For a long moment he didn’t realize why everyone around him was looking at him as if he had three heads. The city was on fire, stranger things were happening with more pressing consequences than whatever it was they found amusing about him. It wasn’t until Evras tugged at the tunic he had slung over his arm and spoke that he realized what the issue was. His face turned red, but it was out of reflex as opposed to any sort of shame as he yanked the tunic over his head to cover his most delicate bits. The look on Mihail’s face at least was priceless and he would save that image for days when he couldn’t stand the Thanasi.

“I will. Of course my love. Now please, go to Dion and stay safe.”

Vangelis had been right to call him insane, once again thoughts and fears for Evras had driven him into a reckless course of action, and as he kissed her cheek and sent her off with her brother he had to take a second to stop and think about his next moves. Vangelis and the others were headed off to do...something. He had to join them, and help as many others along his way as he could. Mihail and Evras would have taken his horse by now, but he could still move quickly on foot and as he turned to exit the temple, ignoring the looks he was still getting, Zanon tried to plot out the direction his brothers would have gone and the best way to get to them through what was no doubt chaos.

His eyes narrowed as he saw Mihail mounted up, calling after Evras as she turned a different direction and he glanced between the woman on the ground and his wife as she approached her. This was not a time he could condone hesitations. He didn’t know how long they would have before the fire took hold, if it would block them all in the city before Evras had a chance to escape. Calling out to them once more, he nodded to a few warriors he saw standing nearby.

“Mihail. Evras. Go, now! You, with me. We find the other princes on foot and try to stop as much damage as we can.”

Taking stock of the city for another beat, Zanon picked a direction and started jogging towards where the flames looked as if they were closest to the city. If he was right, Vang and the others would have gone to try to create a barrier and find a way to make a wall that the fire could not leap. He knew he was on the right track as he caught sight of a few people tearing down their roofs. It would be a hassle to make again, but in the end it would be better than losing lives or entire homes in the blaze that could catch. He sighted his brothers as he moved into the dense wooden housing of the lowest ring of the city, charging forward and coughing from the ash and his run.

“I’m sorry. Evras. I had to see she went home.” It was all he offered his commander at the moment, standing ready with the contingent of men he’d gathered along his way. “We’ll help with the houses. Send Silas to escort some of the women?” It was question and suggestion all at once, still protective of the youngest of the brothers who had yet to prove himself as thoroughly as the rest but prepared to follow Vangelis’ orders to the letter.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was a mother, that she has seen a human being at its most fragile and therefore held far more compassion now after going through the clear knowledge of how hard it was to make a human being, that she had a lot more compassion then she used to. That was not to say Evras had no compassion before - she did, but merely softened and unseen. What was seen before was loyalty to family and household reputation. Now... now Evras wasn't sure which of which she would put first, when push came to shove.

But she was not entirely clueless of why her brother acted the way he did - Mihail had been the youngest of the family, and was naturally babied. Evras herself was guilty of that, and had played the part of doting sister for a long time. Yet to watch her youngest panic the way he did from the way he complained, Evras couldn't help but frown - it was obvious Mihail was not a big fan of helping, yet the princess was not likely to just walk away from another who was in danger.

Taking Mihail's hands, she sat astride behind her brother, hands gripping the younger Thanasi's waist as he brought them over to the temple of Athena, where his question was directed at both the finer one, and the redheaded. Help was not something Evras thought they could assist at this point - at least not upon horseback. Zanon's steed while powerful, was in no way in shape to carry four riders.

Before they could respond, Evras had to turn when her husband's powerful voice carried across the courtyard of the temple's cavern - it was obvious the second prince would skin her alive if she didn't find a way back soon, and even more obvious that if they did not return the way he had came now, that way would be blocked off.

So she turned to the other two ladies, voice displaying urgency as she spoke. "Follow the temples path - stay within the stone structures if you have to, the stones do not catch fire the way the thatches of roofs do in the city. The temples are as safe as you'll get for now." she murmured, before touching upon Mihail's shoulder. "Once there is a clear path - find a way to the Upper Levels. The princes will keep the fire contained as best as they can, trust them." Because Gods know, Evras trusted her husband at least, and she knew of Vangelis's chivalry in such situations - she's seen her brother in law work more then once to have understood it after marrying into the Kotas family after so many years.

"Mihail," she finally addressed her brother, nudging him. "Let's go, before the fire spreads." Her murmur was soft, her fingers finding purchase on her brother's chiton as they rode to the Upper Levels. For a moment as she recognized a familiar mare, Evras almost stopped Mihail to go after Asia, knowing full well none of her brother's would've allowed her to exit the Kotas mansion - and yet not at all surprised her young sister in law had managed to find a way out.

