy of praise, but he'd not yet truly been tested.

"Good," the Prince spoke finally, the tamber of his deep voice breaking the silence of the yard like a distant rumble of thunder, "you are still relying too much on your arms to draw the bow. You wait too long to inhale, bear the weight across your chest and shoulders and you will not tire so quickly."

Malkahn glanced back to his father, wiping the sweat from his face, and heaved a sharp sigh, "You make it sound so easy."

"You will, too, when you've done it as many times as I have. Take a break," Mago looked to a servant at the side waiting on standby with water and refreshments, "but hurry up." The man cast a small smile at his son and turned slowly on his heel to the welcome cool of shade. These days, he surmised, would be fewer over time. Talk of war was on everyone's tongue and he needed his son to be ready.

 

[Ashuanar]

"Mago would be a powerful ally to you here in Annuakat, Vizier. I know your contempt for humans is-"

"Please, Nak'Ehim, I am far from that wayward nomad who you met long ago. I know full well where to place my hate, and where it would be better deferred."

Nak'Ehim nodded, certain Ashuanar spoke honestly - and astutely. He was getting better. Nak'Ehim had been the Vizier's most trusted confidant for some time now, and while he could hardly say he didn't share Ashuanar's spite for the wrongdoings against his people, in fact even more so was likely. He had just learned long ago the advantages of tact.

The Vizier had certainly come far. Perhaps too far. He had not been blind to Ashuanar's distractions as of late, distractions which would perhaps prove problematic, perhaps soften him. Perhaps too much of either or both.

But that remained to be seen. And there was business to attend to.

"You would do well to speak with him personally. From what I understand he is a man who appreciates that sort of thing..."

"Such is true of most men of value, I have found."​

The Vizier ascended a long and lovely stair, enjoying the peaceful tranquility of the palace grounds. Here in this serene place he went without his usual covering, and instead tied his hair up behind him his head in a traditional Abtati style. His face was decorated with a modest amount of ink, tribal runes recently inscribed on his flesh. They did not detract much attention given his complexion, but their presence was notable.

SSSFT - THUNK.

He heard the distant sounds of discussion carrying out over the gentle breeze. His eyes wandered around to examine the gardens, beautiful as they were. They reminded him of someone present on his mind of late, and it was a welcome reminder. Following closely behind him were two of his tribesmen, one of them carrying a sturdy and ornate case, with golden hardware and meticulous decoration.

He leisurely entered into the courtyard, and found the prince there overseeing a young warrior in training. His son no doubt - he could see resemblances from even where he stood, some meters away. He halted, and he too quietly observed the young man's techniques while he waited for the prince's acknowledgment.

He had no desire to intrude on any sort of activity between father and son.

 

[Achates]

It was an odd time of peace, but war was always on the horizon. Achates decided today she’d leave her quarters and explore. It felt like some time since she had just wandered. There were duties that she had to deal with as Vizir of the Treasury. When she was initially appointed, the young woman assumed she was going to spend her day swimming in gold coins.

That wasn’t the case, sadly.

Time passed, and her wandering feet brought her to the courtyard, eyes followed the arrows as they shot, all hitting their mark. Nodding with approval, she continued to watch. Seeing the arrow sink in the center of the target, Achates let a small clap out – hopefully not loud enough to interrupt the moment between the men.

Arms folded at her chest, the silk of her garments moving and creasing at the elbow. Rose-colored eyes moved from the men to Ashuanur; she was curious as to why he was here

Ashuanar Mago Matahari

 

[Medja]

The sacking of Salitra had come and gone, which meant that things were to return to the usual droning monotony of Imperial bureaucracy for Medja of Ragash. Time spent in the palace in Annuakat was time that the courtier had to find ways to keep herself entertained. Never an easy thing to do in this place. Sometimes she wished she was back in one of her offices in Ragash, deliberating on which Ragashi noble to extort or blackmail. Here she couldn't get away with anywhere near as much. After all, she wasn't running this place...yet.

She reminded herself that Ragash had also become dreadfully droll. Being at the top of the proverbial food chain was mind numbing in its own right. Gerra had offered her a new playing field and the sorceress was wont to pass up on such an opportunity.

