Warriors live by the blade, their hearts guided through the clanging sound of the flying swords. Amid the battle, their will and flesh harden by training and battle, keeping them alive. Feral, cruel, ravenous or sore, soldier let their soul be filled with sheer bestiality. Alone or by thousands, three things stand between them and insanity: "Hope, love and order."

Hope is given by words, Love is given by hearts, and order is given by the mind.

In Argolis, the mightful kingdom of the Aeolian Sea, the symbol of Hope was the king Gamenon of Argos, Also called the conqueror of the West Shore, the unstoppable force who led his people to trample hundreds before them. He was the Hope of an Argolis reigning alone in the southern part of the continent of Themyscaria. 

In the same mentality, the force of Argolis was residing in his people. It was said that lovers of their lands and culture, each and every man, from peasants to nobles, was dedicated to the kingdom that gave them everything. Fame, wealth and security; never would any of them think that one day, the hegemony of the Argolian would be at risk.

All of that, revolting on the failure of one man. The representant of the "order," the mind leading armies through the force of the Aeolians kingdom for years, the legendary counsellor and strategos of Argolis. Oneiroi, son of Herodotus, also called Oni the Dreamer. 

At least, that's what Oneroi set himself to believe for years. 

If he had taken the right decision if only that night he would have foreseen that attack, if only he would have accomplished what was expected of him.

 Everyone would still be alive, Argolis would still stand…. and King Gamenon, his closest friend, would still be at his side.

 Now, all that stays in the utterly empty shell of its body are his dreamless nights yielded in his mind full of guilt. Yet, like a feeble fire in a cold winter, a flimsy light keeps Oneroi alive. A single idea that slowly bloomed in his brain, digging its roots through his vessels and guiding his heartbeats. An idea that became a statement, a statement that became hope.

 The hope that even after 25 years, it was nothing more than a long dream waiting to be stopped. The fruit of his complex and powerful mind. The force and key of its acknowledged intellect.

So even in his lunacy, Oneroi stays silent, waiting day and night to be gently waked up by the side of his old friend a few hours before the tragic battle that engulfed the streets of Argolis…..

—

26 April, age of Vaeris

"fif-fifty thousands, dozing until the sunset, waiting patiently," mumbled Oneroi, lying on the bed. His eyes shut; only his mouth moved periodically, detailing scenery, pieces of equipment, images, numbers, or even positioning. At each point, the calm of the extensive commander's tent was interrupted by the voice of the counsellor and the scribes furiously noting each and every word with the utmost attention.

 Four were sitting on small wooden benches, with eyes moving between the sleeping man and the paper flying off their hands after a few sentences, only to join the pile at their sides. 

The luxurious red tent was marked by multiple geometrical forms embroidered directly on the fabric, Filled with instruments and furniture, all made of gold or numerous precious stones, The place was in an organized mess, almost forming a gigantic puzzle of information: ships, troops, maps or even archive of previous battles. Documents were omnipresent in every corner of the tents.

Suddenly, heavy steps were heard from out of the tents, shaking lightly the ground and stopping the mumbling of Oneroi. They surrounded the room and stopped instantly. The veil placed as a door opened delicately as a large man entered. Dressed in luxurious red clothes with gold spread on his extremities, the first things that led the gaze of the scribes were the massive gray beard, the vibrant, long and heavy black and white hair and the crown standing upon it. Tall of 2 meters and imposant like a lion, the presence of the king of Argolis was an announcement in itself.

At the instant of his entry, the four scribes put their papers aside and kneeled before him. Without answering, Gamenon smiled and touched the head of each of them delicately so they could straighten their back.

"Your majesty, king of Argolis and the nations of the west shore," shouted one of the scribes. The oldest of the four. "it is a pleasure to stand in your presence…." 

Gamenon shook his head in approbation and fetched one of the chairs around the table where the map of Argos and the surroundings lay. On it, the capital was presented in its absolute grandeur—the inner walls of the agora and the king's chamber. Leading outside of it to a large city of 365 km² in the form of half a circle. The town stretched to the Aeolian Sea, and almost a third of the city border faced the water. Multiple fortified ports were constructed, with eight main gates opening themselves to lead ships to multiple decks. With the wall stretching high of 9 meters with multiple fortified towers, the city of Argos was known as impenetrable. 

Yet it wasn't stopping the force of the union of Aeolantis, represented by blue little soldiers on the battle map. An extensive covenant of kingdoms bordering the Aeolian Sea or Argolis, all assembled under the free cities of Aeolantis and his king Euphemes. At the sight of the blue soldier encircling his capital, the smile of Gamenon flickered for a moment.