But to do so would mean to risk danger - and she knew Dion would likely be afraid at home, and she was eager to reach her son for now. So she said nothing, and allowed Mihail to take her back to the Upper Levels.

Olena felt bad for the man, if only for a brief moment. He had hoped to be a hero in all this, and all she was doing was rapidly berating him for even trying. Truth be told, she had expected a hero to swoop in and rescue her from her fate a long time ago. And it never happened. Men used her and bought her body, but never took her away from the pain and torture of being a sex slave.

His attempted to do so now felt insulting. She had been saving herself for quite some time, thank you very much.

As he finally set her down, she quickly adjusted her chiton, the plain fabric having bunched up around her legs when she was carried. Olena straightened herself up, looking over the man as they stood close. He was dark and handsome but certainly wasn’t her type. And while she hadn’t had much experience with free men from other parts of the world, she was familiar with the enslaved ones.

His past would be interesting to hear.

She rolled her eyes a bit. “Yes, better things. Have you never seen a panic attack before?” She waved him off as if it was a normal thing that everyone has seen once in their lives. They were far less common than she wanted to believe. “Half the city is burning, and you are focused on one life. It is noble, to be sure. But a waste.” There was something about men who thought she needed a noble touch that drove her mad. As if they knew what was best for her.

Her hands settled on her hips, eyes searching the heavens for an answer. And instead, she could only come up with sarcasm, “Are you going to make up for being raped at 14? Or the lifetime of abuse I have suffered at the hands of men? No, most likely not.” She stepped back from him, “And to be quite honest, you are wasting your time trying. The longer you stand here trying to convince me that I need your assistance, people who actually do may lose everything.”

She could hear shouting, directions for women and children to take shelter in a nearby temple. Made of stone, they would be safe from the destruction of the fire. “I can make my way to the temple just fine. Go find someone else who needs assistance.” Olena didn’t wait for him to respond, instead of turning hot on her heels and following the crowd into the closest temple.

Which deity it was for, she could not say.

Maeva couldn’t help but exhale an exasperated breath. If Galatea believed she was doing her slaves a favor by permitted them to stay with her she was terribly wrong. Maeva understood this well, but apparently the blonde beauty did not.

Before she had the opportunity to respond, a man -- Maeva knew his face as Mihail of Thanasi -- atop a horse called to them. Could he help them. She had to will herself not to scoff. Well-intentioned, perhaps, but Maeva was sure the last place to crumble would be the stone structures such as the temples. It was sweet he wanted to help them out of danger, admirable.

But stupid.

There were others who weren’t so able-bodied or lacked their wits in the chaos that could benefit from his generosity far more than Maeva or Galatea could. “Ze immediate danger is not ‘ere, My Lord. We will make due. Take your ‘elp to zose in greater need.”

Respectful, though still somewhat curt. There was no time for Maeva to waste words on a nobleman whose priorities were terribly skewed.

Once she had Galatea alone again -- or no less alone than she had been before -- Maeva would look her over. She really was planning on keeping her slaves clinging to her skirts, wasn’t she? The pretty, blonde fool. She supposed she could try to reason with the woman, explain how it was safer for her slaves to cower in the temple, that they’d only get in the way… it seemed equally foolish to waste time on explaining trivialities.

“As you like. Zeir lives are yours, we shall see if zeir dea’ss are yours as well.” Maeva asserted, unwilling to have it said she hadn’t warned against this decision. “You may call me Maeva. Let us be swift. Zis way!”

She pushed past the scared citizens clamoring into the temple and ducked into the shadows of one of the side streets. Maeva knew a shortcut into the lower levels of the city where the fires were staking their claim. She slid away a stone wall that otherwise would have appeared seamlessly to belong to the building to which it was attached to reveal a secret alley with a descending staircase.

Maeva's eyes stung from the smoke and ashy air seeping into the tunnel-like alley. She would reset the stone wall behind them once Galatea and any slaves she brought with her were over the threshold. No traffic meant no one to get in their way or cause delays.

“Ze fires will be strongest,” a cough erupted from her throat, “closer to ze mines. Ze wells and cisterns will not ‘ave enough water. If we can take advantage of the structural weaknesses of ze aqueducts and reservoirs left behind from ze storm, we’ll ‘ave a better chance of dousing ze flames.”

Sure, it would deplete their fresh water reserves, but the structures could be rebuilt and the water could be resupplied. If the city burned to the ground, they’d have no need for water reserves. So it was, in truth, an intelligent move.

Hopefully one that would limit the amount of reconstruction necessary for the city.