So it was that Medja found herself meandering down an open corridor on the second floor of the palace this day looking for the slightest bit of amusement. Thus she found herself gazing down into a courtyard, watching a pair of viziers watch a prince watch his son practice archery. She shivered. Hopefully no one was watching her, as well...

Noting that everyone involved seemed content to watch and wait, Medja quickly decided that this was quickly becoming inane, and thus decided that she'd be the one to break the silence. She stepped into the palm of one of the Fists of Aramekh and used it as a stable platform with which to descend from her perch into the courtyard proper.

"Good afternoon, Viziers and nobles," She greeted the group with her usual courteous and measured tone. As she drew near the ground the other fist moved below and in front of her, allowing her to step down onto it and then the ground - which she of course simply chose to float inches above anyways, rather than let her foot make contact with it.
"I was not expecting to stumble upon such a high-profile congregation. It is a pleasure to see you all."

 

[Xaviera]

The Queen of Tyria had taken to visiting the bazaars of Annuakat in the mornings, browsing the wares and occasionally buying things or placing orders for delivery for items that were too large for her to carry. Today she had come across a beautiful rug at a stall in the city that she simply needed to have. The negotiations were difficult and took longer than usual, but she ended up with the rug, as well as an agreement by the merchant to produce two large matching runners. She ended up paying a little more than she would have liked, but not as much as the merchant had originally asked.

Thus, she returned to the palace later than normal, finding a Tyrian servant - a member of her retinue - waiting with a sealed packet for his mistress. After a brief bow, he handed it over and backed away. The young queen unsealed the parcel and unfolded it and began to read it, winding her way through the corridors she thought she knew well while she absorbed the contents of the letter.

It was a dispatch from Tyria, detailing what was happening in the court in her absence. This was a dispatch of the unofficial variety, however, and provided details on the personal conduct of her grandmother, who was serving as regent, and other principal players in the Tyrian court. So absorbing was the contents of the letter that the Queen of Tyria was quite turned around, and thus ended up in the courtyard playing host to an archery lesson, although luckily not on the same end where the arrows were flying.

She stopped and was included somewhat improbably in the greeting of a woman who appeared to be levitating just above the ground. Xaviera, usually a woman of few words but especially given that she was halfway through a rather alarming letter, merely returned the greeting with a courteous bob of her head before her attention returned to the letter for half a moment. Then her head snapped up and she looked around.

Where am I? she wondered. Had she been to this courtyard before? How had she gotten there?

 

[Baenon]

And just like that the previously empty courtyard had become the meeting grounds for the Empire's VIP list. Mago's brows lifted upwards into his hairline as he turned to the owner of the voice introducing itself. He did not find just one single woman, but two Viziers and the Queen of Tyria. He offered a surprised smile, "Nor was I. Had I known to expect such company I would have worn my nice robes."

The man chuckled, a deep tone that rumbled in his broad chest, and offered a curt bow to the group of them, "I welcome you all to share in this space on this ... lovely day. Allow me to introduce my son," a dark hand gestured to the young man to join him, "the young Prince Malkhan. This is Viziers Achates and @Ashuanar," the same hand indicated the elf presently aloft and the linen-wrapped man, Mago knew of them only through his attendance at court, though he'd not yet properly met them. Mago's gaze peered briefly towards the back where the Queen seemed to be coming to terms with her current location, "her highness, Queen Xaviera of Tyria, and-" pale eyes shifted to Medja before him, "I am afraid we have not been introduced. I am Prince Mago."

Malkhan quietly stood by his father and offered those presented in turn each a respectable bow of his head, bow held at his side, and let his blue eyes linger on Achates. The young Prince smiled.

"Your Highness," a dark skinned woman wearing purple silks and adorned with gold ornamentation approached Xaviera and swept into a deep bow, "I had heard rumor of your stay in Annuakat and am pleased to greet you at last. I am Navithi Matahari and I grew up in Tyria."

 

[Ashuanar]

SSSFT - THUNK.​

Ashuanar arms folded across his chest while he watched for a time as Mago's son sunk several more arrows into his target. The Vizier gave a subtle nod of approval, mostly to himself, for what he saw. He would make an excellent archer in the army someday - perhaps.

