...Arwintar...
Jircniv sat with the priests of his empire in a great room. On the walls sat portraits of priests and emperors past, not all, but great men, down to when they were but kings and a priest counted himself great if he had a building with a single room that could hold two hundred souls, art had improved, and representations were now, near perfect.
But nothing compared to the one they now looked at. A single gift, something given to them by the Sorcerer King. The priests and the emperor all gathered together arrayed with His Majesty at the center, clasping the hand of the Emperor as one might a brother, the unity of royals... but it was like no painting anyone had ever seen. An art of Nazarick had made it in an instant, no lines or flaws, just 'them' as they had been, in age and youth, in nobility and wisdom.
For those who loved their history and past, who remembered the stories of those who came before, it had been a poignant moment that had moved many almost to tears to see it so.
"Amazing. Truly... amazing. Isn't it." Jircniv said with eyes more gentle than any had ever seen it, his hand lovingly caressed the sheen of the unusual paper on which the image had appeared.
"Truly." Sudon replied with equal awe and wonder in his voice. Though older than Jircniv by many years, he had the vigor of a man twenty years his junior, a consequence, the emperor recalled, of his mild consumption of the wine made from Idun's Apples over a year before. "To think I should live, to see things become as they are..."
A rumbling of agreement passed around the room.
"But you did not ask to meet with me just so that we could look at this... what was the word... 'photograph' together, did you, ladies and gentlemen?" Jircniv asked calmly.
Sudon reluctantly looked away from the marvelous gift, "Are you behind the deaths?"
"Well, so we're going to be blunt, are we?" Jircniv asked with some relief.
He folded one hand over the other and then nodded firmly. "I am. But not how you mean."
There were many narrowed eyes and furrowed brows facing him, but the Bloody Emperor did not flinch.
"I did not kill a single one of them, I merely put them into positions where they could 'get' killed, helped the process along, if you care to think of it that way." Jircniv explained patiently, then inclined his head in acknowledgement, "Clever of you to realize it, I honestly didn't think you would."
"Why? These men and women were loyal to the empire." High Priest Sudon said unhappily.
"No, they were loyal to the old gods, the old ways, they were hateful towards His Majesty and were only slightly more tolerant of the existence of demihumans than the Slane Theocracy. I couldn't let them see the end of the war, because they would sow the seeds of our destruction or the destruction of vast numbers." Jircniv clenched one hand over the other on the table.
"I do what needs to be done for the security of the empire, if those men and women had been left to their own devices, they would have incited rebellion, if not in their lifetime, then it would be in the next one. They were the roots of weeds that would have sullied the garden of our empire, I simply tore them out before they could do so." Emperor Jircniv said with icy calmness and absolute courtesy.
"How do you know this?" The High Priest asked with a growing suspicion.
Jircniv confirmed that suspicion quickly. "I have my own intelligence agency you know, true I might not have the resources of His Majesty, but it is more than enough to send visitors to temples around the empire to sit in on their rituals and listen to the priests talk. The ones who give anti-undead sermons or speak of demihumans or heteromorphs as beings to be exterminated, are definitely going to cause problems for me, you, and everyone later. Just as importantly, they would definitely vote against his divinity at the Synod. Suppose the vote fails, or even if it wins, but our lands have the lowest numbers of priestly supporters. You have seen his generosity, his nobility, he is a river to his people, but he is also a terrible flood who sweeps away those who bar his way."
The room was very quiet as the implications of what he'd just said swept over the room like the chill winter wind that was now blowing outside their warm, light stone lit room.
"I will see this nation prosper, and anyone who bars that way or would bar that way must not be permitted to continue as they are." Jircniv said with the resolute hardness of spirit that had made him the man who was the Bloody Emperor.
The High Priest 'blinked' first in the staring match that followed. "You can... prove this... ah... future treason?" He asked uncomfortably.
"Yes." Jircniv said with iron clad certainty. The nervous looks and darting gazes of the others told him that they were shocked at his claim. A part of his inner mighty mind smiled at the question that might have been intended to throw him off and justify some demand for recompense or a later retaliation.