With barriers being set up at different levels of the city - one where Vangelis sat upon Windrunner at the very edge of the flames and another situated half way up through the lower levels that Yiannis would be supervising, Vangelis was confident the fire would not spread further than the areas it had already taken to consuming.

With narrowed eyes attempting to stare through the murk and smog, the crown prince noted less panic in his people. While footsteps were hurried and actions rapid as they attempted to claim important objects before running uphill towards the nearest stone structure, he could also see the paths they took to be more organised. They fell into the paths and journeys of their peers or organised holding damp clothes to their faces. While they attempted to evade the smoke and heat with speed, they were no longer controlled solely by fear. They were guided by the hope that the braver of his people were offering. People like his brothers, leading them with orders, or Nike commanding with instruction.

Expelling a sharp cough from his lungs, Vangelis was pleased to see the barrier Nike had begun come to fruition as flames licked at the buildings beside the empty space but were rarely able to jump. Several sparks however were doing their best to breach the gap.

"Douse the buildings!" Vangelis called, pointing towards an aqueduct opening just a little ways up the main street and to the east. While he could make out no faces a redhead and blonde woman seemed in place at its mouth.

Looking behind him and allowing Windrunner to skip a few steps forward, further away from the fires encroaching on his tail, Vangelis coughed again into a closed fist, noting the smoky texture and blackened charcoal of his hand.

"Commander Nike!" The prince called out, readdressing his concerns towards what was important, just as Yiannis and Zanon re-joined him, clearly complete in their tasks. Vangelis was thankful to see that his eldest younger brother at least wore some form of clothing now... He had, however, lost his horse along the way.

"Gather six able bodied!" He called to his Commander as Windrunner became frisky with fear. "Create a unit to help those trapped by flame." He looked to his brother still on horseback. "Yiannis and I will find and draw them out. Help them the rest of the way!"

And with a nudge of his head in a particular direction, indicating for Yiannis to work in mirror to himself, Vangelis kicked his steed into action.

Racing down the street to his left, the flames burning to his left and the safety of the manmade barriers to his right, Vangelis called and yelled to those who might still be alive, trapped somewhere within the buildings already aflame or stuck in a street's alcove, lost in the smoke.

By the time he returned to the main street, he had a small family of three - two children that sat before him on Windrunner and a young woman who ran beside the horse, plus two young men who had been stuck in an upper floor of a structure.

Upon reaching slightly more open air and his lungs thankful for the new freedom, Vangelis coughed before throwing out an arm towards Nike and her now small group of brave fighters. He helped the two children down.

"Go where the Commander tells you!" He told those he had pulled from the flames. The small family did just that but one of the two men decided to stay and help, joining Nike's little band.

"Where is Yiannis?" Vangelis then asked of Zanon. "Has he returned yet?"

The popular whirlwind about them contributed little to Galatea's focus; as Maeve went on, her eyes darted from one edge of the open portico to another, her ears attuned to the piercing screams, demands, cries, and prayers. Her resolve did not falter, however. Even as her slave pled that they leave the city, Galatea made her intent to remain here, and remain useful, clear, by slapping away her servant's hand from her shoulder and refocusing her attention on the woman before her. Mihail of Tanasi was of no consequence; a man seeking respite like the rest of the mortals, as human and vulnerable as she was. No jewel, no cry, no prayer would save any of them; a bucket of water was pathetic when considering what must be the sheer magnitude of the flames that engulfed the tunnels and mines.

My business is fucked already, the blonde thought, her chest tightening at the realization that the metals in the mines would be harder to reach, and that the fear such events would sow into the hearts of the populace would leave House Peisistratos without an able and willing work-force. But her eyes betrayed the fact that numbers were not through her worried mind, nor did she entertain the possibility of being able to return home. Her home. Her business. The fate of her fortune. Problems for another day.

Maeve could say what she wanted about Galatea's slaves. The truth was that Galatea could not recall a moment in her life without the presence of at least one other woman in her vicinity. As a child she dined in the presence of a trusted caretaker; she also became a learned woman because of the oversight of specially chosen, clever teachers. Galatea simply wasn't used to being alone, and neither were either of her nervous slaves, the youngest of which had been born into House Peisistratos. She had known no other life, no other mistress. This was an instance they could bond through, Galatea figured. After all, neither woman had been in this kind of situation. "Maeva, then," Galatea acknowledged with a nod before inclining her head towards her servant. "She has ears, you know." Not long after, both the Baroness and her servant followed Maeve through the soot-covered mass. The blonde raised part of the long skirts she had pinned to her belt up to her mouth, covering her nose and mouth as the air became thicker with smoke, and as her eyes grew watery from the dry, dusty heat they encountered the further they penetrated the crowded streets. Both Galatea and her slave heaved, their throats dry and itchy with dust. Though the alleyway they entered was spared of most of the bothersome particles, the ashes they carried within themselves made their presence known, ripping through their throats by way of merciless coughs.

