Book of The Dead

Chapter B6C3 - Ruinous Power

Merigold hadn’t said much in the past few days. What was there to say? How was she to say it? And to whom? Honoured Stennis was many things, a platinum ranked warrior of the Empire, a personal servant of the Emperor and highly capable in any number of fields, but a conversationalist, he was not.

No matter how she tried, the vision of Tyron Steelarm, swords stuck in his guts and through his ribs, hanging from chains and nails driven through his hands, eyes alive with hate and rage as he swore to kill the gods themselves would not leave her mind. It haunted her awake or asleep, as they travelled, while she ate.

He had told her why, as well. He had watched as his father killed his mother, then committed suicide. Right in front of him. All so they would not be forced to kill their only child.

In that moment, he had determined that he would destroy everyone and everything responsible for the loss of his family, no matter the cost.

Even worse, she could sympathise with him. He was in pain, he was grieving what he saw as unjust and unjustified. He was determined that someone would have to pay the price. Yet the conclusions he had come to were monstrous. How many would have to die, would have to suffer, in order for him to complete his rampage? To bring down the Empire would be to endanger millions upon millions of citizens.

There were over ten million living in the Imperial Province alone!

Suffering on such an unimaginable scale was... impossible to grasp. He didn’t care. Worse, he had declared the Empire was worse than he could ever be?

Merigold was more than willing to admit she had been... uncomfortable with what had happened to the Western Province. Such purges were not issued lightly, and she was confident the Imperial Court had pursued all other avenues before committing to such a brutal solution to the corruption and uprising in the West.

The integrity of the Empire and the mission of The Five could not be compromised. This was for the safety of the entire world.

Right?Never in her entire life had Merigold ever doubted for a single second that this was true. Not as a child, not as a student, not as an adult working in an obviously flawed and intractable administration. Never.

But now...

“He was insane, wasn’t he,” she said aloud.

A question, or a statement? Perhaps a mix of both. She stared into the crackling fire Stennis had made for them, hoping that he could offer her the certainty she couldn’t find for herself.

“He was, and is,” he said, with nothing but iron certainty in his voice.

It was exactly what she had wanted to hear, yet it didn’t comfort her as much as she had hoped it would. Despite the things he had said, the Necromancer didn’t seem mad. He was in pain, filled with bottomless grief and endless fury, lashing out at things so much bigger than himself. Was that enough to count him as insane?

Certainly, he had done things that were unforgivable in the eyes of the law, and of the gods. Tyron Steelarm would die for his crimes, but she hoped for more than that. She hoped he was truly insane, that the things he believed were delusions.

Central to that doubt and worry was the conversation that had gone entirely over her head, and over the heads of the guards who had been present in that tent. They had discussed knowledge, Stennis and the Necromancer, things that only the platinum ranked knew.

“Stennis...” she began, but he looked at her the moment she opened her mouth, as if he knew exactly what she wanted to ask about.

Something about the coldness is his eyes warned her not to speak.

“It’s not something that we can discuss. If I answered your questions, you would be considered a heretic and killed by the Church.”

“You know the answers,” she said softly, staring deep into the flames.

“I do,” he replied heavily.

Seated on a log, he reached out to test the fish he was grilling over the flames. As much as it shamed her, Merigold didn’t know anything about living rough or travelling across the land, and her uselessness was reinforced to her every day. To make good time, she was even forced to cling onto Stennis’s back as he ran—a humiliating experience.

“Before any of us are allowed to ascend to platinum rank, we undergo a strict training regimen to fortify our hearts, minds and bodies. It was five years after I reached the peak of Gold before I was granted my promotion.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Once he had begun speaking, it seemed as if he wasn’t able to stop. The words flowed out of him in a quiet, soft voice as he spoke directly into the flame.

“I was selected at a young age, and I’m significantly older than you might think. After undergoing training, I was accepted into the Golden Legion and served there for ten years, starting when I was fourteen.”

“You didn’t have a Class at that age,” she noted.

“No. The Empire's soldiers start developing their skills before their Ascension, and I was no different. Only those who reach the standard and receive an acceptable Class at eighteen are allowed to actually serve. Most fail.”

That seemed as though it might have been a dramatic understatement.

“After being accepted, we undergo psychological preparation. Years of meditating, training, praying, and only then are we allowed into the rifts to fight. From the time I was eighteen to the time I was twenty four, I killed kin, being levelled at an accelerated pace. Those who weren’t able to keep up were forced out or died.”

