Oc X Shapur - Tumblr Posts

Heronie of the slaves - Song of fire and sand "I See you in another way"

Shapur (Pars Era 310)

Shapur (Pars Era 310)

Marzban of Pars, loyal, sharp, ambitious, hot-headed.

A man who at the age of 24 received from the king the highest rank in the Parsian military.  A man who obeyed the rules and never broke them or shaped them to his will.  A man who cared for his subordinates but also a man who knew that in war he would have to sacrifice them in order to achieve victory. 

Shapur was a man who would never question the authority and the decisions of the king and he would defend this decision with all his might against outsiders.  Even if he disagreed, because Shapur Marzban of Pars was loyal. Loyal to the royal family, loyal to the king of Pars.  His comrades would call him an idealist, even uptight.  If he was saw in a bar or a brothel with them after a battle and rejected any approach of a woman.  After two cups of wine he already excused himself and retreated to his chambers.  Such was Shapur Marzban of Pars, that was what his men, his comrades said of him. 

But for Kayra he was more than that:

Kayra could see the sides of Shapur that his comrades, his men, the royal family, even the sides that his brother Isfan did not know.  But Kayra knew them 

She knew the small wrinkles around his eyes when the first sunlight fell on his still sleeping face, softening his striking features.  His black hair, which fell like fine silk over his shoulders and shimmered in the light.  His gentle smile, which he gave her when he noticed how she watched him sleeping. 

His amused smile when he lowered his eyes and shook his head slightly when Kayra told him about a book she had just finished reading. His caring smile when Isfan played in the garden pretending to be a great warrior. 

Kayra knew that Shapur was loyal, he was loyal to those he loved, to the people he cared about.  Shapur was less loyal to the king of Pars than to his own people.  But she also knew how afraid he was of losing the people he loved.  The fear of incurring the wrath of the royal family by a thoughtless act, a thoughtless word, and losing everything.  Not his title, not his castle, not his money, but the fear of losing the people he loved. 

That is why Shapur kept his opinion to himself, that is why he rarely criticized the king's decisions.  Kayra knew this, Kayra knew his thoughts, knew his concerns. She knew that Shapur often spent nights hanging over the king's orders, she saw the deep wrinkles that stretched across his face and looked like deep gorges in the light of the burning candles.  Gloomy and frightening

She saw the deep circles under his eyes, the tired look when he looked for another strategy for the repeated time.  A strategy that would be less risky and require fewer lives, a strategy to convince the king to deviate from his plans.  Kayra knew he was doing this in secret, without much fuss, and without ever getting credit for it.  He did it so that the king would save face and so that he would know the ones he loved were safe. Yes, Kayra knew this side of him and many more.  She knew that sometimes he was hard on her and Isfan because he wanted to protect them.  Protect them from the cruel world that ruled behind the high walls of the fortress.

He did not want them to see the things he had seen, to be forced to do the things he had done. He would never admit this to anyone, but Kayra knew, she knew because he had told her himself. 

One night when it all came crashing down on him, one night when the deep circles under his eyes took their toll.  On a night when Shapur Marzban of Pars looked not like a young man of just 28 years, but like a man who carried the weight of the world on his own shoulders.  A man who had seen too much and done too many things to ever be forgiven for them.  Kayra knew this side, the fragile side, the side when his eyes didn't shine with drive and determination, the side when he didn't look at her lovingly and tenderly brush a strand of hair behind his ear with his fingers. 

The side when he didn't hold her protectively in his strong arms on the cold winter nights. She knew the side of him that was afraid, the side that knew despair.  Kayra knew that some nights he could not sleep, the nights when he came secretly to her chamber.  On those nights he didn't speak, he just stand at the edge of her bed as if to make sure she wouldn't just disappear. Sometimes when Kayra woke up, she would move a little in her narrow bed and he would lie down with her.  He would hold her tightly, as if she would vanish into thin air at any moment, as if she had never existed. 

Kayra knew all too well how stubborn Shapur could be, but she also knew how much compassion he could feel for someone.  She knew how hot-headed he could be at times and how insightful he was when he had had time to review all the arguments.  Yes Kayra knew that Shapur was like a little insecure boy when he apologized and how relieved he could be when he was forgiven. 

Even if his comrades did not see these sides of him, she saw them. She knew that after a battle he did not party until the early hours of the morning, which did not mean that he slept. No, he would stay at his workplace until the early hours of the morning and write letters to the families of the fallen soldiers.  Over the years these were many letters and many fallen, but she knew how important it was to Shapur that the soldiers he commanded were not just numbers or faces lost in the crowd. 

They too had families, parents, siblings, lovers, children.  They now had to deal with this loss, while for him it simply went on. Kayra did not know if this letter helped those left behind or if they would ever receive it, but she also knew that it was more for Shapur.  It was his way of dealing with the loss of people he himself had sent to their deaths.  Shapur knew how quickly life could be over, how quickly one wrong decision could cost the lives of hundreds, even thousands of people.

He knew it and he knew that Kayra knew it.  Kayra also knew why he rejected the women who wooed him.  She knew the women who threw themselves at him, it was not only the rich and fine ladies who were taken in by his reserved and friendly manner.  No, it was also the prostitutes who waited for the men in the bars and brothels to give them a little pleasure after a battle won or a hard day on the training ground.

Kayra knew that Shapur rejected her, all of them.  Shapur was loyal, not only loyal to the royal family, not only loyal to his men.  No, he was loyal to her  A simple farmer's daughter who had been sold into slavery, he was loyal to her because she knew how precious his time with her and Isfan was, how he soaked up every happy moment, how with every laugh his worries disappeared a little bit more. 

Kayra knew this and she also knew that she was his anchor, even if he had never told her this, but she knew it. She knew so much about Shapur Marzban of Pars and for this reason she could tell him.  For this reason and many more she could tell him  "I see you in a different way than you ever could" and his astonished face, his incredulous smile, the eyes which he cast down and then he laugh out loud only to take her in his arms and steal a secret kiss that was for only for her 

For Kayra this was Shapur, Marzban of Pars.

Heronie of the slaves - Song of fire and sand "For me you will always be a queen"

"For me you will always be a queen"

Kayra was a beautiful women  But for Shapur she was so much more

Kayra (Pars Era 321)

To describe Kayra was not easy: 

She was like the desert wind, which danced around and which you could never get hold of.  Sometimes gentle and quiet, sometimes merciless and loud.  Her voice was like a gentle spring rain, which was refreshing to the skin and made you pause for a moment.  She was gentle and loving, good at listening and giving advice. She was like the sea on a calm day, light, playful and beautiful.  Her red hair was reminiscent of the Parsi roses that bloomed in the royal garden.  Her green eyes shone like the lush forests of eastern Pars.

