Alexandria

This short nap turned into a good eleven hour sleep. Mehmed had been awake for about forty-five-minutes now. He got out of the shower thirty minutes ago and by now, was dressed in his everyday black robes, with his black Bork hat decorated with the gold. Mehmed had been walking around the rooms he could look around in, as the sun rose on the city. Mehmed, once finished, returned to his chair, where he preferred it the most. It was around nine in the morning now. Today was the day he was due to return home to Lanorth.   Mehmed was deep in thought. Mostly about the previous few days - what had happened, what he had been doing, etc. He thought about Sabriye, whom, by this time, had been buried back in Lanorth. He thought about Halil Pasha, what he would do with him. And about Zaganos Pasha - how he may react to his plans. Mehmed then shook his head briefly, knowing that he should cross that bridge when he got to it.   Mehmed glanced behind him as he heard footsteps behind him, clicking against the floor. Mehmed saw his servant, Emine. Mehmed stood up, facing her. "Emine, good morning." Said Mehmed, smiling.   "Morning,  Sultan." She replied, smiling back. "Are you ready for your breakfast, or would you like to wait a while longer?" She asked.   "It depends what time we are scheduled to leave the country." Mehmed replied. Emine smiled briefly. "I believe we leave at three in the afternoon, so we would arrive back home around nine this evening." Mehmed nodded. "In which case, yes, I'll have my breakfast now, thank you." Mehmed replied.   "I'll let the cooks know." Emine said. She bowed and Mehmed replied by nodding his head.   Before you go, Emine." Said Mehmed. Emine turned, inclining her head slightly. "Yes?" She asked.   "Give your honest opinion on my attire, Emine." Mehmed said. Emine's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. Mehmed took notice of this. "I'm serious, you know." He insisted.   "I don't doubt-" Emine said, however she was interrupted by Mehmed, who performed a hand gesture, indicating he wanted her to spit it out. "I would prefer something a bit more modern than robes. I would like it if there wasn't policies governing on how people may dress in Lanorth and I am sure the whole populace would." She said. Mehmed shrugged.   "Maybe." He said. "Thank you, Emine." She nodded and turned back around, walking off. Mehmed thought about what she had said. 'Maybe she's right.' He thought. 'Maybe Lanorth does need to advance into the future concerning fashion.' He then dwelled into this thought. 'We allowed our soldiers to do it. Why should the people be different?' He then thought about his father, the laws he had implemented concerning fashion, and how Mehmed had not even considered to lift this law. Mehmed sighed.   Mehmed, when the man came to take his order, ordered a simple breakfast, a fried egg in a sandwich. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry and didn't want anything fancy, nor did he want to rush the cooks. He ate it quite quickly.   Mehmed sighed, standing up, before pushing his chair in. He lifted his plate, taking it over to Emine, who was waiting for him. Mehmed smiled. "Thank you." As she walked away, Mehmed turned on the spot, facing the window he had spent the majority of the time. He walked over to the basket, as Emine returned. Mehmed took the cigarettes from within the basket and took one out, before pocketing the rest. Mehmed placed it between his lips, holding it firmly, before lighting it. Mehmed inhaled, allowing the smoke to once again, fill his lungs. Mehmed took his thumb and index finger, removing the cigarette from his lips, exhaling the smoke sharply.   Mehmed admired the view out of the window, once more. He glanced down at his sword. He sighed, as he thought of all the people the blade had murdered, in vain or in cold blood. He thought of the man his father was, a tough man on the inside with a frail outside. He sighed, thinking once more. Mehmed placed his free hand on the handle of the sword and suddenly, it came to him. Mehmed knew, at that moment, he was everything his father wanted him to be. Mehmed smiled to himself, breathing out as he did. He raised the cigarette up to his mouth, once again. He stood there, admiring the view, for a good while.   Mehmed was interrupted by the voice of Emine. "Excuse me, Sultan..." Said Emine. Mehmed shook his head slightly, before he turned to face Emine. Mehmed raised his head slightly. Emine bowed her head, once again. Mehmed's gaze remained on Emine.   "Yes, Emine, what is it." Said Mehmed, sounding rather irritated.   "Your convoy has arrived outside, Sultan." Emine said. "The departure has been rearranged, I attempted to tell you before, however you seemed to be deep in thought." Mehmed chuckled.   "How long has it been?" Mehmed asked.   "About an hour." Emine said. Mehmed thought to himself;   'I really need to stop doing that sort of thing.'   Mehmed nodded. "Okay." He said. "Are all of my belongings packed?" He asked. Emine nodded.   "Yes." She said reassuringly.   "Very good. Lets go." He said. Emine nodded. Mehmed stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it into the rubbish bin. He straightened his robes out slightly, brushing them down, before he used his right hand to grip the handle of the sword, before walking out of the floor. He approached the lift, pressing the button to take him to the bottom floor. Emine stood beside him, her hands resting behind her back. Mehmed was significantly shorter than Mehmed, standing at 5'5, however Mehmed was 6'0. Mehmed adjusted his bork hat swiftly, straightening it out, before the lift came to a stop. Mehmed's hand lowered to his side, as the lift door opened. Mehmed was greeted by rows of photographers. Mehmed raised his free hand, indicating for the secret police to step aside, however to stop anyone from getting past them, allowing the press to take photographs of him.   One news reporter stepped forward, a microphone in his hand, beyond the secret police. "Sultan, what are-" He was cut off, as a secret police member tackled him, slamming him into the reception desk, as another came to back him up, slamming him to the ground, using zipties to tie his wrists behind his back. Mehmed heard this, looking behind him. He rolled his eyes as he saw the commotion. Mehmed began walking at a faster pace, as the reporter was picked up by the two secret police members and dragged away, to be handed to Zoranian authorities, where they could deal with him, stating 'he likely just wanted to get a closer word with Mehmed, let him go.'   The door was opened to the limousine, where Mehmed had the door opened for him by his secret service. He got inside, taking off his bork hat. He put on his seat belt. He looked oout of the window, seeing the flashes of cameras as photos were taken of the Sultan. Mehmed heard a secret service member tap on the roof of the car. The car took off, reaching the speed of about 50 miles per hour, closely tailed by the secret service.    Before he knew it, they arrived at the nearby airport. President Ani'-Wah's limo was waiting for him. Mehmed's limousine came to a stop and a secret service member rushed out of the car behind him, jogging up to the door to open it for him. Mehmed stepped out. He inhaled the fresh air, before walking over to the ageing President. Mehmed smiled as they conversed. Ani'-Wah' presented the Sultan with the gift. Mehmed took it, examining it carefully. He raised it to his eyes, looking from the handle's perspective, down to the end of the blade. He took his finger and pressed it against the tip of the blade. He smiled, as he handed the gift to Emine, who handled it carefully, walking up the stairs to Mehmed's jet, placing it carefully on Mehmed's table, where he sat. Emine then returned, to find the two men conversing. Mehmed smiled.   "You, sir, are a fine man and I am sure this won't be our last goodbye. And if it is, then I wish you the best of luck." Mehmed smiled, raising his right arm to rest on the shoulder of the old man. Mehmed smiled, without showing his teeth. He left his hand fall to his side, stepping a few steps back, still facing the President. He nodded goodbye, before he turned, as Emine waited for him at the top of the stairs. Mehmed, once he reached the top, allowed Emine to enter, before he glanced back, once more. He raised his hand and performed a small waving gesture, before he entered the plane, turning to the right, walking down the aisle.   The stairs were retracted and soon, the plane was in the air. Mehmed and Emine sat down, as Mehmed had several long conversations about numerous different topics. A few hours into flying, a man walked up to Mehmed. "My Sultan." He said, bowing. Mehmed stood up, looking at the man.   "Yes?" The Sultan asked.   "We have word from Zoran that Ani'-Wah' is dead."* He said, without much concern in his voice. Mehmed paused slightly, before nodding understandingly.   "I see." Mehmed replied. "Old age?" The Sultan asked. The man nodded. The man was a member of his secret service, one of the higher ranks. Mehmed sighed. "We return to Lanorth, I am sure I can attend his funeral in the coming days." Mehmed sat back down, as the man bowed and walked off. The plane touched down a few hours later in Lanorth. Mehmed returned to his palace. which seemed rather empty. Mehmed stood on the balcony, as the sun set over the city. He went to bed, thinking about the now dead President.   * I have permission from Zoran to announce the death of the President.   THE END.

AS Mehmed admired the hotel, he lowered his head to see the swarm of reporters in the building. Mehmed chuckled as he noticed this. He noticed his secret service stand behind him in their black uniforms. The Sultan fixed his Bork hat before he turned to his secret service. Mehmed had never liked the press. He found them annoying and moronic.
He watched the secret service of both countries hold them back as he walked with the President. Amongst the shouting of reporters asking questions, Mehmed kept his head down as he walked and Sabriye walked at a bit of a brisk pace, as to get away from either the reporters, or to get away from Mehmed.
As Mehmed walked with the President, he watched the lift doors open as Sabriye and Mehmed stepped inside. The President told them the code and that he would be unable to accompany them. Mehmed smiled. "Don't worry about not accompanying us. I am sure we should be fine, Mr President. Thank you for the code. Again, I am sure I will remember that.
He watched as a reporter managed to squeeze past some of the secret police. He watched as he rushed forward, only to be tackled by a member of the Lanorthan secret service. He watched the scene as the lift doors closed. He felt the lift begin to rise, floor after floor. Mehmed and Sabriye remained quiet. Mehmed grew more and more agitated by her silence. Eventually, he would snap. But not now.
Sabriye, when the lift stopped, simply walked out and entered the bathroom and like a normal person, shut the door behind her and locked it. Mehmed took a second to take it all in. 'It was beautiful', he thought. He found it amazing. He walked over to one of the baskets and took it over to the neatly made bed, where he carefully placed it down, to get a better look at it. He sat down on the bed. He took out and opened the packet of cigarettes and put one between his lips. He raised a lighter and lit it. He inhaled, letting smoke fill his lungs. He looked up, exhaling sharply. "They are some fine cigarettes." He murmured to himself. He held the cigarette between his lips as he continued to rumage through the basket.
He took out cigars and lay them neatly on the bed, before he found some Zoranian chocolate and wine. He put everything back in the basket, the cigarettes and cigars on top so he knew where to find them. He placed them back, appreciating the amount of effort Zoran had gone to as to make it perfect for him. Mehmed looked up, realising she was not out of the bathroom yet. It had been several minutes.
"Get out of there!" Mehmed said.
"I'm feeling unwell, leave me be." Said Sabriye.
"Course you are." Mehmed said. He then murmured something under his breath.
"Just leave me be, Mehmed!" She shouted from the bathroom.
"Oh, shut up." Said Mehmed, walking away. He walked over to the basket and took out the chocolate. He opened the chocolate and took a small piece of chcoolate out. He wrapped the packet up and placed it back in the basket. He put the small piece in his mouth and smiled to himself, as he loved the taste. Mehmed does his best to keep himself physically and mentally fit, so he attempts to avoid most unhealthy foods, apart from special occasions.
Mehmed walked over to one of the chairs and sat down on it, sighing. He looked at the window, admiring the view. He couldn't help but think how his Grand Vizier was doing back home, in Lanorth. When the Sultan was absent, the Grand Vizier would assume powee unril he returned. His Grand Vizier was born in Lanorth in 1364, although was asked to move to Kurabis in 1406 to become one of three religious teachers Mehmed had there. Although, Mehmed hated him. His name was Çandarlı Halil Pasha, unrelated to the diplomat. He frequently whipped Mehmed for disrespect, or if he got a question wrong. After every whipping, Mehmed said 'I will remember this.' He never forgot. In-fact, Mehmed was plotting his revenge.
He drifted his mind to Sabriye, who was still in the bathroom. Mehmed stood up and walked over. He knocked on the door. "What the bloody hell are you doing in there?" He demanded.
There was no reply.
He hammered on the door. He heard what sounded to be someone waking up. Mehmed frowned. "What the hell are you doung in there, answer me!" Mehmed said, shouting. He hammered on the door three times with his fist.
"Nothing... I..." She said, stuttering. "I'm not feeling well."
"Then get out and consult a doctor downstairs. I am sure you will find someone who can attend to you." Mehmed replied. He heard the door unlock and saw it open. He saw Sabriye walk past and exit the room. He heard the lift ping. He walked back over to the chair and sat down. After five minutes, his eyes started to feel heavy. He sat back and fell asleep.
Sabriye emerged from the lift downstairs. She wandered up to one of the hotel staff, feeling light-headed. "Hello." She said, her voice a bit flat. "May I see a doctor? I feel a bit..." she stood still, as she seemed to be thinking of the word. "Ill, a bit light-headed." She staggered on the spot, before attempting to stand upright. She approached the hotel desk, leaning up against it. A member of the Lanorthan secret service approached her.
"Are you feeling alright?" He asked.
"Yes, yes..." she murmured. "...Fine." She leaned to one side, almost trembling and fainted. The secret service member caught her and gently lay her on the floor. He pointed at the hotel staff member. "Get her a Goddamn doctor, now!" He bellowed. He placed his ear up to her mouth, checking for breathing. She was breathing. He took off her necklace, which was rather tight around her neck and loosened anything other clothing or things she was wearing that may be tight. He raised her legs above her heart level, around twelve inches up. He waited for the doctor to arrive.

