《In Spite of it All》


 Chapter 1: A Broken Empire

    "Cast into the soil your feet, for today we will die, and return to the earth as naught but bones and food, but where we die we shall drag a thousand men down to the depths for every one of us that dies, for we are of theAndhvarids, the great rulers of theKhosroshar, the children ofUrava, the protector of theKhosro, the Light of civilization that fights those of darkness who oppose it, and we will not go silently into the deep rock." Arsaces flipped over the page of the manuscript, its ancient parchment smelling of grass and vanilla. It seemed that various pages had been lost. A shame.Having scoured through the libraries for weeks, the young prince had been trying to complete his thesis onTiridatesIII, and it seemed that many more materials were only half-done or censored by over-enthusiastic priests and bureaucrats.


    Sighing, he closed the book, placing it on his lap as he stretched his legs and arms out. He was anAndhvaridhimself, like his entire family was, and he smiled as he imagined himself living up to the hallowed name, leading great armies to conquer new lands and rescue fair maidens.


    Well. That would never happen. Things were different now though.Tiridates'' time had been one of civil strife, when the empire had threatened to fragment. But here, the empire had already fragmented. Expelled from their ancient capital, theAndhvaridShahanshahshad been replaced by a foreign king under the banner of theYoghurkOlmezids, and the two dynasties had been caught in a deadlock for the past 40 years.


    An hour had passed since he had been called here, and he had been waiting here patiently, but he felt bored now, having completed his research. He looked up towards the door, the two mute slave-guards standing besides it.


    They were dressed in heavily decorated mail, the motifs of elephants garnishing their steelchestplate. Heavy, steel masks of silent eyes and pursed lips had been attached to their ceremonial helms, giving them an unnatural, almost haunting look. Arsaces stood up, bored, and started looking into one of the mask''s eyes. Nothing of note. Their wearers didn''t twitch. it was now that the prince noticed that, even discounting their elevated sabatons, he was easily taller than them, and larger to boot.


    "Take your mask off." Arsaces commanded, and the mask came off, revealing a young boy no older than 20. His features were serious and dour, devoid of any emotion, almost like their masks. The only thing he was missing was that beard. He didn''t have one either, come to think of it. Ghostly slaves, trained since birth to be as still as statues.


    The young prince heard a door open, and a large, bearded man stomped out. He was tall, though still shorter than Arsaces, and much more muscular and bear-like. His face was heavily scarred with one eye missing under a black eyepatch, though a majority of those were covered up by his bushy black beard. His hair, curly and long, was tied up into a bundle at the bottom, and he wore a cap, signifying that he was theShahzade, the crown prince and designated heir to theAndhvaridEmpire.


    Arsaces recognized him as his father, and stepped back a step to avoid being in his way. He stomped off into the distance, muttering to himself about something, frustrated and angry.


    His son quickly skirted out of the way to his side, too afraid to ask what had happened. Ever since his mother had died, the relationship between father and son had crumbled, and neither had tried to bridge it. Arsaces mostly out of fear for his rough and capricious father, and Darius for reasons unknown to anyone but himself.


    "Ashk. Come in." A dignified, royal and tired voice called out. Arsaces turned towards the voice, recognizing it as his grandmother, MyronKarenid. She was a small, motherly woman, the wife ofShahanshahKhosrowAndhvarid, her husband and his grandfather.


    Prone to ancient legends, she had been his caretaker in youth, when he lived in the silver dome which housed Myron her staff, as his mother had been too ill and busy to do it. She was a strict old woman, and was as prone to using bamboo canes as she was to cooking exorbitant amounts of food. Arsaces bowed slightly.


    "Yes, your grand kindness.", he uttered with trained discipline. Protocol was important, even within family,and he followed his grandmother intothe bedroom of his old and infirm grandfather, and the old Myron motioned Arsaces forward, before closing the door behind him. "What happened between father and grandfather? Father looked unhappy."


    "Its his excellency and his majesty,Ashk. Remember that." Myron reminded him with some frustration, and Arsaces suppressed a sigh. Protocol was important, but that didn''t mean he was good at it. All attempts at trying to make him remember the idiotic court rituals had failed, and at most he could only playact them like a chimpanzee as a human. It was tiring, burdensome, and most of all, irrational, or so the young princeling felt. The old lady spoke on, looking towards the door, obviously thinking about her only surviving child.


    "It''s nothing, really. Just a little argument. His majesty is in that room,Ashk. Please do be careful, he is very ill." With that, the old matriarch left the room, off to chase her son, leaving Arsaces to himself.Myron had always been an overbearing woman under all that maternal instinct. Maybe that was why the emperor disliked her so. They did not have the most welcoming of relationships.


    Many times, Arsaces had found himself interrupted by his grandparents arguing or facing off, and he couldn''t help but wonder why they stayed together. It made no sense to him. Was it politics, or was it simply because they had no one else anymore?


    TheShahanshah''sbedroom was small, but grandly decorated. A largebalconeywas the centerpiece allowing Arsaces to see out over the city ofXanthii, and a large painting of his divine greatness, LordUrava, hanged from a wall. The chairs and tables had been forged from highly valued materials, and dozens, if not hundreds, of books lay perfectly arranged intheiressy, stacked formations, indecipherable to none but the King of Kings himself. Khosrow, sixth of his name, and theShahanshahof theKhosroshar, Dominus of the Realm of theAndhvarids, turned to face his young grandson.


    The two couldn''t be more different in appearance. Whereas Arsaces was tall and wide, his grandfather was hunchbacked and frail. Whereas the grandson had the eyes of a lion, filled with boundless energy and focused ambition, Khosrow''s was full to the brim of past regrets and sorrows.


    He smiled politely at his only grandson, and in a weak voice, called him forward.To add to his withered looks, the elderly Khosrow, who stood at a venerable 76 years old, had a pale, ill-looking yellowish skin, and was rapidly coughing into a bowl, as the court physician, aNikeloslave by the name ofOribasius, stood by mixing some herbs and medicines together. The old king had consumption, the illness of the lungs.Oribasiushad predicted that the old man would die by the end of the year, if lucky. Seeing him now, Arsaces found that hard to believe.


    He looked so ill, so frail. Arsaces felt something well up inside himself, and suppressed it. He didn''t know what it was, and he didn''t want to find out.


    "Come here, Arsaces. Sit by me, here. I want to talk to you." Arsaces nodded, but first, moved to a nearby table, taking the bejeweled jug of water and filling a similarly bejeweled cup. He wondered how many rubies and sapphires were adorned on them by poor miners as he cured his parched throat.


    "Do you desire wine or water, grandfather?" Grandfather. Yes. Khosrow had asked his young grandson to be informal around him. He was an old man, tired of protocol, and was eager for the only family member who which he was on friendly terms with to be honest with him.


    The words seemed unfamiliar to the young prince. Grandfather.


    "Ah. Water. And make sure to use a different cup Arsaces. I don''t want your taint on it." The old man cracked a laugh at his own joke, and Arsaces responded with a laughter of his own.


    TheShahanshahwas infamous for his bad jokes and worse timing, something which Arsaces himself had, unfortunately, inherited. People still laughed at the jokes though, but even the obtuse two men knew they were faking it. Sycophants andyesmenplagued the courts no matter where they went. Refraining from cracking these jokes seemed like an impossibility though, for both the older and younger man, and in recent times, following Khosrow''sdeterioratingcondition from illness and old age, he had grown more and more eccentric, his bad jokes becoming even more tasteless then they once had been. This was a new low for him. "Taint". He had said. He was lucky the young and immature Arsaces found it genuinely funny. The two men shared many things in common, including their horrid sense ofhumour. This had led to them becoming close friends.


    The young prince picked up a different cup and poured out a cup for his grandfather, then moved to sit by his side, passing the bejeweled cup to the old man. As he did so, the old king examined the cup carefully, turning it from side to side, checking the bottom, then the top. "I wonder how old this is." He sighed out, and placed it to his side. "Well. Arsaces. How have you been recently? Is the schooling well? How''s the reformed education system I''ve implanted? Is it good? What are your friends saying?"You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "The schooling has been well, grandfather, though many of the nobles oppose it. It seems that it''s too close to the system that has been in place in theTianxiaEmpire. They think you''re copying them too much, and that you''re losing touch with your roots, though even they have to admit that it has its benefits, they don''t think its befitting a noble. Not like I care. The larger emphasis on scholarly works is great." Arsaces replied, and breaking with his formality, stood up, struck a pose, one hand to his chest and the other raised in the sky, fingers reaching towards the stars. "By the shroud of death am I taken, and by the shroud of history am I forgotten."


    "KavadhYummarid? That posturing sophist?Hahahahah! Oh, you''re in for a ride, my boy. I met him once, back when I was in the society of bronze. He didn''t impress me then, and he still doesn''t impress me, that damn bootlicker." Khosrow laughed out, his every word stinging of spite. Both Khosrow and Arsaces were scholars, and the old king had been his tutor throughout his youth, taking personal guardianship of the young boy and introducing him to the world of books. The young Arsaces, who had since a young age been captured by history and legacy, took to it like a fish took to water, and had developed into a skilled scholar, on the way to being one of the best out there.


