Devourer

Yael felt his mouth go dry as he stared at the Confessor's ornate gold armour. The Confessors and Inquisitors served Archangel Sylvana. Most who were under their purview did not live to tell the tale. They were the guilty until proven innocent sort…

Yael stood up rather shakily as he glanced at the sizeable serrated spear and gulped as he gazed at the cruel edge of the blade. It was an ornate weapon specifically designed to humiliate its opponent.

It had large hooks on the blade and the flange below it. The blade was designed to grab and hook opponents quickly. The end goal was relatively simple: the enemy ended up face-first in the dirt, and they then got skewered like fish. The stakes used to impale heretics were also shaped like their spears.

“Come with me, the High Confessor wishes to speak with you.” the Confessor said.

Yael nodded mutely as he followed after him. The walk felt like he was marching to the gallows. He couldn’t tell what the Confessor was thinking thanks to his faceless helmet.

At least the walk wasn’t far, just a five-minute walk away was the infirmary. The first thing he noticed was the scream. He looked over at one of the medical tents and saw a woman and man being dragged out. They looked starved and sick, but the two Confessors did not seem to care. They were roughly thrown into the mud, and the two Confessors readied their spears.

“Please we didn’t know. She was just a woman. We thought she was afraid, so she was hiding!” the man begged as he threw himself at the Confessor’s feet.

“Worm.” the Confessor spat as his armoured feet smashed into the man’s face. There was sickening crunch as his head was thrown back.

Yael winced as he saw a mouthful of bloody tooth fragments clattered out of his mouth. His nose was completely caved in, and his right cheekbone was utterly shattered.

The woman screamed as she tried to shield the man but the other Confessor drove his foot into her chest, shattering half her ribs with a sickening crack. She toppled backwards into the mud as she coughed out a mouthful of blood and gasped for breath.

“Feigning innocence, the first thing the guilty do.” a deep voice said.

Yael looked over and saw none other than High Confessor Sullivan himself. His armour was even more ornate, and it sported trimmings of blood-red fabric.

“You knew something was off with that woman, yet you said nothing. I know when you lie.” High Confessor Sullivan said as he approached.

“As High Confessor of High Heaven and with the power vested in me by Divine Council I hereby declare the both of you Excommunicatus Haeresis. The sentence is Purification.” High Confessor Sullivan said and the two Confessors immediately began dragging the two away.

Yael gulped at the sentence, to be declared Excommincatus Haeresis is to be sentenced to be hunted till death by the forces of High Heaven. The only ones to have managed to escape the sentence have fled to the Searing Hells.

To be Purified is to be impaled and then strung up on a crucifix. The condemned is then set alight using divine flame in an effort to burn away their body and sin. It was a brutal punishment designed to keep the sinful in line.

“Now then, step forward Cherubim.” High Confessor Sullivan said and Yael gulped as he approached.

You have been talking quite a bit, haven’t you?

Yael gulped at those words, he felt a thrill of fear run up his spine.

“I did not know what the Ambassador wanted.” Yael stammered.

“Did you? You have been helping him for some time. And then you see shipments from Averlon, and the ambassador wishes to speak with you. All of this happens right after you are done guarding the corpse of an assassinated prince, the very same prince which our intelligence indicates is the least likely to be under demonic influence.” Sullivan said as he approached, and Yael closed his large hand around the top of his head.

Yael knew he could crush his skull in an instant if he wanted to so his only option was to answer honestly. The teachings were clear in the academy, honesty and virtue are always rewarded.

“I did not know of the intelligence on the prince but I should have thought more deeply into it. My apologies High Confessor, I will work to do better in the future.” Yael replied stiffly.

“Good answer, now you may begin by explaining what transpired within the Embassy.” Sullivan said as he released Yael’s head. Yael had to hold back a shudder as he felt the vice like grip release him. 𝔯АΝÒＢƐ𝘴

Yael nodded stiffly, the High Confessor began to walk and Yael mutely followed. Soon Yael was back at the command post. His bunk was near the command post so he had essentially walked away from the command post just to walk back. If this was a just a show of power, he had no idea but the Milita Codex was clear on following orders.

