#ECBATANA

[whencyclopedia]

Medes

The Medes or Medians were a group of Indo-Iranian-speaking people from central Asia who migrated westwards and entered northern Iran around the end of the 2nd millennium BCE. They settled in the highlands of Zagros (Zagreus in Greek) and, by the end of the 7th century BCE, founded the kingdom of Media (Mada in Old Persian).

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[ernestdescalsartwok]

CATAFRACTOS-ARTE-PINTURA-ACUARELAS-CABALLOS-ACORAZADOS-HIERRO-CABALLERIA-IMPERIO PERSA-PINTOR-ERNEST DESCALS por Ernest Descals Por Flickr: CATAFRACTOS-ARTE-PINTURA-ACUARELAS-CABALLOS-ACORAZADOS-HIERRO-CABALLERIA-IMPERIO PERSA-PINTOR-ERNEST DESCALS- La Caballería del Imperio Persa tenía algunas unidades de CATAFRACTOS en periodo experimental, cuando llegó ALEJANDRO MAGNO los destinó en retaguardia por su lentitud, básicamente en Susa y Ecbatana, estos caballeros blindados y sus caballos acorazados con planchas de hierro no le servían para el muy veloz Ejército Macedonio, más que nada tenían una función decorativa y de intimidación. Pintura del artista pintor Ernest Descals con acuarelas sobre papel de 27 x 35 centímetros, sumando obras en la Colección de Arte dedicada al Rey conquistador de Macedonia.

[whencyclopedfr]

Mèdes

Les Mèdes étaient un groupe de personnes de langue indo-iranienne originaires d'Asie centrale qui migrèrent vers l'ouest et pénétrèrent dans le nord de l'Iran vers la fin du deuxième millénaire avant notre ère. Ils s'installèrent sur les hauts plateaux du Zagros (Zagreus en grec) et, à la fin du VIIe siècle avant notre ère, fondèrent le royaume de Médie (Mada en vieux-persan).

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[innerchorus]

Dark clouds approaching Ecbatana from the direction of Mount Damavand...

Mount Damavand itself, as pictured in Chapter 34. Note the lightning bolts that are also seen in the above left image from Chapter 132.

I'm reminded of the title of the 10th novel: 'A Gathering of Clouds.' Maybe that's a future chapter title? But what I really want to know is whether those clouds contain any winged apes. Or is Zahhak himself almost here?

[daryun]

Chapter 28

Farangis: Lord Daryun, you hesitated to strike down Zandeh, did you not?

Daryun: You noticed?

Farangis: So, am I right?

Daryun: I can’t count the number of men I’ve killed in their saddles. But I’ve never killed a man who fell from his horse without giving him the chance to get himself up.

Farangis: You would afford that even to a man who fights like a wild, frenzied beast? You are too soft.

Daryun: I agree.

Chapter 120

(Daryun walks up to a Lusitanian soldier sitting on the floor in terror. Daryun takes the spear from the soldier’s trembling hands saying “I’ll take that”. Daryun calls for Shabrang and rides away, while the sitting Lusitanian solder and another watch Daryun depart in disbelief(?) and exhaustion)

[daryun]

You won't get away with this

'Hahahaaaaaa!'

'Catch her!'

'Thief! Thief!'

'Yeah sure, slow mole' She said, jumping up a pile of boxes to land on the balcony.I continued to run before sliding down and run back on the roads.

I looked at the brown sack that contained 1001 pieces of gold in it and some jellewery from the market. I jumped up some boes and ran on top of the rooftops. I balanced on the edges of building and settled down.

'Phew, looks like nothing fell out.....' I said, weighing the sack.

'There!' A voice shouted. I turned around and saw the jellewery man with five Pars guards. I turned to them.

'Peacee bitchhhesssssss' I said, falling back like I was a feather in the breeze.

'Woohoooooooooo' I said, feeling the wind hit my back. I landed safety on the ground. I cartwheeled around as i ran between the citizens of Ecbatana.

'Catch her! You will pay, you monkey!'

'Monkey? Oh well I'll take it' I said, running away in a corridor. I sheepily laughed as I skipped some steps, eyes closed.

First, I will buy some new clothes

Second I will eat some of that fancy steak

Third I am going to ste-

'Woah!'

'Hah?'I said, opening my eyes.

I was a bit startled, but not so much as the white head in my arms.

'A child'I said.