Narsus described her as perceptive.  Daryun as an equal comrade.  Elam and Alfreed would call her a loving elder sister.  Farangis saw her as a strong friend.  Gieve recognized not only her outer beauty, but also her inner beauty and saw her as a confidante.  For Jaswant she was an ally against the hostilities.  Prince Arslan would call her the sun, warm and full of hope, a patient teacher and confidante.  For Isfan she was like a sister and a mother at the same time.

Shapur knew this to be true of Kayra, but he knew more: 

He knew that her gentle voice, which was like a spring rain, could also be like a summer thunderstorm.  A thunderstorm that could arise so fast and pass away just as quickly. 

He knew that the calm sea that glistened gently in the sun also had its shallows  Shoals that he could never fully fathom, shoals that could capsize a ship.  Like the sea, Kayra could become stormy and cause any ship to crash on the cliffs, only to become calm and gentle again in the next moment.  Shapur knew that just like roses, she had her thorns and could not be plucked easily.  She could be passionate and impetuous, like the desert wind and her green eyes so deep that if you were not careful you could get lost in their deep green, almost like in the dark forests. 

Shapur knew all this and much more. 

He knew of her demons deep in her heart that came out at night and robbed her of sleep.  He also knew that he was guilty of those demons, he knew of the scars she hid on her back.  Scars that were not only on the outside but on the inside as well.  Scars that he was to blame for and scars that she tried to hide from everyone.  Shapur knew that Kayra was no longer a young girl, but a woman. A woman who had fought her way and not backed down, he could see the scars on her hands.  Hands that had fought for their own survival and that of others. The same hands that he had held so often in years past and that so often wandered through his hair in the morning.  Hands that now held a weapon and tended the wounded, hands that gently cupped his own and were stained red with the blood of the wounded.  Shapur knew she did not blame him, but he blamed himself. He blamed himself for the lost time, for his hesitation and for his naive behavior.  Kayra did not, for this was another side of a side that never looked back and looked forward. The side of her that Shapur always admired, the side that always put one step before the next and the side that dreamed of a better tomorrow. 

Shapur knew that he could not protect her, not from the cruel world he saw every day.  But he also saw that she was not broken by it but stronger than before. He knew how stubborn she could be and how much she hated to lose, how much she fought for her ideals and lost sight of many things.  Shapur knew this and he knew much more.  He knew how quickly she could be hurt if her trust was broken and he also knew that it was hard to regain that trust.  Shapur knew this and much more, he knew Kayra's peculiarities. 

He knew that she had never liked her laughter before, because she always grunted a little bit.  He knew how much she hated thunderstorms and how much she loved the smell of freshly baked bread.  He knew that her hair smelled of lavender and lemons and that she loved the time of almond blossoms. 

He knew her countless freckles.  He knew the small scar on her right iliac crest that Isfan had inflicted on her when he had played with a bow and arrow as a young boy.

Shapur knew that Kayra also read books late into the night to increase her knowledge to become better at helping people.  He knew a lot about her and he saw many sides of her.

But he did not know all sides of her, not anymore.  Some were still there, visible to all, some were hidden and some where gone a long time ago.  But for Shapur, Kayra would always be special. 

No matter if the simple peasant girl, the slave, the warrior, the healer.  For Shapur Kayra was a queen, his queen for whom he would fight and to whom he was loyal so.

Shapur could say "no matter how you see yourself for me you will always be a queen" and her loving smile that put little dimples in her face and her green eyes sparkling like emeralds showed him that he would never know all her sides, but that was ok for him.

"that's just the way he is and that's why I love him."  

Kubard hated it, he hated it when someone criticized him for something that wasn't wrong. He hated it when people thought he was stupid or that he never thought about his actions. He hated it and especially hated it when the person was Shapur. Ever since they knew each other, Kubard couldn't shake off the feeling that Shapur looked down on him. Maybe because he thought he was better than him or because he was the illegitimate son of a bandit, Kubard didn't know. He would claim that he didn't care, but Kubard was no liar. However, if he was honest, he and Shapur would probably never get along. But sometimes these views can change over a jug of wine or two, and with a little help Kubard might understand Shapur a little better. 

Peshawar Citadel, Pars Era 321

"This was stupid, impulsive and risky" Shapur's sharp words cut across the courtyard of Peshawar. Torches lit up the area in front of the great main gate, where until moments ago the Turanian army had laid siege to the citadel. The night sky was covered with dark clouds, which barely let a ray of moonlight through. In this pitch-black night, the Turanian army had tried to enter the Peshawar fortress. Fortunately, the Parsi army, under the leadership of Crown Prince Arslan and thanks to the foresight of Narsus, had been prepared. 

Nevertheless, it was not easy for the soldiers to keep the enemy army at bay. The Turanian horsemen, had hidden in the darkness of the night and ambushed the soldiers. The young Lord Zaravant had also been caught, and only through the quick intervention of Daryun and Kishward, the lord of the fortress, could he be brought into the protective castle. 

It had been grueling and the men, who fought under the command of Daryun, Kishward and Shapur, at the gates of the citadel had been defenseless against the enemy. Only through a trick and the intervention of Kubard had the Parsians been able to achieve victory. 

But this was not seen by all present. On the contrary, Shapur was furious, not to say pissed off. 

In the glow of his reddish torches he now stood in front of Kubard, who only stared at him tiredly and annoyed from above. Shapur, at six feet tall, was certainly not small in stature. But Kubard towered over him by almost a full foot. Any other human would have avoided any confrontation with the one-eyed giant due to the size difference alone, but not Shapur. 

"What are you all so upset about?" Kubard asked, bored, scratching his three-day beard. "You know exactly what I'm upset about" hissed Shapur, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Kubard eyed his counterpart more closely, Shapur seemed genuinely upset, Kubard could tell by his malingering jaw and deep frown lines. Also by his right index finger, which seemed to twitch nervously. Kubard sighed resignedly and then shrugged his shoulders "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're getting at" he replied calmly, because if he was honest he really didn't know. But Kubard should have known better. He should have just agreed with Shapur and left it at that. But that's not who he was, and if he was going to be accused of something, Kubard at least wanted to know why. 

"Are you really serious?" Shapur gritted his teeth in frustration and looked sharply at Kubard. In this dark night with only the flickering shadows of the burning fires, Shapur looked like a wild animal already making for the attack. 

"Brother please let it be" whispered Isfan, grabbing his older brother by the arm to calm him down. 

"Don't you tell me what to do" Shapur's voice thundered across the courtyard, making everyone present cringe. The soldiers, who until recently had been watching the scene between the two Marzban, hastily retreated. Even the moans and groans of the wounded seemed to fall silent. Shapur turned to his younger brother and glared angrily at him. Even though Isfan was a little taller than his older brother, under his angry gaze he suddenly felt like a ten-year-old who had been caught trying to steal cookies. 

"As for your behavior, we'll talk about it later," Shapur hissed between clenched teeth, and Isfan looked guiltily to the side. 

