The Deian War: Vermillion's Apostles

by Thomas Trehearn

  They entered into a massive corridor ornamented enough to amaze a human with its beauty, yet the legionnaires seemed unaffected. Its walls were made of the same marble as the stairs outside, which made the wealth of the Senate all the more obvious. The floor was a natural slate, sanded down until it was even, but the varying colours were mesmerizing as though they had been arranged to make any visitor more diplomatically inclined. To each side of the corridor, more doors, each lavished with names of Senators or suite titles, revealed the house to be even more of a stately home for the politicians than the public suspected.

  They soon reached an atrium, where in the centre a spiralling staircase led to the upper galleries and observatories; places where delegates of the public and officials alike could watch the Senate in their discourse and political debates. From here, there were three halls that branched off. The hallway on the right led to more offices, bedrooms and studies. On the left were the bathrooms, kitchens and rooms filled to the brim with all the facilities needed by both Gothica’s own governors and those travelling from all the corners of the Empire. The third hallway followed the main corridor after the atrium and ended with the Great Auditorium where the Senate made all the decisions and choices that would affect and shape the Empire.

  Before this, however, was another set of doors. These were much larger than any in the house and likely even sturdier than those at the front. Stood guard were another ten veterans, all defensive and alert as the group approached them. If Sabre had not got the message that these men were soldiers drawn from a long line of service, then he would now.

  These last Senate Guard were not only, on average, taller than the rest, but they were bulkier, rougher-looking and better armed with long, shining steel halberds at their sides. Their greyed hair spoke of age while their eyes spoke of conviction and vigilance. The armour they wore seemed to be more refined and more lightweight despite being thicker than their counterparts from the wall. Sabre could tell this with his war-trained eyes, but he suspected that most Gothicans would not be able to tell the subtle differences in lethality between the types of guards. It appeared that only the halberds were a clue as to a difference in rank and purpose, because there was very little noticeable difference in their outward appearance otherwise.

  “Captain Ashdown. Who are these men you bring forward?” one of the Guards said. His hair was black, with shades of white at the sides. With cheeks pock-marked by debris thrown in battle and a scar running down the palm of his right hand, further still until his fatigues obscured them, the man looked both menacing and calm. He seemed poised to strike at any moment, given to answering no authority but his own or those in the room he safeguarded.

  “Major Barclay,” Ashdown replied. “These men request an audience with the Senate.”

  “Who are they?” the major replied coldly, ignoring the legionnaires completely and paying attention only to Ashdown.

  “Major, they are Black Guardian Legionnaires…” Ashdown began. “It is as the Prophecy foretold. They have finally come to-“

  “How can you tell?” Barclay said with indifference as if many false men had come before him personally, claiming to be the soldiers that the ancient Prophecy spoke of.

  Ashdown was nonplussed, unable to understand the major’s lack of enthusiasm. “W-what?”

  Barclay was looking at him with scolding eyes now, displeased to have his time wasted. “I said, Captain, how do you suppose these men are legionnaires?”

  Then the major turned to the lead legionnaire and looked him up and down, scrutiny clear in his eyes. “Many have come and claimed just as you have. Many have died with their lies”.

  Sabre said nothing. He knew this was inevitable; not everyone was going to believe they were who they said they were without any proof. He was actually glad that the major took more convincing than the captain did; it meant that the humans weren’t all so gullible after all.

  “I…I…” Ashdown muttered, suddenly aware of the danger he may have brought into the Senate House.

  The door guards raised their halberds in unison, assuming attack postures but doing nothing more. Barclay remained as he was before, stationary as though he hadn’t noticed the actions of the men behind him. In truth, it was because he knew they would actually do nothing until he gave the word.

  “Captain Ashdown, you may have just performed the single most naive act in the history of the Guard,” Barclay said blandly. He then turned to regard Sabre. “If you have proof, legionnaire, you would do well to show it.”

  The major spoke with such a tone that he appeared to know enough of the Prophecy to vouchsafe the real legionnaires. What disturbed Sabre was the tale that others had pretended to be the Guardians before them. Whether the liars had been human or something far worse and deadly he could not know for certain, but it meant that already their reputation and power was at stake.

  Now that they were really here, in person and in reality, it was audacious to reject their presence and identity even if the Senate Guard had to be distrusting by nature. Sabre was willing to be patient, to accept that not all Gothicans were ready recipients of the Prophecy as others, but he was running out of time and he needed to complete his mission. The major would not stand in his way.

  “My name is Sabre, Major Barclay, and we are Black Guardian legionnaires. You would do well to believe my words,” he answered simply.

  Barclay raised an eyebrow in disappointment of the case provided. “And if I should not?” he asked.

  “If you do not believe the truth when it is told to you, then when the war arrives and the enemy comes knocking at your door, you will never have a chance of denying them. Your Empire may have been born out of war and conquest, it may have endured the predations of races that even we would have a difficulty in besting, but to underestimate this enemy, or us, will be your ruin.

