The Capital of Mambra al-Khish
Somewhere/when else
5 Years Ago
Khonsku ?Khon? Nijjar sat on the ruined steps of what had once been the Mage?s Parliament, and was now just another ruin. It had been shelled and blasted into little else but a pile of broken columns and a scatter of misshapen rock, sprinkled with countless shining points of glass. Khon took off his wide-brimmed oilskin hat and brushed the long dirty strands of black hair from his jade eyes to better view the ruins of Parliament. It was a happy sight.
Not far away, his comrades were cheering.
Victory, they cried. Freedom, they roared. Khon allowed himself to smile, but it faded quickly. The war was over, revenge had been meted out to the guilty on the tips of swords and at the end of gun barrels. All that remained of the Lord Magus himself was a pile of charred bones and the burnt outline of his shadow.
?Well hell, now what?? Khon muttered to himself and rubbed at the black whickers on his chin. War was what he?d been trained in, what he?d been told he was made for. And now?
Victory and Freedom.
Khon sighed and took out a silver flask from the inside pocket of his heavy leather duster. Spoils of war. The flask was embossed with Parliament?s crest, a serpent eating its own tail and flanked by a sword and staff, which Khon had scratched out. He toasted the smoking ruin behind him, made an obscene hand gesture at it, and took a long swig.
?MMRRRR,? something groaned beside him, the noise like a bear moaning from inside an empty trashcan, or a mournful whale singing to itself. Khon looked up at his field partner, the war golem Djau. He was a hill of scrap metal and gears, built like a ten foot tall gorilla with massive arms, broad shoulders, and a comparatively small lower torso. Steam escaped from the side of his face plate with a hiss, and the burning amber glow of his eyes tilted down in an expression of concern.
?What? You want some?? Khon asked and offered the flask.
?HHUURRRNNN,? Djau responded and sat down with a clank and a crack of the stone steps beneath him.
?It?s not that bad you old hen,? Khon said. Djau remained silent but for the constant clicking of internal gears. The war golem put his armored elbows on knobby, plated knees, and leaned his small helmeted head into his massive hands.
Below them, in the courtyard, everybody was dancing, smiling, spraying the noble?s champagne over each other. From their number new leadership would arise, better than the old regime. Khon knew there was no place for him there, or anywhere. He had done his part.
?C?mon Djau,? Khon said as he stood up. His revolver and long saber jostled on his hips as he got to his feet, both still humming in holster and scabbard from the recent killing. ?We should get going.?
?UUUUR?? Djau asked as he stood up with a rumble of suppressed steam and a grinding of armor plates.
?Hell, I don?t know,? Khon replied as he looked out over the decimated capital city. ?Just?somewhere else.?
Khon looked over his shoulder once more at the Mage?s Parliament, then pulled his hat down over his eyes and descended the steps. After a moment, Djau followed after him, rumbling and clanking in his footsteps.
Somewhere/when else
5 Years Ago
Khonsku ?Khon? Nijjar sat on the ruined steps of what had once been the Mage?s Parliament, and was now just another ruin. It had been shelled and blasted into little else but a pile of broken columns and a scatter of misshapen rock, sprinkled with countless shining points of glass. Khon took off his wide-brimmed oilskin hat and brushed the long dirty strands of black hair from his jade eyes to better view the ruins of Parliament. It was a happy sight.
Not far away, his comrades were cheering.
Victory, they cried. Freedom, they roared. Khon allowed himself to smile, but it faded quickly. The war was over, revenge had been meted out to the guilty on the tips of swords and at the end of gun barrels. All that remained of the Lord Magus himself was a pile of charred bones and the burnt outline of his shadow.
?Well hell, now what?? Khon muttered to himself and rubbed at the black whickers on his chin. War was what he?d been trained in, what he?d been told he was made for. And now?
Victory and Freedom.
Khon sighed and took out a silver flask from the inside pocket of his heavy leather duster. Spoils of war. The flask was embossed with Parliament?s crest, a serpent eating its own tail and flanked by a sword and staff, which Khon had scratched out. He toasted the smoking ruin behind him, made an obscene hand gesture at it, and took a long swig.
?MMRRRR,? something groaned beside him, the noise like a bear moaning from inside an empty trashcan, or a mournful whale singing to itself. Khon looked up at his field partner, the war golem Djau. He was a hill of scrap metal and gears, built like a ten foot tall gorilla with massive arms, broad shoulders, and a comparatively small lower torso. Steam escaped from the side of his face plate with a hiss, and the burning amber glow of his eyes tilted down in an expression of concern.
?What? You want some?? Khon asked and offered the flask.
?HHUURRRNNN,? Djau responded and sat down with a clank and a crack of the stone steps beneath him.
?It?s not that bad you old hen,? Khon said. Djau remained silent but for the constant clicking of internal gears. The war golem put his armored elbows on knobby, plated knees, and leaned his small helmeted head into his massive hands.
Below them, in the courtyard, everybody was dancing, smiling, spraying the noble?s champagne over each other. From their number new leadership would arise, better than the old regime. Khon knew there was no place for him there, or anywhere. He had done his part.
?C?mon Djau,? Khon said as he stood up. His revolver and long saber jostled on his hips as he got to his feet, both still humming in holster and scabbard from the recent killing. ?We should get going.?
?UUUUR?? Djau asked as he stood up with a rumble of suppressed steam and a grinding of armor plates.
?Hell, I don?t know,? Khon replied as he looked out over the decimated capital city. ?Just?somewhere else.?
Khon looked over his shoulder once more at the Mage?s Parliament, then pulled his hat down over his eyes and descended the steps. After a moment, Djau followed after him, rumbling and clanking in his footsteps.