The divergent pattern of the earth: dry, partite, cold... I cannot recall what it took to bring those people, my people, above the ground. Fifty men with fifty pickaxes, one by one, we took their strangled bodies to clarity. Their purple, bruised mouths were messy, and dirty little junks roamed inside their soulless eyes. Their skin started to decay, their hands were loose, and they were clean. There was not even a leak of blood. I imagined that they slowly immersed themselves under gallons of soil; they sank deeper as they tried to spare their tangled hands. Some of them would still be alive after their hangman left the city. I felt their desperate wait for the inevitable death. They were blinded, suffocating and grappling. They were far away from salvation, abandoned by their King in rage.

Four hundred men, women, and children were carried out from the pit and buried in graves. I thought they would be so startled if they were sent down again, but eventually, the funerals occurred. It rained that day; I lay on the wet, sticky mud; as the rain got heavier, the ground swelled and came upon me. Heavy-soaked earth would end their pain quicker; I felt an irresistible rage towards the clouds. Towards the creator of them, most ardently. I would kill him; I would kill the dog. I would kill him as often as he dared to kill an innocent. I would kill him twice as much as he thought to kill somebody. The rain prevailed on the following three days. I cannot remember the day it settled. The war became inevitable. My victory was inevitable. In the blink of an eye, all the reasons, consequences, agreements, intimacy, underestimates, pride, courage, faith, and unity were pointless and fragile to be butchered by a sword. All the treasures that I had been bestowed with were scarce and indifferent. This was not a journey that was brought upon me; this was the journey, the battle of my life.

I isolated myself in my room in Edre until the weather calmed down. I didn't light any of the candles or the fireplace. The days were spent in splendid indigo darkness. The early morning lights lay in shades of grey across the room through the white curtains. I only let Oksana stay with me. She was a quiet type from time immemorial. She had always lived a life only cross with mine in the setting. We were not strangers; I thought we managed to know each other astonishingly, yet we did not interfere. She was in melancholy of her own, and I was trapped in my gloom. We intersected in loneliness. 

Then the thunderstruck. The room had been enlightened so before the hearing came. Oksana was reading; she vowed to be unscared and unavoided. She kept reading while I felt the light of confrontation. Tears of rage were gliding down my cheeks. The faces of the innocent cannot be redeemed. She saw me; I knew she did, yet returned to reading without any glimpse of emotion. "You ought to be the first to know there will be a war, Oksana. A war that will bring destruction to both sides out of cruelty and mischief and ambition and evil. People that don't deserve it will die." She kept silent momentarily, but afterwards, "People that deserve it will die either," she finished my sentence. I was startled by her coldness, which I couldn't get used to even though I had encountered it so much to count. "I understand it, King Bayezid. I know you; I know you damn well. You will fight madly, but you are afraid, not of dying but of losing, which is as cowardly as the other. I know you too well to say that this will be the apex of your life. It certainly will be. None of the things you did before will dare to be compared with this would-be war if you have the victory.

On the other hand, your influence on this world and yourself will vanish if you lose. I am mature enough to know that I am not a piece of pea in this story; things I dwelled on, dealt with, and felt were massive, nothing. You took my meaning away long ago and replaced it with yourself. Now I am meaningless..." I muttered something like what are you saying, or this is not true... but continued. "Now I don't feel much to care. You killed the love inside me a lifetime ago; his memory feels like it is from another life. He is gone; he was gone when you chopped his head when you handled my Vlad's dark, wet hair. I was gone then; my story was lost back then. I saw and witnessed you; you were always good to me, kind, fair to everyone, brave on the outside, a lonely child inside. I defined you as a good man, a worthy man. I always abide by you. There could even be a fancy crumb of love inside me towards you. I confess that you are my lord, husband, and King, the man I respect most. However, my dear grace, if there was the slightest chance, possibility, even a dream, maybe a rumour about taking my Vlad back again, even after all those years, I would stab my knife into your heart without hesitation and wouldn't look back again." I was silenced, shuddering; I felt my irises were tilting from one side to another. She sighed and regained her pale tone of voice. "I open up to you about these just now because I know the severity of the circumstances. I know that a rough destiny is waiting for you. It would be best to gather alliances, supporters and maybe friends to resist this threat. You listened to me and what I can do regarding my inner desires. Choose who you trust wisely because everyone is capable of anything when tested with something they want. Nobody ever truly forgets what was done in the past." She never talked that long ever again. It was her words that made me shocked. 

