Warhammer Remembrance of the Eternal

Upon the sandy plains of the Land of the Dead, a lone traveler who was garbed in dark brown robes was walking across the dunes. Hardly bothered by the sands which were carried by the strong winds to which also battered against his form as the intense heat of the sun had cast it light upon the world, the traveler carried on with a steady pace.

Upon a hill not far from the traveler, a group of men wearing black _Rakh-hajib_ robes were mounted upon horses. For days now, the Scythan patrol had been watching the traveler who did not stop to rest or eat and had simply walked ever onwards in the direction of Numas. As the leader of the party of Scythans looked to his men, he ordered them to ride and the patrol kicked their horses into a full gallop.

Riding down the sandy hill, the men had pulled out their swords and bows in the event that this traveler would be hostile. As the patrol swiftly drew closer, they saw the traveler halt and stand ground as the stranger turned its hooded head to regard the Scythans. Without need to issue orders, the patrol quickly surrounded the traveler who slowly gazed around towards them.

After a few moments, the patrol halted their horses and they stood impassively around the stranger with weapons at the ready. The leader of the patrol then loudly spoke in a commanding tone.

'You near the Scarab City of Numas traveler' he said 'turn back now or we will be forced to slay you for trespassing!'

A tense moment of silence passed without any response from the traveler. As the Scythans tensed their grip upon the handles of their weapons, a long dry whispering sound emerged from the traveler.

'Leave me be… mortals…' said the traveler in their own tongue as the stranger looked up to reveal a fleshless, skeletal face.

It was one of the Undying Sovereigns! Thought the Scythans with surprise as they quickly sheathed their weapons and began to frantically apologize to the stranger who then took a quite step forwards and the patrol made way for the undead traveler. Silently watching as the traveler carried on towards the Scarab City, the Scythans turned their horses away and moved on with their own patrol.

And so the traveler walked ever onwards towards Numas which had once been the bread basket of the Blessed Lands, the city which in life had been the place of his birth. Taking another step towards the city, the traveler who had once gone by the name of Asim had stepped closer to the place where he had also died.

As he walked, he felt that there was something familiar about this particular region. He couldn't quite remember what it was, but there was something here which made him feel the echo of what he thought was pride.

* * *

'Onwards men!' shouted the commanding voice of Asim as the roars of the greenskin barbarians, the screams of the dying and the clash of steel had filled his ears. His heart pounded loudly under his chest like a drum while sweat dripped from his flesh and blood poured from his wounds.

Swinging his Khopesh to his right and severing a brute's head in half, he raised his shield and blocked an orc axe in time. Feeling the bone jarring impact, Asim swiftly countered the attack followed up with a thrust his sword towards the exposed gut of his attacker. Blood spattered his sword arm which was protected with a gilded bronze bracer, with a quick twist and a pull, his sword was followed by the ropey entrails of his slain foe.

Quickly switching towards a defensive stance and heavily breathing in the stench of sweat, blood and loosened bowels, the warrior instantly regained his wits and moved towards his goal. For hours, the battle had been driven to a standstill with neither side gaining or losing a significant deal of ground. Against the green tide, the army of Numas stood with exceptional discipline in defiance towards the foe. Cutting down another orc from the chest with his Khopesh and cleaving goblin's head in twain, Asim fought with a fury which would match that of their foe.

In an effort to break the deadlock, the leader of their army, Prince Ahnutep had led his chariots into the heart of the horde. The Prince's assault had cut down a great many of the green beasts and it seemed that victory would be theirs until one of the greenskins was suddenly wreathed in witchfire. The greenskin sorcerer unleashed a mighty bolt of energy which struck near the Prince's chariot and causing the war machine to flip over along with the horses and men.

Parrying the thrust of a goblin's spear before thrusting his right knee forward, Asim struck the goblin hard in its hateful face and he felt the satisfying crunch of cartilage. As the goblin was knocked down, the warrior stomped his right foot upon the creature's neck and he felt its neck break from the impact. In a moment, he was attacked by another goblin to which he expertly blocked its attack before cutting the greenskin down.

Already, Asim had cut his way through many of the savages to get to his fallen lord. As he fought and killed more of the beasts, he soon found to his surprise, the Prince himself was fighting alone against an overwhelming number of greenskins. With expert skill, Prince Ahnutep blocked an orc sword with a bloodied khopesh while he thrust the head of a broken spear like a dagger towards his attackers face.

