My Father, and His Father Before

Ygor winced as the doctor fitted the prosthetic snuggly against the stump just beneath his elbow. The polished black metal and plastic looked nice enough, but he would have preferred to have kept his hand. The aged physician connected a few wires and made some minor adjustments before taking a step back to examine the positioning. A feeling of great pity overtook him as he looked upon Ygor's scarred face. The missing eye and large scar that now ran down the side of his head a cruel reminder of the furious melee with Augustus.


"Try to open and close the fingers. It will take some getting used to, but in time, and with practice, it should function almost like the real thing." the kind doctor told him.


Ygor looked up at him, and then over to Sophija, who sat in the corner watching before turning his attention back to the lifeless form strapped to his forearm that rested on his knee. He smirked as the pinky finger twitched promisingly, followed by some small movements from the other fingers. Within a few minutes, he was able to snap the fingers open and closed, but lacked any sort of fine motor control.


"Try this." Sophija said quietly, holding out a glass of water loosely around the rim. Ygor cautiously reached out, being careful to mind the actual distance. When the fingers were just about touching the glass, he hesitated a moment, looking at his daughter.


"Dad, you gotta try." she urged.


Ygor gave her a firm nod, and willed the fingers to close. He let out a small chuckle as he successfully gripped the glass and brought it towards his lips. He took a small sip from the glass, and pulled it away, a look of pride in his eyes. Suddenly he could hear the whirring of the motors and servos in the prosthetic, and the fingers slammed shut, shattering the glass.


"Fuck." he muttered, pounding the prosthetic against his leg.


"Dad, it's ok. It's like Dr. K said, it'll take time. Tagtaryev wasn't built in a day." she assured him, a soft smile hugging her lips as she looked upon the war ravaged hulk that her father had become.


"Yeah. I know, kiddo. It's just frustrating." he sighed, opening and closing the fingers one by one.


It had been 8 months since the Imperium had withdrawn from the shores of Yamantau, but for Ygor, the war would never truly be over. With everything he lost, the fact that he let Leon get away, it weighed on him heavily. The scar that ran from the back of his head over the top of his ear, and through his eye a savage parting gift from Augustus. He could still hear the steel of the gladius sing as it cut through the air towards him.


He rose from his chair with some difficulty, the fracture in his hip hadn't healed quite right, and now there was a dull clicking that emanated from it when he turned too quickly, or moved the leg the wrong way. He kept his head shaved now, as the scarring had created a rather embarrassing bald patch, and it was better to have no hair than to look like a leper on the side of the road. He was still an impressively large man, even though he carried himself with a slight hunch now.


"How have the painkillers been working?" The doctor inquired, taking up the clipboard he had earlier placed on Ygor's dresser.


"Uh...they don't, really. They keep my back and hip from feeling like they lock up, but the pain is fairly constant. It hurts more when the weather is cold, but other than that, there's not much change." Ygor replied glumly, his oddly timed footsteps half thumping and half scraping across the hardwood floor as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his coat that was draped on a rack near the door. He clumsily removed one from the pack using his good hand, and tucked it into the corner of his mouth before digging in the pocket of his pants for a lighter.


"I see you have also been unable to quit smoking. Have you at least cut back like I recommended?" The doctor nagged, peering at Ygor over the gold rims of his glasses.


Ygor shook his head as he lit it, dropping the cheap blue plastic lighter back into his pocket.


"That is unfortunate.'' the doctor sighed, scratching his salt and pepper moustache as he jotted down some quick notes on the clipboard.


"And have you been taking the sleeping pills? Have the nightmares gotten any less frequent?" the doctor asked after a long pause as he inspected the patient chart.


"Yeah. They do help. I don't really dream at all anymore. Sleep quality is ok too, but it's hard to find a comfortable position." Ygor answered.


"With the damage to your body, that doesn't surprise me." the doctor said sympathetically. The old man tapped his pen on the clipboard a few times in quick succession before he turned to Ygor once more. "How are the antidepressants working?" he asked.


"They work ok. Sort of just level everything out more than fully change my mood if that makes sense." Ygor replied, crossing to the doors of the balcony that overlooked the courtyard; the Honour Guard that patrolled the grounds visible against the snowy backdrop by their black parkas.


"That's about normal, if we're being quite honest. They're not meant to turn you into Mr. Happy." the doctor explained.


Ygor acknowledged the statement with a soft grunt as he flicked the ashes of his cigarette out the balcony door. He looked off to the far corner of the courtyard, where Marija's gravestone stood, reaching up to the chain around his neck where he kept their wedding rings.


"Are there any other concerns before I leave, Ygor?" Dr. Kozlow asked.


"Mm? No." Ygor replied stiffly. "But thank you for the hand, doctor." he finished.


"Its not a problem. The manufacturer was happy to build it." the doctor assured him cheerfully "Call me if there are any issues with it, or if you have any other issues regarding your medications." he continued, putting on his hat and coat before heading to the door. He turned back once more, casting a solemn glance towards Sophija. "Make sure he actually takes the antidepressants." he whispered sternly.


Sophija dug into the coat of Ygor's pocket and grabbed the cigarettes as soon as the doctor left and lit one for herself, taking a long drag and watching the smoke trail off towards the frescoed ceiling as she exhaled.


"You know you're too young to be smoking." Ygor rasped, still staring off into the courtyard.


"Yeah, I know, but it helps with the anxiety." she responded with a cool tone.


"Come." Ygor said quietly, motioning her over to him.


Sophija slid from the chair and wandered over next to her father.


"Tell me what you see." he said, casting a glance down to her as he pulled her in front of him.


"Snow, rocks, guardsmen, mothers grave." she told him, somewhat confused as to the purpose of his questioning.


"Look beyond that, over the walls." he told her.


She focused beyond the tops of the red stone walls that surrounded the courtyard, out into the city.


"I see Tagtaryeva. I see the smoke from the factories, and the spires of the cathedral, the rooftops of the houses." she said after some time.


"No. Really look." he urged.


"Dad, I am...I…" she sputtered, the frustration rising in her voice.


"All these things, they are the people. The people who need us now more than ever. Irena is doing her part from Hremansk, but we still have much work to do as the new royal family. They look to us as symbols now, so when you look to them, do not see only their works, but see them, Sophija. Do you understand?" he asked, turning her around to face him.


"We must see what others do not now." he said with a pained smile. "Just...keep that in mind, now, run along, I have some matters to discuss with Nicolai in the library, and...I know you don't like Carolus, but please….it's for your own good." he continued, his face understanding but stern.


Sophija rolled her eyes and nodded before making her way to the door, pausing at the dresser to pick up the bottle of antidepressants and shake them at Ygor, a gentle reminder to take them. He waved her off jokingly as she exited.


As she emerged into the marble halls, she could already sense the lurking Ephyran, with his vile fangs and blood red eyes.


"Come on, let's go." she sighed.


Carolus emerged from the shadows halfway down the hall, his head shrouded by the black hood that fell along his shoulders, attached to the cloak underneath his armor. The chest plate still bore the marks of his encounter with Countess Elizabeth. She knew that encounter had taken more from him than she would ever understand, and she felt great pity for him, and his lost love, but the permanent snarl plastered across his face, and the heavy breathing made him a gruesome companion. He spoke very seldomly, but when he did, she could hear the intelligence and the love in his words. He spoke mostly to Omar, who Sophija guessed was his son, or at least and adopted child. The hand cannon that dangled from his hip was a reminder that he was a bodyguard, not a friend, and if he had not been honour bound by his word to Willa, he would likely turn the weapon on anyone he deemed unworthy of continuing their worldly presence.


"Where are we going?" he grunted, striding alongside her.


"I don't know, no classes today, so….the market?" she asked rhetorically.


He nodded, and followed along silently.

"Are the markets in Ephyra like this?" Sophija inquired of her monstrous protector.


"No. They are more colorful in Ephyra, and the people look happier." Carolus replied coldly, striding alongside his teenage ward.


He didn't like Tagtaryev, with its off-putting brutalist architecture superimposed on its ancient glory, and it's streets that smelled of refuse and piss.


"I'd like to go there some day." Sophija continued, trying her hardest to get anything out of Carolus, even a smile would be a nice change from his usual miserable scowl.


"Its a different world, and a lifetime ago for me." he said, ignoring the girl's attempts at friendly conversation.


Sophija rolled her eyes and continued on, stopping at different stalls, browsing their goods. Most of it was cheap counterfeit crap, but it still had its own charm. Carolus seemed more occupied with scanning their surroundings for threats, resting his hand on top of the pistol on his hip.


"Why do you carry that? Aren't you some sort of vampiric murder machine?" Sophija prodded, raising an eyebrow.


"Yes, but fifty caliber is effective from a greater distance than my hands." he remarked.


"You are fucking terrifying." she whispered to herself, thumbing through old records that sat in a dusty yellow milk crate at one of the stalls.


"You know I can hear you, right?" Carolus asked, Sophija ignoring his feigned offense.


Sophija looked up, catching sight of an Ephyran vendor selling some sort of bowl heaped high with colorful tropical fruit and what she assumed was ice cream or frozen yogurt.


"You still eat, like, people food, right?" Sophija asked, turning to face him.


Carolus stared back silently with an exasperated gaze. "Yes. I still eat people food, Sophija." he said mockingly.


"Cool! Now quit being a dick and we'll go get whatever that is." she laughed, pointing towards the Ephyran vendor.


Carolus followed along quietly until they reached the cart, which was being run by a happy looking elderly Ephyran man, who Carolus greeted with a stiff nod as he brought his hands up to his forehead. The old man returned the gesture with a smile and went about shaving the ice into the paper bowls, dousing it in some manner of sticky orange syrup, and piling on the carefully diced fruit, before topping it off with two massive scoops of purple ice cream. Sophija thanked him, giving him a fistful of wrinkled 5 tarkoe bills before the pair made their way to a low wall along the edge of the market.


Sophija hopped up onto the top of the low wall, while Carolus leaned against it.


"So what is this?" Sophija asked, poking at the pile of fruit with the little clear plastic spoon the old man had given her.


"Halo Waeh. It's shaved ice, orange syrup, mango, pineapple, guava, dragonfruit, coconut, and purple yam ice cream." he answered, happily eating a few spoonfuls of the dessert.


"Yam ice cream? Dude, what?" she laughed, before trying a bit from the end of the spoon. "Yeah, ok, fair. That's pretty good." she admitted, nodding her approval.


"Yeah, ain't terrible…and thanks. I haven't had this since I was a kid." Carolus laughed back.


Sophija smiled as she chewed a mouthful of pineapple and coconut; that was the first time she had ever heard him laugh.


____________________________________


"So she's going to die?" Nicolai asked grimly, leaning back in his chair.


"There's no other way, Nick." Ygor replied gravely, taking another puff from his cigarette.


"You disappoint me, Ygor. I thought you'd be better than this at this point in your life. Your sister would be so upset with you." Nicolai scolded him. Nicolai Bodnarchuk was the only person in Yamantau who could get away with talking to Ygor Szubrov that way, and he knew it.


"Yeah, well, Willa isn't around anymore to say different, thanks to that Ephyran bitch that was swinging off Carolus' dick." Ygor replied.


Nicolai's expression turned from one of fatherly disapproval to one of rage. "That poor girl isn't responsible for Willa's death, or your mother's! She was a good woman, and a better friend than most men would be deserving of!" Nicolai shouted, throwing a book at Ygor.


Ygor moved his head quickly, pointing an accusing finger at the old man as the heavy, leather bound volume crashed against the wall behind him. Ygor sucked his teeth as he slowly lowered the finger, his eyes wide with both shock and anger.


"She is sitting in a seat of power now, paid for with my family's blood." Ygor growled menacingly.


"I lost my wife in that shit show too, but I don't blame Alara, someone who was just trying to help, god damn it!" Nicolai shouted back, rising from his seat with another book in hand. "Now shut your mouth, because I won't miss again, you little asshole."


Ygor locked eyes with him, nodding quietly. If he said one more word while Nicolai still had that book in his hand, he would have a broken nose to deal with as well. Nicolai took a few deep breaths and slowly returned to his seat.


"Now, why do you need Irena dead so badly?" Nicolai asked, his tone demanding.


"She knows too much, Nicolai. She is a liability going forward." Ygor replied coldly.


"That makes me think my days are numbered too, old friend." Nicolai said, voicing a very valid concern.


"You have nothing to worry about. If you wanted to fuck me over, you would have done it 30 years ago, I know that." Ygor assured him.


"So how are you going to do this?" Nicolai questioned.


"Tonight. I've hired a professional. We'll write it off as a terrible accident." Ygor answered nonchalantly.


"How can you be so cold?" Nicolai spat, his wrinkled face red with anger. He slowly rose from the chair, and shuffled towards the door, taking a moment to look back at Ygor. "I WILL HAVE NO PART IN THIS! NONE!" he shouted, slamming the door of the library behind him.


Ygor stared off into the corner of the room unphased. If killing everyone he had held dear meant paving the way for his daughter, he would do it.

Sophija sat quietly on the floor with her back against her bed staring out the tall, narrow window in her bedroom that looked out over old Tagtaryeva. She listened to Misha's quiet breathing as he sat between her legs, her arms wrapped around him. He had cried himself to sleep after Ygor told him about Irena; it took Sophija hours to console him. She gently stroked his hair and continued humming the tune that had finally lulled him to sleep. Her gaze never broke from the window, right up until the mercy of sleep overtook her. She awoke in the morning with Misha clinging to her shirt, and a blanket draped on top of them. Sophija reached up and rubbed her eyes before grabbing her phone to check the time.


7:36 in the morning.


She moved gently, scooping Misha up and placing him in her bed, covering him with the blanket before tiptoeing out of the room, trying as hard as possible to close the door without making any noise. When she finally heard the door click into place, she turned to make her way to the kitchen, running smack dab into Carolus. He had approached so silently that she jumped back in terror at the lumbering Ephyran. He wasn't even dressed yet, wandering the halls in his tank top and sweat pants. He placed his finger to his lips and nodded towards the stairs, motioning her to follow him. She pulled her hoodie closer around her shoulders and padded silently alongside him, her oversized plaid pajama pants getting stuck around her feet every so often, forcing her to pull them up at the knee, like a fanciful lady ascending the stairs in one of those god awful gowns.


Carolus held the door for her, motioning her inside. "Decaf, dark roast, what?" she whispered, grabbing a pair of old mugs from the cupboard. "Dark roast." he mumbled, leaning on the counter. She tossed a pod of dark roast coffee into the single serve coffee maker, and waited for it to finish whirring and vibrating as it made the coffee. She slid the coffee across the counter to Carolus, who gave a small nod of thanks. "You're quieter than usual today." she remarked, observing the Ephyran's distant stare, that kind of stare she had seen from veterans of the war.


"Listen kid…" Carolus began, his tone soft, like he was about to drop an absolute bombshell on her. "What?" she asked impatiently. He let out a deep sigh and pointed to a chair at the kitchen island. She raised an eyebrow and slowly sank down into the wooden chair, holding her coffee in both hands. "It's….it's about Irena." Carolus told her.


"Dad had her killed." she stated blankly. Staring back at his shocked gaze. "Yeah, I know. I knew as soon as they said a has explosion. I was living in that penthouse when they converted everything to solar electric. There were no more gas lines in Hremansk." she continued, her lip starting to quiver, and the tears began welling in her eyes. Carolus nodded slowly, she was a smart kid, and she was probably all too used to her father's murderous antics. "Nicolai told me this morning. He's an absolute wreck. He's…blaming your dad for everything that's happened to him, to both of us actually. He had to put him to sleep, let the booze work its way out of his system." Carolus finally replied.


Sophija quickly turned her head and took a deep breath in, slowly letting it out to try and steady herself before she carried the conversation any further. "He wasn't always this bad." she croaked through the lump in her throat, pushing the coffee cup away across the counter. "He used to be good. He argued with Volodymyr a lot, but he was good. He took care of Mom and me, and made sure we were happy. Ever since he made himself Tzar he just…" she trailed off, letting her face drop into her hands, sobbing gently. Carolus exhaled sharply, circling the kitchen island and wrapping his arms around her. She clung to his immense forearms and began to sob uncontrollably as he just held her and let her get it all out. Despite his cold demeanor, he did care about Sophija, and seeing someone so young who had been thrust into such a violent sphere was heartbreaking. He had heard stories of Ygor forcing her to execute two radicals a couple years back, when she was around fourteen. Hell of a thing to put your own child through.


Eventually she grew quiet, gently sniffling from time to time as she stared vacantly at the now cold coffees on the counter. "I wish he was dead." she whispered. "You don't mean that." Carolus replied. She pushed his arms away and turned to face him, her eyes a mix of valkyric fury and intangible sadness. "I do." she assured him. "I can't have a normal life because of him. I can't just go out with my friends, or on a date, or just…be…I'm the Tzar's daughter, with my eight foot bodyguard in my ivory tower. I never wanted this!" she growled angrily, using her hands to emphasize.


Carolus shook his head sadly and chalked it up as grief. "So what's the play today then? Just hang out with Misha?" Carolus asked. Sophija nodded and grabbed her coffee, taking a long sip from the faded coral mug. "I have to talk to your dad about something he wants me to do today. Wouldn't tell me anything about it last night, said it could wait for today." he told her, dumping the rest of his coffee out in the sink. "Jesus….who's he's killing next…" Sophija sighed. "Don't fucking say that, for all I know, he's gonna ask me to shoot the kid." he said sternly.