He took one of the small pieces with two of his fingers and pulled it closer to his eyes.

"The forces of the coward Euphemes, begging for sovereignty," whispered Gamenon.

" I am a saviour of some at the price of so many foes. In my sight, upon my home, all that remains are those countless souls fetching my head. For the supremacy of that little stretch of water, how far can one fight "O"?"

 He crushed the figurine between his fingers and stared toward the bed as the remnant fell on the table. " Does our strategos now have a better vision of what to expect?"

"The results are the same as before, Your Majesty. The Union is at its last stretch, and the force standing before us are the best armies they could assemble on such short notice." said one of the scribes, scrutinizing the notes and papers. "It is very likely that they will attack tonight…."

While the scribe explained the intricacy behind their conclusions, Gamenon stood up and walked to the side of the bed. He knew too well the details of that attack, at least the essential part. 

Euphemes and his senate were reaching their limit. They used fear to assemble the second-largest alliance the south of the continent had ever seen.

 In the same manner, the free cities had been forged from an alliance against the king of Aeo, Baal Hamon, hundreds of years before; Euphemes became a leader of a Union against the tyrant, King Gamenon —that same one who was now cornered and forced to launch a decisive attack.

"So to summarize your highness…."

"They are anguished," added Oneroi over the scribe while yawning. "It is not likely that they will attack tonight. They will."

Gamenon's smile regained his vigour, his lips pushing from each corner of his face. He held up his large right hand over the bed and smashed the dark bedspread and the poor man below it.

"Get your cold feet on the warm deck, sleep addict!"

When the heavy hands of Gamenon reached Oneroi, he instantly curled up and stretched his hands to retaliate at the surprise of the scribes. His palm gave a light mark on the cheek of the king, who didn't even react. They stared at each other for a moment and busted simultaneously.

"Sturdy bastard, did they soak you in iron when you were young?" said Oneroi while shaking his hand, still reddened by the hit.

"Oh, you will be surprised. It's either that or you are simply too tender, soft palm."

"I will suffice myself with my own theory, grumpy lion."

Oneroi pushed his blanket and slipped into his sandals on the side. He knocked the chest of Gamenon and strolled to the table after grabbing the pile of paper at his side.

"If I knew I would have the chance to be wake up by the king himself, I would have dressed better than this."

"You say that as if we don't rely on you."

 While following his friend, the king pulled the scribes with him.

"You will not be needed anymore, good men. Go relieve yourself in the name of our coming victory and…." He snatched an insignia from his pocket and threw it at them. "Call Nestor, Aeghis and their officers. Show them that badge and ask them to join us." 

They stared respectively at the crest in their hands in the form of a flame. A red, dry stain was drooling on the insignia upon the crystalline silver below. That dark red mugish paint was known to be the blood of the king himself, a distinguishing indication of the value of the words the bearer of that crest wielded.

"Y-your majesty, this is…."

"And go fetch few provisions for yourself, scribes." He lowered his voice, "May you enjoy that temporary gift."

They hesitated for a moment but finally made their way outside. Their eyes met those of Oneroi. Upon his simple garments, attached to a single string, a similar pendant was dangling.

"You shouldn't give the most honorific jewel you possess to any commoners, my king." Said the strategos while hovering over the notes of his scribes.

"Haha, are you perhaps jealous?" questioned Gamenon with a smirk. "A poor scribe having for a mere moment that much leverage over our army, Perhaps that could shake the stake of our upcoming wars!" he had with satire. He took the same chair he had used before and googled the maps on the nearby walls.

"If that were enough to all assemble them to a single banner, I would kindly relegate my throne to any commoner "O." He added with a taint of fatigue. 

Oneroi put down the paper and stared at Gamenon for a moment. His green eyes stared into the deep, dark ones of his friend. Wrinkles were covering his face, fused with multiple scars of old battles. Without a smile on his face, the age of the king could not be hidden behind his beard or long hair. 

Gamenon was tired.

"You should request again to the assembly of Ekh; Maybe after our victory today?" expressed Oneroi with dedication. Walking toward the king, who simply focuses on the map. "This is your right as a king, I did it, how could you not…."

"It is enough!" shouted Gamenon, freezing Oneroi in place. The king took a deep breath as the twenties face of the strategos sank slowly. "It is enough," added Gamenon while forcing a smile on his friend, regaining his usual poise.