  They are capable of making lies look like reality, of turning even the most loyal of servants into traitors. If you truly know the Prophecy, that our Queen, the last Goddess Vermillion, worked so hard to weave into your infant cultures and worlds, as well as you think you do, then you should know we speak the truth when I say this; Ahr ker se ashii lo retyr pyria ri tyr ka-rine Apostlii.”

  Barclay staggered back, his façade of disbelief shattered instantly by the sound of the language of the Black Guardians. Though he had never heard it spoken before, he could make sense of it as clearly as his native tongue. The words penetrated the barriers of his linguistic understanding and permeated his doubts of the Prophecy until they exploded under the pressure of truth.

  Men and women both before Sabre had tried to speak those words, but none had the power of the language, none could speak it as though it was their natural dialect. This time, the phrase beat with meaning and purpose like it was designed to do, translating itself by merit of its user’s intention.

  “All will be dust but for the acts of the twelve Apostles…” he mirrored in a whispered voice for the sake of both himself and his men. They were equally shocked, the weight of Sabre’s voice filling them with certainty and removing the doubt of his identity. It was almost terrifying that such simplicity could confirm a prophecy that many of the Senate had deigned meaningless.

  Despite the unsettling way one sentence had unravelled years of defence against what his family saw as superstitious babble, Barclay regained his composure quickly and stood firm before the legionnaires. He waved to his men to lower their weapons, but they already had, disarmed as they were by Sabre’s evidence.

  “I did not think this day would ever come. Forgive me, I was blinded by liars…” the major said, his sorrow genuine.

  Sabre bowed in respect, realising how hard a revelation must be for a man sworn to be sceptical of everything and tuned cynical by false prophets and deceivers. Although it was touching that they had reached this bridge and made the connection, he still had to get through to the Auditorium to speak with the Senate as soon as he could and insisted that he and his men be allowed through.
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br />   “I’m sorry, Sire” Barclay said, using a level of respect that he never dreamed of using to address another man, “but I cannot allow you passage. The Senate are in session and are deciding on the fate of Colossi. We have a powerful fleet and military; we may not need your help” he finished, half-heartedly by the end of it. He didn’t truly believe, that if the Prophecy was right, the humans could do much to deny such a world and its vast armies entry to the Empire and its domains, but his military discipline demanded that he believed in the power of his own people.

  “There is little point in discussing its fate. It is already known to us. The destiny of Colossi is to bring unimaginable war to your Empire, Major. The armies that will launch from there will stop at nothing to destroy your entire race. We are here to prevent that. Trust me, Barclay, alone you will fall. You must let us through,” Sabre said, stripping away the veteran Guard’s confidence and pride. His voice was steeped in authority and power. Barclay almost bowed in response.

  “If what you say is true, and there is little doubt in me after your words before, then I have no choice but to grant you passage,” the major relented. He turned to his men. “Open the doors.”

  They complied without question, each hearing the proof just as he had and they feared no punishment from the Senate for this interruption. It was clear to them all that not allowing the legionnaires through would lead to a far worse future for their careers than denying them.

  “I will lead you in myself, but I warn you. These men are more suspicious than I, and it will take a great deal more than the spoken tongue to prove your identity to them,” Barclay cautioned.

  “That will not be a problem,” Sabre answered assuredly, following the aged veteran inside.

  WHEN BARCLAY LED the legionnaires inside the Great Auditorium, the rows of Senators were so shocked at the breach in protocol and their privacy that, at first, they said nothing at all. There were banks upon banks of seats, ascending upwards from the centre to each of the four marble walls that formed the chamber. The quadrant of seated areas converged on a raised dais in the middle of the room, upon which a speaker was giving his oration to the audience.

  The auditorium was unusually packed, there usually being an infrequent need for such a complete host of governors and officials. Sabre had chosen his arrival and intervention by no mere coincidence; he knew that the Senate had finally started to take notice of the rumours of the supernatural and the ethereal across the Empire and the murmuring of the Prophecy fulfilled. They may have managed to keep this a secret to the general population and even to the majority of the military, regardless of rank, but Sabre’s knowledge and awareness of human business was restricted by no man.

  Standing at the top of the seats closest to the Great Auditorium’s entrance, Barclay waited for the inevitable.

  “This…” a Senator blurted, his dark moustache moving with his quivering lips, “is an outrage!”

  The outburst was like the beginning of a domino thunderstorm and in seconds the room, full to the brim with men, young and driven or aged and wise, was booming with shouts and protests.

  The Senator at the dais, who had been presenting his point with the use of a holographic display emanating from his podium, stood in amused bewilderment.

  “Gentlemen,” he said softly, casually waving his arms as if to calm down a group of children. It seemed to work and much like the mimicry of angst, the taming gesture seemed to be contagious too. “Do not abase yourselves like this. We are members of the Senate. Let us act like it” he continued, turning on his heels and looking at the audience from each side of the square. He seemed to command both great respect and authority despite his apparent youth.

  He was neither overly dramatic nor aggressive which, Sabre admitted to himself, gave little clue as to how he achieved his status. Having known many human politicians to rise through the ranks through power and age alone, his beloved goddess having shown him and his brothers all the history of this race, Sabre thought this man went against the grain and more likely than not, many other conventions.

