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| Illusion. Execution. Coronation. | | Illusion. Execution. Coronation. |
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| This is my testament of deserved power. | | This is my testament of power. |
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| The deed is done. We have achieved victory; claimed it from the formidable jaws of impossibility. We are now the rulers of this meagre slice of [[Forum:Kshiral|Kshiral]]. To think that we, an unlikely, unconventional alliance of the outcast and destitute could claim absolute power. Truly, Slyuvi smiles upon us all! I shall toll my Channeling Bell 13 times tonight, each a thanks and a prayer for healing, all in his most divine name. I have few doubts in my true and first liege, yet I find myself curious in how he bestows blessings upon his faithful.
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| Once we had claimed a sure victory over Rashkyn, our movement... how would I put it? Snowballed? Yes, indeed. By the time we had entered the city of Draemiil, our ranks increased tenfold, and it grew threefold once we had our way with that dilapidated, dust-swept favella, all disgruntled with the weak Polyphony whom tread upon that poor village worse than many. Sins of the father, or something like that. Centuries ago, Draemiil challenged Mialla, the seat of the Polyphony and war had engulfed the continent for long decades until Draemiil was torn asunder by Mialla's formidable Song-Knights. Since then, Draemiil has been paying steep reparations to the Polyphony, long since bled dry of resources and impoverished by their unfortunate condition. Draemiilan's have long since sought an opportunity for vengeance, even if the leader of the single greatest rebel movement was a former noble of the Polyphony. Me, however, I was found respected by many of Draemiil's residents for my dedication to Slyuvi, and I thus reciprocated such respect to such faithful people. Draemiil was said to be home of our great god-king Slyuvi when he was once mortal. To think that city had not only been formidable enough to last years against the might of the Song-Knights, but also had been the birthplace of our truest king... And all of it is naught but impoverished ruins. We, the truly faithful, had all gathered together and we all had vowed by blood to vindicate Draemiil's pain, for the city, or for our god.
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| Weeks followed, and the Polyphony was getting desperate. Getting disorganized. Getting unpredictable. Getting dangerous. So, we had to come up with a plan of grand proportion so as to mitigate such a strange hazard to confront. Warriors from towns and nations beyond were eager to fight, the mercenaries desperate to sink their beaks into anything. But we couldn't enter what could possibly be a meatgrinder without a plan. Folly would it be to run in and die unceremoniously and forgotten. To allow such a fetid nation to yet exist. Until one day. I had thought our would-be king had come before me to convert to our gracious god, to pray to our just, blood hungry god, or to, again, seek my psionic strength to empower him further. Instead, he had come to ME, personally, conviction and a plan in mind. I needed not Scrying Tolls or Oracular Etching to see it. He needed me for a move against the Polyphony. He had asked me if I could harness my power alongside Nikhra so as to create a spell that would draw away our enemy. Shamefully, must I admit, I had not realized his true intent without begging his pardon. He needed an illusion to draw away our hunters. Of course I could! Especially with Nikhra's aid, anything was possible with my psionic might. And so, that night, me and my... pagan associate had roused the olden spirits of the land and had conjured forth a false caravan to ever stalk the desolate lands, a perfect replica so as to make our attack on Mialla all the easier. Yet, as I had come to extend my thanks to the outcast sorceress, I instead was met with an ambivalent and unwelcoming gaze by my ally. I didn't pay it too much mind, just weirded out mostly. Perhaps this... outsider trusts not my faith in Slyuvi as many do. Perhaps she is just humble and doesn't want to hear a thanks from another person. Although, more and more, do I find myself believing that she is keeping her distance from me. Everyone, for that matter, is keeping their distance from me, save for Kaas-thrys. Since then, the very deed I had done had become an odd sensation fitting for how I feel my colleagues hide behind for me. Illusion. I shall be vigilant, even now.
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| Nevertheless, our king's plan had been the most fruitful! The Polyphony's guardian forces sought our false illusion, allowing us ingress into Mialla's outer territories. It took weeks, but our numbers continued to grow and trained to effectively counter the dirges of the Polyphony's High Singers and Song-Knights, and properly prepare for an effective coup, if not siege. Even in those weeks, we could see the people's outrage over the Polyphony, ever increasing with their failures to contain us. We could see the flightless and the songless all protesting the decrepit order in such number that their own peacekeeping forces couldn't resist. We had allies everywhere, and a people more than wanting for new leadership to supplant the old. When the movement was finally within striking range of that fine and rich city, we were ready.
