Disciple of the Dead (Seraphim Revival Book 3)

by Jacob Holo

  The Sovereign’s Palace was sealed shut. All hangar doors, access roads, and aircar entrances had been closed to visitors, but Tesset wondered how long that could last. After all, these were seraph pilots waiting outside. If they really wanted to see the Keepers, walls wouldn’t stop them.

  Tesset chewed on her thumbnail and muttered, “I bet the Choir doesn’t like this one bit.”

  “Would you please stop mumbling?” Yonu said.

  “Sorry.”

  Jared cleared his throat. “So, Veketon? Mind if I ask you a question?”

  “No, not at all,” Veketon said, looking up.

  “Great. So, what do you think is going on?”

  “I have a few guesses. Why do you ask?”

  “Probably because,” Tesset began. “Out of all of us, your guess is the most informed.”

  “Yeah.” Jared nodded. “What she said.”

  Veketon pointed a finger up in the general direction of the Choir meeting. “This is a power struggle. On one side, we have the Choir. On the other, we have the Keepers. Seraph pilots represent the power they both wish to control.”

  “But there’s a third side to this contest,” Quennin said. “And that’s Seth.”

  “Quite true,” Veketon said.

  “Why’s that?” Tesset asked.

  “Let me explain it like this,” Veketon said. “Seraphs and their pilots are an incredibly powerful force, but who controls them? The Choir appears to, but its grip is flimsy, and we have seen its influence slip away piece by piece with the emergence of the Earth Nation. Even worse, the Keepers represent an authority superseding the Choir’s own. Just look at the pilots gathering outside for your proof. They’re gathering in direct opposition to Choir orders.

  “But the Keepers can’t just snatch away control, even if they wanted to. They fear the seraph pilots, true, but they themselves cannot leash them. Just look at Haanuphel when she came into this universe. She can hardly walk. Can you imagine the Keepers trying to enforce their authority? I find that notion mildly amusing.”

  “So where does Seth come in?” Tesset asked.

  “Keeper Elexen represents a middle ground between the two extremes,” Veketon said. “He is part Choir: a pilot of Aktenzek, one of the most respected and revered pilots in Aktenai history, in fact. But he is also part Keeper. He is the Slayer of the Bane, and for that they have accepted him into their ranks, despite his origins and young age.

  “Keeper Elexen may represent a solution, if you will. A compromise between the two competing extremes. It will be interesting to see where Sovereign Daelus comes down in all this. His input may affect matters greatly, and I suspect he may defy the Choir openly and support Seth’s position.”

  “Then how do you think this will shake out?” Jared asked.

  “It’s very hard to say.”

  Tesset set her fork down and pushed the plate away. For some reason, all this talk of Seth made her think of Jack; the two remained closely mixed in her mind. She slumped deeper into her chair, regrets piling up in her head again. She’d never told him, had never found the courage to share the wondrous news with him.

  And now it was too late.

  Her hand pressed softly against her stomach, and she pondered the fate of her unborn child. Events of the next few hours might very well determine the child’s fate, and she felt a sad nervousness building within her.

  I wish Jack was still here…

  “Tesset, are you okay?” Quennin asked.

  She sniffled and rubbed a finger underneath her blindfold. She hadn’t realized she was crying.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m okay.”

  Quennin leaned over, tentative sympathy radiating from her aura.

  “Hey, how about you and I go for a walk?” she said.

  “Umm…” Tesset’s heart started beating faster.

  “The two of us haven’t had a proper chance to talk. Now is as good a time as any, I think.”

  Tesset fiddled with her blindfold, adjusted it, straightened it, then realized what she was doing and forced both hands into her lap. She focused on Quennin’s aura, trying to find something amiss, some ulterior motive. But she found none. It was just as she had said it.

  “Uhh, sure. I guess so.” Tesset stood up. “We can head out the back and walk along the main causeway. People tell me it’s scenic.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  Yonu stared at Quennin’s back as they left, tepid resentment simmering across her aura.

  When they were safely out of earshot, Tesset said, “Yonu seems less edgy around you lately.”

