#Prince Arslan

[saltyfilmmajor]

I think I just enjoy a protagonist who manages to change people by being themself

[xbuster]

[lanonima]

It has started!

I'll go a little bit slower, at least in the near future because my back has been bugging me. Like the first one, I won't start consistently fandom tagging it until it's recognizable! I'll just post an untagged update every Friday.

But here's the full image, just so people know what to look forward to~

[sidecharactersdomatter]

The final redux of fixations I cherish

Avatar the Last Airbender

The Heroic Legend of Arslan

The Apothecary Diaries

Arte

Bluey

The Blind Prince

Ben 10

Camp Lazlo

Castle Swimmer

The Case Study of Vanitas

Ducktales 2017

The Dragon Prince

The Disabled Tyrant’s beloved Pet Fish

Encanto

Epic the Musical

Ethan M Aldridge’s Estranged

Fathoms of Atonement

Frieren Beyond Journey’s End

Gargoyles

Heaven Official’s Blessing TGCF

Infinity Train

Inside Job

Jellystone

Justice League & Unlimited

Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts

Kipper

Lackadaisy

Loonatics Unleashed

Legion of Superheroes 2006

The Looney Tunes Show

Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic (on personal rewrite list)

Mao Mao Heroes of Pure Heart

Over the Garden Wall

The Owl House

Professor Layton

Princess Tutu

Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja

Raven Saga

Restaurant to Another World

Robin Hood 1973

Spiderverse

Symbiotic Titan

The Glass Scientists

The Royal Tutor

Thundercats 2011

The Vampair Series

Etc that’s all for now!

[galerion]

the agent and the prince

[sidesketchestuff]

Here’s all the fandoms I do fanart for

Avatar the last Airbender

The heroic legend of Arslan

Ben 10

The blind prince

Case study of Vanitas

Castle Swimmer

Ducktales 2017

The Disabled Tyrant’s beloved pet fish

Epic the Musical

Encanto

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End

Fathoms of Atonement

Gargoyles

The Glass Scientists

Heaven Official’s Blessing (TGCF)

Hilda (2018)

Infinity Train

Inside Job

Jentry Chau Vs. The Underworld

DCAU Justice League Unlimited

Kipo and the age of Wonderbeasts

Kipper the Dog

Lackadaisy

Loonatics Unleashed

Magi the Labyrinth of Magi

Mao Mao heroes of Pure Heart

Over the Garden Wall

The Owl House

Professor Layton

Princess Tutu

Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja

Robin Hood 1973

OG Teen Titans 2003

Thundercats 2011

And a whole lot more!

[ifreakingloveroyals]

25 April 2015 | Prince Charles, Prince of Wales lays a flower at a commemorative ceremony marking the centenary of the Gallipoli campaign at the Turkish 57th Regiment Memorial to mark the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Gallipoli in Eceabat, Turkey. Turkish and Allied powers representatives, as well as family members of those who served, are commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Gallipoli campaign with ceremonies at memorials across the Gallipoli Peninsula. The Gallipoli land campaign, in which a combined Allied force of British, French, Australian, New Zealand and Indian troops sought to occupy the Gallipoli Peninsula and the strategic Dardanelles Strait during World War I, began on April 25, 1915 against Turkish forces of the Ottoman Empire. The Allies, unable to advance more than a few kilometers, withdrew after eight months. The campaign cost the Allies approximately 50,000 killed and up to 200,000 wounded, the Ottomans approximately 85,000 killed and 160,000 wounded. (c) Ercan Arslan/Getty Images

[innerchorus]

are there differences between shapul and esfan? theyre the same character to me.

It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to respond to this mainly because it sounds like something my partner would say to antagonise me but let me give it my best shot.

I do think there are some differences between them (and I will of course mention those in this post) but I think it's more interesting to answer this question by looking at why these two characters are so alike, and specifically why the fact that they are so alike doesn't mean they are merely cardboard cutouts of each other and is vital to understanding them as characters.

First, while Shapur created a strong impression and is an important character to myself and many others, it's worth noting that he appears in relatively few scenes in the manga. That's enough to glean some info about what he's like as a character, but we don't get to spend as much time with him as we do with the main cast. Maybe that's part of why you feel this way.

We do, however, get to see a bit more of his younger brother, Isfan.

When you say that Shapur and Isfan are so alike they seem the same to you, my first response is pretty much "well, what did you expect, given the circumstances?". It's clear from the outset that Isfan wishes to follow in his brother's footsteps.