    "And yet, he is a skilled orator, is he not grandfather? He is one of the world''s foremost legal experts, and his orating will be remembered in the books for years to come. The lecturer talked about your competition with him once, when you two fought for 3 years over vultures, on whether they were born from eggs or made of the essence of the wind. His logic was impenetrable, though you did an extremely good job yourself." Arsaces countered.


    "True. As a legal expert and orator,hesamongst the legendary greats such as CyrusSpitamaand Yusuf. But as a truth-seeker? Hah. Lies upon lies. He depends entirely on intellectual tradition and emotional biases to carry him to victory. He has no critical thinking. Just because no one has seen a vulture give birth doesn''t mean they''re born of essence of the wind. Just because CyrusSpitamasaid it a thousand years ago doesn''t mean it¡¯s true." Khosrow paused for a moment, and then looked about him, slightly blurred. "Uh. What was I talking about? Ah. It doesn''t matter. What are you doing now then? I heard you were working on a thesis onTiridatesIII. You were born on the same day he was, if I remember?"


    "Yes, grandfather. He amazes me, to be honest. I believe that he is the pinnacle that all men should reach for... well. Excluding his hatred of the Literati, that is. Investigation of the natural world is essential to us." Arsaces grabbed his cup of wine, finishing it in one swell sweep.


    "Recently, I''ve been attempting to complete a thesis onTiridatesIII. The research materials that you have offered me have been of much help, and my progress has increased by leaps and bounds. It¡¯s a shame that many of the materials are only half completed or half-destroyed... If only I could be inSociokak. 3000 years of history. God. It would be a wonder to be there, wouldn''t it." Arsaces spoke out, his childish glee showing.


    "I''ve been there once. It was a difficult journey, and I almost lost a hand when I tried to steal some of the books. Hahaha. It was hard to get in though. TheHerbadsandMobadswere on their toes and they had presumed that I was an agent sent by my brothers to spy on them. Well, I suppose when your father retakes the world, you will be free to visit there and take as many books as you desire. Discounting that, there is still a wealth of books in Pars." Khosrow reminisced, seemingly talking at Arsaces, not to him.


    "Have you forgotten, grandfather? The library in Pars was burnt down years ago back during the siege. What we have now are it''s remnants." Arsaces replied, a hint of confusion in his voice. Grandfather''s memory tended to be sharp, his wit even sharper. To see him forget something so important... well, Arsaces believed that he was truly at deaths door now.It was now that the young man took his time to examine his grandfather.


    His skin was greying, his eyes shallow, and he seemed smaller than ever. Was his spirit leaving his body already? Arsaces wondered. The old man had lived a long life, but to say it was fulfilled... well. That was to be an overstatement. Khosrow had tasted defeat and failure for his entire life, and what small successes he had were rewarded with even larger failures.


    Despite it all, he had endured.


    And here he was, dying.


    "Ah. Yes. Burnt down... Well, Arsaces. May I ask you of something?"


    Arsaces tilted his head in surprise. Khosrow didn''t tend to ask for things. "What is it, grandfather."


    "Well. You know, me and your father have not had the best of relations. I''m close to death now, and I want to make sure that I can leave this earth happily, so just sit here and listen to this old man''s ramblings." He seemed as if he was reflecting on something, something which he had lost a long time ago, that was in the realm between material and immaterial, untouchable by all except he who held onto it.


    "You''ve seen the damage we''ve done. I wished to make amends, but it seems that the gap is too deep. I will die soon and I wish to go on into the great rock without this one major regret, but if that is not possible, then my wish turns towards you." Khosrow had relented, and was now looking into his golden cup.


    He looked towards his grandson, the usual sadness in his eyes replaced by something different, a bitter regret.


    "A few moments ago, me and your father had an argument over the usual. Military. You know how your father is. He wants to reconquer our lost lands, and I don¡¯t. I know you have those ambitions too." Arsaces nodded


    Yes. It was true that he desired to retake the lands, but he had never been such an active participant in the court politics of pushing and shoving their own ideas for the betterment of the state.


    "If I die. When I die. Your father will march on theKhosrosharand intend to reclaim the empire. I mean. Everyone knows that" He completed, giving a bitter laugh.


    Continuing on, he muttered out bitterly. "He will marshal all our forces, but I fear that it won''t be enough. Alp Arslan, that damned monster, will destroy him, and you too. I don''t know if this will come through, but I have called a close ally here. This has been planned for a few months, and my friend will arrive soon. I''m sure you''ve heard of him, theTaishangHuangdi XiYinghou."


    Arsaces nodded, slightly shocked.Yinghouwas, had been, the emperor of theJinguo, a large and fearsome continent spanning empire that had united 150 years ago, after centuries of civil war, if civil war could go on for hundreds of years. They were a fearsome people, and Arsaces had heard many tales of the Celestial Emperor. He had destroyed 50 tribes and killed all their children. He had exterminated the nobles when they rebelled in a great rebellion, years ago, and he and Khosrow had worked together to subjugate and build a new road connecting their two empires, a symbol of their friendship that they had brought about from mutual gifts.


    Yinghouwas apparently now a retired man, and little information was known about him, much of the court records having been burnt under his order. He was enigmatic, and possibly the most feared man on the other side of the Hamadan mountain range. Khosrow andYinghouhad apparently not been in contact for years, longer than Arsaces himself had been alive, but if it was true thatYinghouwas coming then that would be a great help for Darius'' military campaign.


    "That¡¯s great but shouldn''t there be a price or something?" Arsaces asked, both happy to have such a formidable ally, yet cautious, having sensed that Khosrow wasn''t finished.


    "Well. Yeah.Hessaid that the price will be a marriage for his ward, XiJiangshi." Khosrow completed, scratching the back of his head.


    "Ohh. That¡¯s quite bad,isntit?" Arsaces said, turning away, his fingers under his chin. He had a sister,Azarmidokht, and selling her off would be a safe bet to ensure an alliance but nonetheless, he was still selling off his own granddaughter. That was normal sure but it wasn''t like anyone really liked it. It was just necessary. They were all tools after all.


    "Well.Heresthe thing.Jiangshiis a girl and..."


    "Then father then?" Arsaces asked, his interest further piqued. "But.Hesstill mourning mother. Its only been 2 years since... oh."


    Arsaces eyes widened, and he gave a desperate, haunted smile. He pointed his finger towards himself, his hands trembling.


    "You should see your own face, Arsaces" The old man gave a hoarse laugh, but quickly turned back into his prior state.


    "Yes. It is true. You will be the one getting married. I told your father about that earlier and it seems that I''ve only made him angrier. He says that I''m sacrificing family members to foreigners who he doesn''t even want. He wants to reconquer theKhosrosharwith only the forces we have at hand and his own charisma. But he just doesn''t understand that damned empire like I do." Khosrow lamented, his voice becoming more frustrated as he carried on, the voice of a man who was bitter and angry at life coming through his weak and frail veneer. He begun to cough once again.


    Arsaces rushed towards him, patting his back as he coughed violently into his cup of water, a mixture of unhealthy-looking blood and phlegm coming out of his coughing mouth. When it was over, he looked at the cup, and placed it next to his chair. "Get me a new cup will you. I need some water.."


    As Arsaces ran off to do his task, his old grandfather continued now, obviously intent on completing his lamentations before he could cough again. "


    Your father is a damned fool. Sometimes I wonder if he''s even my son. He''s more like Yazdegerd then anything, that damned hero. Looks like him too. Have I ever told you about Yazdegerd? That idiot ran around, using his wits and his charm to gain the power of the people and look what happened. He died. Your father obviously hasn''t learnt anything at all. History repeats itself over and over and over again. You, me, Darius..."


    He stopped to take a deep drink of water from the cup that Arsaces passed over, looking at his grandson as the young prince took a seat. "I must ask for your forgiveness, Arsaces. I''m sorry that I must steal your freedom simply to placate that damned fool of a son of mine, and this accursed empire. I never wanted to place this fate on you two, but I can''t just abandon everything. I''m sorry."


    "I understand grandfather. In the end, everyone has his own fate, and I suppose that this was mine. I trust your friends judgement that his ward isn''t an absolute monster." Arsaces finally said, giving a winning laugh yet at the same time still slightly shocked at this revelation.


    "I wish I trusted him as much as you did." Khosrow said enigmatically, his eyes watching the city skyline.


    "Hey... Arsaces. Go get that. A messenger falcon is here." He muttered out, and soon enough, one lands on the balcony, an unusual one.


    It wore a silver headpiece, and it''s claws and beak seemed to be plated with steel, or something similar to it. It wasn''t anything the young prince recognized. As Khosrow attempted to crawl out of his bed to pick it, Arsaces placed his hand on his grandfather''s shoulder, shaking his head.Instead, he moved over and let the bird saunter arrogantly over onto to his thick glove.


