.::||{...Audience with the Sultan...}||::.
The audience chambers were grand and massive, crystal from top to bottom, backed by the finest white marbles the system had to offer. It overlooked the royal space port and domed up into the sky, unmistakable and glittering even at the dead of night. Truly a space to inspire awe and majesty in those that visited Baadris. Late night courtesans lingered along the edges, summoned or loitering about in the hopes of learning what the fuss had been about. There were rumors of a dragon, and the statue glowing once more… of gods and miracles and hope. It was enough to set the nobility on edge. Dressed in wispy gowns of organza and filmy silks, fine crystalline wings attached to backs like so many precious diamonds, the court glittered as the pair of gods entered.
Quiet descended immediately, all eyes turning to the finely dressed visitors. Some recognized them from descriptions of their underlings and frowned or sniffed in various forms of approval or dismissal. This audience was sure to be short.
At the far end of the room, guarded by stern-looking soldiers in carefully polished armor and crystal swords gleaming, held in the ceremonial position, was the throne. Glass, crystal, and gems… it stood tall and proud, delicate and bold at the same time. It was not gaudy, not by this world’s standards, and it was empty. The Sultan had not yet arrived.
As to be expected. He was the ruler of this land, you waited on him – not the other way around.
As the wait began, the silence of the nobility gave way to small ripples of noise, whispers of the rumors surrounding the two going across the large room and back in gentle waves. It was easy to see the statue of Origin through several of the windows ringing the dome - and with it the pastel shine of the active Gate. A few people here and there could be seen stealing occasional glances back at it, as if still not believing the phenomenon was there or expecting that it might vanish at any moment. Some bitter words crossed the dome about how it would be nice if it
did go away, so they could dismiss these visitors as a bunch of lunatics and they could get on with their lives.
Glaucon's eyes cast cooly across the room, taking every detail of his surroundings his eyes would let him. They had an audience every bit as skeptic as the Captain and His Majesty seemed to be, but he still had an air of confidence about him, giving a nod to Glyph as they stepped in. He was Judgment, he had done this sort of thing countless times in the past... even without having even started his ascent yet, he felt like he was in his element. They
would convert this city. They had to.
It would be nice if he were given permission to sit, however. David's legs felt like they should have given out on him hours ago and the only things keeping him upright were marionette strings of willpower and determination.
Glyph followed after Glaucon, looking up in amazement at the glittering expanse of ceiling. So very elaborate. The part of him connected to Malh'reth stirred and made him smile. So very shiny as well. The god chuckled to himself, amused that his host's bias towards all things shiny added to the appreciative awe.
Still, the silence crashed in against his senses and drew him back to the task at hand. A hall full of doubters... though by the curious look on a few people's face, some on the edge of casting that doubt off. It was hard to deny Gate and the fires of belief that were working at the city. But Glyph knew that as much as they could stir the people's heart, the city would not move without the agreement of it's puppeteers. These were the people they needed to convince... the nobles... and the Sultan, where ever he might be.
Glancing to his companion, he smiled and nodded. This was not his place... his place was in the wilds with the forests. Glyph had never been a god to enjoy the cities, too many people and not enough nature. He believed, though, that this was where Glaucon would shine. Judgement was a hefty domain and its god well suited to the ruling of it. "I will follow your lead and assist where I can." He spoke softly, leaning towards the other host so that only Glaucon would hear.
He would not look for Malh'reth until the Sultan appeared.
It was some few minutes before a well-dressed servant, higher up in the hierarchy from his clothing, dashed in and stood before the throne. "His Majesty, Emperor of Four Stars, Sultan of Baadris, Jherrem Iben Vathassae the Fifth. " When he finished, he dipped into a bow and stepped extended his hand as he back away. All around, the nobles echoed that bow to varying degrees, signaling their ranks - the deeper the bow or curtsy the lower the rank in comparison.
A man, dressed in surprisingly simple garb, stepped forth as the echo of his servant's announcement faded. He was a proud man, intelligent and well kept. Upon his tailored outfit, golden symbols depicting the statue of Origin decorated the cuffs and echoing patterns swirled up and away. His gaze, sharp and inquistive, missed little as it swept the room before settling on Glyph and Glaucon. "Are these the two who have disturbed my palace at this late hour?" His voice, will not raise to a shout, held a sort of relaxed power - a subtle confidence one would associate with any politician.
He inclined his head then, as the Captain nodded, bowed, and stepped away, leaving the two to fend for themselves. "What do you call yourselves?" Neutral expression, neutral question... he knew they had a plan, that this was likely linked to that dragon and the reports of... restlessness in the city. Something was changing and he fully intended to ride its crest to completion - his family had weathered storms for twelve generations and he would not succumb now.
