Omen: Oh, just wait 'til I post her stat page.
Also, given the apparent lack of interest in the story, I believe this will be my last narrative update, the rest being written in a history book format to more expeditiously reach the end of the AAR.
I'm determined to leave this story completed, even if Omen's the only reader.
August 3, 1140
Valerius stared out across the ruins spread before him, squinting against the harsh afternoon light beating down from a cloudless, deep blue sky. From his vantage point leaning against one of the crumbling stone pillars of the third tier of the Coliseum, Valerius could see a few people, beggars and vagrants that had slipped past the guards to take shelter within the ancient ruin most likely, moving about, and out into the fallow fields that lay between the ruins and the city walls. Sweat beaded on the king's brow, and a thirst scratched at his throat. Valerius silently raised a wineskin to his lips and drank eagerly.
Valerius had dashed off into the city's ruins to escape from the bustle surrounding his imminent birthday and the end of his regency. There, amidst the remains of the ancients, the king had silently walked and contemplated. For a time, he did nothing but stare up into the sky, letting the overwhelming silence sweep over him until he felt the vast emptiness above was pulling him in. Then, hoping to catch some relief from the heat with a passing breeze, he started to climb.
His solitude did not last for long. A tremor of annoyance flashed across his face as the sound of footsteps grew close. Pushing off the pillar he was leaning against, he turned toward the sound to confront whoever had been following him ever since he had entered the Coliseum, hand reaching for the dirk tucked into his belt.
"Looking for something amongst the ruins?" Elienor Galen said, emerging slowly from out of the nearby shade.
Valerius all but yanked his hand away from the weapon, his mouth opening, but only a stammer managed to roll off his tongue. "N-n-no grandmother. I'm sorry, I was just..."
"Stop fidgeting," Elienor snapped chidingly, drawing closer. The king stared at her. Her hair was now solid white, her face craggy and worn with deep wrinkles. Elienor's shoulders were now stooped, and she walked now only with the help of a cane. Still, a part of Valerius' mind wondered how she had managed to reach the top tier of the ruin...
"And stop groveling too," she added. "You will be king in your own right in a few days, for good or ill. The last thing we need is a king who apologizes like an untrained servant."
"I came here to think," Valerius admitted. "It's too noisy in the city or the palace, someone would always interrupt me."
"You would not be the first Stukov to do so. But what, may I ask, were you thinking about that requires such deep concentration?" Elienor pressed, stepping toward the edge of the tier and resting her hands against the stone wall so she could stare out over the ruined structure.
Valerius did not respond at once, standing with his head held sheepishly low while he nervously searched for a place to keep his hands still. "I'm in love," he said finally. "With a girl."
"I'm glad you saw fit to add in that last detail," Elienor said with her back still to the king.
"A married girl."
Elienor let out a soft sigh. "Better a adulterer than a sodomite. But marriage is hardly a permanent state of affairs. It can always be changed."
"I know," he said unflinchingly. "I was thinking of how to do it."
"Do what?"
"Kill her husband."
Elienor glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Wine has made you bold, Valerius."
"Not quite. I've found that wine has very little influence over me these days," he replied, a predatory smile creeping across his lips. Elienor's stare lingered on him, her eyes flitting about as she appraised him.
She turned back to look down at the Coliseum. "I always thought you might be just another fool," she said. "But I see now that I was wrong. Good, this family cannot afford another fool."
"You would have been a very poor teacher if I hard turned out a failure," he rejoined.
Elienor let out a short, sharp laugh. "Tell me, what is this married woman's name?"
"Her name is Beatriz," he said, relishing the sound of it. "Beatriz Jimenez, daughter of the King of Navarre. She's married to the..."
"I know who Beatriz Jimenez is married to," Elienor interrupted sharply, only for her tone to immediately soften again. "So, why is she so special to you? I trust it is just more than a pretty face and a good figure."
Valerius chuckled. "She's smart. She saw through my mask right away. And it was she who planted the idea of killing her husband. I like a capable woman, and even more I like a woman who knows it."
"Brave of you to marry a woman who strives to see her husband dead," Elienor warned.
"I am aware of the risks," Valerius retorted.
Elienor turned fully to face her grandson, giving him a hard look. "Then why go through with it?"
"Because I love her," he answered without a pause.
