Constantine rides, a detachment of the scholae guard goes behind him, with axes, swords and shields in his hands. Behind them, priests come singing and greeting the sovereign, the voices of the procession drowning out any other sound in the street. The emperor notices your presence in the middle of the crowd that bows and waves for you to come closer.

Strange, I have never seen you here in the city. Those clothes and appearance, where do you come from, traveler? Are you a friend of the people and the empire?