"I had their sermons all recorded, just because I did not expect you to work out what I'd done, does not mean I would not have prepared for the eventuality, you ladies and gentlemen, have all reached the same conclusion I have. This god is rising over the world, I would have us at his side or at his back, not in his path. Do you want us to be another Slane Theocracy one day? Because I do not." A collective shudder ran through their ranks.
Jircniv continued to hammer the point home, "Suppose I had done nothing, and ten years from now those priests stirred the population up into a frenzy of anti-undead behavior, maybe they convince a few great warriors, they get their own 'Remedios' and they start going around attacking the followers of the Sorcerer King. Just what do you think will happen?"
The High Priest was quiet, he looked at his fellows, they were silent too. "I-I don't know."
"I do." Jircniv replied calmly. "I met the one who would do it. And that is if we're lucky, and from what I hear, things are worse." He took a deep breath, and then told them of the things said in his briefings on the state of the war, the destruction of cities, the slaughter of armies, he watched their faces transform from angry and concerned, to more than a little wary.
"It's gotten so even the other generals are using that one as a threat, and are raising questions in their reports higher. General Nimble has sent me no fewer than three different letters imploring me to do whatever it takes to keep another war at bay after this one ends. You all know him, he's a good man, even a pious one inasmuch as any warrior in the Empire is. If he's telling me this, I take it seriously, and I hope you do too." Jircniv finished speaking, and waited for any response they may make.
Sudon suddenly looked his age again, face wrinkled and careworn, as if the weight of his office was bearing down on him once more. "I... see. My Emperor, we have supported you for years for more reasons than your power, but because you governed well and wisely, learning this was... distressing, and we would like to see the sermons of which you speak. However... these are priestly matters and you have always left those to us. Therefore I would ask that for all others, you leave it in our hands. We have trusted you, will you now trust us?"
Jircniv wanted to slap himself. 'OK well now that puts me quite on the spot, doesn't it? I can't very well say no without permanently breaking faith with the temples that are the foundation of spiritual life here in the Empire, and the last thing I want before the Synod is for they and I to be opposed to one another. I suppose I'm not the only competent ruler of men. But I don't have to give him everything either.' He thought to himself as the moment stretched, and this time, the Bloody Emperor 'blinked'.
Jircniv spoke with a mindful courtesy, firm, but also conciliatory as his gaze met one set of eyes after another before they came back to those of the elderly High Priest. "You're right, I will. I will give you my list of all remaining 'concerning' priests. Along with copies of the sermons that put them on that list. You can handle them as you think best, defrock them, transfer them out of the way, figure out 'something' that will keep them from posing problems in the future. However..." Jircniv kept his hands on the table, one folded over the other, but raised his pointer finger up from that position to make his conditional offering, "you must swear on your lives, your families lives, your temples and your offices, that if you find one with whom you cannot settle matters, you will report them to me for a more direct and permanent solution."
'Not for nothing is he our emperor, such a clever way to give to me, while also keeping back that control that concerned me so. Now if I don't accept his offer, I'll look even to my colleagues as if I'm trying to engage in a power grab to put us above the emperor or worse... above the Sorcerer King. Or even look like I might be sympathetic to the cause of those dissidents. Well, I wrangled more than I expected from the clever emperor... I think I shouldn't push it further than I have.' Sudon thought to himself as he admired the political adroitness of the ruler of the Baharuth Empire.
"I accept, and suggest that we begin to meet regularly, say once a week, to go over these concerns at least until after the Synod has taken place." Sudon proposed.
A smile graced the Emperor's face. "I think that would be very productive, alright, I'll arrange it with my secretary." He replied.
The tension in the room melted away. Jircniv however, decided to probe for information to satisfy his curiosity and allay a lingering concern. "If there's nothing else... just out of curiosity, I assume you're in contact with temples around the Sorcerer King's domain... how are they responding to events? And on a related note, are you speaking with the temples of Black Justice that have been springing up?"
