I do not wait for her to even raise the vicious-looking single-bded ax, made precisely for quick executions, before stopping this. Considering her might and desire to give the blink-fast kiss of death, to do it quickly and painlessly, I have no time for hesitation.
''Enough has died today.'' The eyes of hundreds of my creations are on me and they make room as I approach the stage. The wooden stairs grunt, protesting my stride.
Menacing eyes, a small nose, and oversized bottom teeth; humankind would see him as a wild beast, a monster to be dispatched with no remorse. I see the beauty in all my creations—their life is my life. I look at the ogre and see a tiny part of myself.
Over centuries, to my boundless joy, my crystalborn have become too numerous to count, and even without my work, it would be impossible to know them all well, as much as I wish it so. Even though their numbers are vast—more than the popution of a dozen rge human cities combined—it is still only a fraction of the numbers mankind possessed before their fall.
''What is your name?'' I ask.
The ogre diverts his gaze. ''Brontes...Maker.''
''Brontes you are dismissed from the army and forbidden to rejoin for the next twenty springs.'' I look at the two guards near us. ''Remove his chains.'' To my often great annoyance, I'm seldom questioned and obeyed without pause, not unlike emperors of old. This is why their moments of hesitation are so unusual. After looking at Kali for a few breaths they unchain Brontes.
Kali's jaw tightens. Her height is matching mine and yet her presence is that of the beast we've slew today. Her gaze never left my face. ''You will encourage future cowardice,'' she whispers and then drops the heavy ax, which cmorous across the boards sending rumbling pulses through my chest.
''It is easy to destroy hard---''
She abruptly decides to leave. Her face is repced with slicked-back hair that ends at a level slightly above her hips. Kindred are making wide enough space for Brontes himself to walk through. Dabbler would foolishly see fear in those around her but it is reverence. More than a few bow their heads slightly as she walks by.
Suddenly I become slightly envious of that tyrannous power that the now centuries-dead emperors had.
