Olena felt bad for the man, if only for a brief moment. He had hoped to be a hero in all this, and all she was doing was rapidly berating him for even trying. Truth be told, she had expected a hero to swoop in and rescue her from her fate a long time ago. And it never happened. Men used her and bought her body, but never took her away from the pain and torture of being a sex slave.
His attempted to do so now felt insulting. She had been saving herself for quite some time, thank you very much.
As he finally set her down, she quickly adjusted her chiton, the plain fabric having bunched up around her legs when she was carried. Olena straightened herself up, looking over the man as they stood close. He was dark and handsome but certainly wasn’t her type. And while she hadn’t had much experience with free men from other parts of the world, she was familiar with the enslaved ones.
His past would be interesting to hear.
She rolled her eyes a bit. “Yes, better things. Have you never seen a panic attack before?” She waved him off as if it was a normal thing that everyone has seen once in their lives. They were far less common than she wanted to believe. “Half the city is burning, and you are focused on one life. It is noble, to be sure. But a waste.” There was something about men who thought she needed a noble touch that drove her mad. As if they knew what was best for her.
Her hands settled on her hips, eyes searching the heavens for an answer. And instead, she could only come up with sarcasm, “Are you going to make up for being raped at 14? Or the lifetime of abuse I have suffered at the hands of men? No, most likely not.” She stepped back from him, “And to be quite honest, you are wasting your time trying. The longer you stand here trying to convince me that I need your assistance, people who actually do may lose everything.”
She could hear shouting, directions for women and children to take shelter in a nearby temple. Made of stone, they would be safe from the destruction of the fire. “I can make my way to the temple just fine. Go find someone else who needs assistance.” Olena didn’t wait for him to respond, instead of turning hot on her heels and following the crowd into the closest temple.
Heat came rushing towards Maximus' cheeks. He wanted to say that the woman was wrong but something in his throat that prevented him from speaking. It was as though a hand reached out and grabbed Maximus' throat. As a soldier, he was taught to maintain discipline but Maximus was already crumbling like a sack of bricks from this woman's words. “Are you going to make up for being raped at 14? Or the lifetime of abuse I have suffered at the hands of men? No, most likely not.” she spat.
Maximus remained silent, he spent most of his life enduring mockery by the children for being a cursed by Poisiden. His father had told him not to let it bother Maximus, but In truth, the mockery still bothered Maximus even after trying to drown it all out during his training. With Maximus and his mother unable to have any children, the family line was sure to fade away. His father didn’t give in to despair and told Maximus to leave his mark in history to become the greatest soldier that Colchis had ever seen. Maximus made it his duty to achieve that goal to be a soldier that everyone remembers a hero who will save the downtrodden. To die a soldier that the people will celebrate would be the greatest glory of them all. Maximus can’t leave heirs but he could leave a legacy behind. But here was this woman mocking him. Telling him that it was foolish to do so. Shame came over Maximus’ face, this woman had suffered worst than beatings and bared the emotional scars of it. It was beyond Maximus’ abilities and the woman was right to say that it was pointless to save her when there are others are in dire need of help.
“The needs of the many,” Maximus mumbled when the woman ran off. That was what his father said. “The needs of the many are what matters.” But still, that woman was still haunted by a horrific past that Maximus wasn’t sure that he can fix In fact he knows he can’t. With the buildings collapsing thanks to the flames, Maximus turned on his heel to help anyone who needed assistance.
Maeva couldn’t help but exhale an exasperated breath. If Galatea believed she was doing her slaves a favor by permitted them to stay with her she was terribly wrong. Maeva understood this well, but apparently the blonde beauty did not.
Before she had the opportunity to respond, a man -- Maeva knew his face as Mihail of Thanasi -- atop a horse called to them. Could he help them. She had to will herself not to scoff. Well-intentioned, perhaps, but Maeva was sure the last place to crumble would be the stone structures such as the temples. It was sweet he wanted to help them out of danger, admirable.
But stupid.
There were others who weren’t so able-bodied or lacked their wits in the chaos that could benefit from his generosity far more than Maeva or Galatea could. “Ze immediate danger is not ‘ere, My Lord. We will make due. Take your ‘elp to zose in greater need.”
Respectful, though still somewhat curt. There was no time for Maeva to waste words on a nobleman whose priorities were terribly skewed.
Once she had Galatea alone again -- or no less alone than she had been before -- Maeva would look her over. She really was planning on keeping her slaves clinging to her skirts, wasn’t she? The pretty, blonde fool. She supposed she could try to reason with the woman, explain how it was safer for her slaves to cower in the temple, that they’d only get in the way… it seemed equally foolish to waste time on explaining trivialities.
“As you like. Zeir lives are yours, we shall see if zeir dea’ss are yours as well.” Maeva asserted, unwilling to have it said she hadn’t warned against this decision. “You may call me Maeva. Let us be swift. Zis way!”
She pushed past the scared citizens clamoring into the temple and ducked into the shadows of one of the side streets. Maeva knew a shortcut into the lower levels of the city where the fires were staking their claim. She slid away a stone wall that otherwise would have appeared seamlessly to belong to the building to which it was attached to reveal a secret alley with a descending staircase.
Maeva's eyes stung from the smoke and ashy air seeping into the tunnel-like alley. She would reset the stone wall behind them once Galatea and any slaves she brought with her were over the threshold. No traffic meant no one to get in their way or cause delays.
“Ze fires will be strongest,” a cough erupted from her throat, “closer to ze mines. Ze wells and cisterns will not ‘ave enough water. If we can take advantage of the structural weaknesses of ze aqueducts and reservoirs left behind from ze storm, we’ll ‘ave a better chance of dousing ze flames.”
Sure, it would deplete their fresh water reserves, but the structures could be rebuilt and the water could be resupplied. If the city burned to the ground, they’d have no need for water reserves. So it was, in truth, an intelligent move.
Hopefully one that would limit the amount of reconstruction necessary for the city.
The horse brayed, whipping its head back and forth in rapid shudder. That's all the more protest it would offer, Yiannis knew. But protest it was. Blinders could only block one sense, after all. It knew all too well what he was driving them towards. Yiannis could only dig his heels deeper in response, pushing towards something every atom of its essence must scream against. Already, he could feel the rawness in his throat. The slight blur in his vision as his eyes tears. That with only the slightly sped breath that anticipation bred in him. He didn't care to imagine that sort of torture it required to throw one's self at full exertion down the avenue. But he thought of it anyway, eyeing the flames climbing towards the horizon, estimating what might be required of him.
Vangelis was just up ahead. A few strides further still, Zanon. Even before the two of them began to slow, it was clear what they intended. In the first place, the fire constrained their options. In the second, there was the unthinking surety that came from watching someone's habits for a lifetime. That settled, there were already two of them. Yiannis was unneeded. When they rounded the final corner, he broke off leftward. No more fighting his steed this way, either. His head sank low against the beast's neck. Close enough to hear the thrum of its pulse in carotids. Near enough that he might whisper back some reassurance as they careened through the city.
Then, finally, he was where he wanted to be. The flames behind him. In front, two shoddily built apartments, the one seeming likely to collapse across the other in a strong wind. The alley between them narrow enough at the base that his horse would hardly fit. Perfect. Straightening so that everyone could see him, Yiannis gave a whoop as he kicked the horse into a mad sprint. He was laughing too hard to see. The opportunity only lingered a few seconds longer anyway. Then he was crashing. A linen flapped over his face. A line of twine snapped against his torso, coiling around him as he kept driving forward. A chiton got wedged beneath the saddle. Wonderful.
Ideally, he might have been watching just then. But he couldn't spare a hand from the reins. Not just then. Inwardly, he was counting. Guessing the length of the beasts strides. Measuring out the length of an alley he'd blown by at full gallop. Reaching back further still, to a boyhood game of hide and seek. Waiting for exactly--now. Kotas took his weight off entirely, leaning forward as he rested on the stirrups and whispered just sharply enough to heard over the din of chaos. The two went airborne. Then came the wet, boisterous smack. Even when it settled, the stone dolphin kept a steady stream of water spitting at his forehead.
Yiannis was giggling again as they sloshed in the fountain. Now it was not so much showmanship as relief. This was going to work. He caught the linen in his teeth before it fell of his face entirely. Then, finally coming to a stop, he spared his hands to the wet rag like a mask over his nose and mouth. Drew in the first deep breath he'd dared since smoke tickled his nostrils. Slow, steady breaths. They didn't rake so heavy against his craw anymore. Eased just enough that the struggle to breathe didn't consume half his thoughts, and left space for real consideration. He did so now, surveying the area around him. The ruined clotheslines in along trail behind him, the public fountain where he stood ruined by a sooty horse and rider. Poseidon would have to forgive the fouling of his monument. The chitons and himations Yiannis had snagged hung heavy and damp, like the hair against his scalp. The worst of the fire was still blocks away. Black, heavy smoke billowing upwards as flames licked into paint, and open sewage, and half-used potions. Though it would only get worse, he now had proof of principal. But these rags would only stay wet a few minutes. And there were so many still trying to find their way out. How many were gagging? He needed to hurry.
