The cold metal of the ancient gate hummed beneath Nazareth's touch as he reached out, his hand trembling ever so slightly. With a resonant clank that echoed through the silence, the massive gates creaked open, revealing a sight that never failed to steal his breath away.
To this day, the grandeur of the enormous space never failed to amaze him – it was like stepping into a world beyond mortal imagination. Vaulted ceilings of iridescent, gem-encrusted tiles soared high above him, reflecting light in prismatic bursts that danced like fairies about the chamber.
The air was thick with mana, a living power that pulsed and thrummed with every breath Nazareth took. It filled his lungs and sent shivers down his spine, making the hairs on his arms stand at attention and revitalizing him. Intricate patterns of runes and sigils adorned the gleaming marble floor underfoot, swirling about in formations that spoke of ancient rituals and long-forgotten enchantments.
Grandiose columns lined the walls on both sides of the throne room, intricately carved from otherworldly stone that seemed to shimmer in colors not found in nature. Upon each column rested a torch with azure flames that burned without smoke or heat yet cast an ethereal glow that illuminated every crevice and shadow. In between each column hung massive tapestries depicting mythical creatures and legendary battles; their lifelike threads appeared to shift and swirl before Nazareth’s eyes.
In the heart of the chamber, a cacophony of voices filled the air. The King's advisors, a council of the wisest and most powerful minds in the realm, huddled around a vast oak table laden with scrolls and maps. Their voices rose and fell in a symphony of strategy and counsel, each word laced with the weight of consequence. These were the architects of the kingdom's fate, their wisdom forging the path forward amidst the tumult of court intrigue and looming conflict.
Across the chamber, a different kind of hush descended. Here, the dignitaries of foreign realms stood in tightly knit clusters, their faces a mask of diplomatic decorum. Generals in gleaming armor stood rigid as stone statues, their gaze fixed on the proceedings, assessing allies and potential foes with a practiced eye.
Amidst this sea of nobility and duty, servants dashed deftly carrying trays laden with goblets filled to the brim with wines that glimmered ruby and gold. They wove through the crowd like specters, seen only when needed but ever present to ensure that no guest lacked sustenance or comfort.
Finally, at the chamber’s far end stood the focal point: a sprawling throne made from intertwining vines of enchanted crystal and twisting coils of bone. Its design seemed to defy logic as if grown from magic rather than crafted by mortal hands. Yet, it stood empty. But even as Nazareth's gaze roamed across the opulent space, he knew that the true focus of this gathering would soon take its seat.
Suddenly, a hollow chime filled the room, causing the chamber's attention to turn toward the throne. The sound of ironclad boots could be heard hitting the marble flooring, and entering from one of the hallways, the King emerged.
King Theron was a colossus of a man, his imposing figure dominating the room. His stormy eyes, a churning grey, burned with an ancient wisdom and a piercing intelligence that left no doubt of his authority. They raked over Nazareth, missing nothing, as if weighing his worth in an instant. His silver hair, a cascade down to his shoulders, framed a face that defied the passage of time itself, an ageless visage carved from stone. His black robe, rich with gold thread and velvet, hung from his massive shoulders like a shroud of power. Rings of rare metals adorned his fingers, each a testament to his conquests and alliances over millennia.
As the King ascended the steps, the murmur of the advisors fell to a hush. Even the dignitaries, usually so composed, leaned forward in rapt attention. The very air seemed to still, waiting for the words that would set the course of this hearing.
And then Theron spoke.
“Leave us.” They were two simple words, but they carried more power and intent than anything he ever felt. They radiated throughout the hall, and the sound of people shuffling through the hall immediately echoed throughout the court.
Within moments, the grand chamber emptied, leaving Nazareth alone with the King. The echoes of their retreating footsteps seemed to carry the weight of the entire room – a space bustling with conversation mere moments before – giving way to an eerie silence. Nazareth exhaled slowly, mentally going over his plan one last time.
“So you deign to stand before me at last, Nazareth. Your audacity knows no bounds, to venture forth from the sanctum of our world without leave. More so when word reached me that you consorted with a human on a planet that was freshly initiated. Unveil the fabric of your actions to me, make me fathom your recklessness.”
“Your Majesty,” Nazareth started, not an ounce of playfulness in his voice, “I sincerely apologize for my lack of communication. I have a justified explanation and have prepared an extensive report if Your Majesty would grant me the privilege of presenting it.”
King Theron nodded, his penetrating gaze examining every nuance of Nazareth’s expression. “Present your case.”
“I thank His Majesty for the honor.” Nazareth exhaled, straightening himself. “As you are undoubtedly aware, I recently embarked on an off-world trip. In the days leading up to my departure, I devoted myself to researching the newly initiated planet called Earth from within the observatory.”
“Naturally. The dreaded world that is said to bring forth another accursed Chosen into the multiverse. The heavens truly want to test us.” The King spoke, his eyes narrowing.
