The Silent King – A Story from Lo’Et Sha’Eroth

Chapter 1: Prologue – A King’s Wedding


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 The few remaining servants in the auditorium rushed to make their exits, lighting the final candles before scurrying from the hall, careful to keep their eyes down. Distant footstep after footstep echoed through the hall, a chilling rhythm emerging from the incessant striking of metal against marble.  As the last of the servants left, the striking continued, growing louder. Orange and red flickered around the pristine marble hall, reflecting off its entirely white walls and floor. The entire room seemed to vibrate with light, illuminating the extravagant murals which adorned the ceiling. As the first Witness finally entered the hall through the main doors on the far end, the noise had become deafening. One after another, they advanced with a cold exuberance, bringing their boots forcefully to the marble with every step.  Their steel-soled boots were always loud, but today was different. Today’s assembly was a celebration. Instead of their standard stark white robes, they wore red and white, the colors of blood, purity, and victory. They kept their eyes to the floor, rendering their faces obscured by the hoods of their robes. Eventually, all two-hundred and fifty of them had emerged, making their way around the hall to the seats which lined its sides, and taking their places.  The footsteps finally ceased, leaving a chilling silence in their place.

    The Silent King observed from above. He stood alone on a balcony, high above the rest of the auditorium. Though he was in plain view of the Witnesses, they dared not raise their eyes to look upon him. If they had, they would have seen that he too wore red and white. The colors seemed to swirl over and around him, suggesting the form of a flowing wedding dress that billowed out from his waist and stretched far behind him, into the darkness of the corridor from which he had emerged unnoticed. The Witnesses were now seated, but the ceremony could not yet be commenced. That honor lay with the Arch-Arbiters. Laying his hands softly on the railing in front of him, the King peered downwards to watch their entrance. Unlike the Witnesses, they moved silently, appearing to glide across the center of the hall, their legs obscured by the wedding dresses which they too wore, though the colors of these garments did not appear to be so… alive. They each took their place in twenty-five thrones, which sat at the front of the auditorium, directly below the balcony on which the King stood. Unlike the Witnesses, they did not contain their gaze to their shoes. They looked straight out at those assembled through red veils, their gazes invisible but piercing. 

    The room fell still for a moment that seemed like an eternity until the Arch-Arbiter who sat in the center pushed himself to his feet. He looked around slowly, and the Witnesses finally raised their eyes, turning their heads in unison to look upon the Arch-Arbiter. The hall appeared ready to erupt with light and color, and the candle flames which illuminated the room seemed to dance with increasing urgency. Light jumped around the room, spinning around the Witnesses in their robes and the Arch-Arbiters in their dresses, turning the once still room into a cacophony of red and white. The Arch-Arbiter spoke in a low voice, but it echoed around the room.

    “Blessed is the Above, and blessed is the land It descends upon. Blessed are those who command for Its sake, and Blessed are those who have died for It.  My brothers, today marks the five hundred and eighteenth anniversary of the creation of our great Galyrian Empire. On this day, we celebrate the union of our King and the Above in Divine Matrimony, and the beginning of the greatest movement this world has seen. But we must remember that this beginning was not only a beginning, but also a return. When our ancient forefathers, the Ra’Khem, joined their King in marriage to the Above, they marked the beginning of known history, and initiated a golden age that lasted ten millennia. So too will we inaugurate a period of purity and of peace, restructuring this world to once again reflect the Divine Beauty of the Above.”

    The Arch-Arbiter paused, and the Witnesses loosened their mechanical posture ever so slightly. Some conferred briefly, and nearly silently, with those near them. The Arch-Arbiter advanced down the hall, looking into the eyes of his subordinates as he continued making his speech. 

    “In pursuit of this aim, we have lost our sons, fathers, and brothers. But we have not backed down, and we will not back down. With the heretic city of Ironhorn within our grasp, and our internal enemies crushed, victory is now an inevitability. However, there are many great sacrifices ahead for our empire. With approval from His Majesty, my Brother-Arbiters and I have decided to commence the invasion of Ironhorn in twenty-five days' time, on the same day we conquered this great Capital of Galehold five-hundred and eighteen years ago. “

    By now he had returned to his place at the front of the auditorium. He paused for a moment, before throwing his arms in front of him, his palms raised to the sky. 

    “Blessed is the Above, and blessed is the land It descends upon. Blessed are those who command for Its sake, and Blessed are those who have died for It. May It rest on the hearts of the worthy like snow, and bury the unworthy like ash.”

    The Witnesses stood suddenly and threw their hands in the air similarly. A moment later, the remaining Arbiters joined them. They spoke in unison.
    

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    “Blessed is the Above, and blessed is the land It descends upon.”

    By the time they finished speaking, The Silent King was gone.


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