April 30, 1420
Adsila Ani’-Wah’
 
All was quiet in Zoran, especially in the streets of Zoradia where the public funeral was to be held. I was still thinking of my father and all he told me in the limo only three days ago. The lawyer told me yesterday about the clause in the will where it gave me the choice to accept my father’s decision to make me the head of the Ani’-Wah’ family and I have thought about this heavily.
Centuries of family tradition ride on my decision, if I accept the tradition will be upheld and continue through me. However, if I reject it then the tradition will be jeopardized as none of my siblings are eligible to follow the tradition completely. Oh if only I had more time to decide.
I thought to myself as the limo came to a stop in front of the Rising Sun Mausoleum. People are only entombed there if ninety percent of the country’s voting population votes to have someone entombed there and the Divine Shaman has to deem the person to be morally and spiritually righteous. I was amazed by how quickly the people called for a vote on my father and how quickly the Divine Shaman delivered his judgement(historically this usually takes several days) as he delivered it within six hours of my father’s death. Of course people investigated due to how quickly this all took place but they couldn’t find any form of corruption that could have influenced the vote or the Divine Shaman. However, my father was to be buried there ceremonially, his body would not be in the casket that was to be entombed in the crypt. Our family planned to have a private funeral where we would bury his body according to his requests he made in his will.
As I got out of the limo wearing my black dress and black veil, I saw the crowds of people in the streets holding Damask roses of different colors waiting for their time that they would be allowed to pay their respects.
Wow...father really did impact a lot of people during his presidency. Despite the fact that the position has no influence, he did a lot to promote peace between our country and others all while making life better for Zoranians in the years he was voted into office. It’s just incredible how he could do so much with so little actual power.
I thought this to myself as I climbed up the steps towards the entrance of the mausoleum. When I reached the stop of the stairs, a bald and older looking man in a black suit walked up to me,
“Ah you must be Adsila, it is a pleasure to finally meet you!” He then shook my hand and I just stood there in confusion as I had never met this man in my life.
“Um, do I know you? I mean I know that I am the center of attention due to the media leaking that I still haven’t decided to become head of the Ani’-Wah’ family but I do not know if I have met you before.” I say in confusion,
“Ah my apologies, no you have not met me but I worked closely with your father before he went into politics and before he became the head of AW Encrypted. You know what that means yes?” my eyes widened when he said this as I indeed knew what this meant, he worked for the SIC,
“Would you prefer if we didn’t talk in the open?” I asked knowing his answer before he told me,
“Yes I would.” he says with a smile as we walk into the mausoleum together.
(OOC Note: if you wish to write in this topic you can, it would be an event like the olympics but not sports related and it would be canon. Your leaders can be at the funeral or a delegation from your country can be there, you can also be a news reporter there. The choice is yours!)

The crowd was cheering. Mehmed stood on a balcony, his father, Murad, beside him. And then, Mehmed's grandfather, mother, grandmother, all whom had died. Mehmed's step-mother, however, had not. She stood there too. The crowd was endless, stretching as far as the eye could see. Mehmed waved, as the crowd burst into an unending scream of joy. However it died down instantly, as a deafening crack rang out, which overwhelmed the crowd's cheering. Mehmed then felt like he had been punched in the gut. Mehmed fell over. As he fell, Mehmed thought he saw his family, doing nothing, just watching. However, as he hit the ground, something changed.
Mehmed sat up, his right hand shooting up and his left hand placed where he felt what he thought was a punch. He felt nothing. Mehmed was sweating and breathing heavily. Mehmed moved his left hand, placing it on what he saw sitting on. His bed. Mehmed let himself fall back, his head hitting the pillow, as he placed his hands on his forehead. He looked down at his feet, where beyond them, he saw the TV, which he obviously fell asleep watching. The news was being broadcasted. 
"Breaking news from Constantinople today as Sultan Mehmed is confirmed to have shot and killed Grand Vizier Çandarlı Halil Pasha in a brutal execution on Monday. Çandarlı was 55, having been born in 1365 and was apparently "murdered in cold blood", according to anonymous sources. Sultan Mehmed's court have confirmed the death, as an image of the man's corpse was shared, showing several gunshot wounds to the torso area and one under his chin. According to an autopsy, the man died due to the gunshot wound to the back of the head inflicted by the Sultan. Thousands are angry and are protesting against Mehmed in major cities across the country, as Halil Pasha was a loved and respected figure amongst the nobility and people."
Mehmed turned off the TV with the remote sitting on his beside table. Mehmed knew it was all rubbish, or so he thought. He also knew the public were unaware of what Halil Pasha planned to do. Mehmed got showered and dressed, and had his breakfast. He had bread, butter and jam, before getting dressed. He walked through the halls of the palace, towards a conference room. Mehmed was meeting his two courts today and apparently General Kayseri Agha was due to attend. Kayseri Agha was a man who flourished in his own wealth, being extremely rich, always rocking expensive designer aviator shades and a tan beret, with one of his many different military uniforms. He, no matter what uniform, almost in all cases, wore his tan beret.
Kayseri Agha was the head of Lanorth's Marine Corps, or Naval Infantry, which had around a few thousand members at this point. Kayseri was born on May 1, 1365 in what was back then called Novgorod, in the far north-west of the country. His original name is unknown even to this day. Kayseri Agha was the founding member of the naval corps, as it was not fully named or established before he ended up founding it and naming it officially in 1404. He is renowned for establishing protective groups and private military contractors to prevent crime and attacks in the country. His forces comprise male volunteers who can join up between the ages of 17 and 27. They are thoroughly trained upon volunteering and if they are unfit enough, are sent to the reserves to be trained even more thoroughly to get them into shape, or they have the option to leave the force. It is regarded as one of the most elite forces in the country.
Mehmed, once he was ready, dressed, showered etc, left the palace grounds, entering the same vehicle he used to get to and from the facility where he murdered Halil Pasha. The same motorcade in the same formation drove off, leaving the palace grounds and around 30 minutes later, arriving at a small estate by the outskirts of the city. The estate was nice, with a garden that Mehmed could stare at for hours. When he arrived, he saw his courts and the general, along with some of his soldiers, which Mehmed assumed were being used as guards. The courts and Kayseri greeted him warmly. Zaganos Pasha was also there.
Inside, Kayseri allowed four of his soldiers to guard the inside of the room. Kayseri poured a what would be in our world vodka, which was deliberately made stronger for the occasion, into some whiskey glasses. Kayseri set his one down as he was not thirsty. Kayseri had met Mehmed's father in a meeting before and Murad turned down the alcohol, saying it was 'irresponsible' of a Sultan to drink alcohol. However Mehmed poured himself two more glasses of the stuff after downing the first, before sitting down, confirming Kayseri's thought that Mehmed was irresponsible when it came to alcohol. And when Mehmed started smoking, Kayseri felt anger boil up inside of him, due to his hatred of people smoking. Kayseri decided it was now or never. Kayseri turned to Mehmed, before glancing up at the guards. They were ready for any possible event.
"I suggest we sit down?" Mehmed said, sitting down on one of the two couches in that specific room, which in-between, had a glass table where they had placed their glasses. Kayseri lifted his glass and sort-of sat there with it. He didn't like to drink alcohol, nor did he like to smoke. Kayseri was not a big smoking fan, as he knew smoking and drinking killed more people than it helped. Mehmed sat back, placing his left leg over his right knee. Kayseri felt awkward sitting next to Mehmed.
Mehmed lit a cigarette. His courts, who were sitting on two different couches which were side-by-side in-front of the table. Zaganos spoke up. "My Sultan." Mehmed nodded. "We are here to discuss the death of Halil Pasha." Mehmed shook his head, sighing in boredom.
"Can't we just bypass this topic?" Mehmed asked. As Zaganos went to nod his head, Kayseri stepped in.
"No." Kayseri said. Mehmed looked at him.
"Excuse me?" Mehmed asked, dumbfounded.
"No, we cannot bypass the topic." Kayseri said, putting emphasis on the word 'bypass'. Mehmed was astonished. No-one had countered him like that since his father was alive.
"Why not?" Mehmed asked.
"It was a major event that shook the country to its core. Halil Pasha was a major player in our country's politics, Sultan. We cannot just bypass such a topic, making him irrelevant. This is not how it works, Sultan." Kayseri exclaimed. Mehmed shook his head slightly. He blinked.
"Okay..." Mehmed said, as he was horrible at debating and did not have a counter argument other than 'I don't want to talk about it'.
"Good." Said Kayseri. He turned to Zaganos. "Go on."
As Zaganos began to speak, Mehmed leaned forward, grabbing the bottle of alcohol and the glass. He poured himself a full glass, before knocking back his head, downing it. He poured himself another. Kayseri watched as Mehmed did this again, and again. Zaganos ignored it, however Kayseri was disgusted. Zaganos, being the new Grand Vizier, was being blatantly ignored by Mehmed.
"Sultan." Said Zaganos. Mehmed looked at him, placing down the glass and bottle, which had three-quarters less in it. Mehmed looked at Zaganos.
"Hm?" Mehmed asked.
With this, Kayseri stood up. He walked to one of the guards. Kayseri leaned in and whispered quietly; "Tell them to do it." The guard nodded, saluted, then jogged out. Kayseri walked back to the couch and sat down on it, a bit further away from Mehmed. The guard had walked outside and spoken to one of the officers stationed in the garden. The guard simply said 'Kayseri wants it done, lets get it done', before walking back inside and standing back where he was.
The officer radioed in to a nearby military barracks, where 600 marines were stationed. He radioed in to the Colonel there and simply said;
"Operation: Knuckledusters, get it done, orders from Agha." The officer, a Lieutenant, radioed in.
The Colonel chuckled. "Copy." He said, before he switched his radio off. He stood up from his chair, turning to the officers behind him. "Gather the men, we are moving!" He yelled, excitement visible in his voice. He opened the door, leading to the parade grounds. He shouted at the top of his lungs; "Soldiers! Knuckleduster is a go, get your guns, get your kit, and STS on the parade grounds!" The gate to the barracks was opened as tanks arriving from the vehicle compound, as well as troop carriers, armoured trucks etc, parked, ready to transport.
Once they were all mobilised, they all got into their transport vehicles and moved out, to strategic locations across the city to wipe out all possible resistance to this upcoming coup. Within about fifteen minutes, the city was in the process of being secured, as Kayseri's soldiers began nearing their objectives.
The Lieutenant back at the estate made a gesture with his hands, as the four guards stationed outside entered the estate and walked in. Kayseri glanced back, as Mehmed and Zaganos were in an argument, shouting at each-other. Kayseri stood up and walked towards the guards, who were now all huddled up. Kayseri whispered to the Lieutenant; "Did you radio in?" He asked. The Lieutenant nodded. 
"Yes, Sir."
"Good." Kayseri replied. "Well, you know what we do now?" Kayseri asked. The eight guards all nodded. "Fabulous." Kayseri replied. Kayseri turned on the spot. The guards stood, shoulder-to-shoulder in an impeccably straight line, with their assault rifles. Kayseri unholstered his pistol, which was essentially a desert eagle. Kayseri began counting down from three. "Three... two... one." Kayseri raised his desert eagle. The guards simultaneously raised their assault rifles, which were basically AUG-A3s, but modernised and improved.
Mehmed's court, who were facing the firing squad, essentially, stared in shock. Mehmed slowly turned his head around to see this horrifying sight. Kayseri spoke up. "Mehmed bin Murad Han, son of Murad bin Mehemmed Han, you are under arrest for your crimes, which are murder, corruption and your utter incompetence to lead a country, with your smoking and drinking problems. Your court are in turn found guilty of these crimes until proven innocent. You can either choose to come with us calmly, or in a bodybag. I don't mind which."
Mehmed's eyes widened. Genuine fear was smothered all over his face. His court had the same reaction. Members in his court raised their hands, followed by Zaganos. When Zaganos raised his hands, the whole court did. Mehmed slowly raised his own. "Mehmed bin Murad Han, turn around, facing away from us. You shall slowly walk towards us, remaining facing away from us." One of the guards at the end slung his assault rifle and took out zipties. Mehmed complied. The guard walked over and grabbed Mehmed's right hand, slamming it down behind his back, just above his waist. He grabbed his left now and did the same. He tied the zipties firmly around Mehmed's wrists and tossed him backwards to Kayseri, who moved out of the way, sending Mehmed into the wall behind him.
This process was conducted with every member of his court, who all complied but one. One, when he was about to be ziptied, turned around and attempted to strike the guard's neck. The guard blocked the punch and decked him, before putting the zipties around his wrists, and tightly. Once they were finished, they were all walked out at gunpoint. Mehmed's court were placed in the back of a transit van, however Mehmed was placed in the back of the car he arrived in, whilst a soldier drove it. Kayseri got into an armoured military vehicle and tailed the transit van.
The car engine started and drove off, with the transit van and Kayseri's vehicle tailing closely behind. Mehmed rested his head back against the headrest behind him, panicking. He wriggled slightly, as the zipties began to dig into his skin. He inhaled through his nose, and out through his mouth, trying on focus on something other than the fear and pain he was experiencing. He looked out of the window, as he saw firing squads execute resistors to the coup, lined up against the side of houses. He was horrified, as he saw resistors pinned down by soldiers. He thought it was a dream, but then remembered the pain cutting into his wrists.
This sight was seen across the city, as numerous people resisting the coup were shot or pinned down. Blood stained the streets, as journalists were also apprehended, preventing any news correspondence of the event. Mehmed knew what Kayseri was going to become. A Dictator; more ruthless than any leader in the history of the country. Mehmed guessed he may not be around to see it, however. With this thought, he panicked further, squirming in his seat.
Mehmed was confused, when he saw the gates to the palace open up, as the convoy entered through and parked in-front of the doors. As Mehmed was dragged out from the car, gunfire could be heard it seemed in every distance. Mehmed closed his eyes, thinking what lay ahead of him and what his people were facing. He was dropped at the entrance to the palace, as a soldier stepped over him, stamping his boot into his face, knocking him unconscious.
For the next few minutes, Mehmed fell in and out of consciousness as he witnessed brief glimpses of himself being dragged through the palace. This continued, as he was dragged into a lift (or elevator, where it went to the ground floor; the basement. When the doors opened up, Mehmed became conscious, feeling cold air engulf him, as the basement had little heating in it. He dazed back unconscious. He awoke, jolting up as he was tossed onto the ground, in a small room, made entirely of stone, with the walls about five metres long and the roof about the same height. Kayseri walked over Mehmed, standing in-front of him. Mehmed looked up at Kayseri, as Kayseri's hand gently tapped his holster, where the handgun, which was identical to a desert eagle, was holstered.
A soldier walked in with a camera, on a tripod. He began filming it, as the soldiers had seized the near news station, allowing it to be broadcasted to the nation.
Kayseri looked up at the camera and muttered a few words in Lanorthan.
"I'm immortal."
Kayseri unholstered his pistol, aiming it at Mehmed's head. "No... no..." Mehmed pleaded. "I'm begging you, please-" He was cut off by a deafening crack. The pistol slider slammed back, before sliding forward, allowing the round casing to fly out. The recoil of the pistol forced Kayseri's hand back a bit, however he controlled it, lowering his pistol back to Mehmed's head. A bullet slammed directly into Mehmed's head. His blood squirted out from the gaping wound, as Kayseri fired one last round, to be sure. Mehmed was dead, with two rounds buried somewhere in his head.
Mehmed's court, aside from Zaganos, were forced to dig their own mass graves in the garden of the palace. Once it was big enough, three guards lined them up, facing the grave. They fired into their backs, dumping their magazines into them, as they all tumbled into the grave. The grave was filled up once more, as Zaganos was handed over to Kayseri. Zaganos, however, fought back. As Zaganos was tossed to the floor in the same room Mehmed was executed, with his corpse still laying there, he booted Kayseri's shin, as he stood up. Zaganos was grabbed by the arms by two guards, as he tried to run at Kayseri. Kayseri was unscathed, but it stung.
Kayseri swore at him, as he shot him in the right kidney area. The guards let go as Zaganos fell to the ground, clutching his wound. Zaganos looked up, hissing at the pain. "Do it, you animal. Do it, if you're brave enough! You won't!" Kayseri aimed at Zaganos' head. "I bet you don't have the b-" He was cut off by another deafening crack. The bullet rammed through his eye, the bullet instantly killing him. His corpse fell back, his head lying against Mehmed's leg. The two were doused in petrol and set alight. They burned in the stone room until the fire put itself out, where what remained of them were dumped in an unknown location.
Lanorth's new path had to be decided, where would it go, with what Government and with what policies. However, it was certain Lanorth would not remain a monarchy. Mehmed's changes were immediately declared "null" and were "undone", making the country what it used to be. Mehmed's policies of theocracy were abolished and the people were allowed to have their old names back. The city was cleaned of all blood and the people killed were disposed of too.

