Behersk walked into the enormous room. It greatly resembled a court room, and as he walked his footsteps echoed loudly. The ceiling above him was high, and it would have taken some time to get there, even if he flew. The room seemed very open to the Seraph. It was completely empty, save a single chair that sat in front of a group of throne-like seats with counters in front of them. The sound of each step closer he got to them, the most powerful figures in the history of Seraphs, did little to calm his anxiety, and his fingers twitched wildly on the arms of the wooden chair once he had been seated. The back of the chair he sat in told the story of the creation of Seraphs, the eternal servants of their God. The carving made his back feel uncomfortable, and even more pressure was felt by Behersk.
On the elevated seats sat eleven youthful men. Ten of them were Majors, which were split into two equal groups on either side of the General of the Seraphian Corps. He, out of the whole group, was elevated to a much higher level than the others. Behersk looked up to him, and the General gave him an indifferent look and sat there studying him. Finally, the General stood, and the commanders followed his actions. This was the first time Behersk had seen the general in person, and Behersk was finding it hard to keep his attention on anyone else. How magnificent the General was. How praised. How loved. How perfect. How Pure. Behersk clutched the arms of the chair tightly. Other than this, he showed no sign of any instability. Yet how he longed to earn the respect of the General. How he longed to be right next to him. To forever serve him and be in his presence. Together they could spread their religion worldwide. None could stand up to them. They would lead the world. Of course, then he would surpass him. He would kill of the General, and show his dominance over him. Those back home would welcome him for killing of a General unfit to lead the nations army. Much too forgiving was he. A wonderful leader he was though. So very wonderful. His death wouldn't be in vain. No. Behersk wouldn't allow it. The funeral would be glorious. Amazingly glorious. Flowers would be everywhere, and the whole population of Seraphs would doubtlessly be in attendance.
General Visten's grand appearance didn't slow Behersk's obsession with him either. His wings were the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Only second to his facial features. The six wings on the Seraph were of golden color, unlike Behersk's own brown wings, and shown with brilliance in the light of the generously placed torches. Even the commanders silver wings were rubbish compared to Vistens. The General seemed to have nothing against showing his awesome appearance off, and opened them as wide as possible. It may have been known to him that the closest Commanders got a face full of wing. Then he spoke, and his voice seemed to tease Behersk's hunger for his presence and power.
"Sergeant Behersk, you have done much to please us...all. Your success on your last mission was excellent. To be absolutely truthful, we were very much doubting your ability to dispose of such a large amount of Beacons! If only they would realize their ignorance, and stop their silly and barbaric religion. Such fools they are. Still, we Seraphs have been charged with a mission. That mission is to purify these lands of all tainted beings. The Beacons are our prime concern, as their spirituality has been called to be the most filthy of all of the wordly creatures by our priestess. Despite our efforts to have them see our views, nay, His views, they resist. By resisting our efforts, the are resisting upmost purity and God himself. They must be stopped at all costs. If they are not, I do fear that they will seek Him out. We cannot afford to lose his sovereignty in this world. And without his awesomeness, the would fall into ruin. The prophecy of His downfall and the pollution of the world must not become reality. We have to protect his greatness. That is the reason for the cruel acts that we assigned you to fulfill. Upon your success, we offer you our blessings of good health. Also, it has been ultimately decided to promote you to the position of a second lieutenant immediately. I trust you know what to do for you promotion to take place. And before I forget, I▓m sure that by now the word of our new experimentations have reached even you. I want you to preform the new actions that come along with it. I▓m looking for someone with your talents.■
The General spoke with a calm voice that reeked of tiresome command giving and lack of sleep. Behersk nodded to him, and then bowed after thanking him as much as possible without frightening them. Then, he stepped into a large clear room that was cylindrical in shape. Then, he removed his shirt, as was necessary, and sat on the equally as clear chair inside the room. Unlike the wooden chair, it was simple in design. Through the back of the chair, on Behersk▓s back, was an insignia of a large cross with ivy wrapped around it. When he looked up, the General and the other ten Majors were surrounding him, on the outside of the room. He had been promoted before, of course, but never with the general present, and Behersk couldn▓t help but to think that it would make all of the difference this time around. He closed his eyes. Slowly they began to speak in a very elaborate spell, full of sounds only of their ancient tongue. It must have been one of the most secretive of the earliest forms, however, because he barely recognized any words they spoke. He felt his skin warm up at a growing pace. Gold light spontaneously appeared in the air around him until all he could see when he opened his eyes was golden nothingness.
Then began the real effects of the transformation. The warm glowing feeling he had been previously experience grew hotter. So very much hotter. Until it was no longer warm, but burning. His skin felt like it was boiling away. He didn▓t doubt that if he hadn▓t gone through such intense and painful training in order to get into the army in the first place, he would have died from the pain. He knew that the Generals presence and power was only making the pain worse, but he didn▓t care. He refused to show weakness in front of the man. His back felt like it was being ripped to ribbons with a hot knife, but he knew that this was not what was really happening. The real occurrence was that the insignia on his back was being changed to match his rank. Each promotion it changed. Each rank had a different insignia. The fact that he was being promoted such a great distance had also increased this pain. Finally, the golden light fell to the floor and disappeared, and the chanted ended. The promotion was complete.