Oneroi knew how lucky he was and the chance he had to be selected by the Ekh. 

They were the most influential organization in the Far East, far from Themyscaria and its occidental wrangle. They possessed the most desired Thelema in the world, the power of longevity wielded by their great shaman, Ekh'ba. Only two people each year could see themselves extending their youth and multiplying their lifespan by two. The assembly chose each year which influential figure in the world deserves that unique gift.

Sixteen years before, prior to Oneroi meeting Gamenon, he and his brother received that gift on behalf of their sick father. A few years ago, the same opportunity came upon Gamenon after establishing the new capital, but the fee for a longer life was heavy. A price that a childless Gamenon could not pay. 

Seeing his friend's smile, Oneroi couldn't help himself but harbour the same expression. Relieving the king, whose smile became natural again.

"An old fool of a king, disregarding the advice of his strategos," said Oneroi, magnifying his words.

"A rare privilege of power," added Gamenon.

"Those people shan't be fooled by their selfish desire. In true, upon the crown of a rightful king bear the burden of his people." recited Oneroi, his sight lost in those of his friend. He sat down and faced the king, whose eyes were directed to the battlefield portrayed on the table.

"Am I wrong?"

"I am not wielding it alone "O." said the king with an unwavering voice. Oneroi couldn't help himself to smile.

"Maybe, but only maybe," added the king while clasping one of the red figures on the board. "If we happen to whoop the Aeolantis bastard tonight and brand the head of Euphemes on a pike."

He used the red piece to knock out brutally the whole blue army of figurines laid at the door of Argos. Laughing loudly with a deep, low voice. 

"Then I will seriously consider the advice of my most beloved advisor," said Gamenon happily. Some of the pieces fell on the ground and rolled to the feet of the counsellor.

Oneroi stayed silent for a moment. Gamenon gazed at him, awaiting an answer. His eyes closed themself for a moment, lost in his thought. Images sprawled themself in his head for mere seconds that lasted minutes.

In these mere moments of vagrancy, vistae sprawled in his eyes.

A wildfire spread upon the city, with thousands of bodies falling through the gates. Lights crawled from the ground as the screams of the citizens stretched through the city, the sea covered in darkish blood. Dark shadow gloom over the streets as the strategos walked to the city, then in front of him, the north doors separating the men of Aeolantis and Argos opening from inside. A figure turned the handle as a cry replaced the squeaking. An ominous sensation filled him as he approached the figure, then nothing—pitch black. 

His eyes opened, and the tent was full of soldiers of diverse ranks and positions. The king was sat in the opposite of his chair, with a grim look on the map. Two men were standing at his side. 

At his left stood a small man named Nestor. Large, broad and fair, his nose was long and hooked. His face was crackling by the time but still holding a confident presence.

 At his right was a slim, charismatic man named Aeghis with a smooth and effeminate face. Even with his bruises, he still wielded a beautiful look that could blush even the pretentious princesses of Galia.

In this order, they were both the second and third commanders of the armies of Gamenon.

Behind them were standing amongst numerous officers, three people covered by long red and black capes. 

All were silently looking at Oneroi, confused.

"So strategos, a beauty sleep before the battle? A bit spirited from the leader of those-"

"Aeghis!" shouted Gamenon over him.

Aeghis simply smirked and stepped back.

"Your Highness," said Nestor with a sophisticated voice. Crouching himself to reach the sitting king."perhaps our strategos saw things that could help us finally cut to the best action plan. Long ago in the battle of Sainar, my men and I were stuck in the sand of Zazimar, a single word from me and…." The second commander continues to talk for minutes and concludes, "So wise words in a tumultuous moment could even clear the most violent shadowy clouds."

A silence resonated through the room. The eyes of Oneroi were focused on the battle map where the strategy he himself proposed was defined. 

The force of the Union was almost 90,000 men, plus an armada of ships down by the Aeolian south coast. At least a strength of 650 ships. However, the most robust point of Argos was facing the water, where the hardened eight gates were standing, protected by catapults and ballistae arranged throughout the walls.

 That was even without relying on the Philemes armada of Aeghis, strong of 150 fast ships reinforced by the modern advancement of the engineer of the capital. Ships fast, swift but robust; known to be worth ten vessels by themself. The Africanas fleet of Gamenon was already recognized as one of the strongest, and the talent as naval commander of Aeghis was not even questioned. With the dissuasive ballista and the maritime support, a siege by water was not even consider

With the immediate menace of the sea out of place, the only siege option for the Union was the Northern main Gates, which received severe damage during the numerous unsuccessful attacks of the Union on the capital. Now that the new machine of the free cities had arrived a day before, they were indeed confident that the walls would not withstand another full-length attack. 

