Axum, Kingdom of Axum, Green Sahara1248 AD, 2 years ago
The doors opened with a thunderous roar as Zakaraya entered into the throne room. The swordsman kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with the figure reclining lazily upon his throne, a man garbed in a blue tunic over white robes, holding a scepter in his hand and a white turban over his head, with long hair pulled back, keeping eyes focused on the warrior walking up to the Emperor. Zakaraya dropped to his knees, falling completely forward to the seated monarch, prostrating entirely before the man.
"Rise, oh Lion of Judah," spoke the Emperor in a deep, booming voice, as Zakaraya rose to his feet, bowing to him and speaking.
"My lord, Emmanuel, I have come before you to discuss the taking of Israel. I ask of you that we begin the invasion of Arabia immediately. I believe it is in our best interests to take cities like Mecca to sustain our armies. These Arab cities have no allies except each other, taking them will allow our armies to march through the desert with minimal exhaustion before we invade the Levant. I believe we are ready to attack, but I require the approval of the Messiah before I may make such a decision."
Zakaraya dropped to his knee once again, with Emmanuel simply standing up, stroking his beard, and letting out a chuckle.
"Have you forgotten the revelation, Zakaraya?" Emmanual probed, prompting Zakaraya to groan under his breath. "I have been informed of the time to take action against the false king who resides in Jerusalem. I have been made aware that the barriers that Alexander rose will fall and of the coming of the hordes of Gog in Europe and Magog in Asia. They will swarm upon the land, and when they enter into Persia and Vandalia and those lands fall, I will be given dominion over them to turn against the false king." Zakaraya said nothing, simply nodding.
"I remember, Lord, however, I believe that taking Arabia up to Mecca will be of strategic advantage to our soldiers. We can prevent any needless exhaustion the ma-"
The robed figure beside Emmanuel raised his hand, cutting off Zakaraya's speech. "The Messiah has spoken, the invasion will be carried out when the divine hordes have taken down Persia and Vandalia. We need not to invest precious resources in preemptive invasions."
Zakaraya eyed the figure, "In all respect, Malachi, our direct route of assault will be through Arabia. Unless you intend a direct invasion of Egypt, oh High Priest."
Malachi eyed Zakaraya. "Lion of Judah, you may have command over our armies, but remember that I have command over the food and the pay that keeps your men loyal to you. You'd do best to keep my words in your head when you make your decisions."
Emmanuel turned to face his subjects, "Enough banter, men. You are my right and my left hands, so you would both do well to remember it, that you are extensions of myself. I will not have my hands clawing at themselves."
Zakaraya and Malachi stared at each other, before conceding and returning to their more docile states. However, Emmanuel pointed at Zakaraya, "Zakaraya, before you depart, I will inform you of a final task for which I have need for you."
"Yes, my lord," Zakaraya spoke, dropping to his knee once more.
"In Egypt, there is a man, one of great power, who poses a threat to us all. He is the spawn of my enemies, a dark sorcerer who threatens our entry into the Temple of Jerusalem. He wields a sword like a key, which gives him power not unlike our own. The establishment of my Kingdom and your Judgeship over this world is threatened to be thwarted by his presence. And so, oh Lion of Judah, I am tasking you to travel to Egypt to slay him before he becomes a threat to us."
"And how Will I know he is there?" Zakaraya asked.
Emmanuel smiled. "You will be able to sense his energy. It will radiate like ours.
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Constantinople, Byzantine Empire, RenovationThe woman clung to her hat as the child at her side tugged at her skirt with increasing intensity. She struggled a bit to keep her balance, a large loaf of old bread in one arm as she shuffled her feet down the worn old steps that made their way to the muddy banks. The little boy pointed excitedly at a collection of ducks, some sleeping on the muddy shore while another group had taken to the water, preening and floating gently on the surface. When the two had reached the water, the small boy held out his hands, to which his mother obliged, breaking off a piece of bread, that the small boy quickly tore into pieces and threw into the water, watching with joy as the birds swam over, biting and gobbling down the bread greedily. The boy motioned for his mother to hand him another chunk of bread, and repeating the same process, let out a small noise of happiness as the birds continued to eat the provisions he had provided for them. The woman was watching her son intently, however, she took note of something out of the ordinary going on in the distance. At first, it seemed to be nothing that unusual, a slight change in the water's patterning, a shimmer but nothing too out of the ordinary. She smiled and called for the boy, pointing in the direction of the anomaly, believing it to be fish.
