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.
The crowd became completely quiet as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, fixing his attention on Lykar, whose head was still lowered with shame. "I forgive you. You did wrong me in the past. That can never be erased, nor can the wrongs I myself have done. But you only did what you had to. We both did."
Lykar slowly looked up, their eyes locking. Rukil could see pain behind the older man's eyes. Regret at what he had done, sorrow for the wrongs he had inflicted on Rukil.
"You came here for a reason. You didn't hide from me, wallowing in your guilt. You came to me, to seek out whatever justice I might exact upon you. Only someone who truly seeks atonement would do such a thing. Rise, my friend."
His eyes widened in surprise.
"You have truly become a great man, Rukil. I can see now why they all follow you," he said, making a sweeping gesture towards the crowd. "I shall never forget what you've done here today."
He rose to his feet, and Rukil pulled him into an embrace. "I don't know where you've been, or who you've served since last we met, but you no longer serve them, Lykar." He turned to the crowd, raising his voice so they could hear him. "From this day onward, there shall be no slaves in the land of Rhun! Those of you who have been branded, those who bear the marks of servitude! You stand now as free men and women! Go now, and live the lives you have always wanted to live! Give your children, and your children's children hope! They will never again see the chains of bondage! This I swear!"
The crowd cheered as one, shaking the ground with their rejoicing. Rukil turned to mount his steed, but Lykar tugged at his sleeve.
"I may be free now... But I am using that freedom to choose to serve you, in whatever capacity you choose," he said.
Rukil smiled kindly. "Then you shall do what you've always done best, should you choose to accept. Train my soldiers. Though we have peace now, we must always remain watchful. It is in times of weakness that the darkness finds a way back into this world, and I do not intend to give it that opportunity."
"Wise words," Lykar replied. "I am happy to accept."
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Due to the massive crowd, it took nearly an hour to reach the palace, and when they did it was already surrounded by thousands upon thousands of townspeople. The soldiers were doing everything they could to keep them at bay, but everyone wanted to see their new king up close. At his approach the Khan's Guard, handpicked from the most elite of Rhun's army, knelt down before him. Horns sounded from the walls, heralding Rukil's arrival.
Several more soldiers lowered a great bronze throne at the top of the steps leading up to the palace. It was lined with jewels of every kind, and on the back of it was the Sigil of Rhun.
Rukil smiled when he saw Astrid among the entourage that was already awaiting him there. They had been betrothed several months before, and soon she would be the Queen of Rhun. At first, she had been nervous about the idea, for she had come from rather humble beginnings. To rise from a daughter of a Dalish captain to the queen of the most powerful empire in the East... It was truly a major change for her.
Also among the entourage was Taryi, who was now showing visible signs of her pregnancy. She and Hadar had been married immediately following the Battle of Dol Guldur. Their wedding had been simple and private; Only Taryi's small family and Hadar's closest friends, including Rukil, had attended. Afterward, Rukil had thought that Hadar would settle down... He definitely deserved some well-earned peace and rest. But when Rukil had been chosen to succeed the throne, Hadar insisted on being at his side.
In a way, Rukil hadn't truly been surprised. Hadar was the most loyal man he knew, and it had even become a bit of a joke between them that Hadar would most likely insist on being buried alive with Rukil in the unlikely event that he died first.
He gave Taryi a subtle smile and continued up the stairs. As he ascended, everyone knelt. He didn't ask them to; Despite his best efforts to prevent it, the people practically worshipped him. He was the hero that had sprung straight out of the pages of the legends to them, whether he liked it or not.
When he reached the throne, he turned to face them. A sea of faces watched him, and he made sure to remember as many of them as he could. They were his subjects now. Every decision he made from this moment onward would affect them.
"People of Rhun!" He exclaimed, raising his arms for silence. The crowd immediately obeyed, waiting for his next words with bated breath. He made eye contact with as many of them as he could before continuing. "You have been through much in the past. All of you have. Not one of you remained untouched by the Shadow that ruled here for so many years. But let us move beyond that time! For a new light shines upon us all! A light that will drive the darkness away forever! Let us use it to rebuild our broken land! Hang your swords over your mantles, and take up plows and rakes! Exchange your shields for blacksmith's hammers, your armor for merchant's robes! Together, we can live in peace once more, as our ancestors did in times past. Do not view me as your king. For though I lead you, we step onto the path of the future together, as one people!"
The crowd roared, throwing flowers into the air in celebration. Rukil flinched briefly, for a moment being reminded of the screams of the crowd that had demanded his blood at the Pit so long ago. He would never entirely forget.
But he forced a smile as he saw the joyful expressions on the faces of the men, women, and children before him. For now, it was enough to take his mind away from the dark place that it had begun to stray away to.
"Hail the King in the East!" A man suddenly shouted, leaping atop one of the pillars that lined the palace. Several others took up the call, and soon the entire city was echoing with the cry.
"Hail the King in the East! Hail the King in the East!" The voices of a thousand souls shouted. Rukil descended down the stairs once more, meeting the crowd at the foot of the palace. They reached out to him, desperate just to touch his tunic. One of the Royal guardsmen stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"My King, even though these people wish you no harm it would be folly to go out among them. Many of them are sick, and those that aren't may trample you in their excitement."
Rukil turned to face him, giving him a reassuring smile. "I am no greater than they. I shall walk among them, as one of them."
As he entered the crowd, they parted for him reverently, still calling out his name and reaching out to him. He stopped to speak with several of them, shaking the hands of others and embracing several more. Suddenly he felt strong hands grab him, and to his surprise, he was hoisted up above the rest of the people by several men. They set him upon their shoulders and carried him further into the crowd, as the rest of them continued to follow him. He could see adoration in the eyes of all, and for the first time in his life, he felt that he had fulfilled his purpose... And his purpose had been so simple all along.
His purpose had been to serve his people.