[ > 𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐋 ]

[ethium]

───────────────────── 𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 ───────
──────── 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 ──────────────

────────────────── 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐎𝐇 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄
─── 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ─────────────

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kalon readopt form by ethium, all artwork and writing is by ethium. please refrain from posting.
readopt thread - original post - theme song: istanbul by they might be giants - username: ethium
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[ethium]

────────────────── 𝐒𝐎 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄
─────── 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐋 ─────────────────

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𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ─ began to grow alarmingly consistent. To the extent that prince Yunus Emre was debating whether to give up on life all together and dash off into the desert. It had been a thought that had entertained the youngest prince of the Arslan kingdom for weeks now as he trudged through his studies and watched his father entertain the foreign representatives in hopes of gaining political knowledge. Not that it should ever matter, as the youngest of three he was hardly in the running line to the throne. If anything he should be lucky to remain alive once his eldest brother Ismail ascended. Even then, the second eldest Kerem would often irritate Yunus to the point of locking himself within his chambers. His brother's favorite pastime seemed to be irritating those beneath him, they knew well that Yunus could do little to prevent it's occurrence and often held that over his head as they taunted and teased. Though in recent years Ismail seemed to have matured out, having realized his ascension would be soon with their father's withering age. He no longer had time to tease, though the same could not be said for Kerem. Now, Yunus was stuck in a boring routine. Even Kerem seemed to have paused in his typical games and had settled down into his own duties. The kingdom's rulers, and the kingdom itself were growing drastically, and a more serious tone had overtaken the grounds in recent weeks. Why? Yunus had been excluded from the true reason, but he had been only one of many to have noticed the sharp mood change. It had set many on edge, for the primarily suspected reasoning behind such a drastic change was that the king was dying. If that was the case, Yunus would likely be excluded. As he always was.

As the youngest prince, he was unnecessary. He often cursed his mother for bringing him into this world, because it was him who took his mother's life while being born. His father, had always looked at Yunus as a source of shame, as the cause of his wife's death and as an unnecessary burden upon the kingdom. Yunus's father already had two sons, there was no reason for a third. Yunus was a mistake, a mistake that had taken the life of a mother, a wife, and the benevolent queen of a country who needed her love. Everyday, Yunus Emre was reminded of this fact in one way or another. Either from the looks cast his way in the halls, or from a direct insult from Kerem. He was an outcast. A stranger, and most importantly, he did not belong. He had long accepted that fact, the unfortunate reality that he was a nobody in a palace that should host somebodies. So, when the day came that his father passed on, Yunus was never invited to see him one last time. Yunus was never admitted entry, and instead was forced to mourn with the rest of the country, when the king was brought out on a dias before the kingdom to be buried beside his queen atop Talha's hill. He stood with the crowds, tears rumbling down his worn cheeks. Though his father had never been kind to him, a death was a death, and the situation required a level of sensitivity that Yunus had always been quick to provide. He had his father's wit and his mother's heart. At least, that was what his nanny Esma had always told him. Now he began to question her words, for merely those of a nanny attempting to comfort a slowly splintering child. He was beyond saving. He was merely the outcast and would never amount to much, if he could ever amount at all.

The thrum of an alarm bell's toll spurred Yunus from sleep, one fateful night. He fought with servants and other citizens of the working class towards the exits in a haze. It wasn't until later that night, that he would discover that both Ismail and Kerem had been assassinated in the night. An Assassin had killed both future king, and heir, in hopes of spurring the country to chaos. They had been unaware that there was a third prince. It would be later, that Yunus Emre would thank his father for the anonymity he had been given as a disgraced son. The assassins were never caught, but now that the third son had been brought into the light, the overwhelming responsibility to protect not only himself, but now his grieving kingdom grew heavy upon his shoulders. He was now the heir to a kingdom, when three days prior he was merely the forgotten prince, who would never amount to anything. He began preparations immediately, for the burial of his brothers atop Talha. The ceremonies, and funeral went according to plan, and it was here that his advisers chose to announce Yunus's claim to the throne. The kingdom, though skeptical, were merely glad to have a future king once again. Someone to claim their chaos and hopefully null it to the point where it wouldn't be felt any longer. Peace was a thing of the past, and these tragedies merely added to the turmoil within the splintering country. Yumas began to worry he would struggle picking up the pieces.

----- the king's chamber had finally grown silent. The servants had finished their duties, and the candle's tallow had long melted away. However within the bedchamber a bedraggled and sorrowful yunus sat, sprawled over the desk of his father. He could still smell the fine polish that had been used prior to his father's death. It had been his father's favorite, and his father himself had often smelt of it on the brief occasions yunus was granted an audience. Before the young heir lay hastily scrawled documents, each needing something of him or something the kingdom would require in the future. A fog settled over his mind, likely due to his lack of sleep recently as he lay there inhaling the scents of his father. Being the heir was exhausting, and it was an exhaustion that provoked caution and concern. The assassins had yet to be caught, and while they were still out there remained a threat against his life. Where his personal guard resided at the moment was beyond Yunus as he finally forced his still bones from the chair and began to hazily stumble towards the great bed. However a shadow on the far wall forced a pause from Yunus, who stared at it quizzically. It took less than a moment for the youngest heir to have metal at his throat and a figure to his back.

