Winston and the rest of the herd had made it from the battle site to the cabin in less than a day and it left me with plenty of time to heal, and to think. That old man had taken me apart like an infant, toying with me the entire time. Even more disturbing were the things he had said. I was never a history buff growing up; but I, and every other person on Earth, had heard of the “Great Khan”. A person that had killed millions of people on Earth and was still heralded as one of the greatest rulers of all time. A dozen pieces of the puzzle had finally clicked into place in my head and I could have kicked myself for being so stupid.

I was in the barn, tending to the animals, when I heard the front door open and then close. I hurriedly finished up and made my way into the house. Winston had dropped me off almost three full days before the appointed rendezvous time, and I had almost the entire cabin packed up by the time Temüjin made it back. All the knickknacks in the front room were bundled. The weapons were sorted and packed to be carried easily. Anything that wasn’t easily portable had been draped with cloth to keep the dust off. In fact, the only things that weren’t packed or prepped for transportation were two chairs. Temüjin and I were overdue for a chat.

He was standing in the front room, looking worn and weary, when I entered.

“Did they send another contingent?” he asked, without turning around.

“Yes,” I replied, “they did. We need to have a talk.”

He grunted his assent and took his normal chair. “Talk away,” he said.

“Does the name Genghis Khan mean anything to you?” I asked. I’d gone over the conversation in my head a dozen times and just couldn’t think of an easier way to start my inquiry.

“Chinggis,” he said, dully, “it’s pronounced Chinggis. He’s dead. He died six hundred years ago.”

“Funny, that’s about the time you said you moved into the valley. What killed him?” I asked.

“He realized that conquering simply for the sake of conquering was just repeating his mistakes from another life. It was that realization that killed the Great Khan for good.” He replied.

“What about his last student? The one before me? What happened?” I asked.

“How do you know about that?” He asked. His voice was almost mechanical, as if he couldn’t bear to add any emotion to the question.

“One of the nice Imperial soldiers told me he had taken a student before me, right before he broke half of my bones and beat Shunakhai senseless. What happened?” I asked again.

“The two of them had a disagreement,” he said, “and it led directly to m-, to Chinggis, leaving the Empire. The student was adamant that war for simply for the sake of expansion was an evil thing. That fighting for territory was a pointless enterprise. He thought that our powers should be used to elevate people, keep them safe. He was right, and the Great Khan realized it only after he had left.”

“The other student was a Jumpspark?” I asked.

“Yes, he was. Is. I’m not sure if he’s still alive or not,” was his answer.

We sat in silence for a few minutes listening to the stream outside and the birds in the trees, before he continued his story.

“I didn’t know what else to do when I got here. So, I just did what I had done during my first life. I took command of a band of troops and used them to start conquering. Within three decades, I had half of a continent under my control. I had all the power and respect that I had previously commanded. I had a harem of beautiful women, all the vitality of a twenty-year old, and enough gold to gild a city. Life was perfect as the Great Khan. Togail approached me one night and asked me to mentor a new spark. Of course, I said yes. I introduced them to my court and began to train them. Togail, though, isn’t a martial choice for a Jumpspark. At least not directly. With our choices we can bring martial power to bear with our boons. You cultivate faster than anybody I’ve ever heard of; and you won’t slow down at higher ranks. I can raise and empower an army with almost no effort.”

“The power of Togail is the power of invention. Crafting, skills, construction. He’d taken Inspiration from Zeoni as well. The buildings he designed, the art he made, were all sublime. He made a flying machine that could zip through the skies and a boat that could sink beneath the waves. But I wanted more. I wanted to arm the flying machine and use the boat to destroy navies. But he resisted. He was insistent that using our powers for destruction was a perversion of the opportunity we had been handed. When he wouldn’t make war machines to continue the expansion efforts we quarreled. Then he left.” He trailed off.

“So, what prompted the Great Khan to have a change of heart?” I probed.