"Don't you think you're going a little too far?" Kubard asked, looking thoughtfully at Isfan, who looked aside, concerned, to avoid his brother's gaze. "I'm going too far?" Shapur wheeled around angrily "your behavior almost cost hundreds of lives, this advance was rash and arrogant, if you're already out for glory then" "Wait a minute" Kubard interrupted Shapur's moral lecture and took a step closer to his counterpart. "From my point of view, the offense stalled and that's why I decided to intervene. We would have lost the hundred men sooner if you had continued this stalling, tactic." "You disregarded the existing strategy with your intervention and brought unrest to the troops. We had everything under control out there until you showed up and acted like a wild ox." "You dare insult me?" Growled Kubard and his sword hand twitched menacingly "no I'm not insulting you" replied Shapur "I'm just telling the truth." Kubard gritted his teeth and ground his jaw, he clenched his right hand into a fist and raised his arm. Shapur also shifted his weight and prepared to ward off the coming blow. 

"That's enough!" A voice thundered across the court, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a sword stroke. Kubard lowered his fist in astonishment and Shapur also loosened his stance. 

The men's eyes wandered to the other side of the courtyard, in the direction where the makeshift hospital was being set up. A young woman approached the three men. She had tied her red hair into a loose knot, from which occasional strands came loose and framed her face with its many freckles. The glow of the torches was reflected in her green eyes. She wore linen pants with a short sword attached to her right hip. As she approached, she wiped her hands on a cloth that was already red with the blood of the wounded. 

Kubard had already noticed the young woman at the Battle of St. Emmanuel, when she had tended to the injured soldiers. She was from Prince Arslan's retinue and Kubard had heard a few stories about her, but he had not yet the opportunity to speak with her personally. However, he had already heard her name from the other men. 

Kayra stopped in front of them and looked sharply at Kubard and Shapur before turning to Isfan. "Lord Zaravant has regained consciousness. Apparently the healing herbs are kicking in. I think you should go check on him." Isfan seemed relieved at her words, and with a quick nod of his head, the young man turned and disappeared across the courtyard into the fortress. 

Shapur and Kubard watched him go, each avoiding eye contact with the other.

Kayra sighed "I've treated enough wounded in the last few weeks" she began, looking back and forth between the two men, each still avoiding eye contact with the other. "I think the Turanian army has already given us enough injured soldiers tonight, then we don't need another fight between friends inside the walls." Kubard scratched the back of his head "mmh there is some truth to that" he grumbled and looked at Shapur. The black haired Marzban was still standing in front of him with his arms crossed, but his look seemed less gloomy and upset "as you say" was his curt reply addressed to Kayra and Kubard was almost willing to retort with a biting comment that he should be a bit friendlier with a beautiful woman when he noticed the smile on Kayra's face. 

To Kubard it seemed like an understanding, almost affectionate smile, was there any truth to the rumors that circulated among the soldiers?  

"Lord Daryun and her majesty the crown prince would like to speak to you" Kayra began to address Shapur again "they are waiting for you at the wall by the big main gate" Shapur mumbled something unintelligible, which sounded like a thank you, then he turned around and disappeared across the courtyard in the direction of the main gate. 

Kubard stood a little puzzled and watched Shapur disappear into the darkness of the fortress, he noisily let the air out of his lungs and then shook his head in disbelief "you think he's ungrateful, don't you?" Kayra asked in a soft voice and the Marzban looked at the young woman who was also looking in the direction Lord Shapur had disappeared. "Mmh" Kubard just grumbled and ran the flat of his hand over his face "ungrateful, mmh maybe more like stubborn, intransigent, straightforward but in a bad way" "you mean rule-loving?" she asked. "Yes maybe" he paused "he's a good fighter and besides Daryun probably the only one I consider his equal but" "but you don't understand how he can always live by the rules and never take a risk?" Kayra asked him amused and Kubard looked at her in amazement. 

"You know Lord Kubard I think you and I should have a talk, I think we will get along wonderfully. How about I buy you a mug of wine?" This statement now completely blew Kubard's mind, this woman was really interesting, but in a different way than the women he had known so far. He watched as she untied the knot from her hair, the red curls falling over her shoulders, dancing around her face like little flames. "A jug of wine in the company of a beautiful woman? That's an offer I can hardly refuse." He said, and his laughter thundered across the court of Peshawar. 

The tavern in the cellar vault of the citadel was of low ceiling height, so Kubard had to duck his head at his height. The wine barrels were lined up against a long stone wall, in front of which stood a long wooden counter with wooden stools. A few tables were scattered around the room, with only the occasional soldier still sitting at them, drinking their wine and talking in hushed voices. 

Kayra nodded briefly to the innkeeper as they entered, a short man of slender build and shaggy white hair. He returned the nod before turning, pulling an earthenware jug from under the counter, and filling it with wine from one of the barrels. Kayra sat down on a stool, at the other end of the counter, Kubard taking a seat next to hers. 

The innkeeper joined them with two mugs and the filled jug of wine in his hand. The redhead placed a few coins on the wooden counter and accepted the jug. The innkeeper thanked her with a nod of his head, took the coins and went back to the other end of the counter, where he continued cleaning mugs with a cloth. 

Kayra handed Kubard one of the two mugs and raised her "Here's to putting the Turans to flight!" she said and took a sip. Kubard raised his cup as well and took as well a sip, the wine burning pleasantly in his throat and feeling very invigorating after the long and rather cold night. 

"So Lord Kubard, what do you want to know?" Asked the young woman suddenly, snapping Marzban out of his thoughts. Somewhat irritated, he looked at her, her green eyes twinkling with amusement and small dimples had formed on her cheeks as another smile played around her mouth. Kubard was caught completely off guard for a brief moment. Kayra laughed out loud at the sight of the baffled man, which only made Kubard more so at that moment. More confused. For one thing, a woman had never, and by that he meant never, laughed at him, and for another, Kayra, quite unlike in his imagination, did not have an angelic laugh. 

No her laugh was rather deep and raspy and was accompanied by small grunting noises in between. If Kubard had not witnessed this laughter himself at that moment, he would not believe that this laughter belonged to the young woman next to him and yet, this laughter was contagious and before he knew it, his own thunderous laughter echoed through the cellar vault. The other soldiers and even the innkeeper looked irritated as their collective laughter echoed through the tavern and filled the entire room. 

Slowly Kayar and Kubard calmed down again and each took another big gulp from their cups. Kayra was the first to speak again "so what do you want to know?" She asked again, looking expectantly at the Marzban. The latter scratched his chin a little sheepishly before he began to speak "well," he began "say, are the rumors I herar about you true?" 

He looked at her expectantly and eyed her more closely. She was young, not too young, her features were too mature for that. Kubard guessed that Kayra and he must be about the same age. She was clearly not twenty years more, but certainly not at the end of her thirties, she lacked the wrinkles for that. 

So she must be in her early thirties, like him. 

