It came to pass several hours later, after brother and sister had been properly groomed and dressed for the occasion, the snow storm had passed, a strong southerly wind blowing up from North Africa leaving a cold cloudless sky to greet the morning; of which the priests and all the people took unto them as a sign of good, a fortunate omen. Sparta and Therakles, clothed in long purple woolen tunics, cloaked in white robes of ermine, their faces powdered with gold dust, were both quite nervous, but for different reasons altogether. Sparta doing her best to numb herself to her grief and Therakles enraptured by the ancient ceremony he, himself, had been waiting many years to behold and partake of , yet both remained silent as they were instructed not to speak, for now they were always to seem as deities, this holy sanctification ritual would serve to cross them over from a mere mortal state to that of living divine being, to be perceived in the minds of the people forever, for this was all part of the royal propaganda machine, as was held by all ruling monarchies in every and all the surrounding territories.
So forth they went together in the royal chariot sheathed in gold and silver, drawn by two pure white steeds that blessed day, being led down through the snow covered city streets surrounded by thousands of citizens who had left their warm beds to stand and cheer in the chill of the winter sun; which arose in a robe of golden splendor. Many of those who looked upon the brother and sister did so in wonderment, for the people, old enough to remember back 20 years ago, were all astonished for the pair were duplicate images of Queen Thera and King Vyakles when they would go about the city arm and arm that short time before his bride was assassinated by Odessa the notorious, and spurious, Queen of Themiscyra that fateful night. It was eerie and heartwarming to behold, for Princess Sparta had the same long copper blond hair of her mother, Thera's same bright green eyes, tall with a lean muscular build the picture of youth and vitality. Therakles was a little taller than his father but he had the same dark eyes, black hair, broad shoulders, high cheekbones, square jaw, a well sculpted body of a god and the same assured, most intense look of absolute control and satisfaction. The duo waved to their adoring subjects this being the only interaction between them, their beloved Princess looking a bit uneasy amongst such a large crowd the roar of noise deafening but Prince Therakles had a grin on his face from ear to ear, with great anticipation.
Now Sparta had been briefed on the itinerary of the morning and the stops they would make along the way, for it was the ritualistic duty of the new heir to participate in the ceremony. This required the sacrifice of a strong bull at the altars of Zeus, Hera, Artemis and Apollo, a process that took much time to travel about from temple to temple, where these animals would have their necks slashed by the new ruler with the sacred, sacrificial knife under the watchful eyes of the priests and acolytes, the flesh of the animals would be allowed to be drained of blood and served, later, for the celebratory dinner, a feast for the city, at sunset that night. It was a bloody gruesome method, but meant to show fidelity and reverence to the gods and goddesses in whom the Greeks so believed and provide a bounty of fresh meat for the citizens to eat. Here at each temple the finest bulls from the vast cattle herds were selected and brought forth for the slaughter, and so it was, by the hands of the very people who would rule over this nation, the sacrificial animals were killed the giant beast brought down, two by two, unwillingly giving up their lives upon the Ancient Altar as was the custom of the Greek religion and culture.
Within that fourth hour of morning Sparta and Therakles were at last brought to the temple of Apollo where two thrones, of Spartan construction, had been established at the base of the altar, facing towards the rising sun as the multitude of people pressed closer together tightly, trying to get nearer for a better glimpse of this most sacred portion of the event, the Coronation of a new King and Queen. The Temple Enthronement required none of the blood sacrifice to be spilled upon the altar, nor any area beside the thrones, for here lay the two Royal Crowns, identical in fashion, both in the form of hundreds of intricately made tiny oak leaves and acorns, finely crafted in pure gold, weighing some two pounds each. Here, those standing at the front of the teaming crowd, were many of some of highest ranking orders of the military elite and ruling aristocracy, among these were many close friends to the former Queen Thera. Of these, to witness this most blessed and solemn occasion, were Lucia Vega and Lacuna, whom had known Thera since childhood, now some fifty years passed since the days of their early youth, these aged warriors, whom had fought alongside the brave Thera and suffered much with her, had served as a surrogate mother to her daughter, Sparta, and son, Therakles, ever since the two had lost her at the young age of five that tragic night twenty years past. It was with great pride and delight they watched on at this glorious sight and Lacuna whispered to Lucia Vega she felt the spiritual presence of their long dead friend.
There the incantations of the Head Priest and Priestess offered up prayers of thanksgiving and supplication from the people of the city to the god Apollo, prayers and rites Sparta was little familiar with and having fewer knowledge of than her brother, who was well versed in all things religious and superstitious. As the bright light of the morning winter sun shone upon the faces of Sparta and Therakles, their soft skin glimmering with gold dust casting an ethereal glow as the people beheld in awe the spectacle as crowns were lowered down slowly upon the heads of the Royal Prince and Princess. Whereby a hushed wave of silence befell the multitude and, for a moment, all was still save for the cawing of the ravens far off in the forests of the hillside. In the stillness of this moment Sparta took in a deep breath, closing her eyes against the brightness of the sun; which left a blinding effect, as her pulse raced, the worries of the future already heavy in her mind. The day was long from being over, for next they would be led to the tomb of her mother, whereupon the priests of the Temple of Hades would unseal the sepulcher for the exhumation her mother's remains for cremation. All in preparation for her father's body to be received into the tomb, then there would the King's long funeral procession at the close of the day, before the Feast of Coronation began, to make it through. Quickly these thoughts raced through her mind as she opened her eyes the cheers and adulation's from the enormous crowd of people overwhelming her ears, and for a brief moment of time she could not hear, as her brother stood to his feet extending his hand out to her. So it came to pass, within the fifth hour of the ceremony, twin sister and brother, Officer Sparta and Captain Therakles, age 24, daughter and son of Queen Thera born of the Royal House of Themiscyra, heirs to King Vyakles born of the Royal House Laconia, were thus presented as Queen Sparta and King Therakles. No one there present were even capable of knowing, nor able to foresee, the turmoil and trouble that would soon be stirred up like a whirlwind by this new monarchy.
