It had been a month. How had that happened? It seemed like only yesterday that the men were leaving to go to war. Imeeya had not been able to bring herself to see them off. To have done that would have been to admit that they were leaving. This way, it felt like this whole war thing wasn’t entirely real. How had it been a month? That also meant it had been a month since that evening with Lord Silanos where she had unexpectedly kissed him. It didn’t seem possible that that man was off in Egypt either. She had only gotten a letter of reply from him just the other day.

To admit that these men needed to be prayed for was to admit to herself that all of this was actually happening and that had been something she had been warring with all morning. Imeeya had brought some lightweight pottery bowls, some flowers, and several small candles carefully wrapped in cloth to protect them during her transport. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. The truth was, she didn’t need anyone to catch the number of candles she had chosen to bring, especially not her mother. She had a candle each for her uncle, the king, and her cousins who were off at war. She also had one candle for Lord Silanos of Valaoritis.

The choice to bring something for him had been something that she had agonized over. On one hand, he didn’t deserve any of her well wishes. He had been nothing but rude to her any time she had seen him in person. Except for the time he had made sure she got home safely...and the time he tried to protect her when they thought they were being attacked...and that last letter he sent…. So she had decided that she needed to bring a candle for him, in case she thought he was deserving of it. The worst thing that could happen was that she decided not to light it.

When Imeeya reached the shore she knelt in the sand and spread out what she had brought in front of her, trying to figure out how to best arrange things. She set each bowl out and started arranging the flowers. One for her Uncle Tython, one for Vangelis, one for Yiannis, one for Silas and one… It was too many. To see it all laid out here, how many might not come back. She had never had that much luck with family returning from war, first her father, and then her uncle had both been lost at war when she was young. If she never saw them again...if she didn’t have a chance to confront Sil for what he had done…

It was all too much. She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes but she wasn’t going to cry now. Not in front of everyone. Imeeya started arranging the flowers into the bowls with some vigor. Something to take her mind off what was going on. She thrust a few flowers into the first bowl, barely considering the arrangement, then picked it up and slammed it down next to her to turn to the next one.

She heard the crack from the pottery before she fully processed what it was. Crap. She had only brought enough bowls to have one for everyone. And now she would be one short. There had to be someone selling bowls at this event. Then it occurred to her, how was she going to explain that she needed another bowl? She still had enough for her uncle and cousins, after all. What if someone noticed that she needed another one. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about Sil, she certainly didn’t want other people gossiping about it. Or what if they thought it was for that blasted pirate that everyone kept talking about? No, she supposed he’d just have to go without. That didn’t seem right either. She needed him to come back from Egypt. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

Careful thought had been put into her preparations for the day, knowing the importance of the true task at hand and the cautious navigation of appearances at the same time. Every moment of her day would be watched and scrutinized by countless eyes and minds.

Thea's life had been entirely consumed by rumors, ever since she took her first steps into womanhood, only a few months after Nethis. Words could not poison one who was born of serpent's venom, just as those same words did nothing to weather away the Kotas stone. Not only through practice but through their status as well, Thea and the Kotas held themselves above the rumors...for the most part.

Nothing had been spoken of in official terms before Vangelis' departure on the Egypt-bound ships, leading countless men either to glory or death. No betrothals had been announced, no words even so much spoken as to her condition outside of the closest circle of Kotas.

It did not matter, in the end, that the rumors were in fact true. Every man and woman of decent noble birth knew better than to dignify the secondhand whispering and murmurings of rumor with a response, unless they were directly asked about the truth of the matter. Princess Athanasia had earned Thea's respect by being so direct as to approach and speak with her on it. Yes, she was certain the girl knew from conversations with her family, but it still mattered to her - the principle of the matter.

Despite taking such a liking to at least one member of her royal hosts, Thea kept herself separated to a certain extent from their party. Ever wary, Thea knew that Zanon would keep Evras close to her and all but snarl at her to stay away - like a bear defending all creatures in its den. The Queen would absolutely not tolerate Thea being anywhere in her vicinity, she was sure, and so she wisely kept her distance.

It was perhaps, even more telling, that she kept herself distant from Nethis and Dysius, doing her best to keep her eyes from even scanning for them in the crowd.

It was not difficult to find Thea, however, as she was tailed by a Kotas guard and a handmaiden that she had not bothered to learn the name of yet. The young, plain woman carried the vessels, candles, and flowers on a silver serving tray.

Three bowls were fired, painted, and glazed for the event. On a field of bright red were stark and sharp black paintings of Colchian ships arriving, with the men on board, the their eyes and swords raised to @ares in victory, gleaming stark white against the red. Around the edges of two were royals laurels, the leaves of one larger than that of another - a King and a Crown Prince.

