Parlano Cassaro

Erion is a small northwestern kingdom located on the ocean coast. Its lands are rich in rivers and fertile valleys, and its advantageous location allows it to control vital maritime trade routes. Despite its modest size, Erion remains one of the most influential states on the continent thanks to its strong navy, sophisticated diplomacy, and professional intelligence. The form of government is a hereditary monarchy. Power rests with the king, but the state is governed jointly by a Council of Lords and Daer. ​​Lords inherit their lands by blood, while the title of Daer is granted solely for outstanding service to the crown, most often in the military. The king has the final say on all matters of state. Erion society is built on the concepts of duty, honor, and personal responsibility. Education, discipline, and service to the state are highly valued. Even members of the nobility are required to have military experience or civil service. One of the crown's most important pillars is the Black Guard—a secret intelligence and counterintelligence organization that exists outside the normal laws and answers only to the king. Erions are predominantly northern in appearance: fair skin, light brown or blond hair, and gray, blue, or green eyes. Their character is reserved and rational. They rarely allow emotions to get the better of them, valuing honesty, endurance, and the ability to keep their word. While they appear cold and taciturn in conversation, they are distinguished by a deep devotion to family, friends, and their homeland. Erion's religion is closely tied to nature. The people revere the gods of the sea, fortune, forests, and ancestral spirits, but they build no temples or have an organized priesthood. Faith is perceived as a part of everyday life, not a political institution.

Dalkar is the largest state on the continent, occupying vast territories, much of which is covered by deserts and steppes. The empire unites numerous peoples and cultures, making it extremely rich and diverse. The main overland trade routes linking the north and south pass through its lands. At the head of state is the emperor, who wields virtually unlimited power. The country's vast size requires a complex bureaucratic system, so governors, officials, diplomats, and court nobility play an important role. The Empire's culture is distinguished by luxury, a love of art, beauty, and the display of status. The architecture is majestic, clothing is richly decorated, and at court, ceremony, etiquette, and the art of negotiation are of great importance. Politics is rarely conducted openly—influence, intrigue, and personal alliances are valued no less than military might. The inhabitants of Dalkar are predominantly Mediterranean in appearance: swarthy skin, dark hair, and hazel, amber, or very light eyes. Their temperament is noticeably more emotional than that of the Erions. They express their feelings openly, are easygoing, charming, and enjoy life. However, their easygoing exterior often conceals prudence, ambition, and a keen understanding of human nature. Unlike Erion, religion in the Empire is institutionalized. There are temples, priests, and official cults that are part of the state system and influence public life. The main difference between the countries Erion and the Empire are opposites in almost everything. Erion is a symbol of discipline, duty, modesty, and inner strength. Its inhabitants are accustomed to thinking first, speaking later, and acting later. They prefer straightforwardness, value professionalism, and perceive public service as the highest form of responsibility.

Empire is about grandeur, influence, diplomacy, and the art of impressing. Here, people express emotions more quickly, take risks more easily, manipulate public opinion more skillfully, and are adept at turning even ordinary conversation into a political game. Juno (Parlano Cassaro), raised as the ideal Erionite—cold, disciplined, and unassuming—becomes so deeply immersed in the Empire's culture that he begins to exist in two worlds at once. For the Erionites, he becomes too "imperial," and for the Empire's inhabitants, too perfect to be one of them.

Real name: Yuno Undercover name: Parlano Cassaro Age: 26 years Height: 168 cm Upon arriving in the Empire, he assumed a new identity—Parlano Cassaro. Under this name, he became Emperor Diego Caradhras' confidant, a diplomat, advisor, and secret agent, while simultaneously continuing to work for Erion.

Thin, sinewy, and dry. He gives the impression of a man with almost no unnecessary movements. The skin is dark, typical for residents of southern countries. His hair is black and slightly grown out. It's a casual men's haircut: long bangs fall across his face, and the hair at the back of his head covers his neck. The eyes are almost transparent—so light they seem colorless. It's their gaze that creates a feeling of constant alertness. The face is oval. The nose is straight. There is a small mole under the left eye. A thin old scar runs across the left cheekbone. There is a long earring in the right ear. His clothing reflects his position at the imperial court: long black silk tunic with gold trim; toga; golden sandals. Even among the nobility, he appears relaxed and natural. He smiles often. His smile is more disarming than any weapon.

Son of Devor, an Erionian soldier who was captured during the war. His mother, Eleanor, was a former member of the Black Guard of Erion. After her husband's disappearance, she was forced to work for the Empire as a spy. Despite this, Yuno grew up in Erion. After his father's death, he voluntarily joined the Black Guard and subsequently became one of the best counterintelligence officers, combining the work of an intelligence officer, diplomat, and analyst.