SSSFT - THUNK.
​

Before long, there were far more people present than just moment ago. An illustrious cast, no less. Ashuanar observed them. His eyes met with Vizier Achates, and he nodded his greeting from where he stood at the opposing end. Queen Xaveria was present, examining a letter of no small importance he would guess. When he looked to her, she was engrossed in her reading.

SSSFT - THUNK.​

And then she appeared.

He watched Medja's descent from the palace with a careful gaze. He betrayed nothing, but his stomach twirled just so at the sight of her. He took in a deep breath.

"Good afternoon, Viziers and nobles,"

"Courtier," he replied with a most cordial regard, a hand placed on his chest with his head deeply bowed.

He approached them.

"I welcome you all to share in this space...
...the young Prince Malkhan. This is Viziers Achates and Ashuanar,"

Ashuanar regarded Mago and his son in a similar, yet more formal manner, "my lords. We are honored by your invitation."

Behind him stood the other two Abtati, one still holding the ornate case in his arms. Ashuanar thought it polite until the prince and Medja - since they had not yet met - were properly introduced before presenting it.

 

[Xaviera]

The Queen was somewhat embarrassed at the circumstance and felt at once as if she were intruding. She had felt that rather a lot during her stay in Annuakat. She had been named to the Imperial Divan - a sop, she assumed, to shore up Tyrian support for the Empire - but despite this, she felt like an outsider. She was about to retreat from the gathering when she was addressed by the dark-skinned man opposite her across the courtyard. On closer examination and using context clues, she was able to identify him as one of the princes - Maho Matahari.

The Queen lifted her head gracefully. "Your Highness," she responded, bobbing into a slight curtsy. The rules of precedence were somewhat muddied given Tyria's position legally outside the Empire, but courtesy was courtesy.

The woman who approached was similar in complexion to the Prince, and when she identified herself the relation seemed confirmed. When Navithi said she had grown up in Tyria, the young queen's eyebrows lifted in surprise and delight. "Did you, indeed?" she asked, her nervous expression breaking into a smile. "I'm pleased to meet anyone who has been to my homeland. I hope you have fond memories of our city."

Xaviera folded her note and tucked it into a pocket sewn into her sleeve, absent-mindedly examining the woman. Was that Tyrian purple? she wondered to herself before her gaze returned to the woman's facial features. "Whereabouts in the city did you grow up?" the Queen asked, leaning forward to murmur confidentially: "I'm desperate to hear of Tyria, if only memories. I have been away too long."

 

[Medja]

So many had come to meet within this otherwise uneventful courtyard! Medja regarded the prince thoughtfully, a gentle smile curling across her lips, then returned Mago's respectful bow to both him and his son.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princes Mago and Malkhan. I am Courtier Medja of Ragash, a humble sorceress of the God-Emperor's court."

The sorceress examined each of her fellows in turn. She and Achates had had little opportunity to speak since her joining the court, but she had hoped that would change following her little..encounter with the ever irritating Acteon Cass. It would be nice to figure out why they both gave her a slightly uncomfortable feeling whenever one was about.

"Courtier,"

Vizier Ashuanar's presence would certainly make this interesting. She had been intending to play with him a bit more since the Sacking, but had found their schedules to be a tad conflicting. He held his composure together remarkably well, though Medja attributed that to the very formal environment they found themselves in. Most notably he was free of his usual wraps, allowing the courtier to see the vizier's face in its well chiseled entirety.
Mmm, yes, he'll do nicely...

Lastly was the ever illusive Queen of Tyria. Much like Prince Mago, Medja had not personally encountered this one in her time as courtier. It was always a treat to see fellow living spoils of war among Gerra's in crowd. The queen seemed a tad aloof at the moment, but recovered quite naturally into the conversation as it began. A natural socialite, it seemed.

In any case, all attention was on Mago and his son, and Medja was not one to fight the social flow. She decided to play along with the frivolities of small talk.
"How are you finding life under Lord Gerra's rule, dear princes? I do hope the transition has not been too jarring."

 

[Baenon]

Mago took a single, calm step forward to meet the Courtier, gently taking up her proffered delicate hand and leaning to kiss her knuckles, "Always a pleasure to meet a Sorceress."