"Fish! Can we feed the fish? They're hungry too!"
The woman thought for a second, "I don't know if they'll eat bread, but there will be plenty left for the ducks to try."
The small boy cheered, running over to the shimmering spot, and quickly tossing a piece of bread into the water, which proceeded to bob untouched at the surface. The child stared at it intently for a bit, before turning to his mother in distress.
"The fish won't eat it, mama."
The woman sat at the side of her child, "They might not be sure if it's safe to eat yet. Give them some time."
The boy fixated on the bobbing bread, becoming soggy and discolored as the water of the canal seeped into it. The boy's hands twitched and shook with impatience as he turned again to cry to his mother. "They won't take it, mama. Maybe they don't like it."
The woman soothed her son, shooshing his cries as she tousled his hair. It was at that moment that she took notice of the water becoming more violent and displaced. She pointed this out, with the boy cheering at the sight. However, the cheers turned to screams of fear as a figure emerged from the water, a human hand grabbing at the muddy banks, pulling itself out of the water, pushing against the waterlogged ground, the ducks and sea birds taking flight as the man stood himself on two legs, scanning the area, as the woman held her child against her and kept her eyes on this strange figure. The man placed the sword he held in the scabbard at his side, locking eyes with the woman at the bank. They kept their eyes locked on each other for some time, before the woman spoke up, questioning who he was.
That language, the swordsman thought, Greek, the language of the Egyptians.
The man pointed at her, uttering a phrase in broken Greek. "Aigyptos..."
The woman stared in confusion at the man. The way he said it was so archaic, she barely comprehended the word he spoke. "E...Egypt?" she stammered out. "What about Egypt?"
"We are...Egypt?" The swordsman spoke, eying her interrogatively.
The woman shook her head, "No, no. This is Greece. You're in Constantinople."
The swordsman's eyes stayed in their questioning state, the woman's face beginning to furrow as she watched him some more.
"Not Nile...Not Egypt?"
"No, that's the Bosphorus. Why would you think we're in Egypt?" The woman asked aggressively, though the expression on the Swordsman's face never changed, his eyes only glazed over more as the names were processed in his head.
"Thank you," The swordsman spoke out, walking past the mother and child, the woman still grasping tightly to her crying child, as she watched the strange figure step off into the distance.
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The Swordsman walked up the hill, away from the park, until he made his way to some sort of road. He eyed the structure. It was like a river of stone, dark, darker than the stone used to pave the walkways he saw the others making use of. None seemed to walk upon it, though he supposed there was no trouble in trying. As he stepped upon the dark surface, his shoe made contact with solid ground. So it was possible to walk upon this after all. He continued to move forward until he heard a voice shout something out at him in Greek. He looked to the side, only to feel a hand grab him by the back of the neck, and pull back hard. As he was pulled out of the way, his eyes barely caught sight of some sort of metal vehicle, that went by faster than any horse, creating a crack of thunder as it passed by. The swordsman fell back, sitting in the shade against a building, as a man looked at him.
"Lucky that I caught you there, mister. One second later and you'd have been flattened on the pavement there."
The swordsman said nothing, simply looking at the other man, who looked back at him with a questioning stare. "Ey, you speak Greek there, bud?"
"I speak some," The swordsman replied, with the other man giving a thumbs up in approval.
"All right, that makes things a little easier. You're a traveler too, ain't ya? Name's Ioannes. I'm from Smyrna, but I like to come here once in a while. So what, about you? What brings you to the heart of the Roman Empire?"
"Name...my name is Zakaraya. From Ethiopia."
Ioannes let out a whistle as he heard Zakaraya's origin. "Wow, all the way from Africa. So, you here for business or just to have fun?"
"Business, just business."
Ioannes nodded sagely, "So, is this your first time here? If you need someone to show you around, I can help you."
