As the Master of Ceremonies, it was Varda’s honor to preside over the assembly that night. As such, he watched those gathering in the Great Hall with a bit of nervous anticipation. He had a strange feeling that he couldn’t explain, and it was an important meeting as delegates from Promethea and other nations would be attending. Once everyone had relatively made it to their seats, Varda cleared his throat with a sip of wine and called out to the assembly, “If you would all settle—Speaker Galias will take the floor!” Not one to prattle, Galias jumped right in, “To start, thank you all for joining tonight. We understand that due to the sudden nature of this assembly, not everyone was able to attend. That said, we appear to be in the beginning stages of an international crisis. For a little over a week now, reports of navigational errors have been coming in from all around Zhorren. Thus far, it seems to have only affected long distance journeys and has been easy enough to correct, but there are concerns that it will get worse. While we are yet to understand the nature of the phenomenon, it appears that using the stars for navigation is becoming less reliable. Our most immediate concerns are how this will impact trade and-” “Pardon Speaker, but what of the war in Luthania? Our brothers and sisters are being put to death by the thousands. Is that not a more urgent matter?” Lady Adalyne interrupted with flustered cheeks and eyes nearly as tight as her voice. In a measured tone, Galias said, “While I assure you the Luthanian’s tribulations weigh heavy on our hearts, Lady Adalyne—there is only so much we can do without threatening our neutrality in world politics.” “Damn politics and the ancient Laws of Neutrality!” Lady Adalyne snapped, the affront in her voice clear. “The world is changing around us. Can’t you see this is a religious war to the Conquerate? Everywhere they raise their banners—followers of the One Faith are persecuted. And yet, we assemble to discuss navigation errors?” Ambassador Khalif, an envoy from the Sands, responded before anyone else could, “If you think the inability to navigate our world is trivial, then you’re even more of a fool than your father.” “My father gave his life for this city!” Lady Adalyne declared. “Easy now,” Baeloryth, the monarch of Leonis, interjected before things got more serious. The cleverly designed acoustics easily carried his voice across the Great Hall to silence the whispers that had begun to stir. “We have not gathered to sling insults or diminish one another’s concerns. As always, our first and foremost duty is to protect our world from incursions, which,” he looked directly at Lady Adalyne, “is why the Law of Neutrality was written in the first place. The last time we allowed ourselves to be dragged into the conflicts of other nations, it nearly cost us everything.” Bowing toward the table reserved for Baeloryth and his advisers, Lady Adalyne said, “Forgive me, sire, but that was nearly two-millennia ago. The world is not what it was.” “Perhaps, but that does not mean we should easily forget the lessons of the past. Our forebearer’s wrote the Edict of Law for a reason. And, regardless of how it chafes against us now, their wisdom has safeguarded our cause for generations.” He became quiet and his gaze traveled over the assembly. “Everyone knows what happened that last time the Imperium became embroiled in world politics—it took well over a thousand years for civilization to claw its way back from the dark. We should keep that in the back of our mind when tempted to lift our hand to another.” Senator Gom, a man who had been around for so long that he’d be considered old in a room full of elders, said, “What are we to do when another lifts theirs against us? Turning the other cheek is a bad plan if that hand is holding a sword.” “While it pains me to know our brothers and sisters are suffering not far from our borders, the King is right. What happens if another incursion breaks out?” Varda asked. “Not far from our borders?” Councilman Jhuan Vob asked with a bit of sarcasm. “You do realize that the nearest Conquerate activity is more than twenty-three-hundred kilometers away, do you not?” “Yes, but how far were they from our borders last year?” Lady Adalyne countered. “And what of the year before that? Are we really to standby and do nothing until they encroach upon our lands?” Looking to the king, “Sire, if you would permit me to take the floor.” Baeloryth nodded and she joined Galias and Varda on the floor. Resonating her mind with the Great Hall’s control stone, she dimmed the lights and activated the world map. Then there was a small pop and a noise that sounded like the worlds tinniest bell had been rung. A moment later, the stone floor behind her rippled and began to move in a way that water did not. It rose up, flowing into and out of itself, taking on the shapes of familiar landmasses, rivers, and streams until a map of their world Zhorren had taken shape. With a few gestures she zoomed in, causing the features of the map to rapidly shift. Then she outlined the borders of Leonis, their homeland, in a green glow. With another gesture she did the same for the distant nation of Luthania, but marked it yellow. Lastly, she outlined the borders of the Conquerate’s original territory in orange, while using varying shades of red to denote their expansion over the last seven years, explaining some of their key conquests as she went. “They have claimed the lives of more than a million followers of the One Faith in the last five years. People like you and me, like your children, like my sister…are being dragged from their homes and put down in the streets like vermin,” her voice was raw and her fist was clenched tight at her side. “Then they are strung up as a reminders to the rest. Countless others are sent to Rehabilitation Camps. Publicly tortured—while their loved ones are forced to watch. Their only escape is to renounce their faith and live as second-class slaves. Or die!” she finished sounding bitter and angry. Keeping her head high and shoulders back, Lady Adalyne looked around to all those assembled in Great Hall. There were tears in her eyes now. Being close friends, Varda knew they weren’t a sign of weakness, but of empathy for all those that had been lost, of determination and will, of emotions so deep and intense that she couldn’t keep them trapped inside any longer—so they had leaked out through her eyes as a challenge to the rest of the assembly. None took that challenge, however. They all stayed quiet; all except for Baeloryth, who had approached them on floor. Placing a hand on Lady Adalyne’s shoulder, he met her gaze and held it. