He walked to the walls of the old fortress and stared out to the vast white frozen horizon. It was cold to breath, but that didn't bother him as he inhaled the frigid air. All was fine.
The town was asleep. He had made them lazy; given the people too much.
A good leader was the one who took care of the people; it happens that he now had unlimited resources and the people who followed him just happened to be lucky. Indeed he was generous, but it made it easier to govern too. They kept it all, for all he needed was back at his room, naked under silk sheets and bear pelts. She waited for him, but he needed to deal with business first.
"There, sir," the old man said, his voice hardened by age and habits.
He looked at the live feed on the device on his hand, telescoped by the satellite he had won on a gamble.
"These look like Governmental ships," he said and shuffled the heavy coat to fit in.
"She has been here for too long, sir," the old man added.
"Not even that long," he muttered. "Take them to the Hall when they arrive. Treat them right, but make them wait," he said and left.
He was Art, the slayer of aliens, conqueror of Eastborough, the lord of the Frozen North East, and the forgotten lands.
Art strolled through the empty streets warm under his soles, which was one of his first upgrades to the decaying town. Before the snow melting system, which also provided comfort during the constant winter, Art secured the walls and the defense systems; that alone gave the people comfort enough to keep sleeping on a work day.
Let them sleep, Art thought, the robots could do their chores.
The people of Eastborough had suffered enough under the profitable scheme the local bandits kept around the area. Art saved them, fought them all, disintegrated their bodies with his wrath.
Art shrugged the feeling the memories brought. No need to go back now, he thought and looked to the window at the distance.
He felt a cold rush on his stomach when he found her staring back, or just looking outside, aimed at him, or not.
Art filled up his chest, walked determined, giving her a scene from the centuries before when small things seemed to mean a lot. He had lived through those centuries and understood the romanticism on the small things that ruled people's minds for so long. Nowadays, it was all denied. Humans were denied to be what humans were.
Art knew that. And he knew Esperanza stayed to feel and experience what the system she belonged to denied to her, and to them all.
She met him by the ten foot high heavy wooden doors, curled under the blanket, sewn for a giant in comparison to her delicate features.
"They want me to go," she said after a kiss. "Problems down South."
"I will wait for you, need to clean up the place anyway," he said.
"You will come too. They are expecting you," she said pulling him by the hand, guiding to the upstairs bedroom.
"Why me?" He asked, surprised, although his voice maintained the calm, resonant tune it always had.
"It seems they accept you as a district leader," she said and blinked.
Not that Art wanted to be part of the Government, but he was given no choice. The struggle against the Government was over when they sent Esperanza to the front gates; her daily reports, as required per position, were what tamed the ongoing struggles between Art and them.
"Should I be happy?" He asked, climbing on top of her, as she laid with her back to the bed.
"This way you can see me more," she offered with a smile.
"Why don't you just move in and be my Queen?" Art asked, then kissed her, slowly, enjoying the desire on her eyes. He opened her robes and slid his finger on her brown skin.
"Esperanza," he said her name, as if it unlocked all her resistances.
She sighed.
"I need to go," she said, kissed him, and jumped out from the massive bed.
"Let's take my ship, and go enough North until it becomes the path to the South, find an island, and stay there, forever."
"Does that still fly? Anyway, you won't want me forever. Better to get ready. They will be here soon."
Art let his body fall on the bed.
"Go. I'll meet you there. Need to deal with some things before I leave."
"I will take a few days off and come back, on my own ship. No need to go North then South. We go up," she said, walked to home, grabbed his hand, getting closer, close enough to touch her lips on his, "then, down. And there's South."
She let his hand go and walked away.
And when she left through the door, Art pondered if his time of peace was coming to an end.
He knew about the threat that prompted the South to come North, and it was something beyond what humans were used to.
Art felt the energy around him tick and spark, unseen by the eyes, but felt from a sense physics had no rule over. That alone was a sign of the incoming chaos.
Art walked to the skull over the small table by the fireplace, an ongoing project of his, and before he fell into meditation on a quest to locate the dead merchant, he had a glimpse of Esperanza walking down the courtyard.
He blew the thought away, but he had just seen that scene as the last time he would see her.
He used the emotion, the longing, the hope. Esperanza was still on his mind when his eyes darkened, and he walked back and sat by the fire place that suddenly sparked with flames, created by a move of his hands.
Art stared at the skull and became one with it.
"Tell me your secrets," he said, and felt his soul reach a place where dead souls awaited their call.