The last could have been mistaken for the same, except upon closer inspection, it was a serpent, fully encircling the rim of the bowl and creating an endless circle with its body. Upon an even closer look, two red gemstones had been pressed into the eyes and glazed over as well - jewels from the Colchian mines of the deepest, darkest Thanasi red to be found.

All too fitting and extravagant for the Thanasi son far from home.

Thea had secured the flowers from the Kotas garden, aching for those more familiar from the gardens in her family home. Still, the gods would understand her restrictions, she hoped.

Her presence flanked by the Kotas guard and handmaiden managed to part the crowds, the whispers around her hardly counting as such. If one spoke too long, Thea pointedly made eyecontact with them, locking gazes with them for a time until embarrassment or fear stuttered their tongues to a stop. She was still, after all, a Thanasi Witch in their eyes, regardless of the scandal of her current position. Even if an unblinking gaze was the only action that gave her any sense of control in her life at the moment, she would take it.

Even as she made her way through the sparse crowd, Thea still had to wait to approach the area closest to the shore, where the softest waves lapped against the time-weathered rocks.

Colchians were knelt down in their prayers, and Thea would never interrupt such a communion with the gods. After all, the importance of their prayers would match the importance of her own, when her time came.

As she waited, Thea turned to the tray of her offerings and began to assemble each bowl with careful hands, aware of the way she was watched by anyone near enough to recognize her. Wearing black was not unusual for a Thanasi, but those with the knowledge and observation would note that Thea had shed her signature silver pieces for ornamental gold along her wrists, shoulders, and even laced through the braids in her hair - understated, but present.

As she arranged the candles in their appropriate bowls - black and silver for the brother she neglected, gold and white for the King that once used to share slight smiles and quiet jests with her once upon a time, and crimson red for Vangelis, the man both closest to her and furthest away in so many ways - her attention was drawn to the figure approaching, her expression shifting only in the slight lift of her brows before moving to curtsey as she greeted, "Princess Tythra."

Adelpha had come as the others had. The best things about crowds were that it was easy to get lost in them. Even while standing on the shoreline as opposed to the docks, she felt as unnoticed as any number of pebbles on the beach. And that was perfect.

The docks seemed to be reserved for only the upper class and the last thing that she wanted to be was up there with them. From Celine she had learned that nobles were dangerous and ruthless killers. And from Silanos she had learned that they were all self centered and self serving. Both made her glad to be commonborn. To her commonborn were happier people without too much spare time on their hands. No doubt it was boredom that made them come up with such vile plots and schemes to use people for their own ends.

And then there was war. Adelpha hated war. And not only because her Father tried desperately to turn his only child into a soldier, but because she thought it was stupid! And a waste! Fighting in defence was one thing, but charging off into another's lands to kill their people to make one point or another was just wrong. There were other ways to settle disputes, but too many people used others like pawns in their deadly contests of power.

Instead of sticking with becoming an archer, Adelpha kept to a shared passion that she had with her Mother; and that was art. Why try to pursue pain and suffering when one could pursue beauty and form? Her paintings had only increased in quality and style, giving her more of an income as she sold them at the markets. Now however she sought to try her hand at sculpting. Only with clay to start. It was just difficult to have patient enough models that didn't mind her running her hands all over them so that she could use her muscle memory on the clay. And it wasn't as though she could pay much either.

But back to the matter at hand...

Adelpha set down a small wooden bowl onto the water, nudging it away from the shore. Within it lay a lit candle held in place with a mosaic of small shells and pockets of different coloured sand. In her mind it was beautiful and fitting for her prayer to @apollo . "Please help mankind to lose their lust for war and instead celebrate and appreciate their differences through the various arts, poetry and music. And then all can be home with their families. The countries would be a much better place and everyone would be happier." That was how she saw it anyways. Then she'd be able to visit her parents more often instead of staying in her little house on the beach most of the time.

If she was lucky, her prayers would be answered. That is unless @ares chose to punish her instead for not heeding her Father's wishes.

Athanasia wished she could have gone with her brothers to war. She was probably a better archer than some of the women in the army. Fighting would have been much better than waiting endlessly for news and scanning the horizon for returning ships. It was too soon for the latter, she knew. It was possible that the men had not yet engaged in battle. She tried to be optimistic. They would be victorious. The gods would be with them. But there would be a cost measured in lives.

Every morning she went to the temple of Ares to pray for her father, her brothers, and the men in Colchis who fought for their kingdom. It was all she could do, really, and she hoped that it would be enough. The young princess would pray at the docks today too. It had been a month now since the ships had sailed, a month that had crawled by so slowly that every second felt like an eternity.

