A Tryst with Destiny

CaterpillarKing said:

Ooo Swedish girls. We understand completely

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Oh yeah!

BTW, now I'm a dead character again... oh well

actually she's Korean.

@Spirictum : actually there's a controversy attached with your character which I haven't fully decided yet. I will ask your take on it, but only after writing through all the updates. After the Judaean revolt there will be the exploration reports and a letter from China.

Sweden, Korea. Close enough.

I actually get the two screwed up sometimes. They're very similar. Hair and eyes and all that

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adhiraj.bose said:

50,000 views

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The Flagship of S&T's Renaissance Era, that's a good title

I think that title still belongs to America, but Tryst is the Battleship

I'd say Tryst is the Byzantine Empire of the S&T Dark Ages (look at the lull we've been having recently), keeping interest going until a real renaissance will happen.

*Everyone goes to wikipedia to look up why that's funny

Not funny, just ironic .

Rama Vasu had grown up on the docks of Kanchipuram, he had seen the ships of merchants and explorers dock on its port. Here, exotic ships and visitors from far off lands were not an uncommon sight, but what inspired young Rama's attention the most was the exploratory missions of the Chola navy, in particular the adventures of Captain Kartikeya.

One day, when he was twelve years of age, he sat to talk with his great grandfather who had sailed with Captain Kartikeya to the mysterious island in the far east, 'Adrishya dweep'. He would regale his grandchild with tales of the exotic beauties of the island and its people, and of the daring of captain Kartikeya, "This was before he became amatya, this was before power corrupted his noble heart." he said.

On his death bed, he left Rama, then aged 15 years of age, with a diary. He did not have the strength left in him to tell his grandchild of the value of the diary he had given, but Rama Vasu would soon find out. The day after the cremation, he started reading the diary from the beginning. The accounts in his diary confirmed much of his grandfather's tales, but those ended with the discovery of the isles, the diary told of those travails that happened thereafter….

Listen to this while reading the remainder

Spoiler :

Link to video.

"In the journal of Captain Kartikeya,

I offer my prayers to the Goddes Tara, that she may guide us back to the homeland. I can only hope that she will answer my prayers, and the prayers of my crew.

Since the Goguryo have closed their borders to us, we have been forced to find our way around the peninsula, but the seas here had their own perils. Locals would often speak of a mysterious island to the east but had warned us that those who venture there never come back, that a deathly fog covers the island, and that a divine wind destroys all those who would dare try to set foot on its shores. Yet, we had no choice, we had to go East, or else risk prosecution at the hands of the Goguryo.

We travelled, and found the island that the locals spoke of with such wonder. The trees here bear leaves of red and pink, the mountains are blue. In a land of such beauty, should it surprise anyone that the Gods themselves protect it with the divine wind ? Yet, the gods were kind to us, perhaps we were fated to come here. The native people here call themselves the Eno, they were hospitable to us but it was not easy to convince them that we came with peaceful intentions. These were a people closed to the outside world and had never seen a Bharatiya before. Our dark skin seemed most alien to them and perhaps they thought that we were divine creatures ? Or perhaps devil spawn ?

Many days have passed since our first landing, we have now circumnavigated around the Northern-most island. The weather grows ever colder as we venture North. Here we rest now, surviving from the rich forests of this large island. The seas yield much more than the land here, and we have taken to fishing to sustain ourselves..."

Just as he had finished reading the account, his father entered calling his name "Rama."
"Yes father."
He walked to his son with folded arms, and looked at him, "I have been called to report for a voyage."
"A voyage ? Where to ?"
"To a place farther than I have ever travelled."
That sentence piqued Rama's curiosity, his eyes widened, 'Could it be …' he thought to himself.

Rama's father, Vishnu had travelled often for trade, but on occasion he would be demanded by the crown of Magadh to travel with the exploratory fleet. His skills as a sailor were well known within Chola Nadu, and his presence in an exploration was often considered welcome. The farthest he had travelled in such a voyage was to isle of Suvarnadweep and the islands around it, but a new mission was to be conducted under orders from Samrat Mandalaka.