From early childhood, his father instilled in him the main principle of life: Don't love. Don't trust. Don't open your heart. Yuno grew up believing that feelings make a person vulnerable. He is a master of the art of lying. He easily changes his demeanor, speech, habits, and even personality depending on who he is portraying. Later, he receives the task of infiltrating the Empire. There, a new identity is born: Parlano Cassaro. Over time, he becomes such a valuable person to the emperor that he is able to influence the state's policies while remaining an agent of Erion. Character Yuno's main quality is the ability to wear masks. On the outside he is: charming; friendly; calm; attentive; prepossessing. Inside he is: extremely calculating; patient; cunning; careful; emotionally disciplined. He rarely speaks directly. He prefers to force his interlocutor to come to the desired conclusion on their own. Almost never raises his voice. Doesn't let emotions dictate his decisions. Easily gains trust even from very cautious people.

counterintelligence; diplomacy; intelligence work; psychological manipulation; reading people; creating legends and working undercover; strategic thinking; conducting negotiations. His main weapon is intelligence. Internal conflict Yuno has lived his entire life according to his father's commandment: not to let anyone get close. However, constantly living under other people's names gradually erases the boundaries between the real self and the created images. He no longer always understands where Parlano Cassaro ends and Yuno begins. It is this loss of his own personality that becomes his main internal test.

I. Throne Room. Arrival of the captured soldiers of Erion. The throne room was awash in gold. Sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows, tinting the white marble a warm amber hue. Incense smoked between the columns, and the air smelled of myrrh and hot sand carried by the wind from the south. Courtiers in vibrant silks stood on either side of the carpeted runner, conversing in hushed tones, as if awaiting a performance. And it began. The doors swung open. The prisoners were brought into the hall. Dirty cloaks, caked blood, hands in chains. The Erions walked in silence. Even beaten, they kept their backs straight. Parlano lazily leaned his shoulder against one of the columns next to the emperor's throne. A slight smile played on his lips, and his slender fingers thoughtfully twirled a long gold earring. “Stubborn people,” one of the courtiers said quietly. “That’s why they’re interesting,” Parlano answered just as quietly. All everyone heard was mockery. No one heard how something inside them painfully contracted. "Don't look them in the eye." He recognized the shape. Recognized the belts. Learned how to tie cloaks. One officer had an old scar above his eyebrow. "I saw him three years ago at the western outpost..." The man caught his eye. Just for a moment. And I didn't recognize it. Of course I didn't recognize him. Parlano tilted his head slightly, as if looking at the prisoner with curiosity, and then smiled even wider. This is exactly what was expected of him. The Emperor looked away.

• What do you say, Parlano? He didn't answer right away. He only walked slowly along the line of prisoners. Leisurely. Almost idle. It was like choosing a horse at the market. In fact, he did count. Injuries. Age. Who can go. Who will not survive the journey. Who can know what Erion needs? Stopping in front of the officer with the scar, Parlano smiled softly.
• This one is too proud to speak. He spoke the language of the Empire. The prisoner remained silent. "And this one..." He turned his gaze to the young soldier. "He's not afraid of death. He's afraid of letting his comrades down." The Emperor watched with interest.
• And what would you do? Parlano shrugged slightly. — I would feed them.

A chuckle ran through the room. The Emperor raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Well-fed people begin to think. Hungry people are only capable of hatred." The Emperor laughed.

• That's exactly why I like you so much. Parlano bowed his head. He smiled. And inside he repeated only one thought: "I'm sorry. None of you must recognize me."

II. The Maid In the evening the palace changed. The official solemnity disappeared. The corridors were filled with the scent of flowers, music and muffled laughter. Parlano walked leisurely along the open gallery. He noticed the girl in advance. A young servant carried a silver tray with wine. She glanced at him furtively. Then she quickly looked away. "Curious." He stopped at the balustrade, as if admiring the sunset. The girl was passing by. — Be careful. She shuddered. The tray swung dangerously. Parlano held one of the cups lightly.

• Everything is fine now. She smiled shyly.
• Sorry, sir.
• For what? She couldn't find an answer. He always noticed such pauses. It was in them that a person became real.
• What is your name?
• Lina...
• A beautiful name. He said this without his usual courtly sweetness. Calmly. As if he was stating the obvious. The girl suddenly laughed. The tension disappeared. "Eat." Now she felt free around him. Parlano never started with compliments. People don't trust beautiful words. They trust the feeling of security. While the girl was talking about her work, he said almost nothing. Asked short questions. I listened. I remembered it. Who is responsible for the wine cellars? Which doors close later than others? Which of the ministers likes to linger in the palace? She told everything herself. When the girl left, Parlano looked after her for a long time. There was still a charming smile on his face. But as soon as she disappeared around the corner... The smile disappeared. "She's kind. It's a pity..." He hated using good people. But it was the good people who trusted faster than others.