Adopting a more regal poise, he called out to no one in particular, "Prepare more cloth in this fashion. Off your own backs if needed. Our brothers and sisters of the polis require the breath of life."
Then, as abruptly as he'd come, he thundered off again. Not waiting for anyone to follow his instructions. Because royals had no doubt around such matters. But also because he had no time. If he was to save anyone, he had to move faster than the wind that carried death to them. Vanngelis would build a perimeter to stop the fire. It was Yiannis's work to ensure people passed through it.
With barriers being set up at different levels of the city - one where Vangelis sat upon Windrunner at the very edge of the flames and another situated half way up through the lower levels that Yiannis would be supervising, Vangelis was confident the fire would not spread further than the areas it had already taken to consuming.
With narrowed eyes attempting to stare through the murk and smog, the crown prince noted less panic in his people. While footsteps were hurried and actions rapid as they attempted to claim important objects before running uphill towards the nearest stone structure, he could also see the paths they took to be more organised. They fell into the paths and journeys of their peers or organised holding damp clothes to their faces. While they attempted to evade the smoke and heat with speed, they were no longer controlled solely by fear. They were guided by the hope that the braver of his people were offering. People like his brothers, leading them with orders, or Nike commanding with instruction.
Expelling a sharp cough from his lungs, Vangelis was pleased to see the barrier Nike had begun come to fruition as flames licked at the buildings beside the empty space but were rarely able to jump. Several sparks however were doing their best to breach the gap.
"Douse the buildings!" Vangelis called, pointing towards an aqueduct opening just a little ways up the main street and to the east. While he could make out no faces a redhead and blonde woman seemed in place at its mouth.
Looking behind him and allowing Windrunner to skip a few steps forward, further away from the fires encroaching on his tail, Vangelis coughed again into a closed fist, noting the smoky texture and blackened charcoal of his hand.
"Commander Nike!" The prince called out, readdressing his concerns towards what was important, just as Yiannis and Zanon re-joined him, clearly complete in their tasks. Vangelis was thankful to see that his eldest younger brother at least wore some form of clothing now... He had, however, lost his horse along the way.
"Gather six able bodied!" He called to his Commander as Windrunner became frisky with fear. "Create a unit to help those trapped by flame." He looked to his brother still on horseback. "Yiannis and I will find and draw them out. Help them the rest of the way!"
And with a nudge of his head in a particular direction, indicating for Yiannis to work in mirror to himself, Vangelis kicked his steed into action.
Racing down the street to his left, the flames burning to his left and the safety of the manmade barriers to his right, Vangelis called and yelled to those who might still be alive, trapped somewhere within the buildings already aflame or stuck in a street's alcove, lost in the smoke.
By the time he returned to the main street, he had a small family of three - two children that sat before him on Windrunner and a young woman who ran beside the horse, plus two young men who had been stuck in an upper floor of a structure.
Upon reaching slightly more open air and his lungs thankful for the new freedom, Vangelis coughed before throwing out an arm towards Nike and her now small group of brave fighters. He helped the two children down.
"Go where the Commander tells you!" He told those he had pulled from the flames. The small family did just that but one of the two men decided to stay and help, joining Nike's little band.
"Where is Yiannis?" Vangelis then asked of Zanon. "Has he returned yet?"
The thick smoke choked her lungs, the acrid taste of it causing her to hack even as she directed at the people to continue to pull down the buildings, doing her best to predict the trail of the fire. The scorch of the flames licked at her skin, but she barely noticed the soot that was making her unrecognizable even to her own comrades, the dust which clogged up her breathing passageways, focused entirely on the task at hand.
At this moment however, Nike wished she had a steed at hand. The gelding she rode to war belonged to the Kotas family cavalry, and as such upon being home in Midas, Nike had no chance to care for or use said steed - the creature would usually be stabled up in the Kotas grounds. As such, the Commander was left to her own devices, using her own two feet to scurry this way and that to try and get as much done as possible, literally racing against time at this moment.
Hearing her name, Nike instinctively reacted to her general's voice as she always did, swinging around. Her chest heaved heavily as her ears picked up his instructions, and did not bother replying as she turned away to do as he said so. There was no need for Nike to reaffirm what she had just heard - they communicated as such in times of great need, and this definitely constituted one of those times. Looking around, Nike yelled for the nearest of men, her last glance led her to a dark-skinned male who seemed to be haphazardly helping anyone who needs assistance.
"Assist anyone who has managed to escape towards safe grounds, the temples or the docks, especially the injured or the old and young." She pointed at the burning buildings. "Listen for their cries - now is not a time to be distracted, focus! One by one will go a long way then trying to help five people at the same time."
The tone and actions in which Nike doled out her instructions left little for people to assume - it was obvious that Nike intended for the men she had gathered to move, and to move fast. They had little time to spare, and as they managed to contain the fire, the next immediate matter that required their attention would be for the people trapped to be led to safety. Watching as the men dispersed to where the thickest crowd of people were rushing around desperately looking for a place to go, she was just about to head to a further place - when the thunder of hooves she recognized too well paused her steps.
As she looked up, sure enough Windrunner came in her view. Upon Vangelis's words, the sooty figure of Nike ran up, grabbing the two children the prince was helping down. Passing one of the prone kids obviously weakened by the soot and smoke in their lungs to the woman, the Commander took one upon herself, instinctively balancing the child on her hips, before turning to the two men staying to help.
"Follow what the soldier instructs you to!" she yelled at them over the din of the chaos, motioning for the dark-skinned soldier she had instructed to help everyone else earlier. To the military male, Nike said, "I'll be back after I deliver them to safety - ensure everyone else gets out!"
With that, Nike jogged towards the temples with the women on her tail, the child on her hips as she headed to the temples.
It had been a very entertaining day so far, what with Vasilios visiting other nobles, setting up meetings, potential deals, and of course gathering information. Then the day wound down to him visiting the Drakos household. He was here for a few reasons. Once such being trading horses for some of the mining materials. Another reason he was there was that of a personal invitation from Tythra of Kotas. The reason behind this? It was actually unknown to Vasilios, at least until he had arrived. Once he had arrived at the location he knew instantly why. Tythra was arranging a meeting between Vasilios and her daughter; Imeeya of Drakos. Well, it wasn't just Tythra trying to set up this meeting, Vasilios himself was trying to find a woman above his current station to marry. He had his own goals he wanted to complete, as such he knew Imeeya of Drakos would be one of the best to marry due to not only the fact that she was linked to the Kotas; whom he was close friends with, but she also had no brothers. This meant she would be the needing a male to help her family continue its line. Vasilios was willing to take the name Drakos as his own to help them provide an heir should they accept him.
Now, Imeeya was a strong woman, very much worthy of any marriage. Yet her mother did not want her marrying anyone too highly ranked; or was that Imeeya's ideal? Whoever had decided that was wise because Imeeya herself was already within the Senate and had already inherited the barony. Thus if she married anyone of equal or even lower rank; in Vasilios' regard, she would have to likely drop her baroness title and possibly her seat. Currently, Vasilios was rather glad when his offer had been accepted for the meeting and from the moment he arrived, he knew that he was being watched and studied, not only by Tythra but also by the many servants there.
As the servants had escorted him to the meeting hall, Vasilios had taken in the halls details and every picture. It was obvious that the servants were treated well and even the slaves seemed to have a decent life. Good. Vasilios wouldn't want to be involved with someone who treated their slaves horribly. So with a smile, their meeting had begun. What seemed like was going good so far swiftly came to an end. Or rather an abrupt end. The noise of animals had ceased, which alerted Vasilios to danger. Then he heard a lot of commotion outside. Looking in the direction of the commotion, Vasilios sighed. "I hate to cut this short Baroness Imeeya, but I need to see what is going on."
The popular whirlwind about them contributed little to Galatea's focus; as Maeve went on, her eyes darted from one edge of the open portico to another, her ears attuned to the piercing screams, demands, cries, and prayers. Her resolve did not falter, however. Even as her slave pled that they leave the city, Galatea made her intent to remain here, and remain useful, clear, by slapping away her servant's hand from her shoulder and refocusing her attention on the woman before her. Mihail of Tanasi was of no consequence; a man seeking respite like the rest of the mortals, as human and vulnerable as she was. No jewel, no cry, no prayer would save any of them; a bucket of water was pathetic when considering what must be the sheer magnitude of the flames that engulfed the tunnels and mines.
My business is fucked already, the blonde thought, her chest tightening at the realization that the metals in the mines would be harder to reach, and that the fear such events would sow into the hearts of the populace would leave House Peisistratos without an able and willing work-force. But her eyes betrayed the fact that numbers were not through her worried mind, nor did she entertain the possibility of being able to return home. Her home. Her business. The fate of her fortune. Problems for another day.