Here he is in Chapter 59, freshly arrived in Peshawar.

Straight away we learn he wants to avenge his brother's death and offer his service to Prince Arslan in his brother's stead.

From Chapter 64, right before his fight with Gieve.

Here we learn that not only did Shapur save Isfan, he actually taught him. The novels even mention that 'while his brother served as a military general in the royal capital, Isfan became an agent of the royal capital and stayed in his hometown to guard it,' so even before we meet him in the manga, Isfan was stepping into a role that had previously been occupied by his brother, a role that Shapur had trained him for.

It's very clear that Isfan looks up to his brother, idealises him and aspires to be the kind of person he was, not just in a military sense but also sharing his morals, viewing loyalty to one's country and protecting the weak as far more important than riches (as stated in Book 12 of the novels, this is something Shapur said that Isfan adheres to as well). Is it such a surprise that after being so closely taught by Shapur and clearly modelling himself on him, Isfan seems so like his older brother?

That's really why I think saying they're 'the same character' feels reductive, because the reasons why they are so similar tell you so much about them.

And despite Shapur appearing in only a few scenes before his death, the same thing works in reverse. When we meet Isfan, we also learn more about Shapur. I don't think there's any need to list it all as that's not really what your question was aimed at, but I hope you understand my point.

The two brothers do seem to share character traits (they can be hotheaded/rash, as seen with Isfan's fight against Gieve, him rushing hastily to attack Chassum Fortress, and in Shapur throwing down his helmet at Atropatene after learning the king had fled, and particularly in his rescue of Isfan where he rushed alone into the snowy mountains to save him) but again, they're related, sharing the same father. So it's not really a surprise. This does, however, also highlight a difference between them, one that comes down to age and experience.

When we meet Shapur, he's in his mid 30s, and a Marzban, one of the highest military positions possible in Pars.

When we meet Isfan, he's around 20, and although he's clearly got some combat experience he's not at his brother's level just yet. And while they share some traits like I outlined above, while Shapur likely had the age and experience to moderate his reactions a little bit (see how he backtracks after his initial outburst at Atropatene, and defers his conflict with Kubard for another day which never comes), Isfan doesn't, and on certain occasions (like rushing ahead at Chassum) his inexperience shows.

I also want to cover character design, because I think it's a deliberate choice by Arakawa to have there be some resemblance between the two but not have them appear totally identical. One, it highlights that Isfan has a different mother (the manga appears to give him her lighter hair colour), and two, I think it indicates that Isfan isn't just Shapur v2, he's not meant to be just a carbon copy of his brother. Maybe that's also why we haven't seen Isfan wield a spear, Shapur's weapon of choice.

That those visual differences highlight the difference in their birth circumstances feels important. Shapur was born into high status as his family's heir. Isfan was born to a enslaved mother and if not for Shapur's actions his father would have allowed him to die simply to pacify his wife. While Isfan now occupies the same privileged position that his brother grew up in, it could easily have been different.

Those circumstances (Isfan and his mother's abandonment in the mountains) also lead to a distinct difference between the two, which is fighting style. Okay, we don't see much of Shapur in combat but he's clearly a classically trained Parsian warrior. This is likely the nature of the training he gave Isfan, too. But Isfan has an element that is unique to him, something that wasn't influenced by his brother but relates to wolves.

In his fight with Gieve, Tanaka describes Isfan's movements as 'wolf-like' and in both the novel scene and Arakawa's manga adaptation, Gieve is surprised by Isfan's movements (specifically the kick seen below) which depart from orthodox swordsmanship with the unpredictability of the wild.

I don't think we would've seen Shapur pull a move like that!

Yes, I know it makes no sense for Isfan to have these wolf-like traits when the actual contact he had with them was very limited, but I'll forgive Tanaka this conceit because it's fucking cool okay?

Anyway I hope this satisfactorily answers the question. I'm aware I am very (very) into these two characters and not everyone will be as interested in them as I am, but I hope some of the the points in this post were of interest. Hopefully I didn't forget anything, I didn't get a chance to proofread!

[deliquesaint]

Was tagged by @human-rocket to post 10 gifs of your 10 favorite ships ✨

chanting "violence and devotion" all the better if the violence IS devotion (or a continutation or manifestation of it)

no gif for these :(

1) star wars

2) dune pt 2

3) omnyoji celestial realm (2 part animated short story on youtube)

4) berserk!