“Yes, precisely that one. Since uncovering this information, I have diligently attended to my responsibilities, postponing everything to monitor the planet closely. My aim was to ensure that our empire would be optimally prepared when access to dominions is granted, so that we may swiftly locate and acquire this Chosen before rival empires succeed.” Nazareth said, fidgeting with his fingers slightly as he continued his report.
“Upon my intensive scout, I came across something very peculiar… a human that was never sent to the tutorial, yet still stood and walked the planet alive as can be. As His Majesty is well aware, when a planet becomes initiated into the multiverse, every single native is executed by the system or sent to the tutorial. So, for me to spot a human walking around… Well, as far as I am aware, that’s never been seen before. That alone piqued my curiosity, but as I continued to observe him, that curiosity soon rose to high interest as his accomplishments grew.”
“Do you believe he is the Chosen?” King Theron spoke, cutting him off. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed as he swirled a goblet of crystal-clear liquid in his hand.
Nazareth’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpectedness of the question, but he remained calm and collected on the outside. “I sincerely apologize, Your Majesty, but perhaps it would be more beneficial if I first presented all of my findings for His Majesty's complete understanding. May I proceed?”
King Theron raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing his attempt at deflection. “Curious.” He said slowly, causing Nazareth to flinch internally. “Continue.”
Nazareth swallowed hard but didn’t allow himself to falter. He pressed on, “Thank you - Your Majesty,” he expressed, “As I was saying before, his accomplishments only grew. He defeated a powerful beast fresh out of initiation. He created a skill on his own - no matter how brutish and rudimentary, and has shown the ability to harness multiple skills without any knowledge or guidance; proving he has an exceptionally high efficiency in some areas.”
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“Trivial achievements,” Theron replied, his eyes narrowing. “For the newly initiated, however, it suffices. But tell me, what delayed your tongue? An oversight such as this should have crawled to my ears the moment it reared its head. Speak.”
“Indeed, Your Majesty.” Nazareth sighed, turning his head away as he looked at the wall, “I had full intention to report my findings to the empire, but alas, something came up, time becoming of essence. This human - Richter, is his name, entered a dungeon. I discovered an opportunity to speak to the human because of this, and I took it. I felt I would have done the empire a disservice if I hadn’t taken it.”
Not giving the King a chance to speak, Nazareth continued, “During my observation of him, I discovered that he was a vast spring of raw talent. I believe he is a young prodigy, but as he was never sent to the tutorial, he had no guidance. Thinking I was doing you a favor, Your Majesty, I gave him information and insights on the multiverse and the system, including how to survive and what he should be working on. An individual with such raw talent is a rare seed nowadays. I believed that perhaps he could be recruited into the empire for His Majesty if you so desire it.”
Theron’s gaze narrowed, an unreadable storm in his eyes. “Do not take me for a fool,” he warned with a piercing gaze, “I sense more to this than your cunning words lead me to believe. I want sincerity, not rehearsed answers. Tell me what you really think.”
“I apologize, Your Majesty,” Nazareth’s expression remained steadfast, “But I truly believed I was acting in the best interests of the throne. My intentions were never dishonorable. I believe he is a rare seed of talent, and I thought it would be beneficial if I made good connections with the human before dominions open - for the greatness of the empire and His Majesty,”
King Theron leaned forward on his throne, penetrating eyes focused intently on Nazareth. “Nazareth,” he began slowly, voice low but coldly controlled, “Your path to power has been dotted with ambition and cunning. You must have forgotten that the council and I watched your entire conversation with this human. And yet you stand before me here today, deflecting my question repeatedly, thinking I’m none the wiser. My patience grows thin. This is no small matter; you will tell me what I want to know. Do not make me ask again.” The King’s aura slowly leaked out, dropping the room’s atmosphere to palpable levels.
Shit. It’s all or nothing. Nazareth turned back toward the King with genuine sadness in his eyes. “I deeply apologize, Your Majesty. I know what you want to hear, and I hope to bring the honor of finding the chosen to His Majesty. But to my utter shame, I cannot give you the answer you seek. Based on all the information I gathered from my observations, including my first-hand experience, I conclude that I do not believe this human is the chosen. They must still be in the tutorial, away from prying eyes.” Nazareth braced inwardly, but he held the King’s gaze steadfastly.
The subtle shift in King Theron’s expression was almost imperceptible, but Nazareth noticed it immediately - his jaw tensed, and a glint of suspicion flickered in his eyes. “What leads you to this conclusion?” he inquired coldly. “I sense there’s more to it than what you’ve shared. My council and I have scrutinized the evidence at hand and our conclusions stand stark against yours. Present to me your proof, if such exists.”
