When Asia saw her brother come in, she let out the pent-up breath that she was holding for her impending argument with her mother about not needing even more gowns or even sandals to wear. She understood why she was being so nit-picky, Athanasia was her only daughter and yet somehow Asia became not girly. " At least it is you coming in the door and not mother, again. She found the last stash I tried to hide and took them." With that part, Asia scrunched her nose in irritation as she grouched.

"If Euphemia was here, she would know what to pack that would appease mother. When I suggested that she go pack too, I admit, I didn't quite think that out." Almost all her favorite outfits were already packed away and ready to go, Asia was at a loss for what else she might be forced to take. "Honestly, I feel like I am done with all the packing, two trunks ago. Mother insisted I take my books to study while not at home. Then she suggested more elegant gowns 'fit for my station'. I know she means well, it's just, not me." At this last part, Asia let out a growl of frustration that was laced with a grumpy whine. Her normal sound when she was frustrated with their mother but didn't want to disappoint her. Seeing Vangelis' small bag, Athanasia's frustration increased, "Why can't I pack like you? It's not like I am going there for any suitors or parties or anything to that nature."

She knew she was venting about too many things that weren't truly vexing her that much, though vexed she was indeed about the three trunks insisted for her, Asia sat down on the side of her bed with a loud sigh, finally voicing her worry. "Do you think Zanon and Evras are going to be ok? Dion?"

Asia was looking around her room, placing all her odds and ends back to where she usually had them since her mother deemed them unfit for the trip. She could not help but be irritated by it all as she placed the shorter chitons and even some of the pants, that she learned how to make on her own, that her mother removed all got put back into their trunks that were not going along for the trip. After closing the lid with a loud thump her brother's words had her turning to look at him almost defiantly.

"Listen to her? But all she wants me to do is dress up and.. well.. be a princess." With her arms gesturing almost wildly as she motioned to herself as well as the rest of the room to encompass everything in her talk. "Why do I need to grow up different from you or any of my brothers? I want to be strong, like you all. I do not want to be one of those damsels you hear about in those tales we heard at bedtime from the nursemaid. I don't want any man who thinks me beneath him just because I am a female." Asia knew she was sulking now, hardly a picture of strength or anything as she sat on her bed and complained lightly about his light packing. At Vangelis' smile, Asia was about to snarl more at him till he suddenly surprised her speechless, and speechless she was as her jaw dropped slightly as she looked the new bow over from a distance. "I-is... is that for me?"

Asia inched closer now, almost as if the bow were a cat that she didn't want to scare away as she looked it over. It was bigger than the one she was used too, reaching about her lower rib cage to the floor, gleaming mahogany that had her itching to take it. Should she though? After all, she did throw her last bow at Zanon's head, even if she missed. Taking the bow gently, she looked it over with the mesmerized look still gleaming in her eyes. It wasn't long before she was tugging on the cord, finding it much harder to do now than it was with her old bow. Without warning, Athanasia used all her strength to jump up as she wrapped her arms around her brother's neck as she hugged him tightly. "Thank you for the beautiful gift. I promise I will take care of it. Asia didn't mind that Vangelis didn't answer her last question, distracted as she was, and with a solemn and silent promise to the gods, she vowed to at least try not to get on her mother's last nerve anymore. "Where am I going to put it? I know not a trunk, I do not want to let it go. Maybe..? No, that wouldn't work. I know where, though it might make mother mad.." With that thought, Asia laced the bow over her shoulders to rest around her and comfortably over her back, smiling cheekily up at Vangelis. "Ready to go? Euphemia should be done by now." As Asia thought over things, there were some things that she plotted to talk to Vang about once they were on the boat and away from listening 'walls'.

Vangelis's smile dropped at Euphemia entered the room. Not because of the young serving girl or who she was, but because it was his natural habit to rarely smile among anyone besides his immediate family. For some reason, his personal stoicism had simply hard wired his brain to only smile when he was within the intimate and private environment of just his family - and only then when there was something dramatic to account for it; such as his sister's happiness over the new bow.

Pointing a finger at Asia as the conversation came to a natural close around Euphemia's entrance, he speared the girl with a sharp look that she would knew well came from an old brother who was not messing around.

"We'll continue this conversation later." He told her, in reference to her opinions on their mother and how she wanted Athanasia to be a princess - which was something that Vangelis was going to be forced to mention on the boat ride, was exactly what she was. And there was going to come a time very soon when she was going to have to start acting like it.

At Euphemia's excitement for the trip, however, which was clearly shared by his sister, Vangelis didn't want to spoil the fun and, therefore, allowed the discussion to be dropped for now. They would have several days at sea - almost eleven of them, if winds were even, far longer if they were rough - in order to discuss these things.

