Nancy
```3 AoM, 874```

It had been so long since the lion graced the Eternal Palace with his presence, or so it was often called such. In truth he had merely not had cause to return for some time, his orders long standing for two centuries. Even know as he strode through the courtyard he found his mind adrift, always wandering and always concerned with what was and what will be- it is rare for him, in his moments of peace, to worry about what is instead.

He wandered along the paths of the courtyard, admiring the refined craftsmanship around him. Gorgeous statues of marble made to look so real you'd think they would turn to look at you if they felt like it. Water fountains that look like small part of the Isles themselves have been brought here to be looked at with a smile. The courtyard had always been a place of peace for him, often silent and serene whenever he ventured there during the night as he is now.

With a small sigh the demigod of war sat upon a bench carved from granite, looking off towards the rising moon as his white hair flowed in the wind. His gaze, golden and powerful, softened as he looked over the moon's splendor. A reminder of Lusine, a woman of such grace and beauty she could send Pride and his armies to war with but a glance and a smile.

"***You always brighten my darkest hours, moon-born.***" He said in a hushed whisper, a private remark he wished he could have said to her face. He knew that might be possible later, a few years down the road maybe, but as he continued to marvel at the moon a gentle smile slowly making its way across his face- hope, it still remained.
Frank
Right in the courtyard, while Pride was seemingly all alone in his solace and contemplations, was one man, a gardener that even late at night was tending to the plants of this side of the courtyard. 

Except, for one such as Pride who would often visit the palace, and would no doubt be used to if not very familiar with the servants of the Eternal Palace, this man would come off as an oddity. Instead of wearing a humble outfit, he wore an expensive if ancient toga. He was in his middle ages, a long beard on his face, yet he was never seen here before. Most of all, he was almost ignoring the demigod within the room, as if he was not there at all. 

Emphasis on almost.

**"Practicing poetry?"** The man finally spoke, his tone a bit fatherly with a hint of teasing. For a servant like him to speak so confidently towards a high ranking commander, let alone a *Demigod*... He either was too brave for his own good, or was more familiar to him than he could ever think. 

**"I didn't know the children of the Gods could be romantic."** The gardener noted, his back remaining turned to Pride as he continued to snip and snap the leaves and branches within the courtyard, trimming them perfectly. Too perfectly, as if an artisan's eye was currently painting a piece rather than a gardener simply doing his job. **"I expected a focus on war and battles, like the ones of old... But times do change. Or I'm simply getting old."** He chuckled.
Nancy
The demigod had indeed noticed the man when he arrived, assuming him to be either servant or simple enjoyer as was he. He had some suspicions when he spied the finer robes though he quickly dashed them away with reason- everyone has their small joys in life, hobbies or acts they commit to practicing for peace of mind. Some chose to read and write, like him, and others might choose to tend to a garden as that man is. Either way Pride didn't want to assume, he knows what little good can come from such a thing.

When the man spoke to him in such a manner Pride felt the fires of his ego boil for a moment, that part of his being that wanted to prove his domination and supremacy above all others. Yet he fought himself, his right fist clenching with such strength he could have snapped the blade of a sword clean in two.

"***Something of the sort... More so hoping she can hear me, but poetry is a good way to put it.***" He replied with as much kindness as his previous emotion would allow, thought it was enough to seem somewhat decent.

** **
"***Indeed we can. Most indulge in the simple pleasures of romance, some have waited for millennia to find someone worth the true commitment. I tend to the latter.***" Pride crossed his arms as the man kept his back to him, he didn't much care to be exalted like so many other demigods do, but to have your back turned to someone while speaking was simply disrespectful to him. "***The one's of old aye? Those ancient demigods from the ages long lost, those who walked beside the Conqueror himself?***"

His tone was slowly growing agitated, he loathed those that made assumptions of him and his fellow demigods as if they knew truly anything about them that wasn't elaborate story and song from old legends and dusty books. Those who knew nothing of what they had suffered, what *He* Had suffered.

"***I have dwelt on war and blood since the day I first cried out to this world. Not a day goes by where I do not think of the thing I am born from, but make no mistake, I am driven by other things than mindless slaughter.***"
Frank
To his comment about the ages long lost, the man let out a soft chuckle. As if he was laughing at Pride's naivete, though it was a valid assumption nonetheless.

**"I was thinking... Further."** He turned around to reveal his face, his brown beard and eyes obvious. The gardener looked fairly average, healthy to be a nobleman, but there was an aura of familiarity. Not of his face, for it simply looked to be average, like the average citizenry... But with the spirit he carried. The way he acted. The method which he spoke to Pride. Like a peer. **"Way before this Empire came to be. When we were all divided amongst city states or tribes. When sons of gods were as common as ravaging bandit lords. Though back then, who could tell them apart?"**

The gardener continued to groom the plants around the courtyard, seeming very focused on his job. **"Must be from before your time, I'm sure. You look young to be that old."**

**"Truly?"** He interjected after his speech about slaughter. **"You ARE the son of a war god. You lived through the greatest war this world had and will ever see. Now you have returned, and your role remains that of a commander."**

His tone had shifted from eloquently mysterious to accusatory. Like he was questioning his authority. Who was he to ask such questions? A heretic? He *Is* A deity after all, or the son of one. To ask such rude questions...

