Chapter 2: At First Glance
Ten years earlier...
"TALIA!" Ora yelled. "TALIA GET DOWN FROM THERE!"
The tiny princess spared a quick glance at her worried sister and then, like the naughty imp she was known to be, stuck out her tongue and blew a long taunting raspberry. Rather than obey, she quickly scrambled the rest of the way up the rickety ladder to the tower and disappeared in a flurry of skirts and torn stockings, over the ledge.
Princess Ora heaved a frustrated sigh. Her younger sister Talia was often her responsibility as their parents were engaged in a never-ending war that constantly switched between fierce battles and tense stalemates. It was some small consolation that she did not have the heavy responsibilities which their brother Oleg did. He had been in almost constant training since the start of the war-- learning both to fight and rule in the event that Father was wounded or killed. He was home now, a brief respite from the training grounds on the holy island, due to the Empire's armies withdrawing from the walls of Gelt, their northernmost town, after the last battle.
While it was nice to be together again, it seemed that Talia's naughtiness increased by tenfold under the influence of her brother Oleg. She idolized the young man and begged to carry his sword when he went out to the fields for practice. Her exploits grew more daring in an effort to gain his approval or make him laugh. It was almost enough to make Ora wish he'd cut his vacation short.
Almost... anyway. It was pleasant enough to have conversation again with a person her own age, even if it was only her brother.
She eyed the ladder with great apprehension. It did not look sound, and she had never liked heights. Steeling herself, she took a breath and began to climb.
Up in the tower, Oleg hung over the railing holding a small brown tube up to one eye. He glanced back in time to see his youngest sister haul herself over the ledge and look up at him while still on her knees, panting from exertion. She grinned in that cheeky way she had, and he could not help but to chuckle. She looked for all the world like a small, disheveled puppy begging for a pat on the head. If she'd had a tail it would have been beating the ground expectantly.
"Whatcha got, Oleg?" she asked, her eyes sparkling as she eyed the thin tube in his hand.
"A scope," he mumbled, turning back to survey the hills beyond the wall.
"What's aspcope, Oleg?" she demanded, pulling off her torn stockings before coming to stand behind him in her bare feet.
"A SCOPE," he enunciated carefully, "is a tool that lets you see things that are far away."
"Can I see? Please, can I see the scope?" she whined.
Prince Oleg, eldest child and only son of the King and Queen of Vezda, was famously known for his reserved and noble demeanor and strict self-discipline, but everyone knew he had one weakness. He was absolutely defenseless against the demands of his youngest sister, Princess Talia. Perhaps it was due to her small size. They had little in the way of nourishing food when she was a baby, or perhaps it was because unlike himself and his sister Ora, the baby had no memories of what Vezda was like before the war. Perhaps it was only that she was such a lovely and affectionate child, despite also being a slightly disobedient one, but whatever the reason, he had a boundless sort of patience for the girl.
"I suppose," he agreed. "But what I'm looking at is something very, very scary."
Princess Talia gasped.
"I don't know if it's a sight for babies... I don't know if you're brave enough yet," he teased.
"I AM!" she almost shrieked. "I'm the bravest, and I'm not a baby, I'm almost nine years old! Lemme see! Lemme see! Lemme see!"
Oleg struggled to keep a serious expression on his face-- no small feat with the way Talia jumped and wriggled, stretching out her hands for the scope, desperate now that her courage had been called into question.
"Very well. Stand just there," he ordered, jumping down from the railing and then crouching behind her to hold the scope up to her eye.
"What are you two doing up here?!" panted Ora as she hauled herself over the ledge. Her normally dignified facade was crumbling at the same rate at which her fine curly hair was escaping its pins. "If mother knew--"
"Sssh!" Oleg warned. "We are conducting very serious business, sister. We are engaged in scouting the enemy forces."
"Yeah! We're doing serious stuff here! Me 'n Oleg are scouting the enemy!" Talia parroted in her most commanding voice.
"Now then, scout Talia, tell me what you see," ordered Oleg.
Ora scoffed as she stood and brushed her skirts off.
"I see the enemy!" she yelled. "But Oleg... they're so close! They're not supposed to be that close!"
