Most Precious of Treasures: Chapter 3: The Offer
Chapter 3: The Offer
It was some time later, over a decaorn after Prowl had been hired at the Enforcer's Station as a desk-clerk, that the draken came back.
As always, it was a scheduled visit, a regular thing.
Prowl, however, having never been in the city before, was unaware, and so was surprised at the lack of activity throughout Iacon as he walked to work.
All was silent. Mechs went about their business with downcast optics and tight armor, barely watching where they were going, barely looking about as they did their ornly chores.
“What is happening?” was Prowl's greeting as he walked toward his desk, stopping at one of the patrol-mech's desks.
Barricade gave him a long glance before setting down his report and motioning him into a side room.
“You really don't know?”
The Praxian shook his helm. “I do not. Everyone is acting strangely. As though they were frightened.”
The black Enforcer snorted, rattling his armor as he leaned against a long conference table. “The draken. This orn is the one he comes to collect his tax.”
And with that, Prowl remembered. He remembered the travelers that his creators occasionally housed telling of the monstrous beast and the rich kingdom, and, later, hearing from people himself of the Prime's offer.
Barricade recognized the realization and gave a dry grin. “Yeah. Most'a us were wondering why you'd wanna stay here. I guess that answers it. You forgot.”
“Indeed,” Prowl murmured again, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
The draken was the reason for Iacon's decline. Remove the draken, reverse the decline, right? Not to mention he would have a Prime in his debt.
Which would, no doubt, make Iacon a wonderful home for himself and his brother.
Having decided, Prowl refocused on Barricade. “I thank you,” he said, giving a slight nod, and directed the conversation to safer grounds.
It was some time later, over a decaorn after Prowl had been hired at the Enforcer's Station as a desk-clerk, that the draken came back.
As always, it was a scheduled visit, a regular thing.
Prowl, however, having never been in the city before, was unaware, and so was surprised at the lack of activity throughout Iacon as he walked to work.
All was silent. Mechs went about their business with downcast optics and tight armor, barely watching where they were going, barely looking about as they did their ornly chores.
“What is happening?” was Prowl's greeting as he walked toward his desk, stopping at one of the patrol-mech's desks.
Barricade gave him a long glance before setting down his report and motioning him into a side room.
“You really don't know?”
The Praxian shook his helm. “I do not. Everyone is acting strangely. As though they were frightened.”
The black Enforcer snorted, rattling his armor as he leaned against a long conference table. “The draken. This orn is the one he comes to collect his tax.”
And with that, Prowl remembered. He remembered the travelers that his creators occasionally housed telling of the monstrous beast and the rich kingdom, and, later, hearing from people himself of the Prime's offer.
Barricade recognized the realization and gave a dry grin. “Yeah. Most'a us were wondering why you'd wanna stay here. I guess that answers it. You forgot.”
“Indeed,” Prowl murmured again, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
The draken was the reason for Iacon's decline. Remove the draken, reverse the decline, right? Not to mention he would have a Prime in his debt.
Which would, no doubt, make Iacon a wonderful home for himself and his brother.
Having decided, Prowl refocused on Barricade. “I thank you,” he said, giving a slight nod, and directed the conversation to safer grounds.