Straightening and releasing her hand, the Prince clasped his arms at his back and noted, somewhat curiously, that the woman looked at him at eye level. His gaze openly dropped downwards, noting that she was, in fact, floating nearly a head off the ground.

"Hm," he remarked, smiling briefly before turning just enough to bring Ashuanar into the circle of conversation, "Jarring, yes. In his efforts to claim Annuakat nearly half of our royal lines have fallen. 30 were we Princes," gaze of pale amethyst settled on his son, one of his hands following to grip the young man by his shoulder and draw his attention away from Achates, "and now half as many stand. The ..." Mago's lips peeled back to bare white teeth in consideration of what label he would give the upheavel they'd experienced here among their Court of Princes. In the end, he settled on what Medja had given it, "transition has been a complicated one; leaving gaping wounds, grieving families, power vacuums, and many yet in need."

Malkahn's smile had faded to a sobered expression of thought. He had learned well not to speak when in the presence of Courtiers, and never over his father. The young man remained respectfully silent.

"Life has become difficult, in many ways for many people," Mago offered plainly, "but we of Annuakat endeavor to see our challenges head on until it is better than it was before. I am looking forward to working with his Eminence and those of his circle for a brighter, prosperous future."

~~~

"I do," Navithi nodded, smiling warmly, "many fond memories. I grew up in the river district Avine. My father is a silk merchant. I was wed to Prince Mago's brother, Abkadu, in my 16th summer, and moved to Annuakat to be with my husband. We travel to Tyria many times a year to visit my family."

Navi leaned in to hear the Queens whispers, seeming shocked to learn the Queen had not been in her own city for such an extended period of time, "I am afraid I have been away as long as you, your Highness. Once Annuakat became part of the Empire there has been ... so much to do here."

She frowned, glancing over her shoulder towards where Mago and the others spoke, before leaning over to whisper back to Xaviera, "Mago's wife passed in child birth not a month before the God-Emperor's forces arrived. I have taken the child under my care so that the Prince may focus on his new duties within the Divan."

 

[Ashuanar]

Then perhaps, good prince, we would be pleased if you would accept this token of our appreciation for you here in Annuakat, and of my friendship to you," and his eyes fell to Malkhan, "and also your son."

At this time the tribesman holding the case came forward, bowed, and presented the case to the young prince Malkhan. The two latches flipped open with a loud shunk! and the lid cracked open. Inside, protected by many scrunches of linen, wrapped in silk was an unstrung bow. It was a finely crafted composite bow made of northern Falwood's maple with Ar'kuul tusk and sinew. It was tastefully decorated with golden decor, embedded with ruby, jade, and amethyst.

"I saw fit to have this gift imbued with some... additional value."

The bow would offer the user an enhanced stamina regarding its use, as well as ignite a burst of light in place of a sacrificial arrow at the wielders discretion.

"I hope that you will find this to your liking," he said with the deep nod of his head, to both Mago and his son.

Mago Matahari Medja Xaviera Achates

 

[Achates]

Achates caught the gaze of the sapphire eyed prince, the attention he gave her in just that moment caused the elven girl to blush deeply. A shy smile returned, but with the announcement of the others and Medja breaking the silence when she arrived, her attention pulled. Mago spoke, and Achates nodded. “Pleasure to meet you as well your highness.”

She listened to the father as he spoke of the Princes that used to rule this land. They were numerous until Gerra took over. Her throat and chest tightened as she realized what must have happened to the Princes that decided to stand against the new regime. The thought made her uncomfortable, so she instead focused on the conversation.

Moving closer to the courtyard, she focused on the prince. “Are you enjoying your time, Malkahn?” As she spoke, Ashuanar presented a gift. "That is beautiful, Ashunar."

Mago Matahari

 

[Medja]

Well now...in stark contrast to a particular Immortal captain she had interacted with the other day, Mago actually knew how to greet a lady. This one was already earning points in Medja's ledger.

Unlike so many others around the palace, this prince was actually expressive. It was actually rather refreshing to have someone who didn't try to conceal their every mannerism. Medja took special note as Mago spoke of his fellow princes and the level of tact he displayed, despite the rather sore subject. He certainly wore his princely title well.