"They're not close, little scout. That's the scope. Remember what I said? It makes things that are far, far away look close so that you can see them better," Oleg soothed. "Now tell me, what's the enemy up to today?"
"They're eatin'... and drinkin'... and also... they're talkin', the dirty rats!" Talia reported.
"Language-- really!" Ora cried.
Oleg chuckled again.
"What else, little scout? Look carefully," Oleg prodded.
"They're... they're... well they're really not doing much, are they?" Talia decided, disappointment evident in her tone.
"Do you see the long table outside the royal tent?" Oleg asked.
"I see it!"
"Do you see the man standing to the right of--"
"OLEG! Who's that man? That giant man with the great big sword! No, not a man at all. It's an ogre! Oleg, I think it's an ogre! Where did they get an ogre?!"
"There's no such thing as ogres," Ora snapped.
"You wouldn't say that if you had a scope! He's huge, and I think he's got more muscles than Father or Sir Aron, and look at his hair! He's got hair as long as a woman and it's all braided funny-like!"
"That's Prince Mikhail, the emperor's brother. He's come to take command of the Unarian armies. Though I doubt he'll actually lead them. He's far too young. I expect it's command in name only," Oleg explained.
"Maybe he will take command, and if he's young as you say, he'll certainly lack experience. Lack of experience loses wars you know," Ora reasoned. "Here, let me see the scope!"
Talia growled and stuck out her bottom lip, not wanting to relinquish the scope, but being a somewhat principled child, she knew that it was only fair to allow her sister a turn. With a last long look at the frighteningly sized Prince Mikhail, she stepped back to allow her sister to take her place.
While Oleg stood and held the scope to Ora's eye, Talia leaned over the railing and squinted her eyes. Without the aid of the scope, the enemy forces camped at the base of the hills seemed like little more than a clump of gnats-- easily squashed. Though if she squinted even harder, she thought she could just make out Prince Mikhail. He was the largest black dot, after all.
"Where is-- OH MY!" Ora gasped. She stood and observed in shocked silence for a moment before backing away and snatching a handkerchief from her pocket to dab at her very red face.
"What was that reaction?!" Oleg demanded, though a teasing glint was in his eye.
"Yeah! What was that-- OH MY!?" Talia parroted, though she did not understand her sister's response in the way Oleg did.
"Well... he's... it's just that he's... well, he's a very large fellow, isn't he?" Ora mumbled, her face reddening even further.
"Is that what you think, that's he's a very large fellow?" Oleg asked lightly, a taunting smile spreading across his face.
Talia glanced back and forth between her brother and sister, there was something she was missing, some joke or tease, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
"He doesn't look THAT young," Ora frowned. "How old do you... do you suppose..."
"I've heard he's about your age, maybe 15 or 16," Oleg shrugged, his smile deepening.
"No way!" Talia interrupted. "What do they feed kids in the empire to grow them that large? Rocks?"
Ignoring her, Ora dabbed at her face again, and when she glanced up at Oleg, she looked guilty.
"Alright, I'll admit. He's handsome!" she smirked.
"EWWW!" Talia shrieked. "That's stomach-churning, Ora! What's wrong with your eyes?! Let me see again, Oleg! PLEASE?!"
Oleg crouched down again and put the scope to her eye.
"Where did he go... Oh there! Just there! I see him now. Handsome..." Talia repeated and considered it in all seriousness. Sir Aron was handsome. Everyone said so. He was tall and when he took his shirt off to wipe down after training, he looked just like the marble sculptures in the temple. More than that, he was funny and smiled a lot, and sometimes even passed her sweets when he came out of the meeting room. He was a great deal like Father, noble and kind and good, but much younger. This Prince Mikhail... he was nothing like Sir Aron. His face was quite nice, with fine sharp features and a strong chin, but he had a cold sort of look. Even at a distance she could not imagine such a face smiling or laughing.
"Perhaps we can end this war the old-fashioned way after all," Oleg teased. "Perhaps a marriage treaty between the--"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Ora screeched and smacked her brother's arm. "Just because I admit he isn't hard to look at, doesn't mean I want to be anywhere near a man like that!"
"He might be a little bit handsome," Talia decided. " His face is pretty, even if it looks mean, but he's not as handsome as Sir Aron, and he'd not be a good husband at all."