    Picking it up, he carefully unwrapped the message tied to it''s leg. As he moved over to a falcon perch to allow the falcon a resting place, he realized that it had been blinded. Where its eyes would be, there were only two chiseled rubies.


    He noticed other differences as well. It had been decorated in the exorbitant styles of theJinguo, the silver people from the north.As he unfolded the letter, he passed it to his grandfather, who read it silently for a moment, then, in a sudden rush of excitement and, or, fury, jumped into a flurry of action.


    "Get me a horse. Call the men, and get everything ready. That bastard''s come early again. If he thinks this is fucking funny then I''ll show him funny. Call your father, grandmother, and sister too. I need everyone to get ready for that damned bastard by the end of the week. No. 5 days." Arsaces moved back in shock, unsure of what to do, then rushed over to help his grandfather up as he tried to crawl out of his bed. Who was this ''bastard'' anyways.


    Was itYinghou? But if so why call him a bastard?


    Arsaces pondered asking his grandfather what the hurry was, but upon seeing his furious face, he decided not to. The oldShahanshahwas even fiercer than grandmother could be. He didn''t want to be the one to fire the powder keg as he had done so many times. Though, the young man couldn''t help but wonder. Who could drive the ill and frail Khosrow, who was so reluctant to even get a cup of water for himself, into such a frenzy?


    -=0=-

 Chapter 2: A solemn bride

    Jiangshi woke up with a shock at the sound of a rough sneeze, and started darting left and right to see what happened, particularly angry that she had been awoken from her sweet dreams. But, unfortunately, the only other occupant of the room they were in was a particularly old man, who was at this moment preparing to sneeze one more time. As he let our another loud sneeze, Jiangshi felt her eye twitch. As much as she wished, the young lady would not, could not, shush the man and command him to stay quiet, for he was the only person that stood above the social hierachy compared to her within a thousand miles, her great-grandfather and official guardian, Xi Yinghou, the Taishang Huangdi of the Tianxia Jinguo, the retired emperor of the "All Under Heaven Silver Empire". Well. Not like it mattered to him. Yinghou had always humble-bragged that even if he had not been the emperor that he would still command the respect and charisma that he did nowadays, due to his own discipline and merits. It was natural, he said, that someone as outstanding as him would reach the heights that he had. Funny. Very funny. The capricious, childish, and eccentric old man would probably have been executed or assassinated by the marquis or a duke or whatever powerful courtier was in the imperial palace, even if he had the favour of the emperor.


    "Your eyes tell me a thousand words, my young student. You need to train harder to conceal your emotions." The old man said sagely, exaggerating his every word and spicing them with exotic exuberance. It fit with his costume. In addition to his horribly-fitting purple and yellow shirt, brown leather belt, and the Uaktrian Pakol Hat, he had dozens of rings and jewelry on, all of the Khosro design. Motifs of horses, elephants, lions, and man-faced manticores decorated them. To add to the travesty that was her great-grandfather, he was wearing heavy makeup, with lipstick, eyeliner, white face powder, and even a fake unibrow and beard. She wasn''t even sure what it was made of. Was it human hair or animal hair? Either way, she did not want to touch it. At. All.


    "I truly do look amazing, don''t I?" The old man said loudly, obviously messing with his young pupil. Without waiting for his ward''s approval or sycophantic approval, he flipped the window of their carriage open, he turned to their champion, a gruff one-eyed man named Qing Yoo-Shun. "I look grand, don''t I, Yoo-shun? My child is loath to give me a proper answer, and so I must turn to you."


    The champion bowed, his head low as if he was trying to kowtow on a horse, a feat which was by all rights impossible, yet, the champion seemed to pull it off perfectly. "Yes, your grave Majesty. You set the standard of all grandiosity in the world." Well. That held true if what was grandiose included the piles of shit left in the latrines, the young princess lamented, turning her head away in shame and of second hand embarassment. Come to think of it, some animals did find shit grandoise. Dung bettles amongst them, though they would probably vomit their guts out if they saw Yinghou right now. He seemed so comical. With his slanted eyes, gaunt cheeks, thin eyebrows, thin lips, and long, horselike nose, he looked like a caricature of an old sage as those old illustrations tried to potray them as. Only difference was, here, he was caked in comical makeup and adorned with more jewellry than even the young princess had. She looked down on her intricately designed silver and jade bracelets, comparing them to the significantly more spiritual, yet at the same time, simpler designs of the Khosro bracelets. Well. She couldn''t blame Khosro craftsmanship. They were simple, brutal, and forward, representative of the people themselves. Compared to the infinitely more byzantine culture of the Tianxia, the Khosro were a simple and honest people, honouring their heritage and 3000 year-long history with the grandest, yet, simplest of joys. Now, if only that damned old man would stop making a mockery of that culture with that damned outfit...


    "Come on, Yoo-shun, be honest! If I look terrible, just tell me! I did the makeup myself, you know, and I''m not an eunuch who specializes in such arts. It''s my first... third time!" The old retired emperor asked, his head still faced towards his subordinate. Of course. No wonder he looked like a caricature...


    The carriage hit a rough bump, and Jiangshi bounced slightly, only to see that the effect had a comical result on Yinghou, where his unibrow had been displaced. She stifled a giggle, but the young princess was still pretty sure the old man had still noticed it. He was as sharp and as shrewd as they came, and despite his eccentricity, he had been emperor for 50 years before he finally retired. One would not curvive that long by being ignorant of the people around you. Thankfully, it seemed like he was in a good mood. A better mood than she had seen in him for years. While he was not slothful by any means, she had never seen him be this... active, in preparing for something. Not during the new year celebrations, or the autumn festivals, or even the sun & moon festivals which were his favourites, where he would gorge himself on extreme amounts of sweet candies and tasty mooncakes. It was like a part of him that she had never seen before, and it surprised her.


    No... maybe it wasn''t vigor and impatience that she had seen, like that of a child who was eagerly awaiting his red packets. No. It was more panic, like a student in an exam hall, or a child awaiting punishment. Despite the cold winds that constantly blew in from the open window, the old man, who rarely broke a sweat, had sweat running down the sides of his face, his eyes seemed more panicked than anything... No... maybe it was both. Joy and panic at the same time... ? Was that it? What was he thinking about?


    The old emperor was as enigmatic as ever. Despite years of study under the best orators and diplomats the Silver Empire could offer, it seemed that none of them held a candle to the theatricality and duality of Xi Yinghou, for it seemed like no one had him figured out. Even she didn''t. He had too many different faces for her to hit a mark on what he actually was. Sometimes she felt like even he had lost track of who he actually was.


    "Your divine Majesty. The Earth has deigned to tarnish your grandiosity. If you were to fix it, I would have absolutely no problems." Obviously, diplomacy and pleasing an eccentric old man like Yinghou wasn''t the specialty of a mere bodyguard, though the interaction still made Jiangshi smile slightly, underneath her veil. "Ah, yes, yes. The unibrow. You know, the Khosro do love their unibrows. I never understood why, but it has always stood out to me amazingly so. They put it on their most beautiful women too! Personally, I believe it destroys their beauty, but to every culture their own..." Before he begun a rant, Jiangshi decided to stop him.


    "How far are we to Livi-Uaktria, Guardian of the Spectre." The young princess asked, in a feminine and soft voice, which, despite all appearances, still manages to express great arrogance and dominance with every word. Jiangshi had perfected this art over the years. After all, she had learned from the best, she thought, as she took a quick look at her guardian, who had not turned his gaze towards her, as he continued fixing his unibrow. It was essential to maintain this arrogance infront of courtiers and inferiors, to show them the majesty of the Tianxia, and to impress and cow them into submission before their divine lord and master.


    "We are about to arrive soon, your gracefulness." Yoo-shun pointed off into the distance to somewhere where Jiangshi could not see. "The walls are over there, and we can clearly see Mt Arethanes in the distance."


    "Ohh? We''re already here? We are much faster than my calculations had predicted!" Yinghou started, and with a jump, he was on his feet. He changed his voice, from that of an eccentric old man to that of an arrogant and fierce commander. "Open the canopy. I desire to look at that mountain with my own two eyes."


    The roof of the carriage split open, and Jiangshi heard the cracking and turning of wooden gears. Gusts of cold wind blew in, and the young princess tucked her hands under her numerous layers of clothing. A cold chill ran down the length of her spine, and she shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. Nothing could match the scenery though. Tall mountains dominated her view, and she noticed that there were in a valley. Green grass and alpine trees dotted the landscape, and she spotted dozens of rock houses and blocks dotting the landscape. Off in the distance, there were the tall towers and thick walls of Livi-Uaktria, the gateway to the east. It was an old and ancient city, built by the Zeuskoi hundreds of years ago when Phillipos the Conquerer had torn his way through the Khosroshar, bringing the shroud of death to 4 million people. It was a rich and powerful city, and was used as the capital of the Andhvarid Realm by the Shahanshah, Khosrow VI. Beyond that, she didn''t know much. She had never been to the Khosroshar, and her only knowledge of the realm came from the books and from various tutors, who talked of the empire as an equal of the Tianxia, but which had collapsed under its own weight and existed as a rump state on its eastern hinderlands.