"I think she is." Vangelis said, instead, answering Euphemia's question about the princess being packed. "Which means it's time for the trunks to be loaded up and sent down to the docks and you -" He pointed at Athanasia again. "-to say goodbye to Mother. She'll be fretting to let you go do try and show some decorum when you do, Asia. She'll be worried sick if she thinks you're leaving with all that uncontrollable energy about you. She won't know what you're likely to do with it."

Flicking a gesture to the servants in the room to pick up the trunks - minus Euphemia who he allowed to remain in the room as Asia's companion - Vangelis called to the two men in the corridor whom he had told to wait, indicating for them to come in and help.

Within a few minutes, the room had been decanted of the crates that were going, but Vangelis maintained a hold on the back he had slung over his shoulder.

Turning to leave with a chivvying motion to the girls, the three of them headed quickly to the foyer where Vangelis' three bodyguards (including Nike) were ready to go and a half dozen servants were also packed and ready to journey with them. It wasn't every day that two members of the immediate royal family went travelling together and the look on his Mother's face - who stood to one side assessing her eldest and youngest children with a firm eye - said exactly that.

Stepping forward to place an arm around his mother's shoulders and draw her close in order to place a respectful kiss on the crown of her head, Vangelis murmured into his mother's hair something about not worrying so much and how he would be looking after her. His mother smiled back at him and returned the affection with a kiss to his temple that he had to lean down to receive.

He then stepped back to allow Asia to bid her own farewells.

Military men did not need much for travels - a small rucksack containing her few changes of clothings, extra bindings for herself and naught much else was slung over her shoulders. Since being told by Vangelis that they were to return to Taengea a few days prior, the commander had been anxious, but was not about to tell her general she did not favor going back. While it had been almost sixteen years since she had departed from her home Kingdom in the dead of the night, it did not change the fact that Nike had ran away from her drunkard father - and the commander had no wish for not only her cover to be blown, but to confront a past she had no wish to revisit, and Vasiliadon was getting too close for comfort. That plus Nike and water had never been the best of friends. To spend almost two weeks on the sea was... not a very happy prospect.

Nevertheless however, the woman has been trained to treat responsibilities first and in the life she had chosen for herself, her responsibility included heading to Taengea.

So with nervous hands, she had packed her bag, stuffed the two daggers into either side of her heavy leather-buckled boots, and slung her bag before heading to the foyer to wait. Much like Vangelis, she too wore a pair travel-hardy leather pants, a belt low slung across her waist to cinch the black, light tunic she wore. The only addition was the leather vest she always had over her regular clothing when she was out of her armor. It was hot, but Nike had to wear it for further cover. On her bag, she had strapped her longsword, but it was her new claymore that she had hooked on to her belt. She was getting there already, almost at the very least. Now she just needed to learn the nuances of wielding a heavier weapon with both hands.

By the time she got to the foyer, Nike was glad to see the other two bodyguards who would come on the journey with them already waiting. Not that she had any doubt that they would dally - she was not gentle in her position as the head bodyguard to the crown prince, and would settle for no mistakes or lateness. The rest of the men who would follow for protection of the princess and her brother had headed on towards the ship that they were to board, to ensure security and safety as well as to prep for the royal's arrival.

As the two siblings descended, her eyes flickered to Athanasia and Nike gave a fond smile - she had watched the princess grow up, and would always have a soft spot for the girl. The commander gently gave a wry smile, shrugging to her question. "Not entirely. But your presence would enliven it for sure, my princess." the words slipped off her tongue, before she motioned to the Queen once Vangelis stepped away. Watching the interactions of the family, it was a familiar ache that burgeoned in Nike's heart - she had never had much of a family, other then the ones in the military, and even then they were not all welcoming to her.

Watching the Kotas family had always been a bittersweet experience for her, but she took great pride in what she did, and her affection for the family she had spent serving for half her life would not waver in the slightest.

Once the group started moving, Nike fell in step behind the others, until they got out on the steps where the horses which would bring them to the docks awaited.