"I'll be thirty-one this winter," she said, as if she could tell by Kubard's look that he was trying to classify her age, "so we're not far apart," she added, winking mischievously. She took another sip of the wine before setting the cup down and refilling it for herself and Kubard. 

"Your question is very" she began to address again "very imprecise. From what I gather there are many rumors about me, some were others are a bit," she tilted her head and seemed to be thinking "very fanciful I would think." She set the cup again and took another sip. "If you mean the rumor that I am a mage, then that rumor is true. However, I do not eat children, nor do I bring any offerings there. That falls more into the realm of black magic. If you mean the rumor that I am a former slave, then this is also true and yes I served in the household of Lord Shapur at that time. I can also assure you that I am well versed in the art of healing and medicine, I also speak seven different languages. By the way, the rumor that I turn men to stone is also not true." 

"And the rumor about you and Shapur?" Asked Kubard "which one? That I was his lover or that we were engaged?" Kayra asked back, but before Kubard could say anything back she was already talking. 

"Both rumors are true. We were once lovers, we tried to keep it a secret as best we could but among the other slaves it was an open secret. Many thought I was simply his concubine, but that was not the case. When I turned twenty-one he asked me if I would become his wife. I was naive enough to say yes, but it turned out to be a big mistake. You think Shapur doesn't like you because of your lineage, don't you? Because you are the son of a bandit, but I can assure you that is not the case. Shapur used to believe that everyone could achieve something through hard work and that this should not be the privilege of the nobles only." "But" Kubard continued but fell silent when he noticed Kayra's head shake. 

"Shapur seems to be a supporter of the existing system on the outside, but deep down he detests it. It is a system that almost cost his brother his life. A system that condemned Isfan's mother to death for no reason, just because she was a slave." Sadness settled over her face and she clutched her cup a little tighter. "I heard about the story. Shapur saved his brother then, didn't he?" "Yes he did. He set off alone into the mountains to look for him. His mother Lady Ziba arranged for Ashina to be thrown out then. She abandoned her and Isfan in the mountains. I think Shapur has not forgiven her to this day." Kubard looked silently into his cup, when he became Marzban then he had heard the story about Shapur's brother but had not known that he was the son of a slave. 

"Lord Kubard" Kayra returned her attention to the one-eyed soldier "you said that Shapur was stubborn, undiscerning and straightforward in a bad way and rules in love. I agree with you, but you must know that this is only a facade behind which he hides. Behind this facade he is less uptight, he does a lot with himself alone, which is why he often seems stubborn and perhaps aloof." 

She smiled dreamily "he used to retreat to his study and spend time there working until late at night, sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. He always tried to find a solution to everything on his own because he didn't want to burden others with his problems. He can sometimes be strict and exaggerates in some things but only because he wants you to be prepared for the world that is waiting for you out there. Yes, it is true that he likes to follow rules because he believes that this involves less risk. But he also knows that sometimes it is necessary to break or circumvent the rules, but when he does so, he does so in secret without making a fuss." Kubard listened in silence, when the redhead had finished he looked thoughtfully into his cup, which was empty by now. Kayra noticed this and poured them both another drink before ordering another mug from the innkeeper. 

The tavern had emptied in the meantime and only the two of them sat at the wooden bar. It had become quiet and only the crackling of torches on the wall and the clattering of mugs, which the innkeeper collected from the tables, filled the room. Normally Kubard hated silence, especially in a bar. It was too easy to be tempted to indulge in his own dark thoughts. But at that moment, the silence was comfortable, and he wondered if it had something to do with the young woman's presence. 

“Shapur has taken risked in his life, he has spoken out loud, he trusts his instincts and followed his gut feeling. Sadly, he has lost already three important people as a result.” The young woman smiled slightly "you think he always criticizes you because you are the son of a bandit, don't you?" 

The Marzban nodded in agreement "but maybe it's because you are the disciple of Lord Mert?" 

"You knew Lord Mert?" Kubard was surprised to hear the name of his old teacher. Lord Mert was a Marzban of Pars in his time, and it was he who had taken the young Kubard under his wing and trained him. However, he died almost twenty years ago. "How did you know Lord Mert?" He asked in surprise "I knew him because I worked in his household, which became Shapur's household after his death." "Wait a minute Lord Mert was" "he was Lord Shapur's uncle" she answered his question. Kubard was surprised, even caught off guard, but thinking about it he suddenly realized the similarities Shapur had with his former teacher. The facial features, the laugh, the serious look, even his fighting techniques. Kubard suddenly felt foolish that he had not noticed these similarities earlier. "Lord Mert died almost twenty-one years ago I was just ten years old. Shapur had already been in the army for two years, under the command of his uncle. Back in the battle of Gilan, when the troops from Misr marched in there," she paused and it seemed that she was searching for the right words. 

"I don't know all the details, but back then Lord Mert lost his life in that battle. Shapur never really talked about it, but he once told me that he and his youthful recklessness were responsible for his uncle's death. I didn´t think that this is true but Shapur has always been critical of himself. You must know he was always closer to his uncle than to his father or even his mother. By the time Lord Mert died, his younger brother, Shapur's father, was already dead. Since there were no descendants, Shapur inherited all of his uncle's possessions. However, he did not want them. His plan had been to manage everything until Isfan was old enough to take over. He never wanted to live the life of a noble, he always said that this life was like a golden cage. So, he didn´t feel worthy enough to inherit the title of his uncle. He was rebellious against his mother and against the system. Much to his mother's displeasure. So she wanted to get rid of Isfan and his mother and had them taken to the mountains. You already know the end. After that, he swore never to break rules again and to act as he was expected to. Straightforward, loyal and locked to others, so that he lets as few people as possible into his life that he can then lose." 

Kayra drank the last sip of wine from her cup and smiled slightly at Kubard.

Kubard didn't know exactly how to react, he realized how little he knew about the Marzban. All these years, he thought Shapur was just buttoned up or would avoid him because of his origins, but that was not the case. 

He also took one last sip before setting the cup down in front of him. He propped his forearms on the counter. Silence reigned between them for a while, and each pursued his own thoughts. After some time Kubard turned to Kayra "you just said that Shapur had lost three people" "mhm" "but you only mentioned two" "yes the third person" Kayra said, playing with her empty cup in front of her. She looked thoughtful "you know even though Shapur swore never to break rules again there was one person he was ready to break all the rules he knows and leave everything behind. His title as Marzban, his lands, his property as this he wanted to give up but also the person died. She died nine years ago." "Who was this person?" Kubard wanted to know, Kayra just smiled sadly before answering him "Me". 

It was getting late when Kubard and Kayra walked through the deserted corridors of Peshawar. Kubard had offered to escort Kayra to her chambers, to his own surprise without ulterior motives. Perhaps because he knew that Kayra already belonged to another man, or perhaps because he knew that Kayra was one of the few women, he had met so far who seemed to show no interest in him. 