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he made a strained expression and gripped her hard enough to cause her to gasp. His wide, honey colored eyes milked over and turned white like opals. Then he made a strange jerking motion and began to spasm. When his fingers dug into Lady Adalyne’s shoulder and broke the skin, she made a pained noise and knocked his hand back, only to see a piece of her dress tear away with it. “Sire?” the question in Lady Adalyne’s voice seemed to reflect the feelings of all those present. There was blood running down her shoulder, and she was forced to hold her dress in place, so it didn’t fall off. When Baeloryth started to fall, Lady Adalyne stepped in to catch him, but he shoved her, causing her to stumble. She tripped, landing painfully on the edge of the massive, three dimensional map that had been formed out of the floor. By this point, genuine panic was beginning to spread throughout the Great Hall and someone had called for a healer, but before anyone could get close, Lady Adalyne’s shout cut through the commotion. “No one touch him! He’s having a vision!” Her words brought the room to a stop just as Baeloryth dropped to a knee and began to mumble incoherently. To all present, it appeared as if he was trying to look at something above him, something no one else could see. Whatever it was, it must have been impossibly bright. ———————————————————— High above Baeloryth, atop a throne of fire and ice, was a being of radiant burning light. He was so eclipsed by her immortal beauty that his eyes were drawn to her as if by gravity. And though he found her painful to behold, it took an act of will to shield his eyes and look away. It felt like he was kneeling before Avar or another mighty star—there was an odd sense of being dangerously close, yet impossibly far away. “Pay heed mortal king, for ruination has come upon us. Long ago, in a multi-verse so ancient that few remember it existed, a lonely old women uttered a dying prophecy to nothing and no one, because that was all that remained in her world. She foretold of a coming, of a day like night, when stillness would creep through womb and egg, and a world would weep more tears than rain. However, it was not just mothers of men she saw lamenting their loss, but insect and beast and everything alike. On that day, The Omega’s seed will be born amongst you. If this child is allowed to reach the age of maturity, and loses the battle within, then he will sow the seeds of the end.” “How am I supposed to find him?” Baeloryth asked as a strong gale began to pick up and blow against him. “You, along with seven others, and one whom once was, have been chosen to receive a blessing that will become a curse. Should you choose to accept it, you will be granted the power to look beyond yourself and pierce the veil, to peer into what is, what was, and what will be; however, it will come at a great cost.” Godsight. Baeloryth thought with a chill. In the old tongue it was called Tharuen Ghotta, which meant Eye of Eternity. He had seen the skittering, barley lucid wrecks that the gift had left of the blessed. The simple truth is there was just too much to comprehend. Too much to see. Too many worlds and futures and pasts and possibilities. Too many people and creatures and things happening at once. Perhaps the Sister’s of Shaleer could teach him to manage it, to hold onto himself just a little longer, but even then… “If I accept this gift, what am I supposed to do once I find him?” The wind was blowing so hard by then that Baeloryth could feel his hair and cloak whipping about, and so he raised his voice to ensure he was heard. “You already know. Now, decide.” “What if the Chosen reject this offer? Will that change things? Will you choose others?” “Your time here is running short, mortal king. The die of fate have been cast and your world stands at the fulcrum of events that will reshape realities. Now, choose!” it demanded as the wind picked up even more. “I accept,” Baeloryth cried out, struggling to be heard, feeling as if the distance between him and the being was growing farther. “Then so be it. The choice has been given. And a choice has been made,” her voice deepened and the celestial realm around them melted away to reveal a hellish landscape of fire and magma and tortured screams. As Baeloryth looked around in horror, he saw the once angelic being now looked like an Infernal Queen. It sat not atop a throne of fire and ice, but one made from the tormented that had been grafted together and cried out in agony as she sat atop them. “Use the sight to prepare your people and shepherd them through the tribulations to come, king,” she hissed the last word with a smile that made Baeloryth’s blood run cold. By that point the wind was tearing at him violently as if it was trying to drag him away—even though it was already too late. Baeloryth’s last fading thought, before being overtaken by a darkness deeper than sleep, was that she had called him king the last time…