Vangelis smiled, as his sister stepped forward to embrace their mother and speak with her her goodbyes and hopes for her safety. Vangelis had never been able to put into words just how much he loved his family. He wasn't sure if, because of who he was, he had been chosen by the Gods to be given to Tython or Yanni specifically, or if the nurturing of the House of Kotas had made him into the man he had become. Either way, it was a frequent balm to his heart - a contented happy feeling that took a hold of his chest - when he realised how fitting he was to his relations and how perfect they were for him. All of them - not just himself - were limited in their ability to verbalise their feelings. Asia might be passionate in her words and Silas might be more openly affectionate than perhaps some of the other siblings. But they were all only willing to discuss surface issues or practical arguments of the world around them. It was rare that any of them spoke their true feelings. Such as now... When his sister Asia - who would do nothing but complain about his mother from dawn until dusk, says nothing of their animosity or friction in her goodbye and focuses entirely on their mother keeping herself safe while Asia was away. She even went as far as to admit that she would miss the woman. Which was why Vangelis was now sporting his customary side smile. For while the Kotas might not verbalise it too often and might even have difficulties admitting their inner thoughts and emotions even to themselves... there was no denying the love and commitment that was in the very bones of each and every one of them. Blood Above All, indeed.

Yanni displayed the trust and faith in those very words in how she, not once, told Vangelis to look after Athanasia on their journey abroad. Not once did she seem seriously worried to frightened at the notion of her youngest child travelling outside of her protective reach for the first time - the last of the Kotas siblings to move outside of the sphere of maternal care. She did not have to say it, or show it, because of her faith in Vangelis. And Vangelis, in turn, felt a swell of pride as her son. She knew that he would protect his sister with his life and soul; that nothing was ever going to happen to her under his watch. And so, she - the Queen of all of Colchis - would be able to sleep easy whilst her youngest child was away. Because her eldest would be there also.

If it hadn't been already, Vangelis felt his determination and dedication to his sister's safety turn to stone within him. Not only would he never allow something to happen to Asia, based on his own love and affection for her. But there was no way he would ever disappoint his mother's trust, either. The dual motivations were solidified into something that was a familiar and welcome burden that Vangelis took up willingly and with great pride that it had fallen on him.

As he waited for his mother and sister to finish saying their farewells, Vangelis looked over towards one of the arched corridors leading back into the reception rooms of the Kotas manor. Leaning against the frame of the first arch, the eldest of his young brothers stood with folded arms and a slouched and easy demeanour. He was watching the rest of his family in their adieus and then looked up to catch Vangelis' eye. In that moment, it was as if the two brothers were given the gift of the Gods and could communicate with their minds. The tiniest changes to their expressions, the lull of a blink or the shadow of a nod rather than any actual, physical movement, were the only indicators needed for a whole communication between them. Without words, Zanon had communicated his own trust in Vangelis for looking after their little sister on the journey to Taengea. And in a similar silent manner, Vangelis had indicated his expectation for his brother to protect the rest of the Kotas family while he was gone. While this was often an unneeded exchange between the two brothers - whom had served together on battlefields and had not had to express their trust and reliance in each other for many years - it was a significant moment now after the events of the last few weeks. It felt important, to the both of them Vangelis was sure, for Zanon to reiterate his unconditional faith in the Head of his House and almost more so for Vangelis to assure Zanon that he had not in any way changed his belief in Zanon or his capabilities. Not even after the... situation... that had recently passed between him and his wife and son. Zanon would still be Vangelis' most trusted. He was, in that moment, certain that nothing would ever change that. And it was important that, in their first goodbye since the incident, that Vangelis communicated that - even in their strange and silent ways.

When he felt that it wouldn't be an interruption to the moment of connection between his mother and sister, Vangelis headed towards the main doors of the Kotas manor, noting in his peripheral that Zanon stayed where he was. The two of them had shared so many goodbyes that this was hardly something new or momentous to either of them. Hugs had never been their thing, regardless.

Upon exiting the manor, several things happened in quick succession. Vangelis found his horse Windrunner brought in for his use, a second steed that was for the purpose of Nike to mount and the Kotas royal carriage was brought forwards into the courtyard, drawn by its usual two chestnut mares, groomed to a fine shine. The rest of the luggage and goods that Vangelis was taking with them - such as gifts and aids to the family they were staying with - were already fastened onto the vehicle and a young slave jumped forwards to open the door for the princess. Before Asia could take the offer with a smile, however, they were all paused as a second carriage came into the large courtyard that prefaced the Kotas manor. The vehicle was white, in stark contrast to the black of the Kotas box and was drawn by two black geldings. Its driver curved the horses' path so as to make a sweep around the courtyard, ensuring that the large wheels of the carriage would not be in the way of the main archway that provided both entrance and exit to the cobbled space.