5) code geass

6) avatar

7) legend of the galactic heroes OVA

8) vampire knight

9) captive prince

10) the heroic legend of arslan

sorry if you've already been tagged 🥹🫶 (no pressure) @bluemoonscape @paracosm-draw @bird-prince-art @barmadumet @geodax @i-m-art-ix @starakins @windforkthewriter @feuxx @ver-writes

[metalandmagi]

Inktober day 3: This Inktober, I'm challenging myself to draw Laurent from Captive Prince in the style of different manga authors!

It's October 3rd, so here's Laurent in the style of Hiromu Arakawa, author of Fullmetal Alchemist, Silver Spoon, and the manga adaptation of The Heroic Legend of Arslan.

[firelightmuse]

Save Him

Yume x Zenos

Immediately following the final battle with Zenos at the end of 6.0; After granting Zenos the battle he had been pining for ever since he returned from the dead, Yume makes a life altering decision in a brief moment of desperation.

1,456 Words

Featuring @traveler-of-light’s Astrid and Arslan

Content/Trigger Warnings: Brief Descriptions of Attempted Ritualistic Suicide/Seppuku and Depictions of Character Death

This is my first time ever writing for Yume x Zenos, so I hope you all enjoy!! A HUGE shout out to all who have been so encouraging and supportive of me while I navigate this new ship, especially @meepsthemiqo!! Thank you so much!!

As the two combatants channeled as much aether into their punches as they could, Yume Aino, Warrior of Light, got the upper hand and delt the disgraced Garlean prince a devastating blow. The enshrouded Zenos viator Galvus flew backwards, flipped over and landed face first onto the ground.

Though she could hardly catch her breath, and feeling an overwhelming amount of pain in her chest and abdomen, likely due to cracked ribs and internal bleeding, she quickly surmised, Yume pushed the pain from her conscious mind as much as she could as she slowly dragged her broken form closer to her opponent.

Zenos managed to get up onto his knees and reached out his hand to her, but too much of his life force had been spent and he instead dropped back to ground, this time facing the firmament. A moment later, Zenos’ enshrouded form dissipated from the majority of his body, but his left arm was still twisted with bright red flesh, reminiscent of a voidsent.

The samurai stood close enough to Zenos’ fallen form that she could see him open his eyes as he deeply sighed, “That I should lose again...”

With a chuckle, he closed his eyes before he dejectedly said, “How disappointing.”

Yume shook her head and questioned, “Did you though? Heh… I do not feel victorious.”

“Is that so?”

Before she could say anything more, Yume collapsed under her own weight, falling down right next to Zenos, her hand mere ilms away from his.

She looked over at him, and though her vision had begun to slightly blur, she saw his sky blue eyes aimed upward towards the heavens, yet by the look on his face, she knew his mind was drifting, to where she knew naught.

Zenos must’ve sensed that her focus was upon him, as he began to speak his thoughts aloud.

“Never have I understood those around me. Understood their obsessions.” He paused a moment, the memories of his life floating in and out of consciousness as he continued, “Besieged by their banality, the world was a mire of tedium and trivialities.”

Yume could swear that his eyes shifted to her face briefly, yet the pain was nearly unbearable and it was a struggle to keep listening, let alone to see properly.

The Garlean’s deep, rough voice reached her horns once more; this time she could hear a hint of joy in his tone. “But in these fleeting moments, there is...a spark. Blinding, brilliant... Gone...too soon...”

She let out a small sigh. “Yes… I understand.”

Yume had enough visual clarity to see Zenos turn towards her, trying to catch his breath as blood ran out of his mouth and trickled down his face.

“What of you, Yume, my mirror? Born into this world, bestowed name, bid to seek out strife and adventure...”

Yume turned towards Zenos as much as she could, though it was increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. As she shut her eyes, the pain that racked her whole body started to slowly fade away, and in turn, her mind’s eye began to wander.

“Was this life a gift...or a burden?”

Her mind wandered to her childhood in Hingashi, images began to rise to her conscious mind and soon fall away to the next; Mt. Aino rising up to the sky, its peak surrounded by clouds, flags flying of the Aino clan’s sigil, the seemingly endless multitudes of people bowing to her father, the duels that always ended with her victory yet with no worthy husband, her slicing her belly open and her father coming to stop her, and her leaving her homeland behind for lands unknown.

“Did you find...fulfillment?” Zenos asked as Yume’s mind continued to wander through the memories of her life.