Sophija snapped up to look at him, "You wouldn't, would you?" she demanded to know. Carolus sat quietly and looked back at her, shaking his head. "No." he replied, even though he didn't know what he would do if Ygor made that call. Fight? Take the kid and run? Fuck….


"You got a smoke?" Sophija asked, interrupting the spiraling anxiety of Carolus' train of thought. Carolus tossed her a cigarette and handed her the cheap orange plastic lighter from his pocket, taking one for himself. "You're too young to be smoking, y'know." Carolus jabbed, lighting his own as he leaned on the counter. "And you're too big to drive a car. What's your point?" she poked back as she exhaled. He let out a laughing scoff as he smiled. "Yeah, ok, fair, but only because Yamanta cars are made for dwarves, not the genetically superior." he laughed. "Who are you calling a dwarf, you bridge troll?" she replied, trying to hide her smile with her sleeve.


"Bridge troll? Child, I will have you know I am a mountain troll thank you very much. So racist, not all Ephyrans look the same." he remarked, feigning offense. Sophija smiled and shook her head. The pair both looked to the kitchen door as it swung open, the staff slowly making their way in to prepare Ygor his usual 10am breakfast, even though he'd likely been stalking the halls all night. The pair nodded to one another and made their way out of the kitchen, letting the staff do their work in peace. "Wanna go get the kid and come hang out for a bit? Omar should be up and around soon I'd imagine, Misha likes Omar." Carolus said invitingly.


"Sure, I've got nothing else really going on today." Sophija replied, trying to hide a sort of excitement. This was the first time Carolus had invited her, well….anywhere, and she had always been curious about his living area. The two wandered back towards Sophija's room and retrieved the still sleeping Misha, who Carolus carried delicately in his arms as they made their way back. Carolus' living quarters were over what used to be the stables, which had long since been repurposed into a garage. He shared the space with Omar, who had his own room and his own space. Omar had matured quickly, even by Ephyran standards, already looking like a boy of about sixteen. The Ephyrans had no true concept of age, basing their assumption of age on how their tribesmen behaved and contributed. To Carolus, Omar was already a man by Ephyran standards, cursed to carry the same burden as Carolus.


Sophija jogged ahead to get the door as Carolus stooped to enter, quietly placing Misha on the couch that sat in the middle of the room. Omar stood in the small kitchenette eating a bowl of cereal, giving the pair a quick smile as they entered. Carolus strolled over and feigned a punch directed at Omar's face, who barely registered it, and kept on eating his cereal. "What's good today, fam?" Omar asked, initiating some manner of complex handshake the two of them had engineered. "Hanging out with Sophija and Misha, hoping you could kick it with little man for a bit today, try to keep his mind off shit." Carolus replied. "Yeah, I got you for sure." Omar said with a smile. Sophija let out a small giggle as she watched them, it was so strange to see them just be natural with one another. Omar looked her up and down in her white hoodie and oversized pajamas and gave her a toothy grin. "Sophie, lovely as ever." Omar remarked with a smirk. Sophija blushed and shook her head. It was no secret the two had a thing for one another, but Carolus had remained adamant that Omar not pursue her. "Omar, such a gentleman." she said sarcastically, pulling the pockets of the pants to either side and mockingly dipping into a low curtsey.


Omar rolled his head along his shoulders to look back at Carolus, who glared back at him and shook his head. "C'mon bro!" Omar pleaded quietly. "No, fucker!" Carolus hissed back. "So, what exactly is the relationship between you two? I've never been able to figure it out." Sophija inquired, grabbing another cigarette from the pack that Carolus had thrown on the counter. "He's my me'wapi. My god son." Carolus replied, again tossing Sophija the little orange lighter. "My parents got smoked during the war, so Alara and Carolus took me in." Omar explained, before noisily draining the milk from the bowl.


"Ah, I see." Sophija said flatly, somewhat taken off guard by Omar's statement. "Oh! Yo!" Omar exclaimed, snapping his fingers as he pointed at Carolus. "Has she seen The Judge?" he continued. Carolus laughed and shook his head, looking back to Sophija. He paused for a moment before pushing off the counter. "You wanna see something cool?" he asked with a raised brow.


"I mean, yeah, usually." she answered with a smile. Carolus waved her along, and proceeded to a door on the far side of the living room. The door opened to a set of stairs that wrapped around and went down to the garage, the pair happily skipped down the steps and entered the dimly lit room. Carolus reached over and flicked the light switch, the buzz of the incandescent bulbs slowly coming to life filled the room.


"What the hell is that?" Sophija asked, pointing out the obvious elephant in the room: a massive black armored vehicle that looked vaguely like a dune buggy had been weaponized and covered with enough armor to give a tank a run for its money. "That's The Judge. It's an Ephyran derby car. Meant to compete in the Palau, a week long race all over Ephyra, but you're allowed to…you know, smash the shit out of the other cars. I had my cousin send me all the pieces to put it together myself." he said proudly.


"I want to drive it." Sophija stated, awestruck. "Let me deal with whatever your dad wants, and then we'll try to figure out how to make that happen." Carolus laughed. For now, he could take solace enough in this moment of friendship, but still, his thoughts wandered on what grim task Ygor would ask of him.

Carolus sat against the stack of tires in the corner of the garage, looking at the rifle that sat on the nearby workbench, contemplating its purpose. It had become his preferred tool for dispatching Ygor's chosen enemies in the last few months, but something about it never sat right with him. He understood all manner of weapons, he understood the simple knife, meant to slash, slice, and stab. He understood the purpose of a five hundred pound JDAM meant to level a building. This rifle, he guessed, had no purpose other than to be used as an instrument of hateful vengeance, but he also knew that it was useless without someone behind the trigger. Was he correct in assuming that it was he himself that was the true tool of unjust slaughter? Maybe so, but he knew his time with Ygor was running out.


He could still see Sophija's blackened eyes and shattered nose as he opened the door to a gentle knock a few days prior. Beaten senseless by her father for daring to question his madness. He couldn't do anything but hold the shaking girl and assure her that everything would be alright. He had decided at that moment that his duty was to Sophija, not Ygor, and if keeping her safe meant killing him, he would. He had been letting her sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch since then, while Ygor went on yet another tour around the nation, flaunting his wealth and power. He would return in eighteen hours, and Carolus planned for Ygor to only draw breath for twenty-four at most.


Carolus let his head fall back against the cold, hard rubber tires and closed his eyes, picturing the cliffs overlooking the sea between Ephyra and Prydania, the smell of salt on the air as he hunted moose through the dense forests. He pictured Alara standing naked in her kitchen in Pua Pua, the early morning sun casting a radiant glow on her soft skin as it peeked its way through the kitchen window. He would always remember her that way, not as what she became. In his heart, he would always love her, until the day he finally left this world behind. The reality of his mortality crashed against his psyche like waves against the shore. He knew he may well die in his attempt to kill Ygor, or he may live until the earth beneath his feet gave way to the cold, uncaring cosmos in a flash of cataclysmic fury. It didn't matter to him now, only that his duty to Sophija would be fulfilled. As long as he killed Ygor Szubrov, his promise wouldn't be broken. Upon his death, she would become Tzarina, and be safe for the rest of her days, safe from Ygor at least. She would be thrown into the international snake pit of politics, but she was smart, and strong.


He took a deep breath before opening his eyes and checking his watch. Seventeen hours. Ygor's schedule was exact, a tyrant, but always right on time. Carolus went over the plan in his head again, as he had a hundred times in the last few days.


Ygor would arrive at the gates of Tagtaryev Castle at 16:00, and immediately enter the castle, likely going straight to his study. He would take his dinner at 18:00, followed by a drink in the library at 19:30, he would remain there until he retreated to his chambers around 23:00, and would likely be asleep shortly after.


Carolus looked at the rifle again. He considered turning Ygor's head to a fine pink mist as soon as he stepped foot out of the vehicle, but that was risky, he would certainly be gunned down almost immediately. He plotted on how to poison Ygor's food or drink, but the chef wouldn't allow anyone in the kitchen while he was working. The footman that usually brought Ygor his nightly drink would never let the glass or decanter out of his sight for long either. Carolus let out an aggravated sigh, he had almost resigned himself to death before something caught his attention. The magazine for the rifle sat next to a faded green ammo pale, the shiny brass shells the size of a baton gleaming in the dim light of the garage. He rose from the concrete and crossed to the table, picking up one of the rounds, holding it in his hand. It looked an awful lot like…


"A stake." Carolus mused. The irony wasn't lost on him. Killing a vampire with a stake, how cliche could it get? Carolus nodded to himself. It was safe, it would work, and he could slip in and out of the room quietly enough so as to not arouse suspicion too soon. Yeah, that would work.


Content with his course of action, Carolus returned upstairs, and settled in on the couch to catch some sleep. His dreams brought no ease to his soul, the imagined image of Ygor gasping for air under his grasp playing over and over on the back of his eyelids like a silent movie as he sat as the lone patron in a long abandoned theater. He was shaken awake by Omar and Sophija around eight in the morning, the pair of them looking terrified as they stepped back several paces.


"You were like, screaming at the top of your lungs…" Sophija told him, her eyes wide. Carolus rose to a sitting position and put his head in his hands, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.


"Why are you screaming about killing Ygor?" Omar asked sheepishly, Carolus snapping his head up to look at both of them, his glance darting back and forth between them before he let out the breath he had been holding.


"Because I'm going to." Carolus stated flatly, sinking back into the couch, regarding the two teenagers for a moment before patting the spots on either side of him, motioning for them to sit. The stunned pair slowly did as they were told, their focus on Carolus.


"Listen…I'm not doing this out of anger. I'm doing this because it needs to be done. He's a monster, a tyrant. Anyone who disagrees with him dies, or gets dragged off to Hlinka or Tremina to get worked to death in the labor camps. He's no better than the man he replaced. He is a man who would beat his own daughter almost to death over a minor disagreement. It can't keep going on. He can't keep murdering people, or forcing other people to do it for him. I'm not doing this out of anger, I'm doing this out of duty, and love. My duty is to both of you, because I care about both of you, and I need to keep you safe. If that means my life for yours? So be it. Sophija, I know he's your dad, but…." Carolus trailed off, staring dead ahead at the blank TV.


"Carolus…" she said softly, laying her hand on his arm. "That man isn't my father anymore. He hasn't been since we came here. The man that calls himself Tzar is Ygor Szubrov, but he isn't my dad anymore. I see what he's done to us, to my people, to our people, and I know it has to stop." she assured him through teary eyes.


"Then I do this with your blessing?" Carolus asked.


Sophija stared into his eyes, taking a moment to truly consider what he was saying. The tears began to stream down her cheeks as a single word escaped.


"Yes."


Carolus wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, Omar hugging him from the other side. Sophija sniffled as she buried her head into his chest, taking solace in the embrace of her protector.


"How are you going to do it?" she croaked, not truly knowing if she wanted an answer.


"While he sleeps." Carolus said softly, refusing to go into details. It was enough to know your parent is slated to die, it would likely push her over the edge to know the means.


Sophija nodded and croaked out an inaudible response. Her face was still swollen from the beating Ygor gave her, but in this moment, here with the only people she had ever been able to call friends, that pain seemed insignificant. For the first time in years, Sophija felt loved, and cared for, even if the circumstances should have buried her in guilt.


The rest of the day dragged along, the trio going about the preparations for Carolus to carry out his final grim task. Sophija and Omar snuck off at one point, returning with Misha, and a large white box that Omar carried. The three headed down to the garage, where Carolus was busy at work getting his armor and weapons ready, just in case he ended up making a fiery exit from this world. He sat quietly, loading rounds into a coffin magazine, counting out the shells as he pushed them in.


"17..I can feel you staring at me…20." Carolus told them, still counting. The trio approached the workbench, Omar pushing the box across the surface.


"What's this?" Carolus asked, placing the magazine next to his old battle rifle.


"Uh…Omar told me that your armor was missing a piece. Something you were cheated out of when you left Ephyra." Sophija replied.


Carolus raised an eyebrow then turned to look at his godson. "Omar…" he started, stopping as Omar raised a silencing hand.


"Just open the box, bro." Omar said softly.


Carolus turned back to the large white cardboard gift box, grabbing a knife to cut the tape that sealed the box on the front and sides. He lifted the lid and pulled back the black tissue paper that had been lovingly folded over the gift. Carolus let his head fall into his hands as a few tears escaped. The face of a great bear stared back at him from the box, the lower jaw was missing, but the upper one still had its row of fearsome teeth.


"I know it's supposed to be a wolf, or a stag, but…in Yamantau, we've revered the bear for centuries, and I didn't think that…" Sophija began to babble, trying to justify why it wasn't what tradition would dictate in Ephyra.


"Thank you." Carolus laughed through the tears. Sophija smiled, looking quickly at Omar, who was looking at Carolus with tears in his eyes.


"You…you never got to be a true father. Everything that happened…it stole that from you. You're the only family I have left, and I need you to understand that to me, you are my dad. You've been there for me through everything, and I..I just..I don't know. I wanted you to have that one thing that completes every Ephyran, even though we can't go back to Ephyra." Omar stammered. It felt odd to him to be emotionally vulnerable with anyone, but in this moment, he knew it was right.


Misha popped out from behind Omar and handed Carolus another, smaller box. Carolus raised his eyebrow, and gently took the box. This box was made of wood, decorated with ornate khokhloma patterns, and seemed quite old.


Sophija sat on the second stool at the workbench, taking on a more serious tone as she spoke. "I know that when Ygor is…gone, I'm going to become Tzarina. I can't be a Tzarina without appointing a Lord Protector, as per the constitution. The last Lord Protector was Ivshan Bolshoy, who died in 1916. He wore this brooch, and so did twelve of his predecessors. It's one of the only monarchal artifacts that Svrtan deemed worthy of saving. Now it belongs to you, who let's be honest…will likely be the last Lord Protector of Yamantau. No matter what happens, wear it with pride." she explained, opening the box for him, and placing it on the table.


A gold and silver brooch sat in the box, adorned with symbols of the old Yamantau, older than the name of the nation itself, symbols of when it was only a congregation of squabbling tribes.


"I accept this honor." Carolus said sternly, pressing his forehead against hers.


Carolus took the brooch and the bear pelt, and crossed over to the mannequin form that held his armor, swinging the bear pelt over the shoulders, and fastening it with the brooch. He nodded gently before turning back to the three youths watching them.


"You guys head back upstairs. I have a few more things to do before tonight." he said with a slight smile. The trio simply moved to embrace him. A family unlike any other stood in the dim lights of a garage, and shared a moment that meant everything to one man.


____________________________________

Carolus slung his rifle across his back, the strap resting on the opposite shoulder as the bear head. With his helmet under his arm, he ascended the stairs up to his living room. Omar, Sophija, and Misha all turned to look at him as he entered. He crossed silently to the door, nodding to each one.


"Lock the door behind me." Carolus told them. "Don't open it for anyone but Nicolai or me. If shit goes south enough, take the Judge and get the fuck out of Yamantau. Understood?" he asked, putting on his helmet, the face plate obscuring everything but his horrific yellow eyes. Omar nodded, and crossed to the door.


"Good luck, Carolus."



Carolus waited for the sound of the locks latching behind him before he made his way through the castle. The guardsmen saw him coming down the stairs on the east side of the foyer and reached for their weapons, but were quickly greeted by the barrel of Carolus' rifle pointed directly in their faces.


"You got families? Fuck off." Carolus warned them. Both men thought quickly about their next course of action as they stared at the brooch that sat behind the butt of the rifle.


"Lord Protector, lead the way." the first guardsman barked, stiffly saluting. Carolus was taken aback. He forgot that these people knew their history, where they came from. He lowered his rifle and pushed forward through the castle, the guardsmen waving staff away. More guardsmen joined in, eventually forming what looked like a fireteam as they moved. Carolus was thankful that these men respected the old ways still. He could feel that his goals lined up with their ambitions.


Any of the guardsmen that resisted were quickly detained by those who had chosen to follow Carolus, and left to await their fate when the job was done. The unit slowed their approach, moving quietly as they neared Ygor's chambers on the fourth floor. Carolus pointed to positions that would overlook the door just in case. He silently approached, placing his hand on the door handle, and quietly pushing inside, careful to close the door behind him.


Ygor laid peacefully in bed, the folds of the canopy falling around the frame.


"Come. Sit." Ygor croaked.


Carolus stood still for a moment, before placing his helmet and rifle on a nearby chair.


Ygor reached out with his good arm and turned on the lamp next to his bed, before pushing himself up to a sitting position against the pillows. Carolus sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the pitiful husk that had once been the behemoth Ygor Szubrov. He looked gaunt and pale, he had lost so much weight that the skin seemed to hang from his frame. Ygor looked at his would-be assassin and studied him for a moment, his cloudy gray eyes running over every detail of Carolus' face.


"I want to remember your face for when we meet again in the next life." Ygor rasped.


"Mm." Carolus grunted, staring hard at the old Tzar. He pulled the massive rifle round from the back of his belt, and held it in his lap.


Ygor looked at the round, then back at Carolus. He nodded gently before sitting back against the headboard. The pitiful fool, missing an arm and an eye, his sunken chest heaving as he breathed hard.