Maeve could say what she wanted about Galatea's slaves. The truth was that Galatea could not recall a moment in her life without the presence of at least one other woman in her vicinity. As a child she dined in the presence of a trusted caretaker; she also became a learned woman because of the oversight of specially chosen, clever teachers. Galatea simply wasn't used to being alone, and neither were either of her nervous slaves, the youngest of which had been born into House Peisistratos. She had known no other life, no other mistress. This was an instance they could bond through, Galatea figured. After all, neither woman had been in this kind of situation. "Maeva, then," Galatea acknowledged with a nod before inclining her head towards her servant. "She has ears, you know." Not long after, both the Baroness and her servant followed Maeve through the soot-covered mass. The blonde raised part of the long skirts she had pinned to her belt up to her mouth, covering her nose and mouth as the air became thicker with smoke, and as her eyes grew watery from the dry, dusty heat they encountered the further they penetrated the crowded streets. Both Galatea and her slave heaved, their throats dry and itchy with dust. Though the alleyway they entered was spared of most of the bothersome particles, the ashes they carried within themselves made their presence known, ripping through their throats by way of merciless coughs.
Her dry throat continued to grip her as Maeve spoke, and though Galatea was unable to break words in her state, her wide eyes betrayed her skepticism. "The mines? Flood the mines? They're up the mountain, not below us... what are you talking about?" Galatea inquired between coughs, shaking her head. Water was a precious resource in these dry regions, and opening the aqueducts would not send the torrent up against the mountain, where the fires first broke and where Galatea imagined it was needed most. To release the supply could mean depriving those closet to the fire of the very tool they needed to combat it... "If you do that, no cistern, no humble well will have a drop of water. The people up there, they don't know what is happening here..." Galatea shook off her trust in this woman and told the slave to help move the stone once more. "This would be a slaughter. The people in the mountains will be defenseless... such a flood at the docks could kill the people there..." Galatea thought out loud as she shook her head, her eyes narrowing on the sliver of light that broke against the tunnel wall. Galatea lent her hands to the servant, quickening the process.
Once open, Galatea turned to the woman and warned: "Do this and many will die." Galatea did not know if being aware of the existence of a person such as Maeve was a blessing or a curse, but she hoped Athena would enlighten the strange woman in this critical moment, and that perhaps she'd arrive at the same conclusions Galatea had. There wasn't much more to say at that moment, and not much to do other than leave. It only took Galatea a few steps out into the open, rejoining the mad crowd.
The red-headed woman's words were still swarming inside Maximus' mind while he was grabbing a child who was trapped in the rubble. The little girl was covered in soot and tears, crying for her mother. As the people continued to pour water on to the flames Maximus looked around frantically for anyone who could take care of this child in his arms. "This child needs assistance!" He yelled. Just then, a woman ran towards Maximus willing to take the girl. "Get this little girl to the temples!" he ordered and the black-haired woman agreed to take the crying girl from Maximus' arms.
The little girl continued to scream for her mother while the woman headed for the Temples above. Maximus whispered a prayer to Aphrodite that the little girl would be reunited with her mother. His head feeling woozy, Maximus took a step back and looked around seeing men and women lying around with severe burn wounds. They were being attended by citizens who were definitely not medics but otherwise did what they could to help them. "I'm here," Maximus could hear one of the people say to a victim "It's going to be alright."
"And to be quite honest, you are wasting your time trying. The longer you stand here trying to convince me that I need your assistance, people who actually do may lose everything.” The woman he just saved earlier voice still echoed throughout his head.
Maximus closed his eyes and clenched his fists in frustration. That red-headed woman was right, he lost sight of the big picture. By trying to play hero to someone who didn't need his help he left those who really required assistance to their fate."I see that" Maximus said to himself. "We will meet again."
A man's voice snapped Maximus out of his thoughts. "Follow what the soldier instructs you too!" he yelled at them over the din of the chaos, motioning for the dark-skinned soldier she had instructed to help everyone else earlier. To the military male, the voice said, "I'll be back after I deliver them to safety - ensure everyone else gets out!"
Maximus shook his head in an effort to focus. He had his duty to fulfill. The soldier ran up to the man who was yelling and caught up with him. "Need some help?!" Maximus said through clenched teeth. "I have noticed that you had your hands full, may I assist?"
There was nothing quite like the feeling of holding Leni close to him. For some reason, it made Timaeus feel just as safe and secure as she must have been, tucked up in his strong arms. As he moved through the crowd towards the temple, he could feel her head bury itself in the crook of his neck and her fingers twist around the fabric of his shirt, clear signs that she was scared. In truth, he was too, but he knew that he had to be brave for her and he had faith in the temples. The stone structures would never burn.
As he moved through the crowds, he murmured soft intelligible words of comfort to the girl, hoping to have her see that there was nothing to fear while she was with him like this. He would never let anything bad happen to her. “Shhh… I got you... It’s alright... You’re safe Leni… You’re safe…]” He cooed in her ear, hoping that it would bring her some sense of security. “I promise.”
He kept his word. Delivering her safely to the temple, Timaeus wanted nothing more to turn all of his attention to her, to reassure her that she would be safe even though this was not the beaches. However, his body demanded his attention first. Focusing on his breath for a moment, he didn’t notice how her hands roamed his body, bringing him the comfort that she thought he needed at that moment. Well at least, he didn’t notice until he was almost melting under his touch. His already heaving breath hitched whenever her hands found a new patch of unexplored skin to raise goosebumps along as she ran her hand through his hair and along with his face. Her fingers were warm and brought a sharp contrast to the cold tingles raised from the goosebumps raised in her wake. Good gods, it felt so good… he almost didn’t want her to stop. Not when it relaxed him more than anything else he had ever experienced. It was just… so delightful.
But alas, his breath returned to its normal state and Timaeus straightened himself. “Thanks.” He said simply to her with a small, charming smile.
Ducking his head, Timaeus blushed at the affirmation of him being her rescuer…. again. He shook his head slightly as he jokingly said, his breath slowly returning to normal, “Aye, well that water was fairly deep if I do so recall.” It was a sly joke between the two of them as they both knew how shallow the water really was. She had never really been in any danger that day. Yet, it was still somewhat hilarious retelling the story of the girl adrift in chest-high water, convinced she was going to be lost at sea. Just like her, it was truly unforgettable.
As Leni’s smile begin to grow now that the immediate danger had passed, Timaeus also found himself relaxing bit by bit as she found her cheerful self again. The baron was so used to seeing her attitude light and airy that even just seeing her stressed was enough to keep his chest tight as well. However, she seemed to take some humor in his little quips. Not that they were any good, mind you. But at least getting to see her smile was enough to bring a slight bit of peace to his mind.
“Yes,” He said with a light chuckle in response to the statement that there would be other days out on the market, “Of course. After all, we still need to replace that dress.”
Things were beginning to seem okay, despite the fires that raged outside. However, the pair’s giddy, childish laughter was brought to a screeching halt as an older woman approached them revealing to the pair that it was likely the mine that caused the earth to shake earlier. Timaeus was about to question her and take on a matter-of-fact and let’s-fix-it attitude when Leni decided to swoop in instead to offer support and comfort. A small grin of appreciation crept onto his face. Ah, yes that’s what she would actually need at this moment. Tim couldn’t give that kind of support. Not in a million years.
As Leni moved away with the older woman, there was something about the way that she tended to her, her kind smile showing in her muddy brown eyes. Did he ever notice before how her alluring it was to see how her hair fell about her shoulders as she became a pillar of support for the heartbroken woman? How was she able to stand so strong when the world was collapsing around her? Even Timaeus could feel himself grow weak at the knees in that very moment. He wanted to collapse again as jolts of electricity flooded his veins, leaving small pangs in his stomach that made him want to collapse but only at her feet. He just couldn’t tear his eyes off of her, almost as if she were a goddess and he was just a worshipper, in awe of her glory. His arm clutched against his stomach in an attempt to keep himself upright. Good lord, he silently thought to himself, had the smoke gone to my head?
His mind was forcefully torn away when he felt a hand harshly smack against his shoulder blades as some unfamiliar palm grasped them. Timaeus tried to turn around to see who had the sheer audacity to touch him, a baron and a captain, in such a rough manner, but he was held in place as a gruff voice said close to his ear, “All able-bodied body men are being summoned to help put out the fire. Thank you for carrying that pretty little thing in here, now scram and go haul some water.”
The man was so close to him that Timaeus could feel little tiny flecks of the man’s spit hit the side of Tim’s cheek. He flinched and attempted to move his head away as a fire was lit in his eyes, though was it in response to the disrespect he was being shown or the callous way the stranger was referring to Leni. He didn’t know which was causing his blood to boil more.
He didn’t say a word while he was still facing Leni, biting down on his tongue to keep his cool and keep his secret from her. However, when the hands on his shoulder reached down to his arms as the man tried to turn Timaeus away, the baron whirred around on the spot, easily shaking the man off of him as he was the stronger of the two.
Taking in the sight of the man, it was easy to see why the man was acting in such a manner towards the Baron. It was a freaking power trip for him. Timaeus carefully took in the younger man’s appearance. Thin frame, ugly face, clean military uniform. He was youthful in his appearance, but Timaeus knew the military well enough and could tell instantly he was too old to be a new recruit. Nah, he had clearly been in his unit for a while, but judging by the fact that he was here collecting men meant that he was not very good at his job. Otherwise he’d be out there, helping with the effort. Timaeus could tell instantly what was going on. He was after a chance to show a stronger man who was “their better” just because he had a military uniform on and Timaeus didn’t.
