The Bringer of Change

Fastidiously, he held on tightly to the leather straps nestled at the back of the saddle. Sword in hand, long hair flowing through the wind, the True Archon of the Republic, Alheim Cornelius, looked down upon the home that he had built. Once magnificent buildings lay scattered and ruined; blasted away by devastating aerial attacks and ships careening down from the sky. The beautiful sights of Lake Ioris, named after his old friend, were marred and set alight by fire. He breathed in deeply, steeling himself for what was to come. He leaned over the shoulder of the woman steering the wyvern that carried them aloft.
"Do you remember what it was like, Kallen? Back when the town was just a few wooden shacks on a cliff face?" he asked, memory stirring from days that seemed so distant now.
"Yeah. No electricity, no plumbing, half-dying in the winter?" She answered, a joking tone in her voice standing in stark contrast to the horrors of battle that raged around them.
"Aye, That. We did well, didn't we?" The Archon said, letting out a sigh. The red-haired woman in front of him turned, giving him a quick pat to the shoulder before swooping upwards with the Wyvern. She leveled out, and now, even higher above the city, they could see out towards the horizon, towards the setting sun.
"We did better than 'well'. We did better than anyone could have. And it'll keep getting better, right?" Kallen said with confidence.
Chuckling, and nodding his head, the Archon stroked his beard with his hand. "Most certainly. And once we rebuild here, we can begin work on that other project I told you about. Still working on the name, though."
Kallen rolled her eyes. That project was too expensive, unnecessarily ostentatious, not to mention unneeded, though she suspected the Archon knew this. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a quick yell of surprise came out as a blast of magical energy shot past them, not hitting its mark thanks to Kallens skill at her craft, and the lithe dexterity of her Wyvern. Alheim gave her a pat on the shoulder, unfastened himself from the winged steed, and leaped down from above, landing in front of their attacker. Standing tall above him, imposing in both demeanor and status, the Lux-Hadar simply made eye contact with the man, in his younger years and clad in a purple mage robe. Trembling, he raised his hand to the Tiefling, as crackling flame began to appear between his fingertips.
"Stay back!" He shouted, the words coming out in a stutter of nervousness; fear for his life. He eyed the huge black greatsword the Archon had brought down with him, then returned to look at the staring face of the man. Alheim gave him a small smile, dropping the sword to the ground.
"What is your name, son?" He asked.
"W-What?!" The other man sputtered out, hand still shaking.
"Your name. What is it? How long have you served the Republic for?"
"T-Thomas. Sir. Almost two years." The mage said, slowly lowering his hand. The Archon nodded, approaching him.
"Very good. Thomas, as Archon of this Republic, I thank you for your two years of hard work and dedication to this nation. You are dismissed from this operation. Go home to your family. You will receive a new post in three months." Cornelius ended his sentence with a mighty salute, in imitation of the hearty ones he had seen his Formis Officers give to their men. The young man, Thomas, hesitantly returned the salute, looking around, and scrambling away, quickly. The Archon raised his hand, and Kallen swooped down, picking him up with her Wyvern.
"How do you do that?" She asked, a brow raised. 
"Hm. I can't say it's anything I do consciously. The man was a loyal soldier, with a home and a life, once. He deserves to have that again. They all do. They aren't our enemies; they're victims. Like Lucien." As the False-Archons name left Alheims mouth, he could feel his hands shake. Not with fear, but with anger. For the one who had stolen his friend from him enraged him beyond all other things. He shook his head, trying not to think about it. That would come soon enough. For now, he turned his attention to the woman in front of him.
"Kallen. You've done well. You will do well." He said, voice somewhat grim.
"Thanks? What do you mean?" She questioned back. Sometimes she wondered if all that time locked up had messed with his head.
"Whether it be today, or in a few years, the day will come when I am no longer the Archon. After that, it will be your turn. You will lead our people to a better tomorrow." Alheim stated, leaving no room for argument. He voice was confident, serene, and assuring. Kallen continued to steer the Wyvern, quiet for a time. They landed atop a roof, close to Four Heroes Square. On the horizon, they could see the ground shifting and changing, as a stairway into the sky began to form, and a man clad in purple began to walk up it. Kallen turned to the man who had been her teacher, her friend, her Archon. With a smile, she gave him a nod of conviction, drawing her sword and looking up to the sky. The Wyvern took off, as it's two passengers prepared themselves for what was to come.