Her dry throat continued to grip her as Maeve spoke, and though Galatea was unable to break words in her state, her wide eyes betrayed her skepticism. "The mines? Flood the mines? They're up the mountain, not below us... what are you talking about?" Galatea inquired between coughs, shaking her head. Water was a precious resource in these dry regions, and opening the aqueducts would not send the torrent up against the mountain, where the fires first broke and where Galatea imagined it was needed most. To release the supply could mean depriving those closet to the fire of the very tool they needed to combat it... "If you do that, no cistern, no humble well will have a drop of water. The people up there, they don't know what is happening here..." Galatea shook off her trust in this woman and told the slave to help move the stone once more. "This would be a slaughter. The people in the mountains will be defenseless... such a flood at the docks could kill the people there..." Galatea thought out loud as she shook her head, her eyes narrowing on the sliver of light that broke against the tunnel wall. Galatea lent her hands to the servant, quickening the process.

Once open, Galatea turned to the woman and warned: "Do this and many will die." Galatea did not know if being aware of the existence of a person such as Maeve was a blessing or a curse, but she hoped Athena would enlighten the strange woman in this critical moment, and that perhaps she'd arrive at the same conclusions Galatea had. There wasn't much more to say at that moment, and not much to do other than leave. It only took Galatea a few steps out into the open, rejoining the mad crowd.

There was nothing quite like the feeling of holding Leni close to him. For some reason, it made Timaeus feel just as safe and secure as she must have been, tucked up in his strong arms. As he moved through the crowd towards the temple, he could feel her head bury itself in the crook of his neck and her fingers twist around the fabric of his shirt, clear signs that she was scared. In truth, he was too, but he knew that he had to be brave for her and he had faith in the temples. The stone structures would never burn.

As he moved through the crowds, he murmured soft intelligible words of comfort to the girl, hoping to have her see that there was nothing to fear while she was with him like this. He would never let anything bad happen to her. “Shhh… I got you... It’s alright... You’re safe Leni… You’re safe…]” He cooed in her ear, hoping that it would bring her some sense of security. “I promise.”

He kept his word. Delivering her safely to the temple, Timaeus wanted nothing more to turn all of his attention to her, to reassure her that she would be safe even though this was not the beaches. However, his body demanded his attention first. Focusing on his breath for a moment, he didn’t notice how her hands roamed his body, bringing him the comfort that she thought he needed at that moment. Well at least, he didn’t notice until he was almost melting under his touch. His already heaving breath hitched whenever her hands found a new patch of unexplored skin to raise goosebumps along as she ran her hand through his hair and along with his face. Her fingers were warm and brought a sharp contrast to the cold tingles raised from the goosebumps raised in her wake. Good gods, it felt so good… he almost didn’t want her to stop. Not when it relaxed him more than anything else he had ever experienced. It was just… so delightful.

But alas, his breath returned to its normal state and Timaeus straightened himself. “Thanks.” He said simply to her with a small, charming smile.

Ducking his head, Timaeus blushed at the affirmation of him being her rescuer…. again. He shook his head slightly as he jokingly said, his breath slowly returning to normal, “Aye, well that water was fairly deep if I do so recall.” It was a sly joke between the two of them as they both knew how shallow the water really was. She had never really been in any danger that day. Yet, it was still somewhat hilarious retelling the story of the girl adrift in chest-high water, convinced she was going to be lost at sea. Just like her, it was truly unforgettable.

As Leni’s smile begin to grow now that the immediate danger had passed, Timaeus also found himself relaxing bit by bit as she found her cheerful self again. The baron was so used to seeing her attitude light and airy that even just seeing her stressed was enough to keep his chest tight as well. However, she seemed to take some humor in his little quips. Not that they were any good, mind you. But at least getting to see her smile was enough to bring a slight bit of peace to his mind.

“Yes,” He said with a light chuckle in response to the statement that there would be other days out on the market, “Of course. After all, we still need to replace that dress.”

Things were beginning to seem okay, despite the fires that raged outside. However, the pair’s giddy, childish laughter was brought to a screeching halt as an older woman approached them revealing to the pair that it was likely the mine that caused the earth to shake earlier. Timaeus was about to question her and take on a matter-of-fact and let’s-fix-it attitude when Leni decided to swoop in instead to offer support and comfort. A small grin of appreciation crept onto his face. Ah, yes that’s what she would actually need at this moment. Tim couldn’t give that kind of support. Not in a million years.