Asim quickly looked around him to see that he had gotten further ahead from the rest of his regiment. Not having time to regroup and with the Prince's life on the line, the warrior sprinted towards his liege. Killing as he went, Asim took a spear in his right shoulder and the slash of a goblin sword over his left thigh.

Ignoring the pain, the warrior concentrated only upon saving the life of the Prince, even if it meant his own. Thrusting his khopesh forwards and stabbing an orc where a man's heart should be, Asim tore the weapon free and soon his path towards the Prince was clear. At a closer look, he saw the chariot was ruined with the horses having been torn apart by greenskin blades and Prince's bodyguard already dead with the poor man's head pulverized into mush.

The Prince gave a surprised look to Asim and shouted 'How in Djaf's Jowls did you even get here!?'

'I had to kill a lot of greenskins my lord!' replied Asim with exasperation as he quickly took place beside the Prince as more of the enemy were closing in on them. The first orc to get within range of their weapons was stabbed in the neck by the Prince's spear while another which attacked them from the side had its knees shorn off by Asim.

With a loud war cry and a prayer to Geheb upon the lips of both men, they fought side by side against the hordes until a ring of green corpses lay around their feet. Hearing a loud horn blowing not far from them, the two men continued to fight until the massive forms of the Ushabti cleaved their way past the greenskins, the guardians quickly formed a protective ring around their lord with Asim happening to just be inside as well.

Hearing a particularly loud roar from among the greenskin lines, the Ushabti readied their blades with at least three of them armed with bows. Emerging from the enemy lines were a group of large, dark skinned orcs equipped with heavy armor and wielding weapons which would be impossible for a normal man to properly wield. Among them was one orc who notably larger and darker of skin, clearly the enemy leader. The orc leader roared in challenge towards the Ushabti and charged forwards with twin axes while its guards followed.

'Slay that beast!' commanded the Prince as he pointed his bloodied khopesh towards the orc leader, the Ushabti obeyed and formed up into a battle line with blades at the ready.

In unison, the blades of the Ushabti rose up in upwards arcs which cleaved many of the greenskins from groin to scalp. The orc leader quickly cut down two of the Ushabti with twin sweeps of its axe, the Prince quickly went on the assault with Asim behind him. The Prince quickly thrust his spear head towards the orc leader's exposed face while his sword was aimed for the enemy leader's exposed arms.

In response, the orc thrust its head towards the Prince and with a painful crunch, it head butted the Prince. Flanking the orc leader, Asim swung his khopesh towards the back of the orc leader's knees which were covered by leather straps. As Asim's weapon connected, the orc leader roared in pain and rage as it launched a backhanded strike against the warrior.

Already having anticipated this, Asim had his shield raised and the orc's axe cleaved the top of his shield with the blade nearly cutting the warrior's from above the brow as well. The sheer force of the impact had knocked Asim back and the orc leader stomped onwards towards the warrior. Quickly getting back up with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he discarded his broken shield and wielded his sword with two hands as he charged the orc leader.

The orc seemed to laugh at Asim's intention as it clashed its weapons together before charging as well towards the warrior. As he drew closer, Asim quickly removed his left hand grip over his khopesh and he bent down to scoop up a handful of sand. As the orc took another step, Asim threw the sand into the orc's face and he leapt to his left with his shoulder landing upon the sands with a roll.

His momentum did not carry him far from the orc leader and it was fortunate that the other greenskins were occupied with the Ushabti. Regaining balance, Asim looked up to see the orc flailing about while vehemently shouted what must have been profanities in its crude tongue as it tried to get the sand out of its eyes. A sudden ululating war cry came from the throat of the Prince whose face was now bloodied as he sprinted and leapt towards the orc leader.

Soaring over the air, Prince Ahnutep impaled the orc's throat with his khopesh while his spear stabbed the beast in the right eye. Roaring with hate, the Prince pushed his weapons deeper into the beast's flesh as blood spattered against him. The orc leader's screams eventually turned into a whimper and the beast fell flat upon its back.

All around them, the greenskins were stunned at the death of their leader, the remaining Ushabti on the other hand were quick to take advantage of the situation. With the survivors forming another defensive ring around the Prince, they continued to fight the greenskins who quickly began fighting amongst themselves.

