Nightfall

(Winter, 1687th year of the Drayce rule)

Hills of Jaya watched the Nagas fall. Their snow capped tops untouched by the fires ravishing the kingdom of intellect that had seen eons of nothing but peace, the hills stood in petrified silence - the old gods asleep inside their rocky adobe. Their women and children were still tucked into the dungeons at the core of the city. Cuddled into a false sense of safety; the news of their fallen forces and perished kin was yet to reach their ears. The ancestors said Kaldwara was watched over by the gods of Jaya, that the gates of time which gave the name to the city were impenetrable. That the gates never opened to an enemy.

"The gods were asleep tonight." Mohan thought as his eyes swept over the smoky hills in distance, wrapped in mist and set against the dawn purples of the sky. "Their vision was fogged."

His chains clanked as the rowdy soldiers pulled at the line of chained prisoners, tugging them forward in a forceful movement. The nearest man, with bulky arms and a ghost of a scar across his jaw met his eye in a silent challenge to complain. But Mohan knew better than to cater to the wishes of a war - thirsty Vajra. Instead he looked straight ahead and continued to walk, ignoring the condescending chuckle that escaped the man's lips.

His wrists burned against the metal forged by the fires of Vajra. It fed on his magic, withholding him from using it against his captors. Each time the Scarred - Jaw got into his nerves, the burning pricked anew. Mohan imagined the man enjoyed railing him up just to watch him flinching in pain. It was no secret that there was no love lost between Vajras and Nagas.

The camp of Vajras loomed in the horizon, gray against the brightening sky. Fires from the night before dying out unattended as guards patrolled across the entrance. They stopped and parted, watching the line of prisoners walk past, dark looks and condemning whispers trailing after them.

Aryaman watched them arrive, standing at the mouth of his tent. The black and gold flag of Vajras flapping proudly in the air above. He noted each cut and bruise made on the pale skins of the prisoners with a satisfied curl to his lips.

"The south mines could do with more slaves," he thought in the passing. "Not that the studious weaklings were any good at hard labour." His brows frowned at the dark thought. "Still they could improve with a good whipping once in a while."

"Kneel and pay obedience to the General!" Scarred - Jaw, bellowed from behind, yanking at the chains. A few Nagas - the most battered of the lot - collapsed to their knees, while Aryaman watched with a haughty half smile. His eyes swept over the kneeling men to the man who was still standing and stopped at a familiar pair of purplish black eyes.

"Aha -" Aryaman whispered. "The wazir in chains - what a delight!"

"Then I take it you are an easy man to entertain..." Mohan replied, despite the metal rings burning into his wrists, his lips curled into a smirk.

"I doubt it -" Aryaman tilted his head, a hand unconsciously reaching for the sword strapped to his belt. "Taming you however would prove a worthy entertainment."

Mohan chuckled, rolling his eyes. Aryaman's jaw tightened.

"Make this man KNEEL!" He roared, the earlier playfulness long forgotten. "I will brand him a slave myself."

He reached over to the the dying flames at the entrance of the tent and they roared back into a ranging fire. Scarred - Jaw jumped into action at his command hitting the back of Mohan's knee with the hilt of his sword. Mohan groaned, falling over and the Scarred - Jaw's blade now rested at the base of his throat. Aryaman strode over, eyes gleaming in malice and fingers clutched around the leather grip of a red hot iron poker.

"The entertainment is just beginning..."

His words hissed in excitement were lost in the cries of victory abounding the camp. Hooves thundered against the ground and Aryaman's smile dimmed.

Tendrils of mist wrapped the riders in their folds obscuring their faces. The flag bearers leaped in first, the black and gold flying across the sparkling sunshine. The soldiers filled out in welcome, cheering the returning battle heroes. Mohan - still kneeling had suddenly gone completely still.

The first group of riders entered the camp with cries of celebration, hands they waved tainted with dried blood. They pulled to a stop and parted, highlighting the man who followed them. A man riding a glistening black stallion, galloped inside.

The mist parted and the air stilled. The soldiers sank to their knees, hands clasped around the hilts of their swords and heads bowed in deference. He dismounted in a flash of an elegant movement eyes trained on the scene far beyond the kneeling men. He was a lean and athletic man unlike his heavily built soldiers, his color fairer than a Vajra but a tone darker for a Naga. His lips were pressed in disdain and brows knitted as his olive eyes burned. He stood in front of Aryaman for one tantalizing movement measuring the man up before reaching out and grabbing the sword strapped to Aryaman's waist.

There was a sharp cry of metal as the blade was pulled out and the men surrounding paled a little. Casually, he drew his thumb across the blade drawing a hairline of blood. The silver of the blade flashed in his eyes as he looked at Aryaman.

"Sharp." He said. "Unlike your reflexes - or should I say manners, General?"

"Bow to your prince!" A man in black who had stepped out behind the newcomer ordered coldly.

"No Agni -" the prince waved a hand, a dark look marring his pleasant features. "I suddenly find myself fancying a show of obedience."

Aryaman's face twisted into an ugly fury and his eyes rimmed with a reddish shimmer.

"You cannot make me kneel Adhir," he fought over the control of his tone, but ended up sounding reproachful nevertheless. "I am your uncle."

"And I am your prince, the man who brought down the gates of time that you so reverently pronounced impenetrable. The last heir to your throne and your future king. You will address me as 'your highness' or 'my lord'." the timber of his voice burned with suppressed fury.

"The kin to the throne kneels to none except the king himself, my lord," Aryaman's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Do we share blood General?"

"Your pledged mother, the queen regent is my sister -"

"Do we share blood?"

"No - my lord," he added the last word after a beat.

"Then you are no kin to the throne anymore. Kaldwara fall before your eyes... the vow is fulfilled." Aryaman opened his mouth to retort but the prince had stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. "As things stand - do you need reminding that throne is essentially mine?"

The two men locked eyes as the prince forced Aryaman's blade back into its scabbard and stood straighter, slightly towering over the older man.

"The kingmaker kneels to none - not even the king himself," he pronounced then. "No man here could make Mohan kneel."

"So that is what this is?" Aryaman called out, loud enough for the entire camp to hear. "The half Naga prince sympathizing with his old Naga master?" At his words full of contempt Agni drew his blade.

"Do you dare -"

The prince silenced him again, with a lazy hand gesture. His eyes remained locked with Aryaman. A darkness swirled within his olive orbs, the same aura cling to him then. It was no longer fury or even hatred but something more potent and venomous.

"He is my father's kingmaker and a trusted ally. You will show him due respect."

"Do not try to sway me with sweet talk, your highness - I taught you better politics." The calm voice that interrupted them belonged to Mohan. He watched the prince with cold indifference unlike the disdain he showed to Aryaman.

The prince's face split into a cold grin, a half smirk. It did not make him look pleasant but rather menacing.

"Of cause you did. You taught me enough to know that there is no need to sweet talk you into anything anymore, Mohan. Your power fell with your people. The gates of time no longer stands between us. I shall find her soon."

"Until you bring her back - make her kneel at the queen's feet the vow is incomplete." Aryaman reminded coldly, seizing his opportunity.

"Oh you keep forgetting General - your years are finally catching up. They were your own words weren't they? Kin to throne kneels to none."

**