By: Dustin Nulf

Soul of Khazan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Dustin Nulf


With the final strike on the crooked stake from his TransAxe, Khazan
kissed his blood-stained necklace that proclaimed the Symbol of the
HX Force.  His dry lips absorbed the dying energy from the necklace
his father once wore.  A tear raced down his scarred cheek as if it
were foreshadowing the crossing of heritage between himself and the
once great HX Force.  His bloodshot eyes gazed upon the fresh soil
of his father's grave as Khazan wrapped the precious necklace around
the wooden grave-marker.  His mind was filled with black sorrow as
he reluctantly recalled the grim event which had happened only hours
earlier:  A repetitive vision of the Hydrite's evil grin as it
slashed through his father's life.  Khazan began to whisper one
final prayer.

"I have failed you, father.  You had taught me the morals and ways
 of life in the wasteland.  You were to protect me, and I, to
 protect you as I grew stronger in strength and knowledge.  I have
 failed.  But, let it not be known in vain, father.  I will seek
 your revenge in the blood of the Hydrites.  I will use your know-
 ledge to crush the empire of evil and bring the fist of power back
 into the hands of the HX Force.  And this time, father, I will not
 fail."

Khazan paused as if waiting for a response.  His head wearily laid
back and he stared into the grey sky.  His grasp tightened on his
weapon.

 "DO YOU HEAR ME, FATHER?!" Khazan shouted as he trembled.  His arms
 flailed into the air, seeking a reply of comfort.

He lifted his TransAxe into the air as if it were being baptized by
a fresh wind.  The green moon hid behind a storm of clouds as the
stars seemed to stop twinkling.  A rush of wind swept over the dark
wastelands and dried the tears that danced on Khazan's cheek.  His
dark long hair tangled in the wind as the scent from his clothes
lifted into the air.

It seemed for hours as Khazan poised like a statue in the gusting
wind.  His eyes were fixed, gazing into the dark sky.

A hazy white mist then slowly seeped from the ground near the grave
and lifted higher into the air.  Khazan stood motionless.  The mist
rose and slowly circled a shield around him.  A surge of power and
healing streaked through Khazan's course veins.  He could feel the
presence of his father in his heart and in his mind.  A low but
strong voice echoed throughout the wastelands as Khazan eagerly
listened:

"Once idle from your passion, you will know your true self."

Another tear flowed from Khazan's glazed-over eyes as a smile formed
on his dry face.  He quickly used his sleeve to wipe the tear from
his cheek.

"Thank you, father," Khazan whispered as he strapped his TransAxe
onto his shoulder strap.

The green moon reappeared from the shadow of the clouds, and the
dust from the wind settled back onto the wastelands.  Khazan took
his first step of his long journey as he ventured onward.---

Origin: Okillers (1:382/57.0)

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