"Why do you think that, little scout?" Oleg asked.
"Can you imagine when he tries to hug his wife? If he squeezes even a little, her stomach will pop right out of her mouth!" Talia scoffed.
Oleg doubled over laughing at her words, and even Ora chuckled. Thus encouraged, Talia spun around and held up her arms.
"And forget about children!" she continued. "If he tried to pat his baby's head, he'd crush it!"
Oleg laughed even harder, and Ora dabbed at her eyes with mirth.
"That's why Ora should marry Sir Aron. You know what Father says, a man that can't be tender can't have a family!" Talia pronounced.
Oleg patted his chest a few times and cleared his throat.
"Father says a man that can't be tender, SHOULDN'T have a family. Not that he can't, little scout, and more's the pity, because many do, and that's how creatures like what you see out there are born."
"Like Prince Mikhail?" Talia pressed.
"Yes, rumors about his evil deeds have reached us even before we've seen his face," Oleg sighed, "I can't say that I'm surprised with the sort of father he had... well, we all know what sort of man the last Emperor was."
"Yes, and the current one is no better!" Ora agreed.
"Do you know what they say about this Mikhail, they say he even murdered his own--"
"Ssssh! Oleg!" Ora snapped, jerking her head towards Talia who was listening with rapt attention.
"Oh, I'd almost forgot. I've a mission for you, little scout, a very important one. I've not had my lunch yet, but if I go down to the kitchen, someone will see me, and Father will drag me off to listen to those boring old men giving their lectures in the war room. I'll need you to sneak down there and snatch some bread and maybe an orange for me. Can you do that without being seen, scout?"
"Awww... but I want to hear about the murdering!" Talia whined.
"Complete your mission, and I'll take you out to the bell tower tonight and show you where we keep the signal flares," he offered, dangling a bait he knew very well she couldn't resist.
"And then we can light one?" she pressed.
"Certainly not! Should we call down the entire legion of Drail from the mountains for your amusement? Such a naughty child, my sister is!" he chided, though his grin suggested he admired her for that very reason.
"Fine," Talia sighed, "but there aren't any oranges left. I ate the last one this morning!"
She stuck out her tongue again, and in a flash, disappeared over the ledge to scramble down the ladder.
"You spoil that child," Ora accused, though there was no real admonishment behind her words.
"Well, I suppose someone should. She's had a rough go of it so far, and she doesn't even realize it, because she's never known anything different," Oleg frowned, turning again to watch the distant army through his scope.
"You've had a rough go of it too, brother," Ora sighed.
"Yes, but I can still remember the good times before, and because I remember, I can imagine a different sort of future," he mused. "I suppose you will marry Sir Aron?"
"All in good time, brother," Ora said, blushing again. "He's yet to even mention such a matter to me!"
"You have no reservations? You won't agree just because you think it's expected of you?" Oleg wondered.
"That's a rather forward question to put to a lady," she chided.
"Not when the lady's my sister." Oleg chuckled, and Ora smiled and shook her head.
"No, no reservations. He's a wonderful man, and a very handsome one at that! I shall be very pleased with such a husband," she admitted.
"More handsome than the rabid wolf of the empire-- the demon Prince Mikhail?" Olaf teased.
"Half demon, if the rumors are to be believed," Ora corrected, confirming that she had indeed heard the same stories Oleg had eluded to. "Do you think he really killed his own mother?"
"Perhaps," Oleg shrugged. "You heard it was over an affair? That she'd been unfaithful to the Emperor and that he killed her when he learned it. I've heard that his father wasn't even Emperor Aleksi, that it was--"
"But if he isn't the Old Aleksi's son, then how is he Emperor Grigori's brother?" Talia's voice echoed through the tower. Ora walked over to the ladder to see that Talia had only climbed down far enough to hide herself from view, and that she had probably been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.
"You wicked little monkey!" Ora shrieked, "Don't you laugh again, Oleg! Talia, you climb down right now, or I'll haul you up here and smack your bottom! Never mind, I'm coming down myself, you'd better run!"
"Run Talia! Don't let her get you! And don't forget my lunch!" Oleg called.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone