Epilogue

  Join us in eternity, where the flames of life no longer burn at your heels. Join us in death, where the war is finally over and we are as one in peace.

  -The Book of the Father, first page

  Exaltation hovered in a dark room, alone. An array of reflective mirrors stood before it, each showing different worlds, different faces, different pupils. The mirror in front of them suddenly cracked before shattering entirely. The sacrament did not flinch or show any signs of anger or disappointment at the shattering. It remained unnaturally still, single eye staring down at the remains.

  Another falls,

  it stated to no one in particular. With a single gesture of its hand, the floor beneath it opened and all the glass shards slid away before the hole closed back up. It looked to the other mirrors, seeing no one on the other side paying much attention to it. One hand lifted, and from the floor molded a new copy of itself to stand before the mirror while the being turned and floated out of the room it was in. The pupils would not notice the difference if this lesser puppet spoke to them or its main form. Two large, ornate double doors carved from bone opened into a hallway. It was open, with the wall facing towards the outside completely gone save for rows of pillars. From here Exaltation could see a vast city before them of twisting, macabre structures of bone and dead matter surrounding a mountain-sized archway with teal liquid trapped inside. It was only lit by the light of street lamps, unnatural fires, and the twinkling pinpricks of teal light like a sea of stars that came from the citizens down below.

  It switched to soulsight to see the souls cast before it, seeing the light of the city shine brightly suddenly with clumps of souls bound together going about their business. Exaltation found what it was looking for and floated out the hallway and down into the sunless city. As it passed overhead, the creatures below averted their gaze, not wishing to garner its attention. Exaltation paid them no mind, should they anger the Father, they would see another sacrament, not them. Never them.

  They floated to one of the nearby spires, towering far into the atmosphere. It was only slightly smaller than the sacrament’s own tower. No one would dare try to think themselves greater than pieces of The Architect himself. As they approached the tower, the wall melted away like wet clay as Exaltation moved through the new hole in the wall before closing it behind him. It was eerily still as it moved through the air, arms behind it poised like an angel’s wings as it descended from on high.

  Inside was a throne room, massive pillars holding up the large chamber with a velvet red rug lining the center up the throne on the opposite side, perched upon a small set of stairs. The throne was made of polished ivory with countless, small carvings etched throughout the outside of its surface. At the throne’s head was a single depiction of an eye, painted teal, situated so it stared down at all in attendance, a show that the sacraments were always watching. In the throne was a creature of bone, their body kept mostly humanoid in shape, like a mannequin, save for the six arms that sprouted from its shoulders. It was dressed in white silks embroidered with golden patterns across its entire surface. Mortals would consider it a masterpiece. Its face was the typical human skull, save for two larger sets of fangs and ridges carved into its brow. Two pinpricks of teal looked at the sacrament as it entered, calm, collected.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Arch Mortis,

  Exaltation boomed, their collective voices making the entire room quake from the weight of it.

  The time has come.

  The Arch Mortis stood up, all six hands clasping together as they bowed deeply to Exaltation. “What does the Architect wish of us?” the Arch Mortis asked, their voice coming out as a choir of dozens speaking in perfect chorus. This Arch Mortis was more humble than some of the other ones Exaltation had known. Admiration had picked well.

  The living will make war with us soon.

  Exaltation answered.

  You will gather a war party should this be the case, from the orders of death knights at your disposal.

  The Arch Mortis tilted their head to the side curiously. “At once, Exaltation. They would be fools to try and attack us though, would they not? And they have not tried to make any incursions since the most recent ascension of Life.” They raise their hands, “we do not question your decision, only seek clarification.” The last thing they wanted was to make a sacrament upset.

  We will not be caught idle, Arch Mortis. Praise be to the Father’s wisdom that his flock has not been harried in many years. This is not all that we ask of you. We ask that another ten books be prepared and sent across the galaxy.

  “Of course, Exaltation.” The Arch Mortis bowed again. “They have already been transcribed and infused before you came here. It was coming close to around the decade you would make that request so we wished to be prepared.”

  Your diligence is praised by the Father, Arch Mortis. There is one more thing we require of you. You will find The Voices that Charmed The Stars’ deeds have been noticed by The Father. We have a new task for them, one that suits their talents.

  “It shall be done, Exaltation. What do you require of them?”

  There is an opening within the Ghayr Muqayad region of space for the Father’s will to be extended. They reject the teachings of Life but have not accepted the Father as their substitute. The Voices that Charmed the Stars will be our vanguard to lay the groundwork for further talks.

  “You wish for diplomacy?” the Arch Mortis asked, once more sounding confused. “We have always expanded secretly, through the books on isolated worlds. It has worked for eons.”

  This is the Father’s will. We do not ask why he wills it, we simply do as he commands, for his wisdom will grant us salvation, always, Exaltation answered, the two free hands it had raising as if addressing a congregation. Such will bring glory upon us all. As it always has.

  It lowered its hands again.

  As it always will.

  The End

  For now...