**"Are you ready for what comes after ceaseless war? The responsibility of maintaining peace and harmony?"**
Nancy
"***Before the age of unification we were all simple people, simple lives and simple joys. We knew nothing of what was to come, no word nor warnings. I was only a young boy when Scipio came to my mothers doorstep, and for years even after that... We fit amongst the masses.***" His memories of that time have always been strongly repressed. He did not want nor wish to dwell on the sadness and regret, anger and resentment he was fueled with by those old memories. Back when he was simple, naive and stupid.

"***If you are so wise than you should well know that outward appearance tells little of one's true story.***" The demigod replied as he stood from his seat upon the hand made bench of granite. "***I am.***" Was all he had to offer in reply.

"***Do not aim to stand before me and question my readiness.***" The golden hue of his eyes grew brighter, the darkness of night around them scattering back into the shadows as Pride began to shimmer with light. His long white hair puffing up like the main of a lion, his muscles seeming to bulge out further as it was like he grew in size- standing taller than he was before.

"***I am Pride Malcorin, greatest son of Titanos and the First Imperator of The Conquerer himself. I have bloodied armies with sword and shield and used their very bones as fertilizer for fields I helped harvest. Speak to me in such a manner again and I will enlighten you to just how*** *Ready* ***I am.***"

Rage burned in his heart of gold. The mixture of emotions from looking at the moon and his unspoken love of Lusine had brought him peace but whoever this man is has torn that peace away from him by daring to speak to him with such gumption, made him relive memories and retell the same story he has told over and over and over again: that his role is the very same as it was three millennia ago, and that he is no closer to his goal then as he is now. And that... That enrages him.
Frank
The gardener turned to face the demigod, looking at him not with eyes of fear, nor with eyes of defiance... But with an unflinching lack of fear. He did not fear this demigod before him, unfazed by the threats of 'enlightenment' thrown his way. 

**"You still burn with unending rage. That I do not fault you for."** It was as if his voice had entirely changed, to one that Pride was very familiar to. A voice that he had yet to hear again for millennia, and only now resufraced. The gardener circled Pride, walking past the plants he cultivated. **"This was a test. But you have not passed. Nor have you failed."**

The mysterious man stood beside one plant, his hand twirling a correctly trimmed leaf. **"I wanted only to discover how different you are now. You have changed, I can see. But you remain haunted by your past. Or you've simply not adjusted to this new world. You had only centuries to adapt, after all. I had my entire lifetime."**

The gardener emitted a glow - a white glow - which slowly rose in intensity the more he spoke. 

**"I have watched you for a long time. I have seen you succeed and fail. Love and hate. Most of all I have seen you gain... And lose. You have lost a lot, and now is the time for you to gain something once again."**

The figure, now glowing at its brightest to the point a stare towards him could be blinding, stepped beside the plant. It was then when the gardener was no more, and in his wake, a being emerged. The light dimmed down, no longer obscuring the man who emanated the glow. The odd and questioning gardener was now gone, replaced by a near-godly being clad in heavy armor. He stared at Pride, directly looking him in the eye... And downwards, at that.
Gary
**"Son of Titanos... You were always ready."**
Nancy
The war child held no care for the lack of fear in the man's gaze, all would be in accordance with his design soon enough. "***Rage will always burn in the hearts of those caked in war and mine shall burn the hottest.***" He replied with zeal to his tone, a righteous venom meant to stake his claim to the throne of superiority... Until the voice changed.

"*Child.*"

"*Young one.*"

"*Pride.*"

"*Imperator.*"

Flashes of memories long since forgotten erupted into the mind of the war born child. His eyes clamped shut and he physically jolted in pain, dropping down to a knee with a harsh clatter of metal. His body was trembling, sweat already beading on his brow while his teeth ground against themselves and his hair seemed to stand on end. His breathing became labored, he tried to suck in air to fix himself but he felt as if no matter how much air he took in he was still near to suffocating.

"*Noctis.*"

"*Alekhya.*"

"*Imperator.*"

"*Conqueror.*"

The son of Titanos stood with great effort, his eyes wild with an animalistic urgency as his body, his finely tuned body was out of his control. The body he had worked tirelessly to forge into the ultimate weapon, the greatest of them all, that now felt weak and hollow as he stared at the visage of the man who molded him into the ***White Lion***.

"*S... Scipio?*" His speech came out like the croak of a frog, hoarse and guttural as the eyes of an aged demigod saw through the lenses of both a boy seeing his father once again and a man seeing his jailer returned to him.