III. The Delegation of Erion The Great Council Hall was colder than the throne room. There were no gold ornaments here. Just white stone, dark wood and a long table. The empire loved to show off luxury. But she preferred to conduct negotiations where luxury did not distract from power. The doors opened. The Erion delegation entered silently. Restrained. Without unnecessary bows. No admiring glances. Parlano sat to the right of the emperor. The black tunic with gold trim stood out sharply against the white marble. He was the first to stand up. He smiled.

• Welcome to Dalkar. Flawless Erion language. Without a single southern accent. One of the ambassadors froze almost imperceptibly. "You heard. But you didn't remember. Good." The negotiations continued for several hours. The Imperials spoke beautifully. Erionians - in short. Some were trying to make an impression. Others - to achieve results. Parlano was silent almost the entire time. He watched. How an ambassador taps his fingers when he's nervous. How the advisor touches the ring every time before lying. How a young secretary tries not to look at the border map. "He's afraid." When the dispute began to reach a dead end, Parlano intervened for the first time. — Let me ask you a question. Everyone turned to face him. He spoke softly. No pressure. — If the war continues tomorrow... how many children will be left without parents on both sides of the border? There was silence. He didn't talk about territories. Didn't talk about gold. Didn't talk about victory. He took the conversation to a place where it was impossible to win an argument. The ambassadors exchanged glances. The Emperor looked closely at his advisor. Parlano withstood this gaze calmly. He already understood that the agreement would be signed. Sometimes victory is not achieved through arguments. Sometimes it's enough to make people remember in time that they are still human. And he himself, listening to their further words, caught himself in an unexpected thought: "I still say 'we' when I think of Erion. And for the first time in a long time, this inner voice sounded louder than the name by which the entire imperial court called him: Yuno.

Yuno's story begins long before his birth. His father, Devor, was an Erion soldier, a straightforward, honest man, and unconditionally devoted to his country. During one of the wars with the Empire, he was captured. For most captured soldiers, this meant long years of imprisonment or death, but Devor proved useful to the enemy. They spared him and tried to persuade him to cooperate. He refused. Yuno's mother, Eleanor, was a former member of Erion's Black Guard. She possessed all the qualities of a spy: composure, observation, and the ability to conceal her feelings. After her husband's disappearance, she was forced to make a decision that upended her entire life. To preserve the possibility of one day returning Devore and protecting her son, she agreed to work for the Empire under the guise of its own agent. Formally, she became an Imperial spy, but in reality, she continued to serve Erion's interests, balancing between the two countries and risking exposure daily. Yuno grew up in a family where the truth was never spoken out loud. He saw his parents smile at people they didn't trust, how carefully they chose their words, and how any careless action could cost them their life. For him, lying was never a sign of weakness or vice—it was a tool for survival. His father remained the most important person in his life. It was Devor who shaped his son's worldview. He didn't teach him how to handle a weapon prematurely or talk about military glory. Instead, he repeated one simple thought over and over again: never let your emotions control you. Love makes you predictable. Attachment gives the enemy leverage. Trust can always be turned against you. These words weren't philosophy, but the conclusion of a man who had survived captivity, betrayal, and years of living in constant danger.

When Devore died, these instructions became almost law for Yuno. The loss of his father finally convinced him that closeness with people inevitably ends in pain. Instead of seeking support, he chose the path of complete self-control. He voluntarily joined the Black Guard, where his natural observation skills, ability to quickly analyze people, and ability to control his emotions made him one of the best counterintelligence officers. Over time, Yuno learned not just to lie—he learned to live other people's lives. He easily changed his habits, speech, mannerisms, worldview, and even character, creating personas so convincing that those around him ceased to see the real man behind them. The most perfect of these masks was Parlano Cassaro, a diplomat and confidant of Emperor Diego Caradhras. Under this identity, Yuno managed to penetrate the very heart of the Empire and gain a position allowing him to influence its policies while remaining loyal to Erion. However, years of living under assumed names have changed him more than he's willing to admit. He's become accustomed to observing people, never allowing them to get close. Accustomed to calculating every conversation, every emotion, every smile. Sincerity has become not a natural state for him, but a role he must play no less often than anyone else. Gradually, the line between the real Yuno and the persona he created as Parlano Cassaro began to blur. His main internal conflict is no longer about choosing between two countries, but about trying to understand whether the man once raised by Devor and Eleanor still exists, or whether all that remains of him is the most successful legend—the one everyone, including himself, has come to believe.