Two Thousand Years

Nation (Full name): United Kingdom of Ulstome and Haradren
Commonwealth Member?: <NO>
Delegate(s) Attending:King Ulfar Von Falkenstein and his Wife Mary, Prince Henrik Von Falkenstein and his wife Monica, Princess Cathrine Von Falkenstein, Prime Minister George Roberts
Lodging of Choice: Dikava Paradise Resort
Special Requests:
Any additional comments:

Looking out of the car window as the glimmering lights of Pataliputra skimmed past, the Mondic Embassador to Syrixia, Samantha Seong, pondered why the government wanted her to attend such an important ceremony and not a special delegate

"Let me ask you a question P'yon..." Samantha looked to her trusted driver, personal bodyguard and close friend, P'yon Steele

"Yes ma'am?"

"Do you think this trip will be worth it?" she asked, with a tired look in her eye

"I do not quite understand what you mean ma'am. I understand the reasoning of the government wanting someone at the ceremony, it gives Mondari the chance to get a foot in the eyes of the Syrixian government."

Samantha sat up straight, looking down at the list of nations attending the ceremony

"Yes, I understand why the government wants someone here, there is a great deal of economic potential in the nations attending. However that is not what i mean P'yon."

Glancing back at Samantha, he gave her a look of concern

"What do you mean ma'am?"

"Well, it's just that... I have only been in government for two years. I'm not exactly the most qualified Embassador that could have attended."

Pulling the car to a stop in front of the Dikava Paradise Resort, P'yon turned around to look at Samantha

"I understand your concern ma'am, you are right, there are other Embassadors with more time in office under their belt; however, you were picked by the Mondic government, our government, to attend. They must see potential in you, they would not have picked somebody that they did not think has potential."

With the assurance of P'yon, Samantha felt slightly more confident in herself

"Thank you P'yon."

"Of course ma'am."

Stepping out of the car, P'yon grabbed their bags and handed the keys to the valet whilst Samantha waited for P'yon to finish talking to the valet

"Finshed?" Samantha asked with a hint of sarcasm

"Yes ma'am."

"Alright then, let's go get settled and prepare for the ceremony."

The view from the rooms at Dikava looked surreal. Rachel and Heather, the Sil Dorsettian Prime Minister's two eldest children, couldn't tell the difference between it and a video game. It was their first ever trip abroad, and they had never seen anything resembling what the resort was presenting to them. It all looked too perfect, and they just had to explore it for themselves. Their mother had other ideas.

The children were going to be away from school for a whole week. To avoid being declared truant, they had to justify their trip with a report highlighting what they learned the days they were out. It was an "educational field trip". They also had all of their anticipated homework to do, and they had four days following their return to finish it. It wouldn't take them that long. Mother Madeline would make sure of that.

"Mom! Can we go swimming?" Rachel pleaded after seeing the pristine pools of the resort.

"Maybe later. We have work to do," Madeline said. She pulled out several workbooks for the girls, and the list of assignments from their teachers. "How about we get this homework out of the way first?"

"Mo~~~~~m! Miss Paquet said I have four days!" Rachel protested.

"We have plenty of time. We're not doing anything else today, so let's get this done and we'll have fun the rest of the week. Come on, I'll help the two of you out."

And so the sisters spent much of their Monday under the tutelage of their mother, dreading the day but looking forward to the next.


"Ambassador, she's here."

The dining room of the Sil Dorsettian embassy in Syrixia was spartan compared to the grandeur of Rivage Palace's main dining hall, but it was sufficient for a relaxed and non-traditional royal to share a simple meal with her staff abroad. Claidie seemed unimpressed with what she was presented with, not smiling at all throughout lunch. Tenderloins were her favorite cut of meat, but what she was given seemed rather bland.

"I expect better from the chefs I hire," she stated.

Ambassador Fabron was quick to reveal an important fact that would save the job of the assigned chef. "Ma'am, Chef Marchand is sick today. I cooked the meal myself in his place."

The revelation seemed to de-fuse the princess, with her seeing reason to relax her expectations. "Well then, Ambassador, let me offer some advice. Season the meat, sea salt and pepper, before it goes into the pan. Season the broccoli with lemon and pepper," she calmly instructed the ambassador. "I'll give you the recipe. Two small changes and I might not have noticed the difference between you and Chef Marchand."

The conversation seemed awkward, as no one else said a word the whole time until Claidie asked about other things. The ambassador and his staff seemed too afraid of agitating further an already agitated royal.

"So, what's on my schedule for this week?" Claidie asked.

"You have a meeting with the Emperor on Thursday, followed by the gala on Friday, and departure on Saturday. The rest of the week is yours to use at your leisure," one of the aides replied. Despite trying to avoid it, the schedule seemed to do the very thing the staff was trying not to do following an unimpressive meal.

"So I was brought here on a Monday and you have nothing scheduled for me tomorrow and Wednesday?" Now the princess was angry; her patience with her staff had been exhausted. "I do not like having my time wasted. I expect this to be rectified as soon as possible. I don't care if you put my normal meetings back on the schedule or find something new. Fix it," she demanded.

With the meal over, Ambassador Fabron went to work trying to fill the princess's schedule with things worthwhile to her, knowing how productive she liked to be.

Anthony and Claire were happy to see their friend Jodha recieve them, giving her a hug at the door. "The flight went well, a bit of turbulence on the landing leg, but otherwise fine," said Anthony. Claire was less accustomed to flying, at least compared to her former pilot of a husband. "A bit is an understatement, A," she chuckled lightheartedly. Jodha had invited them to go see Rajesh at his study.

"Anthony! Claire! Welcome to the Palace!" exclaimed Rajesh. Anthony and Claire greeted him with a warm hug. "Good to see you Ray," said Anthony, "it's great to be here, a nice change of pace for once." Claire was looking forward to spending some time with Jodha, and mentioned she was going to "leave the boys alone for a bit" before going of to find the Empress.

The royal yacht was one of the few dots of light that could be seen in the night, save for the occasional cruise ship, freighter, or the odd pleasure craft. Effortlessly the ship's bow sliced through the ink-black waters of the Phoenix strait, headed for Pataliputra's harbor.

Kichiro lounged on the deck with his wife and Owen as they pointed out and discussed stars and constellations, the orbiting space station, and even some science fiction as they enjoyed the warm night's sea breeze. Occasionally a steward would pass by and make sure they had everything they needed. He enjoyed being invited along on trips with the royal family, whom he regarded as family, and they regarded him and his wife similarly. If it weren't for them he would never have experienced half the adventures he'd enjoyed. Reminiscing slightly, he recalled in his youth he was so fiercely set on career advancement he didn't take much time to stop and smell the roses as it were. Luckily he'd learned to strike the balance before he was filled with regret for lost opportunities, and had, fortunately, come to see much of Eras in the process.

Closer the ship drew to the glow of light on the horizon, and as they did the stars slipped from the sky into its haze. One by one the passengers joined them on the deck to better see the approaching twinkle of the city. It was one of the few cities on Eras that rivaled Sion in size and grandeur, and Kichiro likened the cities, in his opinion, as of kindred spirits.

Pulling into the harbor, three tugs joined them along with harbor patrol to guide them to the waiting dock. As the tugs maneuvered the large ship through the harbor, everyone got a great view of the city laid out before them in the night.

As they disembarked via the gangway, they were greeted by the familiar face of their ambassador, Thomas Crown, and his top staff, as well as the waiting musketeers, gathered around the motorcade. Taking a quick look at his watch, Tsar Harold firmly shook the ambassador's hand and interjected "Thomas, it looks like we still have a few hours before they roll up the sidewalks. Why don't you take the 'kids' out to go see the town and enjoy a little nightlife while the rest of us head up to the estate? Tomorrow is check in and shopping so don't stay out too late." With a slight smirk, he responded: "Indeed, sir." And with a turn on his heel, he gestured Scott, Owen, and Morgan toward one of the waiting cars.

Reaching the end of the dock the motorcade split into two; one headed into the city, and the other toward the Chanel Estate.

Okeke looked down at the gray and endless urban sprawl below. Pataliputra was certainly larger than any Demescian city he’d seen, even Verkas. Rows of lights and cars lined the streets of the city; Okeke could faintly see the figure of a large orange tower amidst the cityscape.

“Pataliputra really is something else, huh?” he said to Governor Acharya, who sat next to him. He had a fair skin tone, a shaven face and black curled hair. It contrasted the distinctly Ubgandian look of Okeke, whose skin was much darker and whose hair was cut close to the scalp.