As Leni moved away with the older woman, there was something about the way that she tended to her, her kind smile showing in her muddy brown eyes. Did he ever notice before how her alluring it was to see how her hair fell about her shoulders as she became a pillar of support for the heartbroken woman? How was she able to stand so strong when the world was collapsing around her? Even Timaeus could feel himself grow weak at the knees in that very moment. He wanted to collapse again as jolts of electricity flooded his veins, leaving small pangs in his stomach that made him want to collapse but only at her feet. He just couldn’t tear his eyes off of her, almost as if she were a goddess and he was just a worshipper, in awe of her glory. His arm clutched against his stomach in an attempt to keep himself upright. Good lord, he silently thought to himself, had the smoke gone to my head?

His mind was forcefully torn away when he felt a hand harshly smack against his shoulder blades as some unfamiliar palm grasped them. Timaeus tried to turn around to see who had the sheer audacity to touch him, a baron and a captain, in such a rough manner, but he was held in place as a gruff voice said close to his ear, “All able-bodied body men are being summoned to help put out the fire. Thank you for carrying that pretty little thing in here, now scram and go haul some water.”

The man was so close to him that Timaeus could feel little tiny flecks of the man’s spit hit the side of Tim’s cheek. He flinched and attempted to move his head away as a fire was lit in his eyes, though was it in response to the disrespect he was being shown or the callous way the stranger was referring to Leni. He didn’t know which was causing his blood to boil more.

He didn’t say a word while he was still facing Leni, biting down on his tongue to keep his cool and keep his secret from her. However, when the hands on his shoulder reached down to his arms as the man tried to turn Timaeus away, the baron whirred around on the spot, easily shaking the man off of him as he was the stronger of the two.

Taking in the sight of the man, it was easy to see why the man was acting in such a manner towards the Baron. It was a freaking power trip for him. Timaeus carefully took in the younger man’s appearance. Thin frame, ugly face, clean military uniform. He was youthful in his appearance, but Timaeus knew the military well enough and could tell instantly he was too old to be a new recruit. Nah, he had clearly been in his unit for a while, but judging by the fact that he was here collecting men meant that he was not very good at his job. Otherwise he’d be out there, helping with the effort. Timaeus could tell instantly what was going on. He was after a chance to show a stronger man who was “their better” just because he had a military uniform on and Timaeus didn’t.

Oh, he picked the wrong fight.

“Feisty little shit, eh, careful now.” He said as Tim glared at the soldier, letting his eyes be the only warning he’d receive before he let loose. Instinctively, his gaze broke for a moment to glance back at Leni and the other man noticed. He made that clear by saying with a sickening chuckle, “There’s no need to worry. Your little lovebird will be safe here, with me.” He said with a small smirk that sent a chill up Timaeus’s spine as the lower ranking soldier hungrily glanced Leni over. The baron’s expression darkened and his hands balled up into slight fists as he bit down hard on his tongue, trying to conceal the rage boiling deep within him. This was hardly the place to cause a scene, but gods be damned if Timaeus would let this boy get his grubby little paws anywhere near Leni.

“You will do no such thing.” The baron gravelly warned as he locked eyes with the boy, almost challenging him to fight him on the issue. The greenling was foolish enough to take Tim’s bait.

“And who are you to tell -” He started to say with a light chuckle. The noise died when he was interrupted with by the older man’s words;

“Timaeus of Valaoritis.” He deadpanned, taking a slight bit of joy as he watched the color drain from the boy’s face as his mistake dawned on him. He had clearly been looking for a fight or a chance to assert himself as the better in this temple, little did he know he chose the wrong man to rile up. “Captain of the Men of the Heights and Baron of Eubocris.” He finished slowly, his voice barely above a whisper so if Leni was looking on, she would not be able to hear. Timaeus didn’t want her finding out about his noble blood like this. Not here. Not now.

He made a point to look over the soldier’s outfit, noticing the lack of embellishments to signify high rank or significant accomplishments. Clearly, this lad had not impressed whoever his commanding officer was, but Tim knew the colors he was wearing. The maroon of Kotas was not an easy shade to mistake. “The Red Knights or The Creatures of the Deep?” He asked, naming the two units led by their Princes, “Doesn’t matter I suppose. I know them both. I’m sure the Kotas will be pleased to hear how respectful you were, Sir…” He trailed off at the end as the smirk grew, knowing he had the boy pinned in a corner.

“Callimachus…” The boy stammered back, his fear growing more apparent by the second. Probably one of Vangelis’s men then, Timaeus thought silently to himself, I’ve never known Zanon to make a man so nervous.