They continued to fight until the main body of the Numasi army arrived, the soldiers of the Blessed Land were shocked to find the bloody and injured but still very much alive Prince Ahnutep, Asim and four surviving Ushabti standing upon a mound of dead greenskins. The soldiers quickly ushered them behind their battle lines and were soon being escorted back to their camp.

Panting heavily the Prince looked to Asim and tiredly spoke 'You did well soldier…'

'I…' panted Asim before he was interrupted by the sudden flash of pain as he could no longer ignore his wounds, with gritted teeth he finished 'am… honored… my lord.'

'When I...' wheezed the Prince before groaning as well and continuing with a hiss as he dropped his spear and held a large wound upon his left hip which heavily bled 'oh gods that hurts.' He soon then continued with a pain expression as they limped back along with the Ushabti towards their army's camp 'When I am made king, I want you to be the first of my Personal Guard.'

Feeling deeply honored by the Prince's words Asim stopped and despite the pain, he bowed to his lord, he just didn't know what to say and so he simply spoke ' again, I am… most honored…, my lord.'

'The honor…' groaned the Prince 'is mine…'

* * *

As Ptra's light began to set in the west, Neru rose from the east and cast her gentle gaze upon the world. Now standing upon a stone road which led to the city which had been his home, Asim felt the faint expression of surprise as he found the city to be brimming with life. Situated beside what was now The Great Mortis River, large golden fields of wheat and barley surrounded the city and from distance the Tomb Herald could the many well tended gardens within the city itself.

The greatest of all surprises were the many mortals who went about their daily routines. Asim could see hundreds of men and women who were finished with tending to their crops as they carried woven baskets of grain, fruit and vegetable. So much had changed thought the Tomb Herald for during his first awakening, Numas had been nothing more than a mass grave, its people slaughtered by the evil of the Usurper.

Descending the hill with a steady pace, Asim faintly recalled something which had happened here once. It was something important he was sure of it but like many things from life, he could not quite remember it with clarity. As he tried to think, he remembered a smell, Saffron? He thought it was.

Continuing to move towards the city, Asim felt another flicker of emotion he could not quite place the name for and yet he knew it was something which had been of great importance to him. He briefly remembered a face which made him halt for a long moment before carrying on.

* * *

'Gods it is hot' muttered Prince Ahnutep with displeasure as he lolled his head back while he sat upon a palanquin of wood which was decorated with gilded scarabs and a cloth canvas which shaded the Prince.

'Indeed my lord' agreed Asim who bore the intense heat of the sun with stoicism.

The two men were accompanied by nearly two dozen honor guard and seven slaves who attended to the Prince. Four of the slaves carried the palanquin upon their shoulders while two others fanned the prince with fans made from the bright plumes of birds which extended their rather large tail feathers, in courtship. The last slave carried a gilded tray which bore a golden goblet and a silver jug of cool and watered down _Chanouri_, a sort of wine made from dates and fermented milk, a favorite of the nomadic tribes.

Standing upon one of the main trade roads leading out of Numas, they were surrounded not by dust and sand but by golden fields of wheat and barley. Several peasants diligently labored upon the fields with more than a few giving respectful bows to the Prince. Earlier, Asim had asked the Prince if they should clear the farmers out but his master had responded to leave them be for their harvest was vital to the city's trade.

For months now, a drought had been plaguing the Blessed Land. It was fortunate that the priesthood of Tahoth had foreseen this event and had relayed warnings towards the people Nehekhara. In Numas where the people had prepared well for the drought, wealth and gold had begun to flow into the city as merchants from the other realms purchased large canisters of water as well as sheaves and bushels of crops.

It was a good time for trade in Numas, perhaps most interestingly though was the latest payment which was coming in from Ka-Sabar, The City of Bronze. As part of a deal to strengthen the bonds between the Blessed Land's northernmost cities with one of the southernmost ones, the Priest King of The City of Bronze had promised his first daughter's hand in marriage towards to the heir of the Numasi throne. A deal which Prince Ahnutep's father, the Priest King of Numas, was quite eager to push through with, regardless of his son's decision in the matter.

'You don't think she will be some overgrown brute like the rest of the Ka-Sabarans don't you?' asked the Prince a bit worriedly. The way he spoke made it clear that perhaps he had drunk a bit too much. 'For all I know, my betrothed may be as burly as an orc for how could such women even birth men so large.'