"Don't miss. I don't wanna survive and end up even more fucked." Ygor spat.


Carolus rose and leaned over Ygor, bracing himself against the wall. He pulled his arm back, taking one last look at the broken Tzar, before plunging the shell deep into Ygor's sternum. Ygor let out a small grunt as Carolus pushed deeper, feeling the heart give way. Ygor grabbed at Carolus, locking in a death grip on his sleeve, his muffled grunts falling away to the silence of the room.


Carolus stepped back, and waited for Ygor to fade.


It took longer than he thought, only a few seconds, but longer than he thought. He pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Nicolai, asking the old man to bring Sophija, Omar, and Misha to the foyer. Once the message was sent, he went about the next task.


___________________________________


Carolus had ordered the guardsmen that had come with him to round up those that had been detained, and those still patrolling the grounds, and had them brought to the foyer as well. The room was full of murmurs and whispers, but Sophija already knew what was about to happen. The thought of it sickened her, but she knew it was the Ephyran way.


Carolus approached the banister overlooking the foyer, looking over the occupants, before loudly declaring his victory.


"The tyrant is dead! Long live Tzarina Sophija Anastasia Szubrov of Tagtaryeva!" his booming voice filled the room as he produced Ygor's severed head, holding out by the hair. The room was filled with gasps and shrieks as Carolus released the head, letting it bounce and roll down the stairs.


Sophija ascended the stairs as he father's head rolled along, standing at the first landing as her Ephyran Protector kept a watchful eye from above.


"My people, our people were promised deliverance from suffering by my father, but in fact, suffered ten fold under him. I am not my father, I want only peace from this day forward. I am Sophija Szubrov, and I am your queen, and I will not lead you astray!" Sophija cried out.


The occupants of the room exchanged glances, considering her words. Slowly, one by one, they knelt.


The morning papers would report Ygor had died of a stroke in his sleep, the truth known only to a trusted few. With the sunrise came a new era for Yamantau.

"How long will you be gone?" Sophija asked, watching Carolus wander back and forth as he packed his bag.


"Couple weeks. I'll be back in time for your coronation." he answered, stuffing a small black box down the side of his duffle bag. Sophija eyed the bear pelt folded neatly on top of his chest plate as it sat on the bed.


"This is about Alara, isn't it?" she inquired shyly.


"Yes and no. It's about being able to move on, being able to lay everything that's happened to rest. Closure, I guess would be the right word." he explained.


"Well, how are you going to get there?" the line of questioning continued.


"Plane to Prydania, then a ship across to Ephyra. I'll land in Pua Pua sometime early in the morning, do what I need to do, and be gone by the next morning. After that, I have something else to take care of." Carolus stated, zipping up the now full duffle.


Sophija crossed her arms as she leaned against the wall, her expression pensive yet anxious. She didn't like this idea, but she knew that Carolus needed this.


"Please come back to us." she pleaded as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around his waist.


He firmly returned her embrace, and whispered a promise to her that he would in fact return, before making his way down to the garage.


__________________________________


Ephyra, two days later


Carolus pulled his hood over his helmet, quietly making his way through the street below the palace, glancing up periodically, hoping to see Alara in a window, or see her leaning over the railing of the rooftop gardens. The moons shone brightly, the eyes of Hykir staring down at him as he pushed his way through the throngs of people out enjoying their weekend at the local taverns and restaurants that lined this street. Most of the locals still instinctively moved out of his way, the sight of the Khan's Guard wasn't usual anymore, but the armor was still immediately recognizable. He came to an all too familiar intersection, staring solemnly up at the balcony of Alara's old apartment. He pushed the memories away, feeling once again for the little black box in his pocket. The burden he had carried for two years, the architect of all his pain, rested gently in that box.


He turned quickly, ducking down towards an alley that not many knew was there, moving swiftly and quietly along until he reached the servants entrance of the palace, which would take him directly into the courtyard. Two sleepy looking guards stood watch, but snapped to attention as he approached.


"Where's your papers?" one of them drawled. Carolus could smell the cheap liquor on them.


Carolus stood quietly, his stoic gaze unwavering from the drunk one. He towered over these two. Half-breeds from the looks of them. He said nothing, but pulled up his sleeve to reveal the mark of the Khan, a stallion head tattooed on the wrist.


"G-go right ahead, s-sir. So sorry, sir." the other man babbled, unlocking the gate and motioning Carolus inside with a low bow and outstretched hand. Carolus grunted and pushed past, glaring at the now trembling little drunk.


He looked up again, sure he could see someone on the rooftop. He debated going through the palace, but deemed it too dangerous. He would have to scale the walls. It was part of his training as part of the Khan's Guard to be able to access any outer room in this palace from the walls, so he knew the way, and the climb went quickly. He could smell Alara's perfume, the intoxicating scent of jasmine sweeping over him. He allowed himself to get lost in it for but a moment before pulling himself up and over the railing. He moved silently towards the wall, staying in the deep shadows, trying to find where the gentle barefoot footfalls were coming from.


Her beauty was still striking to him, even now as she stood in the moonlight, the way her dress fell around her shoulders and hips, the way the tattoos ran up the sides of her legs. It was almost as if he was seeing her again for the very first time.


"Come, guardsman. If you wish to speak, then speak. No point hiding in the shadows." she cooed, not taking her eyes from the southwest.


"Alara." Carolus croaked as he approached.


She turned with a quizzical expression, examining him head to toe. Her eyes seemed to linger on the recently repaired breastplate.


"Are you familiar to me?" she asked.


"Yes." Carolus rasped, pulling back his hood, and removing his helmet, before kneeling to his queen, placing the helmet on the ground in front of him.


Alara took a step back, covering her mouth with her hands. The tears starting to well in her eyes.


Carolus rose, keeping his distance. "I needed to see you again." he said quietly.


"Why didn't you come sooner? I've waited for you all this time. Every day, I hoped you'd come back, every day, Carolus. I'm sorry…for everything. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, especially you and Omar. I…I…" Alara babbled.


"Nobody had to die. You let Elizabeth turn you against everyone. You killed them, and then you fled. We could have helped you. I could have." Carolus interjected.


"Carolus, please…" she began to weep, moving towards him. He slowly embraced her as she approached, until she was buried against his chest. No matter what, he would always love her. He closed his eyes and just felt her against him for a moment, a minute of peace for a troubled heart.


"Why now?" she croaked, drying the tears from her eyes.


"Closure. Putting the past to rest." he replied, breaking away from the embrace. She rested her hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she looked into his eyes.


"Why don't you join me, here, as king?" she asked, gently shaking her head.


"It's not my place, and you know that. My life is in Yamantau, and I can't turn my back on them." he answered, holding her hips.


Alara studied his gentle gaze, she could tell that this was breaking his heart.


"Alara, I will always love you, no matter what, but our paths are so far diverged that there's no coming back, not right now." he continued.


She smiled softly. "One day you'll come back to me then?" she asked.


Carolus simply nodded his head.


She returned to his embrace, and the pair simply stood in the silence of the night for a few more moments before they parted.


"You didn't come all this way just tell me this. There's something else." she said quietly.


Carolus reached into his pocket and produced the black box, and pulled the lid away. Nestled upon a bed of red fabric was the amulet, the red stone torn from it, and replaced by a diamond the size of an eye.


"Its been purified, so there's nothing to be scared of anymore. I've looked through it, and the only thing is shows now is the happier moments. Think of it as a window to the past." he assured her.


She cautiously reached out, and took the necklace, letting it dangle and spin in her fingers.


"It would look better if you wore it." he laughed.


"Well would you mind?" she asked.


Carolus took the amulet from her and waited for her to sweep her hair out of the way before reaching around from behind her, and fastening the clasp. She turned back to face him, the gem sparkling in the moonlight.


"Mm, it suits you." he told her, admiring how it fell along her neckline.


"Stay with me one more night." Alara said, taking his hands.


Carolus nodded gently, and held her hand as they walked into the palace.


___________________________________


Carolus crept quietly from the bed as the first rays of dawn crept between the curtains. He quietly got dressed, smiling to himself as he remembered the night before. He moved to the dresser to grab his gun, noticing Alara's phone sitting next to it. He debated for a moment, before taking the phone and quickly putting his number into her contacts, texting himself before he returned it. He crossed to where she slept and sat on the edge of the bed, simply watching her sleep for a moment before he rose from the bed again, and crossed to the door. He donned his helmet as he exited the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He was on a deadline now, and he had to hurry.


___________________________________


The boat ride to Aspho was a long one, winding between the islands until arriving at the Cathedral of the Khan's Chosen, a resting place for the Khan's elite guard since they had landed on this island. The old church bore the striking Nordic influence that was present throughout Craviter, the obvious messianist roots of the building making it clash against the rows upon rows of Ephyran grave markers. Tall spires of stacked rocks intricately carved or painted with runic and Mewar script stood in perfect rows, stretching back into the fog.


"Name." a voice demanded from the doorway of the church.


Carolus turned to face the figure, before bowing to the withered old man that stood before him.


"Carolus Ironhorse, here to pay for Juril Ironhorse's burial as promised in our letters, and to collect his things." Carolus answered hoarsely.


"Mm. Come inside." the old war chieftain croaked, hobbling back into the structure.


Carolus followed along, past rows of pews and stained glass depicting scenes dating all the way back to the pre-transformation days. Further back they went until they reached the desk of the registrar.


The old man pulled a pair of dirty folding spectacles from his pocket, and pulled a dusty old ledger from a stack off to the side as Carolus waited patiently.


"Mm..yes…alright….ah…I see." the old man mumbled as he flipped through the book, suddenly slamming it shut and hobbling off. He returned shortly with a small trunk stamped with the Ironhorse tribal crest.


"Seems you're already paid up, just need to take your father's things and go I suppose." the elderly warden drawled.


"Paid by who?" Carolus inquired.


"Khanum Alara. Must have taken a shine to your old man before he croaked." came the brisk reply.


"Where's his resting place?" Carolus asked.


"Over the hill there, take a right, and head towards the shore line, he's right there in the last little sepulchre." the old man said, pointing out towards the door.


Carolus took the trunk and gave the caretaker a quick nod before leaving.


He took the short path down to his father's grave; a black marble tomb in which a matching sarcophagus sat in the center. Alara truly had spared no expense. He stood quietly in the entryway and took solace in the fact Juril had been able to live out his days in full. He dared not approach any further though, for his own sanity. His phone buzzed in his pocket as he turned to leave, startling him in the unnatural stillness of this blessed place. He pulled the phone from his pocket, it seemed Alara had found his number. The text simply read:


"You could have said goodbye." with a few emojis afterwards


He smiled and shot a quick text back.


"Can I see you again tonight?"


He walked with the trunk under one arm, anxiously awaiting a reply, which came as a simple:


"I'll be waiting." with a kissing face emoji.


__________________________________


After a few more days in Pua Pua, Alara and Carolus parted ways once more, this time as star-crossed lovers, destined to one day return to one another. They agreed to stay in contact as often as possible, with plans for Carolus to visit Ephyra on "business" when he could. He felt as if he had been given both closure and a second chance at happiness, even if he would have to wait for many years to have it forever.


He tried to sneak back in to Tagtaryeva Castle upon his return, moving quietly through the halls with his bag and the trunk under his arm. As he rounded the corner to his new quarters, Sophija popped out from her bedroom door, hiding halfway behind it.


"How was the trip?" she asked, her tone partly curious and partly panicked.


"Fine…why?" Carolus asked, noting the anxious flicking of her eyes.


"Just uh, checking, yeah." she nodded.


Carolus narrowed his eyes at her, and leaned against the railing. "Why don't you come out from behind the door?" he asked.


He could hear a soft laugh followed by a stifled grunt of pain from behind the door. His attention was brought back down to his phone, as a message from Alara popped up.


"Your uh…mistress of the undead?" Sophija jabbed.


"Omar?" Carolus shot back.


"I fucking told you he'd know." Omar whispered.


Carolus let out an angry sigh before Sophija cut him off.


"Show me what she sent you and you can come in." she beamed defiantly.


"Sure." Carolus answered, opening the message. He quickly realized he wasn't entering the room, as the text simply read: "Missing you already" with an image attached of Alara standing naked in the mirror.


"Make smart choices. OMAR, IM GONNA KICK THE FUCK OUT OF YOU LATER!" Carolus hollered as he walked away, Sophija slamming the door of her chambers.


Tommorow he would make ready for the coronation. Tonight, he would sleep.

Eight weeks after the coronation

Carolus squinted as he scanned the desolate horizon. There was nothing for miles except the wind swept plains and a few scraggly trees in the distance. He took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it away with a sigh. The snow crunched underfoot as he approached his captive.


"Premier. You've been a naughty, naughty boy. We can't have that, can we?" he asked, looking around before crouching down in front of the bound Premier.


The terrified Petrenik stared back at his Ephyran captor through swollen black eyes and began breathing hard through his nose, his mouth firmly sealed by the wrap of duct tape around his head and mouth.


"When the Tzarina gave power back to the parliament, she did it as a gesture of good will. A show of good faith. And you..stop, shhh." Carolus hushed him as he began to struggle, gripping the back of Petrenik's neck. "And you" Carolus continued, pointing an accusatory finger in the man's face, "Used that authority to undermine anything she brought forward on behalf of the people. You even had to stand up and insult her at her own coronation. Everyone was having a great time before you decided to fuck the evening up, so now, I have to make you an example. She doesn't even know we're out here, you and I. It's just us, the wind, and a decision, my friend." Carolus explained, loosening his grip and giving Petrenik a quick flick of the eyebrows.


Carolus stood back up and drew a knife from his boot. "Stay still." he commanded. Petrenik began to weep as he felt the blade travel up his cheek before Carolus sliced away the tape, before quickly ripping it away. Petrenik cried out in pain, taking a few labored breaths before he managed to choke out a few unintelligible words.


"What?" Carolus asked impatiently.


Petrenik repeated himself, his words still obscured by the flow of tears and the lump in his throat.


"Speak up. Huh?" Carolus taunted him, beginning to slap Petrenik repeatedly, taunting him over and over again until Petrenik finally broke.


"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" the Premier screamed.


"I want you to dig." Carolus said casually, pointing to the shovel dug into the cold earth a few feet away.


"No. No, no, no." Petrenik wept, gently falling forward until his head touched the snowy ground.


"Dig. Then make a choice." Carolus explained, grabbing Petrenik's arms and cutting away the tape on his wrists.


Carolus walked back towards his Blockade Runner, leaning on the bumper as he unholstered his weapon.


"Tick tock!" Carolus shouted.


Petrenik slowly rose to his feet and stumbled towards the shovel, grasping it as he weighed his options. He could possibly…


"Hit me with it? What's that gonna do? Dig, fucko." Carolus demanded, waving his pistol.


Petrenik did as told, digging into the cold, hard ground.


________________________________


"That's deep enough." Carolus shouted.


Petrenik stood in the hole, roughly five feet long, and two feet deep.


"Leave the shovel in there and come on out." the Ephyran ordered.


He walked towards the dirt and blood spattered Premier and pointed to a spot directly in front of the hole. Petrenik stumbled to the spot and waited, tucking his hands into his armpits to try and warm them.


"Don't speak. Just listen, and listen very, very carefully. You have fifteen minutes to make this choice. It's as simple as this; I kill you here and now, and bury you in this shitty shallow grave, a literal hole you have dug for yourself, but let the rest of your corrupt, bloated party, and your lovely wife and children leave for Arcanstotska. That's option one. Option two? You save yourself, but all of them die, and we say you ordered it after your one way trip to Arcanstotska." Carolus explained.


"My wife is innocent! You wouldn't!" Petrenik protested, taking a step forward, only to be met by the barrel of Carolus's pistol.


"Ah! Easy there friend." Carolus mocked, pulling his phone from his pocket. He quickly flicked through his contacts until he found Omar, before hitting the call button and putting it on speaker.


The phone rang twice before Omar picked up.


"Yeah?" Omar asked.


"Put the girl on the phone." Carolus told him.


There was a brief pause before Omar could be heard faintly telling Petrenik's eldest daughter, twelve year old Katerina, to talk to her father.


"Dad…" she began, her voice quivering.


"Kat!" Petrenik cried out.


"Dad, I'm scared. There's men in the house, and they say they're going to hurt us…" she told him through tears.


"Kat, it's ok…it'll be ok. Just…do what they say." Petrenik assured her.


"Dad plea.." she was cut off as Carolus ended the call.


"Do you really think, for one second that I am FUCKING WITH YOU?!" Carolus roared, pressing the barrel hard into Petrenik's forehead. "Fifteen minutes."


Petrenik closed his eyes and started to weep as a stream of urine trickled down his leg. Carolus stalked back towards the car, to give Petrenik time to think it over.


Petrenik stood solemnly over the shallow grave, staring into it as he contemplated his situation.


"Please, Carolus! We can make a deal!" Petrenik pleaded, hoping to reason with the Lord Protector.


"Six minutes." Carolus replied.


Petrenik hung his head.


"Kill me. Spare my family." he mumbled.


"What?!" Carolus asked, walking towards Petrenik.


"ME! KILL ME! LET THEM GO!" he screamed, the hot tears tracking down his cheeks, making trails through the dirt and blood.