Oh, he picked the wrong fight.
“Feisty little shit, eh, careful now.” He said as Tim glared at the soldier, letting his eyes be the only warning he’d receive before he let loose. Instinctively, his gaze broke for a moment to glance back at Leni and the other man noticed. He made that clear by saying with a sickening chuckle, “There’s no need to worry. Your little lovebird will be safe here, with me.” He said with a small smirk that sent a chill up Timaeus’s spine as the lower ranking soldier hungrily glanced Leni over. The baron’s expression darkened and his hands balled up into slight fists as he bit down hard on his tongue, trying to conceal the rage boiling deep within him. This was hardly the place to cause a scene, but gods be damned if Timaeus would let this boy get his grubby little paws anywhere near Leni.
“You will do no such thing.” The baron gravelly warned as he locked eyes with the boy, almost challenging him to fight him on the issue. The greenling was foolish enough to take Tim’s bait.
“And who are you to tell -” He started to say with a light chuckle. The noise died when he was interrupted with by the older man’s words;
“Timaeus of Valaoritis.” He deadpanned, taking a slight bit of joy as he watched the color drain from the boy’s face as his mistake dawned on him. He had clearly been looking for a fight or a chance to assert himself as the better in this temple, little did he know he chose the wrong man to rile up. “Captain of the Men of the Heights and Baron of Eubocris.” He finished slowly, his voice barely above a whisper so if Leni was looking on, she would not be able to hear. Timaeus didn’t want her finding out about his noble blood like this. Not here. Not now.
He made a point to look over the soldier’s outfit, noticing the lack of embellishments to signify high rank or significant accomplishments. Clearly, this lad had not impressed whoever his commanding officer was, but Tim knew the colors he was wearing. The maroon of Kotas was not an easy shade to mistake. “The Red Knights or The Creatures of the Deep?” He asked, naming the two units led by their Princes, “Doesn’t matter I suppose. I know them both. I’m sure the Kotas will be pleased to hear how respectful you were, Sir…” He trailed off at the end as the smirk grew, knowing he had the boy pinned in a corner.
“Callimachus…” The boy stammered back, his fear growing more apparent by the second. Probably one of Vangelis’s men then, Timaeus thought silently to himself, I’ve never known Zanon to make a man so nervous.
“What a mouthful. I’ll be sure to remember it.” He said confidently, knowing full well he’d probably struggle with the name later. This boy didn’t need to know that little tidbit though. Glancing back over his shoulder at the beautiful redhead, Timaeus realized that he could probably make some good use from the boy who was now practically shaking in his boots.
“If you value your freedom Callimachus,” He said, letting the implication of spending time in the Fylaki or even the mines linger in the air as Timaeus sought to secure his own interests, “You will do everything in your power to ensure that my lovebird,” Tim mockingly spat out, “Comes to no harm while she is here. Do you understand me?
“If this building is burning, you get her out. If someone bothers her, you drag them away. Her life is now paramount to your own and if so much as a single hair on her head is harmed --” He trailed off as he tried to swallow his rising anger. Timaeus bit his tongue again, letting his mouth fill with that metallic taste before finishing, “--I will hold you personally responsible.”
The boy nodded hurriedly in understanding, knowing full well that if any harm came to her, it could very well mean that his life would be forfeit if Timaeus was enraged enough. That could very well happen or it may not. Who knew with an enraged, unknowingly lovesick Baron?
“Now if you’ll excuse me, as you said all able-bodied men are needed.” He said, emphasizing the word man, letting one last insult sink in as he turned away from the soldier and walked over to the only person in that building he truly cared about.
He approached carefully, not wanting to spook the older woman who was currently sobbing into Leni’s shoulder, tugging at his otherwise hardened heartstrings. He couldn’t pull his eyes off of the way that the redhead tenderly cared for the woman in her hour of need. Empathy like that was an art he didn’t understand, but from the way Leni patiently let the woman grieve for a loved one she didn’t know if she had even lost. The amount of respect Tim had for the young woman grew along with the small knot forming in his stomach.
Leni’s eyes glanced up to meet his as he crouched down next to her, reaching out a hand to her back to give her a bit of emotional support. For a moment, the three of them, neither of them said a word, letting the crying woman have her moment. When her sobs began to subside, Timaeus quietly murmured to the redhead, “They’re summoning all the men to go fight the fire. I have to go.” He knew that Leni would not be pleased, that she would naturally fight against it, but his expression asked her not too. She didn’t understand. If he remained here, cowering in the temple, well the consequences would be immense for him. He had no choice.
The silence returned for a moment before Timaeus turned to the older woman and asked gently, “What does he look like?” The words carried the empty promise that Timaeus would look for the missing Cyril, which the woman clung too as she recounted details that were both too generic and specific to ever lead to Tim finding the missing lad. Although he nodded at her words, there was a twinge of sadness in his eyes as he secretly knew that if he had been in the mines and they were what was to blame for the collapse, there was little chance that her loved one would make it out.
Her words blurred in his mind as he took a side glance at the other girl and his heart suddenly skipped a beat when it finally struck him that once he left this temple, it was entirely possible that he may not come back. Time seemed to slow as it began to consume his mind. I could die today. I might die. The hand on Leni’s back began to tremble slightly, could she feel it? Timaeus was terrified of death. It already took his father and brother so he knew that it didn’t care for Timaeus. Hades would not think twice about stealing him away from the mortal world.
Dozens of faces flashed through his mind, considering who he might leave behind if the smoke became too much or the heat was too intense. His mother. Silanos. Roxana. And oddly enough… Leni. A small jolt through his stomach made him realize that he didn’t want to leave her behind. That she mattered to him more than he would care to admit.
“Please, you have to find him.” The old woman pleaded, forcing Timaeus’s thoughts back to the here and now.
“You have my word -- I will try my best.” Timaeus carefully said, lying right through his teeth. All he wanted to do was bring her a bit of comfort and it seemed to work as she expressed her gratitude to the Lord.
Uneasy with the lie he just told, Timaeus said quietly to her, “May the gods be good.” They were meant to be words of comfort, but they were just as empty as his previous comment. The Gods did not care for mortals like them.
As the woman relaxed a bit, Tim glanced at Leni and motioned for her to move away a bit with him. “Let’s give her some space.” He muttered quietly as he straightened himself up and moved away from the moment, fully expecting Leni to follow.
“I can’t stay for long, it won’t look good if I do, but I needed to say it in case... you know--” He said quietly, trailing off at the end as he glanced over at the redhead. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. They both knew what he meant. Yet, somehow he struggled to find the words he needed. Hanging his head a bit, his right hand reached up to rub at his neck, unsure of what to say as Timaeus’s stomach felt so jittery and he struggled to concentrate with Leni standing so close to him. He just couldn’t tear his eyes off of her. He could find himself being so easily lost in those dark brown eyes that seemed to ensnare him. He drunk in every detail of her face, afraid that this may be the last time he ever saw her. He shouldn’t feel this way, yet oddly he did. What on earth was happening?
“I’m so sorry for all the trouble I put you through. If we make it out of this… I just want you to know that I…” He choked on his words., somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer gravity of what was happening around them with the fire. “I…. I…I…”
His mind, confronted with the fact that he may end up dying, decided at that moment it wanted to protect itself. His thoughts went fuzzy as his throat felt as if something was caught in it. His stomach jumped and lurched, but in some sort of good way, only when he was looking into Leni’s eyes. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, skipping a beat or two, maybe even three. His thoughts couldn’t decide what to do. Push her away, protect itself from whatever spell she was putting on him, do his duty and move on. Or pull her close and never let go. He wanted to protect her. Keep her safe from the fires and not have to leave her under the not-so-watchful eye of some sleaze ball soldier. He liked having her close to him like this. He really, really liked it. But if anything, he wanted her closer.
Focus. Timaeus silently thought to himself, trying to reel his mind in, but it was useless. He was too far gone between the allure of her smile (oh god those lips) and the overhanging threat of the fire raging outside, something he would have to willingly run into.
So, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that he reached out for her as he did in the market when the earth started shaking. Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her close to him, eager to feel her warmth one last time. Closing his eyes, he took in the sensation of this moment, something he never knew he really needed. It felt so strange and so new, but yet familiar all the same -- probably because they were not strangers to this sense of intimacy even though they may have been in almost every other sense of the word.
Then without thinking, because Lord knew that he could no longer do that, he tilted his head down slightly so that his chin was just barely brushing the top her temple. Looking back later, he would try to convince himself that he only did it to look at her beautiful, stunning eyes.
But his lips had a different plan.
Carefully, almost hesitantly, his head ducked down just a bit lower and with the utmost care, almost as if she were a tiny delicate flower in an open moor and he was a lumbering beast, afraid of trampling her; his lips brushed her warm, tantalizing skin. His eyes slipped shut as he reached for the one thing that he didn’t realize would keep him going once he left the safety of the temple to answer the call of the city he called home. Even if she pushed him away, it would be enough to give him the strength to push away the fear and keep going. He already knew it.
And to think it was only a simple kiss to her temple.