Yael knew his superiors knew best, they were experienced, and some had fought in a thousand campaigns. He was brought into an office, and he was permitted to take a seat on a rather comfortable chair, although the chair was far too large for him.

Considering the fact that the High Confessor was almost two and a half meters tall and broad enough to seem like a metal wall up close, Yael had no choice to but to clamber awkwardly onto the chair.

Yael sat nervously as he watched Sullivan idly flip through a file. Yael sat in silence for what must have been half an hour before the file fell uncerimoniously on the desk.

“Very impressive.” Sullivan said as his head tilted forward slightly at the file on the desk. Behind the gold facelss mask the High Confessor was an enigma, the only thing Yael has to go on for his emotions was his voice. Unfortunately for Yael, the High Confessor was also the most monotous speaker he had ever had the displeasure of conversing with.

“Top of your class in every assesment, showed great valour in combat, won the trust of both the citizens and the Averlonians. It seems you are both soldier and diplomat. Which makes your stunted orgins all the more pitiable.” Sullivan said and Yael winced at those words.

“I do not resent the circumstances of my birth, I do not choose the cards I am dealt, only how I play them.” Yael said in as even a voice as he managed.

“Very well. I suppose we can cut to the main event then.” Sullican said as he leaned forward.

What did you speak about in the Embassy?

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.♚.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Cecilia calmly watched the projection play out in front of her as Yael spilt everything. One of her dear friend’s earliest creations was the Mind Bore parasite, he could deploy millions of eggs into the water system and infect an entire population.

As far she knew it was completely undetectable since no one other than herself and the members of the Hive were aware of these parasites being present. It allowed the Hive monitor the vision, hearing and sensation of any infected individuals. Since no one can intercept Hive transmissions and there was nothing magical about the parasites, it was virtually undetectable.

This basically meant that as far as the Avelonian Empire was concerned all its spies and intelligence agencies were in actuality just red herrings. It would not do for the enemies of the Empire to realise that there was a way for the Empire to gain crucial intelligence without any intelligence operatives.

Although there was a slight flaw, the Seraphim themselves were immune to it. It seems the biology of the more powerful races meant their immune systems were able to easily destroy the eggs before they could hatch. Pouring more power into the parasites would risk discovery so for now Cecilia and he friend have decided to leave it as is.

However, the Cherubim were perfectly infectable.

Cecilia couldn’t help but chuckle at the accidental prediction of the Seraphim. They believe the Cherubim would be an instrument of their downfall. They mostly say this because of the very obvious decline of thier bloodline. They were mostly right, they thought that weakness would bring defeat in battle. But in truth, wars are won before they begin. Know thy enemy, know thy self, and you shall never know defeat.

As for the Seraphim, they were so predictable her friend almost seemed prescient.

Cecilia calmly watched as she wondered if perhaps the High Confessor would kill him. It would be a waste, considering he was an heir, but he wasn’t worth enough to tip her hand just yet.

Yael predictably spilled everything, and he was nothing if not earnest. Cecilia was glad to see that he was indeed exactly what she expected: a good, loyal little soldier. The High Confessor seemed happy, and it looked like he was going to be let go, which means this particular problem was fixed for now.

Cecilia grabbed her royal seal and stamped the final approval for a diplomatic mission to Seraphim in the Divonian Empire. The seal also underlined a proposal for the Seraphim to take over as an interim government in Divonia, essentially deposing the Divonian crown.

Her friend had just headed back to Hell, and he also dragged most of her Wine store with him. With her friend aiming to seize control of hell and demons causing the most problems, she planned to use Divonia to diminish the power of the Seraphim.

Cecilia then moved on to another report, the Mugummans were making good headway with the Eastern Volerians. The influx of refugees is causing some states to buckle under the strain. Soon, an intervention will be necessary, but the main problem is getting the Seraphim to accept the expansion of the Averlonian Empire. This would put the Averlonian Empire on the same land mass as Divonia, and with a burrowing hive, the mountain range does nothing as a barrier.

Cecilia paused as she gazed at the map. She needed leverage…

But that was a plan for later; for now, she needed to get things moving. With her friend gone off to Hell, she was left handling things here alone.

