October 11, 4021 12:29 [Lahab Mutajamid Desert]

Temujin coughed dryly, the ash floating in the air acting as an irritant in his lungs. He pulled a ventilator mask from his suit’s waist belt, placing it over his mouth and nose. Breathing a sigh of relief, he addressed the man standing before him. “Rahman of Levante is dead. You were unwise to ally yourself with such a king.”

“My people have known peace under my rule. Our treatise with Levante has provided us with mutual benefit for many years. If we are to perish by the side of our dear comrades and friends, so be it,” said the man, his stygian armor as dark as coal and the edge of his garb smoldering embers.

Temujin stared warily at the man’s mask, the dragon’s head made from onyx and the eyes and horns shaped from malachite. There was not a hint of anger behind his words. The man bore no ill will towards them, even after coming to know of Rahman’s demise.

“In life and in death, you will think only of your people,” Temujin remarked.

A slight chuckle escaped the lips of Baldwin of the Ashen Throne. “Am I so transparent for you to read me with such ease?”

“Good men all have the same weakness,” Temujin stated gravely.

“I wonder why it is you think that way.”

“Why do I think in what way?”

“That love for one’s people is a weakness,” Baldwin remarked.

“Don’t misunderstand me. I think it’s commendable for you to harbor such feelings for this land—your kingdom. You have a strong sense of honor. Duty-bound you may appear, but that is not a chain for you, is it? It only strengthens your connection to your subjects. Why else would they fight with such vigor and resolve?” Temujin replied.

Baldwin shook his head. “My kingdom is my people. I have little love for this land, that which we share with Levante and the island dwellers of Makarios. Wherever we—the children of Adamah—go is where our kingdom resides.”

“Why not go elsewhere then? If what you say is true, then your people needn’t fight.”

“Were it so simple, we would have left ages ago,” Baldwin sighed wistfully. “Practically speaking, where would we go? All other lands are occupied. Even if we did seek refuge, resources are dwindling everywhere. Our only options are to stay and protect our meager supply or take our chances across the ocean. You understand, don’t you? I will not have my people journey to the Western Continent, only to succumb to the unknown.”

Temujin nodded, closing his eyes. He listened to the wind blow past him, a steady gale carrying harsh sands and ashen remains.

“Then we are at an impasse,” he stated.

“It seems we are,” Baldwin replied sadly.

The two shared a moment of quiet. Where Hart was quick to denigrate his enemies, Temujin was careful in his evaluation. Had the circumstances allowed it—had they been different, perhaps their dispute could have been resolved peacefully.

The Hyena grimaced. He shook his head; mulling over the what-ifs would do nothing to allay his reservations. The situation was what it was. There was no use in worrying about outcomes out of his control. Temujin wished not to dwell on further ideas of conciliation. They would only serve to slow him down and dull his edge.

His mind went blank and he closed his heart. Pillars of black stone erupted from beneath the sands, converging on the king of Adamah.

Baldwin raised a hand, summoning ash from the sands. The black particles rose swiftly, coiling around the pillars of stone as they descended upon him. He enclosed his fist, causing the ash to tighten around the pillars and shatter them.

“Baldwin of the Ashen Throne. Your reputation precedes you,” Temujin remarked. “How does one come into such power, being of common birth?”

“I see you’ve dropped the pleasantries,” Baldwin noted.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t come here to make friends.”

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“A pity.” Baldwin raised his arm once more, shaping an ashen tsunami taller than the mobile fortresses themselves. Had the Cataclysms flown into range, they would have crashed headfirst into the black mass. For the brief period of time it existed, the wave blotted out the sun.

“Ashen Embrace: Leviathan’s Wrath!” he proclaimed, sending the wave forward.

Temujin stood his ground, cementing himself to the bedrock deep underneath the shifting sands. Black stone snaked around his arm, coiling tighter and tighter.

“Black Earth: Obsidian Drive!” he responded, striking the wave. The stone around his arm uncoiled, spinning like a drill. The immense torque tore through Baldwin’s attack, scattering ash across the barren wasteland.

“That strike…one of your soldiers did something similar to the scouting fortress Rahman sent ahead,” Baldwin observed.