Vangelis folded his arms, braced his feet and waited calmly as the door - emblazed with the crest of the House of Drakos - was flung open before a servant could reach it and his cousin the Lady Imeeya was joining their small group, her pace purposeful as was expected of someone of Kotas blood but also elegant, for she was a lady and trained well to be such by Lady Tythra. Vangelis knew for a fact that his mother was in constant frustration that her sister-in-law was able to mould and shape the Lady Imeeya into an elegant woman, despite her hot-headed and opinionated ways - and yet Yanni had so far failed to do the same with Athanasia.

Dressed in an elegant chiton but appropriate footwear for a ship, Vangelis said nothing regarding her arrival - at least initially - besides throwing out a hand to the slaves that produced Imeeya' luggage and directing them towards the royal Kotas carriage. There was plenty of space still unoccupied on its top that would be able to support Imeeya's possessions.

When his cousin spoke his name, excited to greet both himself and his sister, Vangelis gave the same half smile and bowed his head to her in respect of her gender. When she hastened to explain her fears that she had kept them waiting, Vangelis was then shaking his head and offering a small, dismissive wave before she had even finished her sentence.

"Fear not." Vangelis commented, looking back towards the open manor door, where his mother had stepped out into the light of day in order to see them off. "If anyone was at risk of delaying our departure it would be the Queen." He said with an amused smile that his mother retaliated with a wrinkling of her nose at him. Vangelis let a real grin - something that rarely graced his features - flash for a moment at his mother's spunk. The woman was everything his father had ever hoped for or wanted. A woman of strength, character, maternal power and authority... a matriarch to their family and the kingdom as a whole. Vangelis' father, the King, was so hands on in his matters of war and conflict that he left the kingdom solely in the hands of his wife on several occasions. That had been what he had needed in a wife. Not a woman, but a Queen. And Vangelis knew that he would have to find the same...

Turning away from his mother's gaze and gesturing to the open carriage door, Vangelis hastened his sister, cousin and Euphemia into the box in question, determined to shake off the mixture of nostalgia and pressure he suddenly felt resting on his shoulders and be present in this moment.

They were never going to get anywhere if they didn't hurry up.

Once the ladies were secure inside the carriage and Vangelis had given a cursory glance over the fastening on the luggage (it was not his role or responsibility to ensure them fastened tight but it would be himself and his party delayed were one to fall to the ground mid-journey) and moved towards his own mount. Windrunner stood calm, yet eager for his master and Vangelis took control of him quickly, the bridles wrapping around his fingers and his hands guiding the creatures head towards the exit of their home. With a quick glance and nod at Nike, who was also drawing herself up onto the horse, Vangelis indicated clearly for his bodyguard and commander to be at the rear of the procession, behind the carriage holding his sister and cousin, and then directed his own steed towards the front. Several mounted guards, who had stood to one side in the courtyard already tacked, saddled and ready to go, now moved forwards to fill in at the sides and the carriage and one on either side of Vangelis to ensure his protection as crown prince.

With the kick of his heels, Vangelis led the now large group through the grand archway at the front of his family's property and turned right onto the main road that would lead them down into the capitol, headed for the docks at the very furthest point of Midas.

The journey through the city streets was as much as Vangelis would have expected. With regards to the route they took and the streets they saw, Vangelis was unsurprised by it all. He was to be the king of this nation - the leader of its people - and it was a responsibility he had taken seriously since... well, since birth apparently as he couldn't remember a time when he had not. To that end, Vangelis had learnt everything he could about his kingdom. Not a natural scholar, it had taken him repetition of the academic knowledge he now possessed for it to stick - in the same way training with a weapon required repeated use and training to master. But now, he knew the exact layout and plan of the city. He knew every street and every building. He could tell you every business that resided on each street. It was an old habit of his that, upon returning home after each of his campaigns, he would don a cloak and hood and wander the city, checking that trades hadn't changed or new structures hadn't been built. And memorising any additions to the city.

He knew that such a skill was mostly useless. That it was a party trick he could deal out in moments where his skill of rule or dedication to his people was ever in question (not that it ever had been). But he liked the fact that he knew who and what it was that he was ruling. At least in the capitol.

And so... as the party made their way through the streets of the Upper Levels and then through the main walls that separated the rich from the lower classes, Vangelis saw everything as he had always seen it - a feeling of familiarity and certainty were his companions from the manor to the first breach of gates. After that...? The scenes were less familiar...

Darkened by soot and ash, the lower levels of the city were still very much recovering from the fires they had only managed to finally extinguish a few days ago. While the structures were safe and the rock they were carved from unhindered by the black that now smeared the white stone, several roofs that were made of thatch had been burnt into dust, the curtains that most people used to cover the archway in the rock that was their doors were disintegrated. Normally each door sported a bright colour or pattern, giving life and vibrance to the city. Now, most doorways were empty or held only a piece of its previous occupant dancing sadly in the breeze - its singed edge a black mark reminding all those who passed under it of the last few days.