"You have my condolences, your Highness. I know your pain all too well. I saw many of my Ragashi kin slain after the Battle of Ninagal..." A half truth expressed with a genuine tone and a sad expression. Many Ragashi nobles had in fact died at the hands of Gerra and his conquering army, but Medja had hardly felt sorry for any of them; on the contrary, Medja had welcomed her new lord to her home with open arms. For the sake of developing an empathetic bond with a potential ally, however, it was a convenient play.
"Yet, if not for the God-Emperor, you and I may never have been given the opportunity to speak on peaceful terms as we do now. I share your sentiment, and I pray that all of Amol-Kalit can work together to make Lord Gerra's vision a reality."

Medja gave another polite, subtle bow as she concluded. Again, not an untrue statement. Gerra's little project was an endlessly fascinating one, and the courtier loved to see progress.

"I hope that you will find this to your liking,"

Medja eyed the bow curiously. A surprisingly courteous gesture from a military official. His type wasn't usually well suited to politics. The gift itself was...nice...if a bit gaudy. Anyone who knew how to properly decorate such an artifact would've done so with emeralds, and the lack thereof was painfully evident.

 

[Xaviera]

Avine - the river district. "I know it well," Xaviera replied, a wistful smile crossing her features for a moment. "It is beautiful there, and the water helps to keep the summers from being too stifling. I was considering taking a house along the river for the upcoming season, but my advisers tell me it is out of the question." She let it pass without comment on what she thought about advisers telling a queen what to do with herself. Instead, she added with a hint of self-indulgence: "I may do it anyway, and damn the advisers."

"I have left my grandmother in charge of affairs while I've been away. Every morning I cast my gaze to the west and pray I don't see smoke rising. So far, no news is good news," she said with a chuckle. "But it is important to support the Emperor when called upon, however homesick..." Xaviera glanced up at the sky as a vivid bird flew across the open space, then leaned closer again, as if to hear the woman's confession.

Xaviera had heard of the subordination of the princes, though the details escaped her. The details were worse than she had heard - personal tragedy compounded by political upheaval. "It's too awful," she murmured, dark eyes gazing at Navithi, shining in the refracted light. After a moment she cast her gaze back towards the father and son on the other side of the courtyard. "You must be doing well. He looks a fine lad. How often do you make it back to Tyria? Does he enjoy the city?"

 

[Baenon]

"I certainly am now, M'Lady," Malkahn replied to Achates, his eyes having followed her approach most keenly.

"There are many in Annuakat," Mago began in response to Medja's commiserate words, "who would say your Ragashi kin got nothing less than they deserved."

At this comment Malkahn's attention shifted back to his father. It was unlike the man to speak poorly of others for any reason and enough to draw some shock into his expression.

"The same people now that presently grieve for the loss of their own loved ones," Mago continued, "and the hardest pressed to break bread with an old rival. Regretfully, some of them would sooner starve. It is my hope that the manifest of the Empire will help them to see their shortcomings and grow beyond old rivalries."

The Prince's gaze turned next to Ashuanar and his retinue as the chest was opened and the gift offered. Mago's brows lifted visibly but it was his son who seemed the most enthralled.

"Magnificent," Mago exclaimed, deep voice booming as he carefully picked the bow from its bed of linens and silks. Pale eyes inspected the weapon with the gaze of someone very familiar with such things, "remarkable craftmanship. Is it made by your people?" Turning it one way and then another, sunlight catching in the polished stones and delicate gold, his eyes turned past it to his son who stood looking upon it in awe. Mago smiled and handed it over to him, motioning for Malkahn to try it out.

The young man eagerly set aside his own bow and took up the gift with care, moving to string it up and test the draw, "It's so light," Mal remarked as he pulled an arrow from his quiver and readily drew it back. Seemed the young Prince cared not to be on display in front of such a prominent crowd of eyes. He took a moment to aim and let it fly.

SSSFFT - THUNK. It was not a perfect bullseye, but it had split another arrow in the target down the middle. Malkahn grinned, "It's like shooting with air."