“A student of mine. Although he doesn’t consider himself as such,” Temujin replied.

“Ah, the age-old problem—master and pupil don’t always see eye-to-eye. He looks up to someone else, correct?”

Temujin chuckled. “It seems we are both transparent.”

Baldwin was silent, almost contemplative. Temujin narrowed his eyes, his fingers twitching in anticipation.

“You attempted to slight me by mentioning my low-borne status, but the circumstances of my birth are known to all. Though there may have been some contention when I was first named successor to the throne, questions regarding my competency were quickly laid to rest.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Temujin acquiesced. “You showed them what you were capable of. The previous king and his court saw potential in you. They used to call you the Blessed One.”

“Blessed One, ha! That name is merely a sick joke. My ability is a reminder of that night—the night my family perished. In the end, it wasn’t the fire consuming our home that killed them…No, it was the ash itself. It suffocated them. They died slowly in agony, and there was nothing I could do. My mother—she held me in her arms, perhaps as one last comfort to me before the cold hands of Death took us all…”

Baldwin closed his fists tightly. Temujin’s gaze remained fixed on his opponent, analyzing even the most minute of movements.

“Instead, the act only delivered me nightmares—inescapable memories of her final moments. I should have perished with them that night, but it seemed Death did not care to collect my soul…” Baldwin finished, staring at his hands.

“They had to create skin grafts and grow tissue, I assume. So the genetic matter—”

“Was taken from my family. The doctors of Adamah used an experimental Levantan technology to save my life. I am grateful to the Levantans. I owe them a great debt of which I am afraid I will never be able to repay. Yet, had I known the side effects of this process, I would have rather remained a cripple.”

“Why have you told me this?” Temujin asked, bewildered.

“I’m not sure,” Baldwin answered. “Perhaps I finally found a like-minded fool to confide in.”

“That can’t be all. What do you really want from me?” Temujin stated, narrowing his eyes.

Baldwin dropped the friendly inflection in his voice, his words suddenly darkened with malice. “You fight the ashes—the memories of my people, my enemies, and my family. The only reason that you’re still alive is because there is something I’d like to ask you.”

“Ask away, this may be the only chance you’ll ever get,” Temujin said, crossing his arms. What did he want to know?

“The fires that took the lives of my family and countless others spread all across the Middle East and the Mediterranean ten years ago, creeping into parts of Dvaita as well, from what I heard,” Baldwin began.

Temujin’s face darkened as he continued.

“According to reports, there were two constants in every single area affected by these fires: the Mark of the Sun—”

“And the War Horse,” Temujin remarked, finishing Baldwin’s sentence for him.

“Do you know anything about it?” Baldwin asked, though it seemed he knew the answer already.

“I’ll tell you on your deathbed,” Temujin replied dryly.

“That’s going to be a bit of a problem as I’m not too eager to die just yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick. You’ll get your answer soon enough.”

“Unlikely,” Baldwin answered coldly.

Ash rose from the sand at Temujin’s feet, entombing him. Baldwin pointed upward, lifting the shifting sphere high into the air.

“Don’t worry, you will not suffer for too long. Ashen Embrace: Mother’s Love!”

The sphere condensed, seemingly crushing Temujin inside. Baldwin grit his teeth as he strained to close his fist. Muffled thuds could be heard coming from the sphere as its prisoner fought viciously to escape, resisting the pressure from within.

After an eternity of struggle, the king of Adamah finally closed his fist. Temujin was no more. Baldwin breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked to Orpheus, descending from his Cataclysm to meet a fair warrior, his pure white complexion and flowing hair almost blinding in the sunlight.

He thought to come to Orpheus’ aid. Though it was unlikely the Makarian warrior would fall in battle, an aura emanating from the fair-haired warrior caused Baldwin a great deal of unease. Just what exactly was it about this man that frightened him so? He had barely a moment’s time to consider the reason before his attention was diverted once more.

A stone spike breached the outer perimeter of the floating tomb Baldwin had fashioned, followed by an additional series of spikes, piercing through the prison of ash. Emerging from the destabilizing structure, his hair disheveled, Temujin careened towards Baldwin, his manic eyes burning green.

“Black Earth: Onyx Breaker!”