CHAPTER 8

Date: May 4th, 110 P.A. / 2114 C.E.

As Abaddon had said, the assembly came…and went. In itself it only took a few hours, but those few hours were in themselves quite dramatic in all that occurred within them. Initially, it was much the same as any other meetings they had attended to, the merchants paying their respects, the nobles fluttering about, the Priests keeping to themselves, the Attendant blowing out his voice by the second hour. Thankfully then, the public hours closed, the private debates beginning. With the arrival of the army after their annual yearly travels across the country, there was much to be spoken of by the Commander.

As Arei understood it, there was something of three factions within the Temple hierarchy, after a God and its personal Priestess. The Attendant and the Priests generally had an equal amount of power depending on the situation, but while concerning the holy order, the Commander had a lower rank. It is was a matter of internal country affairs, then the Commander had as much power as the Attendant, and more than the Priests. For most of the year, however, a large percentage of the army that was not dedicated to the defense of the various cities and Temple, was out patrolling, searching for raiders or, more importantly, the rebellious heretics that sought to tear down the holy governmental system that had been installed for close to a century. These rebels were not people Arei knew much about, but it was highly suggested that she should avoid any associated with them.

At any rate, in holy affairs, below the Attendant was the Handmaidens, who, to put it simply and broadly, ranked above both the army officers and the nobility, which often mixed. Depending on their ranking, imperial servants could be as high in office as a noble—such ranks as High "X" and Master "Y." The spots of journeymen, apprentice, and novice could not even be said to rank as high as various successful merchants, who often either married of become nobility through enough time and funds. And below them lay the peasantry; the lowest ranks being that of various slaves, criminals, and other persons with shady occupations. And thrown into the whole intricate web were those that belonged to no order, Holy, Military, or Common, or belonged to both, or had a rank that had nothing to do with power. For example, the Holy Physician to both the God and Priestess. In status, he was equal to Byron, but in power, he was the same as most Imperial Masters in the Temple. It was only due to his trade that allowed him to have such potent decision-making.

So as Arei's mind spun on all of this, she barely glanced over at the squadrons, their leaders, or the one in charge. Truth be told, she was exhausted after not only Speaking for her god for almost five hours straight, and she had no moved for nearly as long. She had been up all late night trying to memorize the ranking of each class, to learn their badges so as to identify them. Holy—God, Priestess, Attendant, Priest, Handmaidens, nobles, imperial servants. Military—Commander and down on through the army ranks. Common—Merchants, Peasantry, less citizens. Cross, sword, and star.

And to make it worse, this was only HER country! There were others reputed to be set up completely different depending simply on the gender of the seraph. Bound and tired, she caught herself nodding off numerous times, the monotone of the roll call for the soldiers seeping into each other in her ears. Abaddon noticed this, and quietly told her that she could scoot back and lean her head against his thigh. She could take a nap…after all, it was the people she needed to be concerned with. The army was his to observe and it was his task to hear their reports. She could rest…they would understand, and likely be better on ease if she were not listening. Arei, grateful, did as suggested, and let herself drift off….

Afterwards, the men and women who made up the militia seemed to relax, as if aware that innocent ears had been closed in how she slumped slightly against him, curled up to his fur, his warmth. His tail went around her lightly, comfortably, supporting her, and as the ranks filed out, dismissed to their barracks on the grounds, and to their ten weeks leave, the remaining personal got to business of an altogether more serious form. The highest officials sat at the table, the Commander yet standing straight and rigid, and if he had not begun to walk towards the God, he would have appeared to be standing at attention. As it was, he bowed low to his God, gazing at the Priestess, almost puzzled, as if he recognized something long forgotten in her. On an unofficial note, he said to his superior:

"I had heard Kara was poisoned, but still, it is always an unpleasant shock to find a new Priestess in place of the one I left behind. And this one…this Arei…she's almost a child still…."

He could not say it without risking becoming the very type of people he fought against, but still…he could not approve of his God's choice. He was certain the creature had his reasons, and yet…she was so young. And as he knew well, she could not last long. She would not see her twentieth birthday. She would not have children. She could have been so much…but now there the girl was, sleeping against the god. Nothing more than a tool, a mouthpiece. Indeed, it was quite a shame. Oh, perhaps this type of life could be better than what she might have had before…but still, in return, she would soon have to forfeit her life….

Of all the things his God had done, the only thing the Commander could start to despise was the fact that, with all of his power, he could not…no, WOULD not protect the very one closest to him. He let them die…he refused to reach out with the power the Commander Talyn knew he had and save them.