  Quennin nodded. “We’ve come to an agreement of sorts.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “I went to speak with the Choir earlier today and… I talked with Yonu’s parents.”

  “The ones you, ahhh…”

  “Killed? Yeah, that would be them. Renseki Zo Nezrii and Renseki Mezen Daed.”

  The two women took a wide stairway down one level and came to a set of the aircar docks along the Palace’s main airshaft causeway: a one kilometer square chasm.

  “So, how did that go?” Tesset asked.

  “About as well as could be expected. We got a lot off our chests, but then Yonu showed up as we were talking.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t pretty,” Quennin said. “But I guess you’d say we came to an understanding. It was a beginning, at least.” Hints of amusement glowed in her aura. “There’s a lot of both parents in her. The good and the bad.”

  They walked past the aircar docks and came to a wide semi-circular platform that extended into the airshaft. Quennin leaned against the railing and looked straight up.

  “Wow. That is quite a view.”

  “Uh huh,” Tesset said blandly.

  “I think I can see all the way up to the Palace capstone. And with all the aircar lights, dock lights, and shafts leading off… wait, does that one lead to the Prism Gardens?”

  “Which one?”

  “There, near the top.”

  Tesset tried to judge where Quennin’s finger was pointing. “Um, I think so. To be honest, I didn’t see much besides the residence when I lived here. This place is too big for my tastes.”

  “You know, I always wanted to see the Gardens when I was a kid. Never got a chance to. I kept asking Seth to take me, but he never would. Said it was stupid.”

  “That wasn’t very nice of him.”

  Quennin shrugged. “He was only eleven at the time. If it didn’t involve seraphs, he wasn’t interested.”

  “Hmm, eleven-year-old Seth. That’s actually an amusing thought.”

  “Anyway, I figure I should ask how the kid is doing.”

  “The kid?” Tesset put a hand to her stomach. “Oh! You mean Saera.”

  “Of course. Who did you think I meant?”

  “She’s doing great. I had a chance to check in on her yesterday. She just turned seven, and the caretakers think she’ll be ready to start her pilot training soon.”

  “That’s good to hear. Hopefully, she has a brighter future than Tevyr did.” Quennin pushed off the railing. “Anyway, Tesset.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you came out here with me,” she said. “I think I owe you an apology.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m sure you can imagine what it was like finding out about you and Seth. I kind of blew up.”

  “Understandable, understandable.”

  “I spent a lot of time hating you. Or, at least, the version of you my head created.”

  “Still understandable.”

  “I even went after you on purpose a few times.”

  “Seriously?” Tesset asked. “I thought you did that because I kept sticking grenades to your ships.”

  “Uh, no.”

  “And to those archangel factories.”

  “Not that either.”

  “Oh!” Tesset exclaimed cheerfully. “And the one time I busted one of your halo-wings.”

  Q
uennin reached around and cracked her neck. “Yeah, I felt that one.”

  “If it helps at all, I think I know where you’re coming from. What the Choir did to you was terrible.”

  Quennin smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You know, I might be reaching here, but you’re probably the biggest reason Seth is doing all of this.”

  Quennin nodded slowly, the smile frozen sadly on her face. Powerful currents of regret flowed through her aura.

  “I don’t doubt that for a moment,” she said.

  Tesset was so focused on Quennin that she actually heard the footsteps before she sensed the approaching runner. It was Jared, and he was racing across the aircar dock as fast has his legs could carry him.

  He stopped in front of the two pilots, panting in exhaustion, hands above his knees.

  “Uh, hi, Jared,” Tesset said. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Big announcement!” Jared spread his arms wide for extra emphasis.

  “What, from Seth?”

  “From everyone!”

  Tesset expanded her sense. Behind Jared, Yonu and Veketon were leisurely walking towards the aircar dock.

  “Come on! We’re all invited up top!” Jared climbed into the closest open-canopy aircar and waited for everyone else to pack in. Once all five were onboard, the aircar activated a sphere of localized gravity, lifted off the dock, and accelerated upward. They sped up through the main vertical shaft of the Palace causeway and reached the top dock in less than a minute.

