Conditor Imperatoris Lucia Pike.

17th of Septara, 1492.

20:00.

[Prestige Paladin, Oath of the Valkyrien Empress: Step 4, Monarchical Valkyries - Task Complete.]

[Reward - Active Skill [Valkyrien Cape.] While the Valkyrie only seeks the worthy, the Valkyrien Empress seeks more; a fact manifested in the Valkyrien Cape - both a distinguishment for the almost worthy and a key to rebirth in the upper realms of Eotrom.]

[Reward - Mutation [Imperial Valkyrien Helm.] The Valkyrien Empress' helm is not armor for the flesh, but a spiritual nexus of the mind and the minds of your court, allowing all from thought and perception to emotion and devotion to be shared by all Royal Valkyries as one.]

[Reward - Mutation [Imperial Valkyrien Throne.] Manifested in your spirit by the God-Emperor's will, your throne is both an amplifier of the Imperial Valkyrien Helm and an amplifier of your celestial spirit, enabling you to duplicate and impose your will across the mortal realms when seated atop it.]

*** Where the other legions were occupied with preparations for what was to come in Rhar, the heart of Nonus, and the Great Marulean Crusade, mine was occupied with reflection. Reflection on the culmination of our training and documentation of the boons received from Eotrom's deities, the Darkroom, and, most recently, the Nox. As the year had, it all began with Lady Iris. Perhaps too, it would end with her. In the southern peninsula, at least. But the northern peninsula was soon to be the Bodhi Tree's land of the dead, making its mirror our focus.

The ascension of the Tech Goddess saw all the technology Amun strove so hard to bring into these realms become perfected, tailored to befit the personas, lifestyles, and abilities of us Conditor, the Legions founders. While we all were graced with those things upon emerging from the Darkroom, few were graced as much as the Legions' generals, having their minds enhanced beyond belief to connect them to the so-called Game. From that Game we received areas of operation. Orders to complete for the grand scheme of the Legions. Requests to fulfill various means or find hidden paths. Tasks to complete in our daily lives. Yet none were blessed by the Tech Goddess of Militaries, Recycling, and Information as much as the Cogs of Eotrom. Edward Pascal's 3rd Legion. Her touch saw the Grim Gear he created be copied, tailored to fit his highest officers, and be integrated into their flesh, bringing them into her Tree of Cybernetic Life in ways even the generals were not, for the Domain he grew to claim was that of Industry, not Technology. So it was, the same was true for Ed's Valkyrie, Udalia Bebin. Her armor became like her skin. Her tunic became like her armor, capable of integrating with the wind-powered machinations of my world and the many types of industries found in the 3rd Legion. And so she delivered, not just for Ed or for me, but for the Tech Goddess; bringing her souls fit for machines.

The ascension of the Sea Goddess of Mineral Wealth and Mafias saw our times of recreation improve by leaps and bounds, for Chako Blude took on a role that would make certain our morale would never falter. She cleansed our residential undead, dressed them in silks and masks in accordance with our cultures, and bestowed them an air of professionalism that would cater to our homely needs. She made them into maids. Maids who were a jack of all trades. Hair stylists and barbers; massage therapists; spa workers; chefs; laborers; medics; pilots; sailors, anything we'd need and more we never thought to have. She gave us these things indiscriminately. But a chosen few across the Legions received more, and only one Legion received all. Blude gave keys to every rogue in the Legions, granting them access to her Grand Hadal Estates. Safe houses they could teleport to at a moment's notice - mansions in the heart of her Umas. The 9th Legion, however, received her blessings to become monarchs of her seas. Now, the wild creatures of the ocean deep saw them as natives of the depths, not as intruders. And so, the ocean deep became another expanse of land to those the Lunarians called legendary. And so their Imperator grew to claim the Domain of Sailing. So it was, the same was true for Hogaz's Valkyrie, Meritides Proncruo. Her fin-like wings treated air like water and water like air, opening up the depths of the Worlds Seas and its natives for her to seek, see, and deliver.

The Ascension of the Celestial Goddess of Reconnaissance and Communication saw the telescopes, radar, lidar, radios, relays, and other such equipment be tailored to the energies of each legion, greatly expanding the NoxNet and the sensory prowess of each Imperator in one fell swoop. Yet none were blessed in other ways like the Sky Skimmers. Having already been augmented with their SCAMs and other items, Geri enhanced the engines and motors Amun and Ed created by imbuing them with the metals of ice and air born on her world, allowing the Legionaries to which they were distributed to fly ever-faster and higher above the skies, where we reigned, using the ice and air components of their weapons to synergize with their Imperator's domains of Flight and Thunder. So it was, the same was true for Duke's Valkyrie, Steinunn Drist. Her body became like that of spring and winter; her wings like sky and storm, enabling her to seek thrice as far as the Skimmers for which she delivered.