Gazing at the Attendant, he knew this was mutual between them. After all, Kara had meant so much to the boy. His own twin sister. The shock must have driven him almost mad with grief. Yet here he was, serving loyally…smiling at the one who had taken his sibling's place. Despite his youth, the old Commander admitted to himself—he respected that type of faith and strength in the other. Both of his own had long since been tested.

As for the new woman…she looked familiar, but he shoved the thought aside. Putting a name to the face, the first name, the real one, would only cause turmoil. After all, the name belonged to a corpse…this creature was the result.

Shaking his head minutely, he gave them all of his reports. As they approached the conclusion of these, the debates rarely leaving manageable pitch and volume due only to the sleeping female, a rather pleasant change to the shouting that would be going on otherwise. Only rarely, when concerning certain groups of outcasts, did the military and holy forces agree on matters. Their goal in that, at least, was the same. Slowly, though, they began to notice, thought did not comment, on the movement of the Priestess.

Arei was having nightmares, fitful ones of flame and dark faces. Her jerks were fitful, and she seemed to have difficulty breathing from the imaginary smoke. She did not cry out, but she shivered, coming into a cold sweat, grasping at her god tightly. His paw stroked soothing at her hair, yet this act did not calm her. The fear intensified…words joining the image. To lock the doors, to destroy the evidence, to declare it an example. A child his beneath the floorboards, huddled against stone, screaming silently. Through the flames a face became clear…!

She started awoke, causing the Commander to stop mid-sentence. Her eyes caught on him…on his face. The same angular face, the same color of hair, raven-wing back in the mustache and beard which grew together, the same build, clothes, eyes. The flame of her dreams seemed to burn throughout her heart, her stomach, hot with anger, fury, and without thought, she darted up, dashing to him, crying out a sound that almost resembled a word that described his character but escaped her. All she knew was that she despised, HATED the wide-eyed man in front of her, and expressed that by hitting him as hard as she could across the face.

There had been no thought to it, only overwhelming emotion, terror twisted to anger. She was shaking, hyperventilating, and as the man staggered back, he gazed up at her in horrified shock. Then he recognized bits and pieces of her, but still, he did not fully understand. He babbled out something, very aware that his Priestess, the second-in-command of his country, had just struck out at him in rage and distaste. What had he done to her? They had never before met! What had he done to arouse this anger?

Suddenly, Arei seemed to come back to herself. She felt her shaking hands, felt the eyes upon her. Trembling, she whispered to the man an apology, because for the life of her, she could not recall what sin he had ever committed against her. He did not seem cruel, only shocked…and unable to look at him, nor her lord, she ran. Ran past her Attendant, her God, and back up to the sanctuary of her quarters, interrogating herself on why just as much as the man she had struck.

Byron moved as if to go after her, but Abaddon stood, shaking his head. "Leave her be. We shall not go after her, but finish this meeting. All of you, be seated!" he ordered coldly.

They obeyed, and before chatter could arise, the seraph prompted the Commander, "Now, Talyn, what is this you say about a nest?"

The military head continued his brief. "We have intel that leads us to believe that the rebels have established a base in the southwestern mountain range. Scouts have confined that there is indeed activity there, and at least one Holder of the Holy Children has been confirmed among the supply crew. As many of my officers are on their break presently, I suggest that I be allowed to take fresh troops from the Temple Protectorate to try to capture the complex."

"You believe this to be an important stronghold?"

He gave a curt nod. "Indeed. For the rumors circulating have more than once mentioned the presence of some of those families we know to be ruling bodies: the Ketchums, for one."

The old name sparked something within Abaddon's eyes. The descendants of that boy and his fiery-haired friend had proven most troublesome…indeed, to have perhaps located one would be a rare fine, a rare capture for the army, as strong as it was. To capture or kill that one would acquire Abaddon quite an excellent piece to use against the heretics.

He contemplated, then said, "You have my authorization to seize the base. Capture as many as you can, beast and human alike. If you can kill, you may. Try to bring me the leaders if you can. Probing their minds could indeed prove fruitful to our Cleansings."

Cleansing…the purging of the land of the unfaithful. The non-believers. Not shunned—killed. They were dangerous pests, better left crushed than to breed again and cause havoc on the orderly system that had been so long installed by the ancestral humans.

Did he expect his forces to succeed? In part. But there were forces against them. Strong forces. The trainers of old…and projectile weapons. Pure elemental energy…and the destructive forces of guns and bombs.

After that, the meeting concluded. There was nothing more to say. What the rebels had in firepower they lacked in numbers. And numbers, and their soft hearts, would destroy them in the end. Of that the god was certain.