Such a matter of fact statement. Who’s to say how many of his comrades had fallen along the way? Even Merigold had never seen those numbers. Only the Military Bureau had access to data related to the Golden Legion. Anyone platinum ranked fell above even that level of authority.

Honoured Stennis continued to stare deep into the flames, occasionally turning the fish.

“I did well,” he said simply. “By the time I reached level seventy nine, I had already been selected. At that time, I was separated from everyone and everything I had ever known. I renounced my family, turned my back on my friends and comrades and ritually burned all of my possessions. I even sacrificed my name.

“Isolated, beyond even the borders of this world, I was conditioned and prepared for the Ascension. Everything that had come before was nothing compared to what I endured in that time. The tests were relentless, my faith in The Five pushed to its limits along with my skills. At times, I wasn’t sure if I was asleep or awake. Illusion magick, mental invasions, everything was done to ensure my loyalty and belief were beyond reproach, an unbreakable foundation on which my service would be built.

“Only after enduring all of this was I allowed to ascend. Do you understand? These secrets are not given to just anyone. Only those who have been thoroughly prepared are permitted to take on the trial and reach platinum rank. We are not branded to prevent us from speaking of what we experienced, but my loyalty and devotion to the Empire bind me just as strongly. I will never speak of it, even on pain of death. Do not ask me to speak of it.”

Having said his piece with a heavy sense of finality, he reached out and took the fish from the flames. Impaled lengthwise on a stick, gutted and scaled, it was a miserable-looking thing, but the sweet smell of its flesh was enough to awaken Merigold’s appetite.

“You don’t need to eat?” she asked him.

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing the fish into her hands. “Let it cool before you eat.”

“I know that much,” she grumbled to herself before blowing on the meat.

“Perhaps you can tell me something, instead,” Stennis said as she began to eat.

Merigold raised a brow. What could she possibly know that someone of his station wouldn’t? He was far above her, quite literally so, someone who served within the Palace of Ascension.

“I’m uncertain what the reaction of the court will be upon our return. I’m sure they are already aware something has gone wrong with the expedition, but won’t know exactly what until we have returned.”

As much as she didn’t want to think about the Imperial Court, and had been doing an admirable job of avoiding doing so up until this point, Merigold reluctantly turned her mind to the task. It would be wise to have a strategy in place before they returned, one they both agreed upon. Though, when she considered the likely outcomes, her prospects seemed bleak.

“I don’t imagine anything will befall you. You have done your duty and kept me alive,” she said. “Nobody could reprimand you or claim you didn’t do your utmost to follow your orders.”

“I am not concerned for myself, Lady Herimar,” Stennis said softly.

Was he worried for her? She felt a slight warmth blossom inside her heart at the thought, though it quickly grew cold.

“Someone will have to take the blame, that is how the Imperial Court functions. Success is rewarded, failure is punished. Unless the Emperor himself extends his hand to protect me, and I don’t see why he would, then I will be the one to suffer for this failure.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine how it would happen. The Military Administration would be up in arms, calling for her head. They would claim that her interference in their affairs was the reason for the catastrophic loss, and with only her voice against theirs, the chorus demanding her downfall would be deafening.

Alliances, long established between the High Nobles, would come into play, along with a slew of backroom deals. The end result being the Council sentencing her to death, or perhaps they would be merciful and stuff her into an out of the way convent in the North to serve the rest of her days in penance. Disgraced, her family would likely be demoted, perhaps pushed from the capital entirely.

“If it wasn’t for you, that battle would have been a one-sided massacre,” Stennis said, an undertone of anger in his voice.

“Reality doesn’t determine outcomes within the Court,” Merigold said, unable to hold back her bitterness.

She had believed that it did, once. Why else would she, and so many others, have spent endless hours poring through the data, reading the countless documents, compiling the gathered knowledge of an Empire year after year? If it didn’t matter, if the solid, established facts didn’t matter, then what was the point?

Perhaps the Necromancer was right. Anything built on such a shifting foundation was destined to die. A tower of delusion.

Her brief time dealing with politics had taught her just how little the truth really mattered within the court. It was not a happy realisation.

“Regardless, I suppose we will find out soon enough,” she said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Stennis nodded heavily. “We will reach the central province tomorrow.”

She turned away from the fire and looked to her right. In the distance, the broken ruins of Kenmor towered high overhead. Almost, she could hear the screams of the wailing spirits.