Images floated to the surface of her new life in Eorzea; her arrival in Limsa Lominsa, first adventuring in Ul’dah, fighting Ifrit, joining the Scions, meeting all of whom she would now consider her found family, going on to fight so many primals, so many Garleans, then the dragons, and then the sin eaters, and finally the blasphemies and then the Endsinger. One victory after another, always more victories, and yet, she still felt the same emptiness as before.

“Did I? Did I… really?” Yume wondered aloud, as her mind flashed to images not of memories of real events as before, but of the dreams that haunted her off and on again for years. Dreams of adventure in far off places she had never experienced before, always with a steadfast companion by her side through all the battles and hardships to come, but also celebrating moments of pure joy and true happiness; she sees the scene of an eternal bonding, realizing that it was in fact her own. Yume gleaming in a white dress, joined hand in hand with the love of her life, sealing their bond with a kiss full of passion and love. Yet, she couldn’t not see her lover’s face. Always was her lover’s face shrouded in shadow. She knew that these must be visions of a future not yet written, and now may never come to pass.

Yume knew in her heart that she was a samurai, and there was no greater honor than to die an honorable death in battle. That was a comforting thought. And yet… it was not enough. She asked herself the same question that Zenos had just asked. Right now, in what could well be her final moments in this life, was she fulfilled? Did she find what she had been looking for in all these years of searching?

With a single tear falling from her eye, Yume answered her beaten opponent’s poignant question, “No… Not yet… There is so much left to experience…”

As the words passed her lips, she heard only a single sound from the man laying next to her.

“I...”

What followed was nothing but silence and darkness, as her vision was failing her, and she could not see nor hear him anymore. Was he still there? Or was it too late?

“Z-Zenos…?” Yume spoke his name aloud as she lifted her hand, reaching out for his. She soon found it, but tears instantly began to fall from her eyes as his skin felt cold in hers.

“No… Do not… leave me…alone…”

Yume gripped his cold hand with the last remains of her energy. If she was to die, then she wanted to die with him, the only man who would ever be worthy of her in her family’s eyes. The only person who could ever understand her, who saw all of her, her beauty and her ugliness, her strengths and her weaknesses, her determination and her doubts. Everyone else only saw the light, but he saw the darkness that she hid deep inside, and he was unafraid. In fact, he welcomed it, and drew it out of her, and made her feel unashamed of herself for the first time in her life.

No. Zenos was the only one that she deemed worthy. If she was to die, then she will die having made her own choice. And she chooses him. Her enemy… her love….

As she felt her consciousness slipping away from her, Yume heard a faint clanging of metal, and then as she still held Zenos’ hand, she felt them both being whisked away, and then arrive in another place.

Yume felt nothing, and she could see nothing, but the very faintest of sounds reached her horns.

“Oh… Yume!”

Was that… Astrid’s voice? Was she back in the ship? Was she in the Ragnarok with the others?

“Yume! And… Zenos?!”

That could only be the exclamations of Arslan, confirming that she had in fact been teleported back to the ship, and Zenos had arrived with her, though if he was alive or dead, Yume did not know.

“Can you hear... Say...” Estinien’s voice called out, though it was incredibly difficult to make sense of what he had said.

Yume heard more voices, Urianger, Y’shtola, Alphinaud and Alisaie, but she couldn’t seem to understand what they were saying at all.

With the last of her strength, Yume opened her eyes enough to see her vision blurred so badly that she couldn’t make out any faces, but she finally spotted her target: a shock of pink entered her sight, and she knew she had found the only person who had a chance of saving him. If anyone could do it, it’d be her.

“H-Hali…” Yume spoke with the last of her breath, “Save… him… p-please…”

As the words left her lips, Yume closed her eyes and let the darkness pass over her. Life or death, she knew not what awaited her. It was out of her hands now.

[inthebamboogrove]

One day within four walls

This short story was written during the New Year holidays. It was an attempt to write something light, funny and everyday. It is incredibly stupid and I ask you not to take it seriously! I just wanted to fool around a little with my favorite characters!

His Highness's detachment is on the run again. Expelled from the Peshawar fortress, His Highness and his retinue once again find themselves a target for Hermes and the dark forces. This time, the young exiled parsian prince is forced to stop and live for a while… in an apartment. This short story is an answer to the question "what would have happened if this whole company had suddenly found itself in such a familiar environment for their readers and viewers - an ordinary apartment?"

This story is strange and delirious, like a dream. You don't need to think about how Arslan and the others ended up there, you don't need to think about what world this action takes place in. Here are only the familiar characters with their strengths and weaknesses and a room of three rooms. What will come of it? I'll try to tell you…

This is just a dream that no one has ever had. But maybe someone will? The work is an expanded version of my long-standing idea.

