A gentle, warm breeze swept through Terrianis, rustling the velvety shawl tinted wine red at its edges, azure at its detailed surface. Its myriad tassels ending in golden, scribed with runes fluttered against the deep, imperial purple robe draped finely across his body, cinched by an earthly brown girdle with the gilded shield at its junction point, engraved with an owl sweeping down towards its prey.
Slowly, he approached the rail and looked over down from the highest box. In past days, he would have been thrilled, stirred even by the sight of the tens of thousands down at the rounding tiered seats, their rising, their cohesive clapping, their thunderous hailing spilling out from the grand colosseum erected by one of his own son, three centuries ago. It should all have felt intoxicating, yet felt dishonest. He could feel neither, instead as a cloud passed above them, the shadow weakened his legs and he quivered a little, taking deep breaths.
“Welcome, our good people of our magnificent Luth-Astaril! We hope you all await eagerly the coming bloodletting; we all deserve the luxury of such an event after these past tumultuous days, weeks, months and years.” Terrianis relapsed into silence, holding his arms high whilst his gaze swept through the crowd. For miniscule seconds, the shadows dimmed, their eyes hollowed as the emptiness crawled into them and their smiles lost all hint of emotion, sensation they experienced in those moments. Then as if a spark lit up, banished the dark, all seemed normal to him. He breathed slowly, conjured a heat within his majestic form, demisting his clammy body.
“We shall not lie to you all. These past years, challenges were abound and plenty against our peaceful, prosperous lives and hegemony all done by the same enemy holed in His dark pit in the accursed mountains of Dhaugruz.” Slowly, Terrianis imbued each of his word with the prima materia of Mind and Dawn whilst pointing towards the distant north.
The spell of hope laced each syllable forming a word, stirring all listening and watching, manifesting in each of them as simple, honest warm feeling bordering on love. Upon stopping, he noticed now honest smiles from the children, claps from a few unruly adults who could not contain their imposed feelings. Low cheers bayed huskily in the three sections of grandstands, each stretching in a nine-cornered, elongated circle of the same marble constituting the whole magnificent structure. White marble, so the long and curving seats stood out in their earthly brown splendor.
“And I am afraid this is only the beginning of their vile plans to shatter our dreams, the start of our woes. But fear not our good citizens, we know now well the tricks of the Enemy, and we shall not let them ruin our peace, we shall let them not sow the seeds of chaos onto our lands. We shall prevail over them, as we had prevailed over the grim monarch of Twilight as the One and the Eight smiles upon us all, showering us in their grace even in the darkest of hours.” A mirthful smile across his lips curved, upon hearing the satisfying rattle of armor behind him as his presence grew. Looking down, this sensation strengthened within Terrianis, noticing the meek countenances on his own children, the nobilos in their lofty suites, and the plebeian and lesser merchants who reflexively clutched their lesser kin in the shadow of an Apex.
Except for one, sitting above the entrance right across Terrianis. One wearing voluminous black robes and a red stola, their countenance hidden beneath the imposing hood, yet from their hands he could tell they were an aetherkiin. Hands with seven and six fingers, constituting of pure, unaltered materia with billowing streaks arising like mist or smoke disturbing the air and space wherever they trod. Thither he could have smitten down the enemy, yet his mind froze, and no matter how much he tried, he could not remit, tear away his gaze from the lone figure noticed only by him. But he shown no fear to him, only the predatorial smile of a hunter.
“We were contempt living in lies of our own making, believing that we were through the thick bog of war, except for the last still ahead. We were satisfied with what we have gained in the centuries since the collapse of our old realms, since the titanic walls of Thrauy were penetrated and our brave legionaries ceased the last of the heretical cities and for that we nearly given, delivered the victory to our enemies who have released the Blight of Taerebus upon our doorstep and let the wolf disguise itself as one of the honest, brave lambs, whispering its lies before long turning the flock against itself in a harrowing day, where our own failure grew most apparent.” Terrianis grew silent.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
The people followed his example, though their whispers permeated not just the grandstands, but the lanes, streets and the abodes of Luth-Astaril and beyond as his voice crossed land, first as whispers than as if he stood beside all citizens of the Isles. His silence broke first, as he murmured a whisper to the Almodo, to the Dawnfather, to the Beloved Mother, to the Sculptor of Minds and Hands and all the rest of the Eight, his gaze focused down as he prayed to the sleeping divines.
Then Terrianis’s eyes sprung upon as he looked up and loomed over the rails of the opulent suite. The Shadow lingered no more across him, leering from beneath its dark, voluminous hood. An honest, triumphant smirk adorned his chiseled countenance as he continued, reigning in his feelings. “We ask not for your forgiveness for our folly. Nor we wish to speak of excuses, we are remorseful for it, but instead of words showering useless words or promises, we shall let our acts decide whether you find forgiveness in your hearts.”
His gaze swept past not just those in the Colosseum, but to the people across the Island, many whom ceased plowing the bountiful lands, trimming the radiant foliage of the warm, broad mélange of the Dawn. “Here this land was promised to us to be bountiful, to be peaceful where we would never have to fear what lurks beyond. This was the assumption of our father… my father and many of all the good folk who sacrificed their blood and sweat when they started their endeavor that blossomed into our great Empire. A belief which persisted up until today, as I share this with all of you, our beloved people. This is a day, an hour that shall be forever remembered in the annals of Elhyrissian, a day when we wrench the threads of Fate all together, and I Terrianis Julitae Elhyrissiar vow to rest not until a bright and peaceful future is a certainty to all the good peoples of Elhyrissian. Not just of the Empire, but of the confused and na?ve children of the Forests, of the Nomads trailing the colorful deserts, and even those blinded by the Veil of Night.” He leaned hard onto the rail, shouted with same zeal and energy as his father when he gathered the Company of the Eight Hundred before they marched against the Grim Sovereign.
A united hail permeated the colosseum, accompanied by claps, pouring into the streets and beyond with his voice, with his searing emotions that stirred all those down below him.
Then as he focused, the hails slowly withered away and all eyes moved towards the entrances high at the edges, vomiting out the white stairs. Slight tremors shook the citizens and at first, their murmurs filled the air. “Fear not brothers. A war is coming, we shall not omit that from you. It is something you yourselves know deeply though we are sure of it. But I promise this too, victory shall be achieved as our ranks grow by a legion,” Terrianis went silent amidst the sonata of marching tin legionaries.
“A legion created by myself, my son and his disciples. Let us introduce you the Legion of Talos, whose loyalty are as ceaseless as their endurance.” From the shadows, metallic silhouettes of proud legionaries walked forth with seamless motions. Many looked inquisitively, gasping once the seen through the deceptive painting and lifelike movement. Their armors shone with the same golden brilliance of the First’s, whilst their hands all bore varied tones, and the paint’s arkhaine nature endowed fleshy qualities upon their metallic membranes, hewn clothes. Their visages hid behind the helmets granting them an air of mystery, whilst their varied heights, silhouettes symbolized the unity of races under the umbrella of the Empire. Some even had tails like certain demi-kins.
“With this legion and the Chosen accompanied by my dear brother, we shall slay the Night, and usher into the next and last age, the Age of Eternal Dawn. May the Dawn soothe your dreams my dear brothers and sisters!” His voice boomed across the capital, the waters around the island stirred braced by his infectious enthusiasm.
For a few minutes he let the crowd bellow out their joys he instilled with his voice, before raising his hands once more, relapsing them into silence. “But for now, enough of my words I have imposed upon you good citizens of the Caesselis Isles. Let the games begin!”
