Large hands had long ago carved a stone plateau into the side of Thunder Mountain, displaying a craftsmanship that no human could ever match. The ground was smooth and shiny, and the low perimeter wall merged seamlessly with the jagged grey mountain rock beneath it. The wall had been meticulously carved, decorated with depictions of historic events that spanned thousands of years.
Druro stood facing the unforgiving mountain, ignoring the icy rain that fell from heavy black clouds above. The rain didn't bother him. The sharp winds swept around him, having no effect at all, but the old man standing before him stirred up more memories than he cared to remember. His features were more than familiar - like looking into a mirror - and his slight physique was identical to Druro's because in many ways they were one and the same. He wore a loose grey suit made of thin cloth that fit well across his narrow shoulders. The cloth wasn't wet like it should have been.
Druro had accepted the name that Rachel and the others had taken to calling him because it was a simple name that attracted little attention, and because it was a label that applied to him as well as others of his kind. Druro meant guardian in the language of the Kings. They were the protectors of the lords. But Druro wasn't his real name. It was what he was rather than who he was. His real name was Ranno Hon-Erran.
'You lost your charge,' his mirror image said in a crisp, clear voice that cut through the wind like a knife.
Anyone else might have mistaken him for the old man that he appeared to be, but Ranno knew exactly who he was. He was Rolus Hon-Rawker. They were both guardians, nanomachines capable of untold violence and destruction. They had been made like many other druros to protect rather than conquer.
Ranno hesitated, his jaw working through unfamiliar motions as he prepared for what he wanted to say, but Rolus didn't wait for his reply.
'You have come to prove your worthiness for another.'
'No. I have not.'
His twin stared back with a familiar puzzled expression. 'Then why did you come, Ranno Hon-Erran?'
'I was chosen by a sky lord.'
Rolus threw back his head, releasing a deep, hearty laugh that travelled far into the clouds. 'Have you lost your mind?!'
'I have not.'
'Lord Hades is dead.'
'I know that.'
'Then you must suffer your penance like those who failed before you.'
Rolus jerked his head to one side, glancing over his shoulder as a deep crack opened up in the mountain rock behind him. A torrent of old men flowed out from the crack like a swarm of angry insects, spewing onto the plateau. They fanned out around Ranno, watching him with unblinking eyes. Their identical features tormented him as they came closer, whispering curses with crooked smiles. He could hear their thoughts humming with a resonance that was difficult to ignore.
'Have you considered your actions?' Rolus said, standing amongst them.
'I have.'
'Then you have sealed your fate.'
'Perhaps.'
'Do you doubt my word on this?' Rolus stepped forwards, his pale blue eyes dilating as his nostrils flared.
'No, but I must speak with Kuerolong. That's why I'm here.'
Rolus folded his arms across his narrow chest as the others gathered behind him, placing their hands on their hips in identical poses. 'No druro can ask for an audience.'
Ranno nodded. 'Nevertheless I have come to ask.'
Thunder boomed overhead as icy rain ran down Ranno's forehead, dripping into his eyes. Blinking slowly, he thrust his palm into Rolus' jaw, his forearm passing straight through the old man's head as it shattered like a crashing wave, releasing a spray of golden embers. Rolus withdrew, his head regrowing from the exposed grey flesh of his neck as new eyes appeared, rolling from side to side and expanding to resume their normal size.
'I must pass,' Ranno said.
The others shuffled back with matching smiles until their heals hit the mountain rock behind them. Sagging back against the dark, wet stone, their limbs became loose and their skin turned grey as their bodies hardened and split, becoming part of the rock that they rested on.
Rolus faded, his body turning to mist that dispersed as it fell to the ground. They had returned to the mountain, leaving Ranno alone on the plateau.
He couldn't enter without them. He stood for a time, staring up at the silhouette of Kuerolong's tower far above him, its shape almost lost amongst the slopes of the mountainside, but he knew it was foolish to ascend unbidden. Black clouds circled around it, blocking out the daylight with unnatural formations, revealing the agitation of the other druros.
Ranno squatted down on the balls of his feet, ignoring the energy that resonated all around him as he waited patiently for an audience with the King. The wind picked up and the rain dashed against his face like a whip, but time meant nothing to him. He could wait for an hour or a thousand years if he had to.
A few hours later, a small split appeared in the mountain rock in front of him, revealing a narrow opening with a set of steep black steps inside. It was as close to an invitation as he would ever receive. Darting through the narrow opening, he made his way up the black rock stairs inside.