"There is but one reliance, and that is the hope that the evil shall one day pass away."
— Anonymous
The Ch’arch’arel Sep’akanut’yun Estate, Legnica, Evenguard of Azura
The Manor's South Study — Tuesday, the 24th Day of September, 2013 C.E. — 8:05 PM AT
The doorway that led into the study of the Kozhukhina was open for the first time in a week. As Oleg Korzakhov approached, he knew that the simple gesture of leaving the door open allowed him to access the inner sanctum of his tormented Empress, and he began to prepare accordingly for what was sure to be a most uncomfortable meeting. He could only imagine what Calixte was going through right now, isolated from everyone in the midst of a fast by necessity, rather than a fast by choice. For no one in their right mind would ever choose to accept the burdens that had yet again been levied upon her unfairly by the wanton recklessness of those who were supposed to love her more than any other.
It was a case study in tragedy, to say the least. Not seven days before, the sordid details of a very personal and very meaningful betrayal had begun to be broadcast in the inner-most circles of Legnica's powerful elite. The husband-to-be of the Kozhukhina and her matron had become entangled in a delicate web of sex, lies, and seduction that had brought a dangerous new twist into the already-complicated hierarchy of the first family. From the moment Suren Nazaryan and Darya Marin had entertained the notion of betraying the woman they had once both loved, they were doomed. Caught in the midst of some flight of fancy—or temporary bout of insanity, Oleg couldn't say which—had led the pair of lovers to undertake a desperate gambit. That gambit changed the face of the Evenguard in ways they couldn't have imagined.
Oleg shook his head as he approached the doorway, carrying a bowl of soup for Calixte. Suren and Darya had apparently gotten pregnant, and were prepared to break off the engagement with Calixte so as to hide their sin. That in and of itself would have been a monumental betrayal of trust, considering all that the three had been through in the past few years. If it had been left at that though, things might have simmered down over time, were it not for the Arrajina's probing. From the moment Isandra Garin managed to badger a distraught Darya over the truth, it was all over. Suren's violent reaction led to a heated argument, which led to the physical altercation that had rendered Isandra incapacitated for the foreseeable future. In their panic, the two lovers attempted to flee, but they didn't get very far.
And neither will you if you don't get your ass moving and get in there!
Despite his self-chastisement, Oleg couldn't help it. It was a distressing, painfully recent memory that plagued him deeply as he took his first step inside Calixte's sanctuary. Inside the study, things were strewn about in a disturbing mess; clothes and books left lying where they may without any consideration for organization or tidiness. The windows were closed, something that was rare for this time of year, and Oleg could feel an uneasy chill hanging in the stale air. The Kozhukhina was staring off into nothingness, slouched low in a sitting chair that had been forcibly drug across the floor towards the corner window that overlooked the bay off in the distance. Her nightgown was splayed open, and her pale white skin shone underneath the flickering of candlelight. The sun was just beginning to set over the water, casting deep shadows across the room.
Oleg carefully walked towards Calixte's chair, feeling a mixture of heartbroken pity and remorse for his leader. If ever there were two people who should have known not to cross the Shroudlure after all she'd done, it should've been Darya Marin and Suren Nazaryan. He had no doubt that they had regrets over what they'd done to her, but their choice had been made for them by the cruel hand of fate; one that was particularly harsh to Calixte Vardanyan. And though the Azuran people had not been informed of the treachery that had taken place, things were no less hectic. The economy's troubles, coupled with Isandra Garin's 'accident' had left the Azur people shaken and quite fearful of what was to come. So much instability had plagued the nation for years; perhaps that why Calixte had Suren and Darya executed by the Nera Strega upon their capture...
In any event, that wasn't important, not at the moment. There would be time for recrimination later; for now, he simply needed to get Calixte to take nourishment. “M’lady, you must eat something,” Oleg pushed gently, trying to rouse her from her melancholy. “You haven’t taken sustenance in more than a week, and you’re beginning to look sickly.”
“I don’t care how I look, Oleg.”
Well, it was a start. Korzakhov gently pushed the bowl of Apurvosp onto the side table nearest her hand, nodding. “I had the kitchen prepare this to taste, m’lady. I know that it’s your favorite.”
“Oleg,” she said in a sigh, struggling to pull herself into a more proper position in the chair, “when I’m ready to eat, I’ll eat. I have no appetite for food right now.”