The Sultan was... appallingly plain. From the way he strode into the room to how he phrased his words, it was easy to get a general reading of what kind of man he was. Shrewd. Businesslike.
He's a ******** politician, dude. They're all a bunch of self-interested assholes.
Glaucon almost started at the sudden commentary from his host. Not only was it unexpected, but it seemed about right. Their words would have to be chosen with care if they wanted to make the Emperor of Four Stars realize that the fast approach to the End of All was something that he and his people should be concerned with.
He was going to have to be straighforward, no matter how ridiculous he might sound - but that wouldn't pose much of a problem, as Judgment was straightforward by nature.
I am Glaucon, the Verdict of Midas, Judgment," he started,
"and my companion is Glyph, the Silvim Illustire, Forest."
As the Sultan entered, Forest's head turned to watch as well. The man was so plain! No royal train, no ridiculously gaudy crown... just simple but elegant clothing befitting a king. Which either made him a humble ruler or a very dangerous man who knew the value of first impressions. He hoped the man would not be terribly difficult.
Glyph inclined his head as Glaucon introduced him, gaze flicking to the edges where murmurs errupted in the wings of the hall.
Judgement? So soon!?
What of Forest?
They cannot be gods.
The shuffling of feet quieted when the Sultan nodded once more, "Greetings. Those are grand claims, to be Judgement... and Forest incarnate. Do forgive my disbelief for I have never had the honour of meeting supposed gods before, but I cannot tell your godhood from your appearances." He smiled warmly, expression apologetic and pleasant even though his voice told them he did not believe the claim. And he had expected something... more befitting a god of Judgement. And surely, a spirit of nature such as Forest was, would be... more green? A quiet sigh, "You've gone to such lengths to receive an audience and here I sit. What is it you've come to make a case for?"
Malh'reth.... His attention turned inward, then searching for his host.
Yes? The mage's mind rose to the fore, hovering just behind the god's, Is that the Sultan? Glyph nodded and Malh'reth sighed. This is going to be hard.
Among the mutterings that washed over the room, there was one right next to Forest: an aside from Judgement, in an urgent whisper.
"Glyph. The audience..."
It was hopefully obvious what he meant. They had come here to convince the Sultan, but to have people watch the discussion progress changed the entire nature of their visit. Now, they wouldn't be speaking to one person, but to a group of highly influential individuals. If those nobles could be convinced... then Glaucon imagined that Jherrem would be forced to follow if he wanted to keep the extensive title that he had been introduced with.
"Your skepticism is understandable," he started, putting a little more volume in his voice so the other people would hear him clearly.
"It is, however, quite easily solved. If you want to see any evidence of our claims of hailing from the House of the Gods, then you would merely need to step through that Gate we arrived here from." A free hand lifted to his side, making a casual gesture towards the statue of Origin through the dome's windows, and with it the portal that was still illuminating the roofs of the city below.
"There are many gods to be found there besides myself, Glyph and our companions."
The hand fell from the air to reach into a pocket, pulling out a large, crimson flower.
"As for our reason for being here... first, I wish to return this lotus to you, as a token of goodwill. My attendant mistakenly took it from your gardens, and I hope that you will accept it with my full apology on her behalf."
Glyph nodded at the other's aside, understanding that they were putting on a show not just for the head of state but the ruling body as well.
Obligingly, the Sultan glanced out the windows at the still-open gate, the golden light that had seen to it his gardens were sealed off. They linked directly with his personal bedchambers and those of his wives and concubines... it had to have been cut off. "As tempting an offer as that sounds, I must stay here and watch over my people. These times are hard, I'm sure you've seen, and I am working day and night to maintain the peace and prosperity of these lands. I do understand, however, that gods are important figures and as fellow leaders they oversee a great many things and cannot be called upon at any random time." His tone was conversational as he gestured with a hand and smiled.
Though the smile faltered and his expression darkened, "To take a sacred lotus from my Gardens is a death penalty. Were you not aware of this? They are symbols of perfection, creation, and unity, growing only at the base of that most magnificent statue." The nobles twittered and gossiped at that, wondering at the foolishness of these two. What the one with the cane held was a death sentence...