Arslan, as a prince, could have taken a separate room, but he refused and his friends did not dare to insist. After His Majesty Andragoras gave him an impossible task, he still felt something like loneliness and only close people could save him from it. The prince and his friends were treated unfairly and there was something wrong with what was happening, time after time they were thrown to the bottom of despair, then raised on the wings of hope, spinning in this crazy whirlwind. Maybe this is their fate? This squad least of all resembled the retinue of the heir to the throne. Motley, consisting of people who are not similar to each other, but who found their place with His Highness and each other. They were used to this and now, by someone's evil will, they were crowded into a strange little shelter.

It took him a lot of effort to get used to it.

Arslan shared a small room with Daryun and Elam.

-You will turn the house into chaos, and we still have to pay for it! - The guy, serious beyond his years, did not want to leave his master, as he knew him and his creation too well.

-Elam, I am an adult, I can clean up!

Narsus, have pity on Gieve and Jaswant, they still have to live with your paintings… -Daryun's voice was heard behind the wall and, as if in response, the ud howled plaintively and abruptly, followed by its owner.

-My pants! My only pants!

Gieve ran out into the corridor, his white pants decorated with a motley colorful ligature of a pattern, absorbed into the fabric by thick oil paint.

-Don't worry, Gieve, we'll wipe it off with solvent… - The strategist smiled guiltily, sincerely wanting to help, but not fully believing in this remedy.

-How can I show myself to Lady Farangis now? I have to walk all the way to Gilan like this…- The musician ran his fingers through his disheveled purple hair, shaking his head sadly. To appear in such an inappropriate form before her was beyond his strength.

-I’m so sorry, Gieve… I…

The three rooms were clearly cramped for His Highness's retinue, accustomed to the spaciousness of the Peshawar apartments or the freedom of a camp, where the ceiling was the starry sky and there were no walls at all…

These same concrete walls pressed them against each other, forcing them to collide with their characters, preferences and habits.

It was not easy for such different people to get along here…

5:40 – Narsus felt Inspiration. Who would have thought that it would overtake him right here, now? The strategist rolled over on his side, burying his face in the back of the sofa, on which he had been spending more than one night. A hard, tight, ugly thing. But it was precisely in such moments, when there was no beauty or hope around, that it appeared. Inspiration. Now it seemed to spread throughout the body, together with the blood, a spicy wine, sounding like a marvelous iridescent melody in the ears. Narsus missed it. He missed the interweaving of complex ornaments, the stone lace of the arches, the sky strewn with shimmering stardust. There were almost no stars here. The dark sky was crossed with wires. There was no beauty here. But it lived inside him.

No. This cannot be missed.

Narsus slowly rose, feeling a strange creak inside the hard surface on which he had been lying, pulled his hair into a ponytail with an hair band and carefully stepped over Jaswant, who was sleeping on the floor, his bare feet slapping on the linoleum, he crept into the darkness towards the canvas and paints.

He could not ignore this call. He would create even in the light of a small flashlight, hunched over on a stool behind the open door of the closet (so that the light would not disturb the others). For a moment, Narsus imagined Daryun's crooked grin , which would appear on his face if he caught him now. Ah, let him laugh! This man will never understand what art means!

5:50 - No, it is beyond his strength. It took a while for Gieve's unconscious consciousness to realize that the hunched creature with sparkling eyes in the dim light was their strategist. The musician decided that he did not want to spend the night in the same room where such "miracles" were happening.

Yesterday, the goddess of fortune clearly turned away from Gieve. The fact that Gieve touched the not-dried "masterpiece" and ruined his clothes even made him feel despondent. But Gieve would not be himself if he despaired for long. Wrapping a blanket around himself like a tunic, the musician knocked on the girls' room.

This bad luck may even give him a special charm in the eyes of Farangis. Women often feel sorry for men if something like this happens. Her heart will finally respond and she will feel sorry for him…

Unable to cope with the blanket, Gieve spread out on the floor in front of the door, which slammed shut after their short conversation.

-For what – oh…

The musician turned his head to the opposite door. At least Jaswant was lucky, he was sleeping.

5:51– Jaswant was not sleeping. He lay motionless, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

5:52– Elam, holding a large aluminum pot in his hands, steps over Gieve and heads to the kitchen. Arslan, yawning sleepily, follows him to help. He hasn’t been sleeping well lately.

Luck or no luck, art or no art, but breakfast needs to be cooked.