The fact that Sudon's body was relaxed after both questions was a quiet relief to the emperor. "Favorable. In the Draconic Kingdom, temples began to spring up after the official founding in Hoburns, but a number of the old gods temples were already including him in the pantheon on their own, covertly at least, after he solved the problem with the Beastmen. Re-Estize is slower on the change, but the public reveal of the Slane Theocracy's involvement created a 'lot' of cynicism about the old religion. As a result, some temples there aren't waiting for the Synod either. And you've probably become familiar with the state of the Roble Holy Kingdom. The Southern Holy Kingdom will probably not even send representatives, but if they do, I expect they'll be quiet and run away as soon as they cast their vote. The Northern Holy Kingdom has all but abandoned the old gods completely. But do you know what is really interesting?" The High Priest asked with a broad smile forming on his face.
"What?" Jircniv asked, leaning in as if to hear a marvelous and juicy secret.
"The temples that were heretically adding the Sorcerer king on their own, have seen a rise in attendance by nonhuman worshipers, our priests have reported an abundance on the military marches, and a lot of the little towns they've been to that are seeing the start of reconstruction efforts paid for by the Sorcerer King, are seeing the same thing. The independent Black Justice temples are somewhat more standoffish towards us than I'd like... but after Remedios, the Slane Theocracy, and their inquisitors... I don't blame them. They aren't hostile to us at least." He cracked his withered knuckles as he made a fist, "But... "
"But?" The Emperor pressed, furrowing his brow at the unexpected hesitation.
"I still believe in the six, of course there are those Black Justice heretics who insist that the Sorcerer King is Surshana's father, but they're a minority and have not challenged any doctrine, but the real problem is finding a use for the temples as we are. True I have come to believe in His Majesty, but I do not accept he alone as divine. As our temples change however, and he becomes our seventh, I am fearful of conflict between those who say he alone is divine. Too, I fear the potential irrelevance of the temples we have, we need new sources of income for those who do not immediately change or never do, or they will become desperate... and as we know from the example of the Slane Theocracy, a religious order that becomes desperate, becomes dangerous." Sudon cautioned the emperor and let his hands fall open from where they rested on the table, as if to emphasize the gravity of such a potential series of schisms.
"That... could be a problem, I'll bring it up to Neia Baraja and His Majesty at our next meeting." Jircniv replied as he stood.
The priests stood and bowed to the Bloody Emperor. "Thank you for meeting with us, My Lord." The High Priest said gratefully as he took the picture the Sorcerer King had posed them all together to take, then brought it to the wall and hung it at the head of the table.
It was still hanging there three centuries later.
...Nazarick...
"What is the last thing you remember?" Demiurge asked the head of Remedios Custodio.
"An undead worshiping bitch driving her sword through my throat." Remedios said groggily. Demiurge smiled approvingly from behind her.
"How's she doing?" His assistant asked curiously as she walked into the room.
"Fine, everything is normal, she's groggy, and her vision hasn't returned yet, but once the blood starts flowing more, that should change." Demiurge replied.
"Oh, goody." Golden fingers clapped together happily, creating a little clicking noise as her talons clattered together.
"Why... can't I feel my legs, or arms... or anything...?" Remedios slurred out and tried, and failed, to move her head.
"Can you open your eyes yet?" Vanysa asked with interest as she came closer.
"I... I can move them, things are... starting to clear up." Remedios replied, "Please, tell me what happened, is the bitch dead, how am I alive, where am I?! Who are you?!" Her voice began to grow tense, anxious.
Remedios felt the gentle touch of pads of fingers caress her cheek. "Don't worry, when your eyes function, you'll understand." The voice was so kind, so sweet, she felt herself relaxing. "You should be able to open them soon, this just takes a little while, I'd hurry it if I could, but I can't. So please forgive me, but you'll understand soon. Oh, and my name is Vanysa, just call me by that, and I'll explain everything to you when your senses come back."
The sweet voice sounded so kind and apologetic that... she just couldn't say no, it was almost childlike in it's gentle apologetic tone, that Remedios could only sigh and relax. "Alright, alright... I... don't like this though."
