Disciple of the Dead, page 35
part #3 of Seraphim Revival Series
Seth and Vorin exited the second aircar and proceeded confidently towards the plateau’s front. Several Choir holograms materialized behind them. Most were past sovereigns, and none were over two thousand years old.
So the old guard has finally lost its power, Veketon thought, and for some reason, the revelation pleased him. To Seth’s right were scores of dignitaries: Grendeni Executives, Earth Nation ambassadors, Aktenai governors, more Choir holograms, Mediator Fuurion, and enough seating for six more people. Veketon and the others took their places in the front row and faced the new and old sovereigns.
Vorin stepped forward. His amplified voice boomed out across the crowd.
“People of Aktenzek, Earth, and the Grendeni schisms! Honored guests of the Fellerossi! I present to you the new Sovereign of Aktenzek: the Slayer of the Bane, Keeper Seth Elexen!”
All of the dignitaries on the plateau and the vast majority of the assembled pilots fell to one knee and bowed. The few Earth Nation representatives clapped loudly, as was their custom.
Vorin stepped aside and gestured for Seth to come forward. Veketon thought he made quite a striking image elevated above the crowds with Haanuphel’s seraph at his back. Two giant holographic close-ups of Seth activated to either side, almost as large as Haanuphel’s seraph.
The crowd stood and fell silent.
The plateau dignitaries took their seats.
“An age has come to a close,” Seth began. “The Bane has been defeated, the Gate to the Homeland has been secured, and those responsible for our plight have been brought to justice.”
Seth gestured to the holograms at his sides. His image vanished, replaced with a chaos fiend battling against Alliance seraphs and thrones.
“But a new challenge is before us,” he said. “Here is an enemy that seeks to invade our universe and the Homeland beyond it. Do you think it cares that you are Forsaken or Fallen? Would it make a distinction between Earther or Outcast? No. Such an enemy is blind to those differences. We are all humans. We are all enemies.
“So what shall we do? Wait for these creatures to attack again? Wait for them to invade this universe and destroy the peace we have fought so hard for? No! Instead of waiting for our deaths to come to us, we shall prepare. We shall unite the disparate pieces of humanity, melding them together to form a single Grand Alliance. This we shall do! This we must do!”
The crowds remained silent, awaiting Seth’s words. As Veketon looked across them, a realization struck him. It wasn’t the firm conviction of Seth’s voice or the careful choice of his words that was swaying these pilots. It was who was delivering the message. They all knew Seth, either through reputation or from personally fighting alongside him. They knew that if Seth spoke these words, he believed.
Because of that, many of them began to believe as well. Not all of them, but enough. More than enough.
“The tasks before us are monumental,” Seth continued. “But our societies have already achieved great things. A hundred years ago, who could have imagined Aktenai and Grendeni and Earthers fighting side by side? We have already shown that humanity has the strength to achieve a lasting unity.”
Seth gestured behind him. “And we are not alone in this fight. The Keepers, with their great wisdom and technology, will be at our sides as we venture forward into this new age.”
Haanuphel raised her portal lance with dramatic timing. Her shunts brightened with sudden strength, and white energy crackled across the lance.
“And we also have the Choir, who will always remain with us as a repository of knowledge and a final sanctuary for the honored dead. But it shall no longer rule us! The crimes of the Choir against our societies, and especially against pilots, are all well known. I ask you, how many of you have been wronged by the Choir? How many of your comrades and loved ones have also been wronged?
“I myself have fallen victim to their callousness more times than I can count. And so, henceforth, pilots shall no longer be controlled by the Choir. We shall govern ourselves! The living shall once again rule the living!”
A great cheer rose up from the crowd, catching Seth in the middle of his last sentence. Through their shared experiences of pain and loss, Seth had won their hearts, and Veketon realized the rest of the speech no longer mattered.
It was still a good speech. Seth remarked upon the contributions of the various groups to the Alliance and stressed the trials to come. Overall, he did an admirable job. Veketon would have made it slightly shorter, but that was his only complaint.
