Below the cloudscapes a green ocean simmered with white-capped waves. Three weeks the Holy Armada had been flying, and still no sign of land. The sea below must be truly vast. Yet they must be close to the other side of the world now. Sungui could feel it, as he had felt the entirety of the ship while communing with the Ethus at its core.
He stood now before the double doors of Zyung’s quarters. As tall and grand as any palace portals they stood, engraved with holy sigils and the flame-eyed face of Zyung. The doors were made thrice the height of a man to accommodate the Almighty’s great size. Rarely did Zyung reduce himself to the size of a mortal, though it was easily within his power. The multitudes needed to see that their God was a massive and imposing figure. Two hulking Manslayers stood before the portal, one on either side. They bowed as Sungui approached, uncrossing their barbed spears and pulling the doors open.
The Almighty’s council chamber was as large as a provincial King’s throne room. It spread across the entire width of the forecastle, with oval windows admitting rays of sunshine through colored glass. The ceiling was high and vaulted, supported by eighteen pillars of amber wood. Each pillar was shaped into the form of its own tree, although these were merely extensions of the great Ethus Tree below. Tapestries of jeweled silk hung along the walls or separated the front of the chamber from the sleeping quarters at its far end. The Almighty’s personal slaves scurried about the room carrying pitchers of wine and water, sweeping the rich carpets, and preparing platters of foodstuffs for their lord and his visitors.
Zyung’s gigantic form sat in a larger yet less ornate version of the captain’s command chair. Before him sat a table of polished obsidian scattered with oversized scrolls, leather-bound tomes, maps, quills, and goblets. A circlet of flawless platinum held back Zyung’s black mane. His skin was polished bronze, and his silver robe was the exemplar upon which all the robes of the Seraphim were patterned. His eyes were miniature suns, his chin a block of marble. A chain of black opals glittered across the slab of his chest.
Before the high table, in seats built to accommodate their lesser sizes, sat the three advisors who had already arrived: Lavanyia with her mound of sable hair wound in golden wire; Gammir the Black Wolf in his slim human form, and Ianthe the Pale Panther in her womanly shape. Ianthe’s skin and hair were pale as milk, her nails sharp as talons, her lips red as blood. Her beauty rivaled even Lavanyia’s. She stared at Sungui with feline eyes. No longer did he imagine Lavanyia as a lioness of the plains; the feral nature of Ianthe dispelled all notions of Lavanyia as a predatory creature. Ianthe still looked every bit the cat, even when shaped as a woman. Gammir’s black hair and eyes likewise maintained their lupine aspect, although he was unexpectedly handsome. Sungui wondered if the two expatriates were related in some way.
Lavanyia’s presence was surprising. She tended the Ethus Tree of the Flametongue, and had never set foot on the Daystar until now. Yet she stood first among the High Seraphim, so the Almighty must have summoned her for some reason. Perhaps a new strategy had been devised for the coming invasion.
An empty chair waited for Sungui. He bowed to the Almighty and settled himself in its cushioned seat. Both of the expatriates wore the silver robes of Seraphim. Were the Wolf and Panther to be counted among the ranks of the Holy? It must be so, for only Seraphim were permitted to wear such garments. Sungui would not be foolish enough to question the Almighty’s wisdom on the subject. The four guests sat meek as children before an imposing father.
Zyung regarded them with eyes hard and bright as diamonds. His voice was the rolling of distant thunder. One did not simply hear the Almighty’s words, one felt them resonating in the bones that lay beneath flesh and skin.
“Tender of my Ethus Tree,” said Zyung. “Your work does not go unnoticed. Would that I had another thousand with your skill at woodcraft.”
Sungui bowed his head. The eyes of Lavanyia fell upon him, but he felt the gazes of Gammir and Ianthe most keenly. Their stares were leaden weights upon his shoulders.
“I live only to serve His Holiness,” Sungui said. The words were ritual, the only proper response to such praise.
Zyung waved one of his great fingers and a network of chromatic lights spread through the air between his guests. In a moment’s time the colors resolved themselves into a map, one with which Sungui had some familiarity. Yet now the map bore details and reliefs that had never existed in previous versions. It hovered before them, a vision of the continent to which they were heading.
“While awaiting word from Ongthaia,” said Zyung, “I have learned much from the Wolf and Panther. Before your eyes stands the Land of the Five Cities in more detail than any have seen until now. I have discussed our strategy with my generals and decided upon the most favorable tactics. We shall establish the seat of the Extended Empire here…”