Annuakat
Palace
The Hall of Light
Evening
Contrary to its name, the Hall of Light was not a bright place at all at this hour. Filled during the day by grand, golden beams of sunlight from an open hexagonal pattern of the domed roof, tonight the clouds had obscured the moonlight and left it bleak and oddly cold. There were shadows of bodies standing in attendance, the Nine Princes left of Annuakat stood at the upper tier of the hall looking down upon a retinue of masked Immortals as they brought forth a man in chains.
From the Nine one man walked forward to stand at the center, the violet of his eyes within the glow of only a scant few torches an easy hint as to his identity. When he spoke, his deep voice boomed through the chamber like thunder; Prince Mago read the Abtati his charges, words unbroken by the chorus of pleas from the guilty party.
"You are hereby sentenced to eternal damnation, stricken of your rights to meet your Gods in the afterlife."
A shadowed figure stepped forward, peeling itself out of the darkness in a set of armor so black it claimed what little light was shed through the chamber. The torches went out, the Abtati fought against his restraints. No one saw what happened next but the sound of his wailing would wake children from their sleep and turn the bones of those laid peacefully to rest in their crypts.
Silence then settled with a sickening quickness, the guards felt their quarry's weight fall limp in their tethers.
"Master Mortician," Mago then turned as a single torch was relit and set his gaze upon a man of platinum hair and dour countenance, "thank you for attending on such short notice. As discussed, no word of this is to reach the ears of the people. The Priest's transgressions against the God King and his Divan must be broached to the public at the appropriate time. The Executioner will accompany you to ensure ... authenticity of his passing."
Mages were notoriously hard to kill, it seemed, or perhaps the Prince who bore no magical abilities of his own was simply being extra careful.
The Executioner stepped forward, its presence causing the torch's flame to wilt, and stared with balefully glowing red eyes at the Mortician from within a masked cowl. He would not see the growing blade of a sneer behind the armor.
Palace
The Hall of Light
Evening
Contrary to its name, the Hall of Light was not a bright place at all at this hour. Filled during the day by grand, golden beams of sunlight from an open hexagonal pattern of the domed roof, tonight the clouds had obscured the moonlight and left it bleak and oddly cold. There were shadows of bodies standing in attendance, the Nine Princes left of Annuakat stood at the upper tier of the hall looking down upon a retinue of masked Immortals as they brought forth a man in chains.
From the Nine one man walked forward to stand at the center, the violet of his eyes within the glow of only a scant few torches an easy hint as to his identity. When he spoke, his deep voice boomed through the chamber like thunder; Prince Mago read the Abtati his charges, words unbroken by the chorus of pleas from the guilty party.
"You are hereby sentenced to eternal damnation, stricken of your rights to meet your Gods in the afterlife."
A shadowed figure stepped forward, peeling itself out of the darkness in a set of armor so black it claimed what little light was shed through the chamber. The torches went out, the Abtati fought against his restraints. No one saw what happened next but the sound of his wailing would wake children from their sleep and turn the bones of those laid peacefully to rest in their crypts.
Silence then settled with a sickening quickness, the guards felt their quarry's weight fall limp in their tethers.
"Master Mortician," Mago then turned as a single torch was relit and set his gaze upon a man of platinum hair and dour countenance, "thank you for attending on such short notice. As discussed, no word of this is to reach the ears of the people. The Priest's transgressions against the God King and his Divan must be broached to the public at the appropriate time. The Executioner will accompany you to ensure ... authenticity of his passing."
Mages were notoriously hard to kill, it seemed, or perhaps the Prince who bore no magical abilities of his own was simply being extra careful.
The Executioner stepped forward, its presence causing the torch's flame to wilt, and stared with balefully glowing red eyes at the Mortician from within a masked cowl. He would not see the growing blade of a sneer behind the armor.