Stories Thread

[Smowz]

It had been a nervous few days for Nevoulas ek Philadelphius, whilst waiting for the long election process he had taken it upon himself to read through the administrative functions of the empire and also taken a great deal of time to study parchments of various details of the finances of logistics of the empire.

However in recent hours his studies had stopped, something else was on his mind and for once it was not his brother.

Then, why did he find himself down in the dungeons of the Asteri quarters of the Capitol now facing his brothers cell as he slept. The truth was he still found comfort in the fact he had found a member of his family.

He was concerned at first that Maka may seek to take his own life, but it seemed something had held him back from his threats. Indeed in recent times they had talked freely of their youth, back when there was no responsibilities, no pressures at all. Now here sat Nevoulas hoping to take the greatest responsibility of all.

But for all the encouragement or the voting patterns at the start of the election, Nevoulas knew celebration was premature. In reality all hinged on the votes of the Basilues. Aleksios Komnenus was a wily old man who had run the empire quietly with careful consideration, he was not a man one could predict easily and this was why running against his son was always going to be difficult and somewhat of a long shot.

His brother stirred in sleep, Nevoulas wondered what he could be dreaming of, his bodygaurds had talked of Makadonias asking questions of current affairs events and he could only wonder what he had made of all this. He had not talked of this to his sibling, he knew it would be greeted with yet more contempt and that he could do without.

His bodygaurd approached, his face a mask, there was nothing he could tell from there the soldier was well trained at least. He reads the parchment that has been handed to him and the truth is revealed - the Basilues has backed his son Ioannis' application for Megas.

Nevoulas smiled as he looked up at his bodyguard.

So, it looks as if my gamble has not paid off I shall not be needing all this after all

Nevoulas motions to the paperwork.

That is unless....

Nevoulas suddenly rises with some urgency. Turns to his guard and says:

I will be some time, I need to run some errands, be sure once more my brother is looked after.

Patting his faithful bodyguard on his soldier, Nevoulas leaves, walking quickly and breaking out into a trot up the stairs.

[Smowz]

It had been a busy few hours and now Nevoulas ek Philadelphius rushed back to check on the current situation in the Magneura.

He rushed up the steps, and then halted before he let himself in, he knew that the Komnenus family may well be waiting having made their decisive votes to announce the winner of the contest. Nevoulas knew that he needed to compose himself and take a victory like a man.

As Nevoulas straightened his suit and walked in he caught a glimpse of a man exiting the main hall into the Orders private sanctum. Initially thinking nothing off it, he waltzed over to his retinue. Once again the Magnuara seemed strangely quiet of life, Nevoulas wondered again about the Moors and the damage they were causing to the senetorial session.

Isakkos my sage, has the Caeser, his house and family voted yet.

Nevoulas' long time keeper of administrative affairs looked up from his notes with a broad grin on his face .

My lord it seems you have gained yet more votes.

Nevoulas sat down beside the old man, perhaps he has miscounted, but no there as clear as day Nevoulas' count had not gone up one but two more votes. But which two men was their left in the city to vote for him.

Armatos ek Naksou, Nevoulas exclaimed as he clenched his fists in delight.

Isakkos looked at Nevoulas.

Isakkos, the estranged new leader of the Order of St.John has made it back after all.

Nevoulas resisted to urge to let out a whoop of delight, he knew that there was still enough senators to turn the vote yet. He looked at his watch and decided it was high time he started trawling through the books of the economies of the empire. Nevoulas had grown to like the idea of becoming Megas and it seemed more and more likely that he may just realize that dream.

[Smowz]

On the road to Smyrna 1142

With the exception of the night watch there was but two men awake at this hour, the worker and his watcher.

The administrative duties of the Megas would tire and frustrate most men, but for Nevoulas ek Philadelphius it enthralled him and gave him purpose. He attacked each issue with vigour, only this morning a third letter had arrived from outposts in the far east with a request for a larger garrison.

The watcher was fascinated by the workers purpose, it was filling him with pride that he thought long since vanished. Nevoulas journey from a young lad, to quiet, reluctant senator to leader of an army to this the Megas has been quite a story. He longed to go over and help but alas he was in fact chained here, a prisoner of sorts. Now it made him think of his own journey and it immediately sank that pride away and filled him with shame. For he was Nevoulas' older brother, Makedonias traitor and murderer of countless Romans. He put his head into his arms hoping they would swallow him.

Nevoulas looked up at the rattle of chains in the corner, thats right his brother was still here, watching him as he had grown accustomed to doing over the past months. It is almost time for him to start his journey, Nevoulas thought, he hoped his brother would find redemption in his plans. He decided to stop for a moment and go over to him.

Over the past few months, Nevoulas following his election had noticed changes in his brother, his loyalty to the Islams had faded and he would now speak freely to Nevoulas and his bodyguard. As he reached his brother he noticed his face was full of tears, he put his arm on his shoulder and was surprised and his brother hugged him forcefully and now wept freely.

Nevoulas Makedonias exclaimed What have I done, how can I live myself here and what will become of me after death.

Maka, I went to Trebizond all that time ago, in truth those men there were less of me then perhaps even the Turks. They greed and incompetence led you down a dark path, I hope to give you chance of redemption. Nevoulas responded.

Redemption Maka questioned...

Suddenly there was a commotion outside, and suddenly a dark skinned man burst through the door carrying a dagger blade.

Nevoulas darted for cover beneath his desk, but the man turned towards Maka. Nevoulas suddenly realised his brother was chained to his chair in the corner. Nevoulas quick kumped on his table and leaped at the attacker as he plunged his dagger into Makadonias side, screaming for help from his guards.

Nevoulas fell backward ripping the invaders blade out of the fiends grasp before he could do further damage as men rushed in to the tent.

As his guards rushed in the man managed to wrestle the dagger back into his control and to everyones surprise stabbed himself firmly through his throat killing himself instantly.

Nevoulas turned to his brother slumped over his chair. No, thought Nevoulas, not now just as I have him back. The wound was deep, and Maka looked on Nevoulas now.

I guess I find out now how forgiving our god is... Maka gasped.

Nevoulas could see his brother was fading as medics rushed in to help, but he recognized they work, they looked as if they could fix this. Turning to his brothers would be killer.

He screamed Who is this man, what was is issue with Maka....

Suddenly Maka pushed off his medic

Brother...

Nevoulas rushed over...

That Nevo is what you call a Moor.

With that, Maka slipped into unconsciousness as the medics continued to see to his wound.