Glyph met Glaucon's gaze as he stepped forward and took the lotus from the god, holding it up. "At the time, we did not know. However, your symbol of perfection is, by that very nature, a symbol of our Lord, the Twin Crown. Creation... Origin." He gestured up at the statue, "That thing you worship, the glorious statue, is an effigy of the Twin Crown and around it these lotuses grow. We've come simply to try to assist you and avert the End that is drawing nigh. All around you are hints and relics of a time long gone by. That gate leads to the Pantheon where we dwell, that statue is in the image of our King, and these flowers are symbols of that Original power." As he'd spoken, he'd drawn closer to the king and then knelt, head bowed to lay the lotus before him. A shame he wasn't stronger or he would have tried to spruce it up.
Stepping back, he bowed and took up his position beside Glaucon, ears swivelling to catch the whispers throughout the hall.
They had a point... nothing the newcomer had said was being argued... Even the king seemed thoughtful.
"Intriguing words. You say you offer help. Just what, exactly, is it you intend to do? Clearly you want something of me if you stand here - something more then returning a sacred flower." His gaze flicked to Glaucon, "You implied a second reason. Speak it." If nothing else, these two were entertaining. The names they brought forth were just that - names. They had their own gods already and did not need knew ones, believed his court felt the same especially when had yet to produce evidence of their high-reaching claims.
There was a bit of a smirk at how conversational Jherrem was being, giving all manner of excuses for why he would refuse to see the evidence that had been offered him.
"If you are so busy with your affairs, why not send a servant? You are an Emperor, I am sure that you have enough at your disposal. If not, then consider the invitation extended to all present here and the citizens of Baadris - the Gate extends outside your palace wall, after all." He went with the casual tone that had been set, but there was a clear message hidden behind it: if he didn't decide to see what was beyond that portal,
someone would, whether out of belief or curiosity.
The tension in the air shifted at that knowledge, the whispers of the onlookers showing no sign of stopping even while the supposed gods were speaking.
Glaucon nodded at Glyph's words, feeling that he didn't need to see anything to add to it. Everything he had intended to say in that regard had just been said, and rather eloquently.
He met the Sultan's gaze with equal intensity, and he carefully wove his reply, slowly beginning to walk across the room and speaking with the gentle pace he had used for countless Ages to sway the opinions of mortals and gods alike. It held no divine resonance, but still echoed boldly across the glass and crystal walls, punctuated by the soft thump of a wooden cane against the polished floor.
"We arrived here seeking answers buried in the past, but ended up finding ones that exist in the present. In this city... and your people." His host's blue eyes moved across the room, making contact with each noble who was present at the audience.
"The key to the salvation of All That Is lies in your willpower."
For a moment, the only sound that rose above the muttering was the gentle clack and thump of Glaucon walking, allowing the mortals a moment so that questions could begin blooming in their minds. He nodded to Malh'reth, silently asking him to illustrate his presentation.
"If you have ever doubted the existence of the divine.. or wondered if they have forsaken you... it is because, in an Age long before your city, the mortals forsook the gods. Belief in them dwindled until they were only sparks of curiosity in their hearts and minds, and soon even those dimmed and died out until all that was left of us were abandoned ideas and fragments of prayers." His walking slowed to a stop for a moment so he could gaze out the window at the image of Origin.
"As those of you who have lost family members might be able to imagine, the Twin Crown was heartbroken. He remained alone for more years than there are stars in the Universe, gathering those eroded pieces of our essences so that we may return. We are all being reborn and ascending to the power we once had... but we can only regain this power through the recognition and reverence of mortals."
And he began walking again, purposefully towards the Sultan this time, locking eyes with him again.
"And now our Emperor, Origin... he has lost his power, turning into the very Thing that has been slowly eroding away at the world. Unless we can stop this, it will devour everything, leaving only Void... you, your people, your kingdom - all violently unmade.
"We are asking you to help us restore Creation - to restore his power. Turn your love for his image in your palace into reverence fit for a god. Gather the flowers from your gardens and place them at His throne as offerings from you, the nobles, the people of your city, and the countless souls of the dead that wander the streets here."
Of course, there was going to be that self-interested question... why should His Majesty care, and why should he do it? Glaucon had an answer to it before it could be asked.
"If you grant us this favor, then you will be in His. The Twin Crown will know of the mortals who were able to remind him what it is to be Creation, and it will immortalize the City of Glass as a place of legend... a kingdom prized by none other than the Emperor of All That Is."
The Sultan observed his attendant's interest in that remark and frowned ever so slightly. The currents were beginning to swirl towards these two strangers... That could not be had and yet he could not simply order their executions - not without losing a great deal of face. Each ounce of respect and fear had been carefully earned or taken and losing that delicate balance meant a fall from grace he would not enjoy.
