The Divine Speaker

“All rise in the presence of our new Divine Speaker!” Holy Chamberlain Lewyr called into the grand assembly chamber. He was a portly man, with stringy red hair and a face that always seemed to be flushed, just one of several dozen names I had been learning ever since I was appointed the new Divine Speaker of the Order of the Golden Sun. A lot had happened since Divine Speaker Galemar had been taken by the thing, most of which was rather tedious and boring in comparison.
The holy conclave gathered once more and the circumstances of the last Divine Speaker’s death were discussed. A brief argument was held as to whether or not deem the Divine Speaker alive until a body was found, though that notion was quickly shot down. The high priests then assembled and made their nominations. Father Alton merely sighed when he saw that I had been connected to yet another death of a Divine Speaker, and nominated me in front of the conclave. Much to my horror, the vote passed with twenty-seven in favor and eight against.

“You tore down our Order, built it back up, and have threatened to tear it down again,” Father Alton had said to me afterwards, “It’s become clear that we will know no peace unless you assume command.”

“I never wanted this.” I protested.

The old man simply shook his head. “When are you going to learn that life isn’t always about what you want? We all have responsibilities thrust upon us by life, responsibilities that we cannot refuse. They aren’t always fair, hell, they rarely are, but it is the responsibility of those with power to protect those without. You have been granted power by some cosmic chance, and as much as you might be frustrated by that fact, it is not your place to deny your duty to your fellow man.”

“Shouldn’t I be allowed to choose?” I demanded.

“Nobody else is given a choice.” Father Alton said, “A person doesn’t choose if he is born as a peasant or a king, he doesn’t choose if he’s born healthy or crippled, if he is born as a man or as an elf. He lives the part he is assigned in this world, and rare are the men who can say otherwise. What makes you any different? What makes you so special that you may deny your fate?”

“Fate? Who the hell believes in fate?” I asked.

“Your congregation.” He replied. He handed me a thick, worn tome with a wooden cover. “Start reading. You don’t have to believe it, but your followers will expect you to know it by heart.”

“So you expect me to lead your Order until I die?”

“I expect you to fulfill your responsibility to the people of this realm.” Father Alton said, “There will come a day when you hold the fate of this world in your hands, and when it does I want you to remember its people. I want you to recall their names and their faces, what they said and what they believed. I want you to weigh their lives with the weight they deserve when you make that final call.”

“Father,” I asked, “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Nothing more than a rumor.” He said, “But the heavens save us if I’m right.”

I had not seen the old priest since. He’d gone back to Daletopia following the conclave. Rumors still indicated tension between priests of the Order and the disciples of the Church of the Great Father. If word was to be believed, red-cloaked figures had appeared in Alvensglen, seized three priests of the Order, and hung them in the town square. Some called it retribution, others called it murder.

I, as Divine Speaker, was called to announce the Order’s official position on the matter. Considering that all information available was merely rumors, I decided that our stance would align with whatever authorities appointed by the crown deemed to have transpired. This ruling drew the ire of some within the order, particularly that of High Priest Nuladin, who some said should have been Divine Speaker in my place. I counted myself among them, but the conclave had ruled me Divine Speaker, and apparently their decision superseded my will.

As the weeks passed, the rumors grew more frequent. Attacks against personnel and property of the order became more frequent, perpetrated by unknown attackers. Mostly unknown. Some of the assailants had been captured, and indeed proved to be followers of the Great Father. When confronted, their church had shunned them and dismissed them as nothing more than fringe elements that had been excommunicated by the rest. Nobody believed them, but for the sake of preventing all out war I accepted these explanations, all the while shoring up defenses around our temples and high priests.

Nuladin had raged at that and threatened to launch a coup to oust me. I told him that I would welcome that, which I would, but he only took it as an insult. He and his supporters left the Holy Mountain shortly thereafter. I had requested that his priests rejoin us, explained that we were stronger together than we were apart. He had responded by sending an assassin.

The black-robed figure had come for me the night prior. He’d slipped past the outer guards and gained entry to my chambers by way of a secret door hidden in my wall. The assassin had the drop on me, his blade was pressed to my throat before I even knew what was happening. He’d leaned down into my ear and whispered, “Nuladin wants you to know it was him.”

That had been his fatal mistake. Atlas leapt up from beside the bed, catching the assassin in his blade arm and tackling him to the floor. Lynessa had woken, surprised but not frightened, and called for the guards.

That same assassin sat before the council now, his arm wrapped in bandages. He repeated what he’d said to me in the night for all of the collected high priests. Nuladin stood in the crowd, face firm and rigid, unblinking and unmoving.

“I did what was right.” He said, when asked to testify.

“So you admit your guilt?” Lewyr asked, astonished.

“There is no point in deception. Had the attempt succeeded I would say the same. This man has no place as our Divine Speaker. He does not believe in our faith, he was not born in our world. He stands for nothing and fights for no one but himself.” The crowd roared in disapproval. A pair of priests stepped forward to silence him.

I waved my hand. “Let him speak.”

“But, Divine Speaker,” Lewyr stammered, “He speaks heresy.”

“He speaks truth.” I said, “And under my roof that shall be no crime.”

Nuladin met my eyes. He gave me a small nod in recognition.

“You will destroy our religion.” He said, “I had no other choice.”

“I cannot blame you.” I replied, “But now I must sentence you. You have violated the king’s laws and must be punished in accordance with them.”

“I will accept this judgement.” He said.

“You have no choice.” I responded. In the end, both Nuladin and the assassin met the end of a noose. I saw that their bodies were returned to their home temples and performed their burial rites myself. I prayed to the Golden Sun for their places in heaven, pardoned their conspirators, and apologized to their families.

That night, I did not sleep.