Mehmed had, by now, returned from his state visit in Zoran. He had slept, it was now about six in the morning. He woke up. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He sat on the edge of it. He stood up, stretching his arms out slightly. He had a shower a few minutes later, the temperature colder than normal, to better wake himself up. Once done, he dried himself, using a towel hung up for him. Once dried, he put on different clothing. He put on crimson and black robes, with black trousers and boots. He walked to the mirror, where he opened a drawer. He took out an unwrapped turban that he wore, which was a sort of off-white colour. He wrapped it around his head, allowing the loose part to come around from behind his head, hanging down over his right shoulder. The end of it was decorated with gold.
Mehmed nodded to himself. He turned to the double-doors leading to his bedroom. He opened them, where outside, were three guards. One of the guards was carrying a basket, inside was tiger bread, cut into individual slices with butter. He took a piece, raising it to his mouth. Mehmed nodded in a thanking manner, before Mehmed turned. He saw Zaganos Pasha walking towards him. Mehmed approached him too.
"Zaganos Pasha, how lovely it is to see you." Mehmed said, smiling. Zaganos stopped, bowing to the Sultan. Mehmed used his free hand to gesture Zaganos to raise.
"Hello, my Sultan. How was your trip?" Zaganos asked.
Mehmed's eyes drifted up briefly, before he shook his head.
"Good, thank you." Said Mehmed. Zaganos nodded. "So what is this you told me about Halil Pasha?"
"I think you know the story, Sultan. He is still in solitary confinement." Said Zaganos. Mehmed nodded.
"Well, I want to visit him today." Mehmed said. Zaganos closed his eyes briefly. He then nodded, exhaling sharply through his nose. "Something wrong, Pasha?" Mehmed asked. Zaganos shook his head.
"No, it's just-" Zaganos said, but Mehmed interrupted him.
"Then lets go." Mehmed said. He turned on the spot and began to walk. He chuckled, as he ate his chunk of bread. Zaganos glanced at the bread, feeling slightly hungry, however glanced away, knowing he would feel hungrier if he watched the Sultan eat.
Mehmed and Zaganos walked swiftly through the corridors of the palace, before turning, entering the courtyard of the palace, where pillars supported a small rooftop which protected the people under it from any possible rain. Zaganos opened his mouth to speak. "Sultan, he will try to evade your questions, I am sure, he will likely try and turn the situation on you." He said, attempting to warn Mehmed. Mehmed laughed.
"Yes. He will try." Mehmed said. They left the courtyard, taking another corridor, before finally leaving the main palace. They walked through the parade grounds, where several guards stood. Mehmed noticed a few scattered tourists outside the main fence and gate. Mehmed dismissed them, looking away. He looked to his vehicle, basically a presidential armoured limousine. It had bulletproof tyres, 6m reinforced windows, an air compression system to resist a gas attack, a TV used for video conferences and entertainment, 'Camera' windows, an emergency exit from the rear of the car, an electric engine with 40-48hp, an advanced communication system, night vision cameras facing all sides of the vehicle, armour to resists blasts and sniper fire from any angle, extra-large doors so robes and/or trousers do not get dirty when exiting the car, 4,4 litre, 8 cylinder, 598hp, auto tightening seat-belts and more.
Mehmed had the door opened for him, as he got into it. Zaganos got in next to him from the other door in the back. Mehmed grabbed his seat-belt, pulling it over and fastening it. Zaganos did the same. Police motorcycles arrived beside and in-front of the vehicle, with a dummy one coming up behind. Three police motorcycles drove beside the right and left of the car, with three forming a wedge formation in-front of it, with the dummy car having three motorcycles behind it forming an inverted wedge, with three once again, on the right and left side of the vehicle. The motorcade took off, as the doors to the palace opened and closed, once the motorcade had left.
The streets were completely bare. No cars at all. This is what power looks like. Early morning traffic was non-existent, as the motorcade moved without effort through the roads, ignoring red lights. They drove without effort to the location of Halil Pasha. Mehmed turned on the TV, as he watched the morning news. It was a slow news day, but reports mostly focused on the death of Ani'-Wah', which by now had been reported worldwide. Zaganos looked at the TV. "Do you plan to attend his funeral?" Zaganos asked.
"Maybe, if they hold a private one. If I were to attend his public funeral, the whole place would be flooded with my secret service friends. I don't want that." Mehmed said.
"Fair enough." Zaganos replied.
They continued watching the television, before arriving about fifteen to twenty minutes later. Mehmed had the door opened for him, as it was too heavy to open from the inside due to the armour. Mehmed stretched his arms slightly, as Zaganos walked to Mehmed. Together, with two of Secret Service behind them, they walked into the facility. Mehmed was taken to an interrogation room, where they later were introduced to the new Halil Pasha. He was now significantly more frail and hunched over, with a few of his teeth missing. He was supported by two of Mehmed's secret service, as he used them to stand. He was seated and handcuffed to the chair, which was made of metal and drilled into the floor. Halil Pasha smelled horrible. He had not showered in days and spent days enclosed in a solitary confinement room, with sweat and whatnot. He was dressed in rags, stained with old blood of his. His beard was overgrown and his hair messy. Mehmed sat down in-front of him at a table.
"What made you think that was a good idea?" Mehmed asked, leaning in, his arms folded. Halil shook his head, however this caused him to be light headed. He fell back almost.
"I don't... know..." He spat out slowly, coming out as more of a flat mumble. Mehmed leaned in further, almost standing up, as he sat on the edge of his seat. Mehmed spoke in a deep, but serious tone, which Zaganos thought was the deepest he had heard Mehmed speak in several weeks;
"Why did you do it, I will not ask you again." Halil Pasha eyes began to roll back, before he blinked, bringing himself almost back to consciousness. Something wasn't wrong with him. Mehmed knew it. So, he leaned back in his chair, his arms remaining folded. Mehmed stood up. He turned to one of the guards. "He's useless." Mehmed walked to the said guard. Mehmed leaned in and whispered something to him. The guard nodded. The guard left the room. Mehmed turned to Zaganos and smiled. "Come on, we're leaving." Mehmed said. The two men walked out of the room and into the car park, followed by two more guards, who were dragging Halil Pasha. Zaganos walked towards the motorcade, however Mehmed chuckled at this.
"Sultan, are we not going-" Zaganos was cut off.
"No, we are not going to the motorcade. We are going to that building." Mehmed pointed to a rather small building behind a barbed-wire, seven-foot-tall fence, which was also electric. Zaganos nodded.
"Okay..." He said, confused. Mehmed noticed this tone.
"Don't worry or whatever the Hell you are doing, Pasha. We are going to see a show." This made Zaganos even more confused.
"What?" Zaganos asked. Mehmed dismissed him.
"You'll see." Mehmed replied, as they walked. An operator within the facility turned off the electric fence, as the gate leading into the area was opened for them. Once the group were at a safe distance, it was turned back on and the gate locked shut. The party walked towards the compound, if it was one, where the heavy, metal door was opened from the inside by a guard. Inside, was a chair sitting at the far end of the room, separated by bulletproof glass. Zaganos seemed even more confused as he noticed the chair was made of metal, painted a dark colour and had straps to fix an individuals arms, legs, head and wrists to the said chair. It was also attached to the concrete floor. Zaganos knew what the room was when he noticed the sandbags forming a half-circle around the chair, making only the front visible.
Mehmed and Zaganos watched as Halil Pasha was dragged around the side of the bulletproof glass and down a corridor, where they once again opened a big metal door. The pair watched as Halil Pasha was almost unconscious as he had his arms, ankles, wrists and head strapped in, so he was essentially unable to resist or move anything. He wasn't gifted a blindfold either. A guard left the room and returned with a bucket of ice cold water. The bucket was tossed over Halil Pasha, who jolted awake. His breathing became rapid, especially as he realised he couldn't breathe. He was unable to see through the glass was actually a one-way mirror. Zaganos began panicking.
"Wait..." He said, trying to speak. It was almost unintelligible. "What are you..." Mehmed, at this stage, turned to Zaganos.
"I wanted to do the honours, you see." Mehmed walked down the same corridor that led to the room. As he walked, the guards walked out, leaving Halil Pasha momentarily alone in the room. One guard approached Mehmed and unholstered his pistol, identical to a Heckler & Koch P30L today. The guard asked whether Mehmed wanted a suppressor or not, as he had one. Mehmed wanted one, as he loved the sound of suppressed rounds being fired.
Mehmed walked into the room, as the door was closed behind him. Halil Pasha looked at Mehmed, as fear seemed to be engraved into Halil Pasha's face. "Hello, teacher." Mehmed said. Halil Pasha didn't respond. His eyes followed Mehmed's pistol closely, following it everywhere. "I suppose you know what is about to happen, if I am indeed correct?" Halil Pasha again, didn't respond. "If you have anything to say, maybe your last words, perhaps, please do speak." Mehmed said. Halil Pasha spoke, keeping his eyes on the pistol.
"I am loyal to you, Sultan, but killing me will spark outrage with my council and my supporters... I urge you to reconsider." Halil Pasha said, raising his head slightly,.
"No." Mehmed replied. "My mind is set. So, if you have anything philosophical to say as your last words, I again, implore you to speak." Halil Pasha shivered.
"This country is not meant for your absolute monarchy type of ideology, nor your religion. But we will believe in it and persist to believe in it, even when it seems like there is nothing to believe for. But I know that if you execute me now, your court will rebel against you."
Across the one-way mirror, Zaganos heard this and agreed with this. Zaganos didn't want Halil Pasha executed really, he thought he did, however. Now it came to the moment, Zaganos was beginning to sympathise with him. Zaganos wanted to intervene but knew it would not end well for him. So, he was watching helplessly, as Mehmed yanked back the slider. Mehmed stood about a metre in-front of Halil Pasha. "Speak now, old man, its your last chance." Halil Pasha responded calling Mehmed the term used for a female dog. Mehmed responded with pointing the muzzle of the suppressor at his gut and applying a gentle pressure to the trigger.
Halil Pasha cried out. Zaganos closed his eyes, turning away. Mehmed fired another, making Halil Pasha want to keel over. It pained him even more he could not move. Mehmed fired one last round. It was remarkable Halil Pasha survived these three rounds. Mehmed stepped back now. He looked at the man from this distance. He walked over and ripped of his head strap, pushing his chin far back against the chair. He placed the muzzle of the suppressor against his chin, pointing up to his brain. He fired once. The bullet immediately ripped through his chin, rushing up through his head. It slammed through his skull and got stuck in it, however sprayed fragments into his brain, which was enough to kill him.
Zaganos thought Mehmed seemed to be mad with power, as he would never wish such a death on someone who grew up with him, taught him and was responsible for the man Mehmed once was.
Mehmed stepped back. He took out the ammo clip, letting it fall to the ground. He pointed the gun at his chest and fired off the remaining round in the barrel. He took off the suppressor and walked out, handing the gun to the guard waiting outside. Mehmed then walked off. He seemed to have a glow in his eyes suggested Zaganos may be right. Zaganos was sure Mehmed would never kill someone off in such cold blood, especially someone so influential in Mehmed's life.
"Lets go." Mehmed said.
The motorcade returned to Constantinople and Zaganos split off from Mehmed, calling an emergency meeting without Mehmed's knowledge. Zaganos informed both courts about the death of Halil Pasha and how Mehmed killed him. It sparked outrage and soon enough, it leaked to the public. They were also outraged. Mehmed had made friends, but the majority of them, he had just lost. Halil Pasha, despite his ideology and crimes, didn't deserve what he got, they all thought. Exile would be more sufficient. But no. And that has split the country, with the majority of it against Mehmed.