And then it was story time. A smile played across his face at that, bemused by the words that started the tale out. Words were just that, refutable, limited and changeable.
However, he wasn't counting on the images that suddenly curled up around the supposed god as Malh'reth stepped to the fore and nodded in return, tugging images into the air. Like a movie, scenes scrolled through the air, visible from every angle, of their home wrapped in lava and brimstone... of the people Malh'reth had met and door they'd passed through. Of course, it was elaborate and not quite true to life as the mage had not touched much of what he was illustrating, relying on interpretation to keep him close to the truth.
When Glaucon switched veins and spoke of their rebirth, Glyph supplied images, snippets of memory that Malh'reth wove into freeze frames - gems, rebirth... an expansion of knowledge and power that pushed outward as a seed sprouts. It faded away, replaced by a glittering image of the Origin caryatid, animated now and fashioning pearls and gems... struck down by a force unknown.
However, smaller images appeared... flashes of colour, wisps of wing-like appendages, echoes of the people found in Baadris. Kneeling and lifting lotuses up, their belief swirling about the fallen god and Origin stirring, rising once more. The image swung around and at the head of the people was a stately figure, standing forward and the conduit through which the will and belief flowed. It was the Sultan.
As Glaucon's speech came to an end, so did the swirling smoke-like shapes dissolve and splash down to curl around the edges of the room to touch the feet of everyone present.
Jherrem sat back in his chair, fingers drumming on the armrests. The words had matched the images well and the ideas set forth compelling... and still he would not budge. "You came for flowers?" He asked, almost incredulous. This whole affair was for flowers... and some holy search? The Sultan shook his head. There was nothing there for him... nothing truly for the people either.
At least, he thought so until Glaucon's last comment. It caught his attention. Made him wonder. Flowers were flowers... even if they were important so some kind of powerful god... To gain the favour of such a being, to try when nothing harmful would come of it... It was a powerful proposition. Still, he affected neutrality and tilted his head to the side, "Is that all you desire? That I open my Gardens to you? There is no blood shed there and only beauty is allowed to grace the soils in which the flowers grow. Those are the terms and conditions of entering the Gardens. You propose I throw those ancient traditions out the window? I am a leader of many but such decisions must be made with the knowledge of the heart of the people. This is not a dictatorship, regardless of how much I agree, or disagree, with you."
"You shouldn't be making such attempts to make our journey appear so frivolous, Your Majesty," Glaucon warned. Inwardly, he was lamenting how his words would once cut through lies like the sword of a well-trained assassin and bring mortals to the truth they were trying to hide themselves from... but he would have to make do with the simple voice of his host for now.
"The flowers are but a part of this. You know this, as do I and all others present. They would have no purpose or value at all to Origin unless they were presented as offerings, symbols of mortal worship."
At the talk of tradition and old values, he merely shook his head.
"If you wish to make that argument, then it means you very well should open the Gardens, seeing as its centerpiece comes from traditions far more ancient than yours. This land belonged to the gods before it belonged to you - the caryatid you selfishly claim as yours is evidence of that..."
This discussion was starting to look like it could go on for a while - the Sultan was clearly not going to budge unless the benefits to his own self-interest became too great to resist.
It was half-relief, half-annoyance that one of the palace's many perpetually nervous servants picked his way to where the Sultan sat, bowing to him with an abundance of energy before presenting a sealed envelope and babbling something about an urgent message from a member of some family or another and how they advised he should read it carefully before he continued his discussion with his guests. After several mentions of a thousand apologies for the intrusion, he had left the floor.
Jherrem shook his head at the gods, though a smile played across his face. They would not be easily swayed and Judgement had some points... points he would rather remain dusty. "I do not claim for your journey to be frivilous, merely hard to swallow. Those gems you spoke of..." He tapped his forehead to indicate David's, "You claim they hold the essence of a god and yet I see and hear no sign of a host... How do I know this isn't a trick played by technologies unknown to us?" Again, he gestured but this time to the space port that was visible through the windows. "Ours is a world familiar with magic and technology alike, I am afraid."
"I am a host. And I am willing. This is beyond parlour tricks and new technologies, your majesty. We wish, truly, for your survival. Besides," Malh'reth replied as he stepped forward and tacked on a few comments to the end of Glaucon's little blurb, "What could it hurt? We are not demanding sacrifices nor are we expecting works of glory in our names. What we do want is for you to consider the truth in our words and perhaps take a step towards it - the End is drawing near, all of your people are aware of that and I certain your Lordship is as well." He flicked his gaze around as he stepped around to the other side of Judgement, "Myself, Glaucon, and the others we've travelled with - if we are wrong, do with us as you wish. If we are right, however.... then you'll have made contact with the ruling bodies of the very universe."