"A most gracious gift, thank you Vizier," Mago smiled, "I have little in the way of such gifts to offer in return, but the Matahari family has overseen the bloodlines of the royal horses for twelve generations. I would be honored to take you all on a tour of the stables and a ride through the countryside. What do you say, Viziers? Lady Medja? Queen Xaviera?"

 

[Ashuanar]

"Please, I expect no gift in return."

"I would be honored to take you all on a tour of the stables and a ride through the countryside. What do you say, Viziers? Lady Medja? Queen Xaviera?"

He afforded a glance to the others, "I would be honoured."

 

[Medja]

"There are many in Annuakat, who would say your Ragashi kin got nothing less than they deserved."

Medja included. Many of the nobles she had worked for were nothing less than worthless pond scum, endlessly scheming bastards who did little for themselves beyond reveling their lives away. Their hedonism did little to save them from Gerra's purge, in the end.

"It is my hope that the manifest of the Empire will help them to see their shortcomings and grow beyond old rivalries."

Medja gave Mago a polite smile and another slight bow of her head. There would always be some level of power struggle within the Empire, and a united Amol-Kalit simply meant war for the rest of the world, but that level of controlled chaos was certainly something Medja desired.

"I would be honored to take you all on a tour of the stables and a ride through the countryside. What do you say, Viziers? Lady Medja? Queen Xaviera?"

Oh gods. Horse riding was not something Medja had practiced immensely in her unnaturally long life, nor something she found to be particularly entertaining. Declining now, however, would likely reflect poorly on the courtier. Damnable social obligations.
"I, too, would be honored, your Highness."

 

[Xaviera]

So engrossed by her conversation with Navithi was the Queen of Tyria that at first, she did not realize she was being addressed by her brother-in-law. She looked distractedly away from the beautiful woman at the mention of her name, squinting across the courtyard. She paused a beat, on the verge of refusal. The letter tucked into her sleeve pocket was burning a hole in the precious silks, and she wanted desperately to finish it and to set her mind at ease regarding how things were proceeding at home.

And yet, there were opportunities at the court in Annuakat to make allies for her people. She could make better use of her time than to spend it all shut up in her rooms with ink and paper.

"I'd be delighted, I'm sure," Xaviera answered, offering a slight curtsy to the Prince. Her penchant for horses was, after all, something of a curiosity in her city, where the fashion was for litters and ships. "Thank you, yes." Her attention shifted back to the woman before her. "Will you come out as well? I should like to hear more about you and your family if you feel comfortable sharing."

 

[Achates]

Smiling, Achates moved to speak again to the Prince, but the present took him that Ashunar had presented. Sighing soft, she continued to smile and listen to what the father had to say. She entered the conversation late but listened intently. Breaking bread with rivals, a concept that she had never heard or seen though she assumed it was what was happening.

She was addressed as part of the group and nodded. “That sounds wonderful.” Eyes trailed towards the Prince, but she didn’t dare ask if he was tagging along. Looking towards the group, she made a soft mention, touching on the bread breaking.

“I hope those that decide they would rather starve, know that they will always have a seat at the table. In the end, I hope that peace is what is on everyone’s mind…” Achates spoke softly, but if someone heard her - she hoped her nativity didn’t shine too brightly.

Mago Matahari Ashuanar Medja Xaviera

 

[Baenon]

Some time later ...

After a brief tour of the stables and a quick selection of horses appropriate to each rider, Mago lead the group out past the eastern gates of the city. For Ashuanar he chose a black annua-khal stallion called Rih - the fastest horse in all of Annuakat and winner of a great many Endless Sands race. For Xaviera a beautiful pearl-toned annua-khal mare called Siva, gentle and quiet as such that the Prince trusted even his young nieces and nephews at her back. Navithi rode her own horse, Damali, a silver-colored annua-khal mare.

Medja joined the Prince himself in his chariot pulled by two copper-hued trekena stallions. Achates joined the Prince's son Malkahn just infront of them in another chariot pulled by a second matching set of grey trekenas.

They turned south off the main road, heading along a narrower path that wound down through hillsides of orchards toward open plains of billowing golden wheat.