  The pilots stepped out and passed through five separate layers of invisible security. Only Tesset perceived the hidden defenses behind the corridor’s walls. Finally, they came to a large open space occupied by Seth Elexen, Sovereign Vorin Daelus, and a hologram. Haanuphel was no longer present, and Tesset quickly expanded her sense to find her.

  Ah. She’s returned to the Palace’s seraph bays.

  Tesset bowed to her father, who smiled and nodded.

  She leaned over to Yonu and whispered, “Who’s the hologram?”

  “Sovereign Taen Elexen.”

  “Ah.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Seth said. “A lot has happened in a very short span of time. As soon as we’re done here, we’ll address the assembled pilots and dignitaries outside.”

  “So what’s this big announcement?” Jared asked, his aura radiating barely contained excitement.

  “The Choir has agreed to rescind almost all authority over the seraphs and their pilots,” Seth said. “Naturally, the Choir will continue to be the bastion of knowledge it is today as well as the resting place for honored members of our society, but it will no longer hold true power.”

  Vorin stepped forward, a gaunt, imposing figure in his long coat. Tesset noticed that his cheeks were a bit more sunken and his frame slightly more skeletal than she last remembered. He gestured to the hologram of Seth’s father.

  “The Choir has decided graciously to relinquish power instead of complicating the matter.”

  “Quite so,” Taen said. “To use my son’s words, the dead shall no longer rule the living.”

  “Precisely,” Seth said.

  “Are the Keepers taking over?” Yonu asked.

  “No,” Seth said. “We have merely formalized diplomatic relations with them. The Keepers are concerned with our strength, but time and effort on our part will soften that. For now, they have agreed to peaceful coexistence only, and we shall build upon that.”

  “So, who’s in charge?” Jared asked.

  Seth, Vorin, and the hologram of Taen exchanged looks, as if unsure who should make this final announcement.

  “Come on, who’s in charge?” Jared asked again.

  “Sovereign Daelus will be stepping down,” Seth said.

  “Yes, and quite willingly, I might add,” Vorin said. “Thirty years of this responsibility have been long enough. Life was easier when I was allowed to blow up my problems.”

  “And I will take his place,” Seth said.

  For some reason Tesset wasn’t shocked by the news. A little surprised, yes. Gladdened, yes. But definitely not shocked. Yonu, Jared, and Quennin each greeted it with different mixes of surprise and relief, but Veketon was the only one who simply nodded. He’d expected this outcome from the beginning.

  “A natural choice,” Veketon said. “You are in the line of succession, after all. Will you be taking direct control of the seraph legion?”

  “That is the intention,” Seth said. “We will see how the pilots themselves react soon enough.”

  “And you still intend to unite humanity?” Veketon asked.

  “Yes. I hope to work towards the full reintegration of the Aktenai, the Grendeni, the Seedings, and even the Outcasts. I know it’s ambitious, but even small progress in this direction will surely strengthen our position.”

  Veketon nodded, deep in thought. Tesset felt the powerful pulsing of his intellect at work.

  “Integration with even the Outcasts,” Veketon whispered to himself. “Perhaps if… yes, perhaps if we were to do that… we could achieve in three hundred… no, maybe as few as two hundred years if we…”

  He trailed off and looked up, finally noticing the whole room staring at him.

  “My apologies. I was thinking out loud.”

  “Come,” Seth said. “We must address the pilots gathered outside.”

  “You want us to come with you?” Tesset asked.

  “Yes.”

  “All of us?” Quennin asked.

  “Of course. I believe our aircars are prepared.” Seth led his comrades, friends, lovers, and former enemies outside with a confident smile. “Let’s not keep the Alliance waiting.”

  Chapter 23

  Honor and Duty

  Great doors opened near the top of the Sovereign’s Palace, its mirror-polished slopes gleaming under a simulated sky. Two aircars flew out of the giant pyramid and descended towards the landing platform.