The ascension of the Celestial God of Agriculture and Logistics saw the most immediate change to the Legions' capabilities, for we all became breathless upon receiving our rations. But it did not stop there. On the contrary, those rations from Freki were just the beginning. Each of our worlds received crops both commercial and industrial, tailored to befit the environments of our wise rocks and woven worlds, no matter how hot, cold, wet, or airy they were. Castle's worth of stockpiles were granted to us founders. Not only to feed our subordinates, but to feed those who needed feeding; to starve those who needed starving. And yet, none were fed by Freki as much as the Vulcans. Everything from the design of his trains to the charred flora his sorcery was shared with the 4th Legion. Even the hulking machinations the Summer Wolf Pack used to seed the worlds of Eotrom with flora; or fire. Or, after the 4th got their hands on them, lava pulled from the Volcanic Domain of their Imperator. So it was, the same was true for Princess Roheisa's Valkyrie, Elara Aghagan. Her feathers grew to be as fertile as the soil both her Imperator and their celestial sponsor could birth, acting on the realms around her to give life where it was burned and buried and deliver those who were buried and burned.

The ascension of the God of Alchemy and Mutations saw everything from the Legion's undead to our civilians change; not indiscriminately, as the blessings had been thus far, but with precision. The denizens of Eotrom were given the choice to enhance themselves with the permanent brews of the Eldritch Engineer. Immunities, resistances, and abilities born anew, purchased at negligible prices for all. Yet none were blessed by him as much as the Lordlings. Like the body of their sponsor, the vampires and draconian beings of the 11th Legion saw their bones, blood, and flesh be enhanced with weaponized limbs, spatially pocketed wounds, and machinations of blood and shadow-corrupted fire; all to bring them more in line with the prowess of their Imperator and his Shadowfire Domain. So it was, the same was true for Elijah's Valkyrie, Lachesis Thost. Her voice became silkily smooth like the Exalted Gloom's, despite it being charred and left smoky by the umbral fire and smoke that drained color from the realms; and her, attuned to seek those corrupted draconian things.

The ascension of the Goddess of Architecture and Funerals saw our civilians live like the royals they were meant to be, supported by the undead who rose when her burial practices ceased. She taught them to build temples, castles, theaters, and more, according to our tastes and aligned with the Nox's rules, erected across the Legion's lands of light. In darkness, she gave us ways to celebrate the passing of the worthy and bury them with honors, and molded our undead into artists that immortalized the culture we forged on our worlds, Umas, and towers with our songs of yore. Yet none were blessed by her as much as the Crowns of Eotrom. To the 2nd Legion, Rickley Ravenbrook gave perspective. The perspective of a street urchin in Nevstan's most famous city, birthing a passionate conviction to nullify such conditions in our lands. In spirit, however, she gave the Crowns an accursed famine they could induce by paper, to be used to plague the culture hated by the God-emperor so; all so those usurped domains could support the branch of nature held by their Imperator's Divine Beast Domain. So it was, the same was true for his Valkyrie, Mohoana Claritia. Rather than her body, her mind was molded to seek more than just the worthy. She grew to seek the unworthy as well, if only to find the unlucky few like Rickley within. The unworthy and the bestial divine.

The ascension of the Goddess of Ecology and Life gave the legions the most, some believed. As Freki gave each legion flora - crops tailored for our worlds, energies, and abilities - Reina created entire branches of life suited for our domains. Beasts to raise for slaughter. Beasts for labor. Beasts for war. Beasts for companionship; all birthed in her kitchens of flesh and spread across our worlds to thrive. Yet none were blessed by the Flesh Mother as much as the Keepers. Through flora and flesh, the 6th Legion was given ways to meld and connect with nature on a scale unseen by druids, rangers, and his elemental monks alike, giving them the means to truly become one with the entities that thrived within the Elemental Domain of their Imperator. So it was, the same was true for his Valkyrie, Fauna Amurdad. Her armor and wings became like living entities, capable of adapting to any environment, like the adaptations the Keepers imposed onto their environment, allowing her to broaden her deliverance to those beyond the Trees of Life.