Other speeches continued into the evening, but soon they found themselves in the Sovereign’s residence again, dining with pilots and dignitaries.
Half-columns rose to support the dining hall’s high ceiling. Three long wooden tables were arranged in a U, and each had been lavishly crafted by the Palace artisans. Carvings of seraphs and thrones (mostly seraphs) covered the legs and sides of each table as they engaged in battle against nightmarish spawns. Incredibly vivid paintings dominated the table surfaces, featuring seraphs and thrones (mostly seraphs) fighting for their lives against a mighty chaos fiend.
Veketon had to look hard to find his throne. It was shoved into the upper-right corner: a little blotch of half-forgotten white, whereas Seth’s craft posed heroically across a whole third of the painting.
The day wore on, with Seth surrounded by dignitaries and Choir holograms. Sometimes an adventurous individual would come over and talk to Veketon, asking guarded questions about the war and his future intentions. Veketon did his best to support Seth’s vision. Some questioners tried to trick him into verbal gaffes, but Veketon was three hundred times older than most of them. They did not succeed.
Tesset spent most of the dinner shyly off to the side, avoiding the huge gaggle surrounding Seth. Quennin stopped by after the meal, and the two women talked the evening away. Both ended up smiling and even laughing with Seth’s name mentioned quite often.
Yonu stuck close to Jared, if for no other reason than to keep alcohol out of his reach. She succeeded, and Jared spent the better part of an hour glaring morosely at the selection of drinks.
After desserts, the dignitaries left, and the Choir holograms vanished one by one. Soon, only Seth, Vorin, and the other pilots remained. A thought came to Veketon’s mind, and he counted the occupants.
Six, excluding Seth. He couldn’t possibly be considering …
Seth and Vorin finished a conversation with laughs on both sides, and the new Sovereign stood up.
“Thank you everyone for your patience,” he said. “But there is one last task I must perform today. A Sovereign requires an honor guard.”
He can’t be serious.
But another thought crossed Veketon’s mind: This is Seth. Of course he’s serious.
Palace servants brought six sets of uniforms and placed them in a row on the head table, which had already been cleared and cleaned. The uniforms were storm-gray with flourishes of silver. Seth walked up to the head table and rested a hand on the first uniform.
“Vorin Daelus, would you please come forward?”
Vorin rose, a tall and imposing figure before the far shorter Seth Elexen. His hair was ghost white, and he still wore the garb of his former office: a long storm-gray coat with hem and cuffs edged in gold. Ornate golden curves and curlicues splashed up the forearms, and a belt looped loosely around his waist with a golden buckle shaped like a six-winged hawk.
The uniforms on the table closely matched his, except highlighted in silver, not gold.
“Vorin, you have served Aktenzek faithfully all your life. First as pilot, then as Renseki, and finally as Sovereign.”
“And I suppose you want some more out of this old man?” Vorin said with a wry smile.
“How could I ignore the qualifications of one so decorated and so faithful to Aktenzek? Vorin, I humbly ask you to lead my honor guard.”
Vorin knelt before Seth and bowed his head deeply. “How could I deny a request from the Slayer of the Bane?”
Vorin stood, unbuckled his Sovereign’s coat, and removed it. Underneath he wore a white shirt and storm-gray pants. Seth unfolded the first Renseki coat, stood behind Vorin, and helped his new honor guard commander put it on.
A Sovereign serving those who will serve him, Veketon thought. How very like Seth.
Vorin straightened out the coat and stepped aside.
“Tesset Daelus, would you please come forward?”
She slowly rose from her seat and walked cautiously towards him.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Tesset, how could I not ask this of you?” Seth said with a warm smile. “You were not raised as a pilot, nor were you granted a normal childhood. The Original Eleven stole that from you even as the Choir seeks to steal something even more precious. But through all of it, you have endured, and you have grown into a remarkably courageous woman. You have stood by your comrades through incredible adversity, and we owe much to your bravery.”