Korzakhov shook his head apologetically, stepping back from the chair with a sigh. Though he desperately desired to pull her up out of her stupor, it seemed as though she was content to wallow in the misery of her brokenhearted state. Had he ordered the death of those that he loved more than any other, he too would have been devastated. Even so, with Isandra Garin incapacitated and both Marin and Nazaryan now dead, there was a decided lack of leadership present in the Evenguard, and Calixte's continued insistence on not governing had begun to have an affect on the nation as a whole. With the economic stagnation continuing to cause conflict amongst the classes, Oleg was beginning to feel the gains made under the Kozhukhina's rule were starting to slip. It was an uncomfortable feeling, made all the more unsettling by a sudden punctuation of the silence.
“Oleg?”
“Yes, m’lady?”
Calixte slowly rose form the chair, using the armrests to steady herself in her weakened state. “Why did this have to happen? What good came from anything that I did for this house?”
Oleg opened his mouth to speak, but shut it presently. It took him a moment, but he knew what she was getting at. “I have done so much to help the people of this country, and yet things just never seem to improve at all. I’m losing my patience with it all.”
“You mustn’t give up now. You’ve come too far to turn back, and I’m sure—”
“Who ever said anything about turning back?” Calixte said candidly, surprising him. “You think that I’m going to allow Darya and Suren to dissuade me from my path to follow?”
“Well, I—”
Calixte managed a chuckle, shaking her head. “Oleg, come now; you should know me better than that by now. You think I’m sulking over a two-timing cheat and a slut who can’t keep her legs shut?”
Korzakhov was dumbfounded. “Well, actually…”
The Kozhukhina sighed audibly, gently strolling towards the window overlooking Legnica. “Oleg, you have been my most trusted advisor and liaison for some time now, and a wonderful friend to boot. Yet even you must see the dangerous times that we walk through here.”
“Things may be rough now,” Oleg confessed, speaking even then in half-truths, “but things always have a way of turning themselves around. This is the heritage of our people, you know; even when disaster strikes, things always seem to fix themselves in the end.”
“Not this time,” Calixte muttered in angst. “Something is different, I can feel it down in my spirit. And you and I both know that we are to never take those intuitions lightly.”
“No,” Oleg replied. “Certainly not.”
“The people are restless; Pan-Azurism is dead or dying, and the mood in the streets is grim. The economic downturn has made people question whether or not I can lead them successfully.”
“That’s not true!” Oleg barked with command of the room: “The people would follow you to the ends of the Earth, m’lady! After what you’ve done for them, where you’ve taken them? There aren’t many souls who would dare question you, let alone deny your sovereignty over them!”
“I think you allow your personal feelings to cloud your judgment,” Calixte said facing him, before turning back towards the window in a huff. “There are some who lead best in war. And when the guns fall silent, their purpose is done. Sometimes, a leader’s life is forfeit for this reason.”
“But how can you solve this crisis of confidence then?” Oleg moved closer to her, crossing his arms in front of him. “From your attitude, it seems as if you feel defeated by the circumstances. Yet the circumstances seem to weigh heavier on your mind than your subjects.”
“Because my subjects depend on me to lead them,” Calixte angrily shouted, “And they don’t know where they’re being led!”
Oleg allowed a touch of anger to creep into his own voice, playing a most dangerous game. “And where are they being led, m’lady? Hmm? If your incompetence is so damned noteworthy, then why aren't the people marching down the street asking for your head on a pike? It's happened before, you know."
The sneer that was plastered across the Kozhukhina's face in that moment was potent enough to send real pangs of fear coursing through him. Had he challenged her like that a month prior, she would have simply told him where to go. But this was a new mentality that had been borne of the frustration of a woman losing every ounce of control. The betrayal of those that she loved and cared for had done a number on her, and yet their subterfuge had awakened a darkness from the chasms of her very soul. Yet he could see at the same time that she was fighting with herself, trying to subdue those personal demons within. It was a painful display to see, if only because of how stoically she had stood in defense of her country. The Daughter of Tsyion was everything to Azura, and if the people lost her, there would be no hope left for anyone.
After an interminable silence, Calixte finally shrugged, yielding the point. "Maybe I'm pressing too hard right now."
"When is the last time you took any personal time for yourself?" Oleg inquired, welcoming the change in her inflection. "Perhaps you should schedule something of a vacation day or two for yourself, to recharge and recuperate from all that's happened?"
"What the fuck is personal time?" Calixte cooed loudly, drawing a laugh from Korzakhov.
"Yes, yes, fine. You've been on the clock for quite some time now, I get it. But maybe it is time for you to consider leaving for a little while. There are few leaders in the world who have had to deal with the amount of pressure that you've faced since you've assumed the throne; if anyone has earned some personal time, it's you."
"There's too much to do, Oleg," the Kozhukhina replied. "I need to get some things rolling before I can take this newfangled 'vacation' thing you keep referring to. And the first order of business is the Syndicate. I need to start making overtures towards the Kylarnatians and fully engage them on this business, or else we may lose our international legitimacy in Pardes."