'I am sure it will be nothing to worry about my lord' replied Asim while suppressing a smile 'by all accounts, the Princess is quite beautiful and a skilled warrior as well.'

'Hmph! War is man's place' replied the Prince with disdain 'perhaps in Ka-Sabar, they can't even tell the difference between sexes.' The Prince's jibe caused many of his honor guard and even some of the slaves to laugh with sycophantic humor. 'I bet' added the Prince 'that this woman has so many scars that-' the Prince's words were suddenly interrupted by a loud clarion in the distance.

'I guess we will found out soon my lord' added Asim with good humor.

With a sigh from the Prince, his lord muttered under his breath 'let's just get this over with.'

With a nod towards his master, Asim ordered the honor guard to stand at the ready and formally present themselves to their guests. Their first sight of the Ka-Sabaran dignitaries was the gleam of bronze and gold in the distance. As the dignitaries drew closer, they could see that the Ka-Sabarans were travelling on the road upon several chariots which had been fashioned with glyphs and iconography of either the winged bull or the lion, the symbols of Geheb, God of Strength and the patron deity to the City of Bronze.

Pennants and banners of several noble families could be seen upon the chariots with all sharing the common symbol of a serpentine skull. Stories had begun to spread around the Blessed Land of what people were now calling, The War of a Thousand Nights. Tales of heroism, conquest and great wealth plundered from those overgrown serpents which walked like men in the southern jungles were told.

Upon the banner of the lead chariot, there was a massive skull which resembled that of a toad's, if the stories were to be believed, it was the skull of one of the sorcerous Toad Kings which ruled over the serpentmen of the south.

'And that must be my betrothed' said Prince Ahnutep quietly as Asim kept his gaze upon the lead chariot.

The thundering hooves, the creaks of the wheels and the dust kicked up from the chariots had set Asim's nerves on edge as instinct borne from many battles had demanded that he get out of the way. Suppressing the urge to do so, he stood his ground and soon the chariots slowed down and eventually halted only a little below seven cubits away from them. As dust blew towards the Numasi party, the two groups waited for the cloud of grit to settle before conducting a formal greeting.

When the sands settled and the air cleared, the Numasi saw that the Ka-Sabaran chariots were perfectly aligned with the _maryannu_ upon them raising their swords and spears in salute. In response, the honor guard of the Prince raised their weapons in salute as well towards their guests. From the current distance, Asim could already see his master's betrothed.

Clad in armor of gold and bronze which was decorated with semi-precious stones of Lapis Lazuli and even Jade from the distant land known as Cathay, the leader of the Ka-Sabaran host descended from her gilded chariot along with several of her own personal guard. Like all the men and women of the City of Bronze, the Princess was much taller and more strongly built compared to most people within the Blessed Land, not that Asim was complaining for he could see that the Princess had a rather shapely figure as well.

The head of the Princess was covered by a protective headdress of Azure and Gold, her long black hair which flowed around the side of her head was decorated with golden bands and her face was covered by an exquisite ivory mask which depicted a serene expression.

'In the name of The Great Father Ptra' shouted Asim with courtly formality 'Lord of the Sun and Heavens, does Prince Ahnutep II, Son of Rahmosess I, Priest-King of Numas! Bid welcome to you! Honored guests of Ka-Sabar!'

Stepping ahead of the Ka-Sabaran party was a man dressed in cream colored robes and wearing an ostentatious amount of golden jewelry which looked to be of a strange and foreign design. 'In the name of Geheb, God of Earth and Giver of Strength, does Princess Tahirah, Daughter of Ihmratep III, Priest King of Ka-Sabar! Accept your welcome! Most gracious of hosts!'

The slaves which held up the Prince's palanquin gently set their master's transport to the sands, the Prince then rose up and stepped out of the shade. Asim noted the slight stagger in his master's steps and he was momentarily worried that the Prince would make himself look foolish.

The Ka-Sabaran Princess raised both of her hands up to her mask which she began to slowly remove. It took only a second for the mask itself to come off, but in that single moment; it was something that Asim would remember for the rest of his life. The stories certainly did not do enough justice for the Princess was beautiful, like a radiant diamond mined from the very earth itself.

The Princess took a step forward towards the Numasi host; Asim could not help but stare at the woman's countenance which set his own heart racing and his blood pumping. As the Princess drew closer, he could smell a lovely perfume of Saffron was emanating from the woman. Glancing quickly towards his master, Asim saw that the Prince was just as stunned as he.