“It’s the Pataliputra I’ve come to know,” Acharya responded. “I’ve spent vacations here countless times before.”

“In one of these gray buildings of the hustle and bustle or…”

“Ha. Nej. I'd either stay with family in the suburbs or go to one of the resorts in the exurbs. I was born and raised in Demescia, but it’s nice to revisit your roots, you know?”

“Yeah, I sometimes took my kids back to Naizerre to see their roots and their heritage. I’m the head of state now, so no time for vacationing anymore. Unless it’s official business of course.”

“You should’ve brought the kids along. Would’ve been a nice family trip.”

“Nah. Firstly, they’ve got school, and unless Recuko can remember the godforsaken capital of Kardonyszlav she can sit her butt at home.”

“Even I don’t know that one,” the governor chuckled. “It’s Astissa right?”

Okeke rolled his eyes at the hilarity. “Secondly, they’re too young to see the drama that will unfold between…you-know-who and you-know-who at you-know-where.”

“Oh yeah! Dear Messiah does M Pataliputra have a mess on their hands.”

“Exactly. I hope I don’t see them, because we haven’t made a stance on the issue yet. I hope they don’t kill each other either.”

“Why not again? Taking a side I mean, not the killing each other part. Though it'd make a great movie plot.”

Okeke rolled his eyes again. “Eh, taking either side is essentially a roulette game.”

“You and your metaphors.”

“It actually makes sense this time. A single country, or two depending on which side your on, has managed to polarize the international community: one that values the independence and acceleration of a nation-state quick to gain ground, and the other that prefers the perceived stability and traditional rule of a recently unstable power. It’s even managed to polarize Demescian discourse. Not to the point of aggression, or even as much as the Sifric crisis last year, but still. Picking a side is guessing whether the ball will roll on black or red.”

“Didn’t you make a decision on Crilalia though? Like a flowery speech about how they’re a legitimate state and that stuff?”

“Da, I did. However that was me agreeing with an otherwise legally held referendum. Furthermore, Plembobria, while being a potential trading partner and ally, isn’t a great power I’m concerned with. McMasterdonia, however, has ample historical significance and current influence. Also, Sutherland wasn’t the result of a referendum, but a migratory movement. It’s hard to truly assess the legitimacy of it therefore. So yeah. Roulette.”

“Oh.”

“By the way, you’re fluent in Suchari right?”

“The Hetacian dialect of it, da? Please tell me you didn’t go on this trip without studying up on Suchari,” Acharya smirked.

“I know it, believe me, but local accents and dialects are always hard to understand.”

“Fair. Well you’re lucky to be sitting next to a guy that picked up bit of Chhapra slang from his extended family.”

“Ha. Dankon.” Thank you.

“Nedankinde.” You’re welcome.

They descended as the plane landed in its port.

Duke Fleur Algrives II was as close as a personification of the nation of Peuportile as you could get. Barely holding on to the last specks of his thirties, he was a gambler, smoked cigars, drank glass after glass of alcohol, and was just newlywed to a Malorian actress a decade and a half younger than himself. He was extremely wealthy for the leader of a nation so small, due to the fact half the casinos there were owned by him, and because of that nation being so small and insignificant, it didn’t seem to matter if he was at ‘social gatherings’ until dawn and didn’t show up to the Council of Ministers until they had already been there for hours.


As his plane lowered over Syrixia, he finished his drink and observed, running a hand through his thinning hair. He didn’t seem nervous at all to appear in front of the most powerful people on Eras. Every fraction of money added to his bank account made him feel and act more invincible and irresponsible. But that didn’t matter, did it? Nothing he did now would matter, as Peuportile and himself would always remain off to the sides and mostly unnoticed, and he was perfectly happy with that. He was Peuportile, a man of vices, a man of money, and a man of questionable reliability.


One of the two guards with him took his glass of craft beer and set it aside, before sitting himself down for landing.


-


Malor-Kanada’s royalty had left Bergum in the rain, and hours later, there was no noise, apart from the barely-noticeable music playing from Grace’s one earbud that was not in. The Empress stared out the window at the surface of Eras far below. Across from her sat Marten, holding her hand and thinking while looking at her. Further down the plane was the last Malorian Keizer under Helmer and nephew to Marten's great grandfather, Alwin, reading peacefully to himself with a glass of wine in his free hand.


Grace’s focus shifted to herself. She had regretted putting on what she was wearing the moment she sat in her seat, a plain blouse and a skirt, dressing as though she was still in high school. She ignored what Marten had said about it. He was right, she was supposed to dress like a woman, not a girl, and in her role, dress imposingly. She would just have to change before any meeting or celebration.


Grace pulled her hand away from the Emperor as she noticed it had become warm and clammy from them holding for some time. Grace ignored Marten’s look as her retraction had broken his train of thought, and she rubbed the bridge of her nose exasperation, asking, “How long until landing?”


It was forty minutes until she was off the jet, traveling next to Alwin and Marten in a black car outside the limits of Pataliputra, and forty more until they reached their comfortable home in the Syrixian countryside. Those who needed to know within Syrixia were contacted about the safe arrival of the Emperor, Empress, and Archduke Alwin of Malor-Kanada.

"Must remind you of home" Governor-General Avrohom Kadish asked as Prime Minister Agastya Yamesh tapped his foot nervously as the elevator climbed up the M Hotel.

"In what way?" Yamesh asked.

"Adonai-Jireh isn't that big" Kadish remarked, shrugging his shoulders.
"I suppose I thought it was, but anything would seem big compared to the town I grew up in. After practising law in Sarazed though? I realized how small Adonai-Jireh was. You're from Sarazed, so Pataliputra must remind you of home."

The elevator dinged as they reached their floor. Yamesh sighed before stepping out after the Governor-General.
"I'm from Shedhaviv actually" he replied slightly annoyed. "I didn't make it into the city very often."

Kadish smirked. He knew that, but he enjoyed prodding the Prime Minister on the issue.
"I'll see you later tonight then" the Governor-General added as he turned right down the hallway.
"Yes, in a few hours" Yamesh replied, turning left.

To say the rooms were luxurious would be to sell them short. Modern, sleek, but most certainly posh. Agastya wasted no time, changing out of his business attire into an old Geriza U track shirt and sweat shorts before unceremoniously tossing himself onto the couch.
"Oh Shaddai that's good" he moaned. He loathed flying. Always had. Being Prime Minister and being able to bypass the headache of the airport didn't make it better. He just hated all of it. This though....this was bliss. Comfortable clothes, a comfortable couch. He could lie here for hours...he turned to face the clock and frowned. He only had three before he had to meet Avrohom for a meet and greet with other Commonwealth leaders. His frown turned to a scowl. He knew however long he managed to savour the feeling of relaxation he was feeling now? It wouldn't be enough. He didn't trust himself to take a short nap and not sleep through his appointments, so he propped his head up on the arm of the couch and turned the television on.

The M's movie selection proved to be impressive as well, but he found himself not paying much attention to the action film he selected. His own comfort had made thinking on the upcoming business he was scheduled to attend more palatable.
"On this, the two thousandth birthday of the Empire...eh" he remarked. He didn't like how it sounded.
"Though we are relative newcomers in the Empire's history we feel an unmistakable bond of kinship..." he pulled his Alef phone out and jotted that down into the notepad. It was better but...this wasn't about Iraelia. He didn't want to harp on Iraelia's timeframe in the empire.
"Our mistakable bond of kinship brings us here to celebrate the Empire's two thousandth birthday..." he pressed his lips together for a moment and nodded. That was a good start. With any luck? He'd have this finished by the time the purple guy with the powerglove fought the heroes...