“I thought the same as you, Your Highness,” Nazareth said, quickly trying to regain control of the conversation. “But I operate under no delusion of your power or keenness of mind. I bring these findings before you because I am confident in my assessment. Of course, I garner no proof, but that simply is not feasible to ask for. My deepest apologies if I transcend my bounds, Your Majesty, but we are talking about a Chosen. A term nearly forgotten through the eons of history of the multiverse. One cannot simply garner proof on such a topic. My conclusion comes from the data I gathered from the observatory and what I gathered from first-hand experience meeting the human.”
“Legends suggest that a Chosen possesses a unique aura that sets them apart from others, but I detected nothing out of the ordinary in Richter’s aura during my investigation. It was a powerful aura for his level, but not that of a Chosen’s undeniable energy signature. Based on everything I have learned, I’ve concluded that he is a spring of raw talent, a young prodigy, and someone worth keeping an eye on. Certainly a unique anomaly, but other than that, he is merely a fortunate or unfortunate soul, depending on how you see it.”
Theron gazed at him, disdain in his eyes while stroking his silver beard in contemplation. "Indeed, these points you've raised bear a weight of consideration," he mused, primarily to himself. "The term 'Chosen' echoes with a history written in blood—its true meaning lost to the ages, obscured by the shadows cast by its harrowing legacy. Information has become scarce since then... even for someone with my resources. The only way to know for certain would be to see him ourselves, but that is not possible at the moment.”
Rising from his throne like an unyielding mountain, his presence alone seemed to command the very air in the room. "Assuming,"—and here he paused, allowing the silence to build and magnify his next words—"assuming I were inclined to accede to your perspective," he continued with deliberate pace, "I would pose but a single query to you."
With a piercing gaze that could dissect truth from falsehood, King Theron fixated upon his subject.
“What did you tell this human before you left? My council and I heard the entire conversation, and before you left, communication cut off for a few moments. I know you used telepathy to communicate something from him, away from prying ears. Do tell.”
Nazareth’s poker face faltered briefly, his eyes widening slightly. Shit. Despite countless thoughts racing through his mind, he retained an outer composure. “Ah, indeed,” Nazareth began cautiously, “I assure you it was nothing significant, Your Majesty. As I mentioned, the myths claim that one can discern a Chosen through their aura. Richter is a newly-inducted human who hasn’t even received the tutorial and is unaware of his passive aura. His aura is wild and untamed—I could tell he wasn’t the one the first time I met him just by monitoring its surface level. However, before I left, I double-checked every aspect of his aura and reached the same conclusion. That said, Your Majesty is correct: I offered him some final advice like ‘don’t die’ and such, nothing more.”
Nazareth held his expression, even under the immense pressure he felt facing the King. The King studied him, eventually opening his mouth. “What you state does seem to hold merit. Though I must admit, my dissatisfaction is immense.”
Nazareth’s eyes gleamed as he finally saw an opportunity. “My most sincere apologies, Your Majesty. I did everything I could with my limited information of a Chosen, but fate just wasn’t aligned this time. I wish to find them, though, and I think I have a proposition that may benefit both of us.”
Theron prompted him to continue, “Allow me to participate in the Dominion when the system grants access. This is no longer any ordinary Dominion, Your Majesty; it’s the pursuit of a Chosen. We’re up against any other empire that managed to secure a slot, leaving us no time to waste. Among all contenders, my skills and expertise regarding the planet far surpass any others.”
"Your proposal holds merit," King Theron's voice thundered, resolute and commanding.“Your knowledge and experience with the world could prove valuable as we compete for Dominion. However, can I truly trust you? Your recent actions have given me reason to doubt your loyalty.”
Nazareth bowed his head respectfully. “Your Majesty, I understand your concerns. I only acted on what I believed to be our empire’s best course of action. My loyalty has always been unwavering in my service to you. If it pleases Your Highness, I will provide the necessary assurances that my allegiance will remain unyielding.”
King Theron contemplated in silence before issuing his verdict. When at last he spoke, his voice resonated with absolute power. “It is decreed, Nazareth. My apprehensions tower firmly in place, yet I shall extend to you the privilege to cross into the ranks of the Dominion—but this boon comes tethered to a singular, unyielding condition,” he commanded with an iron resolve. “Upon your honor and your life’s worth, you will bind yourself to an oath that not a single act of yours shall cast a shadow upon our empire or its endeavors. Betray us, and you willingly submit to the full spectrum of retribution that I alone will dictate. Do you agree to these terms?”
Nazareth hesitated as a pale, transparent screen flickered before his eyes. A binding contract.
[You have been offered a Binding Contract by King Theron of the Tyrian Empire]
[Upon your honor and your life’s worth, you will bind yourself to an oath that for the length of your time in the Dominion, your actions will be solely in the interests of the Empire. Should you break this contract, you will submit to any punishment deemed fit by the contract holder. Accept? Y/N]
Nazareth felt tiny beads of sweat on the back of his neck as his mind raced. He stood pondering for a moment before opening his mouth, saying every word with exact deliberation. “I swear upon my life and honor that my intentions are just. My sole mission is to find the true Chosen, securing victory for our empire.”