“I’m a bit young for a Renseki, don’t you think?”
“Age does not limit your capacity for greatness,” Seth said. “And so, Tesset, I humbly ask you to join my honor guard.”
She smiled mischievously. “Well, only because you asked so nicely.”
Tesset bowed and then pulled her green armband off, as was customary for a pilot elevated to the Renseki. A Sovereign’s honor guard did not publicly display their chaos frequency.
She reached up for her green blindfold, but hesitated.
“Umm, do you have something for this?”
Seth unfurled a new storm-gray blindfold stitched with flourishes of silver.
“That’ll do.” Tesset removed her green blindfold and tied the new one in place. Seth helped her into the Renseki coat, and she joined Vorin at his side.
“Yonu Nezrii, please come forward.”
Yonu rose from her seat, looking almost as embarrassed as Tesset by the honor before her. She approached Seth and gave him a bashful smile.
“Seth, not to be repetitive, but are you sure about this?”
“Of course.” He picked up another uniform. “Yonu, your mother and father served in the Renseki, and you are in every way their daughter. You have been a faithful pilot of Aktenzek all your life. You have fought against terrifying foes, and not once have you abandoned your duty. For all these reasons and more, I humbly ask you to join my honor guard.”
She fell to one knee and bowed her head. “The honor is all mine. Thank you.”
Seth unfolded the Renseki coat. Yonu stood up and pulled off her blue armband. She removed her sapphire crucifix earrings and undid the blue ribbon entwined within her braid. She shook her hair out and set the blue articles aside.
“Seth?”
“What’s wrong?”
“May I keep this?” Yonu asked, holding up a hand. On a finger, her gold ring glinted with its sapphire and ruby pair. Behind her, Jared stirred nervously.
“Of course you may.”
“Thank you,” Yonu said.
Seth helped her into the Renseki coat, and she stepped aside.
“Jared Daykin, would you please come forward?”
Jared snapped his gaze up. He looked around, possibly expecting to find another Jared Daykin in the room.
“You mean me, right?” he asked, walking towards Seth.
“Of course.”
“But I’m an Earther.”
“You did listen to the speech, correct?”
“Well, to be honest, it got a little boring, and I zoned out somewhere around the middle.”
“Jared, differences like that are unimportant,” Seth said. “You may have been raised by a different culture, but you are as selfless and honorable as the best Aktenzek has to offer. Your sense of duty has never wavered, not even when facing the Bane or Vayl.”
Seth picked up the uniform and unfolded it.
“Jared, I humbly ask that you join my honor guard.”
“Umm, I guess so. Do I have to bow?”
From within the line of inducted Renseki, Yonu sighed and shook her head.
“I suppose it’s optional in your case,” Seth said.
“Oh. All right then.”
Jared pulled his red armband off. Seth helped him into the Renseki coat.
After Jared joined the others, Seth rested a hand on the last two uniforms.
“There is a tradition among the Sovereigns and the Choir,” Seth said. “We often show great mercy to those who have turned away from a destructive path. Jack Donolon was one such individual, and I never once regretted that decision. Quennin S’Kev, please come forward.”
Quennin stood up and walked up before Seth.
“You don’t have to do this, Seth.”
“But of course I do. Quennin, you once served Aktenzek alongside me, but you were struck down by the Bane, and the Choir abandoned you for that. You did not fail us. The Choir failed you. I failed you, and our failures led to the tragedy that followed. Quennin, with my powers as Sovereign, I pardon you of all crimes committed against the Alliance, and I humbly ask that you join my honor guard.”
Quennin fell to one knee and bowed her head. “Thank you, Seth.”
When Quennin had donned the Renseki coat and joined the others, Seth picked up the last uniform and stepped forward.
“There seems to be only one person left. Veketon, would you please come forward?”
Veketon stood up and walked over to Seth.