[Smowz]

On a hill near Athens 1146

Makadonios ek Philadelphius had not seen his brother since crossing the Aegean Sea. It had been an emotional journey for him, the closest that he had been to his birthplace, since he had left all that time ago. His thoughts had been on the Moorish attempt on his life, he knew all too well what they were worried about. Makadonios had learned much during his time in the Seljuk army, including the levels of collusion between the great powers of Islam. He knew more of the Moors then most in these parts and he suspected his brother knew this and perhaps that would be his last act to reveal his secrets before his unavoidable execution.

He was now being led on a strangely familiar uphill path lost in his thoughts of the past and as the edged toward the summit of the climb, he recognized where it was that he had been taken. This was a place where he and Nevoulas came countless times as children from here you could see the lands all around and they would often spy the traffic going from Athens to the Castle at Corinth. He fondly recalled these days, wondrous hours whiled away before the terrible black cloud of his armed days in service of initially the corrupt Roman corps and then the Seljuk horde. At the finest viewpoint he could see his brother Nevoulas ek Philadelphius awaiting back turned to him.

Maka, come your time for retribution has come. Nevoulas called out.

Steeling himself Makadonias shuffled forwards.

Halt. Nevoulas suddenly shouted still facing away from Makadonios. Guards release his foot chains.

This was duly done, if this had been a few months previous Makadonios would have instantly attempted escape. But now he realized there was nowhere to go, indeed nowhere else he wished to go, he was prepared to face his death well.

Striding forward he stopped some metres short of his brother.

Lord Megas Makadonias awkwardly said and went to one knee.

Makadonias, I must soon depart for the Capital. As you know the Emperor is dead and as such I must travel to pay my respects. In addition there will no doubt be some issues with the ascension, I will need to stay for whatever coronation follows. Before I go, this seems a fitting time for us to conclude this. I will offer you a choice.

I have made my choice my brother. Makadonios cut in. I will meet my death with honour whatever you wish to know of the Moors I will tell it.

Nevoulas smiled, resisting the urge to chuckle. Maka still believes us barbarians, even now after living among us for some months. I guess the chains and living amongst the enemy can do that. He walks forwards and unlocks the chains that bind his hands.

Maka, it is not necessary for you to die, while it is true that many Romans are dead at the hand of your sword everyone in this empire is given a second chance and so it shall be with you.

Look my brother at the lands around us, these belong to the House of Asteri, you may join in the harvest return to our cousins and old friends and help in a low level capacity.

Makadonios looked stunned. My brother I would love to...

However I do have another option, one that I dearly hope you will take up. I made a promise when I took up this position as Megas to the late emperor. This was not a promise that he compelled me to take or one that he even requested, still it is one that now upon his death more than ever I intend to keep.

With our most finest commanders chasing the Fatamids and the Seljuks into the east, the Moors continue to sit smugly far away in the west. I do not care of the near impossible logistics of the task I will bring the fight and fear to them on their lands, with the ultimate goal of their sultans head to return some day riding into the streets of Constantinople. I wish you Makadonios to come with me on this quest and serve as part of my bodyguard.

Makadonios looked thoughtful and met his brothers eye.

Brother I have seen much killing, more than my lifetimes fill....

Nevoulas cut in... Maka i stood here and watched you and father ride away and a returned here daily to watch for your triumphant return. Only you never came back... instead I travel continents to find you only to be enslaved and humiliated. By some miracle I managed to escape... I know you arranged my escape and that is why I have given you the chance to redeem yourself here. I will understand if you wish to stay here as a farmer, but I hope you use the oppurtunity I have given you to take the time in my absence to train and prepare for my no our quest.

Maka still stood stunned. This was his chance to finally redeem himself, he looked around Nevoulas' now familiar bodyguard nodded approvingly.

My brother I will do it, I shall help you lead a vicious attack on the Moors.

[AussieGiant]

Constantinople 1144

Apionnas walked slowly from the death bed of his late master. Basileus Aleksios Komnenus had passed away peacefully with no sign of foul play. That was the last dying duty and the wish of his Godfather. At least he could confirm that to his new master and remove any doubt about succession.

Taking a small package wrapped in thick paper covered in wax he withdrew to a small chamber where Ioannis Komnenus stood in solemn silence with his trusted man Pavlos Chrysovergos.

Apionnas walked directly toward the new Basileus, knelt, held up the package and paper laying on top of it and finally spoke;

"My Lord Basileus,

I, Apionnas Vringas, gave my eternal service and life to your father, his family and the position of Basileus of Byzantium. I wish to state at this time that your father has died with no sign of foul play or evil intent. I now pass this solemn oath onto to you and your family.

The papers here are a collection of all the work I have conducted on behalf of your father over the last decade. In addition, there is his "Will" in which he included me."

While Apionnas waits for the new Basileus to react he glances briefly towards Pavlos to gauge his reaction. He could never work the man out and his rise to prominence was now going to be accelerated dramatically. His opinion and thoughts would have to be factored into most things from now on.

Pavlos was staring rigidly ahead, arms folded behind his back he seemed almost unaware of the proceedings in front of him. As Apionnas speaks he glances at him briefly then at the papers that are handed over to Ioannis. His face is as always set in a permanent scowl.

Taking Apionnas' hand, the new Basileus gently pulls him to his feet.

"Senator Apionnas, you have been most devoted to my father, and there is no one more that I would trust with the affairs of our family and that of my personal safety. I accept your oath most willingly."

Gesturing to Pavlos to come closer, he turned again to Apionnas.

"This is Pavlos Chrysovergos, my trusty second and faithful leader of the Komnenodoukai. He has shown his loyalty many times over, and you can fully confide in him. He will also be part of the Privy Council."

"My Lord Dux, it is a great honour to meet you finally. The House of Komnenodoukai will be a great asset in the years to come. With it's strength the reign of our Baselius will be well supported amongst the nobility."

Extending his hand in a warriors grip, Apionnas's blue eyes assess the man that will influence much in the coming years.

The small burly men had stepped forward at the signal.

"Comes Apionnas Vringas! You are a loyal man, I respect you for that. The Basileus trusts you and so will I. The Komnenodoukai will continue to serve the line of Aleksios."

He grips the other mans arm firmly and watches him with a steady gaze.

The grip was vice like in its strength. Excellent thought Apionnas. The steel in this man would be needed in the years to come.

Breaking both hand shake and eye contact each man seemed satisfied with the other. Apionnas turns back to his new master, an intense look in his eyes.

"My Lord, I believe we need to move as quickly as possible to have your coronation completed by the Patriarch.