“What a mouthful. I’ll be sure to remember it.” He said confidently, knowing full well he’d probably struggle with the name later. This boy didn’t need to know that little tidbit though. Glancing back over his shoulder at the beautiful redhead, Timaeus realized that he could probably make some good use from the boy who was now practically shaking in his boots.

“If you value your freedom Callimachus,” He said, letting the implication of spending time in the Fylaki or even the mines linger in the air as Timaeus sought to secure his own interests, “You will do everything in your power to ensure that my lovebird,” Tim mockingly spat out, “Comes to no harm while she is here. Do you understand me?

“If this building is burning, you get her out. If someone bothers her, you drag them away. Her life is now paramount to your own and if so much as a single hair on her head is harmed --” He trailed off as he tried to swallow his rising anger. Timaeus bit his tongue again, letting his mouth fill with that metallic taste before finishing, “--I will hold you personally responsible.”

The boy nodded hurriedly in understanding, knowing full well that if any harm came to her, it could very well mean that his life would be forfeit if Timaeus was enraged enough. That could very well happen or it may not. Who knew with an enraged, unknowingly lovesick Baron?

“Now if you’ll excuse me, as you said all able-bodied men are needed.” He said, emphasizing the word man, letting one last insult sink in as he turned away from the soldier and walked over to the only person in that building he truly cared about.

He approached carefully, not wanting to spook the older woman who was currently sobbing into Leni’s shoulder, tugging at his otherwise hardened heartstrings. He couldn’t pull his eyes off of the way that the redhead tenderly cared for the woman in her hour of need. Empathy like that was an art he didn’t understand, but from the way Leni patiently let the woman grieve for a loved one she didn’t know if she had even lost. The amount of respect Tim had for the young woman grew along with the small knot forming in his stomach.

Leni’s eyes glanced up to meet his as he crouched down next to her, reaching out a hand to her back to give her a bit of emotional support. For a moment, the three of them, neither of them said a word, letting the crying woman have her moment. When her sobs began to subside, Timaeus quietly murmured to the redhead, “They’re summoning all the men to go fight the fire. I have to go.” He knew that Leni would not be pleased, that she would naturally fight against it, but his expression asked her not too. She didn’t understand. If he remained here, cowering in the temple, well the consequences would be immense for him. He had no choice.

The silence returned for a moment before Timaeus turned to the older woman and asked gently, “What does he look like?” The words carried the empty promise that Timaeus would look for the missing Cyril, which the woman clung too as she recounted details that were both too generic and specific to ever lead to Tim finding the missing lad. Although he nodded at her words, there was a twinge of sadness in his eyes as he secretly knew that if he had been in the mines and they were what was to blame for the collapse, there was little chance that her loved one would make it out.

Her words blurred in his mind as he took a side glance at the other girl and his heart suddenly skipped a beat when it finally struck him that once he left this temple, it was entirely possible that he may not come back. Time seemed to slow as it began to consume his mind. I could die today. I might die. The hand on Leni’s back began to tremble slightly, could she feel it? Timaeus was terrified of death. It already took his father and brother so he knew that it didn’t care for Timaeus. Hades would not think twice about stealing him away from the mortal world.

Dozens of faces flashed through his mind, considering who he might leave behind if the smoke became too much or the heat was too intense. His mother. Silanos. Roxana. And oddly enough… Leni. A small jolt through his stomach made him realize that he didn’t want to leave her behind. That she mattered to him more than he would care to admit.

“Please, you have to find him.” The old woman pleaded, forcing Timaeus’s thoughts back to the here and now.

“You have my word -- I will try my best.” Timaeus carefully said, lying right through his teeth. All he wanted to do was bring her a bit of comfort and it seemed to work as she expressed her gratitude to the Lord.

Uneasy with the lie he just told, Timaeus said quietly to her, “May the gods be good.” They were meant to be words of comfort, but they were just as empty as his previous comment. The Gods did not care for mortals like them.

As the woman relaxed a bit, Tim glanced at Leni and motioned for her to move away a bit with him. “Let’s give her some space.” He muttered quietly as he straightened himself up and moved away from the moment, fully expecting Leni to follow.

“I can’t stay for long, it won’t look good if I do, but I needed to say it in case... you know--” He said quietly, trailing off at the end as he glanced over at the redhead. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. They both knew what he meant. Yet, somehow he struggled to find the words he needed. Hanging his head a bit, his right hand reached up to rub at his neck, unsure of what to say as Timaeus’s stomach felt so jittery and he struggled to concentrate with Leni standing so close to him. He just couldn’t tear his eyes off of her. He could find himself being so easily lost in those dark brown eyes that seemed to ensnare him. He drunk in every detail of her face, afraid that this may be the last time he ever saw her. He shouldn’t feel this way, yet oddly he did. What on earth was happening?