The next day, I was up to gather the highly-ranked colonels, chiefs of tribes and viziers. "We need to obtain as much force as we can get. The war is a must. Report me which tribes are likely to be on our side. What are the circumstances in the Balkans?" Kartal and an old wise vizier named Yonku looked at each other warily. The vizier started,  "Your Highness, the ambassadors in the Balkans reported that Temur tripped all those countries and made secret alliances. Until today, none of the lands declared they are siding with us.

On the other hand, It is known that Temur made deals with each of them." I tried to control my anger. It suddenly tore the thoughts in my mind, "What about Tigrisia? Have we heard of King Jaromir?" I saw that they hesitated to reply. "ANSWER ME!" Kartal stepped forward. "There are no official declares, yet..." I hated when people chewed their words inside their mouths for too long. "YET?" Kartal continued steadily. "Yet, the ambassador claimed that Temur left Tigrisia without any harm, their meeting took quite a while, and King Jaromir was seen shaking hands with him." It was not logical, as opposed to my senses. "King Jaromir wouldn't do that; I shall write a letter to him and clarify the subject." All the viziers stood up. "This wouldn't be a sage thing to do at this stage, my king," they agreed. "If he stands for the enemy, then such a letter may be understood as if we need Tigrisia's alien ship," they continued. It was absurd, ridiculous, that Jaromir decided to stand against me. "They are my vessels. I conquered their land, and they pledged alliance to me. They must fight for me!" The viziers sat again, only leaving Kartal on the foot. "You are right, my King; we cannot come to an answer without an official declaration or attempt on behalf of Temur. However, my sole advice is that you can only truly and completely trust your Turk companions. The rest would always turn into enemies when the conditions are provided." I took a deep breath; I was calmer, sober-minded. I sat in my chair. "You are right to an end, yet this end does not cover the faith of King Jaromir towards me." They reverenced and left me alone in the room. He wouldn't do such a thing; he wouldn't betray me. Nobody ever truly forgets what was done in the past. I didn't do anything to him besides raising him as a son. I didn't keep him in Danishmenthan forcefully; I just didn't let him leave me. I paced back and forth in the room. He never demanded to go anyway; he liked being my company and friend. Except that he tried to escape from the castle the first year he came to Edre. 

I couldn't fall asleep that day; I noticed that Oksana only pretended to be asleep when I lay in bed with her. So, I spent most of those nights wandering around the castle. I usually found myself near the stables. Goliath was a younger nag then, after I killed Ser Vlad, I couldn't let such a beauty collapse in the battleground. He was a wild creature; he knew that we were the murderers of his rider. He hated everyone in Edre, but he knew Jaromir. He only obeyed him. I gave the horse to Jaromir; he trained him. I thought they took heart from each other. It was one of those nights that I tripped over the castle. I couldn't realize it at first, but inside the shadows, a dark, bright horse was sitting in the grass and not stirring a bit, like a sculpture. The night guards were changing, and the new ones entered from a narrow door through the back of the rampart. The door could barely let one man in at a time. A horse rider or a horse couldn't escape from there. I was interested, continued to stand where I was and watched. Goliath, among the grasses, embarked on as fast as the night guard inside went outside before the one outside entered. They were startled when they saw a mad horse running towards them. Goliath inclined to the ground and glided through the exterior while Jaromir leapt on the rampant walls and climbed on the border with two pocket daggers. He then ran on the rampart and jumped on Goliath, who had already passed the entrance. They rushed toward the full moon. I was amazed by what I saw at that moment. I whistled, and my horse reached by my side at the time. I followed them. He didn't know where to ride. If he did, I wouldn't be able to catch up with him. All the land that was lying in front of him was strange. He paused and reared his horse on a hill. He was about to decide where to go when I cut his path. He took his sword and pointed it at me. I did the same. We circled each other for a while with our swords. 