Both had been silent the whole way, the moon was still hidden behind the clouds and so only sporadic torches lit the way to the different quarters. Kubard was the first to speak again, "I'm not sure if Shapur and I will ever get along, but I think I understand him a little better now." "I think you two are more friends than either of you want to admit." Kubard snorted loudly before scratching his head "we'll see" he muttered. 

As they both turned the next corner, they stopped in surprise. In front of them stood Shapur. He looked slightly irritated when he saw Kubard together with Kayra. "there you are" he spoke and came towards them. Despite the dim light, Kayra could see the deep wrinkles in his face "I was looking for you" Shapur stopped in front of Kayra and looked at her. She smiled slightly and grabbed him by the upper arm "you look tired" she noted, Shapur expelled his breath noisily and grabbed the root of his nose "yes" he whispered softly "a little" and looked back at the woman in front of him. A clearing throat made them both move around, Kubard stood a little apart  of them and looked a little embarrassed "I think you're in safe hands now" he said and winked at Kayra "I'm going to hit the hay now too." With an exaggerated yawn Kubard turned around to leave. "Thanks Kubard" Kubard stopped and turned slightly, Shapur stood a little in front of Kayra. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, the one-eyed Marzban smiled briefly "you're welcome" he spoke and made his way to his sleeping chamber. 

Shapur was most certainly not as simple minded as he always thought. A smile played around the corners of his mouth as he thought of Kayra's words "that's just the way he is and that's why I love him."

Heroine of the slaves - Song of fire and sand "in the meadow of hope many fools graze"

Warning:

Mention of death and blood

Hope does not always have to be an individual's conviction that something will turn out well. Rather, it seems to be the certainty that everything makes some kind of sense. But sometimes people are also afraid to hope and for Kayra, after Atropathene, hope is like a strong pull that holds her tight and does not want to let her go. A grip against which she tries to fight with all her might. But perhaps it is hope that keeps her fighting for a better future, and some dawns can bring surprising insights and visitors. 

The smell of blood and burnt wood was in the air, the screams of the villagers echoed across the small market place in the middle of the village. No one had heard the bandits coming. Silently they had crept up to the village, under the cover of the forest. Women and children screamed, the men tried to defend themselves with what they had against the intruders. But the bandits were more experienced, better equipped and more brutal.

The farmers' shovels, hooks and pitchforks were made for working in the fields, not for defending themselves. One by one, they were cut down by the arrows and sword strokes of the attackers. The crying of the children and the pleading of the women increased. Some of them were taken into the forest, others were slaughtered in their homes or burnt alive. The acrid stench of death hung over the entire village. Why the bandits attacked this remote village, close to the mountain range, no one knew. The villagers were peaceful people and had barely enough to make ends meet. None of them were rich and even the jewellery some of the women wore was not worth attacking this village. 

Kayra did not know why all this was happening and she did not know what to do. She only knew that she was going to die, just like her parents had just died. Her father had sent her and her mother into the house and ordered them to hide in the small cellar under the house floor in the living room. But before he could lock the door, the bandits had already entered their house. Kayra had wondered how the bandits had managed to get to her house so quickly. Although the village was not large, her family's house was at the other end of the village. But before Kayra could finish that thought, a sword blade flashed and severed her father's jugular. Her mother's scream went right to Kayra's bones, and her father stood frozen before he grabbed his neck in horror and fell to the ground with a gasp. The loud thud as he hit the wooden floor was something Kayra would never forget in her life. Her father's form twitched briefly before he lay motionless. 

Kayra felt her body go rigid, her thoughts racing, but she couldn't get hold of any of them. She wanted to run away but her legs would not obey her. 

Her mother's scream made her flinch again. She rushed at the bandits, the knife that had been on the dining table a few moments ago was now pointed at the three bandits at the door. "Murderer!" her mother cried, reaching out with her hand to plunge the knife into the first man's chest. Deep down Kayra knew that this was futile, but for a moment hope flared in her to get out alive and escape this massacre. 

But her hope was shattered, like a mirror falling to the floor and shattering into a thousand tiny shards. 

With a single movement of his hand, the man repelled her mother's attack and pushed her away. Her body crashed against the stone hearth and before she had regained her composure, the man standing next to Kayra's father's body plunged his sword into her abdomen. 

Kayra's mother made a strangled sound, her eyes moving over to where her daughter stood. Her gaze was full of fear and desperation "run" was all that came from her lips before the man pulled the sword from her abdomen. With a loud smacking sound, the sword slid from the wound, her mother's gaze where still on Kayra. With trembling legs and one hand on her wound, she moved towards her "run" she spoke again, but quieter this time. Her voice was barely more than a breath "can we finally end this?" Asked the third man, who until now had only stood by the door and watched the goings-on. With a few steps he had reached Kayra's mother, with a quick movement he rammed his sword into her back. Kayra could only watch as her mother let out a strangled scream. Blood came out of her mouth and her eyes rolled back before her body fell limply to the ground. 

"So little one" the man spoke "you will come with us." Before Kayra knew what was happening to her the man grabbed her hair and pulled her towards the door "set the house on fire" he ordered the other two and pushed Kayra through the door in front of him. 

"Fight back" she whispered "fight back. Take the knife that lies on the floor." But it was to no avail, Kayra could only watch as the men took her nine-year-old self out of the house and to the horses. Here gaze dropped down to her feet where a pool of blood had formed. The blood of her parents. She could still see herself looking back, helpless, frightened, and full of fear. She still saw her mother, with the last of her strength, pronounce her name one last time before her brown eyes became dark and lifeless. 

She could do nothing, not then and not now. Just as then, she was condemned to simply stand by and do nothing. If she had known then what future awaited her, would she have acted differently? If she had known that she was the only survivor and that slavery would be sold, would she have run?

Pars era 320, 100 farsangs east of Ecbatana, near the great continental route and 20 farsangs west of Gurgan.

Startled, Kayra roused from her sleep. She felt her breathing rapid and irregular and her clothes sticking uncomfortably to her body. That dream again, she thought in frustration, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. She felt herself shivering and cold sweat standing on her forehead. She had dreamt again of the day her parents had been murdered and again she had been a silent spectator, unable to do or change anything. 

But could she change anything? Her parents were dead and even if in the dream she had the power to change something, to resist or even to run away, in the end even that would only be a dream and when she woke up her parents would still be dead. 

The cry of an owl made her flinch. Her heart still racing wildly, she took three deep breaths and then let the breath out slowly through her mouth. Slowly her mind and her heart gradually calmed down. 

Kayra looked around, the fire in the centre of the little cave had burnt down a little, yet it would still hold until daybreak. She didn't seem to have woken any of the others. 

Her gaze wandered to the other side of the cave where Prince Arslan slept. His features looked relaxed, and his chest rose and fell evenly. A little away from him, Narsus and Elam slept, Farangis lay a little away from herself, to her left, she too seemed to continue sleeping. Kayra looked towards the entrance of the cave, where on the right side Gieve was leaning against the stone rock, snoring a little. 