The manor was so silent now with her father and three of her brothers gone. Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells, afraid to express their fears. The unknown was a gaping hole churning with possibilities that were good, bad, and everything in between, therefore frightening in its obscurity. The only time that Athanasia could calm her thoughts was when she was practicing archery, hunting, or gallivanting in the lower levels of the city in disguise.

Leaving the carriage that had brought her to the docks, the princess headed to the shoreline, surrounded by guards and followed by servants carrying bowls, brightly colored flowers, and candles. Athanasia had supervised the painting of the bowls herself. The base color was Kotas red and contained scenes of victory painted in silver. Four of them featured royal laurels for her father and brothers that were painted in gold.

The others represented their men, and one in particular was for Mihail of Thanasi, whom she considered her friend. Nothing distinguished that one except for the thoughts that went with it. Her family would never approve of her singling out a Thanasi in her prayers. Athanasia was forbidden to speak to them except for Thea, who now resided with the royal family.

Spotting Imeeya and the sister of the Master Informer up ahead, she approached them with a subdued smile. “May I join you?” she asked.

If Thea seemed guarded, it was for good reason. Expected, even. A serpent in the bear's den. That no superstitious soul had lobbed anything in her direction or hissed the word 'witch' beneath their breath was merely a testament to the rapture of the moment - their love for family and friends outweighed their hatred for the Thanasi name.

Funny how it took a war to give her a moment of relief.

So, as Princess Tythra approached and offered to share her prayers for Mihail, it was entirely logical for Thea to feel apprehension. It did not show, though, as Thea returned the ever-pleasant courtier's smile. Never to warm nor considered entirely cold, simply expected.

Before responding, her eyes flicked to the crowd around them, noting eyes noble and common that eyed the situation. Would they talk of this at the next session of court or in their brothels and taverns? What would be the story they would tell? She could hear it now - the witch taking hold of the King's sister in a glance, or perhaps, the mother of dragons holding control of the Thanasi snake by the throat or the tail? Oh, the stories they would tell...

But, beyond those whispers and Thea's own apprehension, the promise of words to protect one of the few people in this life that Thea truly cared for - to bend the ear of the gods on Mihail's behalf, to keep his name in their minds as they chose who would live and who would die - it overcame both.

"Please do," Thea accepted, exhaled on a breath of slight relief. At this point, she had seen no other members of her family, nor any familiar faces from their provinces on the shores, "It offers me such comfort to know that my voice is not the only one heard on his behalf. I miss him so."

As they began to inch closer to the waterline, awaiting others to set their candles out, Thea did not want to leave them lingering in silence too long.

"It has been a generation or more since any of our close kindred has taken the shield. It is not what we are known for," Thea admitted, knowing it was common knowledge among the nobility and beyond that the Thanasi were more than happy to keep their martial powers close at home in their slave-heavy provinces as opposed to joining many of the Kotas forces in the defensive wars in the North. Additionally, with a line of rather 'weakly' perceived men not only in their generation but the one before - preferring politics and intellect over physical prowess, with which they were decidedly not blessed - it was an easy picture to paint.

All in all, proving the point further the odds that Mihail would face across the seas, in the arid sands, far from home and the few who cared for his well-being when they rose with the sun each day.

Like Thea.


Eyes turning to the prepared bowls and candles, taking King Tython's and Vangelis' in her own hands, leaving Mihail's on the tray for Tythra, Thea offered the woman another glance to ensure she would stand true to her word, carrying her brother's fate in her hands, before stepping to the waterline.

The fabric of her dress immediately soaked up the seawater, lapping cold against her ankles as she knelt down, allowing another to light the candles before her, before setting the first two bowls in the water.

Quietly, she murmured her prayers between plush, rose lips.

"Zeus, God of Kings and King of Gods, shield our King and sovereign....Poseidon, God of the Seas, protect our vessels there and back again...@hades, God of Death, guide for those you take into your care...Hera, our Motherly Queen, comfort our hearts at home...@apollo, God of Light, heal their wounds and light their hearts...@ares, God of War, give them courage of the blood...@athena, Goddess of Wisdom, sharpen their eyes and minds...Hephaestus, God of Fire, strong be the metal you have forged...Dionysus, God of Joy, allow us the bounty that we may rejoice their return...Artemis, blessed huntress...."

Thea took a brief moment to swallow, now reaching the two goddesses which she knew she had spoken with the least over the years. She imagined their suspicious eyes upon her - how could she ask anything of them? Yet, for the souls in her hands, she asked. If only for Mihail and the bow he held in his hands, his only defense.

"Give them aim that is steady and true....Aphrodite...Goddess of Love...keep all of our hearts strong through this time..."