Then we must move to address oath swearing in the Magnaura as a formality. This should include all House Leaders AND unaligned senators. Once that is completed we need to deal with a quick solution with Constantinople's ownership and Vissa.

The unknown noble your father willed the Capital must be identified immediately and his loyalty confirmed via public oath. Once that is done then some "arrangements" will need to be agreed upon."

Nodding, Ioannis buckles on his sword.

"We must make haste to the Patriarch's office. The sooner all the arrangements are concluded the better."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Co-op with Igno and Ituralde

[GeneralHankerchief]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Co-op between myself, Ignoramus, and AussieGiant with a tip of the hat to OverKnight for the will.

Constantinople, 1146
The Hagia Sophia

The giant domed cathedral in the heart of Constantinople was packed to the brim with Senators, soldiers, foreign dignitaries, religious figures, and the like, a fitting way to mark the ascendancy of Ioannis Komnenos to the throne of the most powerful country in the world. Not only were representatives from every corner of the Empire there to witness the event, but those from the entire world - even the lands which were not under Byzantine control and were at war with the Greeks, for the Hagia Sophia had been built in another age, the time of Byzantine glory. Stone from Syria, Egypt, Thessaly, and even Rome made up the massive church. Even one of the ancient Seven Wonders would witness this moment, as columns from the long-gone Temple of Artemis were present. This was all to Ioannis's liking, of course. Let the entirety of the world and even time itself pause to pay tribute to him on his day.

Ioannis had spared no expense for this moment, having the finest musicians from the Empire converge and serenade the crowd, the finest chefs serve a massive meal after the coronation was completed, and the finest artists take their places throughout the cathedral to paint a variety of perspectives of the glorious event. A larger-than-life mosaic of the soon-to-be Basileus in regal attire, seated beside the Virgin Mary and the Christ Child adorned one of the far walls. The man himself, attired in full ceremonial robes on a golden throne in one of the Hagia's apses, sat, taking everything in.

To his immediate right, the Patriarch of Constantinople, Nicholas III, stood, slightly hunched over. The Patriarch had outlived his old rival Alexios, but not by much, if Ioannis was to take a guess. His long beard had turned white and he was turning pale, creating a stark contrast with his black robes. Out in front of him was the crowd: well-dressed, standing, and observant. The exact placement of persons in the crowd, like the rest of the ceremony, had been fastidiously planned. In the front rows were members of Ioannis's inner circle, his close relatives, and the dignitaries whose position demanded it. Farther back were the lesser Senators, most high-ranking members of the clergy, and less personal friends. Almost mingled in with the crowd were particular Senators that Ioannis had issue with and the lesser dignitaries. To Ioannis's immediate left stood his wife, who had already been crowned Empress, and the executor of Alexios's will, who had just finished speaking and was preparing to head back into the crowd. The previous ceremony was just a formality, of course, for Alexios's will had been made public some days before and Ioannis had already redistributed certain titles. The Varangian Guard, armor polished thrice over, had a commanding presence, flanking the main stage and its entrances. Finally, Ioannis mused, the endless preliminaries were over. Now came the moment why everyone was here.

The figure of Apionnas Vringas detached itself from the group of nobles surrounded by the imposing Varangians. Those standing in the front rows could see the heavy circlet of gold hanging from his neck signifying him as the new Lord High Chancellor of the Basileus. The ripple of murmuring voices passed this piece of information quickly to those standing at the back of the massive Cathedral, those who were not in the know about the information.

Apionnas bowed his head in acknowledgment after making eye contact with the Royal Princess Anna, her husband, and Methodios Tagaris, the new Caesar. Taking the dais summit in measured strides the hall became silent once he turned to address the gathered nobles.

"Lords of the Realm," he began,

"You are all gathered here today to witness the coronation of our new Basileus and the selection of the new heir apparent and Caesar. Before our beloved Patriarch Nicholas III does this however I wish to say a few words.

"Our new ruler, Ioannis Komnenos the Second, Basileus of the Roman Empire, Vice-Regent of God on Earth, and former Megas Logothetes is about to guide us with his firm hand for the next several decades. I am sure we all know him well.

"It would be inaccurate to describe Ioannis Komnenos as anything other than a polarising figure.

"While this has been true for the most part, it is also true that with great responsibility comes a great sense of duty and from this great men rise to the occasion.

"It is this very characteristic that will hold us in good stead for the future. Ioannis Komnenos has been born to rule and having known his father, the late Basileus Aleksios Komnenos, I know that this family has the capacity and strength to guide us into the next age of our Empire.

"While men may disagree it is the Basileus that rules us all. It is our duty and our honour to serve our Basileus until we die, for bickering and internal strife will do nothing but eat this Empire from within. Our enemies will have to do nothing but stand and watch us rot from our own venom and bile.

"So I ask you, the assembled noblemen of this glorious Empire, unite together, for with a new Basileus comes a new age and a renewed chance at glory.

"The Basileus is dead! Long live the Basileus!"

"The Basileus is dead! Long live the Basileus!" the crowd responded. As Apionnas stepped down, his heavy circlet of gold gleaming, a great wave of applause went up among the crowd, cheering Ioannis's ascendancy. Clearly pleased by this reaction, Ioannis grinned and shot a look at Apionnas, who returned it and resumed his place next to Pavlos Chrysovergos.

The cheering slowly died down as the crowd waited to see what would happen next. As they saw Patriarch Nicholas III slowly making his way to center stage, the noise built up into a crescendo, saluting the leader of Orthodoxy for the past decades. The Patriarch, whose appearances had always been infrequent, had shut himself away from the world even more over the past few years, only presiding at the Hagia on the most important of occasions. The cheering went on for some time, but the Patriarch soon raised his hands for silence and the crowd abided.

"Stability," he said in a thin, weak voice, and then cleared his throat.

"Stability," he said again, this time stronger, "stability is a blessing which we should all recognize and be thankful for."

The crowd was deathly quiet. The Patriarch's voice, while having been easier to hear after he cleared his throat, was still thin.

"Without stability, there is anarchy and chaos. Without stability, people fend for themselves, forgetting all that is good and light in the world. Aside from a few bastions of faith, most will feel the Lord's loving touch as foreign and flee for it, instead preparing to increase their temporal welfare in times of trouble at the cost of their eternal place in heaven.