Kayra raised her eyebrows sceptically - a womaniser who snored, she would definitely point that out to him, the next time he tried to flirt. 

Kayra exhaled in relief, thankfully she hadn't woken anyone with her nightmare. She looked out of the cave and up at the sky, it wouldn't be long before the sun rose, sleep was out of the question. Slowly and as silently as possible, Kayra pushed her blanket aside and stood up, a little fresh air would do her good now.

Quietly she crept out of the cave, the air was cooler here and there was a light breeze, coming from the east. Kayra brushed her hair back and enjoyed the silence and the pleasant wind on her skin for a brief moment. 

The moon still shone brightly in the sky and the stars shone clearly in the dark night sky. On the distant horizon Kayra could faintly make out the dawn, but it would be some time before the new light of day pushed aside the black of night and life awoke again. 

"It's still a little early, isn't it? We didn't plan another changing of the guard, did we?" Daryun's deep voice brought Kayra back from her thoughts, she turned slowly to face the Marzban. The black knight saws leaning against a tree a little away from the entrance. At his back stretched the high rock wall, to his right lay the entrance to the cave. From this position, Daryun could easily observe the small plateau, the plain in front of him and the path that led past the cave. He himself, however, seemed to merge with the shadows and any attacker would only have noticed him when it was already too late. 

Kayra smiled slightly, though Daryun could not see this, in the darkness of the night and at the distance. "I couldn't sleep anymore and thought a little fresh air would do me good." She replied, stepping closer to him "may I join you?" She asked as she stood in front of him. 

Daryun nodded slightly and slid a little to the side on the boulder he was sitting at. For a while they both just sat in silence next to each other, enjoying the silence of the dark. The crickets chirped softly in this late summer night, now and then an owl could be heard in the thicket of trees. 

It was quiet and peaceful and although summer was already over and autumn had arrived, held, south of the Damavand Mountains the nights were still not too cold and offered a pleasant cooling to the still quite warm days. 

"Did Gieve's snoring wake you?" Daryun asked suddenly and Kayra opened her eyes in surprise, which she had closed for a brief moment. "So you heard it too?" "Yes it couldn't really be overheard," growled the Marzban and Kayra had to stifle a laugh. "If the women knew what they were getting into, they probably wouldn't be so at his feet" "probably that's why he never stays more than one night" Kayra said grinning widely.

Daryun let out a laugh "it would be nice if it was just his snoring but unfortunately that wasn't why I couldn't sleep anymore" she added. "A bad dream?" Kayra just nodded in confirmation and looked up at the starry sky again "do you want to talk about it?" Daryun asked, not looking at the young woman beside him. Kayra continued to look up at the starry sky, for a moment she closed her eyes again before she began to speak. "Do you really want to hear it?" "I wouldn't ask if I didn't" the black-haired man replied. 

Daryun sounded slightly offended, and Kayra could understand it in a way. They had been travelling together for some time now and even though Daryun had distrusted her in the beginning, when they had met on the battlefield of Atropathene. Especially the last fights against Lord Karlan's men and Lusitanian soldiers had built up a trusting, almost friendly basis between them. 

Kayra knew that Daryun was loyal and Daryun saw her as his equal. 

Kayra rubbed her temples to clear away her thoughts and the headache that was coming on "I'm sorry" she spoke "I didn't mean to offend you it's just" she interrupted herself and looked at the man beside her. 

"It's been a long time since anyone wanted to know how I was. I'm not used to travelling in company anymore it seems." She said and a slight smile played around her fine lips, causing a small dimple to appear on her right cheek.

Daryun returned her smile, leaning back against the tree trunk with a sigh. "Don't worry" he then said "you don't have to tell me. But I can assure you that I do care about my comrades. Besides, we're going to be travelling together for a long time now, you'd better get used to the company." He added with a twinkle in his eye and Kayra had to laugh at his comment. 

When she calmed down again, she also leaned back against the tree trunk. In the east, the rising sun could already be seen, and the black night sky slowly changed to a dark blue and purple. The stars began to fade, and the first birds could be heard chirping. Soon the others would awaken, and they would continue their journey to Peshawar Citadel.

"My parents" Kayra whispered softly and Daryun looked at her. When he said nothing, she continued "sometimes, ...I dream of them. About the day the bandits came to our village and burned everything down. I dream about them murdering my parents and taking me away. I stand there and can do nothing. I watch as my mother lies on the ground and bleeds to death. She tells me to run away, but I can't even do that. Instead, I stand there petrified."

She wiped her face briefly with her sleeve, not wanting to cry. She had never really had the chance to mourn her parents, as a young girl, but now was not the time. 

Maybe when this was all over, she would be able to return and finally mourn her parents properly after all these years. Maybe she would even ask Farangis to say a prayer for the village so that their souls could finally find peace. But now was not the time to look back, right now she had to help Prince Arslan free Pars from the Lusitanians and help him make this land a better one than it was before.  

"You could have done nothing then," Daryun's voice broke the rising silence between them. "You were a child, nothing you could have done could have prevented the death of your parents or the villagers." He looked at her seriously and Kayra returned his gaze.

He was serious yet full of compassion, she knew he meant what he said and even though deep down she knew he was right she felt helpless. 

"It feels wrong" she sighed and turned her gaze away from the Marzban and onto the narrow path in front of her which wound its way past the rocks and to the cave. 

"It feels wrong to be the only survivor and believe me when I tell you I have asked myself more than once why me." She ran a hand through her hair, playing with one of her red strands. Daryun hummed in agreement. "I can understand why you feel that way but look at it from this side, you are the one who remembers these people. Their names, their history. You are the one who keeps these people alive by talking about them, by remembering them. Nothing happens for no reason, does it? I believe there is always a greater whole, perhaps you should not die on this day yet, perhaps we should meet to fight together for Prince Arslan to make Pars a better place."

"Perhaps you are right" sighed Kayra "perhaps there is a greater purpose to all of this, even if I haven´t see it yet." "You have already suffered much in your life Kayra. So much that it would probably be enough for most people to live two lives, but you are strong. You've come so far; it seems you just have to keep fighting a little longer." 

Daryun smiled at Kayra, and she returned it "yes" she said "probably I just need to fight a little bit more." She was silent for a moment before continuing "I'm sorry to have bothered you with this. I don't know why I'm getting so sentimental all of a sudden" "We are very close to Gurgan and the Damavand mountains, you have lived here for a long time, haven't you? You know the area, probably this brings back old memories." 

The young woman bit her lips, yes old memories that was probably the right expression.

How many years had she lived here near Gurgan, in the fortress of Bash Kulla? So many beautiful memories and so many painful ones connected her to this place. 

Her gaze fell to the inside of the cave, to her sleeping place. There, next to her blanket and her travel bag, close to her spear, lay the packed bundle. A helmet, a helmet she had found covered in blood on the battlefield of Atropathene. Where the army of Pars had lost to Lusitania. Where she had been betrayed by one of her own and where Kayra had felt that strong and dark magic. A helmet she knew only too well. But she had only found this one. 