His grandmother seemed almost to sag in relief, a faint smile appearing. "That is the best answer you could have given. Let me give you some advice, Valerius, from an old woman whose time is running out. I have served your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Each one of them thought they could shape the world in their image. Alexi was the only one to come close. They all wanted to leave a legacy that would last forever. Understandable, but, ultimately, foolish."
Elienor swept her hand through the air, gesturing toward the whole of the Coliseum. "Look around you. See the legacy of the Romans? Their great empire is nothing but dust and crumbling stone now. Their legacy doesn't speak to us any longer. All we hear from these ruins now is our own words, reflected back as we wish to hear them. And eventually our words will be forgotten as well. So don't try and spend your life building a legacy, because in the end none of it will matter. Just live your life."
Valerius looked at her as if puzzled. "And how does a King just live his life?"
"As he chooses," she replied. "Be King so you will be called great and wise, so mankind will flourish under your rule, so you will become rich from the spoils, so your enemies will be punished. Rule so, on the day you are gone from this world, your children or your grandchildren can sit on the throne secure."
"Don't be king for the sake of dead men," she insisted, her voice cracking, her shoulders slumping slightly forward from the effort of speaking. Valerius continued to watch her, transfixed by the sight of emotion pouring from his grandmother's expression. He did not speak for a long time.
"No," Valerius said tersely and with a dismissively air.
"What?"
"I said no," he repeated, turning back to regard her, jaw set squarely, and his eyes smoldering, malevolent in their intensity. "I will not sit idly by, waiting for death to take me. I will not go meekly into that utter oblivion like my father. I will live forever, yes, forever! Or I will make such a mark on this world that I will never be forgotten!" he shouted, face twisted by an anger that had burned within him since childhood. Elienor gaped in shock, trying to offer up a desperate protest, but Valerius abruptly rose to his feet and stormed off.
When the new King of Rome had gone and Elienor was sure she was alone, the look of desolation on her face vanished, her lips curling upwards triumphantly, eyes narrowing. "Oh, this one will go far. I daresay the world will tremble before him. A pity I won't be around to see it all happen."
Elienor paused, glancing upwards and casting her eyes about as if looking for something. "That is, unless you decide otherwise? Have I earned that right, my lord? No, perhaps not just yet. There is still time for that."
Also, given the apparent lack of interest in the story, I believe this will be my last narrative update, the rest being written in a history book format to more expeditiously reach the end of the AAR.
I'm determined to leave this story completed, even if Omen's the only reader.
-----
August 3, 1140
Valerius stared out across the ruins spread before him, squinting against the harsh afternoon light beating down from a cloudless, deep blue sky. From his vantage point leaning against one of the crumbling stone pillars of the third tier of the Coliseum, Valerius could see a few people, beggars and vagrants that had slipped past the guards to take shelter within the ancient ruin most likely, moving about, and out into the fallow fields that lay between the ruins and the city walls. Sweat beaded on the king's brow, and a thirst scratched at his throat. Valerius silently raised a wineskin to his lips and drank eagerly.
Valerius had dashed off into the city's ruins to escape from the bustle surrounding his imminent birthday and the end of his regency. There, amidst the remains of the ancients, the king had silently walked and contemplated. For a time, he did nothing but stare up into the sky, letting the overwhelming silence sweep over him until he felt the vast emptiness above was pulling him in. Then, hoping to catch some relief from the heat with a passing breeze, he started to climb.
His solitude did not last for long. A tremor of annoyance flashed across his face as the sound of footsteps grew close. Pushing off the pillar he was leaning against, he turned toward the sound to confront whoever had been following him ever since he had entered the Coliseum, hand reaching for the dirk tucked into his belt.
"Looking for something amongst the ruins?" Elienor Galen said, emerging slowly from out of the nearby shade.
Valerius all but yanked his hand away from the weapon, his mouth opening, but only a stammer managed to roll off his tongue. "N-n-no grandmother. I'm sorry, I was just..."
"Stop fidgeting," Elienor snapped chidingly, drawing closer. The king stared at her. Her hair was now solid white, her face craggy and worn with deep wrinkles. Elienor's shoulders were now stooped, and she walked now only with the help of a cane. Still, a part of Valerius' mind wondered how she had managed to reach the top tier of the ruin...
"And stop groveling too," she added. "You will be king in your own right in a few days, for good or ill. The last thing we need is a king who apologizes like an untrained servant."
