Dust on the Mountains
It was bone-achingly cold on the snow-covered mountainside. Even smells were subdued by the cold and Jalmar's skin felt as if it was on fire. The howling of the wind was the only sound that could be heard on this side of the mountain. Where they were not covered in snow the rocks of the mountainside were black and foreboding. A large crowd of people dressed in slight clothes huddled against each other for warmth, crying out for their old home. But a short stones-throw from them a hole cut into the mountainside glowed with a warm, golden light. Men and women in steel-blue armour and holding loaded crossbows stood just inside the threshold of the mountainside entrance. Jalmar sat at the back of the crowd, temporarily distracted from the biting cold by the events in front of him.
"You can't do this!" Someone at the front shouted.
"We are your kin!" Someone else shouted.
A person dressed in the powered armour of a Dawn Officer stepped onto the raised platform just outside the warmth of the Vault-Door. The man's visor was up. Jalmar could not recognise him.
"Ogmar Laine! The High Court found you and your organisation guilty of High Treason, Illegal Alchemy and Unethical Experimentation. For these crimes and more you and your organisation are sentenced to exile!" Behind the Officer the giant titanium doors of the Vault began closing slowly but inexorably.
"Thol!" A man in the front of the crowd shouted. Even over the distance and the howling of snow and wind Jalmar recognised the poise and Dust-tattoos of their illustrious 'leader', Ogmar Laine. "Did I not save your daughter with this 'illegal' alchemy?"
The Officer looked away, not meeting Ogmar's gaze. "The High Court has spoken. Good luck Laine, may the Orrery guide your way."
With that the Officer Thol turned and walked back through the Vault-Door. The thick door shut with a booming noise and the warm light was gone, casting the scene in the black and white of the snow-covered rocks. The storm was so fierce that now Laine was the only visible person, his radiant Dust-tattoos a beacon on the cold mountainside. The defences of the Vaulters were impenetrable and yet Jalmar could still hear people screaming and clawing at the closed door.
"My people!" Ogmar shouted, his voice cutting through the howling of the storm. "Come with me, we are leaving."
Without another word Ogmar turned and began descending the mountainside with sure strides. One by one the people followed him. Not a soul stayed behind.