"What you did there, that was a scene boy." He was looking directly into my eyes; his heart had no hesitation. He could get himself killed just by that. "I'll return to Tigrisia; I am needed there; I have my family there. You cannot trap me for so long. I will go eventually." His tone of voice was like a mature knight in his forties. "You have a family here, too; Oksana is here. She would be extremely alone when you are gone." He squinted his teeth; Goliath was whinnying uneasily. "I will take her home sooner or later. When I become the King, I will save her from this cruelty. I will walk towards her, take her hand and return to Tigrisia, and nobody will say a thing because I will be a man that the whole world leaned in front of out of respect." I placed my sword into the sheath.

"You can be that man and do everything you said you would. I can help you with that; I can teach you. No one in Tigrisia can raise you as I would. If you go now, they will treat you like a child. You will be the King only in name, but your mother or uncle will rule the country. I can bestow you with dignity, war tales, reputation and respect. When the time comes, you will enter Tigrisia with cheering, applauding, hope, and great enthusiasm that not only as their King but as their legend would arrive." His eyes were softened, bright by the moon or destiny I preached for him. "What do you say?" He loosened Goliath's reins. "I accept your offer." He was no more than twelve when he conducted his first official agreement. We rode our horses for a while beside each other in the moonlight. He started the conversation.

+ Your horse is the whitest horse that I have ever seen. His colour is even lighter than the snow itself. It must be named after snow.

-  His name is Shimshek. It means Thunder. When I go to a battle or enter a diplomatic gathering, my dignity reaches there before I do. This makes me the Lightning. After the Lightning, there comes the Thunder. 

+ It is bright. I have known Goliath since he was a baby. I was there when he made his first steps towards his mother. My father gifted him to Sir Vlad when he became the army commander. 

We talked about our family, our memories in castles, in battles. Jaromir had always seen the world differently. His motivations are pure; he only says the right words. when he talks. Since then, I have never forbidden him to leave. I had never locked the door on him, never put guards on him. He didn't go away. 

The Karamanians stood close to the castle. Kartal was handling all the paperwork, and all the Turkic tribes in the continent were aware of the future war. Even Arthuncha were eager to fight against Temur. The parliament was proper; the Turks were trustworthy. After a long, humble while, I felt they accepted me as their ruler, a Turkic leader. I didn't write to Jaromir. I prayed for Tengri that he would write to me first. Then, one Friday, Kartal entered my study room. He reverenced and then told me that King Jaromir went to Rumelia, the only country that didn't pledge alliance to Danishmenthan in the Balkans, and declared they would fight on the side of Temur. I was lost and broken. It was like pain became a needle in my throat. Nobody ever truly forgets what was done in the past.

Kartal continued, "I recommend that we should not spoil that we are aware of their betrayal. We need to get rid of the current vassals to retrieve the Balkans. I can talk with people opposing their kings but have a royal bond to claim rule. Then, all we have to do is kill the vassals. For Tigrisia, there is a bloodline of Past Prince Darcy. We may contact them and demand their fellowship in exchange for making them crowned." His words were helpless. The needle had already reached my lungs; it ebbed every time I breathed. I thought that I was damned with unrequited love. That's the way it was, I thought. I was distanced from my kind. This had driven me to search for a company outside. Now that Turks accepted me, now that they saw me, I felt like this betrayal was meant to be. Deep down, I had always known that it would end agonized. "Do it. Anything for victory," I said—anything for victory.