User blog:DaWalkinWaffle/King of Steel: Epilogue

Gotta have an epilogue. Or perhaps a prelude...?

Three figures stood among the wreckage of the Agni palace.

"So Maxwell is dead." the female said flatly.

"Serves that coward right." one of the men said.

"Peace, Cardes. You realize she had valuable information there. It could very well be our downfall if whoever had been meddling was able to reach that information." the other man said.

"Very well. Now, how to split the land?" Cardes said.

"The land must be conquered first." Afla Dilith said.

“A minor problem.” Zevalhua said.

"Perhaps we should conquer individually. First come, first serve." Cardes said. Zevalhua scoffed.

"A human concept, that. We are above them. We will be civilized about this." she said.

"What do you propose?" Cardes asked.

"I agree we should split up. But we will divide the territories before hand." Zevalhua said.

"If so, I demand that I take Mistral. My prisoners have special connections there." Afla Dilith said.

"I agree. Cardes? Perhaps you would care to take Agni?" Zevalhua suggested.

"Of course. And you?" Cardes said.

"I will take the newly discovered areas. It should prove...interesting. Now that that bothersome King of Steel's units have rid of the giant that ruled Cordelica, I am free to...explore." Zevalhua said.

"Of course then." Cardes said.

"I wish you luck capturing the Agni refugees. They are a hardy bunch." Afla Dilith said and faded away. Zevalhua nodded and did the same. Cardes turned around.

"Zebra! Round up the troops! We will find these Agni refugees and destroy them!"

Five years after the death of Winter

The blacksmith continued to work on the sword with his hammer and tongs. After the battle in their homeland, the Agnirian people had fled in a large group, trying to stay away from the iron fist of Cardes the Malevolent. They were in constant need of weapons so forging was a profitable business. Recently, a member of the former royal family of Agni Reborn had come to him for weapons. While the official military leader of the sort of caravan had not approved, the blacksmith had a bit of a mischievous streak, at least when he was younger. He held up the saber he was forging for one of the princesses. The blade had a reddish tint, and was small, unlike a standard sword. This blade was of a ceremonial model, but the blacksmith was a particularly skilled one and had been taught ancient runes.

"Never thought I'd be using these runes that old man taught me for this." he muttered. He carefully scratched runes into the blade, enhancing it. While it was still a mortal blade, it would last far longer than any other.

"Now, what to name you? How about...Tuhnar? Thorn." the blacksmith said. The runes glowed. "Tuhnar it is then." He sheathed the newly forged saber and got to work on the next one. But Tuhnar was the special one. He had a feeling that his owner would need it. After all, who didn't trust an insane old man?