NEW EDIT
The sounds of the fires outside snapped him out of it. Opening his eyes and pulling away quickly, a slow startled look crossed his face as he realized what he had done. “Sorry.” He said quietly as he stepped back, afraid that he had overstepped a boundary. He didn't even really understand if he truly liked her or not, so why was he doing that? She had not given him any indictation that she felt the same way about him, however he felt. It was all confusing mess of emotions that he couldn't make sense of, not when there was such an obvious looming threat against him. That was probably what spurred him to do such a thing anyways. The baron was so afraid that he wasn't going to come back that even the promise of chance of finding safety in her once he returned... he must have thought that it would have been enough to push him through the dangers he would face in just a few moments. He hoped it would be. He could already tell that he was going to need it. Then without looking back to see how she reacted, Tim moved to the doors at a pace just slightly too fast for a man who was afraid that he would never come back.
Once Timaeus left the safety of the temple, he wasn’t sure where to go as he watched other men move around, trying desperately to save their city. Naturally, Timaeus would try to take a leadership position, rally men to his cause. He had been a Captain for nearly ten years and a baron for two. That was just second nature to him. But none of the men out here was from his unit and since he was dressed in more informal attire, he was doubtful that he could garner anyone’s attention in such a dire situation. He already knew he would be wasting his breath if he tried. So, Timaeus did what he could. Whenever an extra set of hands were needed, he was there. It was all he could do to swallow his lingering fear was this and try his hardest to ignore the sight of the world burning around him.
The flames licked the roof of one such building. Glancing in the doorway, thrown open in someone’s mad rush for safety, Timaeus could see that the interior of the shop had also burst into flames. In between the fire’s curls, he could see smoldering bolts of fabric and a loom somewhere deep in the shop. The smoke that billowed out of the burning building was choking, forcing Timaeus to cover his mouth in order to just stare at the scene as he heard the cries of someone deep inside, forcing him to stop for a moment to see if anything could be done. But he knew there was nothing he could do. The smoke was too thick, the heat too intense. No one, but the gods could save that poor soul now.
This also wasn’t a snap judgment that Timaeus made, he knew there was no hope for whoever was deep inside that shop because right across the entryway, staring at the young baron with eyes seeing nothing was a young man. His chiton was alight from fallen thatch from the roof, but he didn’t react as Hades already claimed him as one of his own. No, he would have been desperately trying to beat out the flames that were now charring his caramel colored skin and slowly crawling up to his equally shaded hair, long and clean. It was clearly a source of pride for the boy before he was cruelly struck down. The Baron stared, expression blank and taking in every feature of the poor lad, his mind racing with only one line of thought, “That could have been us. That could have been Leni. That could have been me.”
He muttered a silent prayer up to the gods, in thanks for sparing him and Leni thus far, but even as he said it, he knew very well it could be an empty thanks.
As long as the fires raged, no one was out of the woods just yet.
He lingered just long enough for the screams to die away in the roar of the fire, so someone would be a witness to that poor soul’s death. Only then was he able to tear himself away, making himself a promise that when the flames settle, he would be sure to send the needed coins to send both those two and countless other victims of today’s disaster the payment they needed to cross the Styx. That was the least he could do. If he couldn’t help them in life, he could certainly arrange for a peaceful afterlife.
Moving on from the burning fabric shop, Timaeus went from structure to structure, doing whatever he could to assist. Lifting fallen beams, guiding people away from the smoke, passing along buckets of water. It was all a blur as Timaeus jumped from one thing to the next. He only really became aware of what he was doing when he heard Vangelis’s voice somewhere nearby, but he couldn’t make out the words because of the sheer amount of noise. Glancing around, he searched for the prince and although he didn’t see the Kotas Prince, there was another face that Timaeus recognized running about, causing him to crack a small grin in contrast to all the carnage occurring around them.
“Commander Nike!” Timaeus called out as he hurried over to the military man, grateful to see that his old friend was unharmed so far. However, the smile was short-lived when he noticed the child in his arms and the woman following shortly after, also burdened with the weight of another little one. Needing no explanation as to what was happening, Timaeus motioned for the child on Nike’s hip as he briskly said with the natural commanding tone he had developed over his years as a Baron, “Give them to me. You’re needed out here.”
Timaeus must have been a bit of a shock for Nike, figuring how long it had been since the two of them had last seen each other. (Nevermind his ragged appearance takes to the torn cloth and soot covering him.) Eight years was clearly a long time and so much had changed for Timaeus in that time. He was now a Baron, something that little sixteen-year-old, eager to prove something to the world, never would have imagined him doing. Fate had a funny way of working like that. That was certainly a lesson that the people of Midas would be learning today.
With little words, the Commander handed over the child, who Timaeus quickly scooped up into a protective embrace, turning them so their face would be buried in his shoulder. They would most likely find it uncomfortable, but at least he knew that their little lungs would be spared the worst of the smoke and soot. Once Timaeus knew that his newest charge was secure, he turned back to Nike again and said simply, “Hera's Temple. If you need to find them.” With that, he turned on his heels and headed in the direction of the stone temple where he had left the last person who had clung to him as tightly as the child did. He didn't run as he did before, lest he'd lose the other woman in the crowd, but his pace was hurried nevertheless. He could feel the child sobbing from sheer terror onto his shoulder, into the crook of his neck. Instinctively, he reached up to support the child's head while murmuring soothing, nonsensical words of comfort to them. As if their home wasn't on fire and they were being carried by an utter stranger to an unknown place.
In no time at all, the young baron crossed the threshold to Hera's temple and gently set the child down. They immediately ran to the other woman who had kept pace with the soldier. As they clung to her skirts, Timaeus took a moment to glance around for the familiar redhead, but she must have been deeper into the temple. Not seeing her brought a small sense of panic into him, but he knew he didn't have the time to search for her. This family had only been one of the countless others who would need help that evening. Timaeus bit his inner cheek in worry before turning back to the woman to give her some advice for taking shelter in the temple. With a quick nod from her, Timaeus took off again.
There was still work to be done.
Unburdened by the weight of others, Timaeus ran back to the commander and was about to inquire as to where he would be of the most use. Before he could, however, Tim was cut short by the arrival of another, darker, soldier going on about trapped children. His previous question died on his lips as he turned to the other man and said roughly with his eyes so wide they seemed to nearly bug out of his head, “And you left them to burn!?!” His tone was incredulous, showing his clear disbelief in how so easily someone could walk away from a situation where help could be given… even if it was to find more hands to complete the task. It only took minutes for a person to succumb to the fire and the smoke. These children would have less time than that.
“Take us to them.” Timaeus commanded the lower ranking soldier. His anger and stress over the situation only aided the power behind his voice. However, it didn't seem to be quick enough for the baron, especially as he felt the seconds tick painfully by. Seconds these kids may not have. “NOW!” He bellowed, urging the soldier to move faster to wherever these trapped children were.
Imeeya was busy supervising the cooking of lunch, when her mother, Tythra walked in. This surprised Imeeya because as far as she knew, Tythra had had a meeting this morning. ”Gaiana!” Tythra addressed to the head cook, “Make sure there is enough for an extra guest.” Imeeya shot a curious glance at her mother. at this order. They hadn’t been expecting any company for lunch. Tythra met her daughter’s eye. “Imeeya, come with me.” Imeeya followed after her mother. The fact that her mother was being so tight-lipped was making her nervous.
Finally, the two of them reached Tythra’s office. Tythra closed the door behind them and gestured for Imeeya to sit down. Imeeya was beginning to worry that somehow she had managed to get herself in trouble with her mother again. So she was surprised when Tythra’s expression widened into an amused smirk. “Imeeya, I brought you here because there is someone who I would like for you to meet.” Imeeya felt her stomach drop, her mother was up to something and given their recent conversations, it could only be one thing: marriage. “Lord Vasilios of Vlahakis has expressed interest in courting you, and I have decided to let him stay for lunch.”
Lord Vasilios, the man she had met at the night market and cousin to Lord Lazaros. That was a surprise to her. Something in her expression must have given away her recognition of the name, as Tythra responded ”You know him?”
”We were introduced when the market was open all night,” Imeeya admitted to her mother, careful not to give away any of her impression to her mother in case it might be used to persuade her to give him a chance.
”Well, then I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about. Now go change, you’ll want to make a good impression on our guest. Tythra commanded Imeeya. Imeeya knew better than to argue with her mother, but the last thing that she wanted to do was to make herself presentable for a potential suitor. Still, she knew that she would be in trouble with her mother as she disobeyed.
Imeeya quickly changed into one of the plainer of her nice silk chitons, it was a light blue that she had always thought complimented her eyes nicely. As she entered the dining room, her eyes fell on the man that she had met a few days ago. He smiled at her as she entered, but they had barely had the chance to greet each other before the atmosphere suddenly changed. Imeeya could hear the commotion going on outside. Barely hearing Vasilios’s apologies, Imeeya headed straight for the door, as Vasilios followed along behind her. As she reached the door, she stood, looking down on the chaos of the city below her. Plumes of fire were descending upon the city. She knew that she had to do something to help. Imeeya turned to Vasilios behind her. “Come on! We need to do something to help,” she urged Vasilios, before striding out into the streets in the direction of the fires.