Elam liked the local kitchen. How many different devices made cooking something incredible. The countless number of plates and pots, cutlery, cutting boards, allowed him to create several dishes at once and so different!

Here Elam's talent was fully revealed.

Lately, little good had happened to them, and tasty food was the little that could please them. Elam seized this opportunity, thanks to such convenient devices, he created full breakfasts, lunches and dinners in a short time. His movements were fast and honed, like with a sword in training, his hands, without the help of his eyes, found what was where, and as a result, something incredible was obtained.

Elam liked it.

This was an ordinary day spent here. One day ended, another began…

2:00 – Jaswant couldn’t sleep. He knew they were just pictures, but he still felt uneasy lying on the floor, looking at this interweaving of shapes and spots. He was looking at them. They were looking at him.

Giving up on sleep, Arslan’s shinduran bodyguard crawled out from under the blanket, got up from the mattress and headed for the kitchen, stepping silently in the darkness.

Sleepless nights are conducive to reflection and recollection. Familiar images that he kept in his heart. The voice of the man he considered his father, those rare moments when they simply sat and talked. The warmth in lady Salima’s gaze. How long ago it all was…

Jaswant turned on the kettle, poured coffee into a mug and began to examine the shelves in search of the necessary particle, without which nothing would work. Where had Elam put it? Yes, here it is!

The coffee was completely wrong without curry and a few other spices. The orange curry powder made it spicy and warming. This coffee was soothing, like wrapping you in a woolen shawl. Remembering his loved ones and the homeland he had left, inhaling the tart aroma of this drink, he felt how the melancholy began to recede.

Yes, Jaswant often, especially in such moments of silence, felt nostalgia for the world in which he had lived before and in which there was no place for him. But did he regret his choice? No. Never. In fact, it was only after becoming a part of such a unique detachment of the parsian prince that the feeling akin to loneliness began to slowly disappear. It was so familiar that Jaswant did not notice it until the moment it disappeared completely.

He took a sip and his throat felt like a warm scarf was wrapped around it.

2:10 – Arslan opened his eyes and his half-awake mind slowly began to realize that he was surrounded by the quiet darkness of the night, where no deadly enemy shadows lurked in the black shadows. That the quiet, hate-filled laughter of the Silver Mask was only in his nightmare.

No, there was no point in trying to sleep any longer. Quietly, so as not to wake Daryun and Elam, he crawled out from under the blanket and walked quietly with bare feet to the kitchen. A narrow strip of light crossing the corridor indicated that someone was still awake.

That someone turned out to be Jaswant. Now, without a turban, in a T-shirt and knee-length shorts, with a mug of steaming drink in his hands, he looked like an ordinary man, and not a warrior as deadly as a panther.

Arslan smiled. The bodyguard, when on duty, was serious and focused, so it was rare to talk to him.

They talked, watching the melting snow slide down the glass. Raindrops grazed the stele and quietly knocked. The street, framed on both sides by high-rises and therefore resembling a gorge, disappeared into the fog. Snow and rain. How is this possible? It turned out that Jaswant could tell a lot about Shindura, not the way its current king, Rajendra, tried to show it. It was much more interesting to listen to such things.

Arslan felt that the image of Hermes was beginning to fade.

-What are you drinking?

-Coffee with spices, Your Highness. - Jaswant answered, taking a sip. - My master and I often drank it…

The shinduran man's voice trailed off, as if the memory had disturbed the pain that had subsided over time.

-That's interesting. - Arslan said, wanting to distract his comrade a little. - Will you make me one like that?

-Of course!

The shinduran man's turquoise eyes lit up with a lively light. Arslan was glad when his friends shared something dear to their hearts with him. And he had never tried shinduran coffee…

2:40 - Daryun woke up to find His Highness's bed empty. Of course! Arslan had been suffering from insomnia lately, and if not that, then disturbing dreams. Daryun was used to waking up in the middle of the night to find his young master either in the kitchen, or with a flashlight, reading a book. Doing anything but trying to sleep.

-Your Highness, this can't go on any longer, go to bed. - The Black Knight walked into the kitchen, his bare feet loudly stamping, and took the warm, steaming mug from Arslan's hands.

-If only it could work… - Arslan answered sadly.

Daryun and Jaswant exchanged sad glances.

-You go to bed too.

Shinduran nodded silently and left the room with Arslan.

No, something had to be done about this. His Highness's anxiety may be affecting his health. He's been taking on too much lately.