"Are you wanting to invite the Foreign Minister of the Imperium here?" Oleg inquired.
"Well," Calixte began, then paused for a moment. "I'm not sure. I wonder if the Imperium would be willing to have me as a visitor instead. It would look better if I engaged them by coming to them, versus dragging them all the way down from the north for a simple conference."
"Something this inconsequential could probably be handled by ancillary ministers," Oleg said firmly. "Are you sure this is the best allocation for your time, m'lady? We could have you take care of any number of things closer to home..."
"No," she responded quickly. "I need the support of the Imperium to make the Syndicate work. And while I'm there, I could broach the possibility of establishing closer diplomatic ties. It could be good groundwork towards opening trading avenues into Gholgoth."
For a second, Oleg considered contending with her over the suggestion, but knew in his heart that it was a pointless gesture. Though it seemed a waste of time, Korzakhov suspected deep down that it was the prospect of getting out of Legnica that had enticed Calixte the most. "If it be your will, m'lady, then the Evenguard shall acquiesce and make it so."
"Bless you kindly," Calixte said warmly. "I appreciate your loyalty, Oleg. I truly do."
Korzakhov bowed slightly, nodding respectfully. "If you would permit me, I would take my leave to begin making the arrangements. I will contact you privily once I have a reply from the Imperium about setting up a formal meeting."
Content, Oleg slowly nodded, turning towards the door to leave the study. Yet as he approached the open doorway, he stopped short of physically walking out of the room; in that same instant, he could hear Calixte shift on the balls of her feet, turning halfway towards where he had come to a stop. It was as if she knew what he was about to ask, and yet he could not deny her the satisfaction. Something was burning a hole through him, and it had to be addressed. If there was any hope of things ever returning to normal again, the elephant in the room would have to be put down. He could accept almost any answer from Calixte, so long as she was confident in her choice. If there was any self-doubt in her choice of actions, then the country paid a heavy price. He could not allow that to happen without attempting to fix it.
"M'lady," he hesitated. "There's something I have to know, but I'm not sure how to ask—"
"You want to know why I had them shot, don't you?"
"Yes, m'lady. Yes I do..."
Calixte shook her head, staring out at the window. "They put a knife in my back. So I had to drive a stake through their hearts. If I hadn't, then this country would have collapsed under the weight of their tyranny, and I would have lost my soul in the process."
"Was it worth it in the end?" Oleg looked down at the floor, unsure if he was treading on solid ground. "Was it worth it to have them executed for what they did? Do you regret it in the slightest?"
"They tried to steal my keep," Calixte said softly. "I have no regrets; only pain that can never be tempered."
It was a case study in tragedy, to say the least. Not seven days before, the sordid details of a very personal and very meaningful betrayal had begun to be broadcast in the inner-most circles of Legnica's powerful elite. The husband-to-be of the Kozhukhina and her matron had become entangled in a delicate web of sex, lies, and seduction that had brought a dangerous new twist into the already-complicated hierarchy of the first family. From the moment Suren Nazaryan and Darya Marin had entertained the notion of betraying the woman they had once both loved, they were doomed. Caught in the midst of some flight of fancy—or temporary bout of insanity, Oleg couldn't say which—had led the pair of lovers to undertake a desperate gambit. That gambit changed the face of the Evenguard in ways they couldn't have imagined.
Oleg shook his head as he approached the doorway, carrying a bowl of soup for Calixte. Suren and Darya had apparently gotten pregnant, and were prepared to break off the engagement with Calixte so as to hide their sin. That in and of itself would have been a monumental betrayal of trust, considering all that the three had been through in the past few years. If it had been left at that though, things might have simmered down over time, were it not for the Arrajina's probing. From the moment Isandra Garin managed to badger a distraught Darya over the truth, it was all over. Suren's violent reaction led to a heated argument, which led to the physical altercation that had rendered Isandra incapacitated for the foreseeable future. In their panic, the two lovers attempted to flee, but they didn't get very far.
And neither will you if you don't get your ass moving and get in there!
Despite his self-chastisement, Oleg couldn't help it. It was a distressing, painfully recent memory that plagued him deeply as he took his first step inside Calixte's sanctuary. Inside the study, things were strewn about in a disturbing mess; clothes and books left lying where they may without any consideration for organization or tidiness. The windows were closed, something that was rare for this time of year, and Oleg could feel an uneasy chill hanging in the stale air. The Kozhukhina was staring off into nothingness, slouched low in a sitting chair that had been forcibly drug across the floor towards the corner window that overlooked the bay off in the distance. Her nightgown was splayed open, and her pale white skin shone underneath the flickering of candlelight. The sun was just beginning to set over the water, casting deep shadows across the room.