'Y-yes'

'Oh uhhh, sorry stumbling on you-HEEEHHH MY MONEY!'I said as my eyes landed on the sack on the ground all my hard worked gold coins on the ground.

I pushed the white head away and crouch down to collected my money. The child was pushed against the ground.

'Wa!'

'YOUR HIGHNESS!'

'Oh shit a marzban!' I said, running away.

'Wait highness?!'I said turning around. The white head was still on the ground, rubbing the side of his head.

'Uh Oh' I said as it hit me. And as it hit, I took a full sprint

'STOP'

'No wait Daryun don't shoot her!'

Shoot?!

I jumped up the wall and poofed away.

I reached the rooftop far away as i counted my money.....fuc-700 gold pieces?! aw.

[bobemajses]

Esther, wife of the Persian king Ahasuerus, and her cousin Mordechai saved the lives of thousands of Jews in Susa from the intrigues of the king’s chief commander, Haman, as described in the biblical book of Esther, and is enacted every Purim in all the Jewish communities of the world. Ecbatana, the former capital of the Medes, and in our times Hamadan, was the summer residence of the Persian kings, to which Esther and Mordechai are said to have retired from the court after the death of Ahasuerus. Here they were buried in a common tomb, which is still the most important Jewish pilgrimage site in Iran.

We do not know how the original tomb looked. The modern building was constructed in 1602, in the time of Shah Abbas the Great. It follows with its double inner space, burial chamber, community room, and the dome crowning the tomb, the type of the Shiite pilgrimage sites erected for the emamzâdehs, the descendants of the holy Imams. As the first picture above shows, in the early 19th century it still stood outside of the city, but by the end of the century the local bazaar flowed around it. Thousands of Jews from Iran and other countries visited this place every year, covering a grueling trip to the desert surrounding Hamadan on foot or with caravan. According to contemporary travelogues, one could approach the tomb only with a local, through a maze of doorways and inner courtyards, with the way to the sarcophagi leading through a small rose garden and an ornate gate.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I'm looking for fics set in ancient history, preferably including extensive descriptions of the ancient cultures. I don't mind NSFW, but mainly I'm looking for a good story and interesting plot. The longer the fic, the better!

If it helps, I really enjoyed "Do You Know What Eternity Is?" by Elderly_Worm and the "Mistakes Were Made" series by eag

Thanks! 💕

Hello. You can check our #through the ages tag for fics. Here are some more to add that feature different cultures...

Camel-travel star-gazing by Sad_Wet_Bretzel (G)

Crowley had tilted his head back. His eyes were still covered by dark lenses and Aziraphale wished he would just take them off. It was night, and the nearest human was twenty metres away, their back turned to them. “See that one?” the demon said suddenly, pointing eastward. “S’ one of my favourites.” or Aziraphale and Crowley are assigned to the same caravan, travelling from the Ghana Empire to the Mediterranean Sea across the Saharan plains. The perfect cover to innocently spend time together.

some chocolate to sweeten the deal by Enelica, sevdrag (G)

“Heathens.” Crowley snorts. “Did you know they’ve already discovered four of the planets? Lot of work went into those, let me tell you, and these clever bastards have spotted four of them already. Britannia should weep.” Aziraphale’s smile softens in pleasure. The angel’s too soft over humanity, and unfortunately, it’s one of the things Crowley likes best about him. “Did you know they’re only eight hundred and ninety years off calculating when the earth began?�� The angel glances away, and Crowley has to cover a sharp breath at Aziraphale’s profile, pale and happy. “That’s the closest anyone’s gotten, I believe.” (Written for the Days Of Their Lives zine with incredible art by Enelica!)

we'll get there fast, and then we'll take it slow by in_deepest_blue (T)

"Hurry over like a horse, but take your time like an ox laden with treasures." One summer in late 19th-century Japan, Aziraphale learns about a fascinating tradition during Obon, the festival to honor the deceased, which reminds him of his hopes for a future with Crowley. A look into four different stages in Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship, all set in Japan during different seasons and time periods.

A Juhannus Night's Dream by kittygirl2210 (G)

Aziraphale is sent up to Finland to bless a Midsummer festival, Crowley goes with her on her own "assignment". The pair thus get roped into helping with the celebrations. Aziraphale and Crowley are fem presenting in this, and it takes place between Edinburgh and St. James' Park! (Note: contains some Finnish Fem!Aziracrow art!)

