𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝔸𝕟𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕒

Chapter Three: A Rumour in St. Petersburg

Ten years has gone by since the incident. The year is now 1926. Russia is now under communist rule. The Bolsheviks had killed Tsar Nicholas II, Tsarina Alexandra, and four of their children; Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Tsesarevich/Grand Duke Alexei.

In the white Winter wonderland of Russia's North, a large black stallion and it's lonely rider rode into the city of St. Petersburg. This place is an industrial hub of factories for the railroads, and the starting point of The Russian Revolution. The rider was none other than Braedey, who looked like he hadn't aged at all. It's like ten years had just passed by him like it was just yesterday. He rode on into town, but as he does so, he listened to the people around him, as well as reports that the Princess Anastasia might still be alive.

[OLD WOMAN] St. Petersburg is gloomy!
[YOUNG WOMAN] St. Petersburg is bleak!
[MAN] My underwear got frozen standing here all week!
[GROUP] Oh, since the revolution our lives have been so gray!
[ALL] Thank goodness for the gossip that gets us through the day! Hey!

Have you heard, there's a rumour in St. Petersburg?
Have you heard, what they're saying on the street?
[FRIGHTENED MAN] Although the Czar did not survive, one daughter may be still alive!
[GROUP] The Princess Anastasia!
[FRIGHTENED MAN] But please do not repeat!

[ALL] It's a rumour, A legend, A mystery!
Something whispered in an alleyway or through a crack!
It's a rumour, that's part of our history.
[BABUSHKA] They say her royal grandmama will pay a royal sum
[ALL] To someone who can bring the princess back!

As Braedey rode on, he stopped his horse, dismounting the animal, the two of them looking for someone who could help them. As they looked around, the black horse gave a small snort to Braedey, and he looked to see someone. He is a short and stout man with brown hair greying at the temples, a wide mouth, bushy moustache with sideburns, and a very expressive face, with small round glasses.

Braedey whistled to the man. "Excuse me. You there."

The man turned to the young brunette. "Who? Me?"

"Yes. You." Braedey nodded, walking up. "What is your name?" He asked.

"It is Vladimir, or Vlad if you wish." The man gave his name.

"Right. We need to talk about something, but not in public." Braedey said to the man, the two of them now walking through some of the stores, some selling what could be items that they're trying to sell off as items that belonged to the royal family.

[BLACK MARKETER #1] A ruble for this painting!
It's Romanov, I swear!
[BLACK MARKETER #2] Count Yusopov's pajamas!
Comrade, buy the pair!
[BLACK MARKETER #3] I got this from the palace
It's lined with real fur!
[BLACK MARKETERS] It could be worth a fortune
If it belonged to her!

Braedey lead Vlad over to a part of a nearby horse stable, where the black stallion stood nearby. Vlad took note of the horse, who seemed to like him.

"Okay, so what did you want to talk to me about?" Vlad asked to Braedey.

"Let me ask you a quick question: did you do anything of importance in your past life?" Braedey asked.

"Well, I was once a member of Russia's Imperial Court." Vlad replied with some pride in his voice.

"Great. Good thing I found you." Braedey said to Vlad. "Listen, I need your help with something, and it'll be something that will make the world stop in its tracks, and it'll be the most outrageously wild and amazing thing that I've ever come up with." He added on.