Part 6: The Voice of the Righteous
Through silver in blood, we stand judged not by eyes of flesh when transit times cross, prey visions consumed.
- Neurosis, Through Silver in Blood
The mirrors spanning the main corridor in the Imperial Palace reflected the visage Councilman Hendelman as he nervously hurried through the cavernous structure. The walls, floor, and ceilings of the hallway were covered with giant mirrors designed explictly to make one feel disoriented as they walked towards the main chamber.
He was a blonde Majini of normal height, not ugly but not anything too special to look at. Yet it wasn’t his phenotype which made him special. As an Imperial Councilman, he was one of the most privileged individuals in all Majinia. A Councilman could override the decisions of a provincial governor, and in certain circumstances, a High General. The Council ruled much of the day to day affairs of the Empire, passing the mundane laws that affected the lives of the greater citizenry. Their laws were then enforced by the governors who often adapted them to fit local needs. As long as the borders were secure and the tax money came in, the Council was willing to allow this degree of regional autonomy.
The laws of the Council could of course at any time be overruled by the Emperor. In recent times, he had generally restricted himself to performing a handful of very select duties, many of them purely ceremonial. Still, he retained absolute control over every aspect of the government, and the Council knew that their own power was only wielded at his discretion.
I wonder what could be so important that the Emperor would convene the Council right in the Palace. The Council usually met in a building about a mile away from the Palace, and the Emperor rarely attended its deliberations. When he did, it was either for special occasions or when the state was in crisis. But to call the Council to meet with the imperial personage in the Palace itself? One would think that there was an army at the gates of the capitol. Relations were always tense with the neighboring Empires of Canada and Kijuju, but there had not been overt hostilities with them for some time. The only open combat had been with small powers to the west and south, but they were no threat to Majinia. So why did the Emperor want to meet with the Council in the dead of night in a manner than reflected only the gravest of tidings?
Entering the throne room through two doors of solid diamond, Hendelman took his seat with the rest of the Councilors. Jewels adorned the high walls of the Palace, and banners hung from the ceiling displaying the royal crest; a Cephalo wrapping itself around the Earth. Light shone through stained glass windows bearing images of Majinia’s greatest rulers. The Councilmen’s chairs were seated around a semi-circular table that wrapped around a raised section of the floor supporting the Emperor’s ivory throne.
“All rise for his Imperial Majesty, Wesker XIV, Emperor of All Majinia, Protector of All Plagas, Chosen of Mokoroth!”
Through a door to the right of the throne came the Emperor, dressed from head to toe in armor carved from elephant bone. Behind him came his elite Ivory Guard, each with a rifle slung over their shoulder and a scimitar at their side. Wesker made his way to the throne and sat down slowly, his face giving off no expression except the cold sneer of command. The fact that he was named Wesker was auspicious, as his physical features mimicked those of Albert Wesker almost perfectly, but for the exception of copper-colored skin and jet-black hair.
“Sit” he said in an emotionless voice. The Councilors immediately took their seats, waiting to hear what he would say next. In a conversation with the Emperor, it was protocol that he be given the first and last word.
“I’m sure all of you have heard about our defeat at Godhand by the forces of those mongrels in Godface. Troops have been sent to reinforce our southern border, but with all of the enemies that the Empire faces, we cannot spare many troops to set up long term fortifications. Thus, it is my will that we initiate a plan for the immediate conquest of Godface.”
The Councilors were not able to hide their surprise. With Godhand out of Majinian control, an invasion would have been incredibly costly and difficult.
“Beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” said one Councilman, “but we just do not have the resources for such an undertaking. If we were to divert a legion or two from the northern border, Canada would see this as an opportunity to grab some of our land. The Empire’s prestige has been damaged enough without us losing territory by involving ourselves in a war whose outcome would not be certain.”
“And do we even want to rule Godface directly?” asked another. “Given its mixed population, the city would be a constant source of instability. Also, it has proven to be a very effective buffer state against raiders from Mexico. There is a reason why Irving the Great did not conquer these lands; they are too desolate, too poor, and too dangerous. We Majini should stake our claim in the civilized world.”
“I do not agree” replied the Emperor. It was a simple enough statement, but everyone shut their mouths. One did not make a reply to the Emperor unless it was quite that he had finished speaking his mind. To do so otherwise risked death. Wesker spoke in a soft, reverent tone that reflected his great personal piety. Some were considering having him named Wesker the Holy after his incredible devotion to Kitabuan teachings.
“Majinia is more than just a political state, but it is instead an idea; nay, it is a divine mission. We Majini are the superior life-forms on this planet, and it has been decreed in the Holy Kitabu that our people shall have dominion over the entire Earth. All shall partake in the glorious communion in the Majini hive.”
He paused for a second, staring out across the two dozen or so Councilors. They were all listening intently, but he knew that they did not all agree with him. It was a more secular age than those of his forebears, and many of the Councilmen saw the Empire as little more than a bureaucratic mechanism to gain wealth and power.
The price of power is decadence. This is why Majinia can never become like the godless Siberia, with its technocratic outlook and lack of respect for divinely-ordained authority. The Empire needs a single ruler at its helm, one who will interpret the commands of God correctly and do his will. One who will not bend to the trends of the age. One who will lead the Majini to true righteousness. One…like myself.
“Godface is not just another city,” he continued, “but a holy temple dedicated to Mokoroth himself. How can a place as holy as this be ruled by the abominable filth that now dwell in its walls? The great tower of that city should be filled with priests giving praise for Mokoroth all day long, not be the toilet of some disgusting Tyrant.”
“These are the days spoken of in the Kitabu Cha Mngu, the days of sloth and vanity that would test our faith. Yes, removing troops from borders will make us vulnerable. But Mokoroth will provide if we do His Will. A city which is built in the image of the Supreme should not be defiled by maggots!”
“But to take the city is impossible!” cried out one Councilman. A deathly chill fell over the room. At any given second, the Emperor could have ordered the Councilor’s death for interrupting the imperial voice.
Wesker however was undaunted and plowed forward with his speech.
“Plans have been set into motion which shall hopefully minimize bloodshed on the part of out soldiers. But whether one soldier falls or a thousand, it is all part of the Divine’s great tapestry of the universe.”
By now the Emperor was in a furor, screaming out his words and frothing at the mouth.
“We now stand at the gates of Heaven! Who is a better judge of our actions; Majini or Mokoroth? We shall burn our enemies, and the world shall be cleansed in the blood of the righteous! Stand with me now as we purify Godface and show ourselves worthy of the great secular power that has been bestowed upon us! We are Majini, we are God’s Chosen, our victory written in the fabric of the cosmos. All for God!”
The Emperor arched his head back and gave out a piercing, inhuman screech. Blood poured from his eyes and mouth, and tendrils lashed out between his jaws and flailed towards the sky. All around the room, the Councilmen joined Wesker in this monstrous display of piety, their voices joining together to form a tremendous howl; a sound born of primal rage and a religiosity far deeper than anything the most fanatical human zealot could have ever imagined, a sound which split the quiet of the night and made the heavens weep.
Sat Apr 22, 2023 9:34 pm by 