“I’m so sorry for all the trouble I put you through. If we make it out of this… I just want you to know that I…” He choked on his words., somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer gravity of what was happening around them with the fire. “I…. I…I…”

His mind, confronted with the fact that he may end up dying, decided at that moment it wanted to protect itself. His thoughts went fuzzy as his throat felt as if something was caught in it. His stomach jumped and lurched, but in some sort of good way, only when he was looking into Leni’s eyes. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, skipping a beat or two, maybe even three. His thoughts couldn’t decide what to do. Push her away, protect itself from whatever spell she was putting on him, do his duty and move on. Or pull her close and never let go. He wanted to protect her. Keep her safe from the fires and not have to leave her under the not-so-watchful eye of some sleaze ball soldier. He liked having her close to him like this. He really, really liked it. But if anything, he wanted her closer.

Focus. Timaeus silently thought to himself, trying to reel his mind in, but it was useless. He was too far gone between the allure of her smile (oh god those lips) and the overhanging threat of the fire raging outside, something he would have to willingly run into.

So, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that he reached out for her as he did in the market when the earth started shaking. Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her close to him, eager to feel her warmth one last time. Closing his eyes, he took in the sensation of this moment, something he never knew he really needed. It felt so strange and so new, but yet familiar all the same -- probably because they were not strangers to this sense of intimacy even though they may have been in almost every other sense of the word.

Then without thinking, because Lord knew that he could no longer do that, he tilted his head down slightly so that his chin was just barely brushing the top her temple. Looking back later, he would try to convince himself that he only did it to look at her beautiful, stunning eyes.

But his lips had a different plan.

Carefully, almost hesitantly, his head ducked down just a bit lower and with the utmost care, almost as if she were a tiny delicate flower in an open moor and he was a lumbering beast, afraid of trampling her; his lips brushed her warm, tantalizing skin. His eyes slipped shut as he reached for the one thing that he didn’t realize would keep him going once he left the safety of the temple to answer the call of the city he called home. Even if she pushed him away, it would be enough to give him the strength to push away the fear and keep going. He already knew it.

And to think it was only a simple kiss to her temple.

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The sounds of the fires outside snapped him out of it. Opening his eyes and pulling away quickly, a slow startled look crossed his face as he realized what he had done. “Sorry.” He said quietly as he stepped back, afraid that he had overstepped a boundary. He didn't even really understand if he truly liked her or not, so why was he doing that? She had not given him any indictation that she felt the same way about him, however he felt. It was all confusing mess of emotions that he couldn't make sense of, not when there was such an obvious looming threat against him. That was probably what spurred him to do such a thing anyways. The baron was so afraid that he wasn't going to come back that even the promise of chance of finding safety in her once he returned... he must have thought that it would have been enough to push him through the dangers he would face in just a few moments. He hoped it would be. He could already tell that he was going to need it. Then without looking back to see how she reacted, Tim moved to the doors at a pace just slightly too fast for a man who was afraid that he would never come back.

Once Timaeus left the safety of the temple, he wasn’t sure where to go as he watched other men move around, trying desperately to save their city. Naturally, Timaeus would try to take a leadership position, rally men to his cause. He had been a Captain for nearly ten years and a baron for two. That was just second nature to him. But none of the men out here was from his unit and since he was dressed in more informal attire, he was doubtful that he could garner anyone’s attention in such a dire situation. He already knew he would be wasting his breath if he tried. So, Timaeus did what he could. Whenever an extra set of hands were needed, he was there. It was all he could do to swallow his lingering fear was this and try his hardest to ignore the sight of the world burning around him.

The flames licked the roof of one such building. Glancing in the doorway, thrown open in someone’s mad rush for safety, Timaeus could see that the interior of the shop had also burst into flames. In between the fire’s curls, he could see smoldering bolts of fabric and a loom somewhere deep in the shop. The smoke that billowed out of the burning building was choking, forcing Timaeus to cover his mouth in order to just stare at the scene as he heard the cries of someone deep inside, forcing him to stop for a moment to see if anything could be done. But he knew there was nothing he could do. The smoke was too thick, the heat too intense. No one, but the gods could save that poor soul now.