Guilt welled up in her again. Shapur was dead, there was no doubt about it, no one had been able to escape this massacre. Involuntarily she asked herself if he had thought of her.

How long had it been now, nine years? Had he perhaps hoped in his last moments to meet her again in the afterlife? And if so, was he disappointed not to find her there or was he relieved that she was still here on the other side? Or had he perhaps not thought of her at all? She could not even have blamed him. Maybe he had already married, and his last thoughts were of his family. His wife, his children? 

Kayra's stomach tightened painfully at the thought. She still carried the ring Shapur had given her. A ring as a sign that he would take her as his wife. Kayra had never forgotten this promise, but what was about Shapur? 

After all, he had to assume that she was dead. Had he mourned her? Did he still miss her sometimes? And what about Isfan? He had been just thirteen years old and now? Now he was a grown man, would he ever be able to forgive her for abandoning him? 

Daryun followed Kayra's gaze, which was fixed on the small pouch. He knew that Lord Shapur's helmet was in it. Kayra had told her story to him, Narsus, Prince Arslan and Elam and even if the young woman next to him did not show it openly. 

He had heard rumors then as a young soldier and Marzban. 

Rumors that Lord Shapur had had a relationship with a slave girl. He himself had never spoken to him about it, but Karlan and Sam had confirmed these rumors to him. 

Kayra was grieving for a loved one, Daryun knew how she felt. He too had lost his uncle in the last battle. Grief could be an overpowering emotion.

"We do not know if Lord Shapur fell in Atropathene" he began to speak softly. Kayra did not move, yet he continued to speak. "We know from Gieve that he was not among the Marzban lined up at the gates of Ecbatana. Lord Kubard was not among them either, perhaps they both escaped." 

Kayra took her eyes off the helmet and looked skeptically at Daryun "Shapur trained me" he continued unperturbed "when I joined the army I rose very quickly. Most people thought it was because of my uncle's influence, but Lord Shapur was the only one who thought otherwise. He trained me and taught me how to use the lance. Through him I also learnt that it is not always strength that counts, you also must know your opponent and study him. So, until I receive word that Lord Shapur has fallen, I believe he is still alive and so should you." 

Kayra smiled slightly at his words, but then shook her head "Hope is the meadow where many fools graze" she then spoke and looked at him seriously. 

“I learned long ago that hope is something that slows us down and only holds us back." "Then what has kept you going all these years?" Daryun asked, his smile widening as he noticed Kayra's astonished expression. 

In the meantime, the sun had appeared on the eastern horizon, bathing Kayra's hair in a sea of red flames. Her eyes were brightly lit by the sun and shimmered as darkly as the forest, with its many conifers, before them. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, Daryun enjoying her stunned look. He was about to speak again when a rustling sound caught their attention. 

Kayra and Daryun jumped up directly from their position and looked towards the path. Both had drawn their swords. 

They had never expected the sight that lay before them. A young girl, hardly older than ten, stepped out of the bushes onto the path. She stood frozen when she saw the two adults in front of her. Her clothes were only rags, and her face was scratched by the branches and twigs. She was missing a shoe and her small hands were full of dried blood. Her brown curly hair was matted, her brown eyes darting back and forth between Kayra and Daryun. 

Kayra slid her short sword back into the sword sheath and nodded to Daryun, there seemed to be no danger from the girl. But Daryun would remain vigilant for now. 

Slowly they approached the girl who was swaying towards them.

Her right knee was scraped, and her foot was bleeding, apparently, she had cut herself somewhere on a sharp stone. 

The girl turned her eyes on Kayra, "It's you," she croaked and stopped. Tears came to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. 

Puzzled Kayra stopped and looked at Daryun, she continued to walk towards the girl until she stood in front of her and knelt down. 

"What do you mean?" She asked gently "you are,…aren't you? You're Kayra" "how do you know my name?" Kayra was confused, she had never seen this girl before. Or had she? There was such a vague feeling spreading through her body.

"Mummy" was all that came from the girl, "you're the one from Mummy's stories". 

Mummy´s stories? Kayra was now finally confused; she was looking up at Daryun for help. But the former Marzban didn't seem to know who or what the girl was talking about either. 

"The heroine" the girl now seemed to be completely distraught "Kayra, the heroine of the slaves. I've been looking for you" she sobbed, wiping her face with her dirty sleeve. "You have to save us all, just like mum always tells us, you have to come back. You have to marry him after all" "who do I have to save?" Kayra asked, grabbing the girl by the arm "who do I have to marry?" "You do have to save us from the Lusitanians" a hiccup ran through the little girl's body, but she could not be dissuaded from continuing to speak.

"You must save us. You have to save Mum and Dad and Lord Isfan and Lord Shapur, or they will hurt them all. You must come back to Bash Kulla. You have to save Lord Shapur or you two won't be able to get married like Mum told me." 

Kayra looked at the little girl in shock, had she just heard it right? The Lusitanians were in Bash Kulla and Shapur was still alive? Was this girl perhaps Amala's daughter? The daughter of her former friend, who had also been a slave in Shapur's household? Is that why she looked so familiar to her? But before Kayra could ask the girl any more questions, she fainted and fell straight into her arms. 

Kayra was startled for a moment and involuntarily felt for the girl's pulse. 

She breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at Daryun "she seems very exhausted" "no wonder" he nodded in agreement and now put his sword back in its sheath as well. "Bash Kulla is at least a two day march away, who knows how long she has been travelling." He bent down to Kayra and grabbed the child from her, gently he took her in his arms and lifted her up "she seems a brave little thing if she escaped the Lusitanians and made it this far on her own." He walked towards the cave from where the first voices of the others were already coming to them "heroine of the slaves?" He asked in surprise and turned to Kayra, but she just shrugged her shoulders in perplexity.

"Nevertheless," replied the Marzban, "I have a feeling that Peshawar will have to wait a little longer for us." 

Kayra sighed and followed Daryun back to the others without comment. Hope. How much she had suppressed this feeling all these years and now it was fighting its way back to the surface with all its might. 

Should she really dare to hope? Maybe that was the reason Daryun had spoken of earlier, maybe she just had to keep fighting a little longer. Maybe everything would turn out all right somehow.

Smiling, she shook her head. Heroine of the slaves, what a stupid title that was.

Drew Kazai to wind down a little bit after mock exams! (Fucking finals still coming up I hate it so much) since I wasn't very satisfied with the previous sketch I did of him (that was never uploaded, I think. I liked how I drew his face back then but alas from the hair to the body to the incomplete clothes I just... couldn't like it)

He looks like his older sister, who is the mother of AU!Arslan! Also he's Shapur's hubby. Go figure.