Oleg carefully walked towards Calixte's chair, feeling a mixture of heartbroken pity and remorse for his leader. If ever there were two people who should have known not to cross the Shroudlure after all she'd done, it should've been Darya Marin and Suren Nazaryan. He had no doubt that they had regrets over what they'd done to her, but their choice had been made for them by the cruel hand of fate; one that was particularly harsh to Calixte Vardanyan. And though the Azuran people had not been informed of the treachery that had taken place, things were no less hectic. The economy's troubles, coupled with Isandra Garin's 'accident' had left the Azur people shaken and quite fearful of what was to come. So much instability had plagued the nation for years; perhaps that why Calixte had Suren and Darya executed by the Nera Strega upon their capture...
In any event, that wasn't important, not at the moment. There would be time for recrimination later; for now, he simply needed to get Calixte to take nourishment. “M’lady, you must eat something,” Oleg pushed gently, trying to rouse her from her melancholy. “You haven’t taken sustenance in more than a week, and you’re beginning to look sickly.”
“I don’t care how I look, Oleg.”
Well, it was a start. Korzakhov gently pushed the bowl of Apurvosp onto the side table nearest her hand, nodding. “I had the kitchen prepare this to taste, m’lady. I know that it’s your favorite.”
“Oleg,” she said in a sigh, struggling to pull herself into a more proper position in the chair, “when I’m ready to eat, I’ll eat. I have no appetite for food right now.”
Korzakhov shook his head apologetically, stepping back from the chair with a sigh. Though he desperately desired to pull her up out of her stupor, it seemed as though she was content to wallow in the misery of her brokenhearted state. Had he ordered the death of those that he loved more than any other, he too would have been devastated. Even so, with Isandra Garin incapacitated and both Marin and Nazaryan now dead, there was a decided lack of leadership present in the Evenguard, and Calixte's continued insistence on not governing had begun to have an affect on the nation as a whole. With the economic stagnation continuing to cause conflict amongst the classes, Oleg was beginning to feel the gains made under the Kozhukhina's rule were starting to slip. It was an uncomfortable feeling, made all the more unsettling by a sudden punctuation of the silence.
“Oleg?”
“Yes, m’lady?”
Calixte slowly rose form the chair, using the armrests to steady herself in her weakened state. “Why did this have to happen? What good came from anything that I did for this house?”
Oleg opened his mouth to speak, but shut it presently. It took him a moment, but he knew what she was getting at. “I have done so much to help the people of this country, and yet things just never seem to improve at all. I’m losing my patience with it all.”
“You mustn’t give up now. You’ve come too far to turn back, and I’m sure—”
“Who ever said anything about turning back?” Calixte said candidly, surprising him. “You think that I’m going to allow Darya and Suren to dissuade me from my path to follow?”
“Well, I—”
Calixte managed a chuckle, shaking her head. “Oleg, come now; you should know me better than that by now. You think I’m sulking over a two-timing cheat and a slut who can’t keep her legs shut?”
Korzakhov was dumbfounded. “Well, actually…”
The Kozhukhina sighed audibly, gently strolling towards the window overlooking Legnica. “Oleg, you have been my most trusted advisor and liaison for some time now, and a wonderful friend to boot. Yet even you must see the dangerous times that we walk through here.”
“Things may be rough now,” Oleg confessed, speaking even then in half-truths, “but things always have a way of turning themselves around. This is the heritage of our people, you know; even when disaster strikes, things always seem to fix themselves in the end.”
“Not this time,” Calixte muttered in angst. “Something is different, I can feel it down in my spirit. And you and I both know that we are to never take those intuitions lightly.”
“No,” Oleg replied. “Certainly not.”
“The people are restless; Pan-Azurism is dead or dying, and the mood in the streets is grim. The economic downturn has made people question whether or not I can lead them successfully.”
“That’s not true!” Oleg barked with command of the room: “The people would follow you to the ends of the Earth, m’lady! After what you’ve done for them, where you’ve taken them? There aren’t many souls who would dare question you, let alone deny your sovereignty over them!”
“I think you allow your personal feelings to cloud your judgment,” Calixte said facing him, before turning back towards the window in a huff. “There are some who lead best in war. And when the guns fall silent, their purpose is done. Sometimes, a leader’s life is forfeit for this reason.”
“But how can you solve this crisis of confidence then?” Oleg moved closer to her, crossing his arms in front of him. “From your attitude, it seems as if you feel defeated by the circumstances. Yet the circumstances seem to weigh heavier on your mind than your subjects.”
