Stephen Zimmer - Crown of Vengeance

The thought of the Cathedral never ceased to amuse the Unifier, especially how it looked so small and insignificant before His towering, mighty citadel. The Cathedral was where many of the wealthiest nobles believed that they offered worship to the Accursed One. While their utterances may have been addressed to the God of the Western Church, an irritant enough, the Unifier was consoled by the reality that their hearts and deeds had long ago fallen to the service of Another.

Other nobles and authorities made their appearances within the Cathedral, but unlike the other nobles, they knew very well to Whom they belonged. The greatest of these was the Archbishop Regnier himself, who was not alone among the bishops and abbots who had been turned to Another’s service. Except for the aging Vicar of the Western Church, Celestine IX, and a handful of recalcitrant fools clinging to the old, fading order, the Unifier now held a grip upon a majority of the influential high clergy.

The nobles and ecclesiastical powers of Avalos were just the surface of a broader transformation of loyalties occurring swiftly within many lands and kingdoms.

A large majority of the most formidable and learned that humankind had to offer had readily chosen allegiance to Him, and by extension the One that the Unifier served. A number of them constituted many of the very individuals that ruled sprawling kingdoms and expansive empires.

The Unifier had not needed to engage in arguments with many of the Kings and Emperors, much less coerce them. For the most part, away from the eyes of the slumbering masses, they had come to submit swiftly, and enthusiastically.

That the men of power and wealth could so willingly bring their rich and strong lands into His service, and that a smaller rabble of wood-dwelling primitives could so vehemently continue to oppose Him, raised His ire and indignation to a white-hot level. That they had exposed a foolish commander in His own ranks, and likely caused severe damage to the Unifier’s relations with the valuable Trogen clans, was just one more reason why the Unifier hungered ravenously for immediate vengeance.

It was no time for coercion or even subjugation. It was time for absolute destruction.

Annihilation was the only recourse that would quench the fires burning within the Unifier. The Five Realms had to be cast into a hurricane of retribution, one so powerful that they would not emerge to see any future, even one in willful submission to the Unifier.

Whether they surrendered and bowed to Him or not was no longer of any concern whatsoever. Furthermore, the extinction of the five tribes would be an unforgettable lesson to any who remotely harbored any thoughts of resistance.

The thought brought a brief surge of fiery red into His eyes, as He turned away from the sight of Avalos and slowly strode back down the steps into the bailey. When He reached the messenger, who had not moved at all in the interim, His eyes had returned back to their fathomless blue once again. “See to it that the Darroks are immediately outfitted by our craftsmen with new carriages, ones that cannot be so easily threatened by two tribesman with axes,” the Unifier stated bluntly.

“Send word to Viscount Adhemar that the Trogens must be given more authority in matters involving their own kind. I do not think that they will neglect to have Harrak-mounted warriors riding in the carriages. That will answer the presence of any defenders that the failed scouts overlooked,” the Unifier commanded in a forceful tone. A slight hint of a grin played about the Unifier’s face. “And tell the Viscount that he is then to report directly to Me, in person, and without delay.”

The Unifier grew quiet for a moment as He sifted through a few options in His mind. He settled upon a quite intriguing one.

“We will now see if the eastern Galleans can adhere to My desires better than a viscount from Avanor,” the Unifier said, articulating the words slow and purposefully. “See that the full authority of command is given over to Count Garnier IV. We will see if commands rendered in the articulations of the Langeoc will be more understandable than those given through the Langeal.”

His last words referred to the two versions of the Gallean tongue, the former spoken in the eastern provinces of Gallea, and the latter spoken in the western ones, including Avanor itself. The great Count of Talasae, Garnier IV, was one of those who spoke the eastern version, and he ruled the Gallean lands adjacent to the Five Realms. Talasae was a bountiful province, containing the powerful walled cities of Carcasse and Talasae. It was also home to some heretical religious movements that had deeply aggrieved the Western Church, as well as being a core of the region that had given rise to a newer tradition of epic poets. As if that was not enough, the area had helped give birth to a code of knightly behavior that had been closely embraced by great numbers of the elite warriors of Gallea. Count Garnier would now have a chance to become a subject of one of those epic poems.

“Make sure that it is very clear that Count Garnier unleash destruction upon all of the tribal villages, wherever they are found. Give them no mercy. Accept no surrender. No submission. Have Garnier break the chains on the army massed on the border of the tribal lands. Unleash those forces, and commence with the ground invasion. It is no longer there to influence any thoughts that the primitives might have had at submission. The sun has set upon their land and people. A new sun rises. Begin the invasion. Now go!”

The messenger bowed his head low in deference, and then placed his helm back on his head. His fingers were shaking as he adjusted the leather chinstrap, and it took him another moment to secure it. He rose to his feet, though he kept his gaze fixed to the ground as he turned and hustled back to his Harrak.

Mounting the winged steed swiftly, the guardsman wasted no time in his departure. He spurred the Harrak to lope forward and leap upward, snapping its wings down as it left the ground and began its climb back up into the skies.

The Unifier watched the messenger pass on over the outer walls of the terrace, streaking out towards the horizon as he continued to ascend higher. There was no question that the soldier would gladly hasten to his delegated task, even if predominantly motivated by the desire to flee the presence of the Unifier.

Though the day was bright and the sun unfettered, His face darkened, as if a cloud bank had swept in and cast Avanor’s great Lord into a deep shade.

The Five Realms.

Saxany.

Midragard.

One would be destroyed soon. One was facing its final test. One would be dealt with in the near future. Very little remained to stand in His way, and perhaps all three of the last significant obstacles would find their fate to be total destruction before His work was fulfilled.

The new age was coming to the world. An old order would be overthrown, even as a new one ascended, one that would give rise to a new god taking dominion over all creation. The Great War would be finally brought to its end, and Another would come to bathe the world in fire, and recreate it in His image.

The Unifier was that Power’s herald and greatest prophet, preparing His Father’s coming and unlocking the timeless gates between dimensions. He would be first before all within the new Kingdom, placed even over the greatest of the antediluvian, immensely powerful brethren that had long served that Power. With the fall of the old order would also come the fall of His Father’s great Adversary, as well as the Unifier’s hated Counterpart.

The scent of the coming victory was exhilarating to every ounce of His being, the culmination of vast ages, meticulous patience, and tremendous sacrifices and suffering. It was all within sight and grasp, a reality both tantalizing and torturous.