The afternoon that the bi-millennium celebration was set to begin in Syrixia, the royal jet took off from Athrad Airfield and turned north towards Pataliputra. On board, Princess Helena and High Queen Sólveig were discussing the upcoming 2020 changes to the classes and certifications overseen by the Court of Master Sommeliers and Vintners and the Court of Master Cicerones and Brewers. The conversation quickly turned to a discussion about the case of mead that Helena had insisted they bring with them. Sighing to herself, Sólveig turned to her mother to once more inquire why they required so much wine, “móðir, was it really necessary to bring an entire case of mead with us? A simple bottle or two would have sufficed as a gift to the Syrixian Emperor for their two-thousand-year celebration. I know you like your mead, especially more so now that you’ve retired away from the public light and can spend more time perfecting your wine making craft. And with this being as big a celebration as it should be, I’m sure that there will be plenty of alcohol available both from the hotel and from the events being held.” Before answering her daughter, Helena turned towards one of the flight stewards and asked them to open a bottle of mead and to pour the two of them a glass after which they each took a glass and toasted one another with a hearty skál. Finishing off her first glass and pouring herself another glass of mead, Helena leaned back in her seat, “you know why dóttir, I don’t like foreign alcohols… there have been far too many occasions where I have tried them and in almost all cases I have found that they don’t live up to the Merilian equivalent, we simply do it better because of our purity laws that have existed for centuries. Better to raid our own personal storehouse and bring along our own alcohol which is guaranteed to be of high quality. Besides, this batch of mead came from a special cask of honey wine made specifically for the Syrixian celebration by you and Master Vintner Andri. It would be a shame and disservice to yourself and to Andri if we did not try some of the mead before we landed in Syrixia.” With that, Helena poured them another round of drinks before relaxing and continuing to talk to her daughter about the Courts, the wine making classes they were both attending, and what her daughter was planning for the summer now that Andrea was on break from school. With conversation lasting the entirety of the flight, Helena and Sólveig dug deep into the case of mead and had finished off three bottles with some assistance from those on board by the time they landed in Pataliputra where two private vehicles from the Merilian Embassy were waiting to take everyone to the Dikava Paradise Resort. What remained of the case of mead was loaded into the trunk of one vehicle while everyone’s suitcases were loaded into the other by the on duty royal guards. Upon arriving at the hotel, Princess Helena and High Queen Sólveig were checked in by their royal guards after which they made their way to their respective rooms. After Sólveig got settled in her room, she opened up her laptop and set up a video call with her husband and daughter over an encrypted line through the Merilian Embassy to wish them goodnight and that she would miss them for the week she was abroad in Syrixia.

Anegrette

The room was dark, the curtains closed and lights switched off, Anegrette sat on the floor in a meditative stance. Quiet moments like this one were a rare occasion for the Demi-Chief of the steppe, the endless list of diplomatic meetings, state councils and individual meetings could never be ignored for long.

She was facing the door, back resting against the wall, it was an old habit the assassin in her could never kick. Even now as a diplomat she was constantly checking her surroundings for potential blind spots and avenues of attack. She had to exert all her discipline when meeting foreign delegates to avoid running through potential methods of elimination, it was a task the assassin in her baulked at.

She breathed in deeply, eyes closed, in the darkness, she could hear her mothers voice, that mix of mirth and barely held in check aggression. Saskia's ghostly voice was just as piercing after her death as it had been in life, the memory of long, painful sessions filled Ana's mind

'Ana! Guard UP!!!'

'ANEGRETTE!!! WRONG!!! AGAIN!!! KILLING THRUST, NOW!!!'

'Again!!' 'AGAIN!!!' 'AGAIN!!!!'

She leaned forward, breathing heavily, her mother had been equal parts instructor and mentor....sometimes even friend...

'Just not mom very often' Ana thought with a sigh

She had hated the endless combat training, the lectures, the bruises and endless fatigue...childhood with Saskia had been durance greater then any battle she had ever fought against men, she cast her mind back to the day her mother had imparted the first piece of solid political advice to her

They had been standing on the balcony of the palace of Kimbria, a chaotic mix of the modern and ancient architecture that defined the clan's capital. The stink of the morning sea had filled the air, a salty reek that stuck in the nostrils. It had been a quiet moment, a rare reprieve similar to the one Ana was currently experiencing. Saskia the Red Adder of the West had stood there, ever the tall and imposing figure with her mail and furs.

They had been watching the ships come into port, an endless stream of vessels, some legitimate traders, most unmarked and carrying everything from smuggled weapons to hard drugs. Perhaps Saskia had been thinking about alliances as she stood there because when she turned to regard her eldest Daughter-Heir her steely grey eyes and hard, narrow face had been filled with a rare expression of softness

'Daughter, look out at the harbour, what do you see' she had asked calmly

Ana had been too young to understand what her mother was hinting at 'the Sea?' she had replied in a nervous tone, her mother rarely responded well to incorrect answers

In a rare display, Saskia had simply laughed, a dry and mirthless thing that did not inspire much levity.

'No Daughter, not the sea' She said 'try again'

'Ships?' Ana had said still unsure what her mother was getting at

'Indeed, carrying all the goods of Eras in their holds, and why do you think they come here?' Saskia replied looking down at her child inquisitively

'Because you're strong?' Ana replied, where was mother going with this? she hadn't normally been so vague

'Because I know them, I know what they want and how to give it to them, because all relationships are built upon knowledge and desire' Saskia had said finally

'And you want me to know about them too?' Ana had asked still confused

'I want you to know how to handle them and their intentions' Saskia had replied

'Do you trust them?' Ana had asked, she had never known where that question had come from, she had just said it almost as if instinctively

'Trust no one, cliche I know but listen, daughter, all who draw breath are creatures of interest and desire, they will kill or embrace you depending on which option leads to fulfilment. Learn to read those around you, friend and foe, get to know what they desire and then never forget it, it could mean the difference between making alliances and being strangled in your sleep' Anegrette had been 7 at the time, the advice had stuck.

She opened her eyes and regarded the room around her, a spartan arrangement as was her preference, a small bed and her bags were all she required, she travelled light and was always ready to pack up and leave in moments, another Kimbri habit she could not shake.

She drew the long knife from beneath her pillow and regarded it, the steel glowed as it caught the slither of sunlight that peeked through the curtain...unadorned and constructed with the sole purpose of killing swiftly, it seemed out of place here, she would need a different tool to execute her plans in Pataliputra.

She turned to the encoded files her networks of sisters had compiled ahead of the celebration, countless entries on every one of note coming to this gathering, she opened it and began to read her eyes skimming the pages hungrily. 32 nations worth of information, she intended to read the entire thing before she got her usual 4 hours of sleep.

'Trust no one'

'Get to know what they desire and never forget'

Her mother's words echoed in her head as she began to read, knowledge and not knives would be her edge in pataliputra.

Nation (Full name): Triple Federation of Trinster
Commonwealth Member?: <YES>
Delegate(s) Attending: Triumvirate Robyn Llewellyn
Lodging of Choice: The M Paliputra
Special Requests: The Triple Federation only requests that Triumvirate Llewellyn be able to bring a Portable EVA Terminal with them.
Any additional comments: (OOC: Robyn Llewellyn uses they/them pronouns)

The ride to the Sastennic embassy was quiet for the most part. King Renadt and Azaras had a car to themselves, while the foreign minister followed close-behind in his own vehicle. They spent most the time relaxing and enjoying the city scenery as it flickered past; it reminded them of Azarai. The silence couldn't last forever though, and as usual, it was Renadt who had to break the ice.

"Az, do you ever get tired of flying so many hours in two cubic meters of cockpit? The seats on Sentinel One are a lot more comfortable," he said. "Plus, you'd cause less problems for the ground crews."
"I don't know, it just...doesn't feel right to be in the air without the controls at your fingertips," she replied. "When you're in the pilot's seat, every movement, every bump, every moment of calm feels like it's you who's doing it, and you know how to keep going. With someone else at the controls it's like you're just along for the ride. Everything feels worse, even though you have everything to know it's perfectly normal."
"You know, I could have them let you fly the plane yourself if you want. You do have your flight rating for large multi-engine jets."
"Eh, I prefer planes that perform marginally better than an ornery cow." she said, smiling at the suggestion. "And there's a really nice view you can only get above 16 kilometers. Gives you a sense of perspective and...freedom you just can't get from staring out a tiny oval.

"Anyways, what's the plan for today? Most of the important stuff isn't until later, so I guess we have today to ourselves pretty much?" she asked.
"Yes, for you anyways. I have to work some things out at the embassy, minor details about the trip mostly. You should take the time to get out and see the city while you can, and maybe make some friends as well; a lot of the kings crowned in the last few years are about your age or even younger. It wouldn't hurt to get to know them better, make some connections, maybe see what they have to say about ruling in ways old men like me just can't describe well enough. Though you might want a shower and a change of clothes first; 'Air Legion Chic' doesn't seem to be a popular style here."
"Alright... I think I'll take a walk around, see what there is" she paused and gave a wry smile. "I'll try not to start an international incident."
"I know you won't," he smiled back. And with that the quiet resumed.

