The cRh'crhChrich capital, as well as any other city that entertained the thought of resistance, was in flames.  The scent of their roasting flesh wafted through the courtyard on which Khyssher waited.  A lesser servant/tool of S'sskylklya would be drooling but Khyssher had better control over himself, and it would not be appropriate to do so in front of his Lord.  He had waited, kneeling, for close to a half-quarter, face staring at the tiles and perfectly still as lesser servants gathered the still living leaders of this world.  He continued to wait as his lord progressed through the passage of rulership, whereupon the leader caste of the conquered land would be ingested and slowly digested inside his Greatness.  They would feed and sustain his Lord; digestion would be slow, the fluids would take anywhere from an arcon to a quarter-relv, depending on the vastness of the caste and the individual mass of its member species.  The ceremony concluded and S'sskylklya slowly approached his subject.

          Khyssher felt his Lords' eyes upon him and he waited to be recognized.

          "Your duty again concludes successfully."  Khyssher showed no outward display of emotion but inside he shivered in pleasure at the sound of his Lord's voice, "My victory offers another base for expansion," a pause, "and to organize the oblivion of my enemies.  This world holds resources we can use; unfortunate that the dominant species shows such little value.  It matters not; the Khanate will still fall, like all others before them.  A new cycle of your function begins anew.  Rise and gaze upon your God."

          Khyssher obeyed.  He almost fell to his knees and screamed his unworthiness to gaze upon such a Glorious presence, but for the self-control built into him.  He noticed the slight bulge in his Lord's flawless hide, a meal not worthy of such a being - but he would not mention this.  He felt pleasure warm spread through himself as he noticed S'sskylklyas' two sets of eyes focused on him intensely, he knew of no other who had actually captured his lords attention so fully.

          "Your complement is creating a path to another plane for domestication, you will depart in one-quarter."  Khyssher could feel their time together coming to an end, he felt sadness.

          "As you command Supreme One."

          S'sskylklya was departing before Khyssher even spoke, but this was to be expected and he watched the ground rather than disrespect his God by speaking to him directly.

          One-quarter passed.  Khyssher was completely cleaned and rested in half that time.  He collected the weapons already in his possession when he came to the present world, consoling himself that that would be better than to return to a stronghold for something better and thus go against his Lords' instructions.  A long coat made of zinthathi leather covered his body and a satchel at his side was full of essentials.  Other than that Khyssher needed no more clothing, for carrying purposes nor for protection.  He located Riggaala, his complement, and approached her for instructions. 

          She gazed at him with a mixture of jealousy and yearning.  She too had the traveling instinct built into her.  But she was meant to find and transport to new worlds while he was meant to explore.

          "I have found another victim for our lord."

          Anger swept through Khyssher.  "Is there doubt in His grand design?"

          She slanted her head as if pondering something and stared back at him.  "Don't you ever question your purpose?"

          Khyssher began to speak but she continued, cutting him off.  "Look at all the death around you!  Is this the grand design!?  You know what these creatures will be a relv from now, nothing more than the simplest of tools.  Is there nothing past the next conquest?"

          "You shouldn't speak like that.  He gave us life, He gave us purpose; He is the only thing that matters in any world." 

          Riggaala lost the determined look and nodded, "Forgive my outburst, it is merely fatigue."

          They had been used increasingly in the last quin-relv, Riggaala would be especially susceptible to mental fatigue considering her duties.  "It is forgiven.  Why…" Khyssher stopped himself from asking why she thought so poorly of what they did, such a focus was curious even considering the fatigue.  Curiosity, of all things, was hard-wired into both of them so he felt no shame in asking questions.  Riggaala had clearly let it get control of herself however.

          "I hope you come back safely, Khyssher."

          "As do I."

          The area in front of them seemed to ripple, and then swirl.  Finally, what could be described as a rip appeared, nothing but blackness was seen through it.  Khyssher stepped through it, unafraid, as he had done many times before.