Stories of H Merrill

On the very day that the First Potentate of Orthtir was to be crowned in Alashar, the nations of Orthtir and the planets and many moons of the Sorenus System were in the throes of a great war. It was a moment of grandiose fanfare, an event of elegance attended by only those of high authority and status. That day, cold with the blizzarding winds, marked a new age, not only for Orthtir, but for all those who lived under the gaze of Sorenus. 

Those not of the affluent and noble watched from afar, acknowledging that this moment would shift the course of that great war, either in their favour, or against it. 

It was during this coronation that one could see the meticulous parade of the Red Deacons flanking the crown of a bygone era, stolen from the vaults of Ashwood, held now, upon gold velvet carried by His Grace, Erimal of Larcia, First Sovereign-Priest of the Maudelin. The slow, practised steps of the procession did not falter in the cold, marching ever onward through their newly conquered city. 

Scars of conquest were mostly obscured for those watching on vidscreens, but those within the city walls knew them all too well. This was no day of celebration, no occasion to fly high the flag of Zalshar. For it was not under their flag that the Potentate did first arrive on their shores, but under the banner of the united Narselus, a banner itself that would soon change under the new rule. 

At the time of his first steps onto those shores, Maxian the Ubiquitous, although he was not yet known by that name, was but a general commanding one of the many legions of the Narselian warmachine. But he had, from a young age, been trained for this affair. The ever vigilant Cult of Maudelin had tracked his progress, and around him did they write their prophecies and teachings. Not by name, but by action was he called by those within the Cult to be elevated to where he stood now. 

The Sovereign-Priest parted from his Red Deacons, stepping with precision up the marble steps that rose to the Cathedral of Hano-no-Seir. In that place, consecrated only by the blood of the fallen Zalsharian guard, whose stains were still visible, was Maxian crowned as the First Potentate of Orthtir, a title befitting the man who claimed he would conquer not only Orthtir, but the whole of the Sorenus System. And as the tarnished crown rested upon his head, a new flag unfurled, not one of Narselus nor Zalshar, but one of the man who now claimed them: the Bright Banner, under which the planets and moons would shudder.

But it was not in this year, nor the many that followed would his claim come to fruition. Certainly, he would stand triumphant over Orthtir and establish his new order, in name, the Harmony of Orthtir, although it brought no harmony to those it devastated. But the planets were not yet within his reach. For despite the Narselian conquest of Orthtir in the Celestial War, Maxian knew that no kingdom, not even his, could stand against the united might of the planets. And so, he drew contracts with them, treaties of peace and mutual prosperity, but, behind his back, he held the ever scheming blade of the Maudelin. 

For a thousand years, he stayed his course, only disrupted by occasional territorial disputes with the other three nations of the Sorenus System—and the curse of his own fragile mortality. His life hung by the will of the Cult, who prolonged it with their blood magics and who built him a great palace that would sustain it. And after those thousand years, Maxian the Ubiquitous, shriveled by age, was finally ready for his great crusade.