Carolus nodded and pulled out his phone yet again, dialing Omar.


"What's the play?" Omar asked coldly.


"Take them to the airport, with the rest." Carolus answered briskly before hanging up.


Carolus leveled his weapon between Petrenik's eyes. Petrenik turned his head away, putting his hands up. Carolus grabbed Petrenik's hands and forced them down, pressing the barrel into his temple.


"You're getting what you deserve." Carolus growled, before pulling the trigger.


The only sound save for the wind, was that of the slide on Carolus' weapon locking open.


Petrenik slowly opened his eyes to see the hulking Ephyran slowly lowering his unloaded pistol.


"You don't deserve the mercy of death. As Lord Protector of Yamantau, acting on behalf of Her Majesty, Tzarina Sophija Elizabeta Szubrov, I relieve you of your position, and label you an enemy of the monarch. You're done stealing from the people. I will personally escort you to the airport, where you will be exiled from Yamantau. If you are ever to return, you will he arrested, tried for treason, and executed. Do you understand?" Carolus asked, grabbing Petrenik by the collar.


Petrenik nodded as he began to bawl uncontrollably. Carolus released him, and let the weeping man collapse into the snow.


"Take your piss pants off and get in the car." Carolus ordered.


________________________________


Petrenik looked around at the families herded into the terminal. Every member of parliament and their families huddled together on the floor, as Carolus' men kept guard. Everyone had only been allowed to take one bag, and whatever would fit inside.


The bludgeoned Premier, naked from the waist down, and wrapped in an itchy grey wool blanket like some sort of beggar, scanned the room for his family, spotting them in a corner.


Carolus watched him stumble away, before turning his attention to the car waiting just down the tarmac.


"If they try anything…light 'em up." Carolus told one of his chosen men.


"Yes, Lord Protector!" the soldier answered with a crisp salute.


Carolus lit a cigarette and made his way out of the terminal onto the tarmac, bracing himself against the cold wind. As he approached, the rear window of the black luxury SUV rolled down, Sophija and Omar watching Carolus approach.


"Are they all accounted for?" Sophija asked as Carolus leaned in the window, causing the vehicle to lean to one side.


"Yeah. Plane is taking them to Arcanstotska in an hour. News outlets are already being told that they're defecting to the newer, more socialist friendly nation. She's all yours." Carolus said coldly, looking down to see Sophija and Omar clutching hands.


"Ok." she said blankly, looking up at Carolus.


"Listen, I..I know this wasn't easy for you to…to do, but…" she began.


Carolus cut her off with a gentle wave. "Soph, I promised to protect you, and to serve you until the end of your natural life, by the time you go, the things I've done in your name; whether I agree with them or not, and trust me, today I fucking well don't, will just be me knowing I fulfilled my part of the promise."


"Carolus, I…" she began again, her tone betraying a deep sadness at Carolus' words.


"Soph! Just…save it. I don't wanna hear anything more of it today, I'm serious, dude." Carolus cut her off before walking away.


Sophija angrily threw open the car door and stormed after Carolus.


"You will not speak that way to your Queen!" she shouted.


Carolus stopped and let out a deep sigh before he turned around.


"You sound more like your fucking dad every day." he snapped, pointing a finger at her.


"Don't you DARE compare me to Ygor! Don't you DARE make me out to be the monster that he was!" she shrieked walking closer.


Carolus met her in the middle. "THEN WHY ARE YOU GETTING ME TO PUSH OUT THE PEOPLE THAT OPPOSE YOU?! HUH?! WHY ARE THERE TWO HUNDRED PEOPLE SCARED TO DEATH, WAITING TO BE SHIPPED OUT LIKE CATTLE?!" Carolus bellowed, pointing at the terminal.


Sophija opened and closed her mouth, the words escaping her.


"You don't get to do this shit to me, and then pull the Queen card on me! That's absolutely bullshit, Soph! Without me, your dad would have come back and finished bashing your brains all over the floor! I haven't done all these things, and come all this way, just to be a servant to another tyrant! You're better than this…at least I really hoped you were. Christ. You know what? Here..take this, and do your own gods damned dirty work." Carolus scolded her, before taking his pistol out and forcing it into her hand.


"Actually, here, let me help you. Me first, your fucking majesty!" he shouted angrily, grabbing her hands and pointing the pistol at his own face. She began to cry and tried to pull away. "C'mon, right in the face! Do it! Blow my brains all over the pavement and then go inside and finish the job yourself! DO IT!"


"ENOUGH!" Omar shouted, cautiously approaching.


"SHUT UP!" Carolus screamed, turning his gaze to Omar. "Come on, girlie, let's go." he growled, turning his attention back to Sophija, who was staring at him, mouth agape as he held her hands firmly on the weapon. A few tense seconds passed before Carolus tore it from her hands.


"Go home." he rasped before turning back away, and walking quickly towards the terminal.


"Hey man! Stop!" Omar pleaded, running after Carolus, grabbing his shoulder.


Carolus spun around and delivered a crushing hook to Omar's ribs, causing him to yelp in pain before tumbling to the ground.


"Take your royal whore and go home." Carolus hissed, glaring down at the terrified Omar. Omar scrambled to his feet and led the still shaking Sophija back to the car, which sped off as soon as they were inside.


Carolus waited with the soon to be exiles until the last plane bound for Arcanstotska departed, before making his way back into Tagtaryeva.


__________________________________


Omar and Sophija avoided Carolus entirely for the next few days, trying to give him space to calm down. Carolus had spent this time working on the Blockade Runner, drinking beer, and playing video games with Toby. They could hear him at all hours of the night in his garage, blasting music as he worked.


While Sophija laid in Omar's arms, Omar was forced to confront the fact that Carolus had finally reached his breaking point.


"I'm gonna go talk to him." Sophija finally said.


"I'll come with, just in case." Omar said, slowly getting up.


"No…just. I got it, ok?" Sophija said impatiently, grabbing a shirt and some sweatpants off the floor.


"Are you sure? He's…" Omar started.


"He's not gonna hurt me. Trust me." she cut him off.


Omar sat back in the bed and simply nodded.


"Ok, cool." she sighed, before quickly exiting the room.


She padded along the marble floors and across the foyer towards Carolus' quarters, the tight feeling in her chest getting worse the closer she got. She could hear the loud metal music resonating from the garage, and she knew he was likely already twelve beer deep into a twenty-four pack.


The door of his quarters was slightly ajar, so she let herself in. The usually clean area was littered with empties and reeked like weed and stale cigarette smoke. She could see he had been sleeping on the couch by the crumpled blanket and pillow that sat in one corner. She slowly made her way down the stairs towards the garage, the music almost deafening as she approached.


As she opened the door, she could see him on the rolling creeper underneath the car, more so his legs sticking out from underneath. She quietly moved towards the stereo and hit the power button, immediately sending the room into a deep silence.


Carolus slid out from underneath and spotted Sophija before quickly rolling back underneath.


"What do you want, Soph? Need a political rivals killed? Want me to get out old faithful and scrape someone's torso off their hips from three hundred yards? Maybe you'd like me to go out and kick some puppies for your amusement." he taunted as he tightened up the bolts on the transmission cradle.


"I actually came down to apologize, dick." she snapped back.


"Kay…so go for it." he retorted.


"Ok, dude…can you please come out from under there so we can have an adult conversation?" Sophija asked, her voice full of annoyance and desperation.


"Ugh, Jesus Christ…" he grunted, wheeling himself back out from underneath and rising to his feet, crossing the floor to grab another beer. He tossed one to Sophija and cracked his own, the sudsy foam flowing over the top as he took a sip, spilling some on his grease stained tank top.


Sophija quickly placed the can on the workbench and gave Carolus a nervous side-eye. She could tell he was already hammered.


"Carolus, I'm sorry." she said flatly.


"Ok, sorry for what specifically?" he poked.


"For pushing you to do that shit. It wasn't right, and the media sure isn't doing us any favors, but thats on me." she replied.


"I tried to warn you, but noooo, little Sophija has to have the biggest cock on the block because she can't handle criticism." Carolus scoffed, reaching for his cigarettes.


Sophija looked away, and tried to calm herself before she spoke again. This wasn't going to be easy.


"You're right, and if I'm going to rule, I need to learn to accept that people are going to hate me sometimes. That I can't just get my way by being a tyrant." she rattled off.


"A tyrant liiiike?" Carolus prodded with a drumroll hand gesture.


"Like my father." Sophija sighed.


"There it is! The magic words. Like your dear old dad!" he slurred.


Sophija angrily looked away again.


"Soph, you know I love you, but I didn't sign up for eighty years of being a glorified hit man. It's not…it's not right." he babbled as his drunken smile faded.


"I know! I know..and…I promise I'll never make you do it again." she forced the apology.


"Until the next time you face some sort of resistance, anyways." he replied.


"That's not fair." she said with a glower.


"No, what's not fair is being dragged away from your home, being turned into a vampire, losing the love of your life, having your godson be a disobedient little shit because he thinks with his dick, being forced to kill, and kidnap, and intimidate for two generations of the same family, losing everything…and then being talked down to like you're scum. That's not fair. I have given you everything I have, but you will not strip me of my integrity, Sophija." he stated, swaying gently.


Sophija looked back at him, and for the first time, she could see the real Carolus. The one that died in St. Ivjan the moment Willa bit him. She could see that there was something behind his bloodshot eyes that seemed to be crying out for help.


"C, please. I just need us to be good again. I miss you, Omar misses you. You haven't come out of your quarters for days, you look like hell, and you smell even worse. What would Alara say?" Sophija told him.


"You leave her out of this. She's the only reason I'm still here." he said, taken aback.


"You're free to leave at any time…" Sophija told him, confused at his wording.


"Leaving this place wouldn't set me free. The type of freedom I'm talking about comes from letting one fly through the roof of your mouth. The kind of peace that you only find when it all finally…stops…" he trailed off, staring not quite at Sophija, but through her, as if she had ceased to be.


"C….cmon…nobody wants that, trust me." she stated, her tone softening as the shocking realization of his suicidal ideations washed over her.


"You don't know what it's been like…" he croaked, taking another step back, before tripping and falling over a floor jack, landing flat on his back.


Sophija rushed over to try and help him up, steadying him as he got onto his hands and knees. She could see the tiny wet spots on the floor where his tears were falling, and she began to feel him gently heave as he cried.


He sank back into his knees, and simply screamed, letting out all the repressed pain and grief he had pushed down for so long and Sophija wrapped her arms around his neck and held him.


"I'm so sorry, Sophija…" he wept as she gently shushed him, rocking him side to side. He wrapped his arms around her waist, enveloping her in a tight embrace, as if clinging to her like a stone in a storm.


"I think I've been too hard on you. I forget that you're still just a person, not the spitting, spattered image of a blood stained god of old. You need rest. You need love. You deserve love. You deserve so much more than what you've consigned yourself to…what you've reduced yourself too….what my family has reduced you to." she babbled, the tears starting to well up in her own eyes.


Carolus slumped back, letting his head drop. He pushed himself off the floor and drew himself back up to his full height, looking down at Sophija. The two stood in silence, looking into the others eyes, finally coming to the purest of understandings. Neither of them would ever be perfect, but hurting each other wasn't the solution.


"I'm sorry.." Sophija sniffled, her bright blue eyes still glistening with tears.


Carolus pulled her in and hugged her tightly again, gently swaying from side to side.


"Me too, Soph. You should go back to Omar and get some sleep. You've probably got a long day tomorrow." he said, swallowing the lump in his throat before releasing her and moving back towards his workbench.


"I…I was hoping I could crash here for the night, just kinda…hang out. Y'know…like we used to." she interjected, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the tears away.


Carolus turned to look at her, and he realized that he needed this just as bad as she did. When he looked at her in that moment, he didn't see the Tzarina, all grown up. He saw the same scared fourteen year old girl he first met five years ago, hiding behind her father as he entered the room, terrified of the green skinned monster that was to be her protector. Here she was, with her hair in a messy bun, and her pajamas, with that same expression of terror, and for the first time, he realized, that she was no longer afraid of him, she was terrified of losing him.


"Sure." he said with a gentle nod. "But get Omar down here too…I..I owe him an apology too.


Sophija nodded, looking down at the floor, the tears still in her eyes.


"What's going on….what are you not telling me?" Carolus asked, raising an eyebrow.


She let out a laugh as her gaze snapped towards the ceiling. "I'm pregnant." she laughed. "Omar is the father. I found out a couple days ago, and I wanted to tell you the second I found out but I was so scared." she broke down again. "You're the closest thing I have to a dad, and I'm so fucking scared." she continued, covering her face with her hand.


Carolus moved towards her and pulled her close yet again. "I will always be there for you and Omar, and this baby." he assured her, placing his massive hand on her stomach.


"A girl." he stated confidently.


"You can't know that." she laughed through her tears.


"A girl. A true shield maiden." he insisted, again pulling her close.


"I hope so." Sophija sighed, laying her head on his torso.


The pair stood in the dim light of the smoke filled garage for what seemed like hours, assuring each other of their importance before Sophija texted Omar to join them.


Omar cautiously entered the room, and was motioned to join Carolus and Sophija in their embrace. The seeming family group therapy session carried on until the wee hours of the morning, until they all fell asleep upstairs on Carolus' couch, Omar and Sophija leaning on his shoulders as he stared into the black mirror surface of his television at the only family portrait he cared about right now. He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, and gingerly reached in, trying his best not to disturb his sleeping friends. It was Alara.


"Hey, babe, what's up?" he whispered.


"I just got into Tagtaryev. I was worried about you…" she replied, her tone desperate.


"I'll uh…I'll be right there. Give like ten to shower." he said happily, gently lifting himself from between the two, letting them collapse in on one another.


He quickly ran to have a shower, and quietly cleaned his abode before noticing the pair had moved to cuddle one another on the couch. He smiled, and threw the blanket over them before tip toeing down to the garage and hopping into the Blockade Runner.


Maybe a visit with his love would be just what he needed.

"Steady yourself….breathe in, exhale…fire." Carolus instructed.


The sound of the rifle firing would have been deafening if not for the ear protection.


"You were a little bit off, dial it back a little." he continued, pointing to the dial on the side of the scope. Alara did as he said, turning the dial until it clicked three times.


"Ok, lift the bolt, pull it back until the shell ejects, then close the bolt again. Do the same thing as before." he told her.


Alara closed her left eye and peered down the scope at the target, a large hay bale with a paper target pinned to it. She squeezed the trigger, feeling the last bit of pressure on it before taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. Carolus put his hands up to brace her if she staggered back again.


"Nice and even pull." he reminded her.


With a loud bang and the hissing whoosh of the muzzle brake, she let the next round fly.


Dead center.


"Fuck yeah! Very nice, babe!" he applauded.


Alara smiled wide and laid the rifle down before happily clapping and cheering herself on.


Carolus had promised he would teach her to shoot properly years ago, and he figured now was better than never. The snow was littered with spent brass and shredded paper targets, and the hay bale they had been using looked as if it were ready to collapse in on itself at any moment.


"I think that's good enough for today! Let's head back into the city, there's somewhere I want to show you." he laughed, picking up the rifle and carrying it back towards the case that sat on the hood of his car. He quickly packed it away and tossed it into the back seat after ensuring it was unloaded, before rushing back around and opening Alara's door, sarcastically offering her a hand up and in as if she were a fanciful lady of many years past.


"Such a fine gentleman." she mockingly swooned, placing the back of her hand on her forehead and pretending to faint as she giggled.


The drive back into Tagtaryev didn't take long, but the traffic in the city was terrible, especially in a vehicle this size. Carolus didn't mind though, he simply cruised along with his hand on Alara's thigh, which she held tightly with her own while she flicked through her phone trying to find a song.


"I'm hungry." she said, rolling her head towards him, making eyes like a sad puppy.


"Well what would you like? Like, fast food? A sit down type place?" he asked.


"I don't care, whatever you want." she replied.


"Rafhazi?" he inquired.


"Mm, no." she replied.


"Ok, how about Machev's?" he suggested.


"No, Machev's always makes me feel bloated." she said with a sigh.


"Ok, how about Skandan? There's a great Skandan place just up the road." he said.


"Nah, I don't know, you pick. Whatever you want." she said with a mischievous smile.


"You're doing that to annoy me." he laughed. "Seriously, what are you feeling?"


"Just surprise me." she said.


"Ok, we can go for suk mai." he said with a repressed laugh.


"What the hell is suk mai?" she asked curiously, before immediately realizing her mistake.


"Suk mai nuts!" he shouted.


"Oh my fock! You're the worst!" she laughed, giving him a light backhand to the neck before settling back into the seat, leaning against the door to look at him.


"Works every time." he laughed.


Carolus rolled the car along, pulling off the main road and down a side street that was brightly lit by the multitude of neon signs, each of them in a different language.


"Where are we?" Alara asked, intrigued by their surroundings.


"Zakhaev Road, but the locals call it The Crossroads. Everywhere has a Skandatown, or a Little Mehar, that sort of thing. This is basically every Little or Town that you could ask for. They have a sick night market too. I figure we could go there, grab something to eat because there's no shortage of choice." Carolus explained, pointing to a row of brightly canvased stalls at the front of a large courtyard.


He pulled in to a parking spot down the way, and the pair hopped out of the vehicle. With fingers intertwined, they strolled down the block towards the market, washed in the neon glow.