This short nap turned into a good eleven hour sleep. Mehmed had been awake for about forty-five-minutes now. He got out of the shower thirty minutes ago and by now, was dressed in his everyday black robes, with his black Bork hat decorated with the gold. Mehmed had been walking around the rooms he could look around in, as the sun rose on the city. Mehmed, once finished, returned to his chair, where he preferred it the most. It was around nine in the morning now. Today was the day he was due to return home to Lanorth.   Mehmed was deep in thought. Mostly about the previous few days - what had happened, what he had been doing, etc. He thought about Sabriye, whom, by this time, had been buried back in Lanorth. He thought about Halil Pasha, what he would do with him. And about Zaganos Pasha - how he may react to his plans. Mehmed then shook his head briefly, knowing that he should cross that bridge when he got to it.   Mehmed glanced behind him as he heard footsteps behind him, clicking against the floor. Mehmed saw his servant, Emine. Mehmed stood up, facing her. "Emine, good morning." Said Mehmed, smiling.   "Morning,  Sultan." She replied, smiling back. "Are you ready for your breakfast, or would you like to wait a while longer?" She asked.   "It depends what time we are scheduled to leave the country." Mehmed replied. Emine smiled briefly. "I believe we leave at three in the afternoon, so we would arrive back home around nine this evening." Mehmed nodded. "In which case, yes, I'll have my breakfast now, thank you." Mehmed replied.   "I'll let the cooks know." Emine said. She bowed and Mehmed replied by nodding his head.   Before you go, Emine." Said Mehmed. Emine turned, inclining her head slightly. "Yes?" She asked.   "Give your honest opinion on my attire, Emine." Mehmed said. Emine's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. Mehmed took notice of this. "I'm serious, you know." He insisted.   "I don't doubt-" Emine said, however she was interrupted by Mehmed, who performed a hand gesture, indicating he wanted her to spit it out. "I would prefer something a bit more modern than robes. I would like it if there wasn't policies governing on how people may dress in Lanorth and I am sure the whole populace would." She said. Mehmed shrugged.   "Maybe." He said. "Thank you, Emine." She nodded and turned back around, walking off. Mehmed thought about what she had said. 'Maybe she's right.' He thought. 'Maybe Lanorth does need to advance into the future concerning fashion.' He then dwelled into this thought. 'We allowed our soldiers to do it. Why should the people be different?' He then thought about his father, the laws he had implemented concerning fashion, and how Mehmed had not even considered to lift this law. Mehmed sighed.   Mehmed, when the man came to take his order, ordered a simple breakfast, a fried egg in a sandwich. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry and didn't want anything fancy, nor did he want to rush the cooks. He ate it quite quickly.   Mehmed sighed, standing up, before pushing his chair in. He lifted his plate, taking it over to Emine, who was waiting for him. Mehmed smiled. "Thank you." As she walked away, Mehmed turned on the spot, facing the window he had spent the majority of the time. He walked over to the basket, as Emine returned. Mehmed took the cigarettes from within the basket and took one out, before pocketing the rest. Mehmed placed it between his lips, holding it firmly, before lighting it. Mehmed inhaled, allowing the smoke to once again, fill his lungs. Mehmed took his thumb and index finger, removing the cigarette from his lips, exhaling the smoke sharply.   Mehmed admired the view out of the window, once more. He glanced down at his sword. He sighed, as he thought of all the people the blade had murdered, in vain or in cold blood. He thought of the man his father was, a tough man on the inside with a frail outside. He sighed, thinking once more. Mehmed placed his free hand on the handle of the sword and suddenly, it came to him. Mehmed knew, at that moment, he was everything his father wanted him to be. Mehmed smiled to himself, breathing out as he did. He raised the cigarette up to his mouth, once again. He stood there, admiring the view, for a good while.   Mehmed was interrupted by the voice of Emine. "Excuse me, Sultan..." Said Emine. Mehmed shook his head slightly, before he turned to face Emine. Mehmed raised his head slightly. Emine bowed her head, once again. Mehmed's gaze remained on Emine.   "Yes, Emine, what is it." Said Mehmed, sounding rather irritated.   "Your convoy has arrived outside, Sultan." Emine said. "The departure has been rearranged, I attempted to tell you before, however you seemed to be deep in thought." Mehmed chuckled.   "How long has it been?" Mehmed asked.   "About an hour." Emine said. Mehmed thought to himself;   'I really need to stop doing that sort of thing.'   Mehmed nodded. "Okay." He said. "Are all of my belongings packed?" He asked. Emine nodded.   "Yes." She said reassuringly.   "Very good. Lets go." He said. Emine nodded. Mehmed stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it into the rubbish bin. He straightened his robes out slightly, brushing them down, before he used his right hand to grip the handle of the sword, before walking out of the floor. He approached the lift, pressing the button to take him to the bottom floor. Emine stood beside him, her hands resting behind her back. Mehmed was significantly shorter than Mehmed, standing at 5'5, however Mehmed was 6'0. Mehmed adjusted his bork hat swiftly, straightening it out, before the lift came to a stop. Mehmed's hand lowered to his side, as the lift door opened. Mehmed was greeted by rows of photographers. Mehmed raised his free hand, indicating for the secret police to step aside, however to stop anyone from getting past them, allowing the press to take photographs of him.   One news reporter stepped forward, a microphone in his hand, beyond the secret police. "Sultan, what are-" He was cut off, as a secret police member tackled him, slamming him into the reception desk, as another came to back him up, slamming him to the ground, using zipties to tie his wrists behind his back. Mehmed heard this, looking behind him. He rolled his eyes as he saw the commotion. Mehmed began walking at a faster pace, as the reporter was picked up by the two secret police members and dragged away, to be handed to Zoranian authorities, where they could deal with him, stating 'he likely just wanted to get a closer word with Mehmed, let him go.'   The door was opened to the limousine, where Mehmed had the door opened for him by his secret service. He got inside, taking off his bork hat. He put on his seat belt. He looked oout of the window, seeing the flashes of cameras as photos were taken of the Sultan. Mehmed heard a secret service member tap on the roof of the car. The car took off, reaching the speed of about 50 miles per hour, closely tailed by the secret service.    Before he knew it, they arrived at the nearby airport. President Ani'-Wah's limo was waiting for him. Mehmed's limousine came to a stop and a secret service member rushed out of the car behind him, jogging up to the door to open it for him. Mehmed stepped out. He inhaled the fresh air, before walking over to the ageing President. Mehmed smiled as they conversed. Ani'-Wah' presented the Sultan with the gift. Mehmed took it, examining it carefully. He raised it to his eyes, looking from the handle's perspective, down to the end of the blade. He took his finger and pressed it against the tip of the blade. He smiled, as he handed the gift to Emine, who handled it carefully, walking up the stairs to Mehmed's jet, placing it carefully on Mehmed's table, where he sat. Emine then returned, to find the two men conversing. Mehmed smiled.   "You, sir, are a fine man and I am sure this won't be our last goodbye. And if it is, then I wish you the best of luck." Mehmed smiled, raising his right arm to rest on the shoulder of the old man. Mehmed smiled, without showing his teeth. He left his hand fall to his side, stepping a few steps back, still facing the President. He nodded goodbye, before he turned, as Emine waited for him at the top of the stairs. Mehmed, once he reached the top, allowed Emine to enter, before he glanced back, once more. He raised his hand and performed a small waving gesture, before he entered the plane, turning to the right, walking down the aisle.   The stairs were retracted and soon, the plane was in the air. Mehmed and Emine sat down, as Mehmed had several long conversations about numerous different topics. A few hours into flying, a man walked up to Mehmed. "My Sultan." He said, bowing. Mehmed stood up, looking at the man.   "Yes?" The Sultan asked.   "We have word from Zoran that Ani'-Wah' is dead."* He said, without much concern in his voice. Mehmed paused slightly, before nodding understandingly.   "I see." Mehmed replied. "Old age?" The Sultan asked. The man nodded. The man was a member of his secret service, one of the higher ranks. Mehmed sighed. "We return to Lanorth, I am sure I can attend his funeral in the coming days." Mehmed sat back down, as the man bowed and walked off. The plane touched down a few hours later in Lanorth. Mehmed returned to his palace. which seemed rather empty. Mehmed stood on the balcony, as the sun set over the city. He went to bed, thinking about the now dead President.   * I have permission from Zoran to announce the death of the President.   THE END.

PART 8: CONFINEMENT
Zaganos Pasha walked hastily down the one of the hundreds of corridors in 'The Great Palace of Constantinople'. Labelled as the official residence of Sultan Mehmed, Zaganos Pasha and Çandarlı Halil Pasha had arranged a meeting between them and Mehmed's court to decide what they were going to do. Zaganos Pasha was tailed by  four of Lanorth's elite soldiers - the Janissaries. Known as Lanorth's elite shock troops, or sometimes special forces, they were the most well-organised, best trained and most professional fighting force in all of the country. They were not dressed in their ceremonial, antiquated crimson robes, instead dressed in urban combat uniforms. So, grey cargo trousers, tan cargo trousers or jeans, with either black shirts or black t-shirts, with an olive green or tan combat vest. They had a holster wrapped around their dominant legs, with knee pads, tactical combat belts, etc. They wore either a tan/grey/black baseball cap, or a beret, or no hat at all.
They walked hastily, with the black robes of Zaganos flapping due to the haste of his pace, with the Janissaries behind him in their combat uniforms, with their usual an off-white turban on their head. Zaganos had a black turban, however it was not important. They turned left, then right, bursting into the throne room. The double doors were opened for them. Zaganos gripped the handle of his sword, his arms moving now, with more enthusiasm, almost like a prolonged swing to seem more intimidating.
Zaganos approached Halil. Halil walked slowly up, gripping both what would be the lapels on his black, long coat, made of a lighter fur, with the fur being more noticeable on the lapel, as they were a dark black and were quite fuzzy. Halil stopped in-front of Zaganos, who stood up to the man with the once black beard, however due to his age, was turning to a boring grey, with tints of black still showing through. The man's greying hair was hidden beneath a tightly wrapped turban, matching the colour of his coat.
Zaganos was a bit taller than Halil. Zaganos was about six foot, however Halil was about five foot eight. Not much, however Zaganos was confident that he was the dominant figure.
"Zaganos Pasha." Said Halil.
"You dog." Said Zaganos. Zaganos gestured with his left hand to the Janissaries behind him, who shut the double doors of the throne room. Two of the four stepped forward, as the other two stood walked forward, standing in a wedge formation behind Zaganos. Halil stepped back. Halil put his hand in his pocket and the two Janissaries jolted upright. They pointed their assault rifles, which were the best in the country and similar to the HK416 in the real world, right at the head of Halil Pasha. The Janissaries were loyal to Zaganos Pasha and Sultan Mehmed and knew that Halil Pasha would be executed for his actions - sooner or later.
Halil Pasha stared at the muzzles and seemed scared. He took out his hand, spreading out his hands to show he was not holding anything. Halil Pasha looked down and Zaganos continued looking furious. He turned to one of the Janissaries. Halil Pasha turned around and Zaganos nodded. The Janissary walked forward, whipping off handcuffs from his tactical combat belt. He grabbed Halil Pasha and slapped the handcuffs on his wrists.
"On behalf of Sultan Mehmed, you, Çandarlı Halil Pasha, are under arrest until further notice." With these words, Halil Pasha whipped around, however the Janissary clenched his fist and hit him violently across the jaw. A distinctive crack was heard, which was significantly loud, sending Halil Pasha to the floor. Halil Pasha's jaw was now dislocated and out of place, nearly hanging off sideways. The Janissary stared at the old man on the floor, who was now holding his jaw in pain.
"Now I can do much worse, Pasha." Said the Janissary. "Or you can come with us, peacefully and without hesitation." The Grand Vizier was unable to talk, however seemed to nod. He was yanked off of the floor by the two Janissaries, before he was dragged away, Zaganos tailing the two men closely. The double doors were opened for them and Zaganos followed the first two and Halil out, before the other two followed on behind.
They walked to the exit of the palace, where outside, two black, armoured cars were outside, alongside four police bikes and officers to drive them. Halil Pasha was shoved into the back car and Zaganos got into the front one. The engines of the cars started and the sirens of the bikes were activated. The palace gates were opened and the convoy left the area. The streets were completely empty. There was not one car to be seen. This was what order and obedience looked like. The people of Constantinople, or this specific area of the city, stayed home or inside of shops, restaurants, whichever, so the convoy could get through without hassle.
The car drove through the streets at about 60mph. It arrived, about 20 minutes later, at a small army base. Inside, was a cell guarded by military police, where he would be placed in solitary confinement, isolated from the world, as he was seen as 'too unfit and too unstable to have contact with others'. He was ousted from his position upon arrival, with the country currently having no Grand Vizier until Mehmed could return and appoint one. So, until that time, a provisional court was formed, with Zaganos Pasha at the head, effectively becoming Grand Vizier until the return of the Sultan.
The military police dragged the man out of the car and into the building, where he was thrown into a small and slightly tight black room with a dim light providing the only light source for the whole time. 24/7, 365 days a year, it remained on. The man received treatment from on-site doctors and medics. However, all they did was snap his jaw back into place, gave him an ice pack and a tub of plain yogurt to ease the pain, somewhat, if it even could, or to provide something he did not have to chew.
Zaganos Pasha contacted Mehmed and alerted him of the recent developments. Mehmed was pleased that he had be contained and assured Zaganos he would be back soon. Mehmed, however was still in Zoran, on his own, apart from his servant, in a fancy hotel. Zaganos did hope he would be back soon, however, as he wanted this mess sorted out. And Zaganos knew Mehmed had the ability to do so.
However, back in solitary confinement, Halil Pasha knew his life was coming to an end. He had taken a gamble and it had not payed off. He wanted to do something to entertain himself. But there was no books, no television, no electronics, no nothing. Just a toilet, sink and a wooden bed with a blanket and thin pillow. Halil lay down on the wooden, uncomfortable bed, which gave him a splinter and he closed his eyes, attempting to get some sleep.