"This example has been seen time and time again throughout history," said the Patriarch, pausing for a moment to gaze out into the nave of the monumental, glimmering structure that he had called his seat for longer than he cared to remember. "The greatest was at the close of Christ's time on earth. Until then, those who had followed him had been a mass of disorganized fellows who were easily conquered by their enemies. And then, as recorded in the Book of Matthew, Chapter 16, Jesus told Peter: 'Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church', and thus Peter became the first Pope and organized Christianity was born. Stability, in other words, was established, and as a result it allowed the fledgling religion to spread and become dominant throughout the world. Millions of souls have been saved because of stability.

"Those of you old enough to remember life before the previous Basileus may relate to what I am talking about," the Patriarch said. "Rulers changed with the seasons, and those that were not captured by the heathen enemy were assassinated, or deposed, or were simply too ineffective to be of note." The crowd, especially the aged members, pondered this.

"The Komnenian Dynasty has been established, though, and praise God, for it has been a stable one indeed," the Patriarch continued, his voice dropping a level. "Here, we have processes in which we can all agree upon. Here, we have checks and consensus. Here, we have the security to worship the One True Lord and not be executed for heresy by some foreign ruler. Here indeed, we have a Godly society, and we have the Komnenian Dynasty to thank for that. May its reign and its commitment to the Lord continue forevermore. Thank you." The Patriarch ambled back to Ioannis's right in a fit of coughing as the crowd cheered, picking up an ornately decorated box as the Basileus rose to address the crowd.

It was an awesome sight to behold. Ioannis, in his full glory, stood at the front of a huge and important crowd at the largest cathedral in the world, his arms outstretched, taking everything in. He let the applause and the "Long live the Basileus!" chants go on for a good while, savoring the moment. For Ioannis Komnenos, this was forever. After decades of waiting, fighting, taking abuse in the Magnaura and having to work in private, his moment had arrived. Although he had yet to be crowned, he was now Basileus, and he was very much enjoying the feeling of being so. Finally, though, he made the motion that he was about to speak, and the crowd slowly died down.

"My father was a noble man," he began. "He ended the inept leadership of the empire, and returned our failing state to her former glory.

"As the second Basileus in the Komnenoi dynasty, I will continue in the same mold as my father. I will expect absolute loyalty from my nobles, and I will give of myself absolute selfless devotion to the needs of the empire.

"For those of you even thinking of plotting a coup - forget it. You have seen the chaos before my father's reign, where the title of Basileus was changed at the whim of a select group of nobles.

"I will bring structural reorganistion to the empire, mainly in the area of defensive responsibilities.

"Finally, I will bring back the Roman empire to her former glory and the opulence of Rome will be ours once more!"

It was done. The crowd was back to cheering, Ioannis once again surveying them all. He thought he saw some not-too-happy faces among the "difficult" Senators farther back, but paid them no mind. They were nothing. Now there was one thing left to do.

The Patriarch was now back at center stage, carrying the ornately decorated box. It was open, and the Basileus, the open part of the box facing him, gazed. It was the crown, the crown in all of its shimmering glory. Already resized to fit him, it was just waiting to be placed on his head. For Ioannis Komnenos, it was finally here.

The Patriarch now had the crown out of the box, was now standing right beside the Basileus. Ioannis noticed a slightly pained look on his face, interpreting it as internal conflict. Nicholas had never been a fan and was now probably regretting the deal he had made with Alexios those years ago. Never mind him, he was an old man. If he tried anything, those Varangians would be all over him. Besides, who would dare challenge Ioannis's right to rule? Look at the ceremony, after all - the cheering crowd, the opulent cathedral. He had all the legitimacy in the world right here.

It must have been something else, though, as all proceeded to plan.

"By the power vested in me as... Patriarch of Constantinople..." Nicholas began, "I hereby crown you... Basileus... of the Roman..."

He slipped and fell, hitting the cold floor hard. Out of pure reflex, the Patriarch had managed to slip the crown over Ioannis's head before he went down, or maybe it was as he was going down; the timing was too close for anybody to determine. In any case, there was to be no argument about it: Nicholas III had gone through with his duty and fulfilled his end of the bargain forged with Alexios Komnenos many years ago.

Over the crowd's singular, horrible gasp, Ioannis leaned in close.

"...Empire..." the Patriarch managed to mumble, and died.

The reign of Ioannis Komnenos II, Basileus of the Roman Empire, had begun.

[OverKnight]

Constantinople, 1146

The Basileus was dying, Tiverios could see that as soon as he was summoned into the Imperial bedchamber. A wasting disease had taken Aleksios, and the once hale man was reduced to an invalid, yellow flesh stretched over frail bones. It was a disturbing sight, for Aleksios was the only ruler Tiverios had ever known. The Basileus had always been there, taking him into his service, promoting his career, and keeping a steady hand on the Throne. His death would bring forth a new, uncertain future, not only for Tiverios, but for the entire Empire.

Calming himself, the young Senator approarched the bed. Aleksios looked up, his gaze still searching and intelligent as ever despite the betrayal of his body. Even in illness, the Basileus was proped up by pillows and perusing papers.

"Ah, Tiverios," the Basileus said, his voice a whisper, "Please have a seat, there is much we have to discuss."

Bowing, Tiverios took a seat at the head of the bed. No doubt the Basileus had been seeing many people.

"You have served me well these past years. Yet I must ask a favor of you."

Tiverios nodded, "Anything your Majesty, I owe you my position, I am at your service."

It was true, Tiverios's father had died in one of the many campaigns to restore the Empire, though he did not remember him. A fatherless son from a minor family could not have expected much from life, but he had been raised in the capital by his mother. A pension had ensured a proper education and his mother had enough connections remaining at court to secure Tiverios a position. Somehow he had caught the eye of the Basileus, and for the past few years he had assumed much of the responsibility of administering Constantinople. He had even fought at the walls when the Basileus had destroyed the Moors.

Aleksios's reply broke his reverie, "Good, it is a delicate matter, when I am gone, I wish you to govern the capital."

Tiverios raised an eyebrow, "But your Majesty, the Caesar will expect to inherit Constantinople directly. He will be. . .disappointed, to put it mildly."

Aleksios waved his hand, "Yes, he will be, which is why it is a difficult thing to ask of you. You might suffer the ire of the new Basileus. Yet, I believe to be necessary."

Tiverios leaned in, "Why is that, my Lord?"

Aleksios sighed, "I have taken steps to ensure that Ioannis will have a smooth transition to the Throne. But once seated on it, I can guarantee nothing else. I will be dead, and I cannot control the future, much as I would like to. There still might be a civil war; By placing Constantinople outside the direct control of Ioannis, I hope to spare it from attack in such a case. Whatever else happens, I want the heart of the Empire preserved from internecine conflict."

The young Senator nodded, "Just so, but why me, your Majesty? There are others more experienced."