The snake of healing by Sad_Wet_Bretzel (G)

Aziraphale stared at Crowley, who stared back. The angel looked the same, if a little travel worn. His river coloured eyes crinkled slightly at the sides as he took in his friend’s appearance. Crowley tightened her trembling fists, nails digging into the skin. or After a particularly nasty punishment from Hell, Crowley retreats in the Chicama Valley and becomes an artisan. Aziraphale comes to find her.

Mistakes Were Made: The Book of Crowley by eag (M)

Based on the biblical Book of Tobit from the Apocrypha. Ephesus, 400 B.C. Commanded away from Aziraphale's side by an infernal master, Crowley is forced to use his time-stopping powers for Asmodeus' dirty work while Aziraphale is left wondering why Crowley has disappeared. As Crowley sinks ever deeper into despair, Aziraphale is sent on a journey accompanying a human from Nineveh to Ecbatana. Of course, mistakes were made...

- Mod D

[paganimagevault]

Gold clasp of eagle, possibly belonging to the House of Karen, 1st-2nd C. CE. Found in Nahavand. The House of Karen seems to have been descended from the Parni, who were themselves an offshoot of the Scythians. Ernst Herzfeld wrote that this item probably belonged to their house.

"House of Karen (Middle Persian: Kārēn; Parthian: 𐭊𐭓𐭍𐭉, romanized: Kārēn; Persian: کارن, romanized: Kārin or Kāren), also known as Karen-Pahlav (Kārēn-Pahlaw) was one of the Seven Great Houses of Iran during the rule of Parthian and Sassanian Empires. The seat of the dynasty was at Nahavand, about 65 km south of Ecbatana (present-day Hamadan, Iran). Members of House of Karen were of notable rank in the administrative structure of the Sassanian empire in multiple periods of its four century-long history.

The Karens, Karan-Vands, Qarinvand dynasty or Karen-Pahlevi as they are also called, claimed descent from Karen, a figure of folklore and son of the equally mythical Kaveh the Blacksmith. Their historical origin however may be that the Karens, along with the House of Mihran, were descended from the Arsacids. According to Movses Khorenatsi, this descent was via one of the three sons of Phraates IV, also named Karen. The fact that Karen may also have been among the family names of the Arsacid dynasty may give credence to this theory.

The first verified reference to the Karenas was during the Arsacid era, specifically as one of the feudal houses affiliated with the Parthian court. In this they were similar to the House of Suren, the only other attested feudal house of the Parthian period. Following the conquest of the Parthians, the Karenas allied themselves with the Sassanids, at whose court they were identified as one of the so-called "Parthian clans". The Armenian Kamsarakan family was a branch of the House of Karen."

-taken from Wikipedia

[mapsontheweb]

West Asian empires in the 6th century BC

“TaschenAtlas – Weltgeschichte”, Klett-Perthes Verlag, 2004

via cartesdhistoire

According to Herodotus ("Histories", Book I), Deioces became king of the Medes in 701 BCE in western Iran. He united the six Median tribes and repelled Assyria's influence from his capital, Ecbatana. His grandson Cyaxares destroyed the Assyrian Empire with the help of the Babylonians (612 BCE), and then they divided its remnants. Cyaxares also destroyed the kingdoms of the Mannaeans and Urartu and advanced into Asia Minor, where the Halys River became the border with Lydia (585 BCE). His son Astyages succumbed to the Persians in 550 BCE, and Media became a satrapy.

In western Media, Nabopolassar founded the Chaldean dynasty ruling over the Neo-Babylonian Empire (625-539 BCE). His son Nebuchadnezzar II (605-562 BCE) restored Babylonian greatness and built the Temple of Marduk (the biblical Tower of Babel) in his capital, as well as the fortifications known as the "Median Wall," palaces, and the Hanging Gardens (on terraces). In 539 BCE, the Persians seized Babylon.

Achaemenid Persian Cyrus II conquered the Median Empire, Lydia (546 BCE), Babylon (539 BCE), and the Greek cities of western Asia Minor, Bactria, and Sogdia (529 BCE). His son Cambyses II subjugated Egypt and the Greek cities of Cyrenaica (525 BCE). The Persians then adopted the Assyrian concept of an empire uniting all the peoples of the world under one great king ("King of Kings"). Darius I conquered the Indus Valley in 512 BCE and occupied Thrace and Macedonia (513 BCE).