Rama asked but in a hesitating voice, "W..Where are you going ..?"
"Now before I tell you that my son. Remember a promise ?"
'The promise?' Rama felt confused for a moment as he struggled to remember what his father was trying to tell him.
"The promise, son. You are in a family of sailors, how long would you be grounded to the land ? Your place is upon the seas. After your great grandfather's death, I had made a promise to you and your mother, that you would be brought into the family trade. The time has come to fulfill that promise."
Rama's eyes widened, "So .. this means you're taking me with you ?"
"I am bound to my word son."
Filled with excitement and curiosity Rama asked, "Where are we going father ?"
Vishnu took a moment's pause before smiling and answered, "Adrishya dweep."
Rama couldn't believe his ears, all that came from him in reply was a gasp that was equal parts fear and equal parts excitement.

Twenty years ago the Samrat of the empire of Magadh had ordered the exploration of the eastern regions of Europa to Anatolia. Amatya Rishikesh oversaw the explorations by the emissary of Europa. Today, in the 66th year of the Vikram Samvat, the reports from the emissary of Europa finally arrived.

From the emissary of Europa

I have concluded the travel of the Roman dominions from the province known as Gaul to the lands of the Yavanas.

The boundaries of the empire now stretch from one sea in the west to the sea of the East covering the entire length of the sea of the South. The cities of Gaul and North of the Roman homeland have grown far beyond the strength of the capital of Roma itself.

In the East, the army of Roma has consolidated itself in the Yavan lands and this region is at peace. However, there is news of civil war brewing in the lands farther East. Reports have come of the province of Anatolia and Sur of revolts by the native yahudi peoples. A famine has struck the region and starvation is rife. The legion of Anatolia has been mobilized to crush the yahudi revolt, but so far nothing has changed, the region remains at war.

The first step to journeying to Anatolia would be to cross the city of Byzantion, or at least that was the way of the journey to the East. After the fall of the Yavana, Byzantion was the only surviving independent city state that escaped Roman conquest. Now, it has fallen.

When we entered the domain under Byzantion, we found a town of Yavanas. Here common folk lived in terror, a terror they would not speak of. We rested there for a week, during that time we witnessed a band of burly axe wielding warriors raid the village. They came to collect hefty taxes from this village of traders, when those who could not pay pleaded with these barbarians, they were put to death by the axe. Such was the nature of the terror upon this village.

We managed to fight off few of these raiders, but the sight of Romans and foreigners enraged the raiders. We could not linger in this village for longer. It was then I learned that Roma was not at peace with Byzantion, though the two did not fight a war. Against better judgment we travelled further East to Byzantion.

At Byzantion, we saw a most heartening sight. This was a city of legend, the largest city in the world, the most prosperous city in the world. The tower of Byzantion was a wonder of the world. The sight what greeted us, was a half broken half ruined tower whose light had long since faded. The harbor where once, a hundred ships came and went from distant shores, now seemed empty and broken. The city itself seemed like a heap of ruin.

We would not gain access into the city, consequently it was impossible to cross the straits of Byzantion into Anatolia. We left and went on our way back to Roman lands as soon as we could. Being a foreigner, I would not be permitted to board Roman shipping vessels, it is thus impossible to travel to Anatolia. A more perilous route was explained to me by the Roman guards who travelled beside me. That route would take us around the Northern sea above Byzantion into Sarmatian lands. Wild horsemen roam these lands and rule with impunity. It would be unwise under these conditions thus, to head Eastwards.

While the Western empire prospers, the East falls into barbarism.

In service,

Markandey, Emissary to Europa.

The air at the Apadana palace was heavy with anxiety, a man in his death bed would write his final order. Persia had been in a limbo ever since the death of the last Azes king. The Parthian line had been extinguished, now several factions of the Persian nobility emerged to stake their claim to the Persian throne. Twelve factions had emerged, but only two remain, the Scythians who emerged North of Kambojadesa and the line of Gondopharnes who reigned in the Parada kingdom.