This also wasn’t a snap judgment that Timaeus made, he knew there was no hope for whoever was deep inside that shop because right across the entryway, staring at the young baron with eyes seeing nothing was a young man. His chiton was alight from fallen thatch from the roof, but he didn’t react as Hades already claimed him as one of his own. No, he would have been desperately trying to beat out the flames that were now charring his caramel colored skin and slowly crawling up to his equally shaded hair, long and clean. It was clearly a source of pride for the boy before he was cruelly struck down. The Baron stared, expression blank and taking in every feature of the poor lad, his mind racing with only one line of thought, “That could have been us. That could have been Leni. That could have been me.”

He muttered a silent prayer up to the gods, in thanks for sparing him and Leni thus far, but even as he said it, he knew very well it could be an empty thanks.

As long as the fires raged, no one was out of the woods just yet.

He lingered just long enough for the screams to die away in the roar of the fire, so someone would be a witness to that poor soul’s death. Only then was he able to tear himself away, making himself a promise that when the flames settle, he would be sure to send the needed coins to send both those two and countless other victims of today’s disaster the payment they needed to cross the Styx. That was the least he could do. If he couldn’t help them in life, he could certainly arrange for a peaceful afterlife.

Moving on from the burning fabric shop, Timaeus went from structure to structure, doing whatever he could to assist. Lifting fallen beams, guiding people away from the smoke, passing along buckets of water. It was all a blur as Timaeus jumped from one thing to the next. He only really became aware of what he was doing when he heard Vangelis’s voice somewhere nearby, but he couldn’t make out the words because of the sheer amount of noise. Glancing around, he searched for the prince and although he didn’t see the Kotas Prince, there was another face that Timaeus recognized running about, causing him to crack a small grin in contrast to all the carnage occurring around them.

“Commander Nike!” Timaeus called out as he hurried over to the military man, grateful to see that his old friend was unharmed so far. However, the smile was short-lived when he noticed the child in his arms and the woman following shortly after, also burdened with the weight of another little one. Needing no explanation as to what was happening, Timaeus motioned for the child on Nike’s hip as he briskly said with the natural commanding tone he had developed over his years as a Baron, “Give them to me. You’re needed out here.”

Timaeus must have been a bit of a shock for Nike, figuring how long it had been since the two of them had last seen each other. (Nevermind his ragged appearance takes to the torn cloth and soot covering him.) Eight years was clearly a long time and so much had changed for Timaeus in that time. He was now a Baron, something that little sixteen-year-old, eager to prove something to the world, never would have imagined him doing. Fate had a funny way of working like that. That was certainly a lesson that the people of Midas would be learning today.

With little words, the Commander handed over the child, who Timaeus quickly scooped up into a protective embrace, turning them so their face would be buried in his shoulder. They would most likely find it uncomfortable, but at least he knew that their little lungs would be spared the worst of the smoke and soot. Once Timaeus knew that his newest charge was secure, he turned back to Nike again and said simply, “Hera's Temple. If you need to find them.” With that, he turned on his heels and headed in the direction of the stone temple where he had left the last person who had clung to him as tightly as the child did. He didn't run as he did before, lest he'd lose the other woman in the crowd, but his pace was hurried nevertheless. He could feel the child sobbing from sheer terror onto his shoulder, into the crook of his neck. Instinctively, he reached up to support the child's head while murmuring soothing, nonsensical words of comfort to them. As if their home wasn't on fire and they were being carried by an utter stranger to an unknown place.

In no time at all, the young baron crossed the threshold to Hera's temple and gently set the child down. They immediately ran to the other woman who had kept pace with the soldier. As they clung to her skirts, Timaeus took a moment to glance around for the familiar redhead, but she must have been deeper into the temple. Not seeing her brought a small sense of panic into him, but he knew he didn't have the time to search for her. This family had only been one of the countless others who would need help that evening. Timaeus bit his inner cheek in worry before turning back to the woman to give her some advice for taking shelter in the temple. With a quick nod from her, Timaeus took off again.

There was still work to be done.

Unburdened by the weight of others, Timaeus ran back to the commander and was about to inquire as to where he would be of the most use. Before he could, however, Tim was cut short by the arrival of another, darker, soldier going on about trapped children. His previous question died on his lips as he turned to the other man and said roughly with his eyes so wide they seemed to nearly bug out of his head, “And you left them to burn!?!” His tone was incredulous, showing his clear disbelief in how so easily someone could walk away from a situation where help could be given… even if it was to find more hands to complete the task. It only took minutes for a person to succumb to the fire and the smoke. These children would have less time than that.

“Take us to them.” Timaeus commanded the lower ranking soldier. His anger and stress over the situation only aided the power behind his voice. However, it didn't seem to be quick enough for the baron, especially as he felt the seconds tick painfully by. Seconds these kids may not have. “NOW!” He bellowed, urging the soldier to move faster to wherever these trapped children were.

They had no time to waste.