The entire city smelt of burning and it felt like it singed the inside of Vangelis' nostrils, slipping into his head through his nose and burrowing into his brain. The air was still unclean from the fire and he felt himself blink more hurriedly against the invisible thickness that still clung. He had feeling that, by the time they reached the docks, his clothing would be laced with ash too fine for him to have seen attach itself.

In all this appearance, however - the destructive remnants and reminders of the fires - Vangelis felt only pride and strength. Because, among the darkened buildings and the sooty earth and the smell of burning wood and coal, Vangelis saw the people - his people - continuing about their lives. Some were cleaning at the walls, scrubbing the black until it faded to grey and then back to white. Some were fastening bundles of thatch in order to replace roofing. Vangelis saw an old man even knitting new rope for what could only be his grown grandson to bind the wood together. Two women, who were cleaning their homes side by side were gossiping and even laughing at whatever they were saying. As they reached the market, the busiest stall was the fabrics stall as wool was sold in bundles, as the women of the city took the opportunity to be excited for new colours and changes to be made to their homes, rather than lamenting at needed to replace their belongings... And all the while, as they passed by groups or even individuals of Colchians, they would stop and bow, smile and wave, as the royal group passed by.

Vangelis nodded back to those who caught his eye, his expression calm and serious but his heart pounding with pride.

This was Colchis. This was what it meant to be a Colchian. When met with adversity you did not weep or bemoan. You stood up, you kept going and - more importantly - you saw the need to keep going as an opportunity for something new, for something greater. That every time you were knocked to the ground only gave you the opportunity to get back up and reset your feet strong and harder this time, so that the next attack would not hit you so low. Survival and Strength. That was what it meant to be a Colchian.

By the time they reached the docks, it was mid-morning. The sun was fully in the sky and the early morning havoc of the ports had simmered down. While the Midas harbour was not yet back to fully functioning after the great storm, it was near enough on its way. The fire had barely impacted the port or boats as the wind had sent the flames up the mountain face instead of down it, keeping the wooden docks and ships in the harbour perfectly safe. For which Vangelis had thanked the Gods numerous times. There was no way that Midas would have been able to economically survive the entire loss of its seafarer trade. But no, they had been spared... and the mornings at the docks had continued to be loud, boisterous and chaotic events with seafood and supplies and boxes and crates and nets and tackle and men of all shapes and sizes ran about in an organised pattern that only they seemed to be able to navigate, creating an impression of pure chaos. Now, once half way to noon, the port had calmed down and the workers were in a tidier procession in how they handled they business which meant they were all able to look, stare and gawp when the royal carriage, led by the crown prince of the kingdom, arrived at the first port dock - before a large sailing vessel.

Bringing Windrunner to a halt, with the release of his legs and the staying of his hands on the bridle, Vangelis swung a leg free and raised a hand to stop one of the servants at the docks from opening the royal carriage. With a bow and a shamed face, the man stepped away.

Before allowing his sister and cousin to be released from the vehicle, Vangelis headed towards a man who stood waiting beside the gangplank of the ship before them. He was a tall gentleman and stocky in build and almost swayed a little on the spot as he spent more time on a roving, moving ship than on sturdy land. Even now, the captain only stood on the dock, with water slapping beneath as if afraid to actually have earth under his feet.

With a quick greeting, Vangelis was pleased to note that the man and ship organised for this trip by his steward was one he had sailed on before and he greeted Damonis with a friendly air and a touch less formality than he might have with another, stranger sailor.

"It is good to see you Captain Damonis." Vangelis greeted as the man bowed his formal respect. "I trust you envision as smooth voyage?"

After drawing himself back up to his full height, the captain nodded and touched his forelock as he spoke. "I absolutely do, Your Highness." He assured. "The storms have passed in this area and the entire journey should be smooth and speedy."

With a nod and a few words of familiarity and assurance from both men, Vangelis then bid the man and excusion so that he could get back to settling and readying the ship and then turned back towards the royal carriage. Nodding the servant who he had dissuaded before, the man stepped forwards to open the carriage and Vangelis was there beside the open portal to then produce a hand for first one and then the other lady to take and help herself to the ground with. Euphemia was the last to then take his aid. With a quick glance to his Commander and a nod of his head in the appropriate directly, Vangelis made Nike's orders clear without a spoken word: she was to supervise the loading of their belongings onto the ship and ensure that they were secured correctly in the hold while he remained with his sister and cousin and made certain that they were secured properly in their chambers...