Yiannis stumbled to a halt. Just as he was seizing up his momentum, the younger boy came flying around the corner. Now he should like to run. Plowed full force into the back of the prince's knee. He caught himself with his hands. Just enough to keep from tumbling into the gaping hole that had opened in the floor in front of them. Smoke was already spiraling up through it again. Curses. It seemed they wouldn't be getting out that way after all.
Turning back the way they came, Yiannis scooped up the boy and re-entered the bedroom. Still nothing burning here. But it was uncommonly warm. There was a single window here, but unlike at the other end of the house, this one wasn't close to an adjoining building. It opened out into a wide boulevard. One too far down for any sane person to attempt the jump. The thatched roof wasn't worth the risk, either. A literal tinderbox. There were enough live embers caught in his clothes now to set the whole thing ablaze.
What did that leave him? Slave quarters. Curses. There were two piles of hay on the floor. Mats at one time, and fuel for the fire now. No hope of nearby running water that might protect them. Even less chance of a secret door or some balcony leading out to the atrium. Only the most utilitarian of adornments. The shoddiest construction, the flimsiest floors and draftiest walls. A massive, ugly potter's wheel someone had tried to cram in the corner of the room, but nonetheless seemed dominate the better part of the space. The smoke smell grew stronger.
Think. The boy was pressed against his chest. No doubt he could feel the hammering in Kotas's heart. Just like Yiannis felt the boys breaths grow more shallow with panic. Each time drawing in more of the miasma that would ruin them both. The floor groaned. Yiannis charged. A few long, urgent strides before he launched himself. Spinning in mid-air, he crashed back-first into the potter's wheel. Kicking up the huge puddle of muddy water. Using the combined weight of himself and the boy as missle against floorbearms that were compromised even before the flames began eating them to ash. Against the crack of ceramics, there was a one hopeful, bass note: snapping wood. Even as he smashed to a hault, the wheel picked up his momentum, tearing through the floor and then wall, a whole section of the house giving way.
Yiannis wrapped himself instinctively, protectively around the boy. Rolled out onto the street in a mix of soot and clay. Alive. By the gods, alive somehow. He forced himself to his feet. Minutes later, he was finishing a lop-sided, limping jog back towards the main party when he heard Vangelis call his name. In response, he balled up the last of the wet linen he'd fetched earlier, and curled it into a ball. Let it fly towards his Vangelis's head.
"Ho!" he called, just as he had the the thick, wet plop of the cloth's impact.
"Better on that than in you, brother." he explained, pointing at the soot stained rag drapped over his own mouth and nose. "But what now?"
Thea had spent her evening rounding up the servants around the Thanasi household to begin the planning and preparation for the banquet welcoming Nethis back from Taengea. Her eldest sister had been away on a business trip for quite some time but her return date had been set for the end of this month via a personal missive. Between composing a menu consisting of everyone's favorite food and briefing their house crew and arranging new decoration both in and outside of the mansion, the morning had proved to be quite taxing on her physique. The second daughter would have pushed for more until a persistent migraine crept up her neck and started spreading up the base of her skull. An increasingly intense throbbing sensation overwhelmed Thea, her slender fingers rubbing at her temples provided little ease to the growing discomfort.
"Lady Thea!, the startling call barely pierced through the ringing in her ears before Thea realized that she had stumbled on her on feet backwards. The maids near the dark-haired maiden yelped out, mouths gaping and feet scurrying to get to her in time. Luckily, a pair of strong hands caught her buckling frame in time to shield her from physically collapsing onto the tiled floor of the Thanasi mansion. "Lady Thea, that is enough for today.. Her dull golden eyes met Ophion's firm ones. Thea furrowed her brows as she disentangled herself from his embrace and quickly got back to a standing position.
Her demeanor leveled as the surface of water during the chilling winter, Thea uttered. "I'm fine." However, white spots danced in her vision again. Closing her eyes for a moment to steady herself, Thea silently cursed her seasonal sickness. Maybe her bodyguard was not baseless, some rest would not hurt anyone. Smoothing her fingertips over the list of tasks she had meticulously detailed, Thea gestured for the appointed butler to take it from her. "Do as the list instructs.", she gave the gray-haired man a stern look before turning on her heels to head for her personal chamber.
Thea's lingered her hands on the mahogany oak doors. Suddenly, callous tanned digits reached past her shoulders, wrapped themselves around the metal handle and pulled them open in one swift motion. Not even looking back, she instinctively recognised the steady presence behind her. Quietly sighing at Ophion's overattentiveness, she just put out a terse order at him. "Watch my doors. Alert me if anything requires my attention." She stepped foot into the vast space of her bedroom, the creaking echoing on her back as the entrance to her resting nest closed shut. Wary legs shortened the gap between Thea and the king-sized bed, her tense back hitting the luxurious silk linens draping over the mattress. Long curvy lashes then fluttered and off to a blissful nothingness she went.
-----------Time Skip-----------
"FIRE! FIRE! Those were the words she woke up to. Thea's brows knitted together, the girl struggled to open her heavy eyelids. At that moment, her groggy mind was still too foggy to process the hectic commotion sounding outside. But with a loud crash, the sleeping beauty was jolted awake. In front of her, breathless and frantic, was the same person she explicitly told to not disturb her if not need be. Thinly-veiled vexation shown on her miffed expression, Thea squinted. "Ophion...
Uncharacteristically of his obedient self, the male bit back. "The city is up in flames, Thea." Even though she was still exhausted out of her wits, the ladyship in question slowly sat up and gathered her cloak at the end of the mattress. If there were something that showed urgency, it would be Ophion addressing her by her name void of any appropriate title. Before she could react, he then rushed to her bed. "We need to evacuate now."
Being the indignant woman she was, before Ophion could attempt to physically grab her, Thea flatly commented while staring up at her companion and raising a hand up in a grouchy manner. "I have functional legs." Ophion let out a defeated sigh and stepped down, knowing full well that it was better to comply. Thea comtemplatively fixed her peplos dress, then wandered over to her closet and picked out an empty satchel. With a laxed manner unbefitting of her circumstances, she slugged said empty satchel on her shoulders before draping the velvet cloak she previously grabbed over her back and slipping into her sandals. "Where's everyone?, she calmly asked while bending down to rummage through the odds and trinkets at the bottom.
"Lord Mihail and Dysius are not on the premise as we are speaking." Ophion answered, his eyes scanning the room to check for anything of value that might be worth salvaging. "Most of the temporarily hired help have fled as soon as the bad news hit, and I have had the long-term servants tie up loose ends before I woke you up.", he continued as he looked around and collected the coin purse spotted laying on the vanity. Thea tossed a mini chest she just fished out into the open bag around her hips and collected a few small ceramic bottles with some clean cloth and gauges from the ground of the walk-in closet. She placed all of them inside the satchel then headed into the living area. Her bodyguard followed her suit, handing her the coin purse, which Thea quickly tied onto her braided belt.
The duo then exited the Thanasi mansion. "I heard vanguards are barracading the lower levels of the city to stop the fire from spreading. Maybe we should head to one of the temples, people are prone to gather there for shelter. Help from the palace will surely secure those places.", Ophion informed Thea as they navigated the chaotic streets of Midas. Screams and shouts echoed from all directions around them to an almost deafening extent. In the distance, the sounds of flames licking onto the infrastructures of the damaged areas and crackling as the materials got scorched to a crisp were evident. Footsteps thundered on stone pavements as people strewn the roads, scampering to safety while calling out to one another to do the same. Brick walls crashed, trees collapsed over. Guttural cries of cattles being left behind to die rang in the air, accompanying them was a sickening smell of burned flesh. Smoke towered into gloomy gray columns in the far horizon, their suffocating slow choke spreading in the air.
"The temple of Apollo is a few streets ahead.", Thea remarked. Several minutes went by as the two of them walked briskly in silent, their eyes fixated on their surroundings as a safety precaution. Amidst the crumbles and chaos, the second Thanasi daughter's mind raced. Where were her siblings at this very moment? Were they unharmed, and if they were, could they reach help in time? Ophion's words once again interrupted her trance. "The temple is a right from the Drakos mansion, isn't it?" His words caused her to blink and reassess their location. They were indeed a dozen feed away from said house. It was a distance, but near enough for them to witness what happened next.
From the doors of the Drakos household, a certain man bolted out, his face painted with dutiful worry. "Is that captain Vasilios?", her male companion wondered aloud. It was indeed Vasilios. What business did he have at this place? Surely the Drakos and Kotas had ties, but his family mainly answered to the latter. And then it clicked. The head of the household, Tythra, must have invited him here for to possibly strike up an alliance of some sort. After all, it was something the old hag was known for. But what could the Drakos and the Vlahakis be up to?
