Erutin Dimensional Gate

The gate guards were rather bored to tell the truth. That is to say, considering their orders, they were extraordinarily board, and playing some odd game that almost resembled a cross of senet and mancala. Whatever it was, it was clear the two were biding their time, and not actually paying that much attention to any approaching ships, though the two men could easily answer any hails, if any actually came in.

Aadil aboard is ship, looked over to his map. He was unfamiliar with this region, he was unsure where to go. Realizing that the dimensional gate only lead to another world, he turned his ship and headed for high orbit, then deep space. He had other places to go to, this was not his intended destination.

Wing did not typically survey planets that were not fully her own yet. However, the other two in the system had fallen swiftly to her forces, and this one had fighting only in a very small section of it, well away from where she would be at. The Empress had been informed of an interesting man, an off worlder for this planet, that claimed to be a King. The news bore investigating, and the Empress, having assessed the information at hand, had decided to meet this supposed King herself. Dressed in one of the more traditional outfits of her people, the silk clad Empress admired the henna her handmaidens had adored her with, visible in the many cutouts of her dress.

They had done an excellent job. It almost made the hassle of dealing with them worth it. He hair was pulled back from her face, but loose and free beneath one of her many headpieces, a thin golden filigree semi-circle coronet, made to contrast the dark curls she favored when in her more humanoid form. The handmaidens followed behind her, making certain that her train did not drag along the ground of this foreign planet, as the guard surrounded them. The fell back in twos and threes at entrances, until it was only two handmaidens and two guards as she surveyed this supposed King in his containment field cell. Interesting enough, but her former husband, now very deceased, though it had taken far too long to arrange that, had been more her type. She supposed that’s why she married him.

That and his nation had been nearly equal to her own. It had been close enough, that a subtler marriage worked and saved lives, whereas war would have cost both sides far too much. No, it had been better to marry him, gain his trust, and eventually deal with him in a rather permanent manner. The empress looked this one over and then raised a single eyebrow, before speaking to the officer in charge of the containment area. “This one claims to be royalty, you had said. We can see how the mistake may be made, however, we reviewed the intelligence on this planet extensively. This one does not match the description of any member of the royal family here, or of their allies on other worlds. We are not impressed, general.” And she was most certainly not impressed at all. That he would waste her time with someone not truly royalty. “What is it that this one calls himself, general?” She gestured with an open hand to the prisoner, a clear sign that she didn’t believe the general had the intelligence to know of whom she spoke.

The prisoner would no doubt be able to hear the entire conversation of course, but the Empress of a Thousand Worlds certainly didn’t care. He was handsome enough, to be certain, but she doubted his claim to be royalty of any sort. Regardless, they wouldn’t kill him until they knew more. It would be terribly rude after all, and premature. If he was royalty, then he was a key to wherever he came from, and that meant a chance at even more lands and resources. The general didn’t answer quickly enough, stuttering, rather intimidated by the Empress. She sighed and turned to the prisoner. “Prisoner. We wish to know your title and name.” Though the name was hardly important as far as she was concerned.

At least the planet was nice enough. That seemed to truly be the best part of this ridiculous visit. Truly, it was nice to see new territory, but this appeared to be a waste of her time. The general would have to be replaced by someone much more competent.

The audacity, to continue on conversing among themselves in such a trivial manner instead of kneeling as was necessary. They couldn't be placed wholly at fault. Ignorance had run rampant in his absence. The luminary of the Lachance bloodline had simply vanished from existence altogether, plucked from the seat of his empire and swept off beyond the void, beyond the outer limits with naught but an eldritch construct left in his place to maintain the status quo. A poor replacement, lacking any actual grace in the handling of tragedy and execution of destruction. Wanton and unbiased carnage, although extremely satisfying, is the stuff of child's play. No, transcendent revelation, or rather what the Silver King referred to as transcendent revelation, had to invoke a radical revolution of consciousness within countless mortal souls.

Despite the length of time that had come to pass between the moment of his betrayal and the present, there appeared no outward change in the Harbinger of the End Times' stunning visage. A cacophony of obelisk strands descended in troves from the pinnacle of his crown down to rest upon his ectomorphic frame and the unblemished porcelain flesh wound about it. Draped loosely across him and serving as exquisite embellishment to the entity was the robes known only to the Lachance line, adorned with a crest that few in this age may recognize. Such a carnal vision, seemingly chiseled out of marbled celestial, was a marvel to be revered and worshiped throughout all creation. Such as it had been; Such as it shall be once again, and forevermore thereafter.

Lucien had remained uncharacteristically cordial and compliant throughout this ordeal with the invading force, going so far as to not only allow them to continue pervading the air with their tainted breath, but letting them question and detain himself as well, as if he were of the sort to be trifled with or crossed. Were it not for a mild curiosity, and the potential for possible entertainment, this invasion would be taking a dark turn for the absolute worst. No, instead the Corrupt Lord reserved his might and fury for another day, at another time, when the most opportune moment to cleave flesh from bone and rend soul from spirit presented itself truly.