    The months long trek through hundreds of miles of mountains and great, long steppes seemed to have paid off for this sight. It was beyond anything she could describe. With the tall conifers, the distant white, and the grassy green valley floor, it felt like a paradise to her. At the corner of her eye, she noted a tall, domineering presence. It was the Lonely God, or so that was what the Khosro called it. Supposedly the final destination of their god, Urava, it rose into the heavens like a tower, reaching out into the distant heavens, where the four stars rotated in perfect equilibrum. The orange light over the world seemed to only further the beauty. She took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, and smiled. Yes. This was good. It would be a pity to step into the city proper though, they tended to smell bad.


    A large troop of soldiers begun descending from the sky, about 60 of them. Their winged mounts leapt down, and with a twist of their hind lights, they were now infront of the entourage of Jiangshi and her guardian. The animals infront of her were large and ferocious, winged beasts. With the head of an eagle, the body of a lion, two, large, white wings, and the talons of a ferocious eagle, Jiangshi stared in awe at the magnificent steeds. She had never seen something like this, only having heard of them in books. Words could not describe their beauty, she thought. Their prideful and arrogant eyes, their straight, confident postures. They seemed to act like they were the kings of all animals, which, maybe, they were. Jiangshi had heard tales of griffons, of how they were birthed from rock and how they ruled over the animals with their iron-hard talons, their indomitable ensuring none could dominate over them. Apparently, a griffon would only accept a rider who had been with it at birth, or one who saw it as their child or kin, and they could live for maybe 40 to 50 years, or so the Khosro claimed.


    Their riders seemed no less extravagent. Their griffon warmasks seemed to glitter in the early morning sun, and their thoroughly polished armour practically shined. Wearing a decorated steel chestplate over a chainmail hauberk offered great protection, and alongside their fur capes, their steel vambraces, gorget and chausses and pauldrons, they seemed like heroes from an old book. Their left shoulders had a larger pauldron than that on the right, with a large protective cover that seemed to be trying to increase the armour of their left side. In their right hands, they held long, 3 metre long spears, and in their left, they held large, sharp steels of hard metal. The man infront of her seemed even more extreme. Standing at almost a metre and 90 centimetres, he seemed like a giant compared to everyone else around him. He did not wear a griffon warmask, but instead wore one in the likeness of the Andhvarid Kings, or Shahanshahs, as they were called. His armour was the most elaborate of them all, with a large carving of a Yazata, surrounding by thunder dominating the centre of the chestplate. And to add to it, he wore a great, long, lion cloak that seemed to hang off his steed. In addition, he had a red crown, with dozens of pearls and embers studded, it had a large diamond studded in the centre of the fabulously extravagent creation, obviously the centerpiece of a master craftsman''s magnum opus. To add to it, there were a large number of white and brown feathers stapled to the top of his crown, fluttering in the chilly air, making him look even larger. The weirdest features were his eyes though. With one ring around the pupil, it seemed to be bright and deep, yet at the same time, empty and shrewd. They had enchanted her. Were they lenses or were they real? She didn''t know. Her eyes were unique too. Red eyes. The sign of a long life. Lucky for her...


    "Gra-His Majesty is awaiting you, Taishang Huangdi. He has sent me and my Grivpanvar as guards to ensure you do not lose your way. Your army may make camp here, where we will supply them with anything they wish, within reasonable boundary. The city is at your service." The tall man exclaimed loudly in their language, his mask seemingly deepening and broadening his already imposing voice, making his accent ever more noticeable, while at the same time, leaving a deep impression of confidence and ferocity on them. He did not bow as he spoke. That meant he was royalty. Funnily enough, he seemed to have been just staring at the hilarity that was her guardian, and Jiangshi wondered what the man was thinking.


    An eunuch ran up to the old statesman''s ear, and upon hearing his commands, he immediately transformed into the spokesperson of the retired emperor, his shrill and woman-like voice doing a disrespect to his master''s own. "The Taishang Huangdi, his divine majesty, praise be upon his name, has conferred his respects upon you, and thanks you sincerely for your hospitality. He has brought numerous gifts for the intelligent and shrewd Shahanshah Khosrow, and he desires to bring them to him in person."


    The heavily armoured knight infront of her seemed to stare at the entourage of men infront of him, seemingly trying to judge their intentions, especially that of the eunuch, who he seemed to have conferred his disgust towards. It would be no use. If Jiangshi couldn''t break through the intentions of the elderly statesman, no one could. After a while, he relented, and turned towards a similarly dressed guard next to him, like he was awaiting a signal for approval. The tall soldier turned back, and nodded. "Welcome to Livi-Uaktria, Taishang Huangdi. May Urava confer his joy upon you. Please. Follow me and my men, we will bring you to the meeting ground."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Xi Yinghou called a general forward with a wave of the hand, and gave him a command to settle the retinue that was with them. Nodding, the officer rushed back, and begun to shout out numerous orders to unpack and rest. Meanwhile, the two royalty, along with a select personal guard, begun following the 60 man large guard, as they took a semi-circle formation around them, with the prince in the lead.


    After a short trot, about a few hundred metres, Jiangshi saw that they had now arrived at a large green field, at the base of a mountain. Guards seemed posted at every angle, and a large crowd had gathered around to see the exotic foreigners, guided by a prince and his guard. They might be wondering who they were. Well. It did not matter. They most likely would never see her again. The pikemen infront of her, Phalangatai, they were apparently called, blocked the entrance, and with a wave of his hand and a loud command from the princeling, they parted ways, and Jiangshi saw that, in the middle of the large field there stood a pavillion. The field was large, a few hundred square metres large. Off in the distance, a large bronze gate stood in place, the main entrance to the city of Livi-Uaktria


    Nearing the large, blue coloured pavilion, the princeling called his men to a halt, and called forward a number of slaves to be used as mounting blocks. As the carriage came to a stop, Arsaces leapt off his horse, ignoring his on slave, and moved to guide his patrons off, giving his hand to Yinghou, and then, Jiangshi. As the princess grabbed his hand, she felt him vibrating slightly. Was he nervous? She looked up at him, seeing nothing but an iron mask. He seemed like a giant compared to her, and even though she stood up well above the average woman at 165cm, the monstrously large man in her made her seem ever so small. It wasn''t just his size, it was his aura. Commanding, arrogant, uncaring, like that of a dragon''s. As the guards moved forward, the Taishang Huangdi halted them, and commanded them to stay in place.


    Bringing them to the pavilion, he begun to shed his weapons, passing them over to an attendant, and then asking the two to shed their own weapons as well, to which Yinghou obliged. He unsheathed his sword, passing it to the servant, and then pulled out a hidden dagger and blowdart, which he passed to the servant as well. The soldier''s eyebrows piqued for a moment, before he stifled a sigh, and guided them into the pavilion.


    The tall prince moved to the ground, and with one knee down, and his right arm pressed against the floor in a fist, he bowed. "Your terrible majesty, may you be immortal. The guests have arrived."


    Infront of them, Jiangshi spotted two people. A man and a woman, both older than 60. The woman did not seem much like anything, looking much like one of the elderly maidens that served as the master of the concubines in the royal palaces. She had an arrogant sneer in her eyes, and was dressed in expensive silks. The man had a hunchback and was slowly sipping at his drink. He seemed regal and royal, yet, tired and exhausted of it all. But despite that, Jiangshi noted that his tired eyes seemed to regain vigor at the sight of the guests His lips parted into a large smile, and standing up from his chair, he moved over to the chair opposing his, and pulled it open for Yinghou. Jiangshi widened her mouth slightly at the shock. Who was this man that was so casual with her regal great-grandfather.


    "You look like a mess, Yinghou." The old man, who Jiangshi now recognized as Khosrow VI, exclaimed. Her shoulders spiked, and despite all her instincts telling her that this was reality, she herself felt as if she was in a dreamscape. Her own guardian begun to laugh. "I am, aren''t I, Khosrow! You aren''t looking any better though. Atleast with my unibrow, I look like your beautiful wife." He gave an exaggerated bow to the old woman next to Khosrow, who stared at the two men incredulously. She seemed like she wanted to say something... maybe start a fight, but she didn''t dare to, even when Yinghou begun to openly pick at her, unibrow and all. Why did the Khosro even like those unibrows? They were so gaudy and ugly and... weird. Well. Weird to her, but still.


    As the two kings, one retired, and one still reigning, shook hands, and then after a brief moment, hugged, and took places on the seats that had been prepared for them both. Jiangshi took her guardian''s side, while the man who had brought them in begun to pour 2 cups of wine, and served it to the two men. Jiangshi continued to look at the two old statesmen, trying to judge their relationship. They were obviously close friends, but then, he never had mentioned him to her loudly. Sure, she knew that the relationship between the Andhvarids and the Jinguo was well and all, but she did not know that the two kings had a personal relationship of this magnitude. Royalty didn''t have friends. They seemed too close to one another for her comfort.