PART 8: CONFINEMENT
Zaganos Pasha walked hastily down the one of the hundreds of corridors in 'The Great Palace of Constantinople'. Labelled as the official residence of Sultan Mehmed, Zaganos Pasha and Çandarlı Halil Pasha had arranged a meeting between them and Mehmed's court to decide what they were going to do. Zaganos Pasha was tailed by  four of Lanorth's elite soldiers - the Janissaries. Known as Lanorth's elite shock troops, or sometimes special forces, they were the most well-organised, best trained and most professional fighting force in all of the country. They were not dressed in their ceremonial, antiquated crimson robes, instead dressed in urban combat uniforms. So, grey cargo trousers, tan cargo trousers or jeans, with either black shirts or black t-shirts, with an olive green or tan combat vest. They had a holster wrapped around their dominant legs, with knee pads, tactical combat belts, etc. They wore either a tan/grey/black baseball cap, or a beret, or no hat at all.
They walked hastily, with the black robes of Zaganos flapping due to the haste of his pace, with the Janissaries behind him in their combat uniforms, with their usual an off-white turban on their head. Zaganos had a black turban, however it was not important. They turned left, then right, bursting into the throne room. The double doors were opened for them. Zaganos gripped the handle of his sword, his arms moving now, with more enthusiasm, almost like a prolonged swing to seem more intimidating.
Zaganos approached Halil. Halil walked slowly up, gripping both what would be the lapels on his black, long coat, made of a lighter fur, with the fur being more noticeable on the lapel, as they were a dark black and were quite fuzzy. Halil stopped in-front of Zaganos, who stood up to the man with the once black beard, however due to his age, was turning to a boring grey, with tints of black still showing through. The man's greying hair was hidden beneath a tightly wrapped turban, matching the colour of his coat.
Zaganos was a bit taller than Halil. Zaganos was about six foot, however Halil was about five foot eight. Not much, however Zaganos was confident that he was the dominant figure.
"Zaganos Pasha." Said Halil.
"You dog." Said Zaganos. Zaganos gestured with his left hand to the Janissaries behind him, who shut the double doors of the throne room. Two of the four stepped forward, as the other two stood walked forward, standing in a wedge formation behind Zaganos. Halil stepped back. Halil put his hand in his pocket and the two Janissaries jolted upright. They pointed their assault rifles, which were the best in the country and similar to the HK416 in the real world, right at the head of Halil Pasha. The Janissaries were loyal to Zaganos Pasha and Sultan Mehmed and knew that Halil Pasha would be executed for his actions - sooner or later.
Halil Pasha stared at the muzzles and seemed scared. He took out his hand, spreading out his hands to show he was not holding anything. Halil Pasha looked down and Zaganos continued looking furious. He turned to one of the Janissaries. Halil Pasha turned around and Zaganos nodded. The Janissary walked forward, whipping off handcuffs from his tactical combat belt. He grabbed Halil Pasha and slapped the handcuffs on his wrists.
"On behalf of Sultan Mehmed, you, Çandarlı Halil Pasha, are under arrest until further notice." With these words, Halil Pasha whipped around, however the Janissary clenched his fist and hit him violently across the jaw. A distinctive crack was heard, which was significantly loud, sending Halil Pasha to the floor. Halil Pasha's jaw was now dislocated and out of place, nearly hanging off sideways. The Janissary stared at the old man on the floor, who was now holding his jaw in pain.
"Now I can do much worse, Pasha." Said the Janissary. "Or you can come with us, peacefully and without hesitation." The Grand Vizier was unable to talk, however seemed to nod. He was yanked off of the floor by the two Janissaries, before he was dragged away, Zaganos tailing the two men closely. The double doors were opened for them and Zaganos followed the first two and Halil out, before the other two followed on behind.
They walked to the exit of the palace, where outside, two black, armoured cars were outside, alongside four police bikes and officers to drive them. Halil Pasha was shoved into the back car and Zaganos got into the front one. The engines of the cars started and the sirens of the bikes were activated. The palace gates were opened and the convoy left the area. The streets were completely empty. There was not one car to be seen. This was what order and obedience looked like. The people of Constantinople, or this specific area of the city, stayed home or inside of shops, restaurants, whichever, so the convoy could get through without hassle.
The car drove through the streets at about 60mph. It arrived, about 20 minutes later, at a small army base. Inside, was a cell guarded by military police, where he would be placed in solitary confinement, isolated from the world, as he was seen as 'too unfit and too unstable to have contact with others'. He was ousted from his position upon arrival, with the country currently having no Grand Vizier until Mehmed could return and appoint one. So, until that time, a provisional court was formed, with Zaganos Pasha at the head, effectively becoming Grand Vizier until the return of the Sultan.
The military police dragged the man out of the car and into the building, where he was thrown into a small and slightly tight black room with a dim light providing the only light source for the whole time. 24/7, 365 days a year, it remained on. The man received treatment from on-site doctors and medics. However, all they did was snap his jaw back into place, gave him an ice pack and a tub of plain yogurt to ease the pain, somewhat, if it even could, or to provide something he did not have to chew.
Zaganos Pasha contacted Mehmed and alerted him of the recent developments. Mehmed was pleased that he had be contained and assured Zaganos he would be back soon. Mehmed, however was still in Zoran, on his own, apart from his servant, in a fancy hotel. Zaganos did hope he would be back soon, however, as he wanted this mess sorted out. And Zaganos knew Mehmed had the ability to do so.
However, back in solitary confinement, Halil Pasha knew his life was coming to an end. He had taken a gamble and it had not payed off. He wanted to do something to entertain himself. But there was no books, no television, no electronics, no nothing. Just a toilet, sink and a wooden bed with a blanket and thin pillow. Halil lay down on the wooden, uncomfortable bed, which gave him a splinter and he closed his eyes, attempting to get some sleep.

Mehmed dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, before twisting his foot a few times, before walking back to the hotel. He entered and he saw his bodyguards bow. Mehmed nodded, as he took off his Bork hat. The paparazi had cleared out somewhat, however those inside were blocked from taking photographs by Mehmed's bodyguards or secret service members. Mehmed walked hastily in the lobby, trying to avoid too much attention.
Mehmed reached the lift and typed in the numbers needed to get to his floor. Mehmed, once he got there, dismissed his bodyguards. Once alone, he stood in the middle of the room, overlooking the wall-sized window, overlooking the landscape. Mehmed's hand moved to the handle of his sword and slowly removed it from the sceathe. He examined it, moving the sword to different angles so he could see it.
The sword belonged to his father Murad bin Mehemmed Han and when he died in 1417, the sword was given to Mehmed. The sword was made for Murad, who personalised it to his own taste, which Mehmed also happened to like. When Murad died, Mehmed took his sword as his own. Mehmed thought of the history of the unique blade, as he turned the sword around with his fingers, flipping it around, almost. He sceathed it, not wanting to damage anything.
Mehmed called over his servant, Emine. She walked over, and bowed her head.
"What may I help you with Sultan?" She asked.
"I would like a meal, if I may." Mehmed replied.
"Of course. I will tell the cooks." She said. Mehmed nodded and she bowed, before turning. She walked away. Mehmed turned, sitting back down in his chair. He rested his head back, as he overlooked the horizon outside. He thought about how he had not been around the whole building yet. So, Mehmed stood up.
However, a man walked in, with a notepad and pen. Mehmed turned on the spot, having heard the door open. Mehmed looked at the man, his eyes squinted slightly. The man bowed, however seemee to be unaware of what he was to actually do. "Sultan." The man said. "May I take your order, for your meal?"
Mehmed nodded. "Fish. If I can ask for a large fish, I don't really mind what type, a salad and whatever else you may choose." Mehmed said.
"A drink?" The man asked.
"Of course. Just get me some water."
"Yes, Sultan." The man bowed, once more, before leaving Mehmed.
Mehmed, however, instead sat down. He took out one of the Zoranian cigarettes and lit it. He began smoking it, holding the cigarette rather firmly between his thumb and index finger. Mehmed loved to sit around and watch the outside world go by.
His meal arrived and Mehmed finished it up, before praying and having a short nap, as he was rather tired.

THE Sultan glanced at Ani'-Wah', as he said this. The Sultan's hand raised to the sword he carried, which was almost a tradition. He wasn't wearing a coat, however, more a robe. Yes, he did have armour on, again nearly tradition for Sultans like himself. He nodded, as his land lowered. He walked down the steps hastily, as he saw one of his bodyguards approaching him. The bodyguard stopped in-front of Mehmed before he bowed, then stepped forward. He began whispering quietly into Mehmed's ear. 
"We have news from Constantinople, Sultan. Halil Pasha is, according to Zaganos Pasha, planning to take action against those protesters we were talking about a few days before your departure."
 "Çandarlı Halil Pasha?" The Sultan said quietly. The bodyguard nodded. Mehmed looked up at the sky, wondering what the hell Çandarlı was doing. Mehmed knew he needed to be stopped, whether this rumour was true, or not.
Mehmed dismissed the bodyguard, who jogged back to the limousine. As he went, he took out a mobile phone and began speaking, presumably to someone in Constantinople providing him with further information. Mehmed had his back to the President, a concerned, yet angry expression on his face. He shook his head briefly, before turning to the President, with a faint smile on his face. "Lets not waste anymore time, Mr President. We should be going."
Mehmed didn't want to waste anymore time. He walked hastily back to the limousine. He had the door opened for him and he climbed inside. The door was shut and Mehmed broke into a slight fit of rage. "Deceitful dog!" Mehmed bellowed in Lanorthan. "I should have his head for this!"
"Patience, Sultan!" Insisted his bodyguard.
"A commodity of which I have precious little at this moment in time." Mehmed barked back.
Mehmed turned to his bodyguard. "Pass me your phone before I take your head first." Mehmed demanded.
"Of course, my Sultan." Said the bodyguard, as his hand raced to his pocket, took out his mobile phone and passed it to the Sultan. The Sultan opened it and dialled Zaganos Pasha's secretary. The phone picked up.
"Hello, may I help you?"
"Get Zaganos Pasha on the phone, now!" By this time, both limousines were driving to the site. Mehmed turned to the driver, as the phone was put through.
"Stories of this conversation you are hearing do not leave this car, do you understand me?" Mehmed demanded.
"Of course, Sultan..." Said the driver.
Mehmed turned back to the phone. "My Sultan." Zaganos Pasha said.
"Zaganos Pasha, I need you to have Çandarlı Halil Pasha under a close eye until I return. This is a serious matter, if what you say is true."
"I speak no lie, Sultan." Zaganos replied.
"I hope so. I trust you, Zaganos. You have been by my side since I was 10. I trust you completely, my lala*."
"Goodbye, my Sultan." Said Zaganos.
"Farewell." Mehmed replied, before hanging up and handing the phone back to his bodyguard.
Mehmed looked out of the window, his hands clenched into fists. They all sat in silence until the limousines arrived at the site. Mehmed took off his armour, leaving only his black belt. With his armour off, it revealed parts of the robes which were crimson. Mehmed left his sword and dagger in the limousine, too. He also took off his Bork hat and had his bodyguard fetch Mehmed's white turban surmounted by a spray of diamonds and precious stones.
Mehmed stepped out of the car after the door was opened for him. Mehmed's hand ran over his short beard briefly, before stepping forward to the President. "Sorry for leaving so... abruptly, President." Mehmed said. His eyes glanced to the young woman standing next to the Sultan. His eyes, after viewing her, seemed to be unimpressed or unfascinated. His eyes darted back to the President. Mehmed felt unsafe or unprotected without his armour.
Mehmed gestured forward and walked with the President around the battle site, touring it, with the President, listening to his every word, however not replying. Mehmed visited the memorial and Mehmed didn't really pay his respects, as he had nothing to do with the war and whether Zoran lost it or not, it wouldn't have affected him or his path. Mehmed, after about an hour of touring, began to return to his limousine, having toured everything the President wished him to see. He got changed back into his clothes and carefully wrapped his turban up. His limousine returned to the hotel and Mehmed stepped out with his armour back on, sword and dagger, alongside his Bork hat. He waved the President goodbye. However, he didn't walk into the hotel. He walked to the gardens. He dismissed his bodyguards and stood there, with green spreading the whole width of the garden.
Mehmed brought his most trusted bodyguard over, Suleiman and began to speak to him. "I like to sit here in the sunshine. Trees in the fields are green sublime. Suspended in time, but doesn't it make you feel small?" Mehmed asked.
"Yes, my Sultan, I suppose it does." Came the reply.
"You may leave. Get some rest." The Sultan said.
"Thank you, my Sultan." Suleiman said, before he walked back to the hotel. Mehmed approached a seat in the garden and sat down. He lit a cigarette and began smoking. He embraced the lush garden, which seemed to be in an eternal explosion of life. Mehmed inhaled the fresh air. He sat back and like he did a night or so prior, let the day drift away, smoking his flavoured cigarettes. Mehmed glanced up at the blue sky, before thinking of Halil Pasha back in Constantinople and what he was doing. Mehmed then quickly dialled Zaganos and informed him of his plans to have him executed. After he hang up, he relaxed. He closed his eyes, however not to fall asleep, merely to think of the past few days, Sabriye's death, the protesters. The list went on. But he assured himself everything would be fine.
 
* Lala is a Lanorthan word, which means adviser, mentor, tutor, councillor and protector of Sultan Mehmed.

THE Sultan glanced at Ani'-Wah', as he said this. The Sultan's hand raised to the sword he carried, which was almost a tradition. He wasn't wearing a coat, however, more a robe. Yes, he did have armour on, again nearly tradition for Sultans like himself. He nodded, as his land lowered. He walked down the steps hastily, as he saw one of his bodyguards approaching him. The bodyguard stopped in-front of Mehmed before he bowed, then stepped forward. He began whispering quietly into Mehmed's ear. 
"We have news from Constantinople, Sultan. Halil Pasha is, according to Zaganos Pasha, planning to take action against those protesters we were talking about a few days before your departure."
 "Çandarlı Halil Pasha?" The Sultan said quietly. The bodyguard nodded. Mehmed looked up at the sky, wondering what the hell Çandarlı was doing. Mehmed knew he needed to be stopped, whether this rumour was true, or not.
Mehmed dismissed the bodyguard, who jogged back to the limousine. As he went, he took out a mobile phone and began speaking, presumably to someone in Constantinople providing him with further information. Mehmed had his back to the President, a concerned, yet angry expression on his face. He shook his head briefly, before turning to the President, with a faint smile on his face. "Lets not waste anymore time, Mr President. We should be going."
Mehmed didn't want to waste anymore time. He walked hastily back to the limousine. He had the door opened for him and he climbed inside. The door was shut and Mehmed broke into a slight fit of rage. "Deceitful dog!" Mehmed bellowed in Lanorthan. "I should have his head for this!"
"Patience, Sultan!" Insisted his bodyguard.
"A commodity of which I have precious little at this moment in time." Mehmed barked back.
Mehmed turned to his bodyguard. "Pass me your phone before I take your head first." Mehmed demanded.
"Of course, my Sultan." Said the bodyguard, as his hand raced to his pocket, took out his mobile phone and passed it to the Sultan. The Sultan opened it and dialled Zaganos Pasha's secretary. The phone picked up.
"Hello, may I help you?"
"Get Zaganos Pasha on the phone, now!" By this time, both limousines were driving to the site. Mehmed turned to the driver, as the phone was put through.
"Stories of this conversation you are hearing do not leave this car, do you understand me?" Mehmed demanded.
"Of course, Sultan..." Said the driver.
Mehmed turned back to the phone. "My Sultan." Zaganos Pasha said.
"Zaganos Pasha, I need you to have Çandarlı Halil Pasha under a close eye until I return. This is a serious matter, if what you say is true."
"I speak no lie, Sultan." Zaganos replied.
"I hope so. I trust you, Zaganos. You have been by my side since I was 10. I trust you completely, my lala*."
"Goodbye, my Sultan." Said Zaganos.
"Farewell." Mehmed replied, before hanging up and handing the phone back to his bodyguard.
Mehmed looked out of the window, his hands clenched into fists. They all sat in silence until the limousines arrived at the site. Mehmed took off his armour, leaving only his black belt. With his armour off, it revealed parts of the robes which were crimson. Mehmed left his sword and dagger in the limousine, too. He also took off his Bork hat and had his bodyguard fetch Mehmed's white turban surmounted by a spray of diamonds and precious stones.
Mehmed stepped out of the car after the door was opened for him. Mehmed's hand ran over his short beard briefly, before stepping forward to the President. "Sorry for leaving so... abruptly, President." Mehmed said. His eyes glanced to the young woman standing next to the Sultan. His eyes, after viewing her, seemed to be unimpressed or unfascinated. His eyes darted back to the President. Mehmed felt unsafe or unprotected without his armour.
Mehmed gestured forward and walked with the President around the battle site, touring it, with the President, listening to his every word, however not replying. Mehmed visited the memorial and Mehmed didn't really pay his respects, as he had nothing to do with the war and whether Zoran lost it or not, it wouldn't have affected him or his path. Mehmed, after about an hour of touring, began to return to his limousine, having toured everything the President wished him to see. He got changed back into his clothes and carefully wrapped his turban up. His limousine returned to the hotel and Mehmed stepped out with his armour back on, sword and dagger, alongside his Bork hat. He waved the President goodbye. However, he didn't walk into the hotel. He walked to the gardens. He dismissed his bodyguards and stood there, with green spreading the whole width of the garden.
Mehmed brought his most trusted bodyguard over, Suleiman and began to speak to him. "I like to sit here in the sunshine. Trees in the fields are green sublime. Suspended in time, but doesn't it make you feel small?" Mehmed asked.
"Yes, my Sultan, I suppose it does." Came the reply.
"You may leave. Get some rest." The Sultan said.
"Thank you, my Sultan." Suleiman said, before he walked back to the hotel. Mehmed approached a seat in the garden and sat down. He lit a cigarette and began smoking. He embraced the lush garden, which seemed to be in an eternal explosion of life. Mehmed inhaled the fresh air. He sat back and like he did a night or so prior, let the day drift away, smoking his flavoured cigarettes. Mehmed glanced up at the blue sky, before thinking of Halil Pasha back in Constantinople and what he was doing. Mehmed then quickly dialled Zaganos and informed him of his plans to have him executed. After he hang up, he relaxed. He closed his eyes, however not to fall asleep, merely to think of the past few days, Sabriye's death, the protesters. The list went on. But he assured himself everything would be fine.
 