"Good evening youngest prince." a smooth voice spoke in his ear, he could practically hear the grin behind the figure's words.
"Evening." he shakily responded, his throat bobbing against the knife pressed to it. "What'cha say we settle down and have a nice, civilized chat hm?" the figure asked, though it felt more like an order as the cloaked figure directed Yunus towards a nearby chair. "Though I don't typically offer a deal to those i'm ordered to.. eliminate.." Yunus suppressed a shiver, and knew very well what this was about. The assassins had finally caught up to him, and tonight would be the night of judgement. "However, with you being unexpected an' all- I've decided to make you a proposition of sorts." Yunus swallowed but remained silent, lest the knife the assassin now absentmindedly twirled end up across his throat once more. "You have two options Yunus Emre, the disgraced son of kingdom arslan, Run or die. If you choose to flee, you must never return. You must leave this country, and it's people, forever. You are free to go, no strings attached. If I catch you here in these lands, should you choose to run, I will kill you just as I did your siblings. Death, is quite simply, death. Your brothers never had a choice, nor did they have a chance. You, on the other hand have one. So? What will it be great heir? Keep in mind my patience grows thin, and my time limit wanes as the moon. If you refuse to make a decision soon, I will make it for you. Believe me, you don't want me to make it for you." the assassin now fixed it's gaze on him, urging him to make this horrifying decision. Wringing his hands Yunus's eyes narrowed. "Run."

Yunus Emre chose to flee the country and save his own life, putting himself before the needs of his people. He was decreed as deceased, (orchestrated by the assassin) and the kingdom fell under foreign rule. Yunus however, was far away from his country, and chose to live with his mind. and the punishments that come with saving yourself before your kingdom.

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[ethium]

────────────────── 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒?
────── 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐊𝐒 ──────────────

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𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐖 ─ Yunas Emre chose to make the most of his second chance, and promptly changed his name from Yunas Emre to Yasin, a simple traveling merchant who knew more than he let on. He was more than comfortable within this anonymous lifestyle. Travelling the deserts with his camel Raz, he exchanged goods frequently with smaller border towns. Never once did he dare show his face in a more prominent city, despite the subtle tips sent his way by fellow traders who insisted the fare was better in a larger, populated area. He had never enjoyed ruling, it's exhaustion still weighed on his mind from time to time. A reminder of what he had given up to get where he stood now, and a reminder that he could never return. The disgraced son was no more, now he was a new man. A new life had been given to him, and yasin couldn't help but feel partially grateful for such a chance. To be given the opportunity to restart at everything he had failed at. Time went on however, and the border towns began to find better deals with other traders. His pickings and goods began to become common place, and yasin could no longer compete with the luxury's the northern silk road provided to the rich. Lower class merchants had begun to trade common items to the lower classes, and his prices began to become undesirable compared to the others who provided far better bargains. He was being drove out of business, and this lack of trade eventually forced him to sell raz in hopes of providing food for himself. Now a lowly trader without a camel or any means of transportation, yasin wandered and finally settled down in a small province off the coast of the black sea, east of istanbul. Here he remained, finding side jobs and work when he could to eventually save up for things he needed to survive the night.

It was a particularly moist morning, with the air hot, humid and sticky. Yasin had just finished mucking out the stalls of the local stables, and wiped the sweat from his brow with anxious energy. The air wasn't right today, and that typically meant trouble when it came to small towns such as this. It was high time yasin made his way home, lest he desired to grow involved in whatever scheme was looming upon the horizon. He had no intentions of ruining this second chance, though it was labor filled, it was still a life. After finishing the job, and receiving payment yasin scurried towards the alleyways, eager to launch himself over the far-wall and return to his make-shift abode. His home, though far from the luxuries of the castle, felt more like home than anywhere else he had chosen to settle. As he left the stables however, and made his getaway back the far wall, his gaze caught on soldiers. This froze him in his tracks. They were harassing an older woman, who was ferociously hissing back at them in defense. However, her frail form would be no match against the three armed soldiers who were now attempting to push her out of sight. Most likely to rob her. With a narrowed gaze, he let out a low growl, before taking a final glance at his home. This would most likely be the last time he ever saw it. If he chose to engage these soldiers, and he lost, he'd be imprisoned for the rest of his known life. With that bared his teeth and dropped from the wall, marching towards the soldiers with ferocity in his gaze.

"Hey! What gives boys?" he asked, and watched as each turned their attention to him with a menacing grin.
"The lady owes us a few bucks sir. Carry on." yasin scowled. "If my grandmother owes you a few bucks, then you can take it up with me." Now this had their attention, and he watched as the third guard squirmed slightly. This was more than they had bargained for, they weren't prepared to meet a "relative". The woman, though momentarily confused, realized what he was doing and began to side-step away from the soldiers as subtly as she could. Good. She was making her escape, a wise decision considering three armed guards against him, who had no visible weapon, wouldn't last long. "Well then, if your her relative-" the first guard smirked, seeming to call his bluff the more he looked at yasin. "Tell me, how far did the gene pool sway then? Hm? Your mother flirt around or?" he growled low within his throat. "Clearly, something occurred for your quite.. well.. blue." a chorus of chuckles from the other soldiers. "Compared to her, well, cream? don't you think?" Now the guard was edging closer. The old women forgotten, yasin the new target. He was being advanced on, and the feeling of being hunted had never crept up his spine as surely as it did in this moment.

The brawl was short lived. The soldiers had him down in minutes. Yasin had never been a fighter, hence his prior decision to flee the assassin. Now they hoisted him up by his arms, shackles had been quickly emblazoned upon his wrists. Their grip upon him was like fiery coals, iron tight, and painful as they jerked him about and dragged him towards the outskirts of town. His fate was in their hands, at this point yasin doubted he'd survive the night. He had been foolish, to save the woman, but in any case the decision was made and there was nothing yasin could do to change the past. Upon reaching the outskirts of the town

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