Before Thea could finish her thought, though, the answer to her question came jogging out of the same house, not even a minute after, in the form of one Imeeya of Drakos. Startled by the sudden appearance of the girl, the Thanasi femal pulled Ophion into a corner to conceal themselves, luckily just in time to not be seen. Now, Thea was aware that the daughter of Drakos was active within the court of Colchis. But it was also common knowledge that her mother was the head of the herd, directing everything going on under that roof. For as long as Thea had known the blonde, she had a tendency to seek independence from Tythra as much as she could to establish herself as someone with more substance than semblance. To have Imeeya exit right after Vasilios was too huge of a coincidence to overlook. Imeeya must have been sitting in on the hypothetical meeting with Vasilios, very highly likely under her mother's instruction, because the matter they were dealing with concerned her somehow.
As Thea kept herself hidden behind the brick wall, Ophion sneaked a peek at the subject from whom they were hiding from. Contrary to the thoughtful woman next to him who was engrossed in musing and calculating, the brunette was a rather simple man. Naturally, the childlike guard just blurted out the first thing he observed in a hushed tone. "That is a very pretty dress." Thea arched an eyebrow at his comment. The chiton itself was fairly fetching, which was a step up from Imeeya's usual quaint and plain wardrobe. And it was definitely a fancy attire to be adorned within the confinements of one's own home. So she was trying to make an impression? For what? Courtship was the first thing to pop into Thea's mind. Words had been circulating around the court that Tythra was seeking suitors for her daughter. But Vasilios, a man whose societal standing and power status were all technically underneath Imeeya? That... made perfect sense, actually. Imeeya was never one for using men to get a leg up on her competition anyway. And if she married well, as in wedding someone who was above her in the aforementioned criteria, that would equate to giving up her baroness title. Tythra and Imeeya were too damn smart for that.
Thea would probably have not snapped out of her trance had it not been for the thunderous sound of a tree colliding with the ground about a block or two away from where she was standing. Flinching, she then looked up when she felt Ophion impatiently tug at her cloak. "Thea, the fires are catching up. We shoud get going." Soberly nodding at him, the dark-haired nymph cocked her head to the side and pulled her cloak up to cover her face. "Let's go this way. Put your hood on." Even though it would be a few minutes longer to take that route, she would rather not be spotted by the Drakos. For now, Thea retreated. But not before she made a mental note about the knowledge she had acquired today.
Philippos was dispatched to the fight in the North with the King for what seemed like a year, but it had only been four months. He would have liked to be back in Midas enjoying the opening of the new ports since picking up the storm, however that wasn’t in the cards. At this point, he just proceeded where he was told to go and rarely counted the days til they would be back to Midas. In fact, that was the number one way to make a soldier depressed. There was hope to be heading back in three days, which turns into five, and compounds into ten. The morale would be buried beneath a blanket of doubt. Philippos just remained oblivious to the timing until it was verified from Vangelis or the King that it was time to return to home. Return to family, for most.
It was by some blessing that the group of soldiers were returning from the fight at this very moment. Extra people could make a difference in the level of devastation from the inferno. They were on the last leg of their journey when the smoke could be seen painting the horizon. Philippos saw the black billows that could only mean one thing. It was the telltale sign there was fire. A big fire. He gave his horse a kick to get moving and a command for those who were with them. ”I think it’s best we hurry, gents.” His words holding a serious tone, one he only reserved for the most somber of moments. This was up there. It was obvious by the direction of the smoke that their destination was in ruins.
What would cause such disaster… His mind wandered as he kicked and lurched forward again. His hands tangling the reins into the horses mane to be sure he had a good grasp pushing the limits of his honey hued mare. She snorted and grunted into the trail, but made no more rebuttal than that as they tore down the road towards Midas. The investigation of how it was started was only lost on him because they hadn’t been there for the shake of the earth from the mine. He could only wonder if there were enemies of Kotas wreaking havoc in the city. It was for another conversation.
The black tinge to the sky seemed spread so quickly, even while they were breaking down the trail as quickly as they could manage. It never felt quick enough. Lives were being lost in each and every moment. The sounds of the screams of those burning echoed in his memory. Fire was all too often a tool of war and it was one of the worst. The sounds of the choking on the black soot with nothing to do besides encourage them to breath. Mentally, Philippos was preparing for this, but he didn’t know how to tell some of the young soldiers that surrounded him what they might see or what their tasks would be on arrival. Not yet.
The road went from barren to filled with the sobs of those who were evacuating the city. It wasn’t everyone, some must have found refuge elsewhere. But, it was enough to slow the horses and skid to a stop. His horse maneuvered through the dashing people without instruction while Philippos called out to a man pulling off a roof from a building. ”Have you seen the Prince? Or any of the guard?” The man coughed into a cloth before gesturing in the direction the brothers had congregated.
Philippos imitated the gesture and heeled the horse. The air was thick and hot. Fire was the worst imaginable torment the commander could think of. He already felt the itch of his layers of clothes when the sweat started to stick to the cloth. A little shudder passed over him as he hurried some as he came up to the Princes with a skid stop. Always the show off, even in moments of panic. ”Where do you need more help, General?” He gave a head throw to acknowledge the soldiers that were with him. But, altogether seemed a little redundant as Yiannis asked as well. Philippos also was the first to volunteer to help with what he could, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to do. This was his duty.
Honestly, why did Mihail ever attempt to help others?
Here he was, a gallant gentleman on horseback, offering his aid to two young ladies who were caught in a fire of all things, a far more courageous move than was ever likely to be seen from the young Thanasi again, and yet he was being rejected. Who was possibly in greater need of his aid than those who were at risk of being consumed by the flames? Those who had already succumbed to the fire were not worth attempting to save, did she not understand that? All those gallant men and soldiers rushing through the city trying to save those who were hopeless or perishing...there was no use in that. Mihail was not the stupid one here.
But 'twas not the time to say such things and, instead of answering the woman to inform her of how stupid he considered her idea, he allowed Evras to handle the situation. His sister had always been able to maintain a level head, even in such a heated situation - pun intended - and he trusted her to handle the woman. Her instructions were simple, her motherly nature shining through, and Mihail nodded as though in acknowledgement, almost making it appear as though he had had a part in coming up with the directions. Sometimes you just had to take credit where none was due if you wanted recognition. "Stay safe," he agreed, an almost pathetic addition to his sister's words but something at least.
And now all of a sudden Evras was given him instructions and Mihail found himself pulling the horse away from where they stood and in the direction of the Upper Levels. Others were handling the fire - such showoffs those men were, rushing about attempting to help people they did not even know, Mihail would have hated to be like them - so he urged the stallion forwards and through the available gaps, no thought on his mind at present but to get the pair of them out of any foreseeable danger. He would not lie: his desire to escape was almost purely selfish, more interested in saving himself quickly and efficiently than any alternative which required stopping to consider others.
It was only lucky that they were not too far from the Upper Levels because it did not take too long before they were a reasonable distance from home, and Mihail was able to slow the horse's gait. "Here, Ev. It's going to be fine. Find Dion."
The smoke and smog of the flames continued to coat the city.
This was the true risk to fires within the capitol. The smoke. Not the flames. Fire could be handled. It was a simple issue of stay away from it and you wouldn't be hurt. You just have to make sure to stay away from its licking tendrils and not expose flesh or fabric to its teeth and, generally, you were okay. Vangelis watched the people running with almost a frustration, trying to tell them that running was the worst thing to be done. For the flames weren't the danger. The lack of air was. And running only caused you to breath deeper and harder, sucking the smoke from the fires down into your chest and belly. It was what caused you to cough, what made it hard to breathe. And breathing was more necessary than ensuring your skin didn't burn. It would kill you a whole lot slower.
Not that he could tell his people that, when they ran around him and his horse like ants scurrying away from danger.
At least they were doing it with more order now. The enter effort against the fires was one of more order now.
From his vantage point at the bottom of the city and above his steed, Vangelis could see the paths that were being taken, the plans that were being enacted.
His brother Silas had done his job phenomenally. Always an overachiever, Silas had been given the responsibility of dousing the thatched roofs of the buildings along the wall of the Upper Levels. From Vang's perspective he could see a dark band of damp building running the length of the wall, where wood had been saturated with the water from the wells in the upper sections of the city.
Further down his brother Yiannis had set about ensuring the men pulled down the rooftops - creating a barrier that would hopefully only allow a few sparks to breech further up the structures of Midas that would, even then, only land on doused and soaking thatch.
Further into the bottom rungs of the city, where the flames were still raging, more barriers were being constructed by the destruction of property. Nike had handled most of the buildings to the west and Vangelis had ordered men to the East... in only a short while they had created a second barrier against the destructive power of Hephaestus' flames.
Now, as he had been doing for the last fifteen minutes, there was little that could be done besides rescuing the people of Midas. The city had been built as it had with good reason and the barriers they had made were all that could be done in the time they had.
It was time to abandon the city to its fate and hope that they had done enough. No houses were worth further risking the lives and health of fellow Colchians.
Having run the length of one edge of the flames and Yiannis having rescued a small boy from the other, it was time to take their efforts further north, with their backs to the danger and sweep the city of its occupants as much as they could. Those who were trapped the other side of the flames? They were either dead or had to move themselves down to the harbour. It was likely most would do the latter. Colchians were a stoic and prepared people. They knew what to do when danger struck.
