Second update of the second Epander chapter. Don't really have much more to add here, other than that I've been having a Hell of a time motivating myself to write this month. Writer's block is something that I'll probably talk about in greater length later on, making note also of Steven Pressfield's concept of resistance. In the meantime, I have these pictures here in case you couldn't imagine the man that I describe in this passage. Enjoy.
After some length of torment that he had been vexed with, a man came into the room, a slave to beckon him forth to treat with his master. Epander regarded the man for moments more, noting his curly black hair and beard, luxuriously silky and certainly striking, standing him out as of the Haxanoi, the native peoples who ruled a great empire before Agenor Emikelos took it from them and made it his own. He adorned himself with a some manner of achiton, a robe and shawl which appeared as but a single garment, matching a tall cylindrical hat, all in a pale red, all bordered with silk of gold. In addition he wore large hooped earrings of gold and a great hooping necklace just the same, both matching the ornamental dagger which he wore at his belt, the handle and scabbard of gold and adorned with gems. This man that they had sent to him was not a slave after all.
The Haxanoi gave an obeisant bow which to him seemed exaggerated. Perhaps all within the capital acted as such, giving their courtesies with such vigour, they hide the malice behind gritted smiles, stretched as wide as could be. The man rose back up to his full stature and spake such, “It is this one’s pleasure to give greetings unto you, Epander Theophilos of Khatria. It is also this one’s honour to introduce himself as Kaveh Kshaeta, of a long and noble family of the Haxansiya, for centuries we have flourished. If you might accompany me, I will bring you to one of the preeminent members of the Basileus’s circle, Miltiades Nikandros. It is he who shall determine your worth.”
Epander stood quite abruptly at this point, and it was fortunate that this man has stopped speaking, lest that he seemed discourteous. He may have distaste for the behaviors of the court that he was amongst, but it was disadvantageous for him to upset it so greatly. He stood up suddenly, taking his retinue off-guard, but they all rose just as he did, albeit apprehensively. “Very well, Kaveh Kshaeta. Show me to Miltiades Nikandros.” He said nothing more. His distaste bled through his words, rather than to remain in his veins, where it belonged.
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