The Darkwhisper

The darkwhisper came to him suddenly, like an arm of Night slipping around his mind.
There was no warning. There was never any warning. It was something that eluded him. For all his mighty power, the darkwhisper came and he could never predict it. Presumably because for all of his power, the one who called was a dark ocean next to his pond.
Tell me, whispered the voice in his head. Not a thundering, or angry, or snarling voice. It was pleasant, calm and carried no threatening tones.
But the Grand Hierophant knew, it was a voice which could order the death of worlds.
“I worry about Nestlor, my Supreme Lord,” he said aloud.
You always do. You fear his traditionalist ways.
The Grand Hierophant shifted a little, glancing at his silent Hasturex guards.
“He refuses the Hasturex still. His army is organised in a manner blatantly hearkening to his resistance force from the Unification Wars. He openly dislikes the Priesthood. He could easily rise up against you.”
He won’t.
“I bow to you judgement.”
I know. But this is not what you have discovered.
The Grand Hierophant rose to his feet.
“No, it is not. The traitor is who we suspected. His arrogance is staggering. Should I eliminate him?”
No. I shall deal with him.
The Grand Hierophant knew better than to question such a statement, even when spoken so mildly.
“What is your will, my Supreme Lord?”
Watch him. Closely.
And the darkwhisper was gone, like oily veins of shadow pulling away.
The Grand Hierophant walked silently across the green-lit room, and looked to his Hasturex. Orders were passed silently and quickly through the Aethyr. One of them bowed, and marched silently away.
The Grand Hierophant walked back to his throne, settled himself back down, like a spider in the centre of its midnight web, and returned to his ponderings.

Published in: on February 1, 2009 at 11:21 pm  Leave a Comment  

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