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It was a portly - no, he was simply fat, really… dressed in a simple, somber robe.. a priest. Yes.
He briskly walked from the tents that had been erected at the far end of the plain, followed shortly by several banner carriers, and behind them…
But the priest stopped. He was breathing so deep his robe moved with it, but he did not seem out of breath. He was simply preparing… to speak.
When he spoke, it was a thunderous bellowing, a stentorian yet sonorous admonishing. No wonder he had become a priest with a voice like that.
“Unfortunates! Heretics! What a sorry sight you offer. How low has your folly brought you! Helpless, in chains, in a strange land, under the sword of an executioner.”
He sounded more sad than angry.
Oh god. This was it. He was going to tell them why and then –
“How could you believe for even one second that you could succeed? How could you allow yourselves to be seduced by the selfish foolishness of an arrogant and misled youth, who has lost what little temporal power he had, and lies in chains, captive as a feral, as a dangerous animal.”
Behind the priest, his prince was brought out. He was still alive, still very much alive… but chained, and he looked so broken, so shamed… he was made to kneel and was chained to a post as the priest carried on.
“We are the blessed. Among us lives She whose kindness, whose wisdom, comes not from any mortal goodness, but the infinitely greater benevolence of the Gods. Was it envy that drove you to your madness? Or was it – Heaven help you – rebelliousness? Feelings of resentment? Did you seek to raise your fists to the Powers that Be? Did you really think to strike at Them that command the winds and the sea? “
And now the subject of his words was moving into sight. Four giant men, junior priests with legs like tree trunks and shoulders like buttressed towers, carried an enormous throne. It had to be hollow, otherwise they could not possibly have carried the preposterous thing.
On the throne… her.
Ellianna.
She was dressed for battle, her features hidden by coldly gleaming platinum armor.
Was she here to observe their punishment?
He guessed it was fair.
“And now you are here, reaping the bitter, bitter fruit of your folly. Of course you are here, kneeling in chains. That was a foregone conclusion the moment you sought to frown on Her. The Gods would not allow you even the illusion of temporary success. In one night, in mere hours, you are undone. They who sit above us in eternal abode have acted through their chosen instrument, the mighty and most worthy Kalla, but if They had chosen so, an army of beggars and vagabonds could have served to do this. For you have defied the will of Heaven, and so are blown away as dried leaves in a storm.
And now you await punishment. How richly your actions merit the most terrible retribution. How the world calls out for your blood, which you have all but offered up to be poured out on the land. The severity of your blasphemy, to reach out to the Daughter of Heaven, invites the most terrible torments and a most ignominious demise.”
The priest went silent. He seemed overcome with sadness, hanging his head, breathing deeply. They could have been his sons, who had bitterly disappointed him.
Maybe he was even sincere.
Then, he lifted his head, and his features glowered with an almost holy inner light.
“But… but… we do not understand the movements of Heaven. The endless grace of the Gods. Their limitless indulgence and understandings of us, feeble, infinitely fallible mortals. Their eternally venerated and beloved Daughter, who has weighed your fate, shines her mercy upon your undeserving souls. You have forfeited your existence, but She returns it.
Your lives will be spared.”
What?
“In Her boundless wisdom and divine mercy, She has deemed that out of the six thousand, four hundred and seventy of your number, no more than ninety-nine men shall be chosen to follow Her as her holy spoils, a tiny, trifling symbol of your guilt. You are being punished as one punishes a beloved child, with great indulgence and patience.
Ninety-nine of your number will remain as slaves. The rest of you are returned whence you came, and praise her name. Duly praise her name. Praise for the rest of your lives, which you owe wholly to Her.”
The priest was silent, and he seemed exhausted.
A disbelieving silence set in as the prisoners were trying to comprehend what they had just been told.
And Than’s heart beat so hard he thought it would give out…
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He briskly walked from the tents that had been erected at the far end of the plain, followed shortly by several banner carriers, and behind them…
But the priest stopped. He was breathing so deep his robe moved with it, but he did not seem out of breath. He was simply preparing… to speak.
When he spoke, it was a thunderous bellowing, a stentorian yet sonorous admonishing. No wonder he had become a priest with a voice like that.
“Unfortunates! Heretics! What a sorry sight you offer. How low has your folly brought you! Helpless, in chains, in a strange land, under the sword of an executioner.”
He sounded more sad than angry.