"Yes, help is necessary." Zakaraya was stopped abruptly by a sudden feeling, like a sudden attack of pain in the head, he felt a great surge of power coming from the distance. He forced his eyes open, the power all radiating out from a massive building in the distance. He pointed at it, turning his face over to Ioannes. "Where is that?"
Ioannes looked over where Zakaraya pointed, furrowing his brow as he looked back. "The Palace? You need to get there? Well sure, I can show you how to get there, it's easy."
"Then let us go quickly."
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Jerusalem, Israel, Green Sahara@Tenma TendoA first-time traveler to the Holy City of Jerusalem would be stricken with awe to gaze upon the sight of the mighty Second Temple that dominated the skyline of the whole area, even from the ground. Anyone arriving by foot would be struck the image of the immaculate structure, clad in the brilliant white limestone, polished to reflect the light of the stars and moon, with gold shimmering in the light paving the crevices of its towering walls, with smoke gracefully wafting out from the center of the temple, floating over the city walls of Jerusalem. Though the protective walls themselves hid the less beautiful side of the city. For Jerusalem was far from a paradise. Beyond the open agora where hawkers shoved their wares in the face of any passerby, the labyrinth-like alleyways of the Israelite capital hid the seedy underside of the city, with traders in lest reputable goods, prostitutes, and gangsters hiding their activities away from the eyes of the common person took refuge in its crooked and disorienting structure. Jerusalem was only a short distance away from Bethlehem, however, any foreigner would do good to spend some time in Jerusalem to purchase the necessary garments to look like a local before traveling to a rural village like Bethlehem. Anti-Greek sentiment and general Xenophobia still haunted Israel like a poltergeist, and though it may not extend in a metropolis like Jerusalem, where the last vestiges of Hellenistic influence showed up in out of place Grecian architecture, anyone who didn't look sufficiently Hebrew could expect to face a lynch mob in a rural village not keen to outsiders. Capella would do well to take note of the distinctly medieval attitudes of the locals, for she was indeed in the real Middle Ages, though not any Middle Ages she would recognize. A full moon was out that night, the stars all shining brightly, the star of Sirius pointing to the southwest, on the road to Bethlehem. Anyone with a vehicle could take her out there for a small fee, though it may be uncomfortable, it would certainly attract less ire from the local farmers than to ride in on a Gummi Ship. But the road out of Jerusalem was by no means totally safe. Bandits roamed across the highways, but that was the least of her worries.
Guided by the light of Sirius, a hoard of Heartless, numbering 100, commanded by three superiors, three heartless who seemed to be nothing more than disembodied suits of armor, made their way to the small village, under the desire to say the child to be born there. A baby to be born to a mother under strange circumstances. Now, Heartless came to slay him and his bloodline. And seemingly no one would be able to stop them from razing the entire village, burning it to the ground without a trace. Capella would do well to make her way to the village quickly, lest the Heartless army approaches it before her.
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Axum, Kingdom of Axum, Green Sahara1250 AD, Present Day
"I have lost track of his presence on this world, My Messiah," Malachi spoke, turning to Emmanuel. "Perhaps, he was not the true Lion of Judah, after all."
Emmanuel closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Do not speak such baseless judgments, Malachi. You know not what I know."
Malachi gritted his teeth at this, face twisting in disgust, though it quickly passed, as he began speaking once more. "Shall I offer a sacrifice for his safe return?"
Emmanuel nodded, "That will be good"
"Though, I must ask," Malachi inquired, "While Zakaraya is missing in action, who shall take command over the army?"
Emmanuel looked to the ground, agitated at the question. "While the Lion of Judah is unable to complete his duties, you shall take reign of the army. And, oh High Priest, I feel as though we are required to begin our assault. I have received the notification that Persia has become swarmed with the hordes of Magog, and the forces of Gog have entered into the lands of the Vandals."
Malachi nodded sagely, "Shall I begin the assault on the Arab Cities?"
"Yes, High Priest. Show no mercy if you must, the taking of Israel will be complete soon. I will summon a force of Gog and Magog's warriors to aid your assult, find them in Sana'a, and then take them to Mecca. Once it falls, all of Arabia will go with it."
