Arzealous woke suddenly in his head he could still hear the vague distant cry that shook him out of his stupor. He rubbed his face and slapped his cheeks and yawned deeply; he had been out for some hours and was quite thankfully refreshed. The Sky was a deep sapphire; morning would soon be upon them. A man brought him a bowl to wash in, and quietly informed him that he was to attend the Emperor. Arzealous shot up, the Emperor. Quickly he threw the cloth down that he had been given and rushed to the palace.
The streets thankfully were quiet, he stopped a moment, there was a burning ashy smell to the air. It was mixed in with the sea breeze, a strange combination, seagulls hovered overhead screeching at the coming morning. He briskly walked the open pathway to Justinian’s House; he could not explain it but there was something that told him to make haste and as an Angelos he could not ignore such a feeling.