* Lala is a Lanorthan word, which means adviser, mentor, tutor, councillor and protector of Sultan Mehmed.

IN the hospital, Sabriye was being prepared to move. She was currently asleep, with an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. Oxygen is not a cure for heart failure, though it could very well help. She was classified as needing 'intensive care' and was being flown back to Lanorth within the next few hours, where she would continue to get further treatment.
In her hospital bed, she was wheeled out of the hospital and placed in the back of an ambulance. Ahead of her, a police convoy, to ensure she was transported to the nearest airport safely. Her heart was stabilising, though was going to become less stable, very quickly, alongside her breathing. The convoy began to move with their sirens and lights blaring, rushing to the airport. In the back of the ambulance, she was still undergoing treatment.
Mehmed saw the convoy from the window of his suite. He watched, as the flashing lights, from his perspective, slowly moved across the area. With a glass of alcohol in his hand, he sipped as he saw them move across his line of sight before they were no longer visible. Mehmed sighed, knowing who was in the ambulance and why.
They arrived at the airport soon after. She was wheeled out of the ambulance and transported into an aircraft, where she was allowed to rest, with a window view if she wanted to look out. Her paler skin seemed far too light for her. Many suspected that she would not make it to Lanorth. She continued to sleep when the plane took off and reached the planned altitude.
Around thirty minutes passed, as the plane soared through the sky. At approximately forty-five minutes into the flight, however, she slipped into a coma, meaning her brain was not receiving enough oxygen. Cells in the brain can die out in five minutes without the necessary oxygen. As a result, brain hypoxia can rapidly lead to severe brain damage and death. On-board doctors and nurses rushed to attend to her, but it was likely too late, as they were delayed by turbulence.
It was indeed too late. When they arrived, a lot of her cells had died off without enough oxygen. Hypoxia had now affected most, if not all of her organs. Due to this, her brain and organs suffered severe damage and at the age of 20, in a coma, she passed away. Mehmed was immediately alerted of her passing, with her cause of death being labelled to Mehmed as 'Hypoxia-related complications due to a lack of oxygen to the body'. Mehmed then contacted the President's staff, alerting them of her passing, telling them she died of the cause of death he was told.
Mehmed was later photographed by the press in the hotel lobby, talking with the secret service director for Lanorthan agents in Zoran. His eyes seemed to be a bit watery, but maybe this was just for effect. Mehmed was sad she had died, maybe, but death did not make him cry. He hardly ever cried. He had ordered the death of people beforehand. To him, this was just another dead person in the world. He denied the request of a state funeral for her back home. 
Mehmed alerted Sabriye's father, who broke down into tears hearing the news. Mehmed said 'her heart conditions returned and sadly, whe deteriorated in the hospital and plane. Due to this, she did not make it.' When the plane touched down in Lanorth, her coffin was transported out of the plane and into a hearse, where she would be transported to a morgue to determine an official cause of death. Mehmed had ordered this.
Mehmed also alerted the staff of the President that he would continue the state visit despite recent events. Mostly due to the fact he knew the President had a matter of days left, judging by the look of him. So, Mehmed, in the President's final days, or what he presumed were his final days, wanted to keep his spirits up. Mehmed sat down in his chair that night, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He downed the glass and set it down on the table. It made a loud noise as he did so. Mehmed then walked over to his bed. He took off his robes, ceremonial armour he wore daily, etc. He put on some crimson robes he used for nightwear and lay down. He turned onto his left side, looking out of the window. He closed his eyes and fell asleep a few minutes later.
Mehmed awoke the next morning, his servant standing in-front of him, holding a tray with his favourite morning drink on it, a warm fruit juice. Mehmed took the tray from her and sat it down on the table next to him. "Thank you, my dear." Mehmed said, nodding. She bowed.
"Anytime, my Sultan." She said, before walking away. Mehmed took his hand and rubbed it down his face. He took the pot and poured the juice into the mug provided. He held the mug by the handle, raising it to his lips. He took a sip and placed it back down on the tray. Mehmed watched as she walked out of sight, presumably downstairs to get Mehmed breakfast. Mehmed knew she was unaware of the passing of Sabriye. Soon, the news would break out. It already had in Lanorth, with the article 'LADY SABRIYE DEAD' or something similar buzzing around.
When she did indeed come back with Mehmed's breakfast, a full breakfast, Mehmed said;
"Thank you." As she bowed and turned, Mehmed cleared his throat. She turned, looking at him.
"Yes, my Sultan?" She asked.
"You are aware that Lady Sabriye passed away last night on her flight back to Lanorth?" Mehmed said. She looked shocked. The servant's eyes flooded with tears. She shook her head vigorously, covering her mouth with her hand. "Sorry." Mehmed said, sighing. "Use my bathroom, take a minute, yes?" She did not reply. She seemed to jog to the bathroom. She shut the door. Mehmed heard her sobbing. Now feeling bad, he sat up again and took the tray with his breakfast on it. He sat it down on his lap and began to eat.

MEHMED, by the time the President came into his suite, was showered and had clean robes on. Mehmed turned, a slight smile on his face, knowing who entered the room. He had his back turned from the President, as he was facing the window. "I was not put on this world for nothing, Mr President." Mehmed said, gesturing above him. "ʼĔlāhā gave me this life. This is merely his plan for me." Mehmed said, obviously gesturing to Sabriye. ʼĔlāhā, meaning 'Creator of The World' in Lanorthan, or just simply 'God', was the only God in Lanorth's national religion. Mehmed turned to the President. The faint smile still on his face. "It is a burden I must bear. And I will." He finished.
Mehmed examined the President from where he was standing. His eyes briefly scanned him, with Mehmed's eyes drifting from the President's headm to his feet. Mehmed noticed how he seemed more pale. Mehmed quickly established in his mind that old age was getting the man, or the man was slowly succumbing. Mehmed set down the mug, which previously had the warm juice in it. He set it down on a tray with the pot and his empty plates which had his breakfast on it. His servant would clean it up when the two left.
"One day, dear friend," Mehmed said, "you will wake up to see the end for what it really is. So, for the time you have left, if I were you, I would stop waiting on the future. I would move in and secure the deal. Because, as I have said, you will wake up and see the end for what it is. You will have regrets. That is why I do not dwell on the past. When opportunities arrive, I take them. You should too, for the time you have left. For Sabriye, she could have. But it was too late for her. So. Do it for me?" Mehmed said. He gestured to his servant, who walked over to his trays and began cleaning them up. She had stopped crying now and felt better.
Mehmed approached the President, placing his right hand on the President's right shoulder. "Come on, friend. Lets not waste anymore time." Mehmed walked with the President to the lift, where they went to the ground floor. Mehmed and the President parted ways when they went to their limos. Mehmed sat down in his limo and sighed. He took off his Bork hat and set it down next to him. He took out his hand and placed it over his eyesbrows, looking down. He sighed, lowering his hand and looking back up. 'What is done has been done. You cannot change what has happened.' Mehmed thought to himself.
He sighed. He looked out of the window and continued to do so. Mehmed, after a long, prolonged silence, was told they had arrived. He stepped out slowly, before taking inhaling and exhaling when outside. He found the cars hot and stuffy. He much preferred it outside. He chuckled, as he saw the sights. He turned to the President, who was now out of the car. Mehmed smiled at him.

In the presidential chambers of Austenaco Presidential manor, the old president laid in bed as the doctor examined him. The doctor gave him some medication to support him but before he left he said,
"I am afraid that there is little any doctor can do for you Mr. Ani'-Wah'. While most healthy people like you live to about their 90s, you are dying of natural causes. You have about four days to live. I...I wish I could do more for you."
The old man closed his eyes and sighed, he knew this day was quickly approaching. He has had a long and eventful life, full of tension, conflict, and tragedy. He was not afraid of death, he would accept it.
"Do not despair Dr. Ahalakochee, as you have said there is little that you can do. You have been a fine doctor and you have kept me in the best of health. The Great Spirit calls for our spirits in time and He has determined that my time on this world is almost up. But He keeps me alive for these next four days to complete my part in the lives of others." said President Ani'-Wah' in a warm and kind tone. Dr. Ahalakochee nodded and wished Ani'-Wah' goodbye before exiting the room.
I suspect that my final task shall be to make an impact on the life of the young Sultan. Oh Great Spirit grant me the strength and vitality to see my purpose through.
He thought to himself before asking the Raven Claw in his room,
"Any word from our guests at the hotel?"
"Indeed there is sir," answered the Raven Claw, "one of the members of the Sultan's secret service called for a doctor after the partner of the young Sultan feinted in the hotel lobby."
The old man's eyes widened at this news and enraged asked,
"Why have you not told me this sooner!? Where is she now?! Has the Sultan been informed of what has occurred!?"
"I did not wish to tell you because it was important that you listen to the doctor. According to what other Raven Claws have reported, she was taken to Twin Spirit Hospital so she is in good hands as you know it is one of the best hospitals in the nation. As for whether the Sultan has been informed is not known, it is a high possibility that the Sultan has been informed by his secret service but if so we have not been informed." answered the Raven Claw.
At these words, the president got up out of bed, put on his suit and turban, stuck the feather in his turban, and grabbed his satchel and told the Raven Claw,
"Get the limos ready, I intend to inform the Sultan himself if he has not been informed!" He ordered. The man saluted and contacted the other Raven Claws via his earpiece to put things in action. Ani'-Wah' and the Raven Claw left the chamber to depart for the hotel.
Poor girl, she must have not been used to travel or the climate here. Hopefully the girl is alright, she might need to be sent home based on my experience.
The old man thought to himself as they approached the hotel. He could see police officers writing a report of what has occured. The Raven Claws and the Lanorth secret service were clearing the way for the president. He stopped to ask one of the secret service members,
"Have you informed the Sultan?"
"Not yet, we did not wish to wake him." He answered,
"What do you mean!? Aren't you supposed to inform him of ANYTHING that should happen to his partner!?" Ani'-Wah' answered angrily,
"Well uh...I gue-"
"You guess what!? I may not be your boss but I still understand what the Sultan would want you to do!" He interrupted before he ran towards the elevator and punched in the code to the International Suite.
They were obviously a new but I can also tell that they weren't the one who got Sabriye to the hospital. I just hope the Sultan will be alright.

THE Sultan walked down the steps, smiling at the President. He stepped onto the red carpet with Sabriye, who let go of his hand as Mehmed approached the President calmly. "Mr President." Said Mehmed, stretching out his hand to shake the hand of the President. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I trust Çandarlı Pasha was an acceptable diplomat to sign our pact?" Asked the Sultan in a calm and collected tone. After receiving an answer, he turned to Sabriye, who stepped forward.
"This is my..." he paused. "Partner, Sabriye." He said. She stepped forward and curtseyed, before shaking his hand. Mehmed turned, admiring the sky above him. He inhaled the fresh air. "It's wonderful here." He turned to the President. "Say, Mr President. You should visit Constantinople one day." He said, pointing gently in the direction of Lanorth. "We would love it 
Mehmed sighed. "My God, I'm tired." He glanced at his watch. "We best be off - we were up quite early this morning." Said Mehmed. "Didn't sleep on the plane." He shook his hand once more, before he walked over to the limousine. After the door was opened for him, Mehmed took Sabriye's hand and helped her into the limousine. After she was inside, Mehmed entered and sat down. The door was shut and Mehmed heard the engine start. He sat back, putting his arm around Sabriye. She smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"First impressions?" Mehmed asked, as the limo began to move.
"Nice man." She said. "I trust we will be seeing him again soon?"
"Yes, we will but I was referring to Zoran as a whole." Mehmed said.
"Ah." She said. "Well, it seems nice. Beautiful landscape, I think. Not as good as the scenes back home, though." Mehmed chuckled. 
"Trust me, you are going to love this." He said. "This is a new adventure for you. It will not last forever. Make every second count."
"Alright." She replied. They sat in silence for the remainder of the journey to the hotel, as Sabriye fell asleep. They arrived soon after. When the door was opened, Mehmed stepped out and helped Sabriye out. He then turned and stared up at the hotel in utter admiration, at jow beautiful it was.
"Wow..." Mehmed murmured. He turned to Sabriye. "Ready?" He asked. Sabriye nodded. "Lets go."