Internally, Glyph pondered the other's words and smiled. This journey was proving to be an opportunity for the mage to adjust to his fate, something the god was infinitely glad for. He would keep his word and continue to be gentle, but it was reassuring to know his host was making progress.
The mage set a hand lightly on David's shoulder, "Judgement's argument is sound, surely one as wi-" He was cut off as the servant entered and the Sultan's attention immediately fixed on a piece of paper that was quickly passed to him. What was that? Curiously, he looked to Glaucon and wondered if perhaps the other knew.
There was a frown upon his face as he processed both the words on the document and the words of the gods. The Sultan could feel the beginnings of a bind trapping him and did not like it. The horned man was right in some respects... and the return for such endeavors great. Shifting on his throne, he nodded, "After some thought I will grant you access to the Gardens. You will be supervised by my guard and any further theft is punishable by death." It seemed a trivial matter in comparison to the thing in his hand now... this aligning of a house.
Had their words carried enough weight to sway the heart of some of the nobles? It was a frightening prospect - he was an elected member, the leader of the strongest house in Baadris and yet... he depended on the alliances and feuds of the other Houses to maintain his position. If they sided with these two, it would strip him of allies and leave him vulnerable to coup.
It must be a fake.
Lifting the document high and turning it to face the hall, he sat forward in his chair, "You seek to pressure me with such things? You've proven you can conjure images... what else is it you can do, I wonder?" Waving his other hand, he spoke aside, hurriedly, "Call a Caucus meeting. This document is to be verified, I want to know where they found the seal of this house." Of course, it would an opportunity to test the waters as well, to find where the nation was heading.
The servant nodded and skittered away, knowing it was important indeed for the Caucus to be held so soon.
Turning back to Malh'reth and Glaucon, he frowned, "Is there anything else you wished to discuss?"
"A god doesn't usually have a shitty crippled body, you stupid p***k."
A fresh wave of whispers and murmurs drifted through the room, leaving Glaucon momentarily confused until he could piece together what had just happened. His host had been content to merely simmer behind his mind for the proceedings so far, but at the Sultan's last remark he had boiled to the surface so easily it had caught Judgment off guard. The nerve disorder this body had gave David a distinct advantage when he wanted to take control - where the god still fumbled to make it move, the mortal knew exactly where to circumvent the damage.
David, please choose your words more carefully...
"
No," he reprimanded the voice in his head. "You're all about truth and s**t - well, that's the truth about this guy. He's a
stupid p***k. You know it, I know it, everyone here knows it, and I bet they're ******** sick of it." A huff of air escaped from his teeth, causing a lock of inky hair to jump across the orange gem on his forehead. "End of the world, and all this douche cares about is staying the king of town while it happens, and he's treating this whole deal like it's a ********
game. If I had it my way you'd be impeached, a*****e."
One last death glare was shot at the Sultan before it reverted back into the calm gaze of Judgment. Well... if nothing else, that along with Malh'reth following with his piece gave some evidence of their mortal hosts. As for David's effect on the exchange... well... for some reason, Glaucon found himself less disapproving of the intervention than he thought he would be. There
was a valid point in that small cluster of insults. Not everyone in this city was so approving of the Sultan, and they had yet to see how far that discontent extended.
The calling of a Caucus meeting meant that line of thinking was going to be explored very soon...
"I have nothing else to discuss with you," Glaucon replied.
"Please, go ahead with your meeting so you can come to a decision as soon as possible - I am not sure how much time we have before the End, and I would like it to be used wisely."
"If someone could send word to Lisana of Laughter and Cosine of Numbers that the Gardens have been opened, they would have our gratitude for it," he added as an afterthought to any servants who might be listening.
Glyph and Glaucon alike simply stared at David, mouth hanging open in an ‘o’ of surprise. Here they were, trying to tip toe around a ruler of some caliber and the crotchety cripple had just cussed out the Sultan. It was hard to keep a straight face as the whispers broke out among the nobles – it was almost funny. The other’s blunt insults carried the sort of message that was hard to digest otherwise and from the look on the Sultan’s face, it had gotten through loud and clear.
“David…” Malh’reth just shook his head and hoped the red in the king’s face was not the bloom of vengeful anger.
The Sultan remained in his seat, brow arching higher and higher upon his forehead as the eloquent words gave way to the ramblings of an uneducated git. a*****e? p***k? Though he was not familiar with these particular terms, the connotations were crystal clear. How dare he! Coming to his feet, Jherrem glared down upon the ones who claimed they were gods and felt his face turn red.