Suddenly seeming to sober up, the Prince formally bowed while crossing his arms in an X shape while the Princess did the same. As the two royals rose up, Asim saw the woman glance towards him and she gave the warrior a smile. It was a smile that the Herald of the Prince would remember for as long as he lived.

* * *

Walking down the polished white stone roads of Numas, Asim saw that life truly was everywhere. Well tended trees were arranged in neat rows with flowery bushes growing under their shade. Children played in the streets, unafraid of the dangers of the night as weary mortals returned to their homes after a long day of honest labor.

The mortals looked towards Asim with curiosity, reverence or suspicion; the living guards at the gates had pointed their weapons towards him and had sought to deny him passage. It was with a simple glance of his empty eyes and fleshless face did the guardsmen quickly lower their weapons and allowed the undead warrior to pass.

This was his home, where his father, mother and brother had lived. This was his home, where he had grown disciplined and strong. This was his home where he had formally sworn to defend his master and mistress in life and beyond. This was his home which had all he ever wanted.

And yet now, he had nothing. His Master had met the true death against the Infernal Kings and their hellish weapons. His Mistress of whom he had deeply cared for in life was now gone, spirited away by the foul followers of _Isfet_, Chaos. He knew not if his Mistress still remained within their world for he could no longer feel her presence.

The pyramid which had been built to eternally house his Liege and Lady was now taken by an upstart Prince of this city who carried the official decree of Tutankhanut, the current Priest King of Numas. The Legions which had once served his Master and Mistress were now bound to this Prince not only by the decree of Tutankanut, but also most severely, with the approval of The Imperishable himself.

Since Asim was a Tomb Herald, his oath of duty extended exclusively towards his now forever gone Master and a Mistress who held an unknown fate. Now he had nothing, he had no King and no Queen, he had failed his oath and would exist for eternity with disgrace for if he were still alive, he would have been expected to have slit his own throat or drink poisoned wine. In his current undead state, suicide was… problematic to say the least for among the Tomb Kings, death was hardly the end of one's duty.

As he wandered the streets Asim felt flickers of memories pass through his mind. He easily navigated the roads and alleys for much of the architecture and design had remained the same as it did in his life. Finally, the Tomb Herald came upon a simple, square shaped hut made from mud bricks, through the windows; he could see lights which signified that the home was currently occupied.

It was his home, or at the least where it had once stood. From the main doorway, a robed mortal woman wearing the common scarf and dress used by not only the women-folk of the nomads but also the same kind used by the mortals of the realm now called Araby. For a brief moment, Asim had envisioned the face of his own mother who would wait for both he and his brother after they played together with the other children.

The moment had then disappeared as he heard the patter of sandaled feet upon the ground and the joyous calls of two boy children who ran passed the Tomb Herald. The boys embraced their mother who held their heads closely to the hem of her robes. The woman then looked up to Asim with a pleading look in her face and the Tomb Herald knew that he should leave.

Turning away from the place which had once been his home, Asim quietly walked on through the darkened streets as Neru now cast her full gaze upon the world.

* * *

'Father would be proud of you' proclaimed Ureh as he slapped his right hand over Asim's left shoulder. 'You are the King's Herald!' he said with pride.

Both men were clad in sleeveless cotton robes of white, they were standing in a simple hut of brick, wood and plaster which was furnished with many bare necessities. To Asim's right, an old woman of whom was the mother of both men was now looking upon her youngest son with as much pride as her eldest son.

'Herald to be' clarified Asim towards his older brother who was a smith. 'I am to be given a dozen slaves' he added 'but I hardly think that I have need of that many, I will be sure to send a few to attend to you and Mother.'

'I doubt Masika would be happy' replied Ureh as he referred to his wife 'she is very particular about keeping our home in order and would be outraged by the idea of a slave doing her work, I suppose I could use some help with the forge though.'

'I suppose you would be happy to have the help around the house then, mother?' asked Asim as he turned his attention towards the woman.

'I don't think that I will have need of one my son' said his mother as she slowly stood up. 'I will be moving in with Ureh and Masika, and helping them raise little Sahid.' She then added as she referred to Ureh's young son.