It was at that moment, when Vangelis was lamenting his lack of numbers to do an effective sweep that - like magic - his second in command within the Red Knights decided to appear, as if from thin air.
Distracted by the man's approach, Vangelis almost missed the damp rag that his brother tossed his way. Snagging it as it hit him in the chest, he moved it quickly to his mouth, breathing deep. The air that he sucked through it was damp and cloying and made his chest constrict... but it was better than choking on the black smog that the fires produced all around him. He noted that his hands and arms were already covered in soot and ash. He was practically black from head to toe.
Taking his breathing aid away from his face to answer Philipos after his show-y entrance (the man never changed), Vangelis flung an arm out to one side and then ran it out to the other.
"We need a sweep!" He told the officer, before coughing into the rag again. "Get the men into position along the streets! We help anyone trapped, encourage everyone to head up!"
Vangelis felt the heat growing hotter at his back as the flames encroached up the street behind him.
"Everyone is to be told to go to the Halls of the Gods! They'll find aid there! Leave all belongings!"
Turning his gaze to his brother, Vangelis gave his next instructions to Yiannis. Philipos and his men could handle rescuing the townsfolk. They had only just arrived and hadn't been breathing toxic fumes as long as the rest of them. Plus, he wanted to know his brother was safe. Especially when he had no idea where Zanon was.
"Yiannis! Go to the temple! Get Silas on your way - we need water sent there! Direct the water Silas has up by the Upper Levels to the temples!"
Coughing into the rag again, Vangelis joined Philipos as he organised the men into an appropriate formation that could then hurry up the streets and alleys of the city like a spider web of soldiers, all heading for the Upper Levels and the safety of the temples.
"How is it..." Vangelis said between clearing his throat against the heat. "Whenever there's a disaster - you're in the middle of it." His words were joking and to Philipos that would be a sure sign of Vangelis' concern. The crown prince only spoke with humour or emotional honesty when he was concerned people wouldn't live to hear him say it again...
He could barely hear his brother’s orders over the chaos surrounding them. People were dashing everywhere, screaming and crying in fear as the heat of the flames burned up around them, and Zanon found himself lost in the confusion for a moment before he pushed his way through to Vangelis’ side, gripping his elder brother’s upper arm to keep himself close by. Shaking his head until he turned about, Zan nodded to Yiannis as the order was given for the younger brother to find the youngest still. A frown crossed his face as he caught the humor in Vang’s voice and he tightened his grip as he coughed through the smoke himself.
If nothing else, at least he knew his son and wife were safe. Mihail wasn’t so much of a coward that he would abandon his own sister, and so long as they held on his mount could carry them safely home. Dion was safe with his grandmother, unless a horrible wind from Boreas blew in again there would be little risk of the flames reaching the Kotas palati. He could focus on the city and people of Midas that looked to the princes for guidance and assistance. A half smile crossed his lips as he recognized Philippos through the smoke and gestured around them.
”At least the weather’s nice for it. Though I could do with some rain.”
Turning to his eldest brother, Zanon released his grip and leveled the older man with a more serious gaze. Given the state of things around them he didn’t know how much longer they would last down here, and even having lived in the mines for a month in his youth as all Kotas men did, the air had never felt so thick and heavy and dangerous. It would be time soon to make the call whether or not to abandon those left behind still and how much further they could press. With all four princes in the city, Vangelis was most important to the crown. He’d said it aloud only once in a joking tone, but it was full truth the thought that followed next. He would rather die himself than have any harm come to his brother and have to step into his place instead. There was no desire in him to ever become king, or inflict it upon his son, this was what Vang had been training his entire life for.
As Imeeya strode determinedly down towards the lower levels of the city, where the fires were burning, she brushed past several people who were escaping the fires to the higher levels of the city. The soot clung to their clothes, hair, and faces. Instead of deterring Imeeya, this made her all the more determined to go and help those people that she could, and her footsteps sped up.
“Lady Imeeya!” Vasilios called after her, trying to keep up as she pushed through the people heading in the other direction. “You should be careful.” But Imeeya had no desire to wait for that man. She didn’t even look back to see if he was following her. As she descended into the smoke-filled streets, Imeeya pulled the neck of the chiton up around her face, trying to keep herself from inhaling too much smoke. She looked around through the hazy streets, trying to find a sign of something she could do to help. As she went lower into the city, more burning buildings began to surround her. Still, she didn’t look back, even to see if her way back to the upper city was clear. She had a job to do.
Through the smoke, Imeeya spotted people up ahead talking in raised voices over the crackling of the fire. Imeeya hurried up beside them just in time to hear the dark soldier informing the other soldier about the presence of children trapped in a burning building. That sounded like something she could be helpful with. The urgency with which the other soldier responded, almost made Imeeya hesitant to step up and address him, however, she also knew that something that required such swift action wouldn’t give them time to argue that she shouldn’t be there.
“I will go with you.” Imeeya said, hurrying over to the two men. ”I’m sure you could use another set of hands, and woman or not, you’ll find that I do have hands.” Imeeya only let the conversation pause for a breath before she continued. ”Finding these children is surely more important than any objections that you might have to me assisting.” Imeeya would have taken off towards the children at that moment if she had known where to find the children. She knew that the less time the men had to object to her presence, the more likely it would be for her to be allowed to help out with the rescue effort.
"I've already said - assist others to safety, soldier! Follow instructions!"
Nike's voice was sharp as she addressed the dark-skinned soldier, her eyes flashing with restrained frustration. In the middle of a high stress situation was not a time when she wanted nor needed someone to be asking polite questions, or to be not aware of where their assistance would be most required in immediacy. Nike was a Commander through and through, and she stood for no shortcomings when it came to men, be it under her command or not. In a situation such as this fire, all hands on deck, everyone had to be on their most alert.
When she heard her name, Nike turned, and then a small amount of relief overtook the unbridled frustration when she saw Timaeus. He was young, and last she heard, he had taken over his family's barony upon the death of his brother - responsible, and knowing what was necessary. Nodding curtly, Nike handed over the child she was holding, and waved at the other female following her to follow Timaeus, Nike hurried back down after a curt nod when the baron informed her of the location the woman and the child would be. It was unlikely that the Commander would need to seek for them upon the city's safety being ensured, but if need be, she'll keep the information in mind.
Her ears perked. She wasn't even halfway as near to Vangelis as Philippos and Yiannis were, yet Nike was always alert to her general's command. The sweep was heard clearly by the Commander, and the woman doubled her steps to get there just as the men were being organized into a formation to systematically clear the city as best as they could. They have done the breaks, and did the best they could in culling the fire from spreading. Unless the skies opened up now, there was little else the soldiers could do save getting themselves to safety.
The woman chuckled at her general's comment, looking up as Zanon spoke up, the second prince getting nearer. "Rain would be wonderful now, but no sense in wanting what we can't have." the woman replied, a good-natured grin flashed at the other astride a horse.
Alert to command, Nike took up the left flank of the city, leading the men to comb the streets, assisting anyone they could, and - with a heavy heart - leaving those who would be more burden then be saved at this point. At a later day, when the fires had gone and the day has calmed, Nike would return to mentally apologize and lament internally over the lives they had failed. But for now they had to focus on the living, the ones who could be saved. Everything else would come later.
There were times that Maximus gave in to fear. Recalling back to when his unit was ambushed by a barbarian horde towards the end of Maximus' first year of service. Maximus remembered his entire body being paralyzed as he saw his fellow comrades getting cut down by the roaring Barbarians who began to flank them from both sides of the forest. Maximus cut down multiple barbarians but quickly realized that he fight was firmly in the Barbarians favor. Full of confidence and conviction, the savages roared in triumph hacking of the limbs of brothers whom he ate and sparred with.
All of the training in the world didn't prepare Maximus for what happens when they lose. Colchians were world renowned for being the best fighting force in the world, descended from Hercules himself. But Maximus wasn't a pure blooded Colchian rather a foreigner who earned citizenship status. Part of him wondered if that fear was what kept him from being a true Colchian soldier....
"I've already said - assist others to safety, soldier! Follow instructions!" Maximus for what felt like 50th time snapped back to reality. "This is not how a soldier reacts!" He muttered to himself. "Focus!"
"Yes sir!" Maximus said saluting to the man. Just as he was about to turn around and help the children, a voice was heard "Commander Nike!" Was what Maximus picked up over the screaming citizens. So that was his name. Maximus eyes adjusted to the smoke to see a clean shaven person with brown hair approaching Maximus. It didn't take much for him to yell at the young soldier. “And you left them to burn!?!” he yelled at Maximus who felt some spit hitting his cheek.
"No sir!" Maximus said crisply. "I have civilians clearing more of the wreckage and getting other children out. However I need more men!"
“Take us to them. NOW!” The man yelled and Maximus wasted no time sprinting towards the location. After a few minutes, Maximus arrived just in time to see the house still up in flames. "Good sir!" one of the civilians pleaded approaching Maximus. "We've managed to grab most of the children, but there are still three more trapped on the top floor!"
Maximus nodded ignoring his beating heart. "I got a commander with me!" he said. "We can grab them!" The young soldier rushed to the door, kicked it down and entered the smoking room his vision being obscured by the smoke.