  Something told him it wasn’t through bribery, yet this Senator could not claim to have the experience that his older peers possessed. Though it irked him not to be able to find the answer to this unexpected riddle, as this man was not who he expected to see commanding the Senate into action, Sabre resolved to discover the nature of his past another time.

  The unnamed man turned to direct his voice at Barclay. “Major, can you explain this most unusual interruption, to please my colleagues? I confess, I do not take this lightly myself…”

  Barclay was completely unshaken, which either suggested years of interaction with the government and a comfortable familiarity with their ways, or his conviction after Sabre’s words really was as solid now as it seemed to have been made earlier.

  “My Lord Governor,” Barclay addressed the man, indicating that Sabre’s suspicions of his status were correct. “These men I bring before you are Black Guardian Legionnaires, the very same mentioned in the Prophecy”.

  The major then turned to regard the rest of the Senate and told them solemnly, “It is as some of you believe; the Prophecy has already been fulfilled…”

  Hushed whispers coursed through the Senators as this news, unexpected by most but welcome by some, was given plainly to their ears. The Governor was unmoved. Either he was one who suspected this would happen, or he was excellent at dissembling his reactions as a facet of his political skills. Sabre thought it likely the latter was true.

  “My dear Major, these men could be anyone” he shrugged as a laugh almost escaped his lips. The gesture irritated Sabre and the legionnaires, more than anything else had for years.

  Sabre stepped forward. “We did not travel across your star sectors in delicate secrecy, in an effort to prevent panic and disarray, to be so blindly disregarded,” he said firmly, without raising his voice to intimidating levels despite the temptation.

  “Imposters!” a senator yelled, suddenly and without any justified provocation.

  “The Prophecy is a lie!” another claimed. With this, another outcry of dissent spread through the ranks of the politicians.

  It was unbelievable. After everything that had happened, and was currently happening, how could these men be so foolish? Sabre wondered.

  He began to walk down the channel running through the seats towards the dais at the centre. As soon as he began to move, the Governor spoke, his voice full of authority and flawlessly rigid.

  “You will stop, whether you are a legionnaire or not, and approach no further.”

  Sabre complied, not through obedience but through curiosity of what the human would dare accuse them of next. “This Prophecy you speak of…” the Governor continued, “It talks about traitors as well…devils dressed in the garbs of angels. Beware of those who claim to be protectors, for they seek to protect nothing but their power, it says.”

  Cries of assent filled the room, but Sabre could smell the fear in their hearts and knew their undisciplined chaos was originated from that rather than pure disrespect. Some, he could tell, desperately wanted to believe that the Black Guardians were finally real, but like the major, they had been deceived too many times to keep faith in a prophecy that didn’t promise to be consistent.

  “We are not the liars and tricksters you are right to suspect us of being. We are the Black Guardians and we need not weave mistruths into your minds to convince you of our identity. We come to protect you, but…it is your choice if you want us to. We are not your enemy; we are not the Phantoms,” Sabre replied.

  “Phantoms? Is that what you call those who tried to deceive us before?” the Governor asked.

  Sabre shook his head sadly. He always suspected that the enemy would find ways to try and subvert their relationship with the humans. The Governor’s words had confirmed that beyond doubt. “No. They were humans manipulated by the Phantoms, nothing more. If you think yourselves capable of defeating the Great Enemy alone because you have evaded th
eir most basic tricks, then you will be destroyed by the truth of them”.

  “We cannot trust them! The Prophecy never mentioned a meeting like this! It must be false. If these legionnaires are so powerful, why have they not defeated the enemy already?” a Senator yelled.

  The Governor raised a hand to quiet him before others could join in, but it wasn’t enough to stop Sabre’s actions. The commander turned to one of his men and muttered an order. Seconds later, the male Guardian revealed a concealed knife and threw it into the heart of the dissenter.

  The kill was so fast that the politicians were stunned into silence. Just as the shock of the legionnaires’ apparently treacherous action sunk away, something happened to the body of the dead malcontent. An otherworldly flame burst from his skin and covered his frame completely before burning the man to a crisp. The heat was so intense that the very essence of the Senator simply vanished.

  “Obviously that man was not human” the legionnaire responsible explained as he saw the Senate desperately scared for an answer. “He was a Corrupt; a once-human tainted by the Phantoms”.

  The Lord Governor seemed breathless, but he managed to settle the Senate and gave a look to Sabre that assured him they were now listening.

  “How can you deny the reality that you face? How can you perceive a planet appearing from nowhere as having no meaning?” Sabre asked his newly attentive audience. He was never a natural at giving speeches, but he knew that what the Senate had just witnessed would help to bolster his words.

  “Is it not possible…” a Senator began, standing to counter Sabre, who was now the primary speaker in the room, in the appropriate manner, “that this planet was concealed from us all this time? What if the Prophecy has been misunderstood, that a misconception was intricately woven into our Empire’s most primeval history to cloud our eyes from what this world really is? Look at the Colonisation Wars, do they tell us nothing about the Old races and what they were technologically capable of? This could be, in reality, the home world of the Ghoul Hosts or even the ancestral birthplace of the Pariah Alliance”.