"These many orchards once belonged to Prince Takef but are now under my house following his death," Mago explained to Medja as the chariot wheeled along, "Takef was blessed with many daughters and his younger brother died many years ago. Without an heir, his and many other estates of lost Princes have passed to those that remain."

The Prince glanced back to Ashuanar directly behind them, "What of you, Vizier Ashuanar? Have you family?"

Navithi and Xaviera were just behind Ashuanar, discussing Tyria and family as well, "My husband enjoys the river market," she smiled, "to spoil our daughters with beautiful things. When we go he says to them to find the most lovely thing they can so he may buy it for them - then one day my daughter Sahti decides the most lovely thing in all the market was a boat."

Navi sighed with a shrug, "So, now we own a boat."


Malkahn was busy showing Achates how driving the chariot stallions worked, "These lines in this hand, like so between your fingers, and these lines in the other hand. On turns you lean in to keep the chariot balanced behind them. In competitions we drive with a second person leaning off the back, the tighter the turn the closer to the ground they have to be. I saw a man lose his head once to the wheel of a passing chariot in a turn-" the young Prince laughed, "it is a dangerous sport."

Up ahead, towards the far end of the wheat fields, clouds of dark smoke began rising into the sky.

 

[Ashuanar]

Ashuanar took in a deep breath as they rode. It was indeed a wonderful day for such an occasion. It pleased him that the day would find him in such grand company. Mago had certainly proven himself to be quite pleasant to be around. Nak'Ehim was quite right it seemed.

The dark horse he rode was an effortless steed. He handled himself perfectly, and responded without hesitation. Before long the Vizier was smiling, quite proud that Mago had seen fit to allow him such a horse.

But his smile trembled when the prince regarded him.

The Prince glanced back to Ashuanar directly behind them, "What of you, Vizier Ashuanar? Have you family?"

Spoiler: He remembered...

Walking across those burning sands was torture. It was hell.

They kept on just dragging him along, forcing him to keep himself walking. His wrists were bound together, and connected by chain to the person ahead and behind him. They towered over him...

He was only a child...

The men and women cursed him for slowing them and invoking the wrath of their slave masters....

They whipped him.

They beat him.

They left him...alone...

"where are you, father...?" a stifled sob...

He cleared his throat.

"I lost my mother and father, and was seperated from my brothers and sisters - many years ago now."

His eyes drifted away and out over the fields for a time, but when they came forward again they caught the sight of the rising smoke ahead of them. A troubling development - fortunate that they would be here to observe and hopefully put a swift end to.

"Seems we have a problem, good prince."

Mago Matahari Medja Achates Xaviera

 

[Medja]

Riding in the back of the chariot was an uncomfortable and new experience to Medja, but markedly less awful than riding horseback. She preferred the relative stability of the wheeled vehicle to the bumpy trot and gallop of an equine any day. The Fists of Aramekh sat snugly by her sides within the chariot. She imagined slamming one at full speed into some foreign enemy would be incredibly satisfying, but shook this sudden debased thought from her mind.

The view of the countryside was both beautiful and relaxing. Medja spent so much time in the upper echelons of society these days that sometimes she forgot about the rustic charm this part of Amol-Kalit had. She felt like every day she spent in Annuakat was putting her more back in touch with reality. She didn't know whether that was a comforting or disturbing feeling.

"A tragic loss of life, to be sure," The courtier sympathized, observing the sprawling meadows and groves. "But it seems you've come out quite well in spite of such misfortune."

"I lost my mother and father, and was seperated from my brothers and sisters - many years ago now."

The sorceress kept quiet at this revelation. She couldn't relate. Sometimes she liked to imagine what it might've been like had she grown up in a loving family instead of as an orphan on the streets of Ragash. Perhaps she would've died happy, surrounded by loved ones some centuries ago. Perhaps she would not be currently taking part in reshaping the surface of Arethil. Maybe one day she'd stop playing the game, settle down and give up the Siphon. Maybe...

"Seems we have a problem, good prince."

Her eyes had glazed over in her daydreaming, but Ashuanar's warning brought her back to reality. There was in fact smoke billowing up nearby...black smoke, not the kind one might expect to see from a natural Kaliti brush fire.

"This bodes poorly, your Highness. Do you staff guards out this far?"