The Assyrians and Chaldeans had already begun to politically and civilly unify much of the Middle East, and the Persians continued this tradition. Thus, Aramaic, already used as a language of communication, was adopted as the language of Persian administration.

Despite its power, the history of the Achaemenids is poorly known because the scribes used parchment or papyrus; apart from rare royal inscriptions, there are few accounts from reluctant subjects or passionate opponents.

[importantdestinydefendor]

HERE SHE IS!!!!

It took so long to draw the background and deciding on her color palette! I wanted her palette to show a little lore, but it was hard to balance the white with the leather😫. Especially as my research showed that white leather would not have been a thing in her time🥲.

But enough of that. Let me intreduce you to:

Azar, a high ranking general and one of the best warriors in all of Maar!

She was born into two parsian warrior families in the year P.E. 294 in Ecbatana, Pars, which makes her 26 years old. She is 170cm/5'5f tall.

Her tutelary god is Tiw, the maaren god of war—especially treaties—and of justice. He also oversees the moot (general assembly) and court cases. He stands for fair fights, victory and peace.

She moved to the village of Rus in Maar, where her aunt Sanaz, her fathers sister, lives with her family. After some time and events she moved to the capital of Maar, Vigard, and officaly became a squire. She worked hard and long and at the age of 16 she became an offical knight. From there she climbed the ranks of the maaren army very fast and at the age of 22 she became the highest ranking general, an Almennt (Almennt = Eran).

Similar to Daryun, Azar also has gained a few nicknames amongst her enemies, like the white general or the white death. The white coming from her mostly white armor and the death coming from her being infamouse for mowing down her enemies.

Azar also acts as the mentor to the maaren crown prince Aleksi and is rumered to be very close with the royal family, the "Elvenking" Farzin, his wife Queen Serrilda and the dowager queen Moja.

How will she fit with Team Arslan? Will they get along? How did the meet? And most importantly - what is that familiar yet strange air/aura between Azar and Daryun? Does Vahriz have anything to do with this? What does he know?

These questioned will be answered!

... someday...

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Andrea Vaccaro (Italian, 1604 - 1670) Raguel's Blessing of her Daughter Sarah before Leaving Ecbatana with Tobias, Detail, ca. 1640 Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya

[pastellig]

Arslan Senki 127

This chapter opens with the titular Legend of the Snake King. I was struck by the many parallels between Arslan and Kaykhusraw illuminated by this tale:

Kaykhusraw’s mission is to overturn Zahhak, an evil that terrorizes his people; Arslan’s mission is to dismantle slavery, an evil that terrorizes his people. They both move toward their goal with small numbers of supporters.

Kaykhusraw first allies himself with Zahhak’s cook — like Arslan, he sees the value of individuals outside of the nobility and military.

Early in his mission, Kaykhusraw faces the reality that he cannot save everyone and settles for saving one person from every pair to be slaughtered for Shoulder Snakes™️. Arslan routinely balks at “settling,” and with the assistance of his allies can generally — but not always — avoid it.

Kaykhusraw’s small army is comprised of 365 “stout youth” who were saved by his partnership with the cook. Arslan quite similarly collects allies by offering grace and mercy.

These points emphasize the most important parallel: Kaykhusraw was the “Hero King” who gained his throne by overturning an unfair and oppressive power — not through the usual succession. Arslan is on the path to do the same. Despite not sharing blood with Kaykhusraw, his mission makes him the true successor to the Hero King.

Alfarid was great in this chapter. I absolutely love who she’s become in Arakawa’s hands. Giggly and love struck? Yes. A skilled leader and warrior who prioritizes practical, immediate needs? Also yes. We see that after Zahhak’s retreat in 127 part 2:

The Zot clan have enormous respect for all dead, not just their own — remember that they will not rob the bodies of the dead, nor the sick and dying. To leave a comrade unburied weighs heavily on them all but imagine how difficult it is for the leader of the Zot to leave members of her clan, her family, unburied and without their final rites.

In many ways, this call is one only Alfarid has the authority to make, and she does so in a frank (but not disrespectful) way. As Arslan has grown in his skills and confidence, his need for advice has diminished. We’ve seen Narsus refuse to make recommendations, leaving the choice to Arslan. Alfarid is effectively Shāh of the Zot, a clan that does not recognize Parsian authority. In this moment she speaks to Arslan as his equal, and thus gives the group the time they need to create as much distance as possible between them and their slithery opponent with regenerative powers and acidic blood.

