Chapter 36: The King in the East

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1 Year Later, Morgothrone, Capital of Rhun

The golden spires of the city shone bright, watching over the endless sea of dunes that lie just outside. From every rooftop, colorful banners hung and fluttered in the warm breeze, adding brightness to the normally bare sandstone walls. 

In the streets below, line upon line of soldiers stood in bronze battle armor, the polished metal shining in the harsh desert sun. Drums and horns sounded throughout the city as its thousands of citizens celebrated. Their celebration was twofold: Khanar had been slain, and a new Khan, a Khan of the people, was rising to power. Standing against seemingly impossible odds, he had triumphed over the forces of Mordor in what many saw as an almost proverbial victory of light over darkness. 

Rukil sat atop a black horse, clad in the silver armor he had worn to battle over a year before and followed by his faithful warriors. His dark hair, which he had decided to let grow long as many of the Westrons did, blew free in the wind, unrestricted by scarf or helmet. As he rode down the main thoroughfare, he was met by the excited cheers of his new subjects, many of whom had quite literally been saved by him.

"The Silver Prince! The Silver Prince rides to his throne!" The crowds shouted with admiration as he passed. Many of them laid out their cloaks in front of him, while others helped to keep the street open for he and his entourage. 

"Silver Prince," Hadar whispered from his side. "Quite a title. A shame it won't apply for much longer." 

"Ah yes," Rukil replied with a wry grin. "'Khan' just doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?" 

Hadar let out a snort as he waved to the crowd. "Don't strain yourself with all of that self-praise, liege."

"Says the self-appointed General of the Army," Rukil laughed, shaking his head at his friend's antics. They had been through so much together... It seemed only fitting that Hadar would be one of his most trusted advisors in the uncertain years to come. 

Hadar rolled his eyes, and they continued down the road to the palace. Rukil's heart dropped slightly as he recognized the broad road leading to the Pit. He had traveled it once before... Though now it seemed like ages ago. He had been but a slave then. The city had seemed menacing that time, daunting and foreign to a boy who had lived in the hills of the Dorgeshi Highlands his entire life. Now, it had been presented to him as a prize; the reward for his efforts to save the people of Rhun. It was only reluctantly that he had accepted; There were no other candidates that the people would accept. 

If only his old master could see him now... 

As the thought entered his mind, he saw a familiar face among the crowd, as if his thoughts had sprung to life. 

"Rukil!" The harsh voice of his old trainer, Lykar, rose above the din of the people around him. Rukil stopped his horse, and ordered the soldiers holding the crowd back to let Lykar through. The older man, his topknot now streaked with the grey of age, immediately fell to his knees before Rukil as the crowd grew silent at the spectacle unfolding before them. 

"My king," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I know that I wronged you many times in the past. I know that I deserve nothing but death for what I've done to you. I've come here so that you might punish me for my sins." 

Rukil felt a flurry of emotions at the sight of his old trainer. He immediately remembered the times that the man had beaten him at the orders of their master, and the times that he had scolded and berated Layala, Rukil's only friend at the time and his first love. But the momentary anger passed as he also remembered the kindness that he had shown both of them before the Pit fight. 

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