Tuesday, April 16

There was an unspoken rule in the Mitharam- the sector of the Golden Palace's private wing that housed the bedchambers of the members of the Imperial House who lived there, as well as the Palace's guest rooms- when it came to noise. No loud noises were to be made before 8:00 in the morning. This was when Empress Dowager Kasturba, the Emperor's elderly mother, woke. As much as Rajesh was in charge of the Empire, his mother was in charge of his home. Of course, as it should be in accordance with tradition, but all the same it had always been a slight annoyance; though he had been used to it for a long time, as had Anthony.

The two had woken earlier that morning, met up, and had quietly made their way to a small sitting room outside of the Mitharam, and were brought breakfast platters. Rajesh personally had koki with butter brought to him. The popular traditional dish could really be eaten with anything you can dip food into, and then some, but he had always liked simple, straightforward butter since he was young. It was with that koki that the true first day of what would become a long week began for the man hosting half the world in his capital; a half it would fall to him, today, to split up into the appropriate groups. That began with the release of a State Department communique to all attending delegates.

---

---

Diwan Sahab had already been through a bunch of these types of meetings since he had taken office. The Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting was nothing new. The heads of government would, of course, meet, briefly greet and enjoy the catering, and then draft some joint statement about whatever. This year the Emperor had asked Diwan Sahab to stress two virtues the Commonwealth was committed to: stability and international prosperity; and to stress the importance of the Commonwealth as a voice in the world. That would probably be fine.

What was interesting about this one, though, was a rare occurrence: the calendars had lined up just so, so that the election for the office of Commonwealth Secretary-General was occurring within less than a week of CHOGM. Naturally, the election had to be moved to the CHOGM date, so the heads of government could watch. That would liven things up.

The State Curator, however, did not have much further time to think on these types of matters, as he had crossed the threshold into the room within the Golden Palace set up for initial meetings. From there the group would head down a hallway and be photographed by the press, and then back the other way and to the designated meeting area. Then they'd go watch the election. That was the day, and Diwan Sahab was ready for it.

He was, of course, also ready for the buffet, and went straight for the matar paneer, getting himself a hearty plate and then going to greet those others present.

The Arc-Wonderess had already been in Syrixia a day, but it felt like a month. What a strange city this was: Pataliputra. It seemed restless and constantly moving. Jarreau longed for the relative serenity and peace of ArchCentre, but he had a duty to uphold. Sutherland needed to be present and seen by the world. The celebration of the Syrixian regime was an unavoidable opportunity. The only problem was the cursed maze of the M Pataliputra Hotel. There was word that the McMasterdonian delegation too was within this labyrinth. They had to be avoided at all costs. Most of the nations already painted Sutherland in light of McMasterdonia, and so it was up to the Arc-Wonderess to show what Sutherland was sufficient and independent of its former captor. The Arc-Wonderess was expected out front for an official guided tour of the city. Such an experience was both exciting and nerve racking given the "in your face" character the city gave off upon arrival.

Nathan opened the door of the hotel room slowly and carefully looked in both directions of the hallway. There was no sight of any McMasterdonian. His Wonder proceeded to fast walk to the elevator, almost like his life depended on reaching the doors uninterrupted. He quickly pressed the button and realized out of the corner of his eye that there was a child around the age of 8 there with him, staring at him intently. Nathan turned to him, "Hello dear child, how do you do?"

The boy stared for a moment, "Do you work here? I dropped my lion and went to pick him up and then my mommy was gone."

Nathan first processed the idea of him working at the M Hotel. He was dressed in his white sash which he would have thought made it evident that he did not work at the hotel, but was rather a dignitary or furthermore head of state. Secondly, he noticed the boy's stuffed animal which looked like a 2000 year celebration Syrixian lion (official) plush. Finally, he noticed the fear and worry in the boys eyes and sighed. Looking at his watch he saw he had ten minutes before the tour was to begin. He took the boy's hand and walked away from the elevator.

"So, where did you last see your mother?"

Artijom hadn't expected the Prime Minister to look so... Broken. It was kinda depressing in all honesty. The woman had deep bags under her eyes, a near constant scowl, and always seemed to be busy. Even on this tour, she had looked up maybe once? Twice? Instead of looking out into the beautiful city that was Kalety, she was just looking at documents and newspapers from back home and circling various words and phrases like some paranoid schizophrenic. Artijom glanced over a few times.

"M-Mrs. Vehrn, have you even looked out the window once this whole tour?" Artijom spoke in hushed Andrennian.

Olivia dropped her pen on her little clipboard of documents and newspaper, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and peered at the wiry, lanky man sitting next to her as if he had just asked her something ridiculous. She lowered her hand and sighed.

"Mr. Yyldira- Artijom was it? Artijom, d-do you have any idea what it's like back home right now? Have you been watching uh, anything, keeping up with ANN, have you read a single thing in your time as ambassador here in Syrixia or are those glasses just for show? Listen-" Verhrn rubbed her eyes for a minute before continuing. "Listen, because I'm only going to say this once, I didn't come to Syrixia to be lambasted by our own ambassador, alright? I came here just to get away from the god damn press for a week, and I couldn't even do that right, every time I see a camera flash I feel like I'm going to panic. I don't wanna hear any bullshit from anyone on how poorly of a job I'm doing as Prime Minister, alright? Is that simple enough of an order for you to listen to!? " She had raised her voice a bit in the process of her rant and the tour guide had stopped speaking for just a moment, before nervously clearing their throat and continuing.

Artijom looked away for a minute, saddened and a bit embarrassed, but also concerned. He looked back to the shorter woman, still clearly panicking to herself as she took a cigarette from a pack in her purse and lit it quietly.

"Mrs. Vehrn with all due respect if there's anything I've learned in my time as an ambassador it's that you can't worry about every little thing that you've done. You gotta live in the moment, otherwise your past overwhelms you. Of course, make amends for any really shitty things you've done but for the most part forgive and forget where possible and think in the present." Artijom sighed. The Prime Minister had been quietly reading but... Listening, even if it didn't appear that way.

"All I'm asking is for you to just put your damn documents away for the duration of this trip. You have a lot on your plate, don't you think you deserve just a week of relaxation? You're here for a celebration, not a panic attack. Ignore any press you see, live in the now, forget about what's going on back home for a bit." Artijom pleaded with her as the blonde puffed on her cigarette.

Vehrn quietly opened her travel bag and stuffed the papers into a manila folder. With that done she finally started taking in their surroundings. "...Cigarette?"

Artijom smiled lightly as he went back to looking at the beautiful, glistening city they found themselves in. "No thanks, smoking is a bad habit you know?"

The Commonwealth...what was the Commonwealth? It was a rhetorical question, of course. Avrohom Kadish mused as he waited with the Iraelian Prime Minister. Rhetorical as it was? It was worth asking. After all, how could one reaffirm the meaning of something without asking why it had meaning.

"Agastya, have you ever thought about the Commonwealth?" he asked the Prime Minister as he examined the various paintings that lined the walls of the hall of the Golden Palace.

"In what way?" Agastya Yamesh replied, turning to face the Governor-General.

"What is it? Why does it have meaning?"

Yamesh shrugged.
"It has meaning because it's important. It's a central body for us to coordinate with our allies and re-affirm ties to the Empire and those states who share our Imperial heritage."

"Would you say that heritage is important?"

Yamesh looked shocked that he'd be asked that.
"Of course. Iraelia and the Empire have a long history. Isn't that worth celebrating?!"

Kadish just chuckled.
"I never said it wasn't, but we're here. Celebrating the Empire's 2000th year. It's a celebration of heritage above all else. Don't you think it's important to question why it's important? How else do we really know that it is?"

Yamesh sighed.
"I'll be honest with you, Avi. I never much cared for such self reflection to that degree. Things are because they are. The Empire's important because of the history. Can't that be enough?"

"History is important" the Governor-General replied, "but consider this. If we just accept that the Empire is important without considering why it is, we risk losing that real connection. That real sense of why it matters. Just accepting something...after a while it becomes habitual and not meaningful to revere it."

"I think..." Yamesh began before pausing to think, "...that why we value things is a matter of will and not reflection. Things hold value because we know they do, and they only lose value when we lose the will to defend that value."

"That's an easy system" Kadish said with a nod. "Provided you can control what everyone thinks."

"Well when I figure it out you'll be the first to know, Avi" Yamesh shot back with a friendly chuckle.

"I'm sure I will Agastya."