  From Veketon’s vantage point in one of the aircars, the buttress of reaching silver appeared thin and insignificant against the pyramid’s immensity, and yet tens of thousands of people and hundreds of seraphs filled the platform’s circular tip.

  Even more seraphs waited in the city below. Above them, a simulacrum of sky concealed Aktenzek’s fold engines behind a perfect blue illusion. It was high noon over the Palace.

  “Look!” Jared pointed back towards the Palace. Another set of giant doors slid open near the bottom, and Haanuphel’s white seraph flew out and joined their aircars, her chaos shunts glowing dimly.

  Veketon felt the seraph’s eyes on him for a brief moment.

  Even you’re present to help Seth deliver his message, he thought.

  The aircars descended, then flew parallel along the long silver arm supporting the landing platform. Ahead a plateau rose in front of the crowds, and the aircars landed at the rear.

  Veketon stepped out of the aircar and followed the other pilots across the plateau. The air hummed with excited, overlapping conversations. Behind him, Haanuphel’s seraph landed softly: a tall and impressive symbol of support for Seth’s grand vision.

  Seth and Vorin exited the second aircar and proceeded confidently towards the plateau’s front. Several Choir holograms materialized behind them. Most were past sovereigns, and none were over two thousand years old.

  So the old guard has finally lost its power, Veketon thought, and for some reason, the revelation pleased him. To Seth’s right were scores of dignitaries: Grendeni Executives, Earth Nation ambassadors, Aktenai governors, more Choir holograms, Mediator Fuurion, and enough seating for six more people. Veketon and the others took their places in the front row and faced the new and old sovereigns.

  Vorin stepped forward. His amplified voice boomed out across the crowd.

  “People of Aktenzek, Earth, and the Grendeni schisms! Honored guests of the Fellerossi! I present to you the new Sovereign of Aktenzek: the Slayer of the Bane, Keeper Seth Elexen!”

  All of the dignitaries on the plateau a
nd the vast majority of the assembled pilots fell to one knee and bowed. The few Earth Nation representatives clapped loudly, as was their custom.

  Vorin stepped aside and gestured for Seth to come forward. Veketon thought he made quite a striking image elevated above the crowds with Haanuphel’s seraph at his back. Two giant holographic close-ups of Seth activated to either side, almost as large as Haanuphel’s seraph.

  The crowd stood and fell silent.

  The plateau dignitaries took their seats.

  “An age has come to a close,” Seth began. “The Bane has been defeated, the Gate to the Homeland has been secured, and those responsible for our plight have been brought to justice.”

  Seth gestured to the holograms at his sides. His image vanished, replaced with a chaos fiend battling against Alliance seraphs and thrones.

  “But a new challenge is before us,” he said. “Here is an enemy that seeks to invade our universe and the Homeland beyond it. Do you think it cares that you are Forsaken or Fallen? Would it make a distinction between Earther or Outcast? No. Such an enemy is blind to those differences. We are all humans. We are all enemies.

  “So what shall we do? Wait for these creatures to attack again? Wait for them to invade this universe and destroy the peace we have fought so hard for? No! Instead of waiting for our deaths to come to us, we shall prepare. We shall unite the disparate pieces of humanity, melding them together to form a single Grand Alliance. This we shall do! This we must do!”

  The crowds remained silent, awaiting Seth’s words. As Veketon looked across them, a realization struck him. It wasn’t the firm conviction of Seth’s voice or the careful choice of his words that was swaying these pilots. It was who was delivering the message. They all knew Seth, either through reputation or from personally fighting alongside him. They knew that if Seth spoke these words, he believed.

  Because of that, many of them began to believe as well. Not all of them, but enough. More than enough.

  “The tasks before us are monumental,” Seth continued. “But our societies have already achieved great things. A hundred years ago, who could have imaged Aktenai and Grendeni and Earthers fighting side by side? We have already shown that humanity has the strength to achieve a lasting unity.”

  Seth gestured behind him. “And we are not alone in this fight. The Keepers, with their great wisdom and technology, will be at our sides as we venture forward into this new age.”