A sad silence soon fell upon the family with only the soft crackles from the fire by the hearth. Because of his newly appointed position as Herald to the King, Asim would be eternally bound to his master, in this life and the next. There was a very good probability that despite residing within the same city, Asim would never have the chance to see or visit his family again.

As much as it pained him, the Herald to be knew that it was one of the greatest honors for a man of his common birth to rise so high in the hierarchy of the Blessed Lands. He would become not only the bodyguard but also the champion, envoy and harbinger of his master. He would become the living embodiment of his lord's will made manifest.

'Before you leave brother' said Ureh as he broke the sombre silence.

The smith then went towards the dining table where he had set something wrapped in cloth and bound with rope. Removing the bindings around the cloth, Ureh then pulled away the cloth to reveal a heavy gilded Khopesh of exquisite craftsmanship. Offering the blade to Asim, the Herald to be took the blade with reverence and he marveled at its deceptive balance.

'It is my best work' said the smith with a smile 'I think that I shall make no blade that would come close to matching that one.'

'Does it have a name?' asked Asim as he held the golden blade up which caught the light of the hearth.

'That will be up you brother' Ureh replied.

Staring at the sword for a moment, Asim then quickly knew what to name it. Raising the blade up in salute, he then spoke with gravitas 'I shall then call this blade, Amam the Devourer…'

* * *

Knowing that the Palace would be off-limits for one such as he, Asim walked around the city without a real destination in mind. He had come to Numas hoping that the city which had once been the place of his birth, the place where he had found his calling as a warrior would in some way, give him purpose once more.

Now as he walked down streets which he only barely recognized, the faces of people who were different from his own in life, Asim felt as if he were in a foreign land. Further wandering aimlessly around, he came upon a garden where many flowers grew around his feet and many fruit bearing trees had obscured much of Neru's light. There was nothing for him here, only an emptiness which would remain as long as his Lord and Lady were gone.

The epiphany hit Asim like a hammer; he fell upon his knees which were still covered by his gilded greaves. In the end, where there was only darkness, he had nothing except for shame and regret. For many long hours he knelt there in his despair, if he still had eyes or even tear ducts, he would have wept a river. He wanted to draw his sword and end it now, but he knew quite well that such a thing would be useless for he would simply be revived by the Liche Priests.

And so he remained there until Neru bid farewell to the world and Ptra began to rise in the east. Asim lay there amidst the garden of flowers, trees, bushes and leaves, a dead spot in the sea of life.

'Is something wrong noble one?' asked a high pitched and curious voice of a mortal which came from behind the Tomb Herald.

Turning his head around, Asim saw a curly haired girl-child dressed in a nomad's garb. The child's eyes were as green as if he were looking at a pair of malachites, in her little hands; she carried a wicker basket with flowers within it.

'Leave me be mortal…' whispered Asim.

Looking at the Tomb Herald with curiosity, the child took a step forwards the warrior wondered if she was mad or had a death wish.

'Are you here because you are sad?' the child asked innocently.

For a moment, Asim remembered the face of his nephew, Sahid who had eyes like that of this little girl. The child then reached into her basket and handed the Tomb Herald a flower with six petals, three red filaments and three yellow anthers, Saffron he realized.

Slowly raising his skeletal right hand, Asim gently plucked the flower from the child's grasp. Bringing it closer to his face, he studied the plant in silence.

'I like this garden' the child then said cheerfully 'it smells nice and it make me feel happy just to be here' she added.

Looking to the child with curiosity of his own, Asim could not help but ask 'Why do you not fear me… child?'

'Da says that the Sovereigns are our friends and guardians' the girl said 'if we clean and protect the city, the Sovereigns protect us too'

'And where is your father now... child?' asked Asim.

'He protects us now as well' the child said with a smile 'he protects us now, forever and ever.'

'Has he become… like me?' asked the Tomb Herald again and the child simply nod.

'I miss him' admitted the child sadly as she looked down towards the grassy ground 'but I know that when my time comes, we will be reunited again in the next life.'

The child's expression seemed to brighten as she finished that last part. Asim then heard the voice of another child and the little girl quickly turned towards the direction of the voice. She then looked to Asim and gave him a gap toothed smile before running off towards the voice of other children.

Left alone once more, Asim then looked to the flower which was still grasped in his hand. Gazing towards its petals for a long time in a trance-like state he finally remembered the name of that feeling when he had first met his Queen.


End file.