It has been almost three months since the Union made blocus around Argos, waiting for those devices. A blocus on the sea that Argolis reiterated by holding off position with their affiliated nation on the land, draining the rations of their opponent. With the food lacking and the pressure of the senate and allies nations, the Union and Euphemes were forced to use the moonless night to throw a last full-length attack that same night.

The plan was to let them believe that the north wall was weakened and discreetly send Nestor and a small patrol to the Gasan woods, protected by the Thelema of Giv Khodavad, Misrecollect. A gift from God that lets the user input temporary information into a human. It is used as a stealth ability to let them pass upon the enemy field by erasing their presence from the soldier's mind.

 In these woods, an army of 35,000 men from the allied territories of Argolis was finally waiting to pinch the desperate enemy troops. 

By using the night, The naval fleet of the Union will be held abay by Aeghis and the Philemes Armada. The 21,000 men of Argos will hold the position on the wall and wait safely for it to fall. Nestor will prepare and move the additional army into place during that time. 

When the walls of Argos fall, the men inside will be ready to hold position while the reinforcement will cut the Union from the back.

The northern side of the cities, with intricate roads and small alleys, will reduce the mobility of the Union inside the capital and create an opportunity for multiple ambushes. 

Then, the force of Nestor will march and attack the main encampment of the Union to push them to fall back. When they do so, the city soldier will launch a counterattack, and by simple positioning, Argos will launch an envelopment. Disoriented, blinded by darkness, lacking order and organization. The 90,000 men of the Union will become nothing more than lambs waiting to be slain.

A swift and lethal attack that will shake the confidence of the Union and crumble their alliance. With the weakened state of the free cities, Philemes possible death and the loss of so many men. The Senate will enter a state of fright that Gamenon would use to attack the archipelago before they regain their momentum.

At least that was the move the table of Argolis was setting into motion. However, some elements were working against that plan.

"75,000 men are standing in their main camp," said Nestor, cutting the silence. "They disassembled all their secondary camp and reunited in a single one to the north. Letting the east and west gates with almost no guard. In no siege, I ever saw that kind of redeployment."

"Perhaps they don't see a utility to keep pressure there," added one of the officers.

"That doesn't make sense," mumbled Oneroi. "We are well aware that even if we let troops move from those gates, first, they will see them from their main camp. The fields around the city have been burned to ashes, and we don't possess the firepower necessary to accomplish that kind of motion."

"We could if citizens were to join our ranks," said Aeghis briefly. The heavy eyes of Gamenon fell into him; he smirked and back down in reddition.

"We don't need to go against the words of our king. Never a citizen should fight against his will," said Nestor.

"Those are the exact words that drove us here. We have almost 200,000 people in there, but only 21,000 willing and ready to battle," added Aeghis with vivacity. "I told you that we cannot win a war by only taking the volunteers."

"We are still winning this war, third commandeer Aeghis," said Nestor

"We are still…." mumbled Aeghis. "For how much time? We have over 20,000 soldiers waiting in Phocies, 45.000 on the land of Bramhar, and 25,000 more overseeing the islands of Eremis, but from all our conquests, they only sent us 36,000?"

"36,000 heavily equipped and trained Argolian," said Nestor promptly

"Mixed with the shits of those fallen nations."

Aeghis swiftly moved and positioned himself at the side of Gamenon, whose eyes didn't budge from the map. He bent, slowly lowering his body so the king could see his seriousness.

"Your Highness, you wielded the crown of the saviour for so many years, showing compassion and pity, but how far did it bring you? The people of Argolis are lazy and too reliant on the army you have built through your win. That same army is now spread around your provinces to safeguard those dogs we call vassal nations."

"Aeghis!" shouted Nestor.

"It is time for the people of Argolis to pay back what they owe you!"

The eyes of all officers and commanders moved toward the king. Silent and still, his arms were stretched on the table, his hands firmly closed. His expression was unclear to the others but comprehensive for his friend. Oneroi knew the position of the lord of Argos.

 The capital was more than the heart of Argolis; it was explicitly an immense commercial road where countless foreigners were branching to commerce in the south of Themyscaria. Argos was a new city, the symbol of the conquest of Gamenon. Situated in the middle of the territory he coveted and also the old localization of the capital of Aeo, Lossa. The place where the ancestor of the Argolian lost against the union hundreds of years before. 