"It can get a little dicey around here, but I'm not especially worried. If you look real casual behind us, you'll see the Royal Marines dressed like tracksuit gopniks wearing ear pieces." Carolus laughed.


Alara slowly looked around before settling her gaze on two men wearing red tracksuits with stripes running down the arms and legs trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.


"Why are they following you? I noticed them pull in behind us as soon as we came into the city." Alara asked.


"Soph is worried about me, and she wants to make sure I'm safe after the whole thing with Petrenik. Apparently some folks are fairly upset." Carolus sighed.


"Well, I hate to say it, but…they have a point." Alara said timidly.


"Ahh..it'll be fine, I'm a big boy, I can handle myself." he assured her.


She didn't try and fight him on it, since she knew he'd never listen, so they walked quietly through the rows of stalls in the market square, stopping to chat with a few of the vendors along the way, picking up some fun little trinkets here and there.


"So what does Soph plan to do about the whole thing?" Alara asked, inspecting the little braided bracelet she had bought from a Rafhazi vendor.


"Uh…I don't know. She's busy sorta…freaking out about the whole baby thing." he answered with a sigh.


"Well, I mean, I get it. She's barely nineteen, carrying a child that's going to be watched and scrutinized for it's entire life, and she already knows how that feels. The only difference between her and that baby is that she only had someone to protect her for the last five years, where that kid is going to be protected for its entire life." Alara chattered.


"These people will never let that child take the throne when it's time. Hopefully that doesn't happen for a long, long time, because I kinda like Sophija after all this time. If it comes down to it…ugh, fuck. I'll probably bring Omar and the kid back to Ephyra when she dies." Carolus said resignedly. He truly dreaded the day that Sophija would pass from this world to the next, but he knew he would be there to see it.


"Well…it's kinda got me thinking though…because…remember when Willa told us that this…disease…would leave us childless forever…well, obviously that's not the case…so…" she said nervously.


Carolus stopped and looked down at her as she blushed.


"You want to have a baby?" he asked.


"Well…yeah. I've been thinking about it since I last saw you, and…" she trailed off.


Carolus smiled gently. "Listen, I want that more than anything, and, fuck, listen…" he started, before grabbing both of her hands. "I want that, more than anything else in the world, to have a family with you, but what kind of father would I be halfway around the world?" he asked desperately.


Alara smiled back. "You'd be the father you need to be. Our child would grow up knowing that we would all be together again one day, and you know we'd figure something out. Our child would understand that you have work to do, and that one day you'd come home and we'd be whole again." she assured him, the tears beginning to well up in her eyes.


"We should talk more about it tonight, but for now, let's focus on getting some food." he said with a gentle nod.


"Promise?" she asked?


"Promise." he whispered with a smile.


She brushed her hair behind her ear as she turned away and they began to walk again, the thought of having a family filling her with joy.


They wandered until they found a vendor slinging donairs and decided it was probably the best option. The donairs smelled delicious, and were quickly consumed on the walk back to the car. As they passed one of their unassuming escorts, Carolus looked directly at the man, his mouth full of donair.


"Gun is sticking out of your waistband, homie." he mumbled through the mouthful of food.


The soldier fumbled with his jacket to try and cover up the pistol grip that was quite visibly sticking out of his waistband with an embarrassed expression.


"Relax, it's a pistol, not a boner." Alara laughed sweetly, looking back over her shoulder at him.


The soldier in the tracksuit let out a sigh and quickly followed after them.


The pair made their way back to Carolus' vehicle and disembarked the neon flooded street, heading back to the palace through the winding back streets.


"Soph gonna be home?" Alara asked.


"Probably. Omar too. He's probably nervous to see you, so he might hide." Carolus laughed.


"Little shit should be. Too busy thinking with his dick." Alara said, obviously a little frustrated.


"Listen…they had some shit going on, and yeah, I shouldn't have been the one to tell you, but think of it this way; would you have immediately told your parents if I had accidentally gotten you pregnant when we weren't even supposed to be left alone together? Probably not." he tried to reason with her.


The sudden realization hit her, and she turned in the seat to look at Carolus.


He looked over nervously, and seeing the expression on her face, immediately raised a slightly shaking hand. "No. Nope. Wait. This wasn't my fault! Yes I let it happen once, but I wasn't even in-country to stop them!" he tried to defend himself.


"YOU KNEW THEY WERE HOOKING UP YOU FOKKING SHITHEAD!" she exclaimed, slapping his hand before pointing a finger in his face. "Its fokking you! You left them alone and horny teenagers did what horny teenagers do! You're a bad parent!" she joked.


"He can't even pull the car out of the driveway, what did you expect?" he laughed.


"Ewwwwugh!" Alara laughed, turning back towards the windshield.


Carolus laughed so hard he began to cry as he drove.


The rest of the way back to palace, the pair engaged in some light off-pitch karaoke and continued to poke fun at their current situation. It wasn't until they rolled back into the main courtyard towards Carolus' garage that Alara went quiet. They could see Omar pacing back and forth in the garage, nervously waiting for their return.


"Ready to see some shit?" Alara asked with a grin.


"Oh, you know it babe." Carolus smiled back.


As they rolled into the garage, Omar stood back against the wall, smoking a cigarette, visibly shaking.


Alara threw the door open as soon they had parked and stood on the running board, hanging over the door, pointing at Omar.


"YOU!" she shouted.


"Shit…" Omar whispered.


"Yeah! Shit is right you little asshole! Fuck were you thinking?" she began, slamming the door as she jumped down. Carolus circled around the back, trying to suppress a laugh as he went to retrieve his rifle.


"I don't know, we really like each other and.." Omar tried to defend himself.


"And what? You just decided to skip over a couple important steps or what?!" Alara continued standing face to face with him.


"No, I just…Carolus, bro, come on, help me out!" he said pleadingly, watching Carolus head towards the door to his quarters.


Carolus stopped and flashed a toothy grin. "Nope. Fuck you, that..right there? That's a you problem right now, bro." he laughed as he quickly ducked in the door. He laughed a deep belly laugh as he climbed the stairs to his quarters, hearing Alara continue to chastise him as he went.


"You know I love you, but use the big head to think, not the little one! You're smarter than that!" she kept it up as his gaze shifted to the floor.


Carolus opened the door into his living room and immediately looked up to see Sophija sitting at his kitchen table, smoking a cigarette. He quickly walked over and snatched it from her hand, putting it between his lips as he put the rifle case on the coffee table.


"You're pregnant, you shouldn't be smoking." he said quietly.


"I have one or two a day, it's fine." she replied, visibly offended that he had stolen her smoke.


He looked back at her squinted. "That's stupid." he finally said.


"Yes, and?" she said, very mockingly producing another cigarette from the pack on the table.


Carolus rolled his eyes and shook his head. "The fokking both of you, I swear. Can't stop either of you from doing dumb shit. Kid is gonna be born all weird if you keep that up." he sighed.


"How's he holding up down there?" Sophija asked.


"Uh…well…he's lucky Alara is just yelling at him. She said we should have had him neutered." Carolus said, letting out a low laugh.


Sophija let out a small laugh before taking a long look at Carolus. "She's not mad at me right?" she finally asked.


"No, she's not really mad at him either, she's just giving him a hard time. It's the Ephyran way if we're being quite honest. But, thanks to you little buttheads, now she wants us to have a baby. Good job, you gave my future wife baby fever, dumbass." he assured her with a smile.


"Oh shit! She said yes?" Sophija asked excitedly.


"Shhhh, shut your fo…shut your mouth. I'm gonna ask her tonight when the time is right." he hissed, gesturing for Sophija to lower her voice.


"Oh, my bad, G." she replied with a smile. She could hear Omar and Alara coming up the stairs and quickly crushed out her cigarette.


Carolus nervously thumbed the little box in his pocket as he waited. When they came through the door, they were both smiling and happy, and Alara ruffled Omar's hair before pushing him away. "Hey, bring it in, kid!" she exclaimed, holding out her arms as she approached Sophija. Sophija smiled and shuffled over to Alara, her baggy print pajamas dragging across the floor, and her oversized hoodie sleeves covering her hands as she reached out. Alara hugged her tight before pushing her back by the shoulders and looking at her before placing a hand on her belly.


"Girl." Alara said confidently.


Sophija smiled and laughed. "Carolus said the same thing."


Alara laughed and hugged her again. "Its good to see you, girl." Sophija said softly.


"Ugh, yeah. It's been too long. I meant to come out sooner, but I had some shit come up with the tribal elders and they're being difficult, so, had to delay." Alara explained.


"How long you here for?" Omar chimed in.


"Couple weeks officially, buuut…unofficially I'll probably be here a little longer this time. Kadri is looking after things while I'm gone." Alara told him.


"Kadri is good shit, you'd like Kadri." Carolus said to Omar. "He's absolutely ancient, but he's still pretty quick. He used to hang out with my dad, he's married to Marrin's cousin Freyja's mom." he explained.


"Oh, uh…Olga!" Omar said, snapping his fingers as he tried to remember her name.


"Yeah, yeah! He's married to Olga." Carolus affirmed.


"So…Marrin's aunt…" Sophija said blankly.


"Well, yes but no. You gotta remember, some Ephyrans still live that poly life, and if your dad has multiple wives, all those wives are your mom, same if your mom has multiple husbands, all of them are your dads. So Freyja's mom, Olga, wasn't her birth mom, she was one of Freyja's family moms." Alara explained.


Sophija blinked slowly. "What?" she asked, quite confused.


"Don't worry about it. C'mon, let's go grab Nikolai, he'll want to know they're here." Omar laughed. Sophija simply nodded and went with Omar, beginning the questioning on how polyamory works in Ephyran culture almost as soon as they were out the door.


"Misha gonna be around while I'm here?" Alara asked excitedly.


"Uh, yeah, should be back tomorrow night actually. He's been having a lot of fun with school out in Novisibraskaya actually. Learning all kinds of wild shit." Carolus answered. Misha was fifteen and hated everyone except his adoptive family in Tagtaryev, but he did enjoy his studies at the Veskevitch Academy in Novisibraskaya, taking university level courses already.


"So…hey, let's have a quick chat, yeah?" Carolus said, wiping his palms on his pants as he guided Alara to the couch.


She sat down nervously, and looked at him.


"What's wrong…is it Nikolai? Is Nikolai sick? Did Misha get someone pregnant too?" Alara quickly interrogated Carolus.


"No. No no. It's nothing like that, I just…I need to ask you something that I should have asked a long time ago, but never got the chance, and we should really get it figured out because I really love you, and you really love me, and I need some answers, so I need to ask you a really important question that…" he babbled, before Alara cut him off.


"Babe. Chill. What is happening right now?" she asked. She had never seen him so nervous.


He pulled the box from his pocket and got down on one knee.


"I need to know if you'll marry me, and only me. Just us." he said, opening the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.


Alara sat with her mouth slightly agape, opening and closing it, trying to find the words.


Carolus held his breath, watching her gather her thoughts.


Finally, she looked up at him with a stern expression, and waited for a moment.


"Yes." she said, her mock matronly expression splitting into an ear to ear smile as she threw herself at him, nearly knocking them both over the coffee table.


The pair hugged for a moment before she eagerly held her hand out, and Carolus slid the ring on. She stood and admired it for a moment before throwing her arms around him again, and jumping up and down as she giggled.


Carolus had never been happier. "I know it's gonna be difficult to make this all work, but, if anyone can do it…it's us." he said.


She stepped back, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. "Yeah, it is us." she croaked.


A soft knock on the door drew their attention, and a wrinkly face peaked through the door.


"Did she say yes?" Nikolai asked, the mischievous glint in his eye ever present.


Alara smiled and held her hand out to show off the ring. Nikolai threw the door open and popped the confetti tube he had been hiding behind the door, followed shortly by Omar and Sophija doing the same.


Alara laughed as the multi-colored paper rained down around them. Nikolai shuffled over and hugged both of the Ephyrans, with Omar and Sophija joining in the embrace.


The group chatted and celebrated the engagement for a while, with everyone eventually going back to their own quarters, with Carolus needing to carry Nikolai back to his room because the old man had overdone it on the rasat.


"You're a lucky man." Nikolai slurred as Carolus carried him.


"Oh, I know." he beamed, making his way down the hall with the little old man almost cradled in his arms.


"She is not only powerful, but she is truly the gem of Ephyra, beautiful beyond words." Nikolai carried on.


"Careful, old boy. Might start thinking you're in love with my girl." Carolus joked.


Nikolai let out a raspy laugh. "You know I would never. Nobody will ever compare to my Marrin, God rest her soul." he slurred.


"She was a good woman." Carolus replied.


"The best!" Nikolai shouted, flailing his arms, before very quickly falling asleep.


"Crazy old man." Carolus laughed, carrying Nikolai to his room. He placed the old man in his bed, which was surrounded by books, and threw the blanket over him. "Sleep well." Carolus said gently.


He quietly closed the door and made his way back through the halls, lighting a cigarette as he walked. He thought back, and remember all the struggle he had gone through to get to this point and came to the conclusion that it had all been worth it. He paused to look at the portrait of Sophija that hung on the wall in the foyer. He remembered when she was just a little girl, sitting on a brick wall, eating shaved ice with him, desperately trying to forge a friendship. Now, he would give his life for her. He had already killed for her, and he would do it again in a heartbeat, despite their disagreements. His life up this point had been quite the adventure, and he was happy that he and the people he cared about had found a way to be safe, happy, and relatively healthy.


"Road to hell is paved with good intentions, Carolus, but at least you've actually done some good along the way." he drunkenly muttered to himself.


"Its weird to talk to yourself, dude." a voice called out.


Carolus spun around to face the door. Misha stood there with a smile, his bags sitting next to him on the floor.


"Hey! Thought you weren't coming home til tomorrow night!" Carolus said happily, crossing over to give Misha a hug. The boy happily returned the embrace before picking up his bags.


"Caught an early flight home. Caught a cab back from the airport." Misha explained.


Carolus grabbed one of the bags from Misha and started walking.


"Let's go, walk and talk." Carolus told him. They climbed the stairs together as Misha filled him in on how things were going, his studies, their trip to the Tjar battlegrounds, and that he had met a girl at school. He seemed quite smitten with her, and Carolus was happy for him. When they got to Misha's room, they paused outside the door.


"Listen, there's no point waking everyone up, so don't tell them I'm home. I'll just roll in for breakfast in the morning." Misha said, letting out a yawn.


"Word. I'll catch you in the AM then, dude." Carolus chuckled, giving Misha a fist bump before the boy went into his room and closed the door.


He again began his stroll back to his quarters, lighting another cigarette. Family was all home, life was good. He hummed a tune to himself as he walked, quietly singing a few words here and there.


"...my buckle leaves impressions on the inside of her thigh..there are little feathered balkhas where we tussled through the night, if I knew she was religious, I wouldn't have came stoned, to the house of such an angel, too fucked up to get back home.." he sang, trying to remember the exact melody.


He gently pushed the door open, and lifted his gaze. Alara sat naked on the counter, against the window.


"Just like back in Pua Pua." she said mischievously.


Carolus kicked the door shut behind him. "Just like back in Pua Pua." he smiled, throwing his shirt to the side as he approached her.

Feathered Indians by Tyler Childers

Sophija threw her hair into a bun and silently padded down the hallway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Omar would follow shortly, but for now, she wandered towards the dining room where everyone in the house took most of their meals, the lavish halls a stark contrast to her disheveled appearance. She waved with a small smile from the top of the stairs as she saw Carolus and Alara also making their way towards the dining room.


"Well good morning, happy couple." she croaked as she neared them.


"Morning, Soph." Carolus grunted.


Alara pulled Sophija under her arm as they walked, Sophija giving her a welcoming hug as they walked.


"How you feeling today?" Alara inquired.


"Uh…little sick. Threw up this morning, but thats all on little one here." she said, placing a hand on her belly.


"Cravings started yet?" Alara questioned.


"Nothing more than usual." Sophija answered.


The trio walked arm in arm down the halls towards the dining room, flopping into the nearest seats when they arrived. Nicolai was already there, reading over the morning paper with his usual cup of black coffee, usually also with a splash of something stronger. He didn't even look up from the paper as they sat down as he mindlessly flipped through.


"Anything interesting?" Carolus inquired, leaning over the table to look at the paper.


"Rafhazan is on fire again. Apparently that uh, Al…Al-Jiminez, Al..Al-Jacobi group, is causing problems again. They're always trying to start shit these days." Nicolai sighed, laying down the paper.


"Al-Jabari?" Sophija asked, hunched over with her elbows on the table.


Nicolai snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "That's the one." he said.


Sophija turned her glance to Carolus. "You should reach out to Sayed, see if he wants some help with that." she stated.


"I can ask, but it's not Sayed that would have the say on that one. It's that little fucking rat, Latif. What a little dink he is, ego on him." Carolus explained. "I'll text him though, see what happens."


Carolus lazily dug his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text to Caliph Sayed Abdi Al-Nasir. An incredibly informal way of communicating state business, but the Caliph of Rafhazan had fostered a close relationship with Carolus and Nicolai especially, enjoying their company greatly during his visit.


The response came almost immediately as Carolus' phone started to ring. "I'm gonna go have a smoke while I take this." he groaned, rising from his chair before lumbering his way back into the hall.