    "My scouts reported to me that you were arriving, and I made haste to make preparations for you, my dear friend." Khosrow said with a large grin. Jiangshi noticed the princeling, who had now moved to his king''s side in a military position twitched slightly, before relaxing. Maybe he noted that Khosrow had said a lie? Hm. Didn''t matter. "It was a mess. Your entourage was so stealthy. Leaving your army miles behind? That was genius. I had kept my men on guard spying your army, trying to find you. Hell, it was only because of Arsaces here that I even noticed you! Well. Speaking of Arsaces, this is Shahpur Arsaces Andhvarid, my grandson, and third in line to the throne. Hes extremely intelligent, maybe smarter than both you and I, Yinghou. You won''t believe how much this kid knows."


    "Hmm. Well, Arsaces, let me test you. Do you know who I am?" Yinghou asked.


    Arsaces muffled something undecipherable, and Khosrow sighed. "Take off your mask, Arsaces."


    The princeling unbuckled his mask, and with a quick movement, took it off. He tucked the mask into some far off compartment of his large cape and gave a sheepish smile. "Thank you, your majesty, may you be immortal."


    Turning back towards Yinghou and Jiangshi, she studied his features, which impressed Jiangshi heavily. His eyes were focused, full of power and will. His nose was long and wide, and he had a great winner''s smile, studded with two rows of big, white teeth. His nose seemed slightly dented towards the left, and there seemed to be the residue of a few stitch marks. His skin was clean and baked by the warm sun, clear of acne and other such impurities, and he had thick, black eyebrows. His jaw was chiseled, and combined with his other facial features, he seemed like a hero from a story. As far as she could see, this was his natural look, clear of any makeup, like the eyeliners and perfumes and other such cosmetic products that the Khosro allegedly loved. On the other hand, she also noted a few things that seemed off. His hair, long and straight, seemed slightly greasy, as if it had just been washed, and was arranged messily as it flowed down his lion skinned cape onto his chestplate. His eyes, focused as they were, also showed a brutality that did not seem afraid to pick a fight.


    The young princess noticed his eyes shining as he answered the question, as if he had been waiting for this moment. "You are Taishang Huang Xu Yinghou of the Tianxia Jinguo, responsible for the completion of the Fajunshoushu, a compilation and recording of a common law that is to be followed. It is nice to meet you, sir. Uh. Your divine majesty?" His eagerness was something new. Jiangshi hadn''t seen such raw, uncontrolled emotion in a long time. Was it the difference in cultures? His joy seemed infectious too, and the young princess could barely suppress a smile under her translucent hood, though Yinghou seemed unimpressed. Arsaces seemed like he wanted to hold his hand out for a handshake, but relented. It seemed that her guardian had caught onto this as well. Arsaces was definitely not a master in court etiquette.


    "I''m a foreigner. You don''t need to address me so formally. Sir will do. I figure that was an easy question." Yinghou seemed slightly displeased. The whitebearded old man pointed towards Jiangshi, as her eyes focused on the fingertip that was inches away from her face. "Who is she." That was an impossible question. For the most part, Jiangshi had rarely ever ventured beyond the palace, and very few people knew about her. Almost all information on her had been suppressed, and the only ones that remained were from... those books.


    Arsaces looked at the princess for some time, then turned back to the Taishang Huang. "She is Xu Jiangshi, my bride. What." He said with a big smile on his face, which started to dissipate as he realized what he had just said. His smile turned upside down, and his eyes seemed to slowly swivel towards her, his finger still in the air, his hand slowly closing into a fist.


    "Hes not intelligent, Khosrow, dear old friend. You lied. Again." The Taishang Huang muttered, turning towards the old Shahanshah.


    "Normally he is, but it just seems that the shock of having a ball and chain seems to have not yet set itself into him. Only now has his betrothed arrived has he realized the magnitude of his problems. You probably hoped I was joking, yes, boy?" Khosrow said, half-jokingly.


    Arsaces absolutely ignored his grandfather and king, turning to pour himself a cup of wine. Khosrow begun to laugh, and Yinghou snickered bitterly as well. Jiangshi herself was extremely shocked. So this was why her guardian had brought her to such a far place. To marry a bumbling, foolish, idiotic, albeit handsome, fool? She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. This was disaster.


    "Well. I desire some quiet time with my friend, now Arsaces, so please let me and my dear old Yinghou leave you two sweethearts in peace." Khosrow got up, and with the assistance of a guard, guided his friend out of the tent, leaving only Arsaces and Jiangshi in the large, flamboyant tent.


    With only the two of them left inside the spacious room, Arsaces took a seat, his eyes haunted as he passed towards Jiangshi a cup of wine. He sat at his grandfather''s chair, seemingly overhearing an animated conversation about city walls taking place outside the thin canvas tent as he played with the wine in his cup. Jiangshi started to look about the room, slightly embarassed and unwilling to begin a conversation as the atmosphere in the room took a sour turn, beginning to notice its contents. A beautiful red carpet in the corner, a few paintings of deities and gods, a number of beautiful gold ornaments decorated the room, with a large number of small tables left around, a wine serving complement at one side, and another serving water next to it. It was a beautiful, if complicated room. Everything had intricate, complicated designs, decorated with colourful fractals, motives, and hand-drawn paintings.


    "So... Can you speak Khosro?" The prince asked. Jiangshi noted that his goblet of wine had been emptied, and he was refilling it as they were speaking. Apparently, in the time had the young princess had been studying the room, Arsaces had brought a number of snacks as well, and infront of him was a plate of cookies which had not been there formerly.


    "Uhm. Yes. Yes I can" Jiangshi said shyly, not sure what to say. It felt too awkward to even try to open up to the prince infront of her. Arsaces begun to eye her, obviously studying her, but quickly gave up and turned out towards the door. Looking at him, she could only see a fool. Jiangshi wished she could cry out of self pity. What had she done to deserve this fool?


    "Did you know about this... contract?" Arsaces waved his hand nonsencially in the air, as he slouched towards the side. The young princess felt like screaming. How could someone be this obtuse and incompetent at diplomatic affairs. She wasn''t his classmate friend!


    Jiangshi shook her head. "His divine majesty gives me information at his will, and I am but a servant of his divine will. Whatever comes, I will accept." She said, mostly to comfort herself and reassure herself that everything would go well. Obviously it wasn''t. Deep down, the young princess couldn''t help but wonder why her guardian had sold her off to a far off country, and she worried that she would die from an assassin a week in.


    "Well." Arsaces took a sip from his glass. "My grandfather told me this a week ago, but I had entirely forgotten about it as I ran around preparing for your damned arrived." He spoke out roughly, giving a condescending, arrogant look. "If it was up to me, this wouldn''t even happen. I have no plans of getting married, in maybe. 10 years? I don''t know. I''ve always wanted to explore the world and taste it''s delicacies before I settled down."


    His blunt, vulgar attitude surprised the young princess, who, though knew of such vulgarities, having been around the Taishang Huangdi, still could not help but recoil at how he was debasing himself. A failure. An embarrassment. A walking travesty dressed in a glorious cape. A fool who knew not the subtleties of diplomacy, who insulted her pride infront of her. Jiangshi felt her eye twitch slightly, which was thankfully concealed underneath a thick, translucent veil. If this was to be her husband she would rather die. Thinking to herself such dire thoughts, she rolled her eyes, sighing softly. She said nothing


    The princeling infront of her scratched his head, slightly confused as to what to continue on with, looking about awkwardly at her. It was plain that the young prince, who had been so confident and blunt in his conversation earlier, had very little experience speaking with others, or dealing with new experiences. He seemed so confused, so weak. The chinks in his armour were exposed everywhere, and he would a bumbling bufoon of a diplomat, if he ever did come to the throne that was. Looking away, Jiangshi started to wonder just what had made such an idiot. A sheltered childhood? Idiocy? She sighed. He would be the death of her.


    "And by the hand of nature, am I endowed with the barest of the world''s blessings and curses alike." Jiangshi muttered out softly, quoting an old philosopher.


    "And so I will journey on, ever silent in my search for an eternal remedy, to this cursed blessing." Arsaces quoted half-heartedly, and Jiangshi shot up, turning back towards her future husband. He seemed uncaring, slurping away at his cup of wine. "So says Yan Chingkuo..."


    It was with this that the black-haired princess'' jaw finally dropped. Looking at the prince with a befuddled expression, she stuttered. "You know who Yan Chingkuo is?"


    "A poet that walked all the way across Uaktria by foot to study under the great Zeuskoi philosopher Plotenes? Yep. Grandf-his terrible majesty stored a number of his poems in the grand library." Arsaces grinned, obviously in his element. Continuing on smugly, "I''m a literary genius, you know. I''ve trained under the greatest poets and writers of the Khosroshar."


    Jiangshi ignored his exaggeration, entranced by his arrogant smile. His eyes were begging for a fight, and unable to control herself, she took the bait. "Through the eye of the storm and of the pinprick of divinity, I shall obtain the elixir to everything and to nothing."