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| Ah, Mialla, a city of marble spires built upon the foundation of great bismuth trees. Words alone cannot recount its splendor. Golden trimmed streets, artists and philosophers striding the streets, statues and facades as far as the eye can see and old temples treated with the utmost of respect. All of it twisted by the lies and greed of an old government begging for divine destruction. And divine destruction we indeed brought. With aid from the inside, we had breached the city and slaughtered the loyalists that opposed us. I am remiss to say it, but it was the most glorious of bloodbaths. The grandest of slaughter. The most deserved of destruction and death. I was enamored by such a spectacle, ever driven to the frontlines as the rest of us were. I'd say that Slyuvi drove me forward, yet I felt no divine presence overtake me as I dove into the blood-soaked avenues of that proud city, decapitating and sundering soldiery and knight alike with axe cleave and clangorous toll respectively. I had split stomachs apart, torn out wings, fried bodies to a spasm and vibrated to pieces all who opposed me. Were I driven by Slyuvi, such thoughts would not cling in my mind. A just being would not keep such thought in his faithful unless he sought to punish. But I know he wouldn't forsake me. He couldn't! Not his most faithful of disciples! No, he would never. Therefore, he only left me there. And as the screams of the damned haunted my mind, all I could think about was the terror of it all. But now as I contemplate the losses and death, I now know the truth. It was only ever me. He had taught me not to forever rely on him. He had taught me to unleash my power on my own accord, without aid, and without beckoning. And now, all I am is grateful. Thankful.
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| The day had come. Mialla had fallen to us. The royal palace smashed to pieces and the royal guard slaughtered to a man; a rebel who, too, saw the weakness of the throne. And as we dragged out the mewling, begging aristocrats who had engineered our misery from their rich nests, we had half a mind to throw them out to the ravenous mob that had followed us to victory. Kaas-thrys, however, had stayed our hands, stating that they had relished the sight of the axes' blade beheading others, it was only fitting that is how they should end. And so, I was charged with the death of all royalty, all governors, all the loyal choir and all the still loyal, however I saw fit. At first, I was appalled and shocked at such a commission. We had the old general Varhyn and those loyal to him. We had the newly established guard. We even could have used the sorceries of Nikhra to see the deed done. Yet they would charge a priestess to such a deed. I wanted to be a celebrant first and warrior as a last resort. Yet, I had reflected on the past, on the suffering of ages before. I had thought of Draemiil and the rubble-strewn streets within. I had thought of those slaughtered by Polyphony kill squads. I had thought of my own parents, the agony of their psionic imprint left behind, and the death of my own siblings. I had thought of Slyuvi, my only truest charge, and offered prayer for guidance as to what needed to be done. But I needed no prayer for an answer. I knew what he would demand. What all would demand. So when that day had come, when I had dragged each of those bloated leeches out before the rabid crowd outside, I had roused them with prayers to our true god, felt the desire of all, chimed my sacred bell in supplication and ritual and charged my king's axe with my own psionic might. Long had I wanted to change who I was before, a survivor and an errant, passive adherent. But I had felt a new desire. A change I now realize was essential this whole time. I could never achieve power by mere devotion alone. I couldn't just pray for power. I would work for it. It is only fitting for a servant of a warrior king. And much like those foul parasites at that chopping block, in an instant, at once and with pure conviction and a single swing, my old self had been vanquished. Destroyed. EXECUTED. The excitement of the crowd had deafened me, joining my own thoughts. Ecstatic at the execution of everything.
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| And with the death of an old king, a new one took its place. Kaas-thrys had claimed everything needed for the throne. A crown, approval, a party of those he alone could trust. Varhyn had been reinstated as General of our armies, Ikaria his pathfinder and explorer, Nikhra leader of the High Singers and Sethiir his vizier and court sage. I too had found kingly appointment as well. As a king needs divine right to rule and a kingdom needs a faith to guide the masses, he had appointed me as pontiff of our new kingdom, to ever drive our people to excellence through not just loyalty, but also faith. I had embraced my new position with open arms. Is such a promotion from simple wretch convert to head of a new faith too much? Perhaps. But I had found it ALL deserving. The people need a faith to guide them. They need an example to follow within such a demanding faith. They need me. They need me as much as a king does. And so, as pontiff of our new kingdom, I had ordained him the rightful ruler by Slyuvi's grace. With rancorous applause, as it should for a true child of our god-king, was this coronation forever marked. But this is a Coronation for me as much as it is for Kaas-thrys. And now, we have a new realm to lord. A new age to lead. A most omnipotent and gracious god-king to appease.
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| May these events forever be sung in purifying song. May a new glorious golden age befall this new kingdom and a people finding a graceful light. May Slyuvi judge us all worthy.
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| ==—Acceptance—== | | ==—Acceptance—== |