"I came here to think," Valerius admitted. "It's too noisy in the city or the palace, someone would always interrupt me."
"You would not be the first Stukov to do so. But what, may I ask, were you thinking about that requires such deep concentration?" Elienor pressed, stepping toward the edge of the tier and resting her hands against the stone wall so she could stare out over the ruined structure.
Valerius did not respond at once, standing with his head held sheepishly low while he nervously searched for a place to keep his hands still. "I'm in love," he said finally. "With a girl."
"I'm glad you saw fit to add in that last detail," Elienor said with her back still to the king.
"A married girl."
Elienor let out a soft sigh. "Better a adulterer than a sodomite. But marriage is hardly a permanent state of affairs. It can always be changed."
"I know," he said unflinchingly. "I was thinking of how to do it."
"Do what?"
"Kill her husband."
Elienor glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Wine has made you bold, Valerius."
"Not quite. I've found that wine has very little influence over me these days," he replied, a predatory smile creeping across his lips. Elienor's stare lingered on him, her eyes flitting about as she appraised him.

She turned back to look down at the Coliseum. "I always thought you might be just another fool," she said. "But I see now that I was wrong. Good, this family cannot afford another fool."
"You would have been a very poor teacher if I hard turned out a failure," he rejoined.
Elienor let out a short, sharp laugh. "Tell me, what is this married woman's name?"
"Her name is Beatriz," he said, relishing the sound of it. "Beatriz Jimenez, daughter of the King of Navarre. She's married to the..."
"I know who Beatriz Jimenez is married to," Elienor interrupted sharply, only for her tone to immediately soften again. "So, why is she so special to you? I trust it is just more than a pretty face and a good figure."
Valerius chuckled. "She's smart. She saw through my mask right away. And it was she who planted the idea of killing her husband. I like a capable woman, and even more I like a woman who knows it."

"Brave of you to marry a woman who strives to see her husband dead," Elienor warned.
"I am aware of the risks," Valerius retorted.
Elienor turned fully to face her grandson, giving him a hard look. "Then why go through with it?"
"Because I love her," he answered without a pause.
His grandmother seemed almost to sag in relief, a faint smile appearing. "That is the best answer you could have given. Let me give you some advice, Valerius, from an old woman whose time is running out. I have served your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Each one of them thought they could shape the world in their image. Alexi was the only one to come close. They all wanted to leave a legacy that would last forever. Understandable, but, ultimately, foolish."
Elienor swept her hand through the air, gesturing toward the whole of the Coliseum. "Look around you. See the legacy of the Romans? Their great empire is nothing but dust and crumbling stone now. Their legacy doesn't speak to us any longer. All we hear from these ruins now is our own words, reflected back as we wish to hear them. And eventually our words will be forgotten as well. So don't try and spend your life building a legacy, because in the end none of it will matter. Just live your life."
Valerius looked at her as if puzzled. "And how does a King just live his life?"
"As he chooses," she replied. "Be King so you will be called great and wise, so mankind will flourish under your rule, so you will become rich from the spoils, so your enemies will be punished. Rule so, on the day you are gone from this world, your children or your grandchildren can sit on the throne secure."
"Don't be king for the sake of dead men," she insisted, her voice cracking, her shoulders slumping slightly forward from the effort of speaking. Valerius continued to watch her, transfixed by the sight of emotion pouring from his grandmother's expression. He did not speak for a long time.
"No," Valerius said tersely and with a dismissively air.
"What?"
"I said no," he repeated, turning back to regard her, jaw set squarely, and his eyes smoldering, malevolent in their intensity. "I will not sit idly by, waiting for death to take me. I will not go meekly into that utter oblivion like my father. I will live forever, yes, forever! Or I will make such a mark on this world that I will never be forgotten!" he shouted, face twisted by an anger that had burned within him since childhood. Elienor gaped in shock, trying to offer up a desperate protest, but Valerius abruptly rose to his feet and stormed off.
When the new King of Rome had gone and Elienor was sure she was alone, the look of desolation on her face vanished, her lips curling upwards triumphantly, eyes narrowing. "Oh, this one will go far. I daresay the world will tremble before him. A pity I won't be around to see it all happen."
Elienor paused, glancing upwards and casting her eyes about as if looking for something. "That is, unless you decide otherwise? Have I earned that right, my lord? No, perhaps not just yet. There is still time for that."