The could hear Carolus greet someone as he walked away. Misha appeared in the doorway with a big smile on his face as Sophija and Alara rushed up to greet him, almost crushing him between them. They exchanged hugs and happy sentiments before Misha sat down next to Nicolai, giving the old man a side hug.


"Omar know you're back yet?" Sophija asked.


"Judging by the smell of weed covered up with body spray, I'd say yes." Alara interjected with a laugh.


Misha giggled as he nodded to them. "Yeah, I saw him this morning, got up to some pre-meal prep." he laughed.


"You're a dumbass. Stop smoking up with Omar, it's bad for you." Sophija scolded.


"Oh c'mon. I'm home for the next month, you know it was going to happen sooner or later." he told her.


Sophija sat back in her chair and glared at him.


"Oop, mother Sophija has become upset." Misha joked, giving Nicolai a gentle nudge.


Omar entered the room, a concerned look on his face as he looked back and forth between the group and the hall behind him.


"Why is Carolus out on the lawn just sort of wandering around?" he asked.


"Talking to Sayed about lending a hand in Rafhazan. Hopefully it goes alright." Alara answered. "Also, don't get the kid stoned."


Omar shrugged and let out a nervous laugh before sitting down next to Sophija.


"Sayed and Latif are coming here." Carolus announced as he re-entered.


The group slowly turned and looked at him in disbelief. He looked at each of their faces and waited for a response.


"When!?" Alara asked.


"Tommorow." Carolus answered, taking his seat.


"What did you say to him?" Sophija asked, somewhat astonished.


"Told him we wanted to help, he said Latif wouldn't allow foreigners to interfere, I told him I knew a guy that could help convince him. So…made another phone call, and now uh….Tariq Al-Sayaf is also coming." he said sheepishly.


Alara and Omar quietly stared, slackjawed.


"Who is Tariq Al-Sayaf?" Sophija asked, quite confused.


"The f-fucking Sniper Sheikh?" Omar finally managed to stutter out.


"Yep. That Tariq Al-Sayaf." Carolus sighed with a nod.


"Who the hell is Tariq Al-Sayaf?!" Sophija asked again, raising her voice in frustration.


"A fucking legend." Omar whispered with a tone of reverence.


"How the hell do you know Tariq Al-Sayaf?" Alara asked, dumbfounded.


"He knew Dad." Carolus stated blankly, as if it were a well known fact. "He taught me to shoot my first rifle."


"WHO THE HELL IS TARIQ AL-SAYAF?!" Sophija shouted.


"Tariq is an old family friend. Officially, he died in Rafhazan like, a long time ago, unofficially, well…he's been alive and well in Ephyra. He's the deadliest sniper in Rafhazi history. He's killed…gods…Omar, what was it?" Carolus began to explain, before snapping his fingers and pointing at Omar.


"Officially, three hundred and thirty-nine, over a hundred of those from like, eight hundred to twelve-hundred meters." Omar quickly replied.


"How do you know that?" Sophija confusedly remarked.


"Mercs are kind of like celebrities in Ephyra. At one point, there was a company that actually made trading cards with official military service records on the back for really famous ones. Tariq was one that basically everyone heard about." Alara answered for him. "Omar would collect them, and he was absolutely obsessed." she laughed.


Omar made a dismissive gesture as he sucked his teeth. "Why you gotta make me sound like a nerd." he sighed.


"It was cute!" Alara exclaimed.


"Kay…wait, so what does Tariq have to do with convincing Latif?" Sophija asked, turning her attention back to Carolus.


"Ok, so…back in the nineties, Tariq was a Captain in the Rafhazi National Corps. They would send him in on these crazy black ops if they one hundred and ten percent needed a job done. Dude was ruthless. When Latif was elected, he started some shit with a dude named Abbass, uh Abbass….what was his name….Abbass Muhammad, I think? Well, Abbass started what is now Al-Jabari as this fundamentalist Mehrabist offshoot, and Latif sends Tariq to kill him. So Tariq goes, and he's gonna do this shit real surgical right? One shot from a distance, boom, job done. Well, he's got the shot lined up from up on a cliff, and he's gonna wait til Abbass is done praying, just out of respect. Well, he sees the guys he was supposed to be in charge of roll in, and just start massacring these people. He radios in, ordering them to stop, but they disobey, citing that Latif ordered otherwise. Well, now they've really started some shit. Tariq goes to Latif and rips a strip off him, and Latif doesn't like that, so, he starts ensuring that Tariq's superiors only assign him to the most batshit, suicidal, certain death type of ops. Well, Tariq comes back successful every time. One day, he just disappears, poof, gone. Like a ghost. Over the next few months, right, the military officers that Latif was paying off are getting picked off one by one, usually when they'd venture into the deep south. Turns out, Tariq went ahead, made a deal with Abbass. I don't fuck with you, you don't fuck with me. He's said he hated it, but Abbass was far more willing to take the chance than he thought he would be. So, he spends the last part of the nineties mopping that up, gets the hell out of Rafhazan. He ends up in Ephyra, shows up in the early two-thousands, lives right next door to my family. He signs on with a mercenary company, spends the next few years globe-trotting, and I can guarantee those numbers went waaaaay up. At this point, he's declared dead in Rafhazan for the first time. Second time he's declared dead is a few years back when Latif decided to use him as a propaganda tool to get folks fired up against Al-Jabari. He says Tariq was running covert ops all this time, and that he was captured and killed in some heinous way. Anyways, Tariq was actually running ops with my Dad in Gothis when this happened, and he's pissed. He goes back to Rafhazan, real quiet, and sneaks into Latif's house. I've never known him to tell a lie, but he says he had Latif by the throat while his wife was asleep next to him, knife out and everything, tells him he'll be watching. He sneaks out, ghosts again, back to Ephyra. I didn't think I'd be able to get ahold of him, but his house number is still the same. Not only did he agree to come, he was actually happy to hear from me after all this time. So, he's coming on the next flight and he'll be here tonight. Sayed and Latif will be here tomorrow or the next day. Sayed knows. Latif does not." Carolus rattled off, barely pausing to take a breath.


"Holy shit! Why didn't you tell me you know the Sniper Sheikh!?" Omar asked excitedly.


"Because you'd react like that! I know you've got a lot of questions, but you can ask him yourself when he gets here." Carolus explained.


"Oh god, what room should I give him? What should we have ready? What kind of things does he like?" Sophija babbled nervously.


"Relax. Knowing Tariq, he'll likely ask to put up a tent somewhere on the grounds. If not, he can stay in the east wing, yes, it's minimal over there, but he'll like that. He's a very simple man. He'll also prefer it because he'll be closer to Mehar when he prays." Carolus assured her.


"Ok. Ok. Gotcha." she sighed, leaning back into her seat.


"Think he'll bring his rifle?" Omar asked.


"No, he'll probably ask to see it when he gets here though. It's that old one I have." Carolus stated flatly.


"The one in your footlocker?!" Omar exclaimed, wide-eyed.


Carolus simply nodded. "That's the one he taught me to shoot with."


"So that's why you're so good at that." Sophija said, the realization finally hitting her.


"Mhmm. But seriously, Omar. Be respectful, yeah? He's a good man, but don't annoy him, that's not why he's here." Carolus advised.


"Ok, yeah, I promise, but you'll let me meet him, right?" Omar quickly agreed.


"Yes. I think his plan is to stay and catch up for a couple of days, so there'll be time for that." Carolus assured him.


The rest of the day went quickly with the group making preparations and regrouping from time to time just to check in.


When the time came, Carolus waited patiently on the steps up to the grand doors of the palace. When the car finally arrived, Carolus descended with a smile. As it stopped and the driver quickly moved to open the door, Carolus paused. Tariq slowly emerged, clad in a beige shirt with matching pants tucked into his boots, an olive green shemagh around his neck. An old soldier through and through. Carolus approached as Tariq spotted him, both men holding out their hands and shaking firmly when they met before pulling into a quick embrace before Tariq pushed Carolus away and examined him with a crooked smile.


"You have grown, little one." Tariq said with amazement.


Carolus laughed. He had been taller than Tariq since he was twelve.


"Its wonderful to see you, old friend." Carolus said quietly. "We've prepared a spot for you on the grounds if you wish to stay in your tent, or we have a room inside if you'd prefer."


"I think I will stay inside. I am getting too old to sleep rough now." Tariq chuckled.


Carolus nodded and went to retrieve Tariq's bags from the trunk. A simple rucksack and a sea bag was all he found.


"Traveling light." Carolus remarked.


"One needs only the warmth of Al-Aziz, and the nourishment of a pure soul." Tariq replied.


"Mashaziz." Carolus replied with a smile.


"Your Rafhazi still needs work." Tariq chuckled as he took Carolus' arm as they climbed the stairs.


The pair reminisced on Ephyra and Juril as they walked, making their way to the room that Tariq would call home for the next few days. It was minimal to day the least. An old butler's quarters that had been half converted into a bedroom with a window that faced the east.


"I like this." Tariq remarked, examining the room.


"I thought you would. I made sure that there was space for your sajjāda and that the bed would be comfortable." Carolus explained.


"You are still kind. That is rare as one grows older." Tariq said with a laugh.


"Its cruel to deny a man his necessities." Carolus smiled softly. He held a great respect for Tariq, bordering on reverence. "I also have a gift from the Tzarina, she wanted to ensure you felt welcome." Carolus continued, reaching for a box on the simple table nearby, handing it to Tariq, who took it gratefully.


Inside was a copy of the Qura, with exquisite gilded pages, and a beautiful embossing of the shuhada on the cover.


"Fit for a Caliph." Tariq marveled, turning it over in his wrinkled hands. "Tell the Tzarina that her gift is gratefully appreciated. My hosts are truly gracious, just as Al-Aziz would have commanded them to be."


Tariq had been subtly trying to convert Carolus to Mehrabism for many years, but found no success. His patience and commitment to the effort were admirable though.


"I'll let you get settled in. My quarters are in the west wing, second floor, last door on the left side of the balcony if you need anything." Carolus chuckled, before again shaking Tariq's hand and then exiting the room. As he entered the hallway, he spotted Omar peeping around the corner. Carolus made an angry shooing gesture, and Omar quickly departed.


"Fucking kid." Carolus grumbled as he made his way down the hall. He shook his head as he made his way down the hall, reaching for his cigarettes, reaching into the pocket and feeling cold metal. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he had accidentally left a magazine in his pocket at the range. He quickly pulled the object from his pocket, almost dropping it as he realized what it was.


Juril's lighter. The beautiful runic engravings shining back from the silver surface as he turned it over in his hand. He gripped it tightly as he began to feel the lump in his throat rise. Tariq you old bastard.


He slowly turned and knocked on Tariq's door before entering.


Tariq stood on his sajjāda, facing out the window.


"Akbar azizi." he said quietly, before kneeling down and looming to his left and right. "Asalaam alaykum." he whispered as he looked in either direction, greeting those who prayed around the world as well. Carolus waited patiently in the doorway, being sure to stay very quiet. Tariq finished his prayer and stood.


"It is cruel to deny a man his closure." Tariq said firmly. A small smile on his face.


"Thank you." Carolus choked, tapping the lighter on his palm.


Tariq turned to face him, before pulling Carolus' wallet from his his shirt pocket. "I taught you better than that, be more aware." Tariq told him, stepping forward and holding out the wallet. Carolus took it gently with a smile. It was true, Tariq had taught him better than that, he should have felt the old man take his wallet when he hugged him. He likely dropped the lighter on him as they walked as well. He had aged many years, but he was still sharp as a tack.


Carolus excused himself and walked down the hall, still examining the lighter. He popped the lid open and found a note neatly folded inside. He took it out, popped a cigarette into his mouth and unfolded the note.


"Son, I won't be around much longer, but know that I love you. Know that I am proud of you. I know what has happened to you, but you must understand; you are my son, and I will always love you. Keep me in your heart, and know that Alara speaks of you often. She truly loves you, keep her safe and continue being a good man, for one day, you will be king. Love, Dad."


Carolus could feel the tears streaking down his face as he clenched his teeth. He let out a small whimper as he stood motionless in the hall, staring down at the note. He quickly lit the cigarette, and snapped the lighter shut. Gently folding the note back up and placing it in his pocket, he continued on, wiping the tears from his face.


Sophija came out from one of the doors, wandering directly into him. She jumped back in surprise, holding her hand against her chest. "Jesus, sorry." she gasped. Carolus silently pulled her into a hug, simply standing there with her in the silence.


She slowly brought her hands up and squeezed tight around his waist. She could tell he needed it.


"You ok, C?" she whispered.


He shook his head before answering. "Mm mm"


"That's OK. I'm here for you." she croaked, laying her head against his chest. Without Alara, Carolus had often come to depend on Sophija for emotional support, and with the exception of the incident a few days prior, she had never let him down.


"What's happening?" she asked after a few moments.


"I miss my dad." he said, choking back tears.


"Its OK, it happens." she replied.


Every so often, Sophija also missed Ygor as he was before everything went to shit, so in this case, she could relate, but she would never say it in front of Carolus. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel guilty for doing what he had to.


"You should get some sleep. You've had a shit few days. Turn off your alarms, I'll handle the greet with Sayed and Latif in the morning." she assured him.


He nodded and finally released her. She parted, but kept a hand on his chest. "I love you, get some sleep, C." she said softly.


"Love you too, Soph." he croaked as he walked away. "I uh…I gotta go see Omar before I get to bed though. Walk with me?"


Sophija nodded with a smile and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly to the best of her ability as they walked in silence. She thought back to when he held her hand as he led her through the crowds at the Brez Cup finals. Novisibraskaya Giants versus Kiroyev Stallions. She could remember like it was yesterday. It was the first time she had seen him loosen up and really be himself as he shouted and cheered from the private box, hanging over the rail, banging on the walls, screaming for Gomorov to shoot. The Gomorov jersey he had bought her still hung in her closet. She had got him one custom made for his birthday the next year, even though Gomorov got traded from Kiroyev to Kalin that season, just because they didn't have them in his size at the game. She'd still see him wear it from time to time, mostly when the game was on. She smiled as the memories flooded back. She looked up at him and laughed before leaning her head on his arm. Truly the greatest friend she could have asked for.


Sophija entered the room first, with Carolus close behind. Omar looked at them confusedly from the couch he had set up so he could sit there and play Men of Honour comfortably.


"What's up?" he asked, somewhat concerned.


"Come here." Carolus mumbled, motioning him over.


Omar slowly rose and walked over to Carolus, who slowly pulled him in and held him tight.


"What is going on right now?" Omar questioned.


Carolus backed away to arms length, his hands on Omar's shoulders.


"I need you to listen to me. I know it's coming out of nowhere, but I need you to really listen." Carolus told him.


Omar could feel that something was off as he looked at Carolus.


"You are my son. I will always love you, and I haven't been good to you lately. Omar, you aren't just a good friend to me, you are my son, and that's not just until I'm gone, that is forever. I will always watch over you, until the end of days." Carolus whispered, his soft eyes searching Omar's face.


Omar let his head drop, and moved into Carolus, beginning to cry. "I just want to make you proud." he said through his tears, his body beginning to heave.


"Shh, shhh. I couldn't be more proud of you, baby boy. You are everything I could have asked for in a son. You are strong, you are smart, you are a warrior. Your tatau tells your story, and that is one of hardship and triumph. I love you, kid. Just…don't forget that." Carolus comforted him.


Omar had been nervous, feeling as if there was a growing disconnect between them for a while now, and this was exactly the assurance he so desperately needed.


Sophija had quietly gone to the closet and pulled her Gomorov jersey from the closet and went into the bathroom to change, re-emerging with it draped over herself like an oversized blanket. It was still too large for her, but she loved it. The sleeves hung down past her hands, and she looked so incredibly happy, albeit a little bit like a clueless child.


Carolus laughed as he remembered how she had begun shrieking for the Novisibraskaya goalie to drop dead from the balcony. "She's a good woman, Omar. Look after her." he whispered.


Omar nodded his head and made his way over to Sophija, jokingly tying her sleeves in a knot as she playfully protested. Carolus watched his once small wards as they laughed with one another, he could still see them clear as day; Omar with those three little lines across his nose, kneeling in a chair as Nicolai pulled coins from his ears, and Sophija, her mousy brown hair and big green eyes wide as she saw him for the first time. He had seen them both at their lowest, and now, they were finally safe and happy.


He quietly backed out, silently closing the door behind him. He made his way back to his quarters, and quietly slipped inside. Alara lay sleeping on the couch in her underwear, half covered by a blanket as she softly snored. Carolus stood and smiled, watching her sleep for a moment before he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to bed before tucking her in. He quietly crept out, taking a moment to make sure she stayed asleep, afterwards, he quietly crept down to the garage.


His mind wandered back and forth, deep diving into his memories over a few beers as he sat in a lawn chair under the open garage door, staring out at the night sky. Every so often, a patrolling guard would wander by, and Carolus would give them a firm nod and raise his can.


Eventually, his head began to nod, so he packed up his chair and made his way to bed. He wrapped his arms around Alara, who shuffled back in towards him, and he peacefully surrendered to the blissful shroud of sleep.