Had the chance not been there… had the End not been so obvious…. If only events proposed a different path, he would have called their execution then and there. As it was, an idea had been planted and though the Sultan ignored it for now, it was growing – fed by the evidence and news being presented to him. Such a change in personality, their arrival, their goals… it was beginning to add up much to his charign.
And now this letter was further proof that their words may carry some scrap of truth. His rivals were no fools and while they likely wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to oust him and his family… they would not ally themselves with an obviously incapable group. Growling to himself, hands fisted, he nodded and brought the session to a close with a voice that shook from the effort it took to remain civil in his words, “You are dismissed. Cause any further trouble within the city limits and you will be detained. Contact will be made should it be deemed neccesary to continue these discussions.” Don’t expect a call his tone said as he swept from the chamber, leaving further whispers and gossip in his wake.
Word of this Audience was sure to spread within the day it would take to gather the nobles and conduct the Caucus.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the hours that followed the initial Audience, the nobles gathered with much grumbling and complaining of such hurry. What could possibly be so pressing to call on all the major houses? Granted, they all held quarters in the palace and had representatives within the city but there was business to attend to outside the Sultan’s home. Imports were barely trickling in, ships had fallen into disrepair, water was growing more and more scarce… it was becoming a giant chessgame of sabotage and intrigue to spirit away what you could not lock into agreements. Everyone wanted to survive.
When the meeting was finally called into order and the various groups gathered, arranged, and briefed, it was not long before they fell into heated discussions. At the heart of it all, the Sultan sat, amazed at the swiftness with which the council was changing. Many had heard of the newcomers already, had come with ready-formed opinions – both for and against – but the general tone was receptive.
Some questioned his morals, others questioned the drawbacks of such a scheme and still others tried to turn his decisions into something that would reveal his back to them. Why not try it? Everyone already knew the world was decaying… dying and not just their world either. There had even been a few reports of demons inside the city, an unheard of occurrence. Had some of his own guard not already abandoned their posts? If it was truly the Sultan’s aim to maintain peace, he would investigate this more thoroughly.
While he held veto power over the council as the Sultan, he was being shunted into a passage that was restricting his movement. Ignore the Caucus and face the wrath of the families combined when he’d orchestrated the very interhouse feuds that kept them alienated just enough from one another or follow their suggestions and become naught more then a puppet, losing face and respect alike.
After he’d presented the letter, verified it despite much grumbling, a few of the other families had thrown their lots in with the first – citing similar reasons and making the great man sweat. Selfish as some may have seemed, it was apparent that at the heart of these people, something had taken hold and offered an out. A glorious, memorable, powerful out laying in wait for any who chose to strive for it.
It had not gone well.
And so, on the second day after Malh’reth, Glyph, Glaucon, David, and their companions had spoken to the king, a servant found their rooms – near the ones the goddesses had been given and delivered an ornate envelope. It was written in an ornate but regal script, a formal invite with the Sultan’s personal seal on both the back of the envelope and the bottom of the letter, just below a signature. The paper was not normal, but enchanted glass – made to fold and flex like paper with jet black script across it’s surface, scrolling like an e-book.
It seemed the Sultan had thought over their audience at some length and desired a second meeting – one to properly hash out their plans. He understood the need for a speedy agreement and wanted to explore the situation some more. All in all, it seemed the Sultan – while still defiant – was at least willing to consider them seriously now.
The letter was slipped quietly under the door, which could have gone unnoticed for another few hours were it not for another servant coming in just a few minutes later to deliver some bread and fruit for the supposedly divine guests within the room.
It was with a great deal of reluctance that David pulled himself into a sitting position on the plush couch he had been sleeping on, squinting blearily in front of him and rubbing his face. Normally he would have slept as soundly as the dead with his body having been as overexerted as it was... but some idiots right next door were having a
party, of all things. Throughout half of that night he had to deal with the bickering and laughing of what sounded like a third of the city's population, and he had only been able to doze off just as the sunlight was beginning to throw prisms through the crystal windows.
He opened the envelope and looked over it with the air of someone trying to get something interesting out of their junk mail, his free hand picking at a cluster of small fruits that could be best described as pearly, chalky grapes.
"Hey, Mal?" he called to the mage rooming with him. "King Douche wants to talk to us again. We shouldn't keep him waiting."
