In the brief four hundred twenty-six years that Edan Tol had lived on the royal grounds, he had never seen so many Jhatgar crowding the elegant halls of the palace. The floor of the meeting hall was hidden beneath the thousands of guests, servants, and guards. It was a certain kind of organized chaos. Edan Tol was not fond of such gatherings.

The ocean of bodies before him had come together for the Veneration ceremony, and of course, the crowning of a new emperor. Those in attendance wore their finest garments or uniforms befitting their station. Lords, officials, and other influential guests gathered for the ceremony. Only Jhatgar were allowed to witness the Veneration, as was tradition.

Though there were already many who had arrived, there would be many more yet. Edan Tol had been informed that the event would be a several days long affair. He did not have many duties during this time, as the entire realm was to be focused upon the function. The sound of it all was the worst part. Echoes of chatter and mingling filled the air. Though it was a solemn reason to come together, it was still a meeting of old friends and foes.

While Edan Tol much preferred the quiet of his study, he had to put up with it. So he did what most sensible Jhatgar would. Drink. He searched his surroundings, and after a moment, he had spotted the signature golden thread of the palace servants. He maneuvered his way through the endless thicket of wealthy Jhatgar, only exchanging brief greetings with those in his way. He waved to the servant, who immediately approached, tray in hand.

“Take what you wish, my Lord,” said the jovial servant. Edan Tol picked up the nearest goblet, dismissing the servant with a nod. A pensive sip of the liquid within revealed that it was a finely aged rum. Edan Tol had no particular love for the slightly sweet beverage, but he decided it would do the job. With goblet in hand, he turned back to the crowd.

“Why if it isn’t the little Edan Tol,” chuckled a deep, nostalgic voice next to him, “I remember when you were but a lad, and now you stand damn near shoulder to shoulder with me.” Edan Tol turned toward the man. It was a jhatgar was clad in the dark blue and gold uniform, much like Edan Tol’s. He was a little bit taller than him, with signs of age that showed themselves on his face. The older jhatgar once had a brown head of hair, that had turned silver over the years. His pointed beard was the same as it was back then, just longer and somehow pointier. His green eyes still seemed to exude a youthful energy, however.

“How many years since you were last here, Datren Konith?” Edan Tol asked as a smile crept onto his face. “Far too many. The campaign in the deepland is a never ending affair, seemingly,” He scratched his pointy beard with an exasperated sigh. “Nevermind that, how is Veitra Ith? I haven’t seen the lass since she aquired her post,” Edan Tol thought back to his sister grieving over the old man’s body.

“My sister has busied herself to distract from the… The loss,” He answered. The older jhatgar nodded solemnly. “I know you two will get through it. When I lost my wife, a part of me went with her,” He said, patting Edan Tol on the shoulder. “It changes everything when we lose someone dear to us, but we find a way forward. We press on. For me, it was those left to me. My own children, as well as you two here at the palace. Veridan Laniss was also there for me. He was a brother to me,” Datren Konith put on a small, reassuring grin.

The words weighed in the air and Edan Tol drank some more of the rum. “I didn’t expect you to get philosophical,” He joked. The older jhatgar snorted, taking a drink from his own goblet. “I’m no master of words, nor a sage. I’m just an old man,” He smirked. “Right, an old man who has faced a deep one and triumphed. Do not sell yourself short, Datren Konith,” Edan Tol retorted.

The older jhatgar had always been one for sharing his opinions and stories. This was no exception, as he launched into a story about his latest incursion into the deepland. The fauna and wildlife there was already odd enough to the surface dwellers, but there was something lurking in the darkness of it. The third regiment under his command had established a foothold in the territory and even made progress in sealing the deep ones away.

*

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Edan Tol spoke to many more jhatgar of various ages and occupations. Everyone from treasurers to engineers were eager to mingle with the marshal. Needless to say, that included military figures. He supposed this was about rubbing shoulders, since everyone in attendance had wealth and power. All with relative degrees of it, but power was important among the elite class.

Of course, Datren Konith had left him to fend for himself amidst the rapidly growing crowd of nobles. The old man had all but disappeared into thin air. It seemed the night was going to be a long one. After several more drinks, interrupted by tedious politicking, it was the appointed time.