The gaze of the Basileus bored into him, "Why indeed? What do you think?"

Tiverios paused for a moment to think and then spoke, "I am familiar with the city. I have served you loyally. Most importantly, due to my youth and lack of status, I am unaligned with any of the factions at court. A more experienced or powerful man might already have divided loyalties, endangering the city in case of a civil war."

He left another possible reason unsaid.

Aleksios nodded, a trace of a smile on his face, "Very sharp of you, you'll need to be clever. By assigning you Constantinople I am giving you status and power. There is danger in that for you. You will have to tread carefully. I hope you have learned some of what I tried to teach you."

Tiverios grew thoughtful and drummed his fingers on the armrest of the chair.

"I have learned a great deal, even more so today. . .your Majesty."

The Basileus nodded and spoke weakly, "Good, you're dismissed. Send in Apionnas if you would."

Tiverios stood, bowed and made his way to the door where he paused for a moment. Glancing back at the bed, he almost asked another question of the Basileus, but instead he opened the door and strode out of the room.

[Ignoramus]

Nicaea, 1149

The new Basileus and his family were gathered together in the palace in Nicaea.

"Ioannis, it is time you accompanied me on campaign." began his father, "You must prove yourself to the nobles that you are worthy to succeed me on my death."

His son looked puzzled, "But Father, Comes Methodios is now Caesar. The nobility would never abandon him as long as his long list of victories over the infidel continues."

"Ah, but you forget that Methodios is older than I am." responded his father, "In normal circumstances, he will die before me and then the nobility would have no excuse but to accept you as my successor. Now go and get yourself ready; I will be riding to the capital this afternoon and I will be taking you with me."

As Ioannis left the room, the Basileus turned to his other son, Sophronios and handed him a book.

"I've brought you Caesar's De Bello Gallico. It will help you with your Latin, and at the same time sharpen your mind concerning military matters."

"Thank you very much, Father. I shall start reading it at once."

As his younger son left the room, the Basileus embraced his wife and walked towards the stables.

[Dafuge]

Port of Thessalonike, 1150

Ferro stood next to the great trading ships in the port of Thessalonike. It was raining and the sky was black with constant cracks of thunder. Men hurried around in the distance, picking up crates of various products from all over the world. In front of Ferro stood his only son, Efthymios, small and weedy, but loved all the same. Recently he had been promoted to the rank of Senator, a fine position for him and ensured a better life for his family. His shoulder length black hair was soaked and clung to his skin, drowning out his face.

‘Son, promise to visit me soon,’ Ferro shouted over the boom of thunder and waves.
‘Father, I will come as soon as my military and political matters have been sorted in Alexandria,’ Efthymios exclaimed sternly. Ferro sighed, once again his son was been his formal self, trying to hide his emotions. Bloody typical of him, at a time like this, thought Ferro.

‘Tell me why you are going to Alexandria instead of staying here in Thessalonike? This city is perfect for you, not to far away from Constantinople and very profitable. Why not stay here awhile until you are set up. Then move to some exotic land to the south.’

‘I’m going to Alexandria father and that’s final,’ proclaimed Efthymios stiffly. ‘You know as well as I do why I am going Northern Egypt father. I am to become a Legate of the House Ilios Korakas and soon I will have my own city, just like this one and your doubts will be cast from your mind. Also you know I how I feel about fighting fellow Christians, which I am sure to do in Greece, no matter how pompous they are. I wish to fight the Muslims and spread the true word.’

His father sighed again, once more wishing that he hadn’t given his son works of Caesar to study. From a small age Efthymios had become obsessed with military writings and his heroes consisted of Romans and Greeks such as Scipio and Alexander. He had a burning desire to become a mighty general like them, and fight for his country. The only problem was that his poor intellectual capacity for anything other than reading and logistics meant he never had the right flair or imagination to be educated in a military school. Thus he had a small knowledge of military matters but he had a lot to learn, including how to kill a man.

A shout came from across the dock for Efthymios; he quickly turned to his father and gripped him in a fierce hug.

‘Goodbye father, we will see each other soon,’ and before Ferro could reply Efthymios was off, onto the ship in a flash and sailing away to some distant land. Ferro ran his wrinkled hands through his white hair. He sighed for a final time a turned his back on the dock, slowly walking back up to his carriage to take him back to Thessalonike. As he reached there he climbed into the back and told the driver to take him home. He gave a curt reply and lashed his horses. At once they were off, at a slow trollop down the muddy road.

With the hour or so of uncomfortable bumping until they reached the main city, Ferro had time to reflect on his past. He had shoved it aside for the twenty years he spent raising his son but now with him gone, there was only himself to look after. 42 years had gone by since that dreadful event in Cairo, when Ferro had to flee the great city with the mighty general Vissarionas ek Lesvou.

Back then he was young, a meagre eighteen years old, but already a retainer of the promising Senator. He had escaped, barely, with his life. Once giving his report to the appropriate Senators and the like, he resigned from his job and moved into Greece with a small fortune. Quickly buying all the available land he was free to live his life how he wished. He fell in love with a woman and they lived happily for many years with only one burden. This been her trouble with producing offspring as many died during infancy or whilst still in her womb. She finally gave birth to Efthymios prematurely to Ferro’s great delight. But then to his horror worse news came, his wife, Helen, had died during labour. He had got his final wish, with great expense. Once Efthymios had lived past his first years Ferro began to indulge him, desperately trying to make God and Mary forgive him. He had lived the rest of his life happily.

Now his son, Efthymios, was returning to Egypt, where his father all those long years ago had seen such terrible things. Now he was going to return the favour, to beat back the Fatimid dogs to their last province, and their most holy one. Mecca. There he and other noble Senators of the Byzantine Empire would destroy any last resemblance that Egyptians had tried to rule what was rightfully Roman.

With that last thought Ferro succumbed to tiredness and fell into his bed, having already returned to his home. He was smiling while he slept; making an eerie site for the maids and servants, but all the same Ferro knew a storm was coming, and he was happy!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Written with permission of Ramses II

[Andres]

Italy - Bologna region - here and now.


Savvas set foot on Italian soil.

"Ah, Italy... A pity we are at war with the Venetians now."

He looked at his trusted bodyguard, Kristophoros.

"Did I ever tell you about the first time I was in Venice?"

Kristophoros smiled. He knew that this is how his old master usually starts one of his legendary stories.

"No mylord, I don't think you ever did."