Daryun took a sip and nearly choked as the searing wave rushed down his throat and into his esophagus. Tears filled his eyes and his heart pounded in his temples.

How good that His Highness didn’t have time to take a sip!

3:00 – Azrael returned from hunting. Hearing familiar sounds, Jaswant, who had not fallen asleep, again trudged into the kitchen to open the window. On the other side of the glass, a familiar, blurry silhouette loomed. A large hawk, hunched over on a narrow windowsill, beat its wings against the glass. The span of these wings covered the entire opening of a tiny, by usual standards, window. The proud hunter did not like the bad weather at all. When they finally opened it for him, he fluttered onto the table, stepping with wet, cold paws.

He's back, that's good…

Jaswant turned off the light and went into the room, not noticing the gift in the form of a mouse, which fell to the floor and was quickly forgotten.

4:00 – Azrael sat alone in the darkness on the back of a wooden chair that served as a perch. The keen hearing of a bird of prey caught that the people were not going to get up. Ruffling his feathers and shifting from paw to paw, he began to whistle quietly. The hawk had no idea about time or what it meant to people. He simply felt it, felt when it was time to go hunting, when it was time to return, and when it was time to sleep. Gliding like a weightless shadow in the sky above the line of the parsian's army, he was accustomed to the fact that people began to stir early. There was something wrong with what was happening now. He should already be sitting on His Highness's shoulder!

Soon the whistling turned to a cackle, and then a squeal. Azrael spread his wings and flapped them with such force that he almost knocked over the chair on the back of which he was sitting. How could this be?! It's time for everyone to wake up!

4:01 - A feeling that was faster than reason made Daryun jump up. His heart was beating hard and slowly, its beats echoed loudly in his tense, ready to throw, body.

The life of a warrior and the constant expectation of danger honed this feeling to the limit. His consciousness, not fully awake, did not immediately understand what this noise was. Daryun exhaled, fully realizing that there was no danger, and he froze in the middle of the corridor, jumping out, as he was, in underpants and with a sword, ready to fight any opponent.

The Black Knight exhaled, pressing his forehead to the cold metal handle, and quietly chuckled. It's good that everyone was asleep and no one saw him.

All that was left was to calm the noisy bird. His Highness finally fell asleep. Daryun, who had been with him from the very beginning of the journey, knew better than anyone how hard it was for him to do this sometimes.

However, the Warrior-of-Warriors himself almost became the source of a noise that exceeded the bird's cackling. A bare foot, stepping on something soft and small, slid forward, crashing into an angular table leg. The darkness of the night exploded in colored sparks, pain rushed through the whole body, and the loud parsian curse, sometimes heard at the other end of the cavalry , was ready to break out, mercilessly clamped by strong palms.

With the light on, a long red stripe became visible, drawn by the mouse carcass Azrael had brought.

Glad that he was no longer alone, the mighty hawk began to move his paws on his perch, whistling.

There was only one thing left.

Now, looking at the rags, colorful bottles with exotic cleaning products and mops, Daryun regretted that he had not paid due attention to such a trifle as cleaning. His concern was battles, and the servants' concern was order. But not now.

Elam kept everything here in the strictest order. Which rag to wash the floor? Which mop to take? And should I take one at all? And the bucket? The dustpan? He didn't want to anger the wise boy who served Narsus Daryun. Just as he didn't want to wake anyone up. He could handle this nonsense himself! After all, he could handle his opponents on the battlefield?!

Having chosen everything that seemed suitable to him, under the watchful eye of the hawk's eyes, Daryun began to clean up the mess.

The warrior, who has no problem dealing with a whole squad, hunched over and trying not to pay attention to the desperately pulsating pain in his bruised fingers, is dragging a rag across the linoleum, cleaning up what remains of Azrael's unfortunate prey. Who would have thought… If Narsus caught him now… Let him laugh!

When all this was over, and the rag and bucket were returned to their place, a satisfied smile appeared on Daryun's tanned face. Something useful does not always have to be great… Now he can go to bed with a clear conscience…

4:40 - Jaswant, who had not fallen asleep, saw all this, but he preferred to remain silent and try to forget what he had seen.

Silence has finally come to this apartment

6:00 – A new day begins. Elam's grumbling indicated that the bucket was the wrong one, and the rag should be thrown out altogether.

6:01 – In her room, Farangis was combing her hair. Smooth and black, it had become even more manageable and smelled pleasant after the wonderful product here.

