08-12-2016, 11:04 AM
Sheer willpower carried Nikolai at his usual pace as he passed through the Palace corridors. On one hand, he had never been so tired after wielding his power, but on the other never had he felt such exhilaration. The temptation to return to it was strong. To lose himself in that torrent. But to yield himself to it was sure death, he knew the truth of that. But she flirted anyway. He could only smile in return.
He met Marcus, carefully keeping his fatigue from revealing itself to the younger man. Marcus and Michael for that matter would now know the extent of his strength, although they couldn't be sure of it, but neither could ever be aware of his present vulnerability. The Atharim were still waiting. And Aria could come any minute. Nik needed to rest as soon as possible.
The moment he heard Damien's name, he snapped his gaze to Marcus. "You led him here?!"
His voice bit like the jaws of a disturbed dog guarding his home. Anger was rarely revealed, but once it surfaced, it shadowed his features like demons.
He stopped in their tracks, rounding on Marcus. The younger man's physicality was no deterrent to Nikolai's anger. "I am in no shape to receive him! But if I turn him away now, he will know it. That is a weakness we can not afford to let him see. I must be a god before Damien Oakland, or he will never yield to my rule!"
Marcus wasn't a fool. He should have anticipated the consequences of Damien in the Kremlin without all the official state ceremonies usually afforded an ambassador. Unless Marcus did it on purpose. The boy was clever enough. While Nik did not doubt his loyalty, neither did he doubt the need for self preservation. He was like Aria in that regard.
"Bring him to the throne room in Andreyevsky Hall. He will be presented there."
A bold symbol, one that matched the monument outside. Nikolai left Marcus to deal with the logistics of the impromptu ceremony. Meanwhile, Nikolai left him without another word. A father disappointed in his frustrating son.
The hall that he entered was long and narrow. Formerly the Imperial Throne Room, it was still arranged as such - for historical preservation of course. The golden walls glowed in the sunlight streaming through enormous windows on one side. The floors gleamed warm. At the farthest end was an enormous throne set atop a raised dais. A golden sunburst created the seat. But the flags of current empire hung from poles on other side: the left was the CCD Phoenix, sword, and wreath while on the right was the Ascendancy's double crescent.
Nikolai waited alone atop the stairs, longingly looking at the seat behind him. To sit in the former throne of the Tsars was to proclaim himself a king before a foreign ambassador.
But he was more than a king. He was the Ascendancy. A god that did what he pleased in this, his realm. Here, he ruled, and even Damien Oakland would be only another subject to the Dominion.
He sat down, letting the jacket of his suit fall open as he did, and waited for Damien to be presented.
He met Marcus, carefully keeping his fatigue from revealing itself to the younger man. Marcus and Michael for that matter would now know the extent of his strength, although they couldn't be sure of it, but neither could ever be aware of his present vulnerability. The Atharim were still waiting. And Aria could come any minute. Nik needed to rest as soon as possible.
The moment he heard Damien's name, he snapped his gaze to Marcus. "You led him here?!"
His voice bit like the jaws of a disturbed dog guarding his home. Anger was rarely revealed, but once it surfaced, it shadowed his features like demons.
He stopped in their tracks, rounding on Marcus. The younger man's physicality was no deterrent to Nikolai's anger. "I am in no shape to receive him! But if I turn him away now, he will know it. That is a weakness we can not afford to let him see. I must be a god before Damien Oakland, or he will never yield to my rule!"
Marcus wasn't a fool. He should have anticipated the consequences of Damien in the Kremlin without all the official state ceremonies usually afforded an ambassador. Unless Marcus did it on purpose. The boy was clever enough. While Nik did not doubt his loyalty, neither did he doubt the need for self preservation. He was like Aria in that regard.
"Bring him to the throne room in Andreyevsky Hall. He will be presented there."
A bold symbol, one that matched the monument outside. Nikolai left Marcus to deal with the logistics of the impromptu ceremony. Meanwhile, Nikolai left him without another word. A father disappointed in his frustrating son.
The hall that he entered was long and narrow. Formerly the Imperial Throne Room, it was still arranged as such - for historical preservation of course. The golden walls glowed in the sunlight streaming through enormous windows on one side. The floors gleamed warm. At the farthest end was an enormous throne set atop a raised dais. A golden sunburst created the seat. But the flags of current empire hung from poles on other side: the left was the CCD Phoenix, sword, and wreath while on the right was the Ascendancy's double crescent.
Nikolai waited alone atop the stairs, longingly looking at the seat behind him. To sit in the former throne of the Tsars was to proclaim himself a king before a foreign ambassador.
But he was more than a king. He was the Ascendancy. A god that did what he pleased in this, his realm. Here, he ruled, and even Damien Oakland would be only another subject to the Dominion.
He sat down, letting the jacket of his suit fall open as he did, and waited for Damien to be presented.