The same menace was glooming to Argos, fighting to escape the same fate. 

"Stranded at the door of death, Baal turned his eyes to the sky, his hands brazing the highest clouds, his feet feeling the hottest flame of Helios." recited Gamenon, moving his face slowly towards the sunlight piercing the tent's cloth. "God who blessed the unworthy, Light who enlighted the blind. Guide my heart and soul to the most welcome home of salvation. The land of reason and answer. And as he shouted to the sky, a halo of light descended from the heaven and sank around its most precious ally."

He lowered his eyes and pointed in the direction of Oneroi. He looked at him and smiled lightly.

"That was the answer of god, the will of heaven, the first Thelema to be gifted."

"Some may say it was a gift of demon…." said nonchalantly Oneroi, visibly annoyed.

"And yet it was the will of God, Thelema!" Shouted the king. "The sight of his friend that guided him through his last moment." He added while standing up.

"I am not a chosen, Your Highness. No were as reliable as our three Thelema wielders." enunciated Oneroi promptly, turning his head toward the cape men.

"I call you friend, commoner calls you strategos, but story call you Oni, the dreamer! Even without God's power, the high strategist of the army of Argolis sees the future battlefields via his deepest sleep." displayed the king with sweet words.

"Never you failed us, "O." You have my full trust. " He added with a warm expression.

"The king is right. Through the hardest times, warriors fumbled, but never they gave up. A kingdom is ruled by a king but guided by a man of wits. You are the closest to that title, the reason why our soldiers and city people are still blindly confident in our fate. Even when the odds are against us, and to be honest, this is nowhere as complicated that the…."

"Nestor" cut the king.

"Humpf humph," mumbled the second commander while clearing his voice. "But I agree, if you advise this operation, we can only but move forward with it."

One by one, the officers and soldiers present in the room agreed with those statements. The heavy atmosphere became brighter as the trust of each of them reinforced itself with the thought of all they had accomplished before at the side of Gamenon and his special strategos.

They were all believing, not in their strength or the divine benediction that seemed to hover them since Gamenon took the throne, but in the words of the only man who could confidently stand at his side for so many years.

Aeghis, surrounded by all of them, simply looked at the ground silently. The king stood up and patted his back.

"I know Aeghis, I know…."

The third commander raised his neck to face the king, standing tall at his side. 

"The price that Philemes had to pay for Argolis couldn't be repaid by anyone, even me," said Gamenon. "His genius and the power of his people are still the last stretch of dignity that Argos possessed now surrounded by so many foreigners. Even I understand why you would want the people of Argos, standing in the remnant of your ancestor's old capital, to quarrel for it. To protect it. Like your father and grandfather did."

Aeghis lowered his head, his long hair hiding his face. 

"I will protect that land at your side, Aeghis, son of Philemes," added the king calmly

The commander stared silent for a moment. Looking blindly at the fallen blue soldier on the ground. He lowered his arm and grabbed it before giving it to his king. He smiled and dropped the piece in the giant hand of the king.

"If you believe in him, your highness, so I will. As always"

Gamenon nodded and walked toward Oneroi, still looking unsure at the enthusiastic crowd. 

"So strategos," started the king. "What did you see?"

"I, I…"

Everything Oneroi saw on this last day was pushing things to an immense victory for Argos, but…

"Yes, what is your conclusion?" added. Nestor with interrogation

All that plan was set up, taking into consideration every information he had been able to collect. Those were weeks of nights of visions leading toward the same conclusion, but….

"We are waiting strategos," said Aeghis impatiently.

This last day, something felt unwell in him. Those dreams he had were intertwined with a concept of darkness. An incomprehensible paranormal antagonist. A fictional enemy who, against all odds, will trample Argos. That conclusion in his vision was persistent and was definitively the fruit of information he had integrated the day before. A detail that needed to be included in his analysis. Even in the midst of the battle, he forced himself to sleep, only for that dream to reappear suddenly in sporadic moments.

Although there was no reasonable reasoning behind that vision, no explanation, not a single thing worked against his plan's success. 

"Oneroi? Is there an issue?" said Gamenon, worry

An issue, it was right, but how would he explain it? Never did he decide without logical judgment-making. No life should gamble without surety. That was his motto, and now he couldn't relinquish it. He needed to answer with rational thinking.

"O…."