“Because my subjects depend on me to lead them,” Calixte angrily shouted, “And they don’t know where they’re being led!”
Oleg allowed a touch of anger to creep into his own voice, playing a most dangerous game. “And where are they being led, m’lady? Hmm? If your incompetence is so damned noteworthy, then why aren't the people marching down the street asking for your head on a pike? It's happened before, you know."
The sneer that was plastered across the Kozhukhina's face in that moment was potent enough to send real pangs of fear coursing through him. Had he challenged her like that a month prior, she would have simply told him where to go. But this was a new mentality that had been borne of the frustration of a woman losing every ounce of control. The betrayal of those that she loved and cared for had done a number on her, and yet their subterfuge had awakened a darkness from the chasms of her very soul. Yet he could see at the same time that she was fighting with herself, trying to subdue those personal demons within. It was a painful display to see, if only because of how stoically she had stood in defense of her country. The Daughter of Tsyion was everything to Azura, and if the people lost her, there would be no hope left for anyone.
After an interminable silence, Calixte finally shrugged, yielding the point. "Maybe I'm pressing too hard right now."
"When is the last time you took any personal time for yourself?" Oleg inquired, welcoming the change in her inflection. "Perhaps you should schedule something of a vacation day or two for yourself, to recharge and recuperate from all that's happened?"
"What the fuck is personal time?" Calixte cooed loudly, drawing a laugh from Korzakhov.
"Yes, yes, fine. You've been on the clock for quite some time now, I get it. But maybe it is time for you to consider leaving for a little while. There are few leaders in the world who have had to deal with the amount of pressure that you've faced since you've assumed the throne; if anyone has earned some personal time, it's you."
"There's too much to do, Oleg," the Kozhukhina replied. "I need to get some things rolling before I can take this newfangled 'vacation' thing you keep referring to. And the first order of business is the Syndicate. I need to start making overtures towards the Kylarnatians and fully engage them on this business, or else we may lose our international legitimacy in Pardes."
"Are you wanting to invite the Foreign Minister of the Imperium here?" Oleg inquired.
"Well," Calixte began, then paused for a moment. "I'm not sure. I wonder if the Imperium would be willing to have me as a visitor instead. It would look better if I engaged them by coming to them, versus dragging them all the way down from the north for a simple conference."
"Something this inconsequential could probably be handled by ancillary ministers," Oleg said firmly. "Are you sure this is the best allocation for your time, m'lady? We could have you take care of any number of things closer to home..."
"No," she responded quickly. "I need the support of the Imperium to make the Syndicate work. And while I'm there, I could broach the possibility of establishing closer diplomatic ties. It could be good groundwork towards opening trading avenues into Gholgoth."
For a second, Oleg considered contending with her over the suggestion, but knew in his heart that it was a pointless gesture. Though it seemed a waste of time, Korzakhov suspected deep down that it was the prospect of getting out of Legnica that had enticed Calixte the most. "If it be your will, m'lady, then the Evenguard shall acquiesce and make it so."
"Bless you kindly," Calixte said warmly. "I appreciate your loyalty, Oleg. I truly do."
Korzakhov bowed slightly, nodding respectfully. "If you would permit me, I would take my leave to begin making the arrangements. I will contact you privily once I have a reply from the Imperium about setting up a formal meeting."
Content, Oleg slowly nodded, turning towards the door to leave the study. Yet as he approached the open doorway, he stopped short of physically walking out of the room; in that same instant, he could hear Calixte shift on the balls of her feet, turning halfway towards where he had come to a stop. It was as if she knew what he was about to ask, and yet he could not deny her the satisfaction. Something was burning a hole through him, and it had to be addressed. If there was any hope of things ever returning to normal again, the elephant in the room would have to be put down. He could accept almost any answer from Calixte, so long as she was confident in her choice. If there was any self-doubt in her choice of actions, then the country paid a heavy price. He could not allow that to happen without attempting to fix it.
"M'lady," he hesitated. "There's something I have to know, but I'm not sure how to ask—"
"You want to know why I had them shot, don't you?"
"Yes, m'lady. Yes I do..."
Calixte shook her head, staring out at the window. "They put a knife in my back. So I had to drive a stake through their hearts. If I hadn't, then this country would have collapsed under the weight of their tyranny, and I would have lost my soul in the process."
"Was it worth it in the end?" Oleg looked down at the floor, unsure if he was treading on solid ground. "Was it worth it to have them executed for what they did? Do you regret it in the slightest?"
"They tried to steal my keep," Calixte said softly. "I have no regrets; only pain that can never be tempered."