"No? Well, well. I was still young at the time. I believe I was 29, right after I made it to the position of Strator of the Byzantine Empire. Allthough I was nominated to the position, it was still a year or so before the next session in the Magnaura, so I decided to make a few good investments with my first salary. A young woman with, eh, interesting qualities had told me that the best wine and women were to be found in Venice, so, that's where I went."

Savvas stared at the blue sky and smiled when the memories came back.

***

Venice, a long time ago.

Savvas woke up and realised that he was infected by the grandmother of all hangovers.

"You're not going to wake up soon, are you, darling? Want to go for another round?"

Savvas groaned. A few moments later, he felt a warm body lying up him. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking at the ugliest teeth he ever saw in his young life.

"Oh no...", he thought by himself, the hangover mercilessly starting to manifest itself. When he looked closer to the woman's face, he also noticed a few hairs on her upper lip.

"Please, woman, leave me be. Can't you see I'm dying?"

The woman giggled. "Maybe you're already dead, "old man", and you're in heaven now..." The woman bit in Savvas lip.

"Heaven? You're overestimating yourself woman," Savvas said. "Get off me! Out off my bed!"

"This is my bed, fool, and you better be sure to pay me what you owe me or I'll go and get Tanathos," the woman angrily said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, do as you please, as long as I can stay in this bed. And I don't owe you nothing. You should be more then happy that I even considered spending the night with you."

That said, Savvas welcomed back the uncounciousness.

"Wake up, scumbag!" a raw voice said, followed by a fist in Savvas' face.

"Will this torment never end?" Savvas complained.

"Pay the lady, rich boy!" said the 7 feet tall collossuss.

"Lady? You call *that* a Lady?"

A few minutes later, Savvas found himself flying naked through the air.

"This is no way to treat a Senator of the Byzantine Empire!" Savvas shouted, shaking his fist at the etablissement he just had to leave.

He ran back to his home. Unfortunately, Apostolos, one of the messenger boys of House Tagamata was standing in front of his Venetian estate (in fact, it was pretty luxuruous and allthough he couldn't afford it, some smooth talking and false promises of paying for it on a monthly basis, convinced the owner, at the moment drunk as hell due to the company of Savvas, to sell it to the newly appointed Roman Senator). Not willing to show himself in this embarassing condition, Savvas decided to take a detour. While he was trying to sneak his way into his own house, a patrol just passed by.

"Hold it right there! Who are you and why are you sneaking in the surroundings of the estate of the Byzantine Strator, Savvas ek Militou?"

"Ehm, but I am Savvas. Please officer, let's keep this our little secret shall we? Just let me in my house and I'll give you a reward."

The guards laughed hysterically. "You are Savvas? You expect us to believe that some crazy guy wandering around naked in the streets of Venice, in the late afternoon, is in fact an esteemed Strator of one of the noble houses of the Byzantine Empire?"

***

Italy - Bologna - here and now.

Kristiphoros bursted out in laughter. "That's hilarious, Lord!"

"Oh well, luckily that messenger boy recognised me and was able to identify me. Needless to say, I never went back to Venice. Contrary to what I had been told, the women were not extroardinarily better looking then in Constantinople and the wine was just terrible."

Savvas kept staring before him, a meloncholic expression starting to show on his face.

"Those were the days, dear friend, those were the days. And what do we have now? Civil war, hatred and greed. Everybody fears or hates our Emperor. Ioannis is not a bad man, you know. Blunt, direct and a bit arrogant, yes, but not a bad person. In all his wisdom, our Basileus Aleksios made one mistake: he neglected his son. He should have given his son as much love as he has given his daughter, Anna. Did you know she never truly loved her brother? Sad, really."

Savvas took the bottle of wine he nowadays always had available in a sack attached to his saddle and emptied it.

He wiped something out of his eyes.

"And then my lord and dear friend Aleksios ek Ikoniou breaking our bound of fealthy because of politics."

Savvas face turned harder, the grim expression ruining his handsome features.

"Friendships that lasted for decades are now less important then short term political gain."

Savvas was now visibly angry. He drank some more wine from a second bottle and slowly calmed down.

"And now I am here with an army to burn and pillage the Venetians. If I'm succesful in my efforts, I might even end up burning the house I once owned in Venice and have my men raping the daughters of that teethless prostitute."

Savvas sounded bitter when he continued.

"What has happened to us, Kristophoros? Where did it go wrong?"

Savvas turned to Kristophoros and gave him a scroll.

"Go back to Constantinople and take this with you, Kristophoros. It's my last will. When the time comes, I want you to read it loudly in the Magnaura."

Kristophoros stared at Savvas, seemingly not able to understand what he was being told.

"But, sir, I should be on your side now. If I'm on your side, you won't die in this war."

Savvas moved his horse closer to Kristophoros' and gave him a hug. Still holding his trusted friend in his arms, he said :

"And that, my friend, is exactly why I don't want you to be on my side in this war."

"But..."

Savvas turned his horse and galopped away, yelling at his men:

"Move it, you lazy sons of ladies of questionable morality. I can already smell the wine and that famous sauce of those Bolognese. Your general is hungry and thirsty, so hurry up!"

The men, still exhausted from the boat trip laughed and cheered.

Nobody noticed the lonely soldier who was going back to the ships...

[TheFlax]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Coop written with YLC

Apulia, 1182

A few hours later...

Water is splashed upon the face of the unconscious Markos ek Sinopis, and as he stirs, he is hauled to his feet by two of Helarionas's bodyguards. "Oh, good, he lives. Helarionas will be pleased." Searching for the voice, Markos recognizes the voice from earlier, Chara, dressed in fully battlegear and looking smugly at Markos. "For a mere bureaucrat, you put up quite a fight, I am impressed. Now, if you will follow me, Lord Anargiros wishes to speak with you."

Without a word, Markos shuffles clumsily behind the woman, his expensive armor now teared or nonexistent in many places and covered in blood. Each steps seems harder than the last, yet he manages to stay upright in a slightly hunched position, dragging an injured leg.

Chara seems either to not care or is ignorant of it, and continues on in silence as the group finally makes it back to Helarionas's camp. There, the survivors from both armies are tended to, with both food, rest, medical attention, or in many sad cases, last rites. Markos' wavering attention is brought back by a sharp clearing of the throat by Chara. "M'lord, the command tent - Lord Anagiros awaits you inside."

Inside, Helarionas is speaking to his second in command and Lady Aleksandra sips tea off to one side in a most comfortable chair. "M'lord, if we head south from here, we may gain sanctuary amongst the Sicilians, and it will lead the Basileus farther away from the Venetian front - forcing him to choose."