Amatya Martand was ill, death would strike him at any moment, a caretaker would be beside him at all times, "Rahul.. Rahul !" he raise his trembling hands summoning the caretaker from his bed.
"yes sire" Rahul bowed,
Martand struggled to rise up and spoke to Rahul, "Call.. Susidharthak"
"I will sire." at once Rahul sprinted out of his room, and summoned one of Amatya Martand's most trusted messengers.

Martand's last thoughts revolved around how he had ruled Persia, 'Persia has been ours for a hundred years now, yet this land yearns for freedom. How long can we deprive them ? I have been at the helm of this land, and all I did was manipulate it to keep my power and what has that given me ? Power ? What power ? when I can barely move my arms, when I need a caretaker to feed me like a child ! O see the truth of man.. how frail is this illusion of power' "hehahahaha" he broke into cynical laughter at that thought.

"My sire" just then, Susidharthak had entered.
"Susidharthak.. I need you to go to the Parad kingdom and entreat with Pacoras. Tell him, come to Persepolis, the gates of the Apadana palace are opened for him. I invite him to take the throne."
He raised his right hand once more, pointing to a stack of scrolls kept beside his desk. "Take my seal, and you may use it on my behalf."
"Sire.. but how can I ?"
"Yes you can ! You must .. my time in this world is limited, before I leave I must keep order in this forsaken land. Only Pacoras is worthy. There is a scroll on the desk, that is my final verdict. Take it to Pacoras, make haste."

Susidharthak took the message and rode out to the perilous hills of the Parad kingdom. It would be no less than four days on horseback to reach the hill fort of Pacoras. Amatya martand however, would not live to see it.

Later that night, the caretaker Rahul was awakened late at night to the sound of violent coughing. "Rah.. huuul. aaghh hghh ughh ughh r r Raahu..ughhh" , Rahul heard the familiar sound of Amatya Martand, he rushed to
"Amatya .. Amatya ! Oh .." Rahul was taken aback by the sight of the blood ridden bed and the agony that his master was in.
"Ughhh hhughh aaaahhh.." Martand shook violently with each cough, his face bore an expression of agony.
Rahul hurriedly called the royal medic, "Call the Vaid.. help.." he held Martand's arm, "Do not worry my sire, the vaid will come."
"I … am da.. ughhh.. no more.." he shook his head tightly holding Rahul's hand.

Before the call could be heard, Amatya Martand gave more violent coughs with blood spewing out of his mouth with every cough. Finally, he drew his last gasp of breath before falling to his bed. Amatya Martand, knew only one life, the life that brought him to the halls of power, he had no time nor will to make a family, he lived a dedicated and disciplined life on his own abstaining from drinking and pleasure, all to strengthen himself so he may rule. The last thirty years of his life were driven to the pursuit of power, and today, he died in the hands of his caretaker in a foreign land, in a foreign palace, alone.

A week had passed, Amatya Martand had been given a state funeral to be buried in the sacred soil of the Ganga as was the custom of his people. Persia would now have a new king, and order would return to this troubled realm. The sun rose over Persepolis and its rays shot through as brilliant gold streaks through grey clouds. The army of Pacoras marched from the South to the imperial capital holding the leonine banner of the Parthian empire before them. As they came to the city, curious onlookers looked on from the balconies and walls of Persepolis, of the new ruler of Persia.

Our time is ending. The war of succession was incredible indeed. A great clash of Great People. Senapati Vijayanand was the first to leave us if I'm not mistaken, then me (Raja Abhaya), now Amatya Martand too.

If I didn't skip any chapters, there are still Amatia Nyogi and the infamous KartikeyaKing to end this era.

Congratulations Mahamatya Kartikeya, you stood while we passed away. Will revenge take place?