In the heat of a midsummer day, the sweat falling crystalline and bright before the rays of the morning light, Aru, his bones, his body, his hair flowing through the fresh air, ran beside the Lion Bearer, striding in the glory of the gods of heaven, holy and mighty.
With golden mane, and the confidence of eternal certitude, his features calm, he loved and laughed upon the sight of his companion, King Armen, gliding through the winds, blowing behind them, guiding each stride.
"You enjoy the run too much, if only you enjoyed your times of spiritual reading as you do your strides," he leapt upon a rock in lengths untold, reaching the peak of a hill to roar in praise of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, as his brothers, the seraphim in heaven, gave way to new strength to enter the Guardian Lion of King Armen and his ancestors, known yet unknown, dwelling in the heart of its young and fiery heir.
"Are these not the days we will remember, Aru, when above, we glide again across fields of grace?" he smiled.
"No, he said, I will remember your victories, your maturation, your advancement, and your love, not the cool winds of midsummer's day, nor the brilliance of a sprint of thirty cycles of the moon."
As they approached the river, across which there be no return, Armen began to slow down, for the first time in ten cycles of the moon.
"This river, too pure, contains neither dirt nor sediment, yet flows and travels forth from the city of King Tigran, the heart of this troubled nation."
"It is unusual," said Aru, confirming his discernment as he placed his tongue upon the water in thirst. "Let us drink, nonetheless, yet this be a meaningful sign of the trouble and trials of the people of this nation."
He began to swim quickly across the river, not knowing who, beholding his exposed, unarmored body, may slay he and his guiding companion.
Gazing through the open mountain range, guided on a sail upon the river, the union of the base of two mountains, the princess of King Tigran, caught sight of the Lion Bearer.
"There is our lion," she said in calm, her soul inspired by the glory of his arm, bearing a bow of bronze upon his back, the shield of his birth, and the golden sword of his father's kingdom. "We must protect him," she said to the humble captain, "As soon as he approaches the gates of the outer walls, his innards will be stolen, his spirit consumed by sorcery and bodily transfusions and transfigurations. He will not recognize his own flesh within half a single day."
"It happens to the best of us, my princess. However, ought we not to wait and see what he does?"
"He will die within a sunset and a single rising of the sun. Don't be foolish. You know what happens here."
The princess, gazing upon the loving countenance of the Lion Bearer, began to think within her breast, "How may I help him without this captain witnessing my approach?"
She contemplated his odd words of testing and of feigned levity, thinking within herself, "He seems to have crossed from worship of God into manipulation of the bodily substances."
Beholding the light of heaven striking her forehead, she was empowered with new strength as chariots of the Kingdom of Heaven sped across the skies, shouting of the betrayal of the captain of the sail.
As cute as a little girl, yet with the guardian love of a sister for Armen, she gripped the blade wrapped around her left leg, tearing it off its cloth taped tightly by her mother, and with the speed and grace of a deer, stabbed the captain to a humiliating death.
She laid hold of the sail and guiding it towards Aru, having witnessed the holy act, she, with the grit of a strong little girl, made way for Armen's passage to her nation.
Aru, seated atop a mountain looking with narrowed eyes between the gorge, nodded in approval at the young lady's ability.
"It is common blood," Aru uttered to the heavens, "Eternal thanksgiving to you, Lord Almighty, for a mighty death awaited our Armen, and now a mighty woman."