Helarionas shook his head. "No, no, we must head north! See what assistance we can provide. Also, even if the Venetians are our enemies, there is likely priest among them that would love to-"

Chara yet again clears her throat, an action she has seemingly been growing tired of as lately. When Helarionas and his second turn to look, a warm smile crosses Helarionas's face. "Markos! Good to see you live! I feared you had died! Sit, drink! Chara, find him a physician, he is limping terribly! How are you good man?"

"What is this?" Markos croaks quizzically, his pleasant features now marred by a gruesome laceration across the left jawline. His sole visible eye, also on the left side of his face seems devoid of life, staring into nothingness as the other one is hidden behind a large amount of swelling. His light brown hair now caked in blood and sticking in disarray to his sweaty forehead.

Aleksandra gags on her tea as she caught sight of Markos and spits it out in pain. "Helarionas! Can you not see the poor man is injured! Help him!" Helarionas frowned as Aleksandra got up and lead Markos to her seat. "You are Markos I take it? Is there anything you would wish for right now?" Helarionas smiled at Markos. "Indeed, Aleksandra is right, you deserve whatever rest you can manage - I will have my chef cook you something and you may relax while we discuss your fate. It is poor of me not to treat my guests better."

The injured man sits down, still bewildered but too much in shock to show such emotions. Again, his voice, serious as always, comes out as a rasp. "Are you toying with me Helarionas? You have defeated me, there is nothing more to say save for me to ask you to end my life swiftly."

It is Helarionas' turn to look utterly bewildered. "Markos, what are you talking about, why on earth would I end your life? What point is there to that? I have no quarrel with you. No, I will have no more talk of killing, do not utter a word about it. Eat some food, drink some tea, and rest."

The loser takes a small sip from an offered goblet, his eye perpetually blank. "It's what I deserve is it not? I have brought so many to die today, should I not join them? What is to happen to me if you keep me alive? What purpose will THAT serve." He nearly spits the end of the sentence in disdain.

Helarionas and Aleksandra exchange glances with each other before Helarionas speaks tentatively. "Markos...you do not deserve death for this...if anything, you deserve rewarded. You did only what you saw was the best course of action in the face of a very stubborn man, and you loyal kept your oath to the Empire, and never wavered in your duty, and neither did your own men. You must be commended for your loyalty, honesty, steadfastness and determination, not executed for it."

"And I ask only that you that you return to the Empire and let those in it know of me and Aleksandra, and what my fiancee and I face, what we will do, for our love for each other."

Helarionas walks over and grabs a small stack of papers and hands them to Markos. "Here, these papers will get that fool of a captain on board those ships to transport you. The dead from this battle will go with you, and my army will escort you safely to them. There is enough salt in the ships cargo hold to preserve the bodies so that they make it. You can then set sail back to the Imperium with the rest of your surviving bodyguard, and tell our tale."

Markos grasps the bundle with a bloody hand, while taking another sip. "Perhaps you are the better man after all, Helarionas." While still gloomy, he regains some composure. "Very well, I will do what you ask. I pray that we never meet again, for that would mostly certain mean you have failed." With a wince, the injured man rises and then bows as best he can to the princess, his marred features contorting in a grimace of pain. "My lady." Without another word, Markos drags himself out of the tent and into the hands of the waiting physicians.

[Ignoramus]

Epirus, 1185 AD

"Mein lord Basileus, you must not embark on these long expeditions." scolded his close friend and companion, Philipp Hümmel, as the Basileus wearily removed his armour.

Turning to his Germanic companion, Ioannis could not but suppress a smile.

"You speak of resting, yet you yourself are but 10 years younger than I, and have journeyed across Mediterranean. No, I am not too old for campaign, though I do own that I detest lingering on those foul ships where scurvy lays low many a good man."

"At least you might consider residing at Constantinople, in the luxury and comfort of the Imperial Palace, than worry about a backwater province such as Epirus." shot back Hümmel.

"My dear German friend," responded Ioannis, "as you yourself know, one must do these things to secure the family's power. Your nephew - Wolfgang isn't it? - I hear has been forced to take the cross for trying to increase your family's holdings in Lorraine. I am forced to make these journeys in order to secure the power of the Basileus and my family. Whether in the end they kill me through scurvy, or an imperial cold, it is my duty."

[flyd]

Crete, 1185

Like every morning, Isaakios the Lazy was up early and walked with his wife along one of the beaches on Crete. He had enjoyed a peaceful existence since 1161, when he was left without a way to get his army off the island, and refused to leave without it. There was little to do, and he rather enjoyed it; he had not actually requested ships from any of the Megas Logothetes. The convoluted politics of the Empire made their convolutions without him, and he liked it that way. He walked along the beach without a care in the world. Cool wind, the sound of waves washing the beach, sparkling sea at sunrise, beautiful Chryse. He was, indeed, happy.

An eagle lofted into the air from a nearby cliff and caught Isaakios' attention. Eagles fascinated him, and he followed their flight whenever he saw them; they were important, they were the symbols of the Komneni family and the Empire as a whole. The eagle flew directly overhead and circled around Isaakios' position. Once, twice, three times. Three times; like the trinity. Isaakios watched intently as the eagle flew out to sea a short distance and swooped down to catch a fish. However, it misjudged its dive and hit the water at high speed. It came back to the surface, but it was wet and unable to take off. Isaakios watched it struggle for perhaps a quarter of an hour, and then it disappeared below the surface.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Isaakios murmured a lengthy, deep, and thoughtful murmur. "An inauspicious sign. Dark days are ahead. Dark, dark days."

Later that morning, Isaakios drafted a letter to the Megas Logothetes, immediately requesting a fleet to take his army from the island.

[Ituralde]

Nikitas sat in the privacy of his study within the large complex that made up the City Hall of Sinop. Sure he had the big audience chamber, but he preferred the relative comforts offered by his smaller study. It was his first visit to Sinop and much of the past few days had been spent dealing with the local magistrates. His uncle, yes he even thought of him as his uncle now, Pavlos had never been long in Sinop either, so the magistrates were rather used to governing themselves and while the greeting had been formal it was clear that they hadn't been eager to meet him. Well he wouldn't stay long.

He had tried to get a little grasp of the affairs, just out of general curiosity. It always paid off in the end to have knowledge about what was going on, but he had realized fast that the duties of a governor were mostly dull. No, the matters that interested him now were two reports in front of him. One was a detailed written account of a story that was on everyone's tongue, while the latter came directly from Constantinople. With a sigh he picked up the first again.