    "And through the hand of Ashoka the Lightning and by the cruel fate of eternity will I burden this gift for none to bear witness to, for this is my fate." Arsaces immediately piqued, and after a moment, his hand morphed into a finger pointing upwards. "Almost easy. Zhong Zhongshan, the court bureaucrat in his famous speech against the alchemist king."


    Knashing her teeth together, Jiangshi pushed herself forward, lifting herself off the cushioned chair and onto her seat. " I will soon take off that wreath, called eternity, for he is unworthy of my gift to mankind."


    "And so the wreath was taken off, as Kokytis swept him away. Ardeshir Cteisphid of Livi-Uaktria. Easy."


    "No, it was written by Alexandros the Cunning of Balkh, you dim witted idiot." Jiangshi fought back, enraged by his arrogance.


    "Jinguo propaganda, only to satisfy your own lack of famous poets by creating the fictional Alexandros. He never existed, atleast not the one from Balkh. If he really was Zeuskoi then you would see much more exaggerating features, as opposed to the blunt, straightforward, almost unpoetic, if not inspired narrative that he weaves. Hes Khosro, not Zeuskoi." The handsome prince said bluntly, as if the argument was finished just by his word. Jiangshi felt the anger in her rising, and struggled against the tide of emotions.


    "Awards to him who can finish this riddle, the trial that awaits him is an arduous one" Jiangshi forced herself to continue sneering, awaiting Arsaces to fall into her trap.


    "Long and hard it shall be, for 50 years, ye prince who art thou thy fool, befall upon your arrogance and may you be rendered broken!" The tall prince finished, a great smile pasted onto his face. Three moments passed, and Arsaces finally realized what had happened. "You''re a tricky one." He hissed out, still smiling. "I didn''t expect you to be this clever."


    "Neither did I." Jiangshi smiled mindlessly as she giggled. "You''re not as stupid as I thought."


    "You''re not as upstuck as I thought either!" Arsaces grinned, and begun to laugh. "I wouldn''t mind marrying you now, you know. You seem cool."


    Jiangshi blushed and immediately stopped laughing, as her grin fell off. Did she just hear what she had heard?


    Watching Arsaces, she looked at him dumbfounded. Was that... a marriage proposal? She blinked multiple times, watching the young prince laugh. She didn''t know what to say anymore.


    -=0=-

 Chapter 3: Of family

    What was this. This didn''t make any sense at all. Arsaces fondled the jewel encrusted cup in his hands, looking down on the chilled wine in it. He wondered what face he was making right now. Was it one of a haunted victim of possession, or that of a gallows victim. It didn''t matter. They were practically the same. He didn''t even know what his bride looked like. All that praising was just posturing and the quips of an overtly enthusiastic young prince, who wanted to charm a foreign princess and gain some favour. The only thing he had gotten was a future wife whose face he didn''t even know. He looked up from his wine cup and stared out over the dinner hall.


    With Xu Yinghou arriving soon, Khosrow had been preparing a feast of large proportions. This had been carried out for the past week since that damned eagle had arrived, and Arsaces had been extremely busy With his father, the Shahzade Darius rallying the army for a war game exercise, Arsaces had taken the role that his absent father or ailing grandfather would normally have taken, the managing of the arrangements, meals, and invitations. They knew that people management was something Arsaces was weak at, and the old Emperor had taken special interest in pushing these responsibilities to him to prepare him for kingship. Despite knowing everything, Arsaces still couldn''t feel anything but bitterness. He hadn''t progressed a word in his thesis since, and even now he desired rest. Maybe Ahriman would take him away from this mortal plane, where his soul could rest under the rock for eternity and more. He sighed.


    The young prince had taken special care to organize this as well as possible, and had stayed up many nights to ensure that the most minute details were well taken care of. Dishes, entertainment, and sitting plans had to be organized properly, with the closest to the Shahanshah sat closest to him and so on and on. Arsaces himself would take the right wing of the dinner table at the second throne as his father was off busy conducting military excercises, and so he would have to put up his disgusting fa?ade as the royal prince. Many of the nobles invited wore expensive silks and cloths, their perfumed beards and make-up caked faces made them look like one another, but even then, Arsaces recognized a select few. The Andhvarids had ruled over large tracts of land in the past, but 40 years ago, they had been pushed out of their old capital and into their eastern hinterlands, where the Shahanshah Khosrow VI ruled now from Livi-Uaktria. He presided over a multicultural empire, and Arsaces had been forced to learn the important social divisions and ruling classes of the empire.


    The Asronan, priests, dressed in their plain white uniforms which were decorated with lockets, amulets, and other such jewelries, the numerous Spahbeds and Artestarans, professional soldiers and officers, mostly drawn from the nobility, of which numbered the Shahrdoran, Wurzwugan, the Azadan, the Dehqans. Vassal kings, the powerful grandees, dukes, marquises, counts, viscounts, and the gentry. The divisions of the Khosroshar were numerous and exhaustive, and Arsaces could not personally bear to remember everyone''s titles and names. He had to though, for it was expected of a prince who was to become king. Didn''t mean he liked it though.


    Arsaces noted that in the far off end of the room, a large throne made of rare metals stood tall and full of arrogant opulence. With numerous cushions, there were also dozens of ambers, emeralds, diamonds, and various other such jewels encrusted onto it. A large red crown, the symbol of power, standing at 2 feet and a heavy 10 kilograms, was hung from the roof with a sturdy rope. Its seat was empty though, and its wearer, the frail and old Khosrow VI, was at the moment chatting away happily with his old friend, the guest, Xu Yinghou, who was chewing away happily at a roasted pheasant, coated in honey and berry sauce. Fortunately, the eccentric guest had wiped away his horrendous makeup, and was looking much more human now. Arsaces turned back towards his cup, taking a sip of the sweet wine, hoping that the night would pass by quickly.


    He despised these ceremonies. They were too opulent for his tastes, even if they were essential to maintaining the image as the Shahanshah, the King of Kings. On the bright side, it seemed as if the coming of a close friend had made grandfather much happier. His face was more full now, and he even seemed to have recovered his posture, walking about with a contradictory confidence in his limping, as he engaged in a deep conversation about something with his close friend. The two had a close history which Arsaces obviously did not know of. He knew the two kings had worked together extensively years ago, and their personal relationship had greatly benefitted both empires. Arsaces pondered on about the two men and smiled slight. If the opulence did have one good thing about it, it would be that it kept his grandfather happy, and that was good enough.


    On the right hand side of the old man, there sat the young foreign princess, his bride-to-be. The word bride scared him. Even now her face was concealed with a heavy veil. He could only see her lower mouth, which was at the moment barely moving as she ate her meal. She seemed extremely graceful, her every move calculated and every action pre-meditated. It was a stark contrast to the young princeling, who even now tended to play with his food. He was prone to using his sleeves to wipe his mouth of stains as well, and had to remind himself not to do such things. It was exhausting, and Arsaces wondered how she could handle it.


    "Your excellency." Came a young and loud voice from next to him. Arsaces turned around, recognizing a schoolmate of his, a young man named Cyrus Buyid. Cyrus was the child of the king, or Khan, of the Buyids, a nomadic Dahae horse steppe tribe that swore fealty to Khosrow VI. His family had been subdued by Khosrow when the young king had been made Shahrdaran of Uaktria and Dahae, almost half a century back, and they had remained loyal. Cyrus was short and pudgy, but nonetheless, he was curiously handsome despite it all. Only 19, he spotted a large and bushy beard, opposed to his twin brother, Darius Buyid, who in turn spotted none. The two young men were always together, but recently, Darius had fallen ill. "Why do you look so depressed. You should be happy! You are getting a wife!"


    "How did you... nevermind." The young prince cried out, before stopping himself. Rumours in the royal palace ran like wildfire. No one could stop it, not even his holy divinity, Urava himself. He took a look over the table, his eyes resting on his bride. Could she hear him?


    "A wife... whose face I don''t even know." Arsaces covered his eyes with his fingers, pressing against his temples as he continued ranting. "Urava save me. What did I do to deserve this."


    "Well, for one, you were born a Wishpuran. You have only yourself to blame." Cyrus joked, but Arsaces wasn''t in the mood, and gave him a stern stare, but relented. "I never did choose to be a prince, you know. I want to be a hero, to save a princess and take her as my bride when she falls in love with me, her saviour. Not some foreigner... Gosh. I don''t even know why we''re marrying! No ones explaining anything to me."


    "Hey, calm down, your excellency. You said you never saw her face, yes?" Cyrus smiled genially. "Well, imagine this. The Tianxia Emperors tend to take the most beautiful of all women as their concubines, yes? So, imagine how beautiful this woman must be then."


    What kind of warped logic was that? Arsace squinted and looked at Cyrus, and he softened his tone into a harsh whisper. "Are you blind? What if she looks like our esteemed guest over there?" He pointed his thumb over towards the Taishang Huang, who was consumed in his dish, his lips comically coated with berry sauce.