Tobias adjusted his sunglasses as the tour of Merunagar continued. It was so damn hot! He thought Palaputra was hot, no this was worse. It was further south, it made sense. He grumbled....silently of course. He had no one to blame but himself. He'd requested this tour. He could have decided on Kalety or Chiang Mai but no. He wanted to go to the city with the mysterious ancient ruins. No one told him it's be this hot and humid...At least his dress was suited for it. A simple cotton shirt, pants, sunglasses, and hiking boots. The only overt symbol of his royal personage a crowned stag head lapel pin on his shirt.

"Here we see the Empire's excavation efforts underway" the tour guide said with a smile as Tobias and Magnus looked on.

"And how old are the sites?" Magnus Brandt asked curiously, clutching his cane as he got a closer look.

"The oldest sites we know of date to 9000 BCE, Prime Minister" the tour guide responded. "Though Dubal-Në archaeology is a challenging field. In sites such as this we can find structures as early as 2500 BCE on top of older structures. We know that various Dubal-Në structures elsewhere date to 9000 BCE because we have no consecutive development, but on sites like this where we do? It's a challenge. Newer sites mean more recent occupation, which means more degradation of earlier sites. Though we know what to look for in the older sites, which helps us parse them out."

"9000 BC..." Tobias said, almost to himself.

"Yes Your Majesty, that old" the tour guide confirmed. Tobias smiled.

"Sorry, I was merely thinking out loud. That's...I don't think I can even conceptualize that. Were our ancestors even in Andrenne yet?" he asked turning to Magnus.

"You'll have to forgive me Your Majesty" Magnus replied, "my days as a school boy recounting the dates of Heorot's history have long since passed me by" he added with a chuckle.

Tobias nodded.
"I honestly don't think they were....that's proto-Gotic history. In Xentherida..." he walked up to the boundary to get a closer look at the structures under excavation.

"They were this advanced when we were still barbarians in caves..." he said looking back at Magnus and the tour guide.
"Imagine where they'd be now if they'd survived."

"There was an Aed-Kaene presence in your country, was there not Your Majesty?" the tour guide asked.

Tobias nodded.
"When I was younger, after we'd secured Tempest Holm, I found some...." he hesitated. That skull he'd found in the crypts. It still freaked him out. "I found some remains. But...the war didn't leave much time to reflect."

"Perhaps we could liaison with the Imperial government on their people aiding the Royal Reliquary in some proper excavations Your Majesty" Magnus suggested.

"We have a Royal Reliquary?" Tobias asked, sounding a bit surprised.

"Well we did, years ago. No reason not restart one" the cheerful Prime Minister replied.
"They would keep quite busy between the Yeran sites, the Aed-Kaene sites, the Bayardi settlements, and our own ancestors foundations."

"We'll talk about back home" Tobias replied with a nod and smile.

"If you'll both follow me" the tour guide continued, "we'll be entering one of the temples that has been fully excavated. It dates to around 4000 BCE, and is believed to have been replaced with newer structures. It's fascinating that the Dubal-Në chose to build newer temples on a newer site rather than build on an existing site like they did elsewhere...."

The tour guide's voice faded into the background as Magnus and Tobias entered the structure, both relieved to be out of the Syrixian sun.

"How did you find Pataliputra?" Tobias asked as the two slowed to a leisurely stroll.

"It's quite substantial Your Majesty" Magnus replied.
"Though I found that once you've gotten used to street traffic elsewhere it's all very easy to get accustomed to. Regardless of the city's size."

Tobias chuckled.
"Hiding out in hovels in the woods never gave me a chance to appreciate that" he replied. "I thought Beaconsviði was loud but..." he shrugged.
"I guess one day we should be so lucky if Beaconsviði is that lively at all hours."

"A young man's game" Magnus replied. "I'm afraid I'm too old to appreciate anything that may happen past nine o'clock."

"So you slept well, at the Embassy?"

"Yes Your Majesty. The noise, as I said...I'm used to it. Beaconsviði streets, shipyards of Keris. Noise in the evening has never bothered me."

"That's good."

"And you Your Majesty?"

"Pardon?"

"You met with Queen Alycia after her party arrived. How as your evening with Her Grace?"

Tobias sighed but smiled.
"Magnus, I promised you that as my Prime Minister I would tell you everything you needed to know. This doesn't fall under that."

"Fair enough Your Majesty" Magnus replied raising his eyebrows before slowing his pace and letting Tobias catch up with the tour guide.

"Young man's game, as they say" he said to himself as he continued on.

The distant sound of waves filled the afternoon air like soothing music, the stinging heat of Pataliputra easing somewhat as cool coastal breezes caressed the shore. Gaiseric and Anegrette lay together on an outstretched cloak, they rested in contented silence, savoring the rare moment of peace.

Magnar certainly has good taste in housing Gaiseric thought with a satisfied smile, the villa the Hureg chief had leased for the duration of their stay possessed a small walkway leading down to a secluded beach, a place to come and enjoy tranquility, Magnar knew his student well.

Gaiseric reached for his wineskin and took a sip, relishing the smokey taste, next to him Anegrette lit a cigarette, the smoke from it coiling in the morning air like ghostly curls. He reached for her hand and smiled as she took it in her own.

'The simple pleasures are the best' he said with a grin

'Always' she replied Cigarette perched between her lips

Gaiseric had been loath to venture beyond the comfortable sanctum today, the thought of long hours in hot and cramped streets did not appeal. Instead, he and Anegrette had elected to remain home, the reprieve from crowds and vast city proving most welcome.

'I've been thinking about our conversation in the library' Anegrette said finally

'Oh?' Gaiseric said surprised

'When you meet the emperor you need to do so as an equal, if you acquiesce to any commonwealth agreement the clans will destroy you' she said her tone matter a fact

'I had no inten..' Anegrette held up a hand to silence him

'But, if you are seen to return home with a trade deal and no signs of submission, they will flock to your banner' she said with a smile before taking a long drag on her cigarette

'A pathway to kingship' Gaiseric said finally, voice suddenly excited

'Show the clans that you have the respect of the world and they will place that crown upon your head without protest or hesitation' she said stubbing out her cigarette in a nearby cup

'Our heads' Gaiseric said 'We do everything together'

'Always' Anegrette said with a warm smile

The quiet hum of computer servers and the noise of the air conditioning were the only sounds which penetrated the Ambassadors office within the Haor Chall Embassy in the Syrixian Empire. A windowless room deep inside the centre of the building and cocooned away from the outside world, it was easy to forget the Embassy was located in the bustling and cosmopolitan city of Pataliputra. Quintus had only arrived a day earlier however, and the car journey from the airport to the Embassy had given him a glimpse of the city, an interesting blend of modernity and history. It was the history which interested him most, the steel and glass towers of metropolitan Pataliputra could easily be exchanged with those in Xi Char or any other developed city in the world, but the history was different. Two thousand years was a long time by anyone’s standards after all.

He was disturbed from his internal thoughts by a polite cough from the Charrian Ambassdor, Marius Raabe. “Were the briefing materials provided for you sufficient, Councillor?”

Quintus chuckled, knowing despite the politeness of the question the Ambassador was more concerned that he not accidentally cause a diplomatic incident due to lack of local understanding. Doubtless the Ambassador and his staff had not expected a member of the Council to attend the event in person, but times were changing. Quintus did not reply directly, but instead voiced some of his earlier thoughts, “We are here because there are lessons to be learned. Our doctrine holds that where individuals may die, an idea cannot – until it is overpowered by a stronger idea. The Syrixian Empire has stood for two thousand years, that is a very powerful idea indeed.”

Raabe nodded slowly, “Indeed, although even the Syxrians would not argue that they have had two thousand years of continuous peace and stability under the Empire. My recommendations regarding the gift for the Emperor were accepted? I have not had confirmation from the Palace on whether you will be granted an audience yet.”

The change of subject was hardly subtle but Quintus decided to indulge the Ambassador this time, they did have the whole afternoon on the tour to look at Syrixian history. “Yes,” he relied, “Your recommendations were taken. I think you missed my point however, admittedly us Charrians are driven to seek order over chaos, but the power of the idea of the Syrixian Empire is not in two thousand years of stability, but in surviving two thousand years despite conflict and upheaval. That is true strength and something we should look to learn from. Speaking of which, how long until our tour guide arrives?”

Seven in the morning came sooner than Rachel and Heather would have liked. It was the second day of their vacation away from school, and they both were content with sleeping in, not caring about the usual routine to prepare for a weekday. Their mother didn't see it that way.