It was around nine in the morning he was awoken by Sophija screaming in the foyer. He jumped from bed, and ran for the door, clad in only his underwear, he grabbed his rifle from its resting place near the door on his way out. He shouldered it and did a sweep over the foyer, spotting Sophija with her hands over her mouth, and Omar holding out a ring. He slowly lowered the rifle and examined the situation before raising his fist and letting out a loud, victorious war cry. Omar quickly spun and returned the gesture as Sophija held her hand up to show off the ring. Alara appeared behind Carolus, her white cotton pajamas flapping as she ran.


"What's going on!?" she shouted.


"DOUBLE WEDDING?!" Sophija shouted, still holding up her hand.


Alara shrieked with jot before running for the stairs, babbling joyful sentiments as she ran.


Carolus quickly ducked back into his room and threw on a faded Kiroyev Death Squad band tee and some pants before running back to join his friends in their celebration.


"Why didn't you say something?!" Alara demanded of Omar.


"I didn't want to overshadow your thing!" Omar replied as Alara hugged him. Sophija ran to Carolus who picked her up in a tight embrace, spinning her around. Today was already cause for celebration, but this…this was truly the start of an amazing day.

WARNING: This post conforms to TNP's PG-13 guidelines, but deals with violence and sexual content.


Carolus stood proudly atop the steps up to the grand oak doors of the palace, arms behind his back as he watched Sayed's limousine pull up the driveway. He felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he descended, his security detail behind him. He had foregone the usual procedure of wearing his full Ephyran armor today, opting instead for the casual dark blue Yamanta officers uniform, a sharp crease down the pant leg, and the shirt sleeves rolled up just beneath the elbow.


Sayed's limo rolled to a stop, and before the driver could exit and open the rear door, Sayed had already emerged from the back, his arms open wide as his rasping laugh filled the still air.


"It is good to see you again my friend." Sayed chuckled as Carolus embraced him.


"Asalaam alaykum, Sayed." Carolus said with a grin. His Rafhazi still rusty, but he would make an attempt. "Did the rat make it?" he continued, lowering his voice as he raised an eyebrow to Sayed.


Sayed motioned to the car as the fat little man awkwardly shuffled out of the vehicle. "Mohammed Latif, welcome back to Yamantau." Carolus said flatly, trying his best not to let his disdain show through in his tone.


Latif did not attempt to shake Carolus' outstretched hand, nor did he truly acknowledge the greeting, but more so looked around miserably as he straightened out his jacket. "Let's get this going." Latif demanded impatiently, brushing past Carolus towards the steps. The Royal Marine Guard leveled their weapons at Latif, who stopped in his tracks, turning back to face Carolus and Sayed.


"This is unacceptable! Aiming a weapon? At me?" Latif shrieked, his eyes wide. Carolus tucked his arms behind his back and swaggered towards him, his eyes cast down, trying to hide the smile.


"My dear Mohammed, you are not in Rafhazan anymore. This is Yamantau, this is not a place where you are in control." Carolus spoke softly, before laying his hand palm up on Latif's shoulder. "Do you understand?" Carolus continued, his tone grave as he wrapped his hand around the back of Latif's neck. Latif's eyes went wide as the grip on his neck tightened. Words escaped him as he nodded, terrified the pale green giant would break his neck.


"Good." Carolus smirked, slowly releasing the now terrified Latif. "Sayed, as my honoured guest, please enter." he continued, motioning the Caliph ahead with a slight bow and an open hand held towards the doors. Latif tried to scurry ahead with Sayed, but was quickly thrown back behind by Carolus.


Sayed and Carolus climbed the steps together, catching up as they strolled, while Latif trailed behind, wringing his hands as he peered about. Sayed very much enjoyed Carolus' company, and the pair often conversed about politics, literature, and religion over the phone, aside from sending one another the odd vulgar meme.


"So tell me, when are you and the Khanum to be wed? When is the Tzarina to be we'd?" Sayed inquired with a smile.


Carolus let out a soft laugh. "Uh…soon, hopefully. Not sure if we're doing a double wedding or what, so we're still very much in the early planning phase." Carolus answered.


Sayed gave him a firm pat on the back as he let out a low chuckle. Carolus guided them towards the grand hall, where Sophija, Alara, and Omar awaited them, as well as the lurking Tariq. A long, ornate table had been set up in the center, with small crystal bowls of snacks and multiple types of drink available.


Sayed beamed as those waiting came forward to greet him.


"Caliph Al-Nasir, it's a pleasure to see you again." Sophija smiled, reaching out to shake Sayed's hand. He smiled and returned the handshake before motioning to one of his men to come forward. The young man quickly stepped forward and knelt down, holding up an ornate wooden box, which Sophija took graciously, her expression quizzical. Another man came forward, this time bearing a larger box for Alara, who also graciously accepted.


"Engagement gifts." Sayed explained with a grin. "From Suhaira and myself."


"Thank you, Caliph Al-Nasir." Alara said sweetly.


"Please, we are friends, call me Sayed." he smiled.


"Well, thank you, Sayed, you're very kind." Sophija interjected, hoping to handle the business before them ahead of any more niceties.


Sayed could feel the tension, but he chose to play it off.


"Please, my friend, sit." Carolus said, motioning to an open seat. "You. Here." he demanded of Latif, pointing to a seat that faced away from the door. Latif very promptly obeyed. He was offered no friendly greeting, but instead immediately reached for a decanter on the table and greedily poured himself a drink, before raising the glass to his lips with a still shaking hand, letting the Tzarina's expensive liquor wash over his rattled nerves. Sayed shot a sideways glance at him, trying to hide his disgust. Carolus seized the glass and slammed it down out of Latif's reach with a menacing glare.


"What have I done to deserve such disrespect?" Latif's voice cracked.


"Are you not a good Mehrabist? You shouldn't be drinking." Carolus sneered.


Latif's eyes dropped to the table top as Carolus sat down, shaking his head.


"The empty seat, who is missing?" Sayed asked kindly, already knowing the answer.


"Kind Caliph, forgive my lateness." a gravely voice rasped from somewhere behind Latif.

Tariq strode through the doorway, escorted by two armed guards carrying a large trunk.


"Please accept this gift as an apology." Tariq motioned to the trunk, lifting the lid. The trunk was stuffed with Al-Jabari headbands and other assorted items taken from the dishonorable dead. Latif looked up at Tariq in horror, frozen in disbelief as Tariq slowly turned his head to face him.


Sayed rose and bowed deeply. "It is I who must apologize, I fear. Please accept my deepest sympathy and regrets." Sayed replied.


"All is forgiven, Kind Caliph." Tariq smiled, reaching out to shake Sayed's hand. The two shared a firm handshake and gentle smile before turned his attention fully to Latif. Slamming a hand down on his shoulder, Tariq smiled, his eyes filled with fury. Latif squealed under Tariq's grasp, a growing wet spot appearing on his trousers.


"You've pissed yourself." Tariq stated as he released Latif's shoulder and circled around to take his seat.


"You pissed on my chairs?" Sophija mocked, looking down her nose at Latif.


Latif's mouth opened and closed as he stared wide-eyed at Tariq sitting next to Carolus. "Answer the Tzarina! Did you piss on her chair?" Sayed demanded.


Latif began to shriek uncontrollably, writhing in his seat as Tariq's smile spread. Sayed rose violently from his seat and delivered a sharp slap to Latif's face. "Keep yourself together." Sayed ordered.


"WHAT IS HE DOING HERE!?" Latif finally managed to shout.


"He's here to make sure you're co-operative." Carolus snarled.


Tariq drew a pistol and placed it on the table, a clear message.


"Down to business." Omar interjected.


"Very well." Sayed replied kindly.


Latif fell silent, he and Tariq not breaking eye contact, the smell of piss beginning to creep across the room.


"It's come to our attention that Al-Jabari has become a major issue in Rafhazan's southern territories. We would like to propose a partnership between our nations in order to help combat this menace and hopefully bring the Warlord Abbass to justice. We can supply weapons, training, armed personnel from Ephyra operating as independent military contractors, whatever equipment may be necessary. Khanum Alara has volunteered her support for this effort as well, as she also has a vested interest in seeing Rafhazan returned to order." Carolus stated, addressing the group. Alara nodded along.


"It is true that our current government has done…poorly, when it comes to handling this situation over the past few years. I am willing to allow these armed personnel free passage through Rafhazan, but I cannot guarantee their passage through Skanda or Diyar." Sayed replied.


"Leave that to us." Omar remarked. "We'll find a way. Diyar may be sympathetic to the cause."


Sayed nodded with a grin. "Of course, it is not up to me, but to our fearless leader in the assembly." he stated, his tone turning to disgust as he motioned to Latif.


"I will not work with you people! You are animals that ally yourselves with murderers and djinn!" Latif barked back.


Tariq picked up the pistol and loaded the magazine which he drew from his breast pocket before pulling back the slide and putting it back down on the table.


Latif now realized his situation. "You wouldn't dare." his eyes narrowed as he nervously glanced around.


"Maybe this will change your mind." Omar cut in again, motioning one of the guards forward, who handed Omar a thick folder. Omar then threw the folder down the table, photos and documents spilling out as it slid along. Latif reached out with a shaking hand to pick up a very clear picture of himself engaged in sexual acts with a young boy. His eyes went wide as the full weight of the situation crashed in. There was no way out.


"These…these are fake!" his voice cracking as he looked to Sayed with pleading eyes. Sayed looked away, sharply sucking his teeth. The Rafhazi men with the group looked at Latif in disgust.


"YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME!" Latif shrieked as he slammed his fists on the table.


"We can, and we will, you fucking pedophile." Carolus snapped, slapping the glass he had earlier snatched from Latif onto the floor, shattering it. Alara inhaled sharply as she watched her love angrily circle the table towards Latif, grabbing Tariq's pistol and forcing under Latif's chin. She had heard stories from Sophija about his wrath, but she had never truly seen it.


Latif whimpered as Carolus pushed harder.


"You are nothing. You are a fucking worm, and were it my decision, I would shatter every bone in your body before I gave you the mercy of death." Carolus growled. Sophija and Omar sat stone faced, while Alara squirmed in her seat, a growing heat causing her to shift. Sayed sat back and watched.


Latif began to weep, and pissed himself again. "Bring the papers." Carolus quickly demanded. Another guard stepped forward, handing Carolus a stack of documents.


"This is an agreement between heads of state to provide military support. You will sign it in every spot indicated. If you attempt to destroy the document I'll break your fucking face before I put another one in front of you and make you start again. Do you understand?" Carolus ordered. Latif gently nodded. "Good." Carolus hissed, pulling a pen from his shirt pocket and throwing it against Latif's face.


Latif signed the first few pages before gripping the pen firmly and dragging it down the page, deciding, poorly, to test Carolus' threat. Carolus kept good on his promise, pulling Latif from his seat and delivering a series of thunderous, crushing blows against Latif's skull, shattering his orbital socket and cheek bone, leaving one side of his face a bloody, shattered mess. Latif cried out as Carolus slammed him back into his seat, nearly sending him toppling over. "TRY ME AGAIN!" Carolus bellowed as all the other occupants of the room struggled to keep their composure at the gruesome sight of Latif's broken face. "Do it again, and I'll break your arm." Carolus snarled.


Latif reached for the pen, struggling to see as he shakily signed the new stack of papers in front of him as he breathed heavily, every breath a painful experience.


He paused on the last page, debating on whether it was better to sign, or receive another savage beating.


"SIGN IT." Carolus demanded, pushing his finger down on the line. Latif did as he was told, fearing that Carolus would make good on his promise. He slowly pushed the stack of papers away, looking down at the floor, at the pool of piss and droplets of blood that collected between his feet. Sayed took the papers and quickly signed the documents before passing them off to Sophija and Alara, who followed suit.


"Break his arms anyways." Sayed said coldly, lifting his gaze from the table to Carolus.


"Are you sure?" Carolus asked, his gaze stony.


Sayed nodded as Latif began to panick, trying to scramble away. Carolus grabbed his arm and again threw him to the floor, pulling his arm behind his back and beginning to put pressure on Latif's elbow and rotator cuff as he twisted.


"Wait." Tariq demanded. Carolus stopped immediately, his respect for Tariq far outweighing his wrath towards to Latif.


"I will handle this. Great Caliph…do I have your blessing?" Tariq said quietly, solemnly asking Sayed a thinly veiled question.


Sayed's eyes lowered in quiet contemplation.


"Al-Aziz forgive me." Sayed whispered before nodding gently. Tariq's eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "According to hadith, Mohammed Latif has violated the laws of Mehrab in such a way that his punishment must be so. He has visited such harm on small children, and gone against every principle we hold dear. He has made a mockery of Rafhazan and her people, he is no better than the Aydini dogs." Tariq stated, his tone cold.


"I know, but it does not lessen the weight. Do you not feel the weight of all those you have taken?" Sayed asked. The rest of the group unsure what was happening, they exchanged nervous glances.


"I felt nothing but recoil." Tariq replied coldly. Sayed rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You are guaranteed reprisal under our laws, Tariq. I do not agree with your methods, but I will not deprive you of your closure, of your vengeance." Sayed sighed.


Tariq bowed deeply before gently laying a hand on Carolus' shoulder. "Release him, little one." Tariq told him. Carolus slowly released the pressure, Latif curling up into a little ball on the floor. "Like we discussed, it will look like an accident, while his reputation is destroyed. He will not be a martyr to the Rafhazi people." Tariq whispered to Carolus. Carolus nodded firmly as he rose. Tariq pulled Latif to his feet before grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and leading him away.


Carolus watched them exit before turning his attention back to the table. "Sayed, I know you don't agree, but this is for the best." Carolus stated after a moment of silence.


Sayed considered his words for a moment. "It is not that I do not agree with the outcome, I will admit I wished for this many nights. It is the fact that he was not exposed for who he was during his lifetime. He will remain a tragic figure afterwards, the questions surrounding what has transpired here today will be asked for years. I have many secrets, and this one shall go with me to my grave, confessed only to Al-Aziz." Sayed explained, before shifting his eyes up to Carolus. "My only regret of today will be that you did not break his arms." he finished coldly. Sophija let out a soft gasp as she turned her head.



Alara again shifted in her seat, she was not so easily affected by the events of the last hour, and instead stared at Carolus with nothing but desire, her warrior king.


"You must excuse me for now. I must pray for forgiveness." Sayed said quietly before rising from his seat and making a silent exit.


Sophija waited until Sayed was out of earshot before turning sharply to Carolus, her gaze furious. "You didn't tell me that was the fucking plan." she hissed.


Carolus exhaled sharply before tucking a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it, the flame reflecting in the spattered blood up his arm and across his cheek. He took a long drag before slowly letting the smoke creep out of his mouth. He knew Alara was watching him, he could feel it, and he knew she enjoyed the show.


"Dude!" Sophija shouted in exasperation.


"Plans change." Carolus croaked. "You want him back our there fucking kids?" he asked.


Sophija started to speak but stopped herself. She knew better than to fight him on this. "You could have told her at least." Omar chimed in.


"You were supposed to." Carolus immediately snapped back.


"Oh my fucking God." Sophija groaned, letting her head fall into her hands. "Alara? Did you know?" Sophija asked.


Alara let out a soft "mm-hmm" without breaking eye contact with Carolus.


"Will someone PLEASE FUCKING LET ME KNOW WHEN SOMEONE IS GETTING KILLED IN MY FUCKING HOUSE?!" Sophija screamed, storming out of the room. Omar jumped up and chased after her, Carolus turning to follow before Alara grabbed his hand. He turned to face her and found her eyes wild with desire he hadn't seen for some time.


"Fix it later." she gasped, pushing her mouth into his. He pushed back into her before she gently pushed him away, moving over to the door and slamming it shut, dropping the bar across it, leaving just the two of them in the room. She reached up under her dress and quickly pulled down her underwear, letting them fall to the floor as she advanced on him. A wild smile spread across his face as he met her halfway. She again pushed her mouth against his, forcing her tongue against his passionately. She reached for his belt as she walked backwards dragging him with her towards the proud Yamanta throne, hewn from solid oak with its blood red upholstery. He reached up to unbutton his shirt, electing instead to tear it away and discard it on the floor before beginning to lift her dress.


She grasped him firmly and began to tease as he lifted her dress up and over her head, throwing it violently aside. He pushed in, biting down hard on her shoulder before kissing his way up her neck as she let out a soft moan. He let out a low animal growl in her ear as she caressed him. As they neared the throne, she spun and pushed him into it, his chest heaving as his pants fell around his thighs. He looked upon his queen in all her nude splendor as she ran her hands along her body and between her legs.


She slowly lowered herself to her knees before him and continued her sensuous assault.


"I kneel only for my king." she groaned, taking him in her hand.


Carolus let his head drop against the back of the throne as he felt her engulf him, thrusting his hips in rhythm. She let him enjoy it as she worked her way over him again and again before rising up and again kissing him. He wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her in as he reached between her thighs, feeling her heat. "I need you so fucking bad." she whimpered, climbing on top of him as he gripped on to her hips.


She whimpered again as they began to move in sync, his grip on her hips tightening as she sped up, reaching up to grab the top of the throne and steady herself as her hips bucked against him. She continued to pick up speed until he buried his face into her chest and muttered a string of obscenities so vile that even he was surprised. She pushed his head back against the throne, forcing him to look at her as she breathed heavily. His body began to shudder as she slammed against him, her free hand moving to his shoulder as she arched her back, her long hair falling along her chest as she whimpered and begged for him. Finally, he jerked repeatedly, gripping into her so violently she cried out his name, echoing through the great hall as she began to slow down, both trying to catch their breath as they again kissed, fighting back and forth.