    "I don¡¯t know. Cut back 60 years and make him a girl and I think he''ll be pretty cute as a girl. Come on, you know what they say. The Jinguoren may be devilish and amoral, but their women are the prettiest around. Have some faith, your excellency. Plus, look at her lips. Deep red, luscious, fat. Just the way you like them, don¡¯t you, like two slices of salmon."


    The young prince continued staring at his schoolmate, then after a minute of unblinking judgement, he turned towards Jiangshi, who was looking in his direction. Her lips really were fat. "I hate you Cyrus."


    The young noble begun snickering, closing his eyes and wheezing slightly. "You''re welcome, your excellency."


    Arsaces stood up, piling onto his plate a large portion of cold cut pork meat and taking a large goblet of wine for himself. "I''m going to catch some fresh air. The atmosphere here is disturbing. If anyone asks you where I am, tell them I''m on a mission from his majesty, and that if they disturb me, I''ll personally flog them."


    The steppe prince gave a mock salute, smirking as he did. "Yes, your excellency. You''re turning into a prim and proper Khosro prince now aren''t you."


    "Shut up." Arsaces half-jokingly responded as he took a dish of cold meat and a cup of Basarangian wine, leaving his noble friend to himself. The young princeling guided himself through the human maze of scented perfumes and strong fruit-like smells, he found himself at a large door. With some expert dexterity, honed from years of extensive physical training, he unlocked the door with his elbow, and then closed it behind him, and found the effect to be immediate. The chatterings of venal gentry, eunuchs, bureaucrats and ministers had softened down, and Arsaces found himself able to collect his thoughts. He took a deep breath in, and then another out. He had never been in his element around so many people. Sure, he loved talking, but feasts and such gatherings were a different problem. It felt so unnerving and uncomfortable simply being among the crowd, gossiping and plotting. He wasn''t sure why, but that was what it was. Maybe it was the stale smell of plots and intrigue in the air? That was always a possibility. It would be best if he could just silence them all, to retract all their titles and destroy their ambitions. Then he could finally be at peace, and maybe he would be able to write his thesis.


    Arsaces climbed down the grim stone stairs infront of him, the dark stairway lighted only by dim candles. The stone walls occasionally gave way to open windows, where the cold night breeze showered his body with chilly vibes. It was a beautiful night, one that was perfect for writing. Arsaces wondered if he would be able to make it back to his quarters without anyone noticing. No. That would be impossible. Grandfather would definitely notice if he was missing, and then, he would be in deep trouble. Turning a right, Arsaces fumbled his pockets for the key, and opened the wooden door to the outside. The creaking old door gave way, and Arsaces found himself as the base of the castle, a secret entrance into the courtyard. It was a clear sky tonight, and the moon was high up in the sky, its crescent running ever so slowly through the darkness, awaiting the four suns to push it away. Khosro tradition has it that the moon came up every night to find her lost lover, and would run away when her husband, the four coloured sun, came up in the early dawn. Who or what her lover was, no one knew. They only knew that she had a lover. This entrance was used for any emergency messengers, if they had such important notifications that they had to tell the king in a hurry. He followed the route for a minute, turning a left, and taking a door through towards the private stables, where he found his mount, a young, unfriendly griffon named Shahrbaraz.


    The griffon had been with Arsaces for a long time, maybe since birth. He didn''t know. The beast had been around since he was a little boy. It was tall and slender, standing up to a height of a metre and a half on all four legs, and maybe two and a half on its hind legs, its wing span was large, almost 5 metres, by his estimates. It had a beautiful white coat of feathers at the front, which was tipped with a blood red that made it seem all the more cunning and dangerous. Down towards the rear, the feathers dissipated to a luscious white skin, which was accentuated with red dots. A beautiful mount, all in all. He was maybe Arsaces one true companion. It didn''t pretend to be someone else around him, not like his schoolmates, his tutors, or any of those vain nobles. All of them reeked of schemes, plots and masks. Masks over masks over masks. Liars, all of them. Sinners... UnrepentantSupport the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "Hey Shahrbaraz. I brought you some cold cut pork meat. From the leg. Best part." He placed the plate down infront of the great beast, smiling as he did. Arsaces moved to pat the animal, but as quick as he was, he could not match the reflexes of the king of all beasts, who growled without even looking at the young prince. "A smart fucker aren''t you, eh Shahrbaraz?"


    The steed purred, or well, as much as a griffon could physically purr, and started picking away at the food. Arsaces, exhausted, sat down and reclined back onto the beast''s furry stomach, closing his eyes. He didn''t realize just how tired he had been recently. Wondering if it showed on his face, he wiped at his brow, coating his finger with a soft mixture of white powder and sweat. Makeup. He hated how uncomfortable it felt, and wondered to himself how anyone could even enjoy such things. Maybe it was peer pressure? Or maybe he was just different. The second option made more sense, atleast to him. He had always had different ideas from the people around him. Better ideas, sometimes, especially around people who were unqualified for their positions of power, who squandered it and showed off like signet rings or trophy concubines.


    The griffon gave a low, approving growl, and Arsaces smiled. While griffons couldn''t read minds, Arsaces was convinced that his steed and him were closely connected enough that the beast could read his thoughts, simply from his movements alone. "Yeah, yeah, I know Shahrbaraz. You don''t like those posturers either..."


    "Is that his name?" Arsaces heard a soft, feminine, heavily accentuated voice behind him. Mindlessly, Arsaces responded, his eyes still closed. "Yeah. It means Boar of the Realm..."


    As he did so, he realized. Had someone followed him? He stretched himself back and propelled himself to his feet through propulsion, finding himself face to face with a shocked, veiled young lady, with big red lips. Jiangshi. His bride.


    Taking a stern tone, Arsaces questioned her. "What are you doing here? You should be with your grandfather." Women were not supposed to go around alone without a man. No culture in the world, barring maybe some of the more exotic tribes east of the Nikelo Empire, allowed that.


    "Well, the situation there was getting rowdier. Many of the men had begun to drank too much, and I too may have had too much drink. I saw you escape through the backdoor, and I decided to follow you. Anywhere was better than there." She said, softly. Her voice had an air of regality and arrogance in it, yet at the same time, there was a certain cunning in it, a thieves cunning, like she was hiding something from him. Was she an assassin? No. That wouldn''t make any sense. He sighed.


    "Well, if you want to join me, feel free to sit here. If you want some food, you can share it with Shahrbaraz and me. If you want drink, I''ll be glad to share, though I wouldn''t recommend it, if what you say is true."


    "Thank you." Jiangshi muttered out respectfully, bowing as she did. There was something weird about her, the manufactured replies and such. He should despise her, yet there seemed to be a kernel of honesty and truth within her that made him separate her from the others. Was it because he knew they were to be married, and was mentally preparing himself to make exceptions? No, no. That didn''t seem likely. As human as he was, this wasn''t one of his flaws.


    As the foreign princess looked about, she watched as Arsaces sat down on the straw bed, next to Shahrbaraz, resting his back on the griffon. "Is it really okay to sit on the ground?"


    The prince stared at her, pondering her question for a moment. "I mean. It doesn''t kill you?" He said out loud, before realizing what she had meant by the question. He begun laughing, and then begun to strip his lion-skin coat. Of course she couldn''t sit on the straw. She was a proper lady and all that. Guess some things were the same no matter where you were.


    Folding his coat into a suitably thick layer, he placed it on the straw bed, and patted it there. "There. It should be good for you now."


    "Ah..." Jiangshi seemed like she wanted to disagree, but sighed. Pulling her skirt up slightly, she pulled it forward and placed herself on the straw bed of the griffon. Arsaces smiled at her, and she smiled back as well. From this close, Arsaces could smell her scent. It was soft and subtle, perfectly suited for someone who seemed as small and dimunitive as her. She was tiny, by Arsaces standards, maybe 1.65 metres. Through her beautiful dress, Arsaces spotted her contours and beautiful body. While it wasn''t busty or exorbitant, it was athletic, lean, and curiously modest, possibly the result of a controlled and constant exercise. She had big hips, small shoulders, and long legs that seemed to attract all the attention. Even though she was dressed in a long cheongsam that concealed her entire body, Arsaces still found it weirdly attractive. As Arsaces begun to observe her, he noticed that one of her hands had only 3 fingers. He blinked, counting it again. Yes. 3. He wasn''t blind. The last 2 fingers of her right hand were missing. He pondered whether to ask her about it, but as she withdrew it, he relented.


    Looking at her, she seemed slightly reluctant, and had shifted her hand behind her back. "Ah. Sorry." He said.


    "No, no. Its okay. It was from an accident, a long time ago." She replied curtly. No. It definitely was not afraid. Arsaces was bad with people, but even he knew he had grasped a touchy subject for her. He reminded himself to pretend it wasn''t there. Thinking up a way to make things up, he offered her his drink. "Here. Its Parsian. I drew it out of the cellars for this occasion. My grandfather, his majesty, is a great collector of drink, and it is a pretty much a custom in the family to drink often, and heavily. Every one of us are heavy drinkers. This one is about a century old, bottled in the time of Peroz I. Drink up."