Malh’reth grumbled something about leaving him alone and being tired, rolled over on the couch and smacked his lips. He’d had a similarly rough night and was exhausted. He’d cast a great deal of magic and by the time they’d gotten back to their apartments, his knees were weak and his vision kept fading in and out of complete black – a strange thing for someone who saw the world in auras.
Glyph stirred within the mage, having caught the words even if his host hadn’t and mentally poked the Aurion. Malh’reth… he said the Sultan wants to speak to us again.
He shifted uncomfortably, face screwing up as though a headache had settled in and lifted his head a touch, “What…? Sultan wants- what!? Really?” Hope mingled with surprise as the mage sat up properly, peering in David’s direction.
"Yeeee-up," the cripple answered, waving the letter at level with his shoulder so the mage could see it. He considered tossing it to him for a split second, but quickly decided against it, knowing it probably wouldn't make it far enough and not wanting to discover whether it would shatter like the glass it was made of if it ended up hitting the floor. Instead he set it on the table so Malh'reth (or Glyph) could pick it up and read it for himself. "That's probably our pass into the room, too. When you're ready we can just bug a guard into taking us back up there."
He shook his head, rather relieved to find that something had gone in their favour. A few days ago it had seemed like the Sultan had made his decision... but now. What could it mean? Was he more open to their pleas?
"We are ready. Are you?" Glyph's voice filled the air with it's slightly different tones. Rising, the god took the tablet and read it over, bemused and enthused. This must be a good sign. Brushing off trousers and sleeves, he picked at Mal's clothing for a few minutes before stepping forward to properly present himself. "You're probably correct, this is likely a pass. I will carry it."
Glyph... Malh'reth replied, sounding displeased.
"Yes?" The god's attention turned inwards as he mused.
Give me my body back? You'll have it eventually, anyway. The mage's tone was dry and humorless as he watched from behind the god's conciousness.
"Oh? Ah. Apologies..." He faded off as Malh'reth stepped forward and grumbled slightly. "You could ask, you know." The mage felt an apologetic shrug within his mind and smiled as the god fell quiet, sitting back to watch for now. "Are you ready?"
Turning his gaze to David, he rubbed his hands together and tilted his head towards the door.
"Yeah, alright," David replied, his eyes briefly following Mal's head-tilt towards the door. The time it took for him to get up probably would have been enough for the mage to handle it himself, what with having to carefully reach down to the floor for his cane and then pulling himself up to a standing position - but at least this way the guard they were going to summon wouldn't have to be kept waiting with it. After scarfing down a tuft of bread turn off from the loaf on the table, he made his way towards the door.
Perhaps I should handle thi--
"I
got it," the cripple said with an irritable rise in his voice, smoothing out the ripples Glaucon made in his head. "We don't need an hour of fancy talk to get the attention of a ********
guard, dude."
He passed by a mirror, and slowed down a split second to make a displeased face at how ridiculous he looked in the fancy garb Cosine's friend had hooked them up with. After another moment he was at the door, peering through the elegantly glass-barred window that adorned it until he caught sight of a guard leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed in what was probably boredom.
Thumping the door with a fist to catch the guard's attention, he called out, "Hey! We got a pass from the Sultan, so let us out."
The guard sighed and rolled his eyes before pointing them at the man behind the door. He already knew about the Sultan's summons, why else would he be standing there waiting for them to wake up so he could drag their lazy behinds over to His Royal Incompetence? Some words he had overheard from the nobles who visited for the caucuses suggested that he might not be royalty any longer... now that would be a blessing from the supposed gods who were waiting for him in that room. It was with little enthusiasm and less finesse that he unlocked the door and waved them out, ready to lead them back to the audience chamber.
Oh, if only he could stay there to watch this discussion unfold... but no, he had to go stand watch over a lifeless hallway lined with empty rooms in case one of the rival families had left an assassin behind in a pillowcase.
He wasn't a chatty sort, only huffing a sigh occasionally until the two gods and their hosts were led back to the dome they were at before. The illumination of the place was much softer than it had been that previous night, giving it a kinder atmosphere - but that Gate was still in plain view, playing soft pastels over the floor.
Malh'reth sympathized with David's sentiments as he followed the other out, knowing what it was like to have someone keep trying to take the reigns from you.
I am not doing that. Glyph intoned, obviously frowning from the mental tone, I take control only when I need to.
"And that's why you ousted me a few minutes ago?" Malh'reth replied absently, not really upset. He'd found he hadn't minded giving over control but the key word there was giving - he rather despised when Glyph took over his body without asking.