"No, there is not, Your Majesty!" cut Oneroi over the king.

 Gamenon stayed silent for a moment. He stared at his friend, filled with a discomfort expression. 

"Argos will vanquish," Oni added subtly to the pleasure of the soldiers. He forced a smile on his lips that conquered everyone.

Around him, the Officier shouted joyfully, already celebrating their soon-to-start victory walk. Even amid that anticipated heresy, Gamenon waited and finally exhaled. 

"Let's rethink our strategy."

"What?" exclaimed Oneroi suddenly, stopping the festivity momentarily.

"Your majesty, he said we are good to go," added Nestor.

The king's face hardened as his eyes closed for a moment. He then opened them and looked at the ceiling of the tents. A bright yellow light was piercing through the delicate but sturdy veil.

"We are not." He said promptly."Let's wait and act accordingly to the Union, but from behind our walls. Until we find a better way to deal with things."

At his answer, all the heads of the officials started turning at each other with curiosity. The decision was not in accordance with the previous attitude of their leader. What was he seeing that they were not able? They wanted to ask a myriad of questions, but their mouths were shut by the oath they had taken. Only Nestor took the initiative to share his immediate thoughts.

"Your majesty, those same walls will become our graves if we stay here," he said unbidden.

"Do you have a better idea?" asked the king without even looking at his commander, surprised by his heaviness. The king was crude and direct. 

"We have the clearance of our strategos," said Aeghis calmly. "You said it yourself. He is our chosen." A satirical smirk covered the last sentence of Aeghis. His words were obviously not shared by his speaker but used by suitability.

The king stayed silent; he lowered his look before looking again to Oneroi.

"Is it your last word?" he said serenely. 

The eyes of Oneroi were still in turmoil. Hesitation fused in his mind. He was fighting not to show his indecisiveness. He needed to answer, but his body was frozen, covered by a looming shadow. Never did he feel that before. Never did he feel the weight of the words he was carrying. A truth that became the first pain he felt in such a long time. 

Was it what Gamenon was carrying every day? A sensation that could shut even the wittiest of the scholar.

"Oneroi, be honest with me. Is it all you saw?" added the king upon the silence following his previous words. "If there is anything, I will put aside everything until you have a clear mind, so please tell me. Is it all?"

"Your Highness, we can't afford to."

"Nestor, I am asking him…." cut the king upon his second commander.

"There is nothing more," mumbled Oneroi. "There is nothing more that I saw, Gamenon," he added with conviction.

The king frowned and finally relaxed his body. His face cleared, and his expression became more jolly.

"Then it is done!" he shouted, clapping his hands with strength and brightening the room with each clap. Everyone followed his movement and began to laugh and smile with certainty. In an instant, the dark cloud looming over the military tents softened and disappeared entirely. Assurance was now filling again the heart of the men inside.

Gamenon walked toward Oni and bowed his large body sufficiently low to reach the level of the seat strategos.

 "Sorry to have doubted you, really," he said softly, his hand on the shoulder.

"That's ok, old friend?" answered the young man with affection.

"Ok, men, let's claim what is ours!" shouted Gamenon while raising his arm and the one of his friend, forcing Oneroi to stand by his side. "an utterly unmatched domination on that darn sea and soon. Only we will stand in the south of Themyscaria! That's a promise!"

"That's a promise!" repeated the assembly in a single voice.

"That's a promise…." added Oneroi with a feeble voice. 

He never had to lie to Gamenon before, but in the last moment, he had concluded that it was the absolute solution—the only correct answer to give.

 He was sure to have conquered each and every soul in the room only because the king let himself believe in his words. But hidden in the tents, the final piece darkening the vision of Oneroi was finally placed.

A piece that Oneroi didn't have the time to grasp, leading to the irrefutable end of the story—the conclusion written in all of the storybooks of the next century.

The fall of Argolis and his leader, Gamenon of Argos, at the hands of the Union's most trustworthy Suffetes and magistrate. 

—- 

Twenty-five years later, all that remains on that lonely wooden bench in the middle of the small village of Lilaia is an empty husk of flesh. The dust of an oh-so-elevated empire was reduced to words. The past was now a far-off dream in the mind of the people of Themyscaria. But a dream nevertheless.

In some, a dream filled with hope. In other a dream filled with love.

That dream was absolute in the earth of the young soldier who was now entering the same village. And all that was lacking for it to become real was….

Order

An order that rhymed with Oneroi for the young captain Orestes of Argos.