Cecilia grimaced as she felt a slight unease at the thought of her dear friend being absent. She knew she was lucky to have him, absurdly lucky in fact. Without him, Tralis would have wiped Averlon off the map or maybe she would just be stuck in that tower. She knew he was the backbone of this Empire, without him nothing they have now would be possible.

Yes, she herself contributed significantly to the success of the Empire but not having her loyal friend at her back makes her feel vulnerable and unguarded…

Then she heard a knock on the door that tore her from her thoughts. The door opened rather unceremoniously, and she saw the Crowfather standing in front of her. He took off his wide-brimmed hat and respectfully entered.

“Hello Empress.” the Crowfather said as he entered.

“Hello, is there something wrong?” Cecilia asked as she put down her pen.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” the Crowfather said cryptically as he closed the door behind him.

“I heard tale of a rather… dubious offer en route from the halls of High Heaven.” the Crowfather said as he approached Cecilia’s desk.

“And that is?” Cecilia asked as she crossed her arms.

“An offer of acceptance of your plan with the Devotee creature. A thorned olive branch, no doubt, Silvana only offers poison, never succour. She is the Virtue’s best enforcer. I would suggest you seek some recompense for your services of providing the Devotee.

The Archangel Silavana would only have agreed if she planned to get far more than what she would pay. She has a plot, that I am certain.” the Crowfather said grimly.

“How are you so certain that Silvana was the one who proposed the acceptance? I did not receive any information on this.” Cecilia asked suspiciously.

At those words the Crowfather just chuckled lightly.

“I went over to Divonia to scout the land and I came across rumblings of the plot. As to how I know Silvana was pushing it? Well the answer is quite simple really.” the Crowfather said as he glanced down at Cecilia.

“The Seraphim love their bureaucracy and debates. It makes the slow and inflexible while thier foes hurtle about around them. However, their measures are balanced and stable, prudence is a virtue they hold highly.

So as to your question? Well their answer to the Devotee question came a few years too early.” the Crowfather said.

“How do you know it was Silvana specifically? It could be someone else within the Divine Council.” Cecilia asked.

“Silvana is a Light Born.” the Crowfather said and Cecilia’s eyes widened.

“How do you know this?” Cecilia pressed.

“I am a Raven Born remember? Our races hail from the same time period, Silvana and I are acquainted.” the Crowfather said, cryptic as always.

“Fine, alright, so is there anything else I should know?” Cecilia asked as she raised a brow.

“Nothing else at this time.” the Crowfather said as he bowed and placed his hat back on his head.

Cecilia watched him leave as she let out a sigh. She just couldn’t read him at all. He was like a black void of mystery. It wasn’t that surprising; Cecilia was only twenty years old, and the Crowfather had been alive since before Humans existed.

At times, it almost felt like she was being led around in circles. But Cecilia highly doubted that, at the end of the day, to deceive her was to deceive her dearest friend. Still, the sheer difference in experience and wisdom was disconcerting. Mahaila was similar in this respect, but her dear friend handled her. Perhaps it would be best to leave interacting with the ancients to her dear friend in the future…

“One last thing Empress.” the Crowfather said as he stopped in front of the door. He did not turn back, and Cecilia could only see his robed silhouette topped with his wide-brimmed hat.

“Do not underestimate the Seraphim. Though they are atrophied they are still a formidable opponent. Their societal systems are slow to move, but once they gather momentum they will surprise you. There is the reason they have been the uncontested masters of this world for so long.” the Crowfather said.

“Thank you for your candour, I will keep it in mind. It is not my habit to underestimate my foes.” Cecilia muttered.

“The Seraphim are the creatures of light, and the light shines brightest in the darkness. Never forget that.” the Crowfather said as he turned his head slightly and glanced at Cecilia out of the corner of his icy blue eye.

“I will not.” Cecilia replied placidly. The Crowfather in response just nodded slightly before turning to the door again.

“There is an old saying amongst the Seraphim, or perhaps I should say the Light Born. These words were uttered from the lips of the one who sparked the flames of rebellion against the old gods.

Many said to rebel against the old gods was madness. But he did not agree. The Lord of Dreams for all his faults was not one to be so easily cowed, even against the gods themselves.” the Crowfather said as he leaned more heavily on his cane, as if he was feeling a great weight on his shoulders.

Lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for

These words still hold sway in many hearts in High Heaven…

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