When they arrived at the domed room they'd been in before, he paused before the door and gathered his thoughts, oriented himself, and looked to David. He didn't say anything, but his expression was easy enough to read 'now or never'. Whatever had bought them this opportunity was something they weren't going to waste.
The Sultan was waiting for them, resplendant in clothing more befitting a king of his station. Golds, whites, and reds in a variety of heavy, rich fabrics hung over his frame and served to make him look both robust and strong. Hair was nicely arranged and he was fairly posed on that throne, watching the entrance with impassive expression. Should one be close enough, they might notice the interested look to his eye and the occasional drumming of fingers upon his throne as he waited. He'd expected them to arrive sooner....
When they did arrive, however, he simply shifted in place and smiled a welcome as he inclined his head to both. The Caucus had been... difficult at best and he'd spent the last few hours thinking the whole scenario over again. As much as he was loathe to admit it... the ruling houses were right. There were no real drawbacks to this, they'd all already lost a great deal and what was left was the same thread to which the whole city clung. Every single person at that meeting had known that, noble and servant alike. The city was dying, more and more lives being claimed and these people were offering a reprieve that held some weight.
Why not?
"Good morning. I trust you slept well?" He greeted formally, gesturing for them to draw nearer the throne, "I have much to discuss with you."
Glaucon stirred into activity into the back of David's mind once again as they drew near the throne, but it was still the mortal that glowered at him as they took in the new splendor to the Sultan's appearance. He was almost ridiculously overdressed compared to how he had looked the night they had spoken with them, and they could both agree that this was probably a move he made to appear more confident... more
kingly. If he hoped that looking the part of royalty would change the opinion of Judgment or his host, he was terribly wrong.
When the Sultan asked them how they had slept, the cripple bluntly responded with "What do you care?" before he allowed the god to take control again, his smoldering gaze becoming as icy as the color of his eyes.
"I doubt you would summon us back here to discuss the weather, Your Majesty," Glaucon said, allowing the slightest bit of impatience to slip through his voice, hinting that being as warm as he suddenly was wasn't going to earn him any favor.
"Was the Caucus able to help you reach a decision, or do you have more questions for us?"
His eyes narrowed and his posture hardened slightly at the gruff greeting and for a moment, he pondered simply dismissing the rude intruders. "The Caucus was most enlightening." He replied, keeping the fact that more then one house had agreed to support them to himself, "As for decisions, it was most helpful in providing new questions... questions I hope you are willing to answer." Leaning forward, he nodded at a few servants waiting in the wings, and stood, gesturing off to the side as a door was opened, "As for why I would care.... I care because you are my guests, outsiders or no. My hospitality should not be spat upon so easily. Join me in my map room? I wish for this discussion to be less... formal, if you will."
In one fell swoop, he'd cut off the many curious onlookers that were milling around and elevated the two to a status that could be trusted to be 'alone' with the Sultan. Murmurs sprang up at that and he smiled, gesturing again for the pair to follow after him. What they were to speak of, he'd rather not spread prematurely.
Malh'reth's brow arched high on his forehead as he found the Sultan not only waiting for them but resplendent in formal wear. It seemed a 360 from their first meeting and the tone of the room was entirely different... it was more relaxed, more receptive. When Jherrem invited them into a more personal chamber, he wondered at what was going on... though his words had been diplomatic, it was obvious from the rumbling of their audience, he'd taken steps to take the negotiations behind closed doors and away from the nobles.
Interesting. Glyph intoned quietly as he stepped into control and moved to follow the Sultan. "You have pondered our suggestions then? I am curious to see where your thoughts have lead you. Glaucon and I are quite willing to answer any questions you may have and further our discussion."
Any pondering that may have been seen on the Sultan's face was bound to stay just that - simple little thoughts, and nothing that would evolve into actions. Waving the visitors away from the chambers
now would equate to relinquishing his throne, and the plucking of a thread that would cause the entire city to rapidly unravel. It was the sort of thing on many minds, and, Glaucon suspected, one of the reasons they were being invited into a private room instead of continuing in this larger, more public chamber - even the smallest errant word that slipped through his teeth could mean the end of his reign if there were observers around to hear it. The tension in the crowd was overwhelmingly obvious.
"Ah, but we were not exactly 'guests' a while ago, were we? I seem to recall that the word used most often to describe us was 'intruder'," Judgement said rhetorically. His gaze was not cast at the Sultan when he said it, however, and it made it clear that those words were meant for the gossipers around them, not him.
He followed Jherrem without complaint, as there was a clear advantage to speaking with him in a private room. If there were any difficult points in this discussion, it would be two - no...
four people against one, and no nobles in the background to bolster his confidence.
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