Alfarid also gives Etoile a fresh horse from one of the fallen Zot members. It’s another sign of Alfarid’s authority and also a lovely indicator that Alfarid sees her as a core part of the group.

They all survived this time… I wonder what the outcome of the final battle against Zahhak will be.

In the novels, the final battle against Zahhak takes place after Arslan’s ascension to the throne. I’ve wondered how Arakawa planned to either condense the time between these events or unify them (and I leaned towards unification, because it’s way more dramatic). The Shoulder Snakes™️ slithering towards Ecbatana with Kaykhusraw’s disintegrating body between them hints at one option — and it involves a new host.

I think Hilmes is about to find out how Zahhak’s devotees plan to put him on the throne.

[inthebamboogrove]

Conversation by the fire

A guest from another world…

A cold wind, smelling of dust, howled softly in the twilight. The rocky plain, gradually sloping down, slowly disappeared behind this curtain. The world, which until recently had been filled with the warmth of the sun's rays, was becoming completely different. Only rare wolf voices from time to time joined the long and quiet howl of the wind. There was no one here except the lonely shadow of the horseman, who continued on his way despite the quickly approaching night. Hearing animal voices in the distance again, the horse snored. The huge stallion, black as a raven's wing, went through a single battle, carrying his master on his back, and the wolf's howl caused him more irritation than horror.

The rider only patted his powerful neck.

-Calm down, my friend. We'll stop soon.

Well, we were delayed…

A trade caravan that Daryun came across on the way was attacked today by a detachment of robbers. With war cries, the bandits jumped out from around the bend of the shallow gorge, anticipating rich booty.

Cases when opponents rushed to attack without knowing who the Black Knight was were not uncommon and the bandits usually retreated, having previously lost several fighters. The sooner the attackers realized what was happening, the more of them remained alive. Seeing a rider in a flowing cloak on a huge black horse with a drawn sword, they were confused. It wasn't one of the guards they had just dealt with. Those who were especially brave rushed into the attack, only to soon slip off their horses in lifeless sacks, warming the ground with their blood. The rest, realizing that life was more valuable than prey, rushed away, disappearing into a dusty curtain. The caravan reached the nearest city, to which it was heading. Despite the persuasion of the merchants who tirelessly thanked him, Daryun continued on his way. It’s been too long since he saw the azure domes of Ecbatana… Very soon it became clear that this was not the end. The next morning, as soon as it was dawn, Daryun heard a shrill horse squeal. From the slope of the gentle hill it became clear what was happening. The distant figures of the horsemen seemed no more than insects. Daryun recognized them immediately. They decided to make up for yesterday's failure. Like wild animals surrounding their prey, they slowly approached the cloaked traveler. Even if he was on a horse, he wouldn’t get far. What was this poor man thinking as he tried to cross the wasteland alone? The leader slowly pulled out a saber that flashed in the sun, the same one with which he dealt with the guards of yesterday's caravan and which he did not dare to cross with the blade of the Black Knight. The hand holding Shabrang's reins clenched into a fist. My heart began to beat faster. Such jackals, who had the courage to attack only those who were weaker, often came across Dariun’s path. He was disgusted by them, but now he felt real anger. Anger that they would get what they wanted before Dariun taught them a deadly lesson. The bandit rushed forward. The victim suddenly jumped from the horse's back onto his opponent. Under the heavy cloak was a strong body, like that of a warrior. With one precise movement, he finished off the bandit. A bloody trail shot up into the air, and an almost severed head fell to the bottom, dangling from uncut muscles. The body, not yet realizing death, jerked stupidly on the horse’s back, not letting go of the reins. The horse, which clearly had blood in its eyes, immediately ran away, following the rest of the gang, disappearing behind a curtain of dust that hid everything that was happening. When she settled down, neither the mysterious warrior nor the bandits were any longer there. What happened in the morning gradually began to be forgotten, but it never completely left Daryun’s thoughts. The warrior's experienced gaze could not help but appreciate the skill of the stranger's blow. What people did he belong to? Dariun could not remember that somewhere he had seen such a fighting style and a short blade that looked more like a dagger - akinak*. It was getting colder. Transparent, like light dark silk, the twilight gradually thickened, changing the world beyond recognition. The animal voices fell silent in the distance. Not a single sound was heard in this impenetrable darkness, which had neither end nor edge. Now Daryun realized more clearly than ever that he had to stay in the city with the merchants until the morning. What will this rush lead to? What's the use of it? My uncle said what happens to those who always think they are right…

Dry, chapped lips stretched into a sad smile at himself.