No pity was relinquished upon the masses who at present were being slaughtered, or consolidated to be led to the slaughter. Their suffering was quite delicious; their woe comprised of pure bliss. What benefit was it to him if he intervened when inaction sated in appetite for despair for the moment? As he basked in the mournful ambiance emphasized by the presence of death all around him, Lucien caught hint of an aroma that enticed him- one that among the myriad which polluted this fallen world stood out, a flower unparalleled in refinement surrounded by the abhorrent maggots vying to bask in the shade of it's radiance. The inconceivable traces of vibration emitted by her footsteps might as well have been the vehement convulsions of the hearth to him; the steady rhythmic beating of her heart likened to the crashing of fallen souls into the Tombs of Iblis; the sanguine plasma coursing through her veins like violent torrents and vicious streams ravaging the earth. Lucien remained waiting, eager to devour one so savory in his sights. It was decided upon the arrival of herself and her entourage that this building anticipation within himself was not wasted. The rest had ceased to exist for but a moment as the Silver King consumed the sound of her voice and allowed it to resonate within the depths of his mind for but a moment. Though it were quite lovely, He ached for her pleasured moans and anguished screams.

“Prisoner. We wish to know your title and name.” And then his eyes shot open instantly, the only visible form of movement he had shown since his capture. They held the slight tilt akin to orientals or exotics and appeared two bottomless slits of void resting atop beds of silver. They centered in on the Empress, set definitely upon hers, his all pervading gaze threatening to delve into the pits of her being.

"Fair Maiden..." a tapestry of silk and velvet escaped moistened parted lips moments after a lithe tongue swept across them, "...You must excuse me if I appear unsightly before a Goddess of sublime splendor. I was not aware I would be blessed with the presence of one of such brilliance. I am Lucien Lachance, the Mourning Son, Herald of Elysium's Asylum, and Ruler of the Hyperborean Empire." An extravagant and ceremonious bow was offered with the divulging of his handle and namesake, with the very ends of his hair tickling the tops of his bare feet.

"And by which empyrean appellation do mere mortals invoke the presence of one such as yourself?" Lifting his head and returning his nominal frame to noble posture, Lucien would offer an elated smile behind his inquiry, seemingly pleased with his new acquaintance.

Wing ran a search on her neural implant for Hyperborean Empire, cross-referenced with the royal family. This silvered eyed man was telling the truth, it seemed, though it made little sense for him to be so far from his home. It hardly mattered though, as the Empress well knew the troubles of life that could lead a ruler far from her home. It had happened to her once upon a time after all, civil war having exiled her to a safer land outside her empire’s borders. The empress examined him silently then spoke.

“We are the untouchable Matriarch of the Erutin Empire, Empress of a Thousand Worlds, goddess of the Scatterran people.” Though she was no goddess in truth, she certainly was undying enough to ensure she appeared as one. Certain technologies saw to her immortal life, regardless of what may happen to her form. It would be disappointing should she lose her natural form of course. The Empress took great pride in the size of her true form. However, it would not be the end of her being. “Our people do not refer to Us by name.” It was considered ridiculously holy after all. That wasn’t to say that she had no name of course, merely that she did not go by her name in public. And while her attendants didn’t count as public, the general and his people did. Wing turned her attention to the general briefly and her eyes narrowed. Incompetent. How had he managed to get so far? He and those below him involved in this would be disciplined. It was merely a pity that it took so many to run an empire. Fools occasionally slipped through the cracks and into positions they should not hold.

“Leave Us, general. Our guards are sufficient for a king in a containment field, and your presence sullies the air.” He’d likely end up in one of her hunting grounds, for her pleasure. Those who disappointed her often did, entire villages having sprung up on one of her hunting worlds, as people awaited her pleasure. Wing preferred to hunt sentient creatures, after all. They made for a much more satisfying hunt, full of trickery, and occasionally her even being attacked by the prey as if they stood a chance. The general bowed low and backed out of the room quickly, his people leaving with him, just as rapidly. They knew well what happened when the Empress was disappointed.

The plebeians gone, that left her two guards and two handmaidens, who by tradition, law, and purification rites didn’t actually count as people. Wing turned her attention back to Lucien, taking him in. The robes were a little unusual, but her own clothing did show nearly as much skin, so she supposed she had little room to speak. The implant noted that they appeared to be the normal garb of this being. Little things like that were she had the damned thing. “Lucien Lachance. I do not stand on formality with other rulers of empires, whether the call themselves emperor, or king.” Largely because most ended up very dead before she could bother. Wing used the traditional viewpoint many cultures had of women to her utmost advantage.

“You may refer to me as Wing.” It was still more formal that what her family tended to call her, but she wasn’t about to tell this being to call her Winnie. That was a private family name, and not for the likes of this stranger, ruler or not. At least he was handsome to gaze upon, and venerated her appropriately. The empress kept the containment field between them, of course, but kept her full attention on him, russet eyes meeting silver head on, something that rarely occurred for the empress. After all, even her gaze was divine and above that of mere mortals. “You are far from your people Lucien. May I know why you are in my territory?” It was an unusual turn of events after all. Other rulers knew not to come unless she invited them, even to the lands that she had her eyes set upon as to be hers, like this one. The Empress considered such unscheduled visits as cause for war upon other nations. After all, all knew that the empress did not deal with anyone of less a title than her. It simply wasn’t done and would never be done. She did not allow such foolishness to approach her and never would. She had a particular distaste for democratically elected leaders. As if one not born to rule would know the first thing about being a good ruler.

She had yet to see the proof of such a thing. Even her dear former husband, not born to rule, but fashioned, had fallen for a ploy as old as time itself, because he could not see the truth in Wing’s demeanor. She had wanted his people, and had gotten them, via very little bloodshed, as she preferred.