“There was a border war between the forces of another nation and the Empire. We had pushed into their territory and a great camp of refugees was caught between the two armies. The enemy commander requested time to evacuate them before the armies fought. They were his people. Elderly, sick, injured, women, and children. He didn’t want them to fight, he just wanted them to be safe. Instead of allowing it the Imperial forces slaughtered them before breaking the enemy army. It was a whole field of people, mowed down like wheat. I was meeting with an ambassador from another kingdom and was not aware of his request, or I would have granted it. Instead the commander of the right flank took it upon himself to “dispense the Khan’s justice”. They never had a chance to resist. That was the day I knew I was wrong. That’s the day the Great Khan died,” he finished.

“Why not just change the Empire?” I asked.

“I wish it was that simple,” he answered, “If I had kept myself as the Khan and introduced a policy by which the Empire was to cease expansion it would have pushed the Empire into civil war, which would have fractured it and caused uncountable deaths. So, I abdicated and very quietly informed the most powerful members of my court that they could have the power they already held, but if they reached for more I’d be back. The power vacuum from my departure kept the families scrabbling for any scraps of power they could hold. That, along with the knowledge that the first bloc to step out of line would face all the rest, and me along with them helped to maintain the status quo. The heads of those families were wise enough, at least until recently, to not push me further.”

“What are you going to do about it?” I asked.

“Take up arms again, I suppose,” he replied, “I’d prefer not to, but they haven’t left me much choice.”

Silence descended on the room again. It was obviously still a sore subject, even hundreds of years later. It was broken only when Shunakhai, who had been fishing in the stream, bounced into the room and shook herself off. Satisfied that she had properly gotten both of us wet she gave a snort and walked into the kitchen.

“We’d better fix something for dinner before she starts tearing apart the kitchen,” Temüjin said.

I sighed, “Yeah, but I already packed up everything in there.”

“And you honestly think she’ll accept that as an excuse?” he said as he got up from his chair and started moving toward the kitchen.

“Nope, I just wasn’t looking forward to unpacking and then repacking everything to appease the bottomless pit.” I answered.

Dinner was a mostly quiet affair. Neither Temüjin, I still couldn’t think of him as the Genghis Khan, nor myself seemed to have much of an appetite. Shunakhai hoovered up the food with gusto, though, and was more than happy to dispose of the leftovers. Afterward we dragged the chairs out to the porch and settled in. Temüjin lit his pipe and, after taking a puff, passed it over to me. I accepted wordlessly and took a puff myself. The smoke was cool and minty as I inhaled.

“Where do I go from here?” I asked.

“You’re strong enough now to travel on your own. Go anywhere you want. You could find another secluded valley and found a sect. Perhaps start a new life as a beast tamer in one of the cities in the Empire. You could explore ancient ruins and live the life of an explorer or become a ship captain and sail around the islands far to the south. It’s your choice,” he answered.

“Should I stay with you? Help the villagers? It seems cruel for me to just…run away after what they did here,” I said.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head, “the second the Empire finds out that I took another apprentice they’ll start to hunt you. They may not know exactly what a Jumpspark is, but they’re well aware that my students tend to be far more powerful than their cultivation rank would imply. I’d try to protect you, but I’d fail against the massed might of the Empire. Staying with me is the exact opposite of what you should do right now.”

“So, it’s ok for you to commit suicide by taking on your former Empire but I have to run away and hide?” I asked him.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, “I built the Empire to last a thousand years. It’s up to me to destroy it.”

“Why?” I asked, “Why fight them at all? You said yourself there are other places to go. You can load up any of the villagers that want to flee and lead them there. They poked the bear and got their nose bloodied for it. The unicorns are safe and heading away from here. Do you actually think the Empire is going to hunt you down or something? If they have half a brain they’re trying to avoid that.”

Temüjin furrowed his forehead in thought, “I hadn’t thought of it like that. I honestly don’t know if they would try to track me down again. I just feel a responsibility to the people of Gladewood. They trusted me, and they’ve lost their homes because of it.”

“They lost their homes here,” I rebutted, “but they can make a home elsewhere. A house is just a thing, a home is wherever you choose to make it.”

Temüjin looked like he was deep in thought so I let the conversation lapse. Shun snored lightly between the chairs as we sat in silence, passing the pipe back and forth, watching the dusk descend into night.