Well, I almost forgot to put this post up. For those of you outside of North Carolina (or the US southeast in general), we're having a sweeping snowstorm which is really nice for just staying in and relaxing. However, this is also being problematic for my moving tomorrow, which may not happen due to the snow. Between that and having trouble with setting up utilities, I might not be able to post this Sunday. But fear not, brave readers! Where I am able, I shall bring forth more things of me having written stuff.
Also, I just sort of noticed how many scenes that I have where people are naked. I don't think anyone is naked in this chapter, but there's at least a half dozen chapters which involve nudity. Also, only one of them involves any kind of sexual activity. [edit: two] I guess I just like to write about people dressing and doing things in the nude.
Miltiades upon the introduction strode round the massive map and brought himself up to Epander, clasping his hand to his opposite’s wrist, gripping his other hand upon his shoulder. His voice was somewhat hushed but somehow still had weight to it as he said, “Welcome then, Epander, to Aigaios on the Oxis. I trust your journey your journey was well?”
Epander smiled, almost wishing that he had to force it, but the smirk upon the other man’s face was contagious, or so it seemed, “As much so as could be, but the rigors of the road compare as naught against the comforts of the hearth; I trust you understand. But here at last I am, and nothing else remains.”
Miltiades clapped his hand once on Epander’s shoulder with a brusque laugh and then disengaged himself from him and began to walk back towards a table near the map and poured two cups, saying whilst he did so, “Most persons would have spat instinctively that they would have been ‘fine’ or ‘good.’ However, I suppose that most do not travel long distances away from their homesteads to become a courtier.” He held out a cup and inquired, “Why have you come so far from your kinsfolk to this service?”
Epander took the cup and promptly a swallow. It was mulled, the naturally sweet and bitter of the wine cut with spices, and was actually quite good. Surprisingly, it was not diluted. None of the men here seemed inebriated, so it was likely for flavor rather than refreshment. He replied, “Why does any man leave more honest professions for the ars politica, but to set aside himself as a service to his kinsfolk, to see that change needs to be wrought and act as that instrument of reform?”
The Strategos’s eyes glimmered as he casually chuckled; they glowed with divine knowledge, or so it would appear. So much tension, so much apprehension, it was all devoted to those individuals who held false façades as masks to hide away intention, but never would Epander have guessed that who he had need dread were not these as aforementioned, but those who veiled themselves behind only their own honesty, those who had nothing to hide. This man was dangerous, it was clear to see.
“Naïve idealism, it would seem, is what brought you here. Your words, nay, your idealism is flowered and honeyed, but I cannot yet tell if for its own sake or to hide the bitter stench of decay.” Miltiades swallowed a long yet shallow sip from his cup, only to approach abutting to Epander, looming over imposingly with a look of nothing short of malice glowering from his eyes. “If your intentions substantiate as anything less than pure, I will know. Remember this well, Epander Theophilos: my eyes are never given the dispensation of cessation, I am always watching.”
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