Giving his sister and her counterparts a moment to look and stare at the vessel - for it large, impressive and creaked above them like an awe-inspiring construct - Vangelis hovered for a moment, knowing that this would be his sister's first time on a ship. Imeeya had been to sea several times in order to travel to the capital from her own island of Dolomesa. Though it would likely be her first time on one for so long a time at once. The journey between any of the Kirakles Islands was little more than a day no matter which islands you were sailing between. This voyage would be over the course of at least two weeks. It was a very different sort of experience.

When he felt that Athanasia had digested the sights, sounds and smells (the ports had a very distinctive smell of damp wood, fish and salt that was an assault on the senses if one hadn't visited the place regularly), Vangelis hurried the three women up the gangplank (he had to wait while they held the fabric of their chitons out of the way) and onto the main deck of the ship. The sailors and men moved around the place quickly and efficiently, creating a flurry that was unsettling when one wasn't used to being on a ship and knowing how sailors worked. Vangelis was a large man - both tall and broad - and therefore the men around him tended to alter their paths to avoid even the chance of brushing against him or causing him to dart out of the way. He just stood and they worked around him. The same was true for Asia and Imeeya. As they were dressed as the ladies of station that they were, the common born seamen were hesitant to get too close, as if the glow of their light chiton created an aura the men could not breach. The same could not be said for Euphemia and for Nike when she appeared, instructing men with boxes and chests. The men hurried about, uncaring of whether they got too close for comfort to the little servant girl who trailed behind Asia and Vangelis reached out quickly to take a whole of Euphie's upper arm. Drawing her closed to her mistress, he nodded and murmured to her -

"Stand closer to Asia and you won't be touched." He told her with confidence, hoping it was of comfort.

He then pointed the women towards the back doorway that led to the lower decks. He had already established with the captain where the lot of them would be sleeping so he was comfortable making the introductions between bed and occupant himself, allowing the captain to continue preparing the ship for an immediate departure.

Leaving Nike on the main deck and directing slaves and luggage - he would show her where she was to stay later - Vangelis escorted the three girls down a thin flight of stairs that were narrower than his shoulders were broad - he had to turn slightly and duck his head in order to get down them - and then encouraged them - as he stood behind Imeeya who walked behind Euphemia and she behind Asia - down a short corridor and into a room on the far right. This chamber held two cots - one against each wall of the ship - and a set of bedding laid out on the floor for Euphie. While the accommodations were limited on a ship, the preparation and hospitality for a royal group was not and while the bed structures were sparse and low in number, the blankets, sheets and feather cushions that the beds were constructed from were high quality. While it might be unusual for a servant of a princess to sleep on the floor, for example, Vangelis knew she would be plenty comfy. Nike - more often than not - as a man, ended up sleeping on the top deck with the sailors. This time would have been the same, given that only two personal cabins were available below deck, but Vangelis had assured the captain that his head bodyguard could stay in the same chamber as he, if Nike wanted. Alternatively, she could sleep on the top deck again. The two of them had no qualms at this point regarding their different genders and it would be little different than when they had (on occasion) been forced to share a tent while away at war. There was little embarrassment between the two of them now and Vangelis had no qualms about her sleeping in the same chambers as he.

"Don't leave this room until you hear the crew and everyone go quiet." Vangelis instructed the girls. "We'll be casting off in a minute and after that it involves a lot of work and a lot of chaos getting the ship out to sea. You'll be in the way of that if you go up too soon." He struck his sister with a look that said he wasn't playing around. "After we're quiet on the top deck and the ship stops moving so much - that's a sign that we're in the open sea and you'll be able to come out on deck." He gestured to the cots. "I recommend laying down while we ship out - it feels less like the ship is moving if you aren't on your feet. You can come up and request any personal things you'll need for the trip out of your luggage from Nike when it’s safe to come up to the top deck."

And with that, Vangelis left the three women to their own devices, shutting the door of the chamber on them to prove his point of them not sneaking above board before the crew had done their duties and gotten them cleaning out onto the Aegean.

Taking the opportunity to dump his own bag - the small parcel of belongings he still had over his shoulder - in his own chambers just next to the girls', Vangelis then jogged quickly in a hunched position back up onto the deck where he was on board just in time to hear the captain give out a called instruction to weigh anchor.

Immediately the men rushed in a frenzy to ensure that everything was fastened, tightened and ready for shipping out, while several sailors rushed to a central spoked wheel and started to push the mechanism clockwise, the clanging of chains able to be heard as Damonis' instructions were met with precision and efficiency.