FOLLOWING the signing of a defensive pact between Lanorth and Zoran, in order to improve relations, Mehmed proposed he visited Zoran in a state visit. Zoran accepted, so Mehmed and his girlfriend, Sabriye, who had hardly ever travelled abroad due to the travel restrictions of the military dictatorship, had left Constantinople for the Adanvdo International Airport in Zoradia.
The plane, a red and white decorated with the Lanorthan flag and the words "The Sultanate of Lanorth" on each side, had left several hours ago now. It was closer to Zoran now than it was to Lanorth. It was travelling at around five-hundred miles-per-hour. Mehmed, inside was wearing his usual black uniform with his black Bork hat. Though, his hat was on the table in-front of him, as he sat down in a chair with a window view. In-front of him, was Sabriye, dressed in a pretty, blue dress with a tiarra in her neat hair. Mehmed sat on a sofa and so did Sabriye, however, they were small versions of sofas and were facing each-other.
"I presume we are nearly there, Sabriye." Said Mehmed, looking at his watch.
"I hope so." She said. "Never have liked the idea of an aircraft. A metal box flying in the air."
"It's perfectly safe here. You are fine." Said Mehmed, smiling at her. Mehmed placed his hand over her own. Mehmed became slightly agitated, as she was not looking at him.
"Look at me, Sabriye." Mehmed said. Sabriye turned her head. "You'll be fine." Said Mehmed reassuringly.
"God, I hope so." Said Sabriye.
"So." Said Mehmed, sitting back. "Looking forward to this?" He asked.
"Yeah." Said Sabriye, looking at Mehmed as he took out a cigarette. Mehmed lit it with his lighter, inhaling and then exhaling.
"Well, I know for sure that I am." Said Mehmed. He then turned his head, gesturing for his servant. His servant approached him and bowed.
"Yes, my Sultan?" Mehmed handed him his personalised cigarette case.
"I would like some more cigarettes in there, please." Said Mehmed.
"Of course, my Sultan." Said the servant. He bowed, once again before walking off with them, going to find Mehmed's other cigarettes.
Mehmed looked out of the window on his left. He realised the clouds were getting nearer and nearer. As his servant came back with his case and handed it to him, Mehmed inquired about the plane.
"Are we coming into land?" Mehmed asked, gesturing to the window.
"I believe so, Sultan. I would say, five to ten minutes, maybe and we should be there."
"Fantastic." Said Mehmed. "Thank you." He gestured to the servant, who bowed once more, before walking away. Sabriye remained unusually quiet, looking out of the window. "What are you staring at?" Asked Mehmed.
"Look out of the window." Said Sabriye. Mehmed turned his head and looked out of the window.
"Oh my God." Said Mehmed, in admiration. He had a clear view over the platypus island and the city upon it, as well as parts of the ocean surrounding it. It was beautiful.
"That is what I was staring at, Mehmed." Said Sabriye.
"Don't blame you." Said Mehmed, clearing his throat, before standing up. Sabriye did the same. Sabriye walked around the table and stood in-front of Mehmed, before hugging him, resting her head on his chest. "We have to be ready." Said Mehmed, hugging her for a few seconds, before stepping back, lifting his hat from the table, before placing it on his head. Mehmed took one last puff from his cigarette, before stubbing it out. He then turned, as he felt the aircraft touch down in the airport.
As the aircraft came to a perfect stop, Mehmed gestured to Sabriye, who stepped forward. Mehmed put out his hand and Sabriye took it. They waited. The aircraft doors opened and a series of steps extended out. A man in military uniform stepped out to complete some final touches to the steps, before he gestured to six men in ceremonial military uniform.
They stepped out, walking in synchronisation. Mehmed watched as they filed out of the aircraft doors and walked formally down the steps, standing on either side of the red carpet in threes. A few men in black formal clothing, members of the secret service, filed out, before Mehmed and Sabriye stepped forward. They stopped as they reached a small landing which led to the steps. Mehmed waved as they paused. Mehmed smiled, taking in the view. Mehmed looked down at the steps as he and Sabriye moved towards them.

FOLLOWING the signing of a defensive pact between Lanorth and Zoran, in order to improve relations, Mehmed proposed he visited Zoran in a state visit. Zoran accepted, so Mehmed and his girlfriend, Sabriye, who had hardly ever travelled abroad due to the travel restrictions of the military dictatorship, had left Constantinople for the Adanvdo International Airport in Zoradia.
The plane, a red and white decorated with the Lanorthan flag and the words "The Sultanate of Lanorth" on each side, had left several hours ago now. It was closer to Zoran now than it was to Lanorth. It was travelling at around five-hundred miles-per-hour. Mehmed, inside was wearing his usual black uniform with his black Bork hat. Though, his hat was on the table in-front of him, as he sat down in a chair with a window view. In-front of him, was Sabriye, dressed in a pretty, blue dress with a tiarra in her neat hair. Mehmed sat on a sofa and so did Sabriye, however, they were small versions of sofas and were facing each-other.
"I presume we are nearly there, Sabriye." Said Mehmed, looking at his watch.
"I hope so." She said. "Never have liked the idea of an aircraft. A metal box flying in the air."
"It's perfectly safe here. You are fine." Said Mehmed, smiling at her. Mehmed placed his hand over her own. Mehmed became slightly agitated, as she was not looking at him.
"Look at me, Sabriye." Mehmed said. Sabriye turned her head. "You'll be fine." Said Mehmed reassuringly.
"God, I hope so." Said Sabriye.
"So." Said Mehmed, sitting back. "Looking forward to this?" He asked.
"Yeah." Said Sabriye, looking at Mehmed as he took out a cigarette. Mehmed lit it with his lighter, inhaling and then exhaling.
"Well, I know for sure that I am." Said Mehmed. He then turned his head, gesturing for his servant. His servant approached him and bowed.
"Yes, my Sultan?" Mehmed handed him his personalised cigarette case.
"I would like some more cigarettes in there, please." Said Mehmed.
"Of course, my Sultan." Said the servant. He bowed, once again before walking off with them, going to find Mehmed's other cigarettes.
Mehmed looked out of the window on his left. He realised the clouds were getting nearer and nearer. As his servant came back with his case and handed it to him, Mehmed inquired about the plane.
"Are we coming into land?" Mehmed asked, gesturing to the window.
"I believe so, Sultan. I would say, five to ten minutes, maybe and we should be there."
"Fantastic." Said Mehmed. "Thank you." He gestured to the servant, who bowed once more, before walking away. Sabriye remained unusually quiet, looking out of the window. "What are you staring at?" Asked Mehmed.
"Look out of the window." Said Sabriye. Mehmed turned his head and looked out of the window.
"Oh my God." Said Mehmed, in admiration. He had a clear view over the platypus island and the city upon it, as well as parts of the ocean surrounding it. It was beautiful.
"That is what I was staring at, Mehmed." Said Sabriye.
"Don't blame you." Said Mehmed, clearing his throat, before standing up. Sabriye did the same. Sabriye walked around the table and stood in-front of Mehmed, before hugging him, resting her head on his chest. "We have to be ready." Said Mehmed, hugging her for a few seconds, before stepping back, lifting his hat from the table, before placing it on his head. Mehmed took one last puff from his cigarette, before stubbing it out. He then turned, as he felt the aircraft touch down in the airport.
As the aircraft came to a perfect stop, Mehmed gestured to Sabriye, who stepped forward. Mehmed put out his hand and Sabriye took it. They waited. The aircraft doors opened and a series of steps extended out. A man in military uniform stepped out to complete some final touches to the steps, before he gestured to six men in ceremonial military uniform.
They stepped out, walking in synchronisation. Mehmed watched as they filed out of the aircraft doors and walked formally down the steps, standing on either side of the red carpet in threes. A few men in black formal clothing, members of the secret service, filed out, before Mehmed and Sabriye stepped forward. They stopped as they reached a small landing which led to the steps. Mehmed waved as they paused. Mehmed smiled, taking in the view. Mehmed looked down at the steps as he and Sabriye moved towards them.

PART 8: RELATIONSHIPS, BOTH FOREIGN AND PERSONAL
Mehmed lay in his bed. His hands were on his head. Next to him, lay Sabriye, who was lying there. Sabriye sighed. Mehmed turned over, away from her. Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. "What the hell?" Murmured Mehmed, looking at the door,
"Who is that?" Asked Sabriye.
"I don't know." Mehmed replied, getting out of bed. He put on his robe. "Who's there?" Ask Mehmed.
"I have a message for you, my Sultan." Came the voice of one of his servants.
"What is it?" Asked Mehmed.
"It's your Minister of Defence, Sultan. Çandarlı Pasha." She said. "He has secured a treaty with Zoran, a defensive pact, I believe." She said.
"Okay, thank you for letting me know." Mehmed said.
"No problem, my Sultan." Mehmed heard footsteps leading away from the door. Mehmed turned back to Sabriye, who remained in bed. Mehmed walked over and crouched down next to the bed. She sat up, leaning her forehead against his. Mehmed stood up and walked around the bed, lying back down.
"What to do, what to do." Said Mehmed as he lay down. "I know." Said Mehmed. He reached over to his bedside tabe and grabbed his cigarette case and his lighter. "I'll have a smoke." He flicked open the case, taking out a cigarette. He flicked the case shut, uputting it back on his table. He used the lighter to light the cigarette, before placing it back on the table. He inhaled. As he took the cigarette away from his lips, Sabriye put out her hand, as if she was gesturing for the cigarette.
"May I?" Asked Sabriye. "Not something I tend to do, I'd like to try it though." She said. Mehmed handed her the cigarette.
"Sure, go ahead." Said Mehmed. Mehmed watched her raise the cigarette to her lips and watched her inhale, but she exhaled almost immidiately, letting out a cough. Mehmed took the cigarette back from her.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"Yeah." Said Sabriye. "Smoking is not something I frequently do... I love the taste, though."
"Vanilla flavoured. Best cigarettes in all of the country." Said Mehmed, putting it back up to his lips. "Smoking may be bad for you, sure. But it gives you a feeling of... pleasure." Said Mehmed, smoke coming from his mouth as he talked.
"Mehmed." Said Sabriye, turning onto her side to face Mehmed.
"Yes" Said Mehmed, turning onto his side to face her.
"I need to ask, what are we doing here?" Mehmed looked at her, a confused look on his face.
"Pardon?" Said Mehmed.
"With... us." Said Sabriye. "I love you, Mehmed. But I need to know, do you love me too?" She asked. Mehmed ignored her.
"Okay" She said, sighing.
"We best be getting up now." Said Mehmed. "Again."
"Course." Said Sabriye. They then, got out of bed. Ready to start the day. However, steadily, tension grew between them. Mehmed was beginning to feel hatred, somewhat and regret of this new relationship.

PART 7: CONSTANTINOPLE'S SUNRISE
Mehmed awoke. He slowly sat running his right hand over his face. He looked to his right. Sabriye lay there, still asleep. Mehmed smiled to himself, thinking about the previous night. He got out of bed and put on his dressing gown, made from what would be called in our world, Ottoman silk. He sat down, picking up the case of cigarettes he had placed on his desk. He then picked up his lighter, before he walked outside, onto the balcony where they stood several hours prior. The sun was beginning to rise over the city. Mehemd placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it.
He watched the sunrise, letting the smoke once again fill his lungs as the taste of vanilla lingered over his tongue. He exhaled slowly. A cloud of smoke emerged from his lips. As he watched the sunrise, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, to see Sabriye in one of his dressing gowns. He smiled. She smiled back. "Joining me then?" Mehmed said.
"Yes" She replied walking forwards to stand next to him. One next to him, she leaned her head against his shoulder. Mehmed chuckled.
"What do you like more? The surnise or the sunset?" Mehmed asked, still admiring the sun's glow as it began to rise.
"I prefer the sunset. But the sunrise is just as beautiful." She responded, sighing. Mehmed rested his head against the top of her head, as the sun became visible over the city.
"Should we have breakfast?" Mehmed asked her, raising his head back up.
"Not yet." She responded. "Lets wait until it has risen completely." Mehmed chuckled.
"Very well." He said. Mehmed looked back up at the sunrise. He felt her arm wrap around his waist. Mehmed turned to her. "Okay. Lets go and have breakfast now? I'm getting quite hungry." Sabriye sighed. She then leaned in and kissed Mehmed on the lips. After exchanging this kiss, she stepped back.
"Now we can." Mehmed placed out his two hands and Sabriye took them both. Mehmed then rested his forehead against her own and Mehmed kissed her forehead.
"Then lets go. But first, we best get dressed." He said. Mehmed dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, before kicking it aside. They walked inside and Mehmed walked over to his closet. He put on his standard black robes with the ceremonial armour plate he loved to wear. He turned to Sabriye, who had put on a blue dress. "Ready?" Mehmed asked her. She nodded. Mehmed then approached her and put out his hand, once again and Sabriye took it.
Mehmed and Sabriye then walked to the door of the bedroom, before it was opened by Mehmed's servant. Mehmed and Sabriye then walked down the stairs to the dining hall. Mehmed, when they reached the table they were going to sit at, let go of her hand and gestured to a seat, which he had pulled up for her. She sat down and Mehmed pushed her in gently. Mehmed then walked around and sat in his own chair. A waiter then approached them and asked for their order.
Mehmed gestured to Sabriye, who asked for a healthy breakfast that the waiter could pick for her, whilst Mehmed ordered a full Lanorthan breakfast. It arrived and Mehmed had some fruit juice for a drink, whilst Sabriye had some water. They were finished around half-an-hour later. Mehmed and Sabriye stood up and exited the room, walking back up the stairs.
"Sultan?" Asked Sabriye, after she cleared he throat.
"Yes?" Responded Mehmed, inclining his head to look at her as they reached the landing.
"My father. What will he think of, of this? Or, of us, if you will?" She said, looking up at Mehmed.
"Nothing. Your father and I, we are on good terms." Said Mehmed confidently.
"Are you sure?" She asked, stopping as they stood on the landing.
"Of course." Mehmed replied. They held hands. Sabriye leaned in as she wrapped her hands around Mehmed's neck. They exchanged a long, passionate kiss. Sabriye withdrew her head, but leaned in again, as Mehmed lifted her up. She giggled as he lifted her, as they continued doing their thing. Mehmed walked towards their bedroom, shutting the door with his foot behind him.