“I pardoned Quennin,” Seth said. “But you present a very different problem. How can I pardon one such as you? Do we even know all of your crimes?”
“No,” Veketon said. “Many of my transgressions have been hidden by time and my own manipulations.”
“Naturally. And so, I cannot pardon your crimes against the Forsaken.”
Veketon nodded at this. “I, of course, understand.”
“But a normal sentence would be such a waste for a person of your talents. Especially one who has shown such willingness to right his wrongs. None of us can deny your wisdom, intelligence, and experience. Are you willing to help undo the crimes you have committed against so many? Are you willing to rebuild a fractured humanity?”
“I am.”
“Then serve humanity as part of my honor guard. Lend us your wisdom as we reunite the societies you helped create. That is a most fitting punishment for your crimes, I think.”
“I do not deserve such mercy.”
“But will you accept it?”
Veketon knelt before Seth, Sovereign of Aktenzek.
“I do.”
* * *
The Sovereign and his new Renseki retreated to a private room within the residence, talking and mingling well into the night. Tesset was surprised to see the other pilots opening up with each other. Even Veketon contributed to the conversations, though he kept most of his comments terse.
They talked about the trials of the past and the challenges to come, and each reacted differently. Jared resembled a bright glowing cloud to her sense, and he helped calm the turbulent flows of Yonu’s aura. Vorin’s quiet confidence filled his brilliant, regal aura.
Seth’s aura positively glowed with optimism, both for this new path for the Aktenai and for his new Renseki. Quennin and Veketon remained guardedly hopeful, and as they began to open up more and more, Tesset could see the first hints of the bonds that would tie this honor guard together.
Still, this has got to be the most dysfunctional group of Renseki ever, she thought, hiding her smile from the others.
Vorin left first, citing morning discussions about power transitions and further deliberations with the Choir. He dipped his head to Seth and departed.
Quennin and Veketon left shortly thereafter. Quennin expressed her overwhelming gratitude to Seth before leaving, and Veketon, in expected fashion, wanted to discuss several reunification strategies he had just come up with.
“Tomorrow,” Seth said. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
Jared became increasingly boisterous with each drop of alcohol in his system, but Yonu orchestrated a retreat before his antics became too embarrassing. They both thanked Seth for such prestigious honors (Yonu more coherently than Jared) and retreated to guest rooms within the residence.
Finally, only Seth and Tesset remained in the small room.
“You know what?” she asked, walking over and sitting next to him.
“What?”
“You must have the most dysfunctional Renseki in history.”
“Oh, what makes you say that?”
“I mean, think about it. You have the previous Sovereign. You have one of the Original Eleven back from the dead. You have a former traitor who’s got part of the Bane swimming around in her head. And by the way, those two killed off all six of the previous Renseki, including the parents of one of the current Renseki. You’ve got an Earther. Oh, and me, a blind pilot. How many firsts do you think that is?”
“Hmm, you have a point,” Seth said. “But the most dysfunctional? I don’t know about that. I’ve done some research into past Renseki, and I may have to disagree with you there.”
“Oh really?”
“Have you ever heard of Sovereign Klarus zo Ritleen?”
“Uhh, nope. Never heard of him.”
“I’m not surprised,” Seth said. “He isn’t part of the official histories. And he didn’t have six Renseki. It was more like sixty, though the number fluctuated during his rather abbreviated reign. Most weren’t even pilots, and they were all young and female and, so the records say, quite attractive.”
“Ohh …”
“Yes. Quite.”
“But he didn’t have a blind pilot, did he?”
“Then there was the reign of Sovereign Attael Z’Reen, who preceded my father. She was assassinated by her own Renseki.”
“What? You’re kidding. I thought she and her Renseki died in battle against … wait … official histories?”
“Exactly. Vorin and my father dealt with the traitors personally. They were all accomplished pilots, and there were blood ties on both sides. The end was, you might say, quite tragic.”
