Note:
This was a fun little experiment I decided to do based on a writing prompt. For now, I don’t plan on writing an entire novel. But, I’m still proud of my writing– so I’ll let it stay here. I might return to this and write some more if I feel like it. Unfortunately, a day only has twenty four hours– so time is my limit here. I wrote this under a timeline so the end of chapter 2 may be a bit scuffed, I’ll probably fix that in a few days before I let this rest.
Main:
Chapter 1
Year 0 of the Caelivox Calendar.
Aquileia, Northern Prefecture.
Southern Wall.
The moment that Fidelis walked through the door into the city garrison, he was assaulted by the smell of iron. Quickly donning his mask, he looked at the guards before him and said “Dispense with the formalities, your time is better spent on yourselves. It is below my station to ask the wounded for these things. The Incarnate does not smile upon such heedless waste, even that of treacherous rats. Seal their wounds and deliver their corpses to the Church before sunrise.”
A Corporal rose up and saluted the man before him as he spoke “Your Holiness, we are all bound to our oaths, so forgive me for straying. Sargent Robuorus ordered us to wait until he arrives to ensure that there are no mistakes like last time. He is currently conducting a sweep on the Southeastern Quadrant to purge the last of those foreign informants”
Fidelis looks at the corporal and sighs, the man’s state resembling his own situation. “If that is the case, then let me demonstrate it myself. If you’re not dead, then you’ll correct your brothers when you must– so sear this sight into your eyes. Corporal, hand me your sword and tend to your wounds.”
The Corporal wipes his blade clean before he hands it over. Fidelis traces the sword with his palm as he asks “When was the last time you’ve sharpened this sword?” The guards look at one another hearing this question, some lightly nudging their own swords away. The Corporal looks at its hilt before he says “I do not know.” Fidelis flicks the sword and turns to the Corporal, his mask staring at him “Is this your sword?” “Your Holiness, my sword already broke– its shards stuck in my flesh. The sword you hold in your is an Ehrenwache Saber, one that I pried from its owner.”
Fidelis nods at him before he snaps to the side and strikes at the furnace, igniting it from that clash. “Observe.” He lets the blade warm up and then walks up to a corpse, one leaking blood through the bandages. “While cloth is enough for us to close our wounds, the dead are frozen in place– so it’s up to us to warm them.” He then presses the blade into the cloth, cauterizing the mix of flesh and thread.
A few guards get up and open the windows, their minds preoccupied by the smell of charred leather. Fidelis continues to seal the corpse before him, as if he was embalming them. “When you have no flame, you must bury your foes and mark that location. It is flawed, but war cares not for your circumstances. The core principle behind this is to ensure that their blood remains inside, so other methods are permissible. I would watch you all do it once, but I have matters to attend to.”
He quenches the sword to let it cool before he hands it back to the Corporal. As Fidelis walks towards the door, he speaks without looking back “Corporal, what is your name?” The man takes his sword and sheathes it “Your Holiness, I am Neos.” “You live true to your name, youthful indeed.” Fidelis walks out and hangs his mask back onto his belt in one fluid motion.
After a few minutes, the guards fell back into their usual stride. They’d been on edge from the start of the battle until now, and now with the tension leaving the room, their banter returns. “If Neos is youthful with that strand of white hair, then the rest of us are still stuck in the womb.” “All of those night shifts you’ve been taking… who’s this mystery lover of yours?”
Neos chuckles hearing this “Theo, you know that I was the one who escorted your wife home last night. Just say the word and I’ll be there day and night.” The rest of the men clutch their ribs with laughter, their roars mixing with the sizzle of burning flesh.
Chapter 2
Sancta Ecclesia Incarnati.
The wind blows through the windows, stirring the chandelier as Fidelis waits for the rest of his followers to arrive. He looks at the windows and signals to the eight crimson-clad figures behind him. “By the time the candle by the door burns out, lock them and block off any interlopers– by voice or by might.” Two of the inquisitors start closing the windows, another two stand by the doors, waiting.
After a few minutes pass, he clears his throat and starts. “Latoris. Present?” “This servant responds to Your Holiness.” Fidelis snaps his fingers, the candle by the door sputtering out. “By the grace of the Incarnate, this meeting is convened. Latoris, start with the roll call. It would not do for some of our brothers and sisters to be confused, especially now.”
Latoris stands up and speaks like a lion, rousing a few men from their short-lived rest. By the time he finished reciting the names, the men at the table understood their place within it. Latoris served as Fidelis’s right-hand, a man who ensured that every word was heard. Constans, the man with two spears served as an avenging angel. Stars die just like men, and it is his duty to pull these threats from orbit.
Praesidius represents the Central Prefecture’s forces, serving as a Tribune in the Praetorian Guard. They may be the Sigillate-King’s personal guard, but they remain brothers to the faith. Cato and Julia share the responsibilities of Aquileia, one serves as governor and the other serves as garrison commander– a tale as old as time. Just as the initiates were processing this, Fidelis taps the table “Anything you experience in this meeting and in future ones must stay in this room Rest assured, if something needs to be said, then we shall speak– not you.” He takes a pause before he continues “Praesidius, Latoris, Julia, Cato, Constans. This is the order that shall be heard today.”
Praesidius stands, his armor creaking “Thank you your Holiness. As some of you are new faces, I’ll get you all up to speed. The Sigillate-King of recent times was a man who earned the condemnation of Heaven and man. So we, the Praetorian Guard, Ehrenwache, and the Curia made an oath to wash his influence off with blood. The Curia started off by covering his eyes, suppressing certain reports while rewriting others. Under this layer of protection, Ehrenwache slowly hunted his loyalists. Once they were done, our task came into play– to cut off the serpent’s head.” As he continues to speak, the true scale of this gathering dawned on the initiates.
“Two days ago, we fulfilled our oath. As I speak, the entire guard is en route to Aquileia with the Sigillate-King’s body. They will arrive by sunrise.” Cato pushes his glasses up as he opens his mouth “What use do we have with a false king’s body?” Fidelis interjects “A King’s blood holds the vitality of a nation. Even while false, he died on the throne. The Incarnate is pleased with this result.”
Praesidius sits down and watches the table break out into casual banter. Latoris waits for a few minutes, to let the gravity of these words sink in before he gets up again and claps once. “Our network of pilgrims in the Central and Southern Prefectures report that the Curia and Ehrenwache are both purging informants and are currently consolidating their gains from this. It appears that once they’re done, Vostannia shall be thrown into the anvils of war once more. There are currently three power blocs: Our own led by Fidelis, the Curia led by Regulus, and Ehrenwache led by Invictus. Each of us are competing to succeed the old king, to restore Vostannia to its true might. For this war, Aquileia shall be our command city. Our immediate goal is to capitalize on our gains and to strengthen ourselves.”