PART 8: RELATIONSHIPS, BOTH FOREIGN AND PERSONAL
Mehmed lay in his bed. His hands were on his head. Next to him, lay Sabriye, who was lying there. Sabriye sighed. Mehmed turned over, away from her. Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. "What the hell?" Murmured Mehmed, looking at the door,
"Who is that?" Asked Sabriye.
"I don't know." Mehmed replied, getting out of bed. He put on his robe. "Who's there?" Ask Mehmed.
"I have a message for you, my Sultan." Came the voice of one of his servants.
"What is it?" Asked Mehmed.
"It's your Minister of Defence, Sultan. Çandarlı Pasha." She said. "He has secured a treaty with Zoran, a defensive pact, I believe." She said.
"Okay, thank you for letting me know." Mehmed said.
"No problem, my Sultan." Mehmed heard footsteps leading away from the door. Mehmed turned back to Sabriye, who remained in bed. Mehmed walked over and crouched down next to the bed. She sat up, leaning her forehead against his. Mehmed stood up and walked around the bed, lying back down.
"What to do, what to do." Said Mehmed as he lay down. "I know." Said Mehmed. He reached over to his bedside tabe and grabbed his cigarette case and his lighter. "I'll have a smoke." He flicked open the case, taking out a cigarette. He flicked the case shut, uputting it back on his table. He used the lighter to light the cigarette, before placing it back on the table. He inhaled. As he took the cigarette away from his lips, Sabriye put out her hand, as if she was gesturing for the cigarette.
"May I?" Asked Sabriye. "Not something I tend to do, I'd like to try it though." She said. Mehmed handed her the cigarette.
"Sure, go ahead." Said Mehmed. Mehmed watched her raise the cigarette to her lips and watched her inhale, but she exhaled almost immidiately, letting out a cough. Mehmed took the cigarette back from her.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"Yeah." Said Sabriye. "Smoking is not something I frequently do... I love the taste, though."
"Vanilla flavoured. Best cigarettes in all of the country." Said Mehmed, putting it back up to his lips. "Smoking may be bad for you, sure. But it gives you a feeling of... pleasure." Said Mehmed, smoke coming from his mouth as he talked.
"Mehmed." Said Sabriye, turning onto her side to face Mehmed.
"Yes" Said Mehmed, turning onto his side to face her.
"I need to ask, what are we doing here?" Mehmed looked at her, a confused look on his face.
"Pardon?" Said Mehmed.
"With... us." Said Sabriye. "I love you, Mehmed. But I need to know, do you love me too?" She asked. Mehmed ignored her.
"Okay" She said, sighing.
"We best be getting up now." Said Mehmed. "Again."
"Course." Said Sabriye. They then, got out of bed. Ready to start the day. However, steadily, tension grew between them. Mehmed was beginning to feel hatred, somewhat and regret of this new relationship.

PART 8: RELATIONSHIPS, BOTH FOREIGN AND PERSONAL
Mehmed lay in his bed. His hands were on his head. Next to him, lay Sabriye, who was lying there. Sabriye sighed. Mehmed turned over, away from her. Suddenly, there was a knock at his door. "What the hell?" Murmured Mehmed, looking at the door,
"Who is that?" Asked Sabriye.
"I don't know." Mehmed replied, getting out of bed. He put on his robe. "Who's there?" Ask Mehmed.
"I have a message for you, my Sultan." Came the voice of one of his servants.
"What is it?" Asked Mehmed.
"It's your Minister of Defence, Sultan. Çandarlı Pasha." She said. "He has secured a treaty with Zoran, a defensive pact, I believe." She said.
"Okay, thank you for letting me know." Mehmed said.
"No problem, my Sultan." Mehmed heard footsteps leading away from the door. Mehmed turned back to Sabriye, who remained in bed. Mehmed walked over and crouched down next to the bed. She sat up, leaning her forehead against his. Mehmed stood up and walked around the bed, lying back down.
"What to do, what to do." Said Mehmed as he lay down. "I know." Said Mehmed. He reached over to his bedside tabe and grabbed his cigarette case and his lighter. "I'll have a smoke." He flicked open the case, taking out a cigarette. He flicked the case shut, uputting it back on his table. He used the lighter to light the cigarette, before placing it back on the table. He inhaled. As he took the cigarette away from his lips, Sabriye put out her hand, as if she was gesturing for the cigarette.
"May I?" Asked Sabriye. "Not something I tend to do, I'd like to try it though." She said. Mehmed handed her the cigarette.
"Sure, go ahead." Said Mehmed. Mehmed watched her raise the cigarette to her lips and watched her inhale, but she exhaled almost immidiately, letting out a cough. Mehmed took the cigarette back from her.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"Yeah." Said Sabriye. "Smoking is not something I frequently do... I love the taste, though."
"Vanilla flavoured. Best cigarettes in all of the country." Said Mehmed, putting it back up to his lips. "Smoking may be bad for you, sure. But it gives you a feeling of... pleasure." Said Mehmed, smoke coming from his mouth as he talked.
"Mehmed." Said Sabriye, turning onto her side to face Mehmed.
"Yes" Said Mehmed, turning onto his side to face her.
"I need to ask, what are we doing here?" Mehmed looked at her, a confused look on his face.
"Pardon?" Said Mehmed.
"With... us." Said Sabriye. "I love you, Mehmed. But I need to know, do you love me too?" She asked. Mehmed ignored her.
"Okay" She said, sighing.
"We best be getting up now." Said Mehmed. "Again."
"Course." Said Sabriye. They then, got out of bed. Ready to start the day. However, steadily, tension grew between them. Mehmed was beginning to feel hatred, somewhat and regret of this new relationship.

PART 7: CONSTANTINOPLE'S SUNRISE
Mehmed awoke. He slowly sat running his right hand over his face. He looked to his right. Sabriye lay there, still asleep. Mehmed smiled to himself, thinking about the previous night. He got out of bed and put on his dressing gown, made from what would be called in our world, Ottoman silk. He sat down, picking up the case of cigarettes he had placed on his desk. He then picked up his lighter, before he walked outside, onto the balcony where they stood several hours prior. The sun was beginning to rise over the city. Mehemd placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it.
He watched the sunrise, letting the smoke once again fill his lungs as the taste of vanilla lingered over his tongue. He exhaled slowly. A cloud of smoke emerged from his lips. As he watched the sunrise, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, to see Sabriye in one of his dressing gowns. He smiled. She smiled back. "Joining me then?" Mehmed said.
"Yes" She replied walking forwards to stand next to him. One next to him, she leaned her head against his shoulder. Mehmed chuckled.
"What do you like more? The surnise or the sunset?" Mehmed asked, still admiring the sun's glow as it began to rise.
"I prefer the sunset. But the sunrise is just as beautiful." She responded, sighing. Mehmed rested his head against the top of her head, as the sun became visible over the city.
"Should we have breakfast?" Mehmed asked her, raising his head back up.
"Not yet." She responded. "Lets wait until it has risen completely." Mehmed chuckled.
"Very well." He said. Mehmed looked back up at the sunrise. He felt her arm wrap around his waist. Mehmed turned to her. "Okay. Lets go and have breakfast now? I'm getting quite hungry." Sabriye sighed. She then leaned in and kissed Mehmed on the lips. After exchanging this kiss, she stepped back.
"Now we can." Mehmed placed out his two hands and Sabriye took them both. Mehmed then rested his forehead against her own and Mehmed kissed her forehead.
"Then lets go. But first, we best get dressed." He said. Mehmed dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, before kicking it aside. They walked inside and Mehmed walked over to his closet. He put on his standard black robes with the ceremonial armour plate he loved to wear. He turned to Sabriye, who had put on a blue dress. "Ready?" Mehmed asked her. She nodded. Mehmed then approached her and put out his hand, once again and Sabriye took it.
Mehmed and Sabriye then walked to the door of the bedroom, before it was opened by Mehmed's servant. Mehmed and Sabriye then walked down the stairs to the dining hall. Mehmed, when they reached the table they were going to sit at, let go of her hand and gestured to a seat, which he had pulled up for her. She sat down and Mehmed pushed her in gently. Mehmed then walked around and sat in his own chair. A waiter then approached them and asked for their order.
Mehmed gestured to Sabriye, who asked for a healthy breakfast that the waiter could pick for her, whilst Mehmed ordered a full Lanorthan breakfast. It arrived and Mehmed had some fruit juice for a drink, whilst Sabriye had some water. They were finished around half-an-hour later. Mehmed and Sabriye stood up and exited the room, walking back up the stairs.
"Sultan?" Asked Sabriye, after she cleared he throat.
"Yes?" Responded Mehmed, inclining his head to look at her as they reached the landing.
"My father. What will he think of, of this? Or, of us, if you will?" She said, looking up at Mehmed.
"Nothing. Your father and I, we are on good terms." Said Mehmed confidently.
"Are you sure?" She asked, stopping as they stood on the landing.
"Of course." Mehmed replied. They held hands. Sabriye leaned in as she wrapped her hands around Mehmed's neck. They exchanged a long, passionate kiss. Sabriye withdrew her head, but leaned in again, as Mehmed lifted her up. She giggled as he lifted her, as they continued doing their thing. Mehmed walked towards their bedroom, shutting the door with his foot behind him.

On behalf of The Sultanate of Lanorth, her Sultan and her people, I, Çandarlı Pasha, hereby agree to the terms of the agreement.
Signed,

 

PART 7: CONSTANTINOPLE'S SUNRISE
Mehmed awoke. He slowly sat running his right hand over his face. He looked to his right. Sabriye lay there, still asleep. Mehmed smiled to himself, thinking about the previous night. He got out of bed and put on his dressing gown, made from what would be called in our world, Ottoman silk. He sat down, picking up the case of cigarettes he had placed on his desk. He then picked up his lighter, before he walked outside, onto the balcony where they stood several hours prior. The sun was beginning to rise over the city. Mehemd placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it.
He watched the sunrise, letting the smoke once again fill his lungs as the taste of vanilla lingered over his tongue. He exhaled slowly. A cloud of smoke emerged from his lips. As he watched the sunrise, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, to see Sabriye in one of his dressing gowns. He smiled. She smiled back. "Joining me then?" Mehmed said.
"Yes" She replied walking forwards to stand next to him. One next to him, she leaned her head against his shoulder. Mehmed chuckled.
"What do you like more? The surnise or the sunset?" Mehmed asked, still admiring the sun's glow as it began to rise.
"I prefer the sunset. But the sunrise is just as beautiful." She responded, sighing. Mehmed rested his head against the top of her head, as the sun became visible over the city.
"Should we have breakfast?" Mehmed asked her, raising his head back up.
"Not yet." She responded. "Lets wait until it has risen completely." Mehmed chuckled.
"Very well." He said. Mehmed looked back up at the sunrise. He felt her arm wrap around his waist. Mehmed turned to her. "Okay. Lets go and have breakfast now? I'm getting quite hungry." Sabriye sighed. She then leaned in and kissed Mehmed on the lips. After exchanging this kiss, she stepped back.
"Now we can." Mehmed placed out his two hands and Sabriye took them both. Mehmed then rested his forehead against her own and Mehmed kissed her forehead.
"Then lets go. But first, we best get dressed." He said. Mehmed dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, before kicking it aside. They walked inside and Mehmed walked over to his closet. He put on his standard black robes with the ceremonial armour plate he loved to wear. He turned to Sabriye, who had put on a blue dress. "Ready?" Mehmed asked her. She nodded. Mehmed then approached her and put out his hand, once again and Sabriye took it.
Mehmed and Sabriye then walked to the door of the bedroom, before it was opened by Mehmed's servant. Mehmed and Sabriye then walked down the stairs to the dining hall. Mehmed, when they reached the table they were going to sit at, let go of her hand and gestured to a seat, which he had pulled up for her. She sat down and Mehmed pushed her in gently. Mehmed then walked around and sat in his own chair. A waiter then approached them and asked for their order.
Mehmed gestured to Sabriye, who asked for a healthy breakfast that the waiter could pick for her, whilst Mehmed ordered a full Lanorthan breakfast. It arrived and Mehmed had some fruit juice for a drink, whilst Sabriye had some water. They were finished around half-an-hour later. Mehmed and Sabriye stood up and exited the room, walking back up the stairs.
"Sultan?" Asked Sabriye, after she cleared he throat.
"Yes?" Responded Mehmed, inclining his head to look at her as they reached the landing.
"My father. What will he think of, of this? Or, of us, if you will?" She said, looking up at Mehmed.
"Nothing. Your father and I, we are on good terms." Said Mehmed confidently.
"Are you sure?" She asked, stopping as they stood on the landing.
"Of course." Mehmed replied. They held hands. Sabriye leaned in as she wrapped her hands around Mehmed's neck. They exchanged a long, passionate kiss. Sabriye withdrew her head, but leaned in again, as Mehmed lifted her up. She giggled as he lifted her, as they continued doing their thing. Mehmed walked towards their bedroom, shutting the door with his foot behind him.

Caleraine, Lanorth
June 22nd, 1386
Four men were dining in a restaurant in Caleraine. The restaurant, called The Golden Palace, was a posh one. It served complicated and posh meals. Despite how complicated they were, they were executed spectacularly. The restaurant, however, only had six people inside of it today. Roland 'The Viper' Meddings and his brother, Bryson 'The Bull' Meddings. They were two prominent members of a crime family. Roland was the leader of the crime family and Bryson was the underboss. The other four were bodyguards.

Six men walked down the street. Dressed in black suits with white shirts and black dress ties, it was obvious who they were. The street leading up to the restaurant was unusually quiet and empty. That was because everyone knew who the Napolitano family were. And when they were around, no-one else was. Everyone was too afraid of them. They walked down the street in the middle of the road, carrying submachine guns with drum mags carrying 100 rounds. They had each had three drum mags on their persons.
They stopped in-front of the restaurant. They all spaced out, facing the restaurant. Then, they raised their submachine guns. They looked at each-other in complete silence before what seemed to be the leader of the four shouted "Lighten 'em up!" They, following these words, began spraying into the restaurant. The windows shattered as the people inside scrambled to cover. Bryson was struck four times in the back. His right lung was punctured.
The gunfire continued, as the six men stormed the restaurant. One of Roland's men attempted to stand up from his cover and fire. He was gunned down immediately, with eight shots hitting him, killing him instantly. "No!" Roland yelled over the gunfire, but no-one heard him. Roland stayed in cover, taking out his pistol. The six men stopped firing. When they did, two more men poked their heads up. They were then shot and killed. The other stood up and put his hands in the air. He was then gunned down.
"Roland Meddings. We are here for you." Said one of the six men. He had a thick, foreign accent. "Come out now and you may love. Refuse and you are dead."
"Okay, okay!" Roland stood up and walked out in-front of the men, hands in the air. One of the men approached him. They were less than a metre away. The man pressed the muzzle of his submachine gun against Roland's stomach. "Please, have mercy. I'll do anything! I'll give you money, lots of it!" The man then pulled the trigger, firing six bullets into his gut, sending him onto his back, mortally wounded. He walked over his body and fired another ten into his chest. He was now dead. Very dead.
"We're done. Lets get the hell out of here before the police show up." Said one of the man, looking at Roland's lifeless body. They left the restaurant. "This will start a war between our family and his." He then said as they were approaching their black van.
They unlocked it and clambered inside. "That was one helluva message, boys."
"That wasn't a message." The Leader chuckled. "It was a declaration of war. And we are going to win."