Noting Nike's presence over to one side where she stood with arms folded and no longer busy about her task, Vangelis knew that everything must have therefore been stored properly and Nike was now just doing her best to appear solid as a rock when he knew she was uncomfortable on boats. Moving to stand beside her, Vangelis set up a similar position to her right as they both stayed out of the way of the sailors performing their duties.

As the sail was unfurled and the ship started to move - incredibly slowly at first but gaining speed quickly - Vangelis nudged at the back of Nike's shoulder to show her he was moving and then hurry up the short steps to the back helm of the vessel where the captain stood behind his helmsman, hands clasped in the small of his back and feet braced apart. He nodded politely to the approach of the crown prince but kept his attention on his men and how they were setting about their jobs - at which Vangelis felt zero offense and all the respect in the world. He would far rather that the man was focused on his responsibilities as captain of the ship, than adhere to social etiquette and have them all drown.

Taking up a stance behind the captain where he would cause no trouble or be in no-one's way, Vangelis simply watched from the back of the craft as the ship was steered right, out and around the main outcropping that provided the port with some shelter, through a natural gate that the rocks had constructed from either side and then out into the Aegean.

When travelling to Athenia it was needed that you passed several of the Kirakles Isles to your right and, as such, the view was beautiful but ghastly dangerous across the first morn of your journey.

When heading for Taengea, however? There were no such outcroppings. No such Isles to navigate around. It was, in that direction at least, simply open water as far as the eye could see. And as soon as the vessel passed far enough into that sea, the expanse of blue filled the peripheral as well.

It was almost frightening how, within just a few hours, the ship passed from being amongst the mountains of Colchis and into nothing but open blue on nearly all sides - only the dark and craggy shapes of the Kirakles mountains could be seen to the north behind them. The deep aquamarine of the glistening sea and the bright pale blue of the sky met in a razor straight line across the horizon - a visage that a man could lose himself in for hours without realising it. In another two weeks that line would be broken by the land mass that was the island of Serenn - the kingdom of Taengea. But it would only appear just a day before they arrived - Taengea was flat and the land would not impede on the view until they were less than a day's journey from their port. And yet Colchis would not full disappear from their view for several days into their voyage. Vangelis had always liked that strange effect. That his kingdom shone stronger and broke through the curtain of sky and sea faster and for longer than any of the Grecian realms.

As the ship gained a decent speed - the wind the only clue of its process as the view never changed - and the men went from chaotic efficient to calm and languid, Vangelis took a steading breath - a lungful of the salty, sea air. Its coolness singed at his lungs after the heat that still resided in Midas and he felt a pang of guilt that he had not stayed longer to secure and heal the city. But he had responsibilities elsewhere... and he knew his brothers would look after Colchis. After all... the life of the kingdom beat as strongly in their blood as it did in his own...

Silent as she always was while on duty, Nike remained like a shadow to the royal subject she guarded as they moved towards the carriages prepared for them. Grabbing the gray steed that was brought forth together with the prince's own, the woman vaulted on the back of the steady steed with a practiced grace of one who had done the same for many years, her knees around the middle as she guided the horse to stand by the Kotas carriage - just in time to be out of the way as the carriage bearing the crest of the House Drakos made its way to the courtyard.

The Lady Imeeya was one Nike rarely had contact with - her duty was to the Kotas family, and they were perhaps the only one Nike had much contact with. Knowing her place, she rarely sought out the contact of the other noble and royal houses. While she held authority and carried herself as such in the battlefield, back here in Midas, a place where Nike had no hold nor any say - it was there where she backed off. She may have her words, was intelligent both in her role as strategist and as one who secured the crown prince's safety, and was definitely one whose character was forged in fire and sharpened with steel, yet she held her tongue in the face of nobility and royalty.

Feeling the gray gelding beneath her shift restlessly, Nike moved deftly to control the equine, stroking its neck - a creature that the commander has had to work with multiple times before, she was adept in her handling of horses, and was no stranger to them.

Heeding Vangelis's turn of head - for really, by now she could tell what he wanted and what was necessary for any situation be it in or out of the battlefield - Nike directed the steed to the back of the procession. One hand holding the reins, the other was firmly on the hilt of her longsword as they rode down the streets of Midas, her eyes constantly alert. They took in all that changed - but at the same time they also took in the familiar sights of Midas, as she always did before they left on a journey. While not Colchian by birth, Nike had grew into the Colchian lifestyle, so much so that she would do what she could for the city - just as how she had done during the fire. Stings and scrapes from the disastrous incidents still littered her body, for Nike had flung herself into the efforts of stalling the fire - but it was for a cause she would always find worthy.