Horns blared throughout the palace walls, and a quiet began to settle over the mass of finely dressed bodies. Everyone knew what came next. From the golden balcony that loomed over the gathering came another series of blasts from the horns, then the council stepped out into view. The silk robes they wore were a resplendent white, with blood-red accents. Their heads adorned with crowns of Jhatgar bones, as it had always been done. There were nine of them in total.

The oldest member of the council stepped forth, “Sons and daughters of Jhatgar, it is time to commence The Veneration!” His raspy cheer carried across the room. “Everyone proceed into the ritual chamber, so that we may begin,” His eyes made contact with Edan Tol’s, and it felt as if the elder’s were peering into his very soul. The elder gave a small nod and turned back to join the others of the council. It was said that Elders could see more with their eyes than most. If that were true, then what did he see?

*

The grand underground ritual chamber was as expansive as the rest of the palace, but somehow more decadent. The floors, walls, and ceiling, were covered in beautifully carved murals. The various scenes depicted the many triumphs of the empire. Edan Tol had been in the chamber before, though not for the same occasion. It was still such an impressive sight, even after all these years.

The raised seating stretched around the base of the chamber walls, ensuring more than enough room for the Jhatgar in attendance. The center of the gargantuan structure sat lower than the rest of the room, which was where a towering cylindrical tank. Glass walls allowed clear view of the contents within it. A vibrant green liquid illuminated the room as the lighting dimmed. Hundreds of spheres danced among the green water like substance. Their bright lights pulsated, not unlike the beating of a heart.

The glow of the tank was the only source of light now, and it was bathed all in its radiant glory. A voice cut through the respectful silence, “My fellow Jhatgar! Tonight we are here to venerate another great soul. Tonight we witness the birth of a new ancestor god!” The Elder’s raspy voice shook with passion. The council brought forth a lamp, carried by four of them.

Edan Tol and the rest of the audience watched as they climbed the steps onto the tank. Atop it, a shrine was built into it. That was where they placed the lamp. Two of the council opened it. A light, brighter than those beneath it, flared with an intensity to rival the stars. Edan Tol had to bring a hand up to shield his eyes.

The light faded for a moment as it was pulled from the lamp by an unseen force. It split and entered the shrine via two metal posts at either side. The light traveled down into the tank below. The lights pulsated quicker, becoming more intense as the new light joined with the old. The entire tank of green became almost white. Most of those in attendance could not look directly at it for long.

Then drums sounded, and a blue light spread out from underneath the tank. The light climbed across the walls and up to the ceiling. All of the murals were illuminated and shone like glorious rays of sunlight. Magical was the only word Edan Tol could think of for it. He then felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him jump. He turned around, and before him stood the man who raised him.

He was younger, his hair still a brilliant gold, and his sharp eyes were full of life. “You will do me proud, Edan Tol. For you are my son, even if not by blood. So do not let worry cloud your heart,” He smiled. Edan Tol felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes and his words choke up. “Look at you, the mightiest man in the empire, and you’re crying like a babe!” The once old emperor laughed.

“Your eyes are watery too, old man!” Edan Tol scoffed. “Yes, well, it is bright out today. Makes my eyes a bit watery,” The old man patted him on the shoulder once more. “I have to be going now, but I will be watching, always. I love you, son,” He said as he began to fade away. “I love you too, old man,” Edan Tol choked out. He wiped the waterworks away and watched as his predecessor vanished.

He shook his head and looked around at the crowd bathed in light. Emotion had swept over them all. Some were weeping and sobbing. Some were more contained, but everyone had been shaken by grief or joy. This is The Veneration, Edan Tol thought to himself. The Elder on the tank spoke again after several thoughtful moments, “Emperor, Veridan Laniss, has now joined those who watch over us all. Blessed are those in attendance tonight. The Ancestor Gods have shared with you all their wisdom. Heed them and prosper!” He spoke zealously. The Elder launched into a lengthy sermon to conclude the ceremony and the evening. Edan Tol’s mind lingered on what had just happened, unable to focus on anything else.