Tuesday wasn't planned to be an active day for Madeline. While the schedule had Commonwealth nations in focus and more structured, independent delegates were afforded a bit more freedom with their schedule. Madeline decided to use the time to pester her daughters with more knowledge than they really wanted. It all made for a good story to tell their school, but not one the younglings wanted to tell themselves.

"Let's go, girls. Get washed up. Ten minutes each at the most," she commanded her children.

While Rachel begrudgingly began her shower, Heather used the downtime to be as cranky as ever, unsatisfied with the rigid schedule and unclear list of activities she was expected to be a part of.

"Mom, it's a vacation!" Heather whined. "I want to sleep in!"

"It's an educational field trip, dear," Madeline said, correcting Heather. "We're touring the city and you're going to learn something. We'll have fun when we're done. Now, make sure you have your notebook to write things down on."

Heather rolled her eyes as she made sure her composition book and many pencils were ready, not fully understanding the "Why?" behind it, but knowing resistance would be futile. She then picked out her outfit for the day while Rachel finished up in the shower, and the two switched sides with Madeline having to give Rachel nearly the exact same speech.

Once the trio was all prepared for the day, they went down to the lobby to meet with the tour guide hired specifically for them, with Madeline reminding them that the agenda had to benefit the children's education more than her own curiosity.

Claidie's morning executive meeting turned into one-on-one time between two sisters since Madeline was on tour, but in her mind it was still better than having nothing to do. Claidie didn't particularly care for tours or shopping set to a rigid schedule. The freedom to decide precisely when to do such things, like she did while visiting Goyanes unannounced, was much more favorable. So, the daily routine, albeit abridged in some aspects, was preferred over mindlessly moping around in the confines of an embassy.

She wished she hadn't flown out as early as she did, and even considered flying back since the trip would have been only a few hours. But, for the sake of efficiency, she thought it better to stick it out. Though, this limited her in various ways. She couldn't hold small claims court. She couldn't sign new legislation. She had no simulator to practice her racecraft. All she had was a kitchen to cook in and the embassy grounds to run laps around. Unless she randomly decided to go out into the world despite the lack of direction, the next two days would prove to be a dull affair for her.

So dull, in fact, she decided not to have it that way. She made a call to the ambassador to let them know about a change in plans. "Ambassador Fabron, I'm heading back home," she said. "If anyone asks, tell them it was a family emergency."

Ambassador Fabron, dumbfounded by the princess's sudden change of plans, knew that, on one hand, canceling an audience with the Emperor was a stupid move that would ruin bilateral relations. One the other hand, there was nothing that could be done to sway the princess back the other way.

Chancellor Hutchinson made her way to the room where the CHOGM would be held. She had rehearsed this introduction many times on the way to Pataliputra. She would make Guslantis proud.

Suddenly, her Azul phone rang. It was a group video chat from the King. Abigail answered and his face soon appeared on her screen. He was not alone though. Also in the chat were Commander Akerman, Dame Durand, and Governor Armanda.

"I like your haircut," said Hutchinson, noticing that Akerman had shaved the sides of her head.

"Thanks, it can sometimes get in the way," joked Akerman.

"It's crazy how much has changed in just these last few months. Leah was planning this trip up until her--this is important as you know. Please reach out if you need anything from the Jewel. I will make sure to provide whatever it is you may want or need," said Marcus, visibly saddened by the loss of his sister.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," replied Abigail with a smile.

"Hopefully we can expand our trade agreements with non-META Commonwealth members. Especially given our close relationship with Alef," commented Alicia.

"Try not to fall asleep, I hear meetings like this can take forever. Especially with all these damn politicians," said Akerman, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks for the advice, Emily. Governor Armanda, please make sure to complete the tasks I asked of you. I left a convenient spreadsheet for you if you get confused," said Abigail and Armanda nodded.

"Best of luck, Abigail," said the King, ending the chat. The four Guslants smiled as their faces disappeared from her Azul.

Abigail put the Azul away and then made her way over to greet the Syrixians and the rest of the attendees.

"Bonjour, I am thrilled to have the opportunity to meet all of you for the first time today," said Natalie, the Queen of Ponterre. The CHOGM would be her first formal interaction with other leaders since ascending to the throne in February. "Under normal circumstances, the Prime Minister would be present today however he has duties back home which he needs to fulfill. I will be taking his place." Her Mercanti was far from perfect, but it was improving. She read off of the notes on the piece of paper in front of her that she had prepared beforehand. "We must mourn the premature passing of my father, and there is much that he could not complete. The Kingdom of Ponterre is hoping to forge closer relationships with its fellow Commonwealth members, particularly those on Meterra. I have greatly enjoyed this celebration thus far and know that today the Commonwealth has a unique opportunity to ensure that the future of this organization is bright and that its members can prosper." As the teenage monarch stopped talking, her mother, the regent, tapped her on the shoulder: "Bien joué," she whispered into Natalie's ear as she sat back in her seat.

Nation (Full name): United Dragon Clans of Darcania
Commonwealth Member?: <NO>
Delegate(s) Attending: Zephyr kul Sanguine, Scian kul Leiter, Kultur kul Leiter
Lodging of Choice: The Kyloth Reserve. Permission has already been secured from Asayis kul Kyloth.
Special Requests: None.
Any additional comments: None.

"I welcome you, Your Majesty, and your kind words warm us all." Diwan Sahab replied to Natalie, before addressing the greater assembly. "It is true that we have much to do. Thank goodness we have these every year!" he continued, chuckling.

"On this two-thousand-year anniversary of the Empire in particular, as Her Majesty noted, we have a unique opportunity indeed. Following last year's meeting, many events unfolded that changed and evolved the global landscape. Such is the nature of politics in a faster, more connected world, I suppose." He paused briefly. "Yes, we have an opportunity- one to truly bring this organization, long and storied in its history since its founding 65 years ago, into the modern age."

"And not just that, but we also have the opportunity to watch as history continues to progress. I believe the Secretary-General election is scheduled for today. Following initial greetings here, we can head to the Council chambers and observe from the gallery before we get on with the meeting itself."

It was about mid morning in Syrixia on the Tuesday of the Bimillenium. High King Fenris, and Prince Nurendir were out on the veranda of the Villa they had rented. They were talking, sipping coffee, and taking in the sights of morning on the beach. The periodic bouts of quiet would have likely been strange to others, but this had always been their relationship. From a young age Fenris had instilled in Nurendir the tremendous value of silence.

There peace was finally interrupted by an attendant with a message. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, if you wish to attend your tour of the Golden Palace we should depart within the next several minutes."

Nurendir thanked the attendant and the two men finished their coffee. "Have you been looking forward to this Father?" Nurendir asked.

"Oh yes, architecture and design are subtle arts that I've come to appreciate in my old age." The King responded.

"Oh gods, you're only 50 something." Nurendir said with a laugh.

"50 something!" Fenris yelled back. " You ungrateful...do you even know when your dear old father's birthday is?"

"Absolutely its a national holiday..." Nurendir said slyly.

"Gah" the Emperor exclaimed, clearly having forgotten that fact. "Well if its wasn't would you?"

"Of course I would, so little faith." Nurendir scoffed.

"When's your sister's birthday?" Fenris said accusingly.

Nurendir stared back blankly desperately trying to come up with the answer.

"See." Said Fenris.

"Wait! I know it!" Said Nurendir. "August 3rd!"

Fenris stared at him with a pained looked for a few seconds. "That's the cat's birthday."

"Oh damn it." Nurendir said defeated.

"Mhm." Said Fenris. "Now lets go."

"Yeah okay old man." Said Nurendir, followed by the quick thud of his father's hand upside his head.

---

The Golden Palace Complex was beautiful, while it was distinctly foreign Nurendir could not help but have the strangest feeling of nostalgia. After a quick exchange of pleasantries with Palace Officials they were in the hand of their tour guide.

"Today we will be taking you throughout the complex your Majesty." Said the tour guide. "We will be seeing sites to include the Imperial Library, the Azure Gardens, the Red Temple, and several of the older portions of the Palace in order to show you the evolution of the complex over time."

"That sounds splendid." Said Fenris. "Take us away." The guide gave a quick curtsy, and they were off.

"The original Palace Complex was ordered by Rajesh I after returning to Syrixia following the conquest of Esplandia in 1704." The guide began. "The grounds have expanded greatly since then, but much of that original work remains."

"As I understand it, this was not the original Imperial Palace was it?" Fenris asked the tour guide.

"No your Majesty." She replied. "The Black Fort in the Old City to the north served as the residence of the Imperial Family from the time of Emperor Rishabhanatha."