Fool.

Sensing the mood of the owner, the faithful Shabrang snorted, covering his ears. Small stones rustled under the mighty hooves. The gentle hills that were so clearly visible in the distance have now disappeared. There was nothing around but darkness.

For the first time in a long time, Daryun felt almost lost. Even the dusty wind stopped hitting him back. Open eyes saw nothing, and my heart began to clench in unpleasant foreboding. Yet, no matter how invincible a warrior the Black Knight was, he was only a man, and a man always feels vulnerable in the midst of the dark unknown, far from everything that is familiar to him. Something sparkled in the distance, but did not disappear. A tiny dot twinkling like a star. Daryun pulled the reins, stopping Shabrang. The feeling of being lost loosened its grip a little, giving way to something light and giving strength. More than anything, it felt like hope. It turns out that he was not the only traveler here who was taken by surprise at night. A solution arose quickly and Daryun directed Shabrang towards the small flickering light. At the very edge of the warm light, which prevents the impenetrable darkness from approaching, sat a figure wrapped in a cloak. In fact, Daryun had a guess who it was.

-Was it you who dispersed the bandits?

-Yes I. – An unknown voice answered.

The hand reached to the edge of the hood, revealing a tanned face, framed by blonde hair, like a lion's mane, falling over broad shoulders. The stranger was the same age as Daryun, maybe a little older. Golden highlights of the flame slid into the attentive blue eyes looking at the Black Knight. Without attention and tension, but studying. This is how warriors look at each other before battle.

On such a night the traveler could not be left alone. They both knew this, and now two people were sitting by the fire, which protected them and their horses from the impenetrable darkness, which now seemed to be the whole world.

The stranger seemed to have forgotten about Daryun's presence, continuing to gaze thoughtfully at the crackling flames. The first wrinkles appeared in the corners of the eyes, when a barely noticeable bitter grin touched the plump lips.

The traveler was clearly not from these places and not from those countries that Daryun managed to visit. That attack immediately appeared in my memory, instantly sending the leader of the robbers to his forefathers. The stranger was a warrior, experienced, strong and dangerous. Just like Daryun himself.

-Is this Hades?

-This is Pars. – Daryun answered simply. The warm light of the fire narrowed his pupils, turning his golden eyes into those of a tiger.

-I saw how you fought with those bandits who attacked the caravan. – The unknown person spoke again. -Are you the strongest warrior in your country?

It turns out that neither Daryun was the first to notice him. To the trained eye of a warrior, one attack can say a lot about his opponent. A premonition of something unknown began to squeeze his heart. No, it wasn't fear. Besides, who, if not a person possessing such skill, could be an opponent to the Warrior-of-Warriors?

-Yes.

After answering, Daryun always proved it with a sword. The body itself prepared itself for a lunge or defense, the legs were ready to make a jump, and the heart beat faster. But not even an eyebrow twitched on his face. Golden eyes did not lower under the blue gaze. There was no tension, no anger, no thirst for murder in either one or the other.

-Why are you're fighting ? – The stranger asked unexpectedly. He, like Daryun, knew who was in front of him and that he would be understood. After all, only a warrior can understand a warrior. But who can understand a warrior who is destined to be the greatest? They were silent for some time. Daryun never thought about it. He didn't even remember when he first picked up a sword and began learning to fight. He was raised by his uncle, the one to whom the Shah of Andragoras trusted his cavalry. Daryun only did what he had to do, what was destined for him and it soon became clear that he was the best. There was not a single opponent who would not lay down his head in battle with him. This became his pride. Pars has a warrior like him and that he turned out to be such a warrior. His name was known even outside the country. Emperor Seliki offered him horses, concubines and titles, but… he is loyal only to his country. The image of Arslan, the young son of Andragoras, appeared in my memory. The prince did not show much zeal for military science, but he knew how to treat his subjects well and understand them. Quality worthy of a lord. His uncle said that he was destined to be the master of Daryun . Someday His Highness will have to take up the sword and the Warrior-of-Warriors will do everything so that he knows what he is fighting for, while maintaining his kind and fair heart.

-I serve my master.

The stranger's lips twitched into a grin again. He doesn't seem to serve anyone. He vividly reminded Kubard, for whom only the ability to fight retained the status of marzban.

