A%20White%20Messenger.jpg

 

The red ships sailed along the capital's perimeter.

Their admiral bellowed. "Tomorrow, words or war!" and tossed a body overboard to the horror of onlookers.

 

They carried him into the city; while chirurgeons plied their craft, the Mechanics alerted the maker.

 

"Who is this boy?"

“A warrior and a sky-captain. Awakened. He campaigned to burned plains and beyond. His men came back because they got sick there. He sent them back. “

 

Maker delicately pries open one eye, staring at its swirling whiteness.

"I know him. He was my blood-thane.

I'm not going to cure him! I must study him!"

________________________________________

A rough homecoming. "The orchestra of colour has nothing to do with the observed nor the observer. Things change, as they must..."

Next challenge - "Prime Mechanics"