"And the Back Fort remains?" Asked Nurendir?

"It does your Highness." She said.

"That would make for another interesting trip Father."

"Indeed it would." Fenris replied.

"We will now be entering the Imperial Library." Said the tour guide. "Please take your time and explore, I'll remain here when you are ready to continue."

After spending all together too much time in the library Nurendir was able to drag his father back to the tour guide.

"Are we ready to continue?" She asked.

"Absolutely." Said Nurendir before Fenris was able to get a word in.

"Next we will be heading through the Azure gardens to the Red Temple. The Red Temple is the headquarters of the Order of the Imperial Sentinels and is one of the oldest building on the island along with the Black Fort."

The stroll through the Azure Gardens was wonderful in the midday sun, in many ways it reminded the two men of home in Alnaria. The Red Temple was also of immense interest to Nurendir who was a solider himself, and the Knight Captain of Armenalis. From the temple they were taken back into the Palace proper.

"We are now walking through some of the oldest section of the Palace." Said the tour guide. " Take note of the gold leaf used the decorations. the outside is primarily gold paint, but within the Palace is the real gold." After strolling for awhile they went through a set of doors, and the guide welcomed them to the Throne Room. "Here you will find the Jade Throne. It is solid Jade and was moved here from the Black Fort."

After admiring the art and architecture for awhile longer, the guide brought them back to the entrance to conclude the tour. "I hope you have enjoyed the tour Your Majety, Your Highness."

"It was excellent." Said Fenris. "Your knowledge of the Complex is a credit to the Palace Staff."

The Guide gave one last curtsy and reentered the Palace.

"Well that was very interesting." Said Nurendir. "I think we made a good choice staying in Pataliputra."

"Indeed, I wouldn't want to be on the tour in Merunagar in this heat."

"Speaking of this heat, I think I could use a drink." Said Nurendir.

"Best idea you've had all day." Laughed Fenris.

Alric & Helbrandt

A Balmy wind blew across the wharf, it was a pleasant change from the overpowering heat of the home islands. The cafe was quiet, most people choosing to avoid the police escort and unusually dressed men. Alric was unconcerned by the standoffish locals, he was too busy enjoying their food, the tripe soup proving both filling and delicious.

'These unhorsed seem far too eager to stare' Helbrandt grumbled as he fumbled the tiny espresso cup in his gigantic fingers

Alric sighed and gazed at the city, the old cities ancient architecture blurred with the glittering spires of finance that beckoned from their modern center. The people of Kalety were an oddity, ancient by any standard but also utterly modern, their skills in finance had made them a hub for business and their stubbornness in battle had ensured their autonomy.

'They are the last of their kind, a remnant whose main experience with strangers is at swordpoint, I think we are more alike then you think' Alric said trying to calm the Karg chieftains endless complaints

'What would a true son of Essalan have in common with these Unhorsed?!' Helbrandt asked in an accusing tone

'For one thing, like us, they have never kneeled to a foreign power, no nation has ever conquered Kalety' Alric replied without looking up from his soup

That seemed to quiet Helbrandt, the warrior in him able to appreciate a people who could not be conquered.

'Then answer me this son of Volkmann, if they are unconquered why do they fly a banner with Syrixian colors?' Helbrandt asked Alric sighed internally, the Karg would not be ignored today

'Their prince grew weary of constant war and so chose to willingly join the empire, he kept his title, his realm, and his autonomy, and the Syrixians kept their wounded pride' Alric replied, Helbrandt grinned

'Amusing, maybe you are right, this Kalety Clan are clearly more worthy then I gave them credit for, I especially like this black water they serve' he said knocking back his fifth espresso

Alric raised an eyebrow in concern ' That's coffee...'

'It's Exhilarating!' Helbrandt said in a loud voice as he slammed the porcelain cup down on the table, tiny cracks appearing on the fragile pottery

A snobbish looking waiter promptly arrived and cleared away the used utensils, irritation clearly etched on his disapproving face as he hauled off the chipped and bent items. Alric sighed again, they were utterly out of place amongst these people, their Kaftans and Fur cloaks alone marking them as oddities.

'I think I respect these strange people' Helbrandt said in an unusually thoughtful tone

'Really? even though you said they were unhorsed?' Alric replied skeptically

'Yes actually, they are rude, haughty and overly fond of comfort....but they have preserved their way of life... I can respect that, I hope however that we are not headed for the same blissful autonomy beneath some Syrixian banner' Helbrandt said waving for another coffee, his broken Mercanti sounding like strangulation

'Gaiseric will never let us end up the possession of another nation, but he does understand the need to make allies, Helbrandt, its a skill you could stand to learn as well, not every problem can be solved with defiance and swords' Alric said remembering how recently the Karg war had been

Helbrandt leaned back in his chair, only the creaking wood breaking an otherwise complete silence, the Karg chieftain had only been promoted recently to his position. Gaiseric had met the Karg on the field of battle and offered them a chance at survival, Helbrandt had taken the offer and become a loyal supporter of the new order. But the old wounds were far from healed.

'Hmmm...perhaps, Ulli certainly never learned such things' Helbrandt said finally, regret evident in his strained voice

Alric suddenly felt a prodding feeling of guilt, it had been at his hand that Ulli of the Karg had finally met his end, a quick and inglorious end meted out from the barrel of a rifle. The two men had not talked about it since their arrival in Syrixia, the chaos of meetings and travel proving an apt distraction, now on the wharf of Kalety, the opportunity could no longer be ignored.

'Do you resent me for killing your cousin?' Alric asked gently

Helbrandt held his gaze for a moment, eyes filled with a mix of emotions, Anger, regret, sorrow and perhaps finally relief 'No, I may have once, but time has proven a wise counsel, I would have followed Ulli to the death...but he was still a fool who started a war he could not win' he said in a tired voice as though admitting his feelings had been a great exertion

'We will build a better world, our Essalanea will never again see clan butcher clan' Alric said grasping Helbrandts hand in the manner of an oath giving

'True to Essalan' Helbrandt replied with a sudden grin spreading across his bearded features as he completed the traditional blessing

The waiter returned with more coffee, this time they were in steel rather than porcelain vessels, Helbrandt reached for the Espresso and gulped down the black liquid, dents appearing on the side of the cup, the waiter rolled his eyes in exasperation and retreated back inside.

'Heres Hoping the New Essalanea imports coffee' Helbrandt said a hyperactive grin filling his wild face

Alric smiled and gazed out at the bay, Essalanea beckoned from somewhere across the expanse.

The limousine had dropped Magnus off at the Prydanian embassy before continuing to its Norsian counterpart. Tobias cracked open another small bottle of water. It felt good. After all day in the heat of those ruins? Even the crowded, hot streets of Pataliputra felt refreshing. Not to say he hadn’t had an informative trip. He just could have done with some more cloud cover.

The trip between embassies wasn’t nearly as bad as one would expect in a Pataliputra afternoon. Sections of the city were blocked off for ease of travel for visiting dignitaries. Tobias didn’t mind that, honestly. He enjoyed being able to drive a just a few blocks to visit the love of his life. And he enjoyed the press being kept away, if only for a bit.
He looked out the window as the limousine flying Prydanian royal standards pulled past the front gates of the Norsian embassy. He could see the Norsian sharpshooters patrolling the building’s roof. Soldiers. Like his own, who had served their country during a devastating war. Now serving again, in peace. The transition to peace had been on his mind somewhat but he let the thought pass.

He was quickly escorted into the building by how own Knights of the Storm, who dutifully waited as he departed them to travel further into the building. “Thank you, both of you” he said a bit nervously before turning. The Norsian embassy was like its Prydanian counterpart in so far as it attempted to recreate home in this strange land.

“Her Grace is expecting you, Your Majesty” Colart replied with a respectful bow. The man still terrified him, but in a calming way. More afraid of what he was capable of than fear for his own safety.
"If you'll follow me..."
Tobias followed as instructed, letting his eyes wander as he took in the Norsian embassy's surroundings. His heart beat picked up as his eyes darted from picture to picture, from bust of statesman to bust of statesman. He was putting off something he wanted to do for a while and now...now was as good a time as any.
"May I ask you a question?" he asked Colart.

"Anything, Your Majesty" Colart replied with a shrug, not letting his pace slow.

The man had said anything. Tobias still wasn't sure but...
"How do you feel about me?" he asked. Colart stopped, turning slowly.