As he began reading he grimaced a little. There was little point in reading the whole thing as he knew the words anyway, but he made himself go on. It told of an encounter West of the City itself. Bandits had started plundering the lucrative land route between the Bosporus and Sinop and had grown in numbers over time. Until, one day, a Senator from Constantinople rode up to them and challenged their leader to step forward. As the leader refused passage and asked for a toll, the Senator pulled out his sword and beheaded the man cleanly. Shocked at the sight the bandits dispersed and were never seen again. That Senator was supposed to be Nikitas Moschos.

Sometimes Nikitas wished it had happened that way. He could only remember all too clearly the grisly sights of that day. Fighting in an actual battle had shown to be much less fun than what he had heard before. The fighting had been fierce and he had lost half of his men. All young fools that had followed him because they knew his uncle or had sensed opportunity. He had tried putting a stop to the story that praised his deeds, but now they just added his modesty along to his bravery, it was futile.

Groaning he pushed away the report and instead fingered the second parchment. Now this one was much more interesting. It informed him that for his recent bravery and as a token for the service of Pavlos Chrysovergos he was to be elevated into the Imperial family. The thing made him a grandchild of Basileus Ioannis himself of all things. Nikitas could only shake his head. It truly was hard to believe. He had not only fooled the men in this backwater town, it seems he had even fooled the Roman Empire itself. Shoving the papers away he gave a quick prayer of thanks to the skill of the man that had forged him the papers necessary to make him the nephew of Pavlos Chrysovergos. Who knows, maybe his uncle would even be proud of him one day.

[ULC]

1185, Jerusalem

Upon the path to Jerusalem, a man on foot lead a lovely woman on horseback towards the gleaming city. The man was unassuming, covered in a drab dusty brown cloak with a hood, one would easily take him for a mere peasant. The woman was just as clothed, a dreamy and hopeful look to her, her eyes and hair gleaming in the fading sunlight. It was she who spoke first.

"Helarionas...I know this is asking much of you...if you do not wish t-" The man leading the horse simply waved her off. "Do not worry yourself dearest, this is something I must do. All roads would have lead here, no matter the outcome."

The woman sighed and looked at Helarionas with warm but sad eyes. "You do not need to seek his approval...is mine not enough?" Helarionas did not reply, causing the woman to speak again. "Helarionas, please answer me I ne-" Helarionas shook his head. "Hush now love, we are upon the gates."

From above the gatehouse, passed the crenelations, the guard called out. "Who goes there!" Pulling back his hood, Helarionas stood proudly and with unwavering eyes looked at the guardsman. "I am Helarionas Anargiros, former Comes of Durazzo, come to speak with your Lord, Caesar Methodios, and submit myself to his judgment. Let him know that I await him, along with his daughter, outside the gates of the city."

"Stay where you are" the guard called from the battlements, then disappeared from view.

The man and woman stood beneath the walls, nervously waiting under the gaze of the men-at-arms whom they could glimpse upon the walls. Long minutes passed.

Suddenly, a loud clank resounded. The noise of a heavy chain rattling was heard and the gates began to open.

Once fully opened, a figure stepped out of the shadow into the light of the desert.

Though sporting a mane of white hair, there was no doubt that the man was a warrior, and a fearsome one at that, despite his age.

His face was a study in hardly repressed fury.

"Anargiros, I did not believe that such a foul individual would find courage enough to come and defy me beneath my own walls. And you have come alone ? Where is your army ?"

Stepping one step closer, Methodios seemed to notice the figure on the horse for the first time. Disbelief contorted his features.

"Aleksandra ?"

Aleksandra smiled warmly at her father, but there is slight reservation. "Hello father...it is good to see you after so long." Her eyes seem to carry worry as they steal a glance to Helarionas, who quickly bows before Methodios. "It is an honor to meet you Caesar Methodios. I have come to you, because of my own good conscience, and the words of your daughter. I have indeed come alone, with no army, no guard, and no weapons, not to defy you, but to be judged before you."

Aleksandra bites her lip at Helarionas's last words, hoping they would not be. She looks at her father pleadingly. "It is truth father, he holds no surprises - if anyone is armed, it is me, with his own sword."

"Aleksia, is that truly you ?" Methodios seemed on the verge of tears by setting eyes on his daughter. Running to the horse, he lifted his arms to her. Without a second thought, she took his hands, allowing him to take her down from the horse and embrace her. "I thought I would never see you again. Have I been so uncaring and unloving as a father that you had to run away ?"

As Helarionas waited patiently off to the side, Aleksandra hugged her father tightly, a single tear escaping. "Forgive an impatient little girl father. You have always loved us, and you have always treated my sisters and me well...but...what happened to poor Hypatia filled me with fear." Pulling back, Alekandra looks down at the ground, her voice filled with hesitance. "And I feared you would reject the man I love because of...because of actions that were not his own..." Aleksandra's gaze drifts up to Helarionas's, who bowed kindly in the two's direction.

A closer look of Helarionas revealed dark hair, grey eyes, pale skin and a distinctive, smug look to him, a look that belonged to a man long banished from the Empire.

Looking more closely to the man that had conquered the heart of his daughter and defied him for it, Methodios was reminded of a man he once knew... But that man had been banished, and would have been older than the man standing before him.

"Lord Anargiros, it seems we got started on the wrong foot... You seem to have conquered my daughter's heart... As you surely know from my actions in the past, the welfare and happiness of my children are of utmost importance to me, enough so that I now stand here defying an Empire for their sake... I will not judge you, nor condemn you... But be warned : should you deceive the faith and trust my daughter has put in you, there'll be nowhere to run and nowhere to hide for you..."

Helarionas seems utterly taken aback, and stunned silence follows as he tries to take in what Methodios has said. His eyes gaze into the distance and his lips move wordlessly. When he finally speaks it is a stutter. "Ex, excuse me Lord Ta, Tagaris? Forgive me..I, I, expected...more...I was expecting...something, but not this..."

Aleksandra looks over at Helarionas with a smug grin. "Look father, you've managed to turn my eloquent and brave fiancee into a mere stuttering fool." She quickly broke into laughter as Helarionas blushed deeply, who's eyes darted to the ground in shame. Aleksandra calmed herself as she walked over to Helarionas and gently lifted Helarionas's eyes level to hers. "It is time you told him, he should know, since he will be your father in law after all. You have nothing to hide from him, my dear Sergios."

The man who had been known as Helarionas Anargiros to the entire Imperium took a step back and turned to look at Methodios. "I am Sergios Echter ek Kallipoleos. You knew my father once - he is, was, Aleksander Echter ek Kallipoleos."