Alfreed, quietly humming something, applied a transparent balm to her lips in which tiny pink sparkles glittered. The girl was simply enchanted by such pleasant little things that this world was rich in. Perhaps she would take it with her.

It was not so bad here.

The night passed quietly and gave them a real rest, which they all needed for so long.

Soon they would set off again.

[lanonima]

Obviously I wouldn't be working on a cross stitch project like the one I'm working on if I didn't love Arslan Senki but I cannot emphasize enough how much it is the story of all time for me

there is not a single version that I dislike, or that I think brings nothing to the experience of the story

but when you boil it down, the thing that has held me so captivated and brought me back to the story over and over and over is that Arslan himself is so gentle, and kind, and softhearted

and not only does the story not punish him for that like so many would, but those are the traits about him that his retainers love, and they would do anything to prevent him from losing that gentleness

the story shows over and over again that Arlsan is right and that he doesn't have to change who he is in order to learn to be a good king

and it just really gets me that in a story that can so often feature violence and deceit, that the core value is still that being kind is worth it

[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...

[sidesketchestuff]

I just finished the official lineup for TSOE this July 4th

From left to right we’ve got Ester, Naja, Tariq, Adil, Zufar, Benyamin “Ben”, Fariha, Merten, Yardena, Kohinoor, Aynara and Arslan.

Now here’s the quick descriptions!

Ester - The main protagonist of The song of Ester. A squire of Lusitania training under count Barcacion with the alias, Étoile,. Eventually ends up journeying outside her home kingdom.

Naja - A girl Ester becomes close friends with. A former slave from the lands of Aatish, now seized by Pars the enemy kingdom. Very shy and has trouble speaking up. Goes by the name “Nadir” while serving as a squire with Ester.

Tariq - A former enslaved boy from Sindhura who also ends up in Count Barcacion’s custody. A very persistent kid, despite everything he’s been through.

Adil - Another boy that was also enslaved from the kingdom of Turk. Only living relative he has is his mother. Isn’t the best under pressure but develops a very interesting palate and really likes cooking.

Zufar - Another boy that was enslaved from the southwest, what’s now East Africa. Mother is also alive, but barely knows of his father. A very levelheaded kid who loves a good story.

Ben - Ester’s older brother and a current knight of the Princeguard, warriors who serve and protect Prince Hilmes. Hardworking and does not like the faith of Yaldabaoth, at all.

Fariha - A squire that also serves Prince Hilmes under the alias, “Farim”. The older sister of Merten. Is a responsible older sibling and ends up being close with Ben.

Merten - Also a knight serving the princeguard. Fariha’s younger brother. Is surprisingly relatable when it comes to experiencing chaos and he is in for a heck of a ride. He and Fari also have a lost younger brother they’re searching for.

Yardena - A young girl from the Kinda (Keen-da) kingdom (which is now Saudi Arabia) who ends up coming with the Princeguard. A clever and energetic young girl who ends up becoming close with Merten.

Kohinoor - A young feisty Parsian noblewoman and the 2nd daughter of Lord Hodir. Escaped her own home to avoid an engagement to the crown prince. Ends up joining Ester’s friends and has an older sister, Delara.

Aynara - A girl from a nomadic clan that’s under Tūrān’s rule. Really good at horseback archery. A robust girl who doesn’t give up. Join’s Ester team later in the story and befriends Zufar.

Finally, Arslan - The crown prince of Pars who surprisingly has a supporting role in this story but is 100% lawful good and learning about the land beyond his own kingdom. Has unusually pure white hair and sky colored for a Parsian…

Ester and Arslan belong to The Heroic Legend of Arslan, (c) Yoshiki Tanaka and Hiromu Arakawa

[ifreakingloveroyals]

24 April 2015 | Prince Harry salutes as he attends a ceremony to mark the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Gallipoli in front of the Canakkale Matyrs' Memorial in Gallipoli, Turkey. Turkish and Allied powers representatives, as well as family members of those who served, are commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Gallipoli campaign with ceremonies at memorials across the Gallipoli Peninsula. The Gallipoli land campaign, in which a combined Allied force of British, French, Australian, New Zealand and Indian troops sought to occupy the Gallipoli Peninsula and the strategic Dardanelles Strait during World War I, began on April 25, 1915 against Turkish forces of the Ottoman Empire. The Allies, unable to advance more than a few kilometers, withdrew after eight months. The campaign cost the Allies approximately 50,000 killed and up to 200,000 wounded, the Ottomans approximately 85,000 killed and 160,000 wounded. (c) Ercan Arslan/Getty Images