It was only then that Parson was able to get a good look at Jackson’s unique overcoat. The thing was a complex swirl of white and crimson, and it was supposed to be fireproof, Parson knew, but about half of it was missing, and now it looked more like some kind of torn and melted cloak.
Parson had heard about Jackson’s recent victory here, but he’d been too pressed for time to find out any of the details. Frankly, the whole thing had been a surprise--perhaps even to Jackson, by the look of things.
By appearance alone, Jackson was actually quite short, but his face could have been chiseled from bronze, dark complexion and all, and his eyes were as brilliant a blue as Parson had ever seen.
“Best not get too close to me,” the field marshal warned. “I accidentally incinerated Kane earlier.”
Parson blinked at that. “Kane? As in, Field Marshal Kane?”
“And by ‘incinerated,’ you don’t mean...?”
“Oh, no, of course not. He’s fine now. Though, if you run into him, I wouldn’t advise bringing it up. He seemed rather upset.”
Parson decided to take a few steps backward. If he was being completely honest, Jackson’s power was one of the ones he feared most in this world, if only because it held such an overwhelming advantage against him. So to then find out that the man was having difficulty controlling it--this was not the most comforting news.
“Where is Hyozen?” Parson asked.
“Resting,” said Jackson.
Parson didn’t want to let the conversation slacken. The longer he could dance around his reason for being here, the better. “So Abolish has really been run out of Horsht, huh?”
“It seems so.”
Parson didn’t like the way the man was staring at him. “I know you’re not one for celebrations, but I doubt anyone could argue that you don’t deserve one. A big party. Wouldn’t that be nice?”