I still need to add his tats but that will come with the colouring stage (I haven't even decided what they should look like 😭 Does anyone got suggestions? 😭) I need to add his bracelet too, almost forgot.

Because I finally have to clear my head so I can continue working on my story.

So now I'm going to bombard you with thoughts about my The heroic legend of Arslan modern AU.

Shapur

Oh my god where do I start? I have so many thoughts about him

- In his time in middle and high school, Shapur was a good judoka and was quite successful due to a shoulder injury, but he had to give up the competition

- He owns a motorbike and in his free time he likes to do some laps especially towards the mountains and forests. Sometimes he also visits Isfan when he is on duty at the ranger station at the weekend

-when he was 18 he took custody of Isfan (the backstory here is about the same as in the manga)

- Shapur is a passionate mountain biker even if he doesn't get to do it often because of his job

- He doesn't like spicy food but likes something sweet (at work he has a drawer with a stash of sweets)

- He doesn't drink much because he can't tolerate too much alcohol

- He was in the military until he was injured on a mission and retired. Kahrlan then took him to the M.o.P

- Kubard is his colleague

-Shapur is often annoyed by him, but their clearance rate and cooperation is the best in the entire team

- Shapur wakes up quickly and due to his military background he gets up early and goes jogging

- Kayra (my OC) can't understand that

"Honey why are you awake?" "stay down I'm just going jogging" "it's 5:30 on a Sunday morning" "I'll also bring fresh bread rolls" "and a croissant"

- he is a romantic

- He hates casesin which children are involved

Kubard (my brother in spirit or rather Kayra's 😂)

- Kubard wasn't in the military

- He comes from a poor area of ​​Ecbatana where there is a lot of crime

- he made it to the rank of police officer and was brought into the M.o.P through his merits

- He loves to mock Shapur and his reaction

- He played basketball when he was in school and still does today. once a week he goes to his old neighborhood to play a few rounds of basketball with the kids there and make sure they don't go down the wrong path

- he buys old houses, renovates them himself and rents them out cheaply. It's more about renovating. just let off steam and tear down a wall

- he loves vintage cars, he has three of them and tinkers around with them

- he lives in an old airplane hanger and has set up a bachelor den there, no woman has stayed more than one night so far

- he has a diving license

Ok so far until now

Might write some thoughts about Isfan, Gieve, Daryun, Saam, Narsus and Kayra (Oc) aswell

Maybe Arslan, Farangies and Elam to

Love this ❤️

Wish he would be canon

FLAT COLOURS!!! :D Except I haven't coloured his necklace thing and also I forgot to put in his bracelet again— I'll do it in the next session, I swear T_T

I'm pretty satisfied with the tattoo designs and colours! They were such a pain to draw but I feel like it was worth it 😭

The stuff I'm actually not sure about are his clothes. I'm never sure what colour each part should be. Do y'all got any suggestions? Oh and the bells too, definitely. I feel like the clothing part is just a placeholder for now. What do you guys think?

He's supposed to actually have hazel eyes. I don't know how I'll get to colouring hazel eyes but uh... we'll see, I suppose? 😭

❤️❤️❤️

Med school has been kicking my ass and I spent my energy giving into the whims of beginning to work on the character design sheets stuff 😅

I probably should've started with Arslan “easiest to draw” Areyan to make it easier for me but... guess who I started with...

Have a preview of the body base!!

👀👀👀

I can totally understand giving in to the temptation to start with Kazai! This is looking great!

This is so beautiful and cool

You nailed it. I like his clothes and that you have small and big symbols for the clan and Shapur and on the other side the outfits are fitting perfectly to his character and Kazai

I can’t wait to see more of your art

And finally, he is done!! My brain is fuzzy, help.

The first is his just... day-to-day clothes before he came to live with Shapur, I suppose! I thought I'd have a lot more to say about this. I tried to give him autumnal, warm colours as usual, though fun fact prototype!Kazai's main colour was green.

The next up is what he usually wears after coming to live with Shapur, the sketch next to it is my rough design of what his household staff/attendants would wear, and I... tried? to at least echo the wrapping and styling to theirs even if obviously Kazai's clothes aren't cut like theirs. Funnily enough he sheds a layer here hahaha.

Then comes his wedding attire! SO ORNATE. MUCH GREEN. I had so much fun designing this one even if it gave me a massive headache. The green robe part was shorter at first but that didn't really convey the ceremonial vibes I was gunning for in my eyes, so I elongated it. The white tree was... supposed to be a pine tree but I quickly realized all my attempts of drawing one looked like shit. So I gave up and drew a (hopefully decent) normal tree— which... I'm just gonna retcon and say it was supposed to represent whatever species of tree they planted at their wedding. At first instead of a tree I wanted to have a cat and a wolf, one on each side, but... it looked weird and it didn't work so tree it was. About the thing on his sleeves, the outer blue ring with waves represents the ocean, the triangles the mountains, and then I fucking forgot what the thing in the middle was, I probably had no clue what to put in there but not liking the empty look I just chucked smth random in. Forgive me! (Also I tried to incorporate purple into this!)

Also this is how his marriage bracelet looks (Shapur has a matching one):

All the colours represent the two of them, save for maybe the outermost layer I forgot why I chose that colour there. Reddish pink (Kazai) and teal (Shapur) intertwined, enveloped by purple (Shapur) which is in turn enveloped by yellow (Kazai). Maybe the purple and yellow part would be reversed in Shapur's bracelet.

And then his ceremonial dance attire! Despite looking simpler than the wedding attire this might've given me even more of a headache because... ALL THE TASSELS. THE BORDERS ON THE SLEEVES. THE STAR/SNOWFLAKES. In terms of sheer tediousness this one would win by a landslide 😂😂

The borders on the bodice part were just... I just thought they looked cool, moving onto the sleeves I tried to have little stars in them but I don't know if you can even see them. The dark indigo part is supposed to be the night sky, and the white little things simultaneously stars and snowflakes. The tassels attached to that part, the colours are supposed to represent Northern Lights, because you could see them from the ancient island, it had Polar Days and Polar Nights as well— months where the sun did not set at all or would not rise. The same theme is repeated on the necklace. The symbol on the pendants... Let's just say it's a feeble attempt on drawing a stylized pine tree. If it failed well at least it looks vaguely like a tree? Also tiny little chimes hang from those pendants.

As for the bottom skirt portion of the robe... At first I was just gonna repeat the Northern Lights colours, or maybe just silver, but... I got bored. So I went buckwild with that one, I don't know what it's supposed to represent anymore.

Also that kind of gathered sort of shirt with puffy collars, they're only for ceremonial occasions.

I wanted headwear too, esp for the ceremonial outfits, but by that point my brain was pretty much dead so they don't look... very good... Here they are anyways:

(FUCK I FORGOT TO SHORTEN THE DARK BLUE ONE AAAAAA)

And this is how his tats look:

This was uh, a Rant™! I hope you enjoyed this mess as much as I did.