Oh god. This was it. He was going to tell them why and then –
“How could you believe for even one second that you could succeed? How could you allow yourselves to be seduced by the selfish foolishness of an arrogant and misled youth, who has lost what little temporal power he had, and lies in chains, captive as a feral, as a dangerous animal.”
Behind the priest, his prince was brought out. He was still alive, still very much alive… but chained, and he looked so broken, so shamed… he was made to kneel and was chained to a post as the priest carried on.
“We are the blessed. Among us lives She whose kindness, whose wisdom, comes not from any mortal goodness, but the infinitely greater benevolence of the Gods. Was it envy that drove you to your madness? Or was it – Heaven help you – rebelliousness? Feelings of resentment? Did you seek to raise your fists to the Powers that Be? Did you really think to strike at Them that command the winds and the sea? “
And now the subject of his words was moving into sight. Four giant men, junior priests with legs like tree trunks and shoulders like buttressed towers, carried an enormous throne. It had to be hollow, otherwise they could not possibly have carried the preposterous thing.
On the throne… her.
Ellianna.
She was dressed for battle, her features hidden by coldly gleaming platinum armor.
Was she here to observe their punishment?
He guessed it was fair.
“And now you are here, reaping the bitter, bitter fruit of your folly. Of course you are here, kneeling in chains. That was a foregone conclusion the moment you sought to frown on Her. The Gods would not allow you even the illusion of temporary success. In one night, in mere hours, you are undone. They who sit above us in eternal abode have acted through their chosen instrument, the mighty and most worthy Kalla, but if They had chosen so, an army of beggars and vagabonds could have served to do this. For you have defied the will of Heaven, and so are blown away as dried leaves in a storm.
And now you await punishment. How richly your actions merit the most terrible retribution. How the world calls out for your blood, which you have all but offered up to be poured out on the land. The severity of your blasphemy, to reach out to the Daughter of Heaven, invites the most terrible torments and a most ignominious demise.”
The priest went silent. He seemed overcome with sadness, hanging his head, breathing deeply. They could have been his sons, who had bitterly disappointed him.
Maybe he was even sincere.
Then, he lifted his head, and his features glowered with an almost holy inner light.
“But… but… we do not understand the movements of Heaven. The endless grace of the Gods. Their limitless indulgence and understandings of us, feeble, infinitely fallible mortals. Their eternally venerated and beloved Daughter, who has weighed your fate, shines her mercy upon your undeserving souls. You have forfeited your existence, but She returns it.
Your lives will be spared.”
What?
“In Her boundless wisdom and divine mercy, She has deemed that out of the six thousand, four hundred and seventy of your number, no more than ninety-nine men shall be chosen to follow Her as her holy spoils, a tiny, trifling symbol of your guilt. You are being punished as one punishes a beloved child, with great indulgence and patience.
Ninety-nine of your number will remain as slaves. The rest of you are returned whence you came, and praise her name. Duly praise her name. Praise for the rest of your lives, which you owe wholly to Her.”
The priest was silent, and he seemed exhausted.
A disbelieving silence set in as the prisoners were trying to comprehend what they had just been told.
And Than’s heart beat so hard he thought it would give out…
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Category All / Bondage
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 824 x 1153px
File Size 259.9 kB
Listed in Folders
'a bit miffed'?
She is the sovereign. That means she is the country. To invade it is raping her. Even in case of a 'normal' invasion, it is naturally expected that the invaders have forfeited their lives. They are enemies, they are attacking you - they endanger the land and the people. The fact that she is not putting all of them to the sword is outrageously merciful. That she is letting most of them go and keeping only a hundred as spoils is divinely merciful.
Plus she isn't saying she is a goddess - the national religion does. The royal family are descended from gods, like the Japanese imperial line. That makes this invasion not only a temporal offense but blasphemy as well.
Does she have the right to do whatever she pleases? Abso-fucking-lutely.
She is the sovereign. That means she is the country. To invade it is raping her. Even in case of a 'normal' invasion, it is naturally expected that the invaders have forfeited their lives. They are enemies, they are attacking you - they endanger the land and the people. The fact that she is not putting all of them to the sword is outrageously merciful. That she is letting most of them go and keeping only a hundred as spoils is divinely merciful.
Plus she isn't saying she is a goddess - the national religion does. The royal family are descended from gods, like the Japanese imperial line. That makes this invasion not only a temporal offense but blasphemy as well.
Does she have the right to do whatever she pleases? Abso-fucking-lutely.
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