"I understand... just be patient." Vanysa said again.
An hour later, her eyes began to flutter open, blurry shapes began to come into focus. She saw the gold skin, batlike wings, horns, fangs, talons, and Remedios, no coward even at her most desperate, tried to move, but found all she could do was rock her head around, that was when she cast her eyes down, and screamed.
"Ah, I see she's fully aware now." Demiurge said from behind her.
"Where is my body?! Why am I only a head?! Where's the rest of me?! What have you done, demoness! Are you one of Jaldabaoth's servants?! Are you..." The talons darted out and the golden face turned wrathful, talons pierced Remedios's tongue and held it fast.
'Well, I guess she's not technically wrong... in a way.' Demiurge thought to himself.
"You will use my name, and nothing else, to address, me, or I will tear out your tongue, heal it, and repeat, over and over again until you learn it." The demoness hissed out. "Now be silent, and we will explain everything."
After she released her grip, Remedios closed her mouth tightly as if to prevent those fingers from returning.
"Now, you are alive because we spent the last few months trying to find a way to keep heads alive independently." Demiurge said from behind her, he drummed his fingers over and over atop her head as he spoke, she rocked and shook under his touch, but could do nothing to dislodge him.
"It wasn't easy, there were lots of failures, we tried it on all kinds of bodies." Vanysa picked up, crouching down in front of the head of the former head of the paladin order. Vanysa's fingers tapped together as she rested her elbows on her thighs, so that she was eye level with the former dead woman.
Demiurge then picked up afterward, and drummed his fingers a little harder. "But... after Neia killed you, we recovered your body and preserved it, knowing we'd succeed eventually, which we did, obviously."
Vanysa giggled sweetly, in stark contrast to her appearance, and carried on with the explanation, "Now you're probably wondering 'why'. Why go to all that trouble just to save a single head? I'm a demoness, and Lord Demiurge back there is a demon, so you're probably thinking it is just to hurt you. Well..."
She suddenly darted her hands out so that they clutched Remedios's cheeks and she drew herself close, her storm gray eyes staring into Remedios's own. "You're right... sort of. We're going to give your head to the renewed Elven Kingdom as a coronation gift for Queen Zesshi, we're going to put a proximity fire enchantment on you, so that every time somebody with hostile intent comes close to where you're stationed, you will burst into flames. Your screams will surely be loud enough to alert anyone nearby of danger. A... fitting end, I think, for someone like you, don't you think?" Vanysa cackled madly for several minutes.
"Unfortunately I could not prevail upon my lord to make it a permanent existence for you. But don't worry, it won't kill you immediately either, this 'box' you are secured to also contains the means to keep your head healed and alive. You'll be like this until you've burned as long as all your victims did." Demiurge said with a kind of passive boredom, as if he no longer cared about the experiment now that it was successful.
Remedios began to try to twist and rock her head desperately away from her position. "No! No! Noooooo!" She shouted in a frenzy of denial and futile struggling as she frothed at the mouth.
The long black hair of the demoness in front of her danced wildly until the cackle of laughter finally began to fade away. "I'll box her up for shipping, Lord Demiurge, then afterward, dinner and a song?"
"That will be a pleasant evening, we can discuss how to extract mana from unwilling donors for implantation in objects." He replied with a pleasant smile on his face as he picked up a crate and tossed it over to her.
"Of course, but I still think we need a more malleable form of crystal for it to work, I mean you can't put a gallon of water in a two ounce thimble no matter how fast you pour, and a square peg won't fit in a round hole unless the hole is big enough." She replied pleasantly.
Remedios was utterly lost as the insane conversation went on, but when she felt herself being lifted and placed into a crate, she started to shriek, she was still screaming when the darkness came over her, but nobody paid even the least bit of attention.
AN: Thanks for reading so far, of course all good things must come to an end, and we're getting there. Thank you to those who have subscribed to my patr30n at /tellingstories to read my original work. See you at the finish line!