After a quiet moment, she swallowed again and taking a deep breath. Thea often wondered to what extent the gods heard mortals. Did they wager on the sincerity of each prayer? Did they laugh at those who came begging in times of need? Thea had been at fault for showing favorites over the years, and it was a fear that perhaps the gods she asked for guidance from now sneered at her, seeing it only as lip service.

For her own blessings and curses in this life, she did not worry. But, for Mihail...she hoped they would hear her on his behalf.

A moment too long had passed as she watched the crimson and white candles join the flames at sea, before she turned her eyes to Lady Tythra, her hand reaching for her brother's bowl.

As Mihail’s candle was set out to sea, Thea felt an ache in her heart, and guilt for not having seen him off on that day at the docks. Every circumstance had become well and truly fucked, it seemed. The Thanasi each had their own strain of self-centered thinking, and often found the faults in it all too late. What was the last thing she had even said to Mihail before that day? Gods, she could not remember…

These thoughts plagued her as she accepted Princess Tythra’s words and assistance in rising from her kneeling position at the shoreline. Her eyes lingered on the Princess’ face, and despite every wish and desire to find some sort of false lip service toward her family or her brother, the words seemed to ring true. And if her words and intentions were true before the gods...

The unfamiliar sting around the rim of her eyes had her glancing away and blinking rapidly in a rather pitiful attempt at maintaining composure. Her walls needed to remain strong and fortified, no weakness or vulnerability could be allowed at this point, not with so many eyes on her, watching or even waiting for her downfall…

Yet, as she had seen with Evras, the presence of a child within could sometimes lead to reactions that were unusual or out of character - anger, irritability...tears…

Feigning an attempt to brush an invisible curl or hair away from her forehead, Thea deftly used that same hand to brush at her eye as well, hopefully erasing any evidence of unwanted emotion there, and then bringing the back of that same hand to her lips and clearing her throat.

“Your words bring me such comfort,” Thea admitted softly, before Tythra continued with her words of wisdom, particularly about the changes she could see in those she loved as they returned from war. Mihail, she knew, would be changed by this - he already had changed so much in the weeks before they left, contending with mortality and his place in this world. Not to mention the changes of dynamic within their household.

Then, there was Vangelis.

There was the slightest stiffening of her back as her guard began to rebuild itself. Everyone within the Kotas Estate seemed to share their opinion of the situation as a whole, but for some reason, the way Tythra spoke of it did not seem so...vitriolic. Likely she had hers, of course, but it did not seem as if it were pulling the past into the present, but instead, taking what existed in the present and using it to look toward the future.

It was...refreshing.

“I have already seen such change in Mihail, even before his departure, yet Vangelis...” Thea said, her words cautious and measured, “..and I have known each other for a long time, through his many departures and returns. There have always been changes, but...in the same way a stone is carved into sculpture. It seems to clarify him each return...as I trust it will again.”

It was an admission of what Evras and Zanon knew, at least, though without a number of years attached. Why Thea admitted such things, she did not know. A sentimental moment, perhaps? A modicum of trust based on the kindness Tythra chose to show for her family, for Mihail? Misguided, perhaps, but it was said. And it was true in her eyes.

Motion and the rising din of the crowd at the shoreline captured her attention, breaking the moment as she lifted her hands to look over the shimmering water...that seemed to bulge towards them.

“What is that?” Thea murmured quietly, before fear gripped her and her eyes widened, hands finding their way to Princess Tythra’s forearm and hands.

“What is that???” she repeated, as instinct pulled her further from the shoreline, with the screams and frantic shouts inciting chaos as the first whale beached itself away from them...and the other heading towards them.

The wave of water preceding the whale crashed about her ankles and calves as the slate grey skin of the whale emerged, its mouth bared wide as if in a silent scream. A mist emerged from it, inciting a soft scream from Thea as she began to scramble away from the shoreline as another massive beast beached itself.

Every fear flashed through Thea’s mind as she saw the wreckage of candles and bowls against the rocky shore, and her heart sank. Her lips parted and eyes began to glisten with the promise of tears…

Was this in response to what she just said? Had the gods heard her, heard her hubris? Were they angry at her for having not prayed to them all so diligently?

Fear gripped her as she looked about the crowd, some of the startled eyes looking from the whales to one another…..to her. Oh, she had seen that look before. In Oreborea when the woman was found dead and mauled...whenever her sister’s passed through the streets after Zanon and Evras were wed and witchcraft was whispered at every turn…

It did not look good, with her having just prayed and set her candles on the water...only for sea beasts to rise up and shatter all pleas to the gods. They would want answers...they would want someone to blame…

And she was a Thanasi.

Her blood ran cold and her face drained of all flush of color at the thought, her hands releasing their hold of Princess Tythra as her breath began to shorten and she backed away, eyes seeking an escape.

“I...I must go…”

But where?