Having called Colchis her home, she now knew every nook and cranny from purely exploring and studying the layout... she couldn't be more Colchian if she tried at this point. The soot and ash that greeted them as they went lower tugged at Nike's heart, and she wished she could stay behind to watch over the rebuilding efforts - yet with the recent incidents in Taengea, the woman was not agreeable yet to allow Vangelis out of her sights, not when she had last heard the Creed to still be lingering in the Vasiliadon outskirts. So she could only watch with a sad heart to the slow rebuilding to what used to be a vibrant area of markets, vendors and laughter.

The procession drew on, her men flanking out the carriages, and as they drew closer to the sea, the salty tang of air greeting her nose, a part of Nike's chest tightened - she still held no love for the large expanse of water that separated the kingdoms. No amount of swim lessons Vangelis give would ever diminish that fear.

The boisterous docked salved a balm over the sore heart which had tried to reach out to the injured lower levels of Midas - she was thankful that the port which had just managed to recover from the Boreas storm, was unaffected by a fire. The smells - that, she was used to by then. Having came and went by the docks one too many times, Nike barely flinched, her face calm and serene as usual as she brought up the rear of the royal procession towards a large sailing vessal of much higher import then the regular, smaller ones - it was obvious which one the royal family was taking.

Pulling her steed in slowly, she slipped down gracefully as a feline, landing on her heavily booted feet, all whilst watching as the two ladies were allowed out from the carriage. With a flick of her wrists, Nike sent her men to surround the women - the docks were filled with questionable characters, none of which she saw fit to be near the young Princess, at least not in Nike's overprotective eyes.

Only once she ensured there were enough eyes watching the ladies, did she look up to meet her general's eyes, easy enough for her to note her next duties - unload their stuff on to the ship bar none - they needed everything they had packed... and Nike once again wondered just how many boxes and clothes a lady could need at court as she instructed her men slaving over the carrying of the various amounts of boxes that were each locked and properly stowed away, secured by leather straps and buckles.

She stood as long as she could on the mainland - but at some point, to ensure everything was properly stowed, one would have to get on. So when everything ahd been taken off the carriages the Commander eventually heaved a quiet, resigned sigh to herself, and headed up te gangplank, steadying herself on the edges as she made her way to the the boxes. Checking each strap herself personally to ensure all was secured, as well as to ensure she knew where everything was so she had easy access to them when someone wanted something, only then did she let her gaze fall across the rest of the ship bustling as they got ready to set sail. Legs opened wide to maintain her center of gravity, Nike crossed her arms across her chest, a hard line set in her jaw - it was her regular look when she was overseeing work to be done, but on a ship, it also meant Nike could hide just how green she felt being on the ship, by appearing gruff and unaffected.

Feeling the vessel shift beneath them as the anchors were raised, only when she heard and felt the familiar presence of her general, did Nike look up, yet said nothing. Vangelis's presence always lent her comfort - it was one of familiar silence that settled over the two of them like a shroud as they stood side by side, a picture probably seen by all of their men before by now as the rest of the sailors finished up their duties before setting sail.

Once the ship lurched into movement, the nudge on her shoulder by Vangelis shifted Nike out of her haze of keeping herself focused so she did not allow her discomfort to show. Turning her gaze, the Commander automatically fell in step beind him as he moved up to the helm, and then as he had before, she too fell in position next to him where he now took up position behind the captain. Picking up speed, she felt the wind whipping her slightly longer, chestnut locks, tossed out of place. Watching the scenery changed, a part of her wondered how would it be back in Taengea after the events of the royal family - and would she be as lucky this time, being back in her home kingdom? She had left for very specific reasons - she had no wish for her old life to come knocking, and Nike worked very hard to avoid that.

Sneaking a gaze sideways as the ship passed into the open sea of the Aegean, a small smile tugged a side of her lips upwards as she observed him taking in a lungful of salty sea air - it was a habit Nike had seen in him often, almost familiar as it was comforting. Her shoulders relaxed a tad, as she nudged at his shoulder as he had hers earlier, the smile still on her lips as her gaze looked out at the sea. "First watch, tonight?" she asked, something they tended to do while on ships. Many a conversation had been shared between general and commander as they shared watches. While watches were less important on ships, it was also necessary to watch change in waves and weather, and it had been a while since the last. The female commander had been antsy ever since they had returned to Midas and been landlocked due to Vangelis's injury. They had shared time training since then - Nike took her role to ensure Vangelis was back in fighting form very seriously, yet rare words had been exchanged between the two from his duties as crown prince, and she was curious as to how her best friend was doing.