"My queen." he breathed heavily, looking up at her. The weight of their current situation fading into the ether as she collapsed into him, her body still trembling.


She began to laugh, pushing her hair from her face as she blew out a breath. "Go fix your fuck up." she said tauntingly, nipping at his lower lip before dismounting and gathering her discarded clothing, leaving him panting, slumped in the throne, his arms hanging over the sides.

Bloodsport by Sleep Token

"SO WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?" Carolus raised his voice. Sophija sat back and rubbed the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm herself.


"Listen, fuckstick, just stop killing people in the house, ok?" she pleaded, her patience at an end.


"Ok, I will, stop yelling at me about shit that can't be changed." he snapped back, leaning against the table in front of Sophija.


"Ok, fine, I will. Hug it out, I love you." she sighed, quickly embracing him. He returned the gesture and ruffled her hair.


"Ok, good, love you too, kid. Stop freaking out. Tariq is good at what he does, so it'll look like Latif got fucked up at a whorehouse, then got beat up by the security, ended up crashing his rental trying to flee. It's no big deal." he chattered.


She stepped back and gave him a cold stare for a second as he rubbed the back of his neck. Her gaze softened as she let out the breath that had caught in her chest.


"I promised you I'd stop making you do terrible shit, but you're just kinda doing it on your own now. Is everything, like…Ok?" she asked, shuffling her feet.


He let out a sharp breath, the corners of his mouth tucking in tight. "Yeah, things are OK as they can be." he finally answered.


"What does that mean?" she asked, motioning for him to turn around.


He did as told and faced the wall as she changed into clothes that were a little more comfortable. "Tariq gave me a note from my dad the other day and it fucked me up severely." he explained, popping a cigarette into his mouth.


"I don't know Soph, it made me realize that I miss Ephyra, I hate being away from Alara for months at a time. It's just….yeah."


"Well why don't you go hang out in Pua Pua every couple weeks? Not like we can't manage without you here." she replied with a shrug, pulling on one of Omar's oversized hoodies. "You can turn around again."


"I can't though, that's the thing. If I'm not here, who looks after you?" he asked, slowly turning back to face her as she crawled into bed. She looked him up and down with a contorted expression before patting the bed next to her and sliding over.


Carolus again sharply exhaled and slowly climbed in next to her, sitting up against the headboard.


"Right, so here's the thing. I'm a grown woman. My fiance is here, all the staff are here, Tariq is likely going to end up staying here instead of his hovel back in Ephyra, and yeah, I already talked to him about it, so don't look so surprised. C, you're free to do whatever you want at this point. What was the original purpose of making you Lord Protector?" she chattered, finally getting to her point.


"So that you could claim the throne without a husband." he replied, taking a drag from his cigarette before passing it to her.


"Yeah, and now, Omar is my fiance, and once we get married, that makes him…?" she trailed off, waiting for Carolus to finish the sentence.


"The unluckiest man on Eras?" Carolus grinned.


"Man, fuck you." she laughed, handing him back his cigarette. "It means you're off the hook." she said, still laughing.


"Oh so you don't need me no more." he stated blankly.


Sophija seemed caught off guard by the comment, and stared hard at him. "I'm always going to need you." she replied softly. "At this point in my life, you've been there for me more than Ygor ever was, and I barely remember my mom. Not having you in my life would probably kill me, so don't say shit like that." she croaked.


"Well don't tell me I'm off the hook then, like I'm stuck here, waiting for you to die. I know I could just up and leave at any point. But you mean more to me than pursuing my own ambitions." he halfway scolded.


"Ok, but I can't be your entire life." Sophija fired back.


"Soph, for the past eight years, I have been there as soon as you woke up, and a lot of nights, yours was the last face I'd see. The nights I slept in an armchair, watching you sleep off another traumatic encounter with Ygor, the days we'd go out into the city and you'd force me to be your friend. Those mean something. Those mean absolutely everything. It's routine now. It's built into the code." he explained.


She looked over to him and blinked, her eyes already becoming puffy and wet.


"Everything?" she asked.


"Everything." he repeated.


She leaned against his arm, and let out a soft breath, trying to stop herself from crying. She started thinking back on the last six years, reminiscing on the good and bad, remembering it was Carolus that was always there on the darkest days trying to make things better.


"So, what's it gonna be?" she finally asked.


"I'll probably go back with Alara this time, stay for a bit, then come back. It'll give me time to figure my shit out." he sighed, looking out the window at the dreary grey sky.


"What do you miss the most about Ephyra, other than Alara I mean." she asked curiously.


"The icey stillness of the mornings in the winter months, the blast of ocean air and the spray on your skin. The water is deep, and cold, but it's also beautiful. The fishermen in their cable-knit sweaters that nod to you as you walk the docks, eager to discuss their latest adventure. It's…everything. Yamantau has been my home for the better part of a decade, but it's not the same." he seemed to ramble before drifting off.


"It sounds more like you miss the sea." Sophija grumbled, her eyes growing heavy.


"Could be." Carolus replied.


Sophija began to snore gently, so he quietly shifted off the bed and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. He smiled as she groggily snatched up the hem of the fleece blanket and pulled it towards her chin.


He tiptoed from the room and made a great effort to close the door silently, gently twisting the knob to prevent the latch from making any noise.


He quickly made his way to his quarters and put on an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt with an embroidered Zakhaev Arms logo on the right breast. He then made his way to the east wing to find Sayed. The Caliph's entourage were nowhere to be found, leaving the east wing eerily quiet. Sayed sat on the balcony with a cup of coffee in hand, staring at the skyline of Tagtaryev.


"See anything interesting?" Carolus asked, leaning against the railing.


"I see forgotten glories laid out in every which direction. Legacies of long dead kings left to rot in the filth that has built in the gutters. How do you remain comfortable here?" Sayed asked, his tone filled with what could be taken as disgust.


"I'm not. I'm here to ensure that Sophija is safe, nothing more, nothing less. Until the day she doesn't need me, I'll make do." Carolus replied flatly, looking out towards the city.


"You stay out of loyalty, you administer the most brutal of tactics to ensure obedience of all who stand before the Tzarina, but have you ever considered you are doing more harm than good?" Sayed inquired, even though he knew what the answer would be.


"Weird way to say that Sophija and Omar can't take care of themselves." Carolus quickly snapped back. "I'm doing what I need to for when I'm gone."


Sayed shifted in his seat, looking for the words he wanted carefully.


"Will you be happy that your son is marrying her?" he finally asked, curiously eyeing Carolus.


"What the fuck kind of question is that? Of course." Carolus spat, somewhat frustrated.


"Mm, so do you think that he will be able to protect her the way you have? Do you think he will do whatever it takes for his people? Have you considered that he is still a child? My friend, you place too much faith in unproven souls." Sayed stated dryly.


Carolus squinted at Sayed for a moment, almost dumbfounded that he would say these things.


"How is he unproven?" Carolus carefully questioned.


"He has known the intimate love of a woman, he has known the earthly pleasures of wine, song, and smoke, he has seen the tremendous violence that you have practiced in order to retain control, yet he is soft. He leans on you, and on his mother relentlessly. If you are to leave, he will collapse and follow." Sayed warned.


"He wouldn't." Carolus assured him. "Sayed, what the hell is this about?"


"I simply wish to assure myself that the people I trust will not let me down." Sayed said calmly, motioning to the seat next to him.


Carolus sat, leaning forward.


"Well what can I do to ease your worries?" Carolus asked.


Sayed gently scratched at his graying beard and considered some options.


"Come to Rafhazan. Fight against Al-Jabari for a time. You and the boy both." he finally suggested.


"How long?" Carolus asked.


"As long as it takes Omar to become a man." Sayed answered.


"Fair enough. Let me talk to him and Soph in the morning, and we'll figure it out." Carolus let out a heavy sigh as he sat back.


"Mm, of course." Sayed nodded before taking a sip from his coffee.


_________________________


Hours passed before Carolus finally retreated to his chambers to find Alara on the couch watching some trashy reality TV show, a bunch of vapid, vain, twenty-somethings locked in a house for six weeks, seeing if one of them could win a bit of money.


"These stupid assholes again?" he asked with a disappointed tone.


"Oh come on, they're fun!" Alara scoffed. "So what did Sayed say?"


"That me and Omar gotta go fight Al-Jabari firsthand if he's gonna trust us, so we're going." Carolus sighed.


Alara snapped around and stared, mouth opening and closing silently as if looking for the words.


"When?" she finally asked.


"Next month. We'll be gone for…I don't know, a while. Sayed says we gotta stick it out until Omar is a man or some silly shit." Carolus growled, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter.


Alara stayed quiet for a moment. "Well do you want to go with the Jomsvikingr Corps or the Ekspedisjonsstyrker?" she asked.


"Huh…thought you'd take that worse. Uh…probably link up with Fahz and the expeditionaries if they'll have us." he replied wearily.


"Well I'm not super happy about it, but it's not really like we have a choice. It's either this or what…Sayed talks about what happened today? No thanks. If this means a safe future for Omar and Soph, and good ties between us, the Rafhazi, and the Yamanta, then I'll do what I can to help out." Alara explained as Carolus sat next to her, sinking back into the couch as he let out a groan.


"This is going to be such a massive shit show." Carolus moaned, rubbing his eyes.


"Yeah, it is, but we'll get through it. Does Omar know yet?" Alara asked shyly.


"Yeah…yeah he does. He's indifferent. He's gonna tell Soph, she's gonna come in here and yell at me." Carolus smirked.


As if on cue, the door of Carolus' quarters slowly opened and Sophija slipped inside, quietly closing it behind her, never breaking eye contact with Carolus.


A tense moment passed as Sophija silently crossed the space between them and sat on the edge of the coffee table, her hands clasped as she studied the Ephyran's face.


"Soph…" Alara began before Sophija held up a silencing hand.


Carolus and Sophija seemed to have a silent conversation, words thrown back and forth with nothing but quick flicks of the eyes and furrowed brows.


"You don't even want this to happen, do you?" Sophija finally broke the silence.


"Obviously not, kiddo. I don't like being told to take my son to some desert in order to prove some macho bullshit to Sayed." he sighed, sitting forward, their faces only a foot away.


"This is why you need to listen to me sometimes. This is why you don't just hurt and kill people. I can take care of things on my own, C. I can do all this shit myself. If I want someone gone, I'll say so. If I want someone imprisoned, I'll say so. But I am not my father, and this is not the Yamantau we're trying to build. No more. Get this shit over with, then come home, and we can finally start fresh. Omar and I can get married, you can go back to Ephyra and be Khan alongside Alara, and we can carry on with our lives." Sophija said softly.


"Ouch, kid." Carolus croaked.


Sophija stood and strolled out without another word.


Alara waited until she could he sure Sophija was out of earshot before turning back to Carolus. "What was that, that just happened there?" she asked.


"She's mad." Carolus stated flatly.


"Well yeah, but how that interaction went was beyond odd. She's more of the screaming and yelling type when she's mad." Alara said.


"Mad is probably not the right word. That there, was her equivalent of grabbing me by the ears and telling me to go fuck myself, and she was being so polite because she's trying to stop herself from hitting me." Carolus explained. "I'll talk to her in the morning." he said quietly, groggily starting to fall asleep.

“Hey, turn the fuck around and talk to me.” Carolus pleaded with Sophija.


Sophija finally slammed her palms off the countertop and took a deep breath.


“What?” she snapped.


“You've been shutting me out for three days, what do you mean, what? I don't want to go. Omar, does not want to go. We have to go or Sayed talks.” Carolus stated, emphasizing with his hands.


“Listen, listen to me. Listen….you, yes you, fucked up. You now have to deal with the consequences that you made for yourself. You now have to dealing with your own stupid fucking mistakes!” she shouted, her usually solid Mercanti breaking down. Her usually slight accent becoming thicker. He had never seen her so angry that she reverted to angry babushka.


She took a moment to center herself, because she heard it too. She exhaled sharply.


“You decided to go outside our standard operating procedures in such a spectacular fashion that you ended up dragging us all with you. You're going, absolutely, but if Omar doesn't make it back, I'll….” she began, thinking before she finished the sentence.


“Go ahead, finish that thought. Tell me you'll have me executed. Go ahead.” he prodded.


“Being an asshole isn't helping your case.” she sighed.


“And shutting me out and making threats isn't helping yours.” he made the counter-argument.


“I meant what I said. You've become something else entirely. You're an absolute maniac, and I…I can't have you here if that's what you're doing. I won't let you endanger the people in my care, or in this palace. Do you understand how often the staff come to me, hoping you don't decide to just turn them inside out because you feel like it? It's terrifying. And their fears aren't lost on me. I feel it when I look at you lately too. You're not you anymore, no matter how many times you say otherwise or argue the contrary, you are turning into a fucking monster.” she stammered, carefully putting the kitchen island between them.


Carolus glared at her, carefully considering his next words. He chose not to speak. His expression softened as he sat at the kitchen table and lit a cigarette. He tossed the half empty paper pack onto the table, followed shortly by his lighter. He studied her carefully before waving her over.


“Come sit down.” he said quietly. Sophija crossed her arms and slowly walked toward him. She stood in front of him and looked into his cold yellow eyes. “You promised me.” she choked, the tears already welling in her eyes.


“I know.” he admitted, letting his head drop. Sophija stepped forward and pushed his head back up, forcing him to look at her.


“You swore to me, and I believed you. You were supposed to take care of us.” her lip quivered as she brushed his hair from his face. He wrapped his hands around her back and pulled her in, resting his forehead against her stomach.


“And I will.” he shuddered as her arms rested on his shoulders.


“Be better, C. For me, for her, for Omar, for the little one. This isn't some shitty movie where the hero turns into a villain and just gets to walk away. These things have consequences.” her voice wobbled and cracked as she spoke.


“That is my child. I'll do what I have to.” he murmured, placing a hand on her belly. “Does anyone know?” he continued.


“No. Just like we agreed, Omar will think it's his. Alara will never know, and it dies with us.” she remarked sadly.


He rose from his seat and pulled her close, her arms wrapping around his immense torso, burying her face into the fabric of his shirt. He glared coldly into the distance, not quite at the wall, but almost through it. They had given in and made a terrible mistake, and now an awful little secret kicked against her belly. He hadn't considered the consequences when she was laid out in the backseat of the Blockade Runner, and now he had to carefully navigate the situation. If he pushed too hard, she might tell somebody, so for now, he had to play along.


“We'll be alright.” he uttered softly, gently swaying back and forth.


“Ok.” she replied. She was ashamed still, questioning why she had given in that night. It was cathartic for both of them, but in the end meant nothing, and now she would always bear a reminder of her failure. She loved him in her heart, if she was being honest with herself, but she also knew what he was capable of. She almost hoped he didn't make it back from Rafhazan, just for some type of easy way out. She almost wished that he would die in the sand, and that his terrifying presence would never darken these halls again, because she knew that at the same time, she hated him for what he had done. She hated who he had become while she stood by and watched, or even encouraged it at times.


“Did you mean what you said?” she asked, referring to the moment when he told her she was so beautiful in the moonlight, that he only wanted her.


“Yes.” he lied, still staring straight ahead. He could kill her. He could kill her right now, all he had to do was break her neck and throw her down the stairs, and it would be a terrible accident. His grip tightened, and the constant whispers that filled his mind swelled to a roar. He couldn't. He had cared for her for years, and to destroy something so small, so fragile, the gods would never forgive him. In his own way, he loved her, but he knew it wasn't the same way she loved him.


“What if we don't make it back? What's your plan?” he inquired.


“I don't know.” she admitted, digging her hands into his shirt.


“What if Omar doesn't come back?” he said it so casually, as if to suggest it could become a possibility if she wanted it to be.


“Then you're stuck with me. If I'm not married, there has to be a Lord Protector.” she answered, well aware what he was suggesting.


“Mm.” he grunted. He couldn't trust himself with her. He had already twisted and manipulated her to the point he knew she would break if he pushed any further, and he had got what he wanted. Wealth, power, armies, Alara. The only thing that stood between him and his end goal was a girl with mousy brown hair and sad green eyes.


“What do you want me to do when we come back?” he finally asked.


She stepped back and looked up at him.


“I want you gone. I want you to disappear. I want to forget your hands on my body, I want to forget the taste of your lips, I want to forget the sound of your breath in my ear. I can't look at you without seeing you holding Ygor's head up like some sort of hard fought trophy after you killed him in his bed. I don't want to remember you standing there covered in blood after you beat that poor man within an inch of his life. I don't want to think about how you fucked her in my throne while I cried in my room. I do not want you in my home. Bring Omar back to me.” she told him, backing up a little more with every emphasized wish to forget.


“Fine.” he said coldly. “I'll go. You will never see me again. You will never see my face in these halls for the rest of your natural life. But you mark my words, Soph, you'll never truly be free of me as long as that child is around. You will always remember those things, you will always remember my face as you held onto me afterwards and told me that you loved me.” he growled, before he turned on his heel and left.


She slumped against the counter and tried to stop herself from crying. It was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she knew it was for the best.