"What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

Tobias signed a bit as his heart rate rose just a bit more.
"I mean...Aly...Alycia and I have been growing close and..."

"You want to know if I like you?" Colart replied.

"Um...I guess I want to know if you can stand me" Tobias replied with a nervous chuckle.
"You pretty much told me off when Alycia and I first met, back in Beaconsviði."

"Because you deserved it, Your Majesty" Colart replied quickly.

"I never said I didn't" Tobias replied, just as quickly. Colart smiled, letting only a "heh" escape his lips for a moment.

"That woman, I've known her since she was a little girl. I've protected her all her life. I want her to be safe and happy, Your Majesty. I said what I said because I was looking out for her. Since then?" He shrugged.
"Since then I've come to see how happy you make her. And that's all I could ask of anyone in your situation. My only problem was how long it took you to admit how you felt."

Tobias could swear Colar had stepped closer to him. He felt like he did anyway. The man had a way of...imposing himself...on you.

"But you managed it in the end," he added with a smirk.
"And Her Grace is very happy. If you are going to be my King one day? I'll serve you as I have her. You're good to her, that's what matters, ultimately."

Tobias nodded with a smile.
"Thank you" he said, his nerves relaxing.
"I...well...that means a lot coming from you."

"I'm glad, Your Majesty" Colart replied as he turned.
"This way, please."

“Your Grace” Colart said, opening the door to Alycia’s study.
“His Majesty King Tobias has arrived.” Tobias followed in after Colart. It had only been a few hours...he’d left for the tour that morning...but he’d missed her deeply.
“Hello Aly” he said with a soft smile. “I couldn't wait to get back.”

Following initial greetings, the various heads of government of the Commonwealth countries piled into the gallery of the chambers of Congress, alongside various other minor officials and VIPs. Congress itself had not convened- its chambers had been ordered by the Emperor to be vacated on this day so the Commonwealth Council, as it had done for decades, could elect its next leader. Soon after, that same Emperor entered the room following the sounding of the Imperial Fanfare. The Emperor then took his spot at the lectern at the front of the massive chamber. As Head of the Commonwealth and on this special occasion, he would open the council. The election would be broadcast to the entire Commonwealth, beyond the seas.

"Friends, councilors, officials, heads of government, citizens of the Empire and Commonwealth," the Emperor stated, in his usual booming voice. "we gather today for a special occasion. Normally, this election occurs quickly and without much pageantry, as it has occurred by and large since the signing of the Charter. But today, with the eyes of the world on you, the Council, in this hallowed week, it occurs here. It is therefore with great pride that on behalf of the Secretary-General and as Head of this Commonwealth I hereby open the April 2019 Secretary-General election. We will now hear declarations of candidacy."

"Your Majesty, I can say on behalf of all of us this Council is deeply honored by your presence." Roshni replied. "I would be remiss if, at this important moment in the history of Empire and Commonwealth, I did not declare my candidacy."

An inquisitive smirk came on Rajesh's face- not enough to see clearly but it was there. She was running again. Two times in a row.

"I therefore choose to be remiss." she continued, however. "As Secretary-General Misra stated last November, the Secretary-General is meant to represent the regular people that make up the Commonwealth nations, not just the Empire. This organization, bloc, whatever you wish to call it, is about all of us. Our history, our culture, our friendship as states and nations. At this moment in history I believe that is more apparent than ever."

"I therefore nominate, as the man who will lead the Commonwealth into the future, Secretary-General Misra for re-election."

Denis chimed in.

“I second the nomination of Secretary-General Misra for re-election.”

Imber Barak, Agastya Yameshm, and Avrohom Kadish made up the Iraelian delegation, Barak the only one who had any experience in Commonwealth matters when it came to procedure. Yet that wasn't really what today was about.

"I don't suspect you'd want to run again, Imber?" Agastya asked, causing Imber to roll his eyes.

"I never ran last time. I just got stuck with it" he sighed.

"I heard you did well" Avrohom replied, not breaking his gaze as he looked dead ahead at where the Emperor would be sitting.
"You filled the term out well enough. The Commonwealth didn't collapse."

Imber just chuckled.

"What?" Avrohom replied.
"You think that's silly? You led an international organization and didn't start any wars, that's better than some people."

"I appreciate it, but to the Prime Minister's question, I won't be putting my name forward."

"Azad?" Avrohom asked.

"Azad" Agastya replied.
"The Cabinet wants her backed."

"Understood" Barak replied, soon to be followed by the Imperial fanfare.

The Iraelian delegation sat patiently, listening to the Emperor's address before Roshni Azad dropped her bombshell. She wasn't running. Barak looked to the Prime Minister and Governor-General, the latter of which gave him a "I don't know" look.

Barak, not wanting to be seen whispering to his countrymen in the presence of the Emperor, stood.
"Your Majesty, I would like to echo the sentiments of Delegate Azad. We are honoured by your presence given the importance of this celebration. And it is with pride that I echoe Delegate Aubert's nomination. We support the nomination of Secretary-General Misra."

"Misra proved to be a fair and stable Secretary-General," Locan said, adjusting his crimson tie. "Not once did the Commonwealth risk demise or unevenness under his administration. Not once did I feel he ignored my opinion or betrayed my trust. He dealt with all situations with a balanced disposition and a prudent mindset. That is truly representative of what this Commonwealth hopes to achieve: politic solutions to the most compromising of circumstances.

“If we are to continue to sustain this organization, we need a Guslant like Misra to lead the way. I, therefore, support Misra’s renomination as Secretary-General. Godspeed.”

Misra stood and addressed the Commonwealth.

“My first honor was bestowed to me when I was asked by four brilliant governors, including my mentor, Ms. Yan Lin Leng to serve as the Guslant representative to the Commonwealth,” he began.

Abigail tried to hide her disgust at the mention of Leng.

“The second honor was bestowed to me when I was selected by my peers gathered here today to be the Secretary-General of this wonderful alliance,” he continued.

“Guslantis is a powerful nation and one as diverse as the Commonwealth itself. I will personally ensure the nations here today that this term will be prosperous for all nations of our great Commonwealth. I accept my nomination for Secretary-General of the Commonwealth and all the powers vested in the office,” said Misra, smiling.

The Predicean Commonwealth Councillor chimes in "I will vote for Misra"

Algon Chopra took a few moments, whispering with Edrik Vants, as the other’s who were present gave their opinions. Satisfied with what the commonwealth rep had to say Algon spoke up in turn.

“Austalgotha will support Misra for reelection. We have no objections.”

Nation (Full name): Federal Republic of Aciera
Commonwealth Member?: YES
Delegate(s) Attending: Salveo Faci, Roberto Paolo Chieri
Lodging of Choice: Acieran Embassy
Special Requests: N/A
Any additional comments: N/A

"Seeing as there are no additional candidates nor is there any opposition for a second term for Councilor Misra," the Emperor stated after a pause, "I believe these proceedings can be called. It is my honor as Head of the Commonwealth to invite Councilor Misra for a second term as Secretary-General."

After a brief applause and pleasantries amongst the Council, the heads of government of the Commonwealth nations began to make their way back into the designated meeting chamber. Usually, during Commonwealth Heads of Government Meetings, the actual meeting portion, which followed the photo-op, would see delegates briefing the rest of the Commonwealth about initiatives in their nation, followed by the assembly proposing and agreeing upon goals for the Commonwealth as a whole.

Diwan Sahab sat. "I think we should get right to business, and for good reason. The Empire has an initiative to propose this year of great gravity. As you know, recently we have witnessed a spike in world terrorism. From the Modergen attacks to the attacks on the Ghavari Nightclub in McMasterdonia to the attacks in Sarazed and much more, dangerous rabblerousers have seen fit to attempt to dismantle the international order, with the intent of achieving various destabilizing and inhuman ends. I would be interested in hearing your thoughts on a Commonwealth Initiative on terrorism; so we may ensure the security of our nations and our allies, and fight back against the rampant fear that these individuals wish to cause."

Okeke raised his hand. "What is the degree of directness, if you will? Will our members and allies be directly receiving the military assistance or assets they need to counter terrorism, or are we going for more of an indirect apporach such as financial support and encouragement?"

"That would be something for the Council to decide in its specific plan proposal, should this initiative go forward." Diwan Sahab replied. "I can say, though, Mr. Okeke, that I think both options should be available to members to contribute to counterterrorism efforts within the Commonwealth in whatever way they choose. As with any Commonwealth Initiative, what the Empire is proposing here is a benchmark and a foundation."