So forth they went together in the royal chariot sheathed in gold and silver, drawn by two pure white steeds that blessed day, being led down through the snow covered city streets surrounded by thousands of citizens who had left their warm beds to stand and cheer in the chill of the winter sun; which arose in a robe of golden splendor. Many of those who looked upon the brother and sister did so in wonderment, for the people, old enough to remember back 20 years ago, were all astonished for the pair were duplicate images of Queen Thera and King Vyakles when they would go about the city arm and arm that short time before his bride was assassinated by Odessa the notorious, and spurious, Queen of Themiscyra that fateful night. It was eerie and heartwarming to behold, for Princess Sparta had the same long copper blond hair of her mother, Thera's same bright green eyes, tall with a lean muscular build the picture of youth and vitality. Therakles was a little taller than his father but he had the same dark eyes, black hair, broad shoulders, high cheekbones, square jaw, a well sculpted body of a god and the same assured, most intense look of absolute control and satisfaction. The duo waved to their adoring subjects this being the only interaction between them, their beloved Princess looking a bit uneasy amongst such a large crowd the roar of noise deafening but Prince Therakles had a grin on his face from ear to ear, with great anticipation.
Now Sparta had been briefed on the itinerary of the morning and the stops they would make along the way, for it was the ritualistic duty of the new heir to participate in the ceremony. This required the sacrifice of a strong bull at the altars of Zeus, Hera, Artemis and Apollo, a process that took much time to travel about from temple to temple, where these animals would have their necks slashed by the new ruler with the sacred, sacrificial knife under the watchful eyes of the priests and acolytes, the flesh of the animals would be allowed to be drained of blood and served, later, for the celebratory dinner, a feast for the city, at sunset that night. It was a bloody gruesome method, but meant to show fidelity and reverence to the gods and goddesses in whom the Greeks so believed and provide a bounty of fresh meat for the citizens to eat. Here at each temple the finest bulls from the vast cattle herds were selected and brought forth for the slaughter, and so it was, by the hands of the very people who would rule over this nation, the sacrificial animals were killed the giant beast brought down, two by two, unwillingly giving up their lives upon the Ancient Altar as was the custom of the Greek religion and culture.
Within that fourth hour of morning Sparta and Therakles were at last brought to the temple of Apollo where two thrones, of Spartan construction, had been established at the base of the altar, facing towards the rising sun as the multitude of people pressed closer together tightly, trying to get nearer for a better glimpse of this most sacred portion of the event, the Coronation of a new King and Queen. The Temple Enthronement required none of the blood sacrifice to be spilled upon the altar, nor any area beside the thrones, for here lay the two Royal Crowns, identical in fashion, both in the form of hundreds of intricately made tiny oak leaves and acorns, finely crafted in pure gold, weighing some two pounds each. Here, those standing at the front of the teaming crowd, were many of some of highest ranking orders of the military elite and ruling aristocracy, among these were many close friends to the former Queen Thera. Of these, to witness this most blessed and solemn occasion, were Lucia Vega and Lacuna, whom had known Thera since childhood, now some fifty years passed since the days of their early youth, these aged warriors, whom had fought alongside the brave Thera and suffered much with her, had served as a surrogate mother to her daughter, Sparta, and son, Therakles, ever since the two had lost her at the young age of five that tragic night twenty years past. It was with great pride and delight they watched on at this glorious sight and Lacuna whispered to Lucia Vega she felt the spiritual presence of their long dead friend.
There the incantations of the Head Priest and Priestess offered up prayers of thanksgiving and supplication from the people of the city to the god Apollo, prayers and rites Sparta was little familiar with and having fewer knowledge of than her brother, who was well versed in all things religious and superstitious. As the bright light of the morning winter sun shone upon the faces of Sparta and Therakles, their soft skin glimmering with gold dust casting an ethereal glow as the people beheld in awe the spectacle as crowns were lowered down slowly upon the heads of the Royal Prince and Princess. Whereby a hushed wave of silence befell the multitude and, for a moment, all was still save for the cawing of the ravens far off in the forests of the hillside. In the stillness of this moment Sparta took in a deep breath, closing her eyes against the brightness of the sun; which left a blinding effect, as her pulse raced, the worries of the future already heavy in her mind. The day was long from being over, for next they would be led to the tomb of her mother, whereupon the priests of the Temple of Hades would unseal the sepulcher for the exhumation her mother's remains for cremation. All in preparation for her father's body to be received into the tomb, then there would the King's long funeral procession at the close of the day, before the Feast of Coronation began, to make it through. Quickly these thoughts raced through her mind as she opened her eyes the cheers and adulation's from the enormous crowd of people overwhelming her ears, and for a brief moment of time she could not hear, as her brother stood to his feet extending his hand out to her. So it came to pass, within the fifth hour of the ceremony, twin sister and brother, Officer Sparta and Captain Therakles, age 24, daughter and son of Queen Thera born of the Royal House of Themiscyra, heirs to King Vyakles born of the Royal House Laconia, were thus presented as Queen Sparta and King Therakles. No one there present were even capable of knowing, nor able to foresee, the turmoil and trouble that would soon be stirred up like a whirlwind by this new monarchy.
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