    He passed the cup over to Jiangshi''s hands, and she looked down at the drink, her hands on it. After a moment, she gave it back, shaking her head. "Sorry. I can''t share."


    "Saliva conscious? You should really get over that." Arsaces asked, his usual obtuseness returning.


    "No, no. Customs." She replied slowly. As Shahrbaraz purred, Jiangshi leapt up a little, maybe having forgotten that she had been sitting next to a living animal. Arsaces wondered how much she left the palace. Her skin seemed extremely pale, almost snow white, or atleast, whatever the young prince could see through the multi-coloured robes that shielded her skin from the elements, yet showed off her body. "How old is it?" Jiangshi asked, looking at the beast with some amazement.


    "He''s 18. Same age as me. He''s been with me for as long as I''ve been around." Arsaces stood up, using the fleshy body of his steed to support himself up, incurring a mean stare from him. "Do you want to pat him? He won''t mind." Of course that was a lie. Shahrbaraz was as tempermental as they came. He wouldn''t harm her though, maybe scare her slightly. Shake her off her royal butt for once.


    Jiangshi turned around, eyeing the steed. It looked at her lazily, then his eyes trailed towards her hand, as if daring her to pat him. Arsaces suppressed a smirk. As Jiangshi reached out, she started rubbing his head softly, and... he didn''t move. Infact, it felt like he was enjoying it. Jiangshi begun to scratch under his jaw, and he gave out a pleasured purr. Arsaces only stared in disbelief, still suppressing his mouth, unaware that his eyes had betrayed all emotion.


    The princess noticed this, turning towards him. "Hmm? Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong?"


    Arsaces shook his face, slapping himself with his hand, leaving a bright red mark on the side of his face. "No, no. Its nothing." He sat back down, closer to his betrothed now. "Hes never allowed me to pat him like that before. Everytime I do, he tries to bite my hand off like a feral dog."


    Jiangshi only giggled, smiling. "Maybe I''m better with animals than you are, Arsaces."


    "Then I guess you''ll make a good rider when we marry then." Arsaces quipped nonchalantly.


    "Rider? I''ve never ridden before..." Jiangshi replied. Arsaces turned towards her with some shock. "Never ridden? Ehh. Well, that makes sense I suppose. You Jinguoren aren''t riders. Everyone here knows how to ride. My sister and mother both, grandmother too. It¡¯s a tradition I guess."


    "You Khosro are riders, yes?"


    "Hmm? Oh, no no. That¡¯s a mistake that sometimes we even tend to make. The Khosro people are divided into numerous divisions. Those in the royal lands are mostly the agricultural Uravans, while those in the north are the pastoral Dahae. The Andhvarids are traditionally Dahae, our first king having been had a Dahae chief as his father. It¡¯s abit complicated, but that¡¯s the jist of it. There are also the Zeuskoi, Jahlavians, Dairoknans, and some sparse Yoghurk tribes as well, though that¡¯s exploded in number since the Olmezids took Pars. Ah. Eh. This probably doesn''t make much sense to you, does it?"


    "No, no. Its okay. I get the overall picture now." Jiangshi replied. "So... everyone in your family rides?"


    "Yep. Griffons, more specifically, though some in the past have eschewed these animals for others, like elephants or warlions. These animals are bonded to you since birth, and when they mark you, you''re marked for life. They only allow people who they know well onto them."


    "Oh. Then I wouldn''t be able to ride your steed here... uh..."


    "Shahrbaraz. That¡¯s his name."


    "Shahrbaraz. Right." Jiangshi turned towards Arsaces. "What convinced you to come up with the name?"


    The young princeling grinned. "It seemed cool at the time."


    "Cool?" Jiangshi questioned. "What do you mean?"


    "Well, I had named him this back when I was 4, and now he sticks by it. Sometimes I wonder if he hates me for it. Griffons are intelligent animals, and they damn well know how to hate." At that, the young prince gave an exaggerated growl at the Griffon, who replied lazily with a growl of his own. Jiangshi giggled slightly, releasing her hands from rubbing the king of beasts, who had gotten used to her. Shahrbaraz whined, but quickly recovered, turning back to resting on his straw bed.


    As the young prince opened his mouth to begin a different topic, he heard a distant bell, and immediately stopped. One. Two. Three. Four.... six. Six volleys. Arsaces'' eyes sharpened. Six.


    "Shit. I need to go. His Majesty needs me." Arsaces shouted out, passing his goblet roughly into the hands of his betrothed.


    "Whats going on?" Jiangshi asked, shocked, trailing behind the prince as he rushed up to the door. "The Shahanshah, his majesty, is close to death. I need to be there." As he did so, Arsaces noted that the entire palace had broken out in activity, as lights and lamps begun to turn open. It was an emergency and crisis


    Arsaces rushed up the stairs, leaving the young foreigner behind, and he leapt into a fury of action as he stepped into the dinner hall. A large number of nobles had gathered at the doorways, and Arsaces grunted harshly in disapproval. "By the order of Arsaces Andhvarid, his excellency, the grandson of your Shahanshah, get the hell out of my way. Disobey me and die."


    This was enough to shock the petty and vain nobles into action, and they quickly made way for him. Arsaces sprinted up the stairs, threatening anyone who was in his way with death and flogging if they did not get aside. The last moments of a Shahanshah''s life could be fraught with disaster, especially if he had not set his items in order. Luckily Khosrow had been diligent in that aspect, but nonetheless, Arsaces wanted to ensure that no one came anywhere near the dying emperor. Eunuchs, bureaucrats, former ''allies'', even family. At the end of one''s life, they would want to cut up and divide the spoils of this death. Whatever the Shahanshah said needed to be written down, typified, verified by loyal onlookers, and sealed. Any manipulations of the script were tantamount to treason and were punishable by death in the most painful ways ever conceived. As Darius was absent from the royal city, Arsaces, the closest relative to the emperor, had to be there to keep his last moments free of any disasters. As the young prince rushed into a grandiose hall and took a sharp left to the cramped and book-filled room that the king of kings had taken as his own. Outside the room, there stood still the two slave palace guards, their throats slit to prevent any word being spoken out. A small flock of servants had gathered outside the room, and upon sighting the prince, immediately made way for him, bowing as they did, not daring to meet his eyes. Ignoring them, Arsaces rushed into the room


    The dark, barely lit room smelt heavily of incense. Not a good sign. Walking past the large painting of Urava and through the bead curtains, the young prince found himself alone with the two old friends, his grandfather on the bed, eyes closed with the court physician, a Nikelo by the name of Oribasius, treating him, and the old foreign king, Xu Yinghou, by his bedside, reading out loud a book. On the sight of the young prince, Yinghou stopped. "Your majesty, may you be immortal." Arsaces dropped to his knees, his entire body prostate on the floor.


    "Arsaces?" Khosrow opened his eyes, turning towards his grandson. "Ah. Right. Arsaces. Get up. I''ve been waiting for you. Took you long enough."


    "I apologize, your majesty, but I was busy conversing with Jiangshi, my bride." The young prince replied plainly and honestly.


    "Ah. As honest as ever. Your biggest strength and flaw..." Khosrow turned back towards the ceiling, a beautiful mosaic of the celestial bull having been imprinted to it. Arsaces swore that he heard Khosrow swear something under his breath. "I''ve settled the order and have finally thought up a will. Can you get me a cup of water?" The old man asked, and Arsaced obliged. Rising to his feet, he made the quickest haste towards the nearby cups and jugs, filling one up for his king and grandfather. The old king pushed himself up, refusing Arsaces help, and took the cup by it''s sides, his hands shaking ever so slightly.


    "Yinghou, Oribasius. May I ask of the two of you to be my witnesses? Arsaces, please prepare a pen and paper. I wish you to write. Try your best to fix your handwriting, boy. If this is illegible, I''ll come back from the grave to haunt you." Khosrow begun to laugh, but then, broke out into a fit of violent coughs, dropping the cup of water down to his crotch and legs as he moved to cover his mouth. There was blood on it. Consumption. The synptoms had only gotten worse in the past few weeks, and even the brief respite of Yinghou''s presence had done nothing to delay it. It seemed that he would die tonight, maybe tommorow, if he was lucky. The young princeling felt something pull at his heart, and his eyes begun to well up. No. He wouldn''t cry. He turned and ran to grab a writing set, one of many that the old scholar had, and wrapped out a clear piece of parchment. It was an honour to serve as the king''s final scribe, and Arsaces intended to do it well.


    The doctor had moved to grab a dry towel to clean up the mess, and Yinghou had moved to comfort his friend with some medicine. As the hunchback recovered, he found strength within him to continue on talking. "As Khosrow VI Andhvarid, King of Kings... ah. You know the drill, Arsaces. Just write the whole spiel down. I need some water. Oribasius? Please."


    -=0=-