-Is he worthy of this?

-I make him the greatest ruler of Pars. – Daryun did not take his gaze off the stranger. This is how animals look, creeping in circles opposite each other, before rushing into battle.

He felt the same.

-Why are you fighting? - Daryun unexpectedly returned his question. “I’m fighting for something that will survive thousands of years.” Each of them would achieve what they wanted and that would be the last thing they did. Daryun did not know where his opponent was coming from or his goal. He only felt that his powers were comparable only to his own. However, what directed these forces, made them raise the sword and strike the enemy, was completely different. Only glory can survive millennia. This stranger forged it for years and shed blood for it, and now in front of him was someone who would demand a battle at full strength, no more and no less. But Daryun had his own reasons for fighting and he did not care what the stranger thought about it. The power of Daryun protected and guided the one who was responsible for the whole people. He was ready to fight for someone who himself faithfully served his subjects. Shah Andragoras inspired fear in those who raised the sword against Pars, but His Highness Arslan will become a ruler whom this region has never known…

The tiger's eyes narrowed. Living, translucent tongues of flame half hid his dark face, slightly distorted by the warm air haze. He now also had an evil grin on him.

If you draw your sword, this battle will be your last.

The dead night became cold and even the crackling of the flame seemed to cease.

Yes, the stranger understood that he would have to pay a lot for a fight with such an opponent. However, who will know about this accomplishment here, where his own name is unknown, and all around is a wasteland infested with robbers?

Everyone would get what they wanted. And that would be the last thing they did. Warmth began to return to this world again, filling it with sounds and the crackling of flames.

Both warriors remained sitting in their places, separated from each other by a fluttering bright curtain.

-Do you want to tell him everything you know? - The warrior broke the silence. Daryun knew who he meant. -Yes.

-And I want the one to whom I pass on everything I know to never become like me…

The enemy's eyes dropped and again began to peer thoughtfully into the crackling flames. It turns out that fame is not all that occupies his thoughts.

For the first time, Daryun felt something akin to doubt in the stranger. That man was born a warrior, but did he find a reason to fight?

They didn't speak anymore.

The morning greeted Daryun with silence and coolness. The pre-dawn fog hid the distant hills in a transparent twilight. Not far away, the faithful Shabrang was waiting for him, twitching his smooth black skin, already covered with droplets of morning dew.

The fact that yesterday's meeting was not a dream was only reminded by the blackened extinguished fire. There was no sign that Daryun was not alone.

What was it? Dream?

The image of yesterday’s warrior immediately appeared in my memory. So similar and not like himself.

I hope you find a reason to fight.

The events of the dead moonless night quickly faded and melted away, like dawn fog under the rays of the sun. Daryun , the youngest among the marzbans of Pars, the Warrior-of-Warriors, returned home. He was met by his uncle, who was training the young prince.

Both were incredibly happy to see him.

It’s okay, Your Highness, you will still learn to fight, Daryun thought with a smile, looking into the shining blue eyes of the boy who was to be his master.

There, very far away, in a windswept mountain hut, the warrior came to his senses. Despite the wine he had drunk, his mind was clear. The obsession had seen at night was still fresh in him memory.

This time, they were not the ones he had sent to the underworld in his countless battles. Not ethereal shadows crowding on the banks of an underground river, waiting for the crossing and saying that they are waiting for him.

Who was that warrior? Black-haired, dark-skinned, with strange yellow eyes. And his horse, a black giant, was clearly a fighting horse. He himself would not have refused this… What land did he belong to? One thing was clear: that man knew himself and knew what he was fighting for. And it would be a fight to the death.

For him, the main thing was immortality in the hearts of people. Vegetating here, far from the rest of the world, you cannot achieve it. Still, how different they are, warriors…

Isn't it time to go back?

The cold mountains gave way to a bright sea, along the small waves of which the glare of the dazzling sun glided merrily. The bow of his big-eyed ship buried itself in the sand. During the long time that he was absent, the younger brother himself began to resemble a young warrior. A moment later, his clear gray eyes shone with joy.

I'm back home, my little brother…

[importantdestinydefendor]

Wooooo! My monthly does of motivation!

New chapter tomorrow!

[daryun]

The Sorcerer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “rightful king” 😳💊 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

Hilmes: yeah whatever. i don’t feel shit.

5 minutes later: dude we gotta retake Ecbatana

His astute follower Sahm, pacing: Husrab is lying to us