Richard Tuttle - Winged Warrior

“This is probably the hardest part of my reforms,” admitted the Emperor, “but it is also one of the most crucial. Whether or not you understand it, Kaltara guides our fate. The great battles that are about to befall us will be a battle between good and evil, between Kaltara and Dobuk.”

“Dobuk is the god that Vand follows?” asked Lord Jamarat.

“Dobuk is the Great Demon,” corrected Marak, “but yes, that is who is driving Vand and his minions. Khadorans must learn that we are fighting for more than just ourselves. We are fighting for Kaltara and all that is good in this world. Our enemies are strong and powerful, but Kaltara will aid us if we ask him to.”

“Can’t you ask Kaltara to aid us?” asked Lord Jamarat. “I heard that he talks to you.”

“He does,” smiled Emperor Marak, “and He does help me. Look at the remarkable path my life has taken, from the son of a slave to the Emperor of this great country. Kaltara has guided me all of the way, but should he aid thousands upon thousands of others who do not even believe in him? I want all of our people to know Kaltara. I want all of our people praying to Kaltara for help with the coming struggle. Can any of you tell me how to accomplish this?”

Most of the lords had blank stares on their faces, but Lord Chenowith was smiling. Emperor Marak looked at the Walkan lord with curiosity.

“To many people in Khadora,” Lord Chenowith volunteered, “this Lords’ Council is the most respected body in the world. To untold thousands of Khadorans our new Emperor is the hero of legends. I think the answer to your problem, Emperor Marak, lies within this room. We set the example for how we want our citizens to behave. If we want them to believe in Kaltara, then we must believe in Kaltara.”

“And if our Emperor believes in Kaltara,” Lord Jamarat quickly added, “then I want to believe in Kaltara. How do we learn?”

Emperor Marak grinned at the simple solution presented to him by the lords. He rose from his chair and addressed the Lords’ Council.

“I suggest that we immediately retire to the newly built temple in this city,” declared Emperor Marak. “There I will introduce you to Kaltara.”

Emperor Marak led the members of the Lords’ Council into the new Temple of Kaltara in Khadoratung. While the temple had been constructed quickly, the workmanship was impeccable. The temple was built from plans provided by the Qubari. The lords gazed around with appreciation as the Emperor led them to the prayer chamber.

“I should have visited sooner,” remarked Lord Patel. “This is an exquisite structure. Is it true that it is modeled after the one in Angragar?”

“It is an exact replica,” nodded the Emperor as he halted outside the prayer chamber and opened the door. “This chamber has no windows. I normally do not bother with a torch, but I think one is appropriate for this visit. Take one in with you, Lord Patel.”

Lord Patel took a torch from a holder outside the chamber and carried it inside. The other lords followed, and the Emperor entered last and closed the door. The chamber was large and circular. Marak walked to Lord Patel and took the torch from his hand. He placed it in a wall sconce and returned to the center of the room.

“Let us kneel and hold hands,” suggested the Emperor.

The lords formed a circle with the Emperor and knelt down. Most of the lords were slightly anxious about being in the temple, as religion had never been an important part of Khadoran life. They didn’t know how to act, and Emperor Marak sympathized with them. It was not long ago that he had those very same feelings himself.

“Kaltara,” Emperor Marak began, “I have brought the Lords’ Council of Khadora with me today to learn about you. They are to help me spread the word about you so that all Khadorans might praise you.”

“Welcome to my home, Torak,” boomed a voice. “Your heart is in the right place, but I question your methods.”

“I do not understand,” frowned the Emperor.

“The people must have faith in me,” replied the voice.

“I know,” replied Marak as he noticed the other lords staring at him in a curious manner, “that is why we have come.” Fearing that the others were being left out, Marak asked, “Am I the only one hearing your voice?”

“You are, Torak,” replied the voice. “If I speak to every citizen of Khadora, and they listen, that does not constitute faith. Oh, they may tremble at my voice and do what I wish for a time, but that is not what I seek. The people must believe in me, and that is your task.”

“I understand,” frowned Marak, “but I am not a priest. I seek your help in this matter. At least help me get things started. The Lords’ Council is critical for my efforts to defeat Vand. These men have come here willingly to learn about you. Help me teach them.”

The lords were frowning as they listened to the Emperor carry on a conversation as if he were talking to someone, but the chamber was silent except for Marak’s words. Doubt began to creep into their minds, even though they had the highest regard for the Emperor. Marak began to think he had made a grievous error.

“I will grant your request this one time,” the voice boomed so that everyone could hear.

Expressions of awe filled the faces of the members of the Lords’ Council as the lords finally realized that Kaltara did indeed exist.

“Has not the whole world heard the crack of the awakening of Angragar?” Kaltara continued. “The Sakovans heard it. The Qubari fell to their knees when they heard it. The Chula celebrated it, and Vand’s people trembled upon hearing it. Have the Khadorans been so long without faith that they do not know my hand when it strikes?”

Not a single person in the chamber spoke. The faces of the lords were open-mouthed, their eyes wide with sudden understanding.

“You have done well, Torak,” the voice continued. “I am pleased with the temples that you have built. Now you must fill them. Use these men that you regard so highly. Your time is very short. The evil comes soon. The Time of Cleansing is now upon you. Prepare to fight in my name.”

The torch blew out as a great gust of wind traveled around the circular chamber. High overhead, the darkness was split by a brilliant glow that illuminated the chamber, as the sun would have. The glow slowly began to fade, sending the chamber back towards the darkness. The lords let out a collective sigh as if they had all been holding their breath the entire time.

Without a word, the Emperor rose and retrieved the extinguished torch. He carried it as he moved to the door and opened it. Everyone filed out of the prayer chamber.

“I could never have imagined such an experience,” remarked Lord Chenowith when they had reassembled outside the prayer chamber. “I am glad that he chose to speak to us. I will be the first to admit that my doubt was growing in there.”

“Why did he call you the Torak?” asked Lord Jamarat.

“The time we live in was prophesized thousands of years ago,” explained Emperor Marak. “The rise of the Torak, the Star, and the Astor was foretold in those prophecies. Why I was chosen to be the Torak, I do not know, but it is something that I cannot turn away from.”

“And this Time of Cleansing?” asked Lord Quilo. “That is when this evil will come to fight us?”

“Exactly,” nodded the Emperor. “It will be soon. We have much to do to prepare for it. I will let you lords return to the palace,” he added after a pause, “I wish to inspect the temple alone.”

The lords nodded and proceeded out of the temple. The Torak walked blindly around the temple, supposedly on an inspection tour, but his mind was elsewhere. He was pleased that Kaltara had spoken to the lords, but he also realized that it was not likely to happen again. He still needed a way to get the Khadorans to revive their lost faith.