The God of Bones and Combat's ascension saw the Legions become rigidly disciplined in our daily lives. Higher and higher standards were imposed on our undead and the marshals to ensure we kept to Amun's disciplinary and training standards and consistently improved our skills. The minions he granted us and the training regimes and facilities he had our undead build saw us return to days upon days of training with the same levels of intensity we would see in war, just as we'd seen in the Darkroom. Yet none were blessed by Leary as much as the Agents of the Undying Night. As the Legions' premier fighting force, the 1st Legion was granted more than just weapons of mass destruction, the means to make machinations from bone, superpowered tactics and maneuvers, or Leary's minions. Leary gave them an undying mentality through the heightened standards and extreme training he imposed on them. Through the use of every weapon in their war simulations, the Agents learned of undying tenacity; through their constant assaults against overpowered undead, they learned of undying strength; all to realize the undying conviction of their Imperator and his Tempest Domain. So it was, the same was true for his Valkyrie, Pelagia Nagdauf. While her armor and wings became ribbed with charged bone, her mind and spirit were tilted on their axis until they stood on end, resulting in her seeking not just the worthy dying, but to deliver those worthy of undeath.

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The ascension of Eotrom's God of Science and Mana Manipulation saw the Legions' arcane prowess balloon by leaps and bounds. From using wands or Raphew and casting with words of power and arcane glyphs to applying science to spellcraft and manipulation techniques, each legionary was soon required to expand their grimoires, using Eban's close observation across the Net to assist them. And yet none was blessed by him as much as the Plagues. While they too received blessings and boons to their arcane prowess, the 8th Legion's blessing from Eban Za'Darmondiel gave them what their Lordling counterparts had - a deeper connection to the Exalted Gloom. Through Shadowfire and Gloom, the Plagues made perhaps the deepest connection to our Eternal God-Emperor in all the empire. So it was, the same was true for her Valkyrie, Mathildis Fidiadi. Like many others, her mind was molded to something more befitting of both a vampire and a dragon, expanding the breadth of her seeking to those worthy of becoming those so-called evil things - things dwelling beneath the shade of Opal's Vampyre domain.

The ascension of the Eternal God of the universe saw his will manifest as the Legio Noctis, both in the divine realm and on the Mortal Plane. While blessed by each member of his Troupe individually, we Conditor were blessed thrice by his divine grace; the Primes twice. When coupled with our ultimate trial within the darkroom, we emerged as no mere students or members of a new guild. Yet we emerged still children, the prime deities of Eotrom, leading our demigod subordinates down the path to eternity. Yet none were blessed by Amun Za'Darmondiel-Nox as much as the Moon's Blooded. To his 7th Legion, he gave both his memories of the past and his dreams of the future, if only so they could take those things and use them in ways like us; mirrored to the Order of Worlds through the power of Zakira's Bloodmoon Domain. So it was, the same was true for her Valkyrie, Euphrosyne Shoubang, whose mind melded with the God-Emperor's in ways unlike any other, allowing her to seek, see, and deliver those who could impact his dreams the most; those who could reenact those memories the most accurately.

While every blessing catapulted the Legions' capabilities, it was Eotrom's God of Nebulae and Education, that made the Legions into the unyielding force Amun imagined so long ago. From Etan Za'Darmondiel came immense knowledge and the standards to learn it, which only climbed along with the Legions' ranks, as things should. From him, we learned the land's languages, landscapes, and economies; hidden pasts and dreamed futures; failures and accomplishments. We learned their capabilities and weaknesses, then trained extensively in the art of opposing them, tailored to each Legion's tactics and abilities. Yet none were blessed by him as much as my Deliverers. From his connection to the God-Emperor's sphinxes, we learned what was required of mortals and legionaries alike to reach Eotrom's highest echelon. Then used the knowledge gained to learn to look beyond the worthy by seeking potential in the unworthy, if only so we could mirror our oath to Seek, See, and Deliver; to Neglect, Disregard, and Keep. So it was, the same was true for my Valkyrie, Shivali Hemera. In adherence to my Domain of the Valkyrie, she was most similar in my appearance until our emergence from the Darkroom, when her helm, wings, and armor adopted the same gentle, gilded curves of those ancient sphinxes, giving her a connection to a being greater than I.

Everything stated was merely the beginning, however. From the God-Emperor and his Troupe, the Legions had been given all. And so, now that the tide had turned, it was time for the Legions to give to these mortal lands thrust upon us. Prosperity and power in places like Bakewia, Nevstan, and Ligin; a forceful evolution in places like Mazi, Brybs, and Rhar. In the Principality of Chaulort, we would deliver competence. Though not in its rulers.

From my brass hall, high above, I could see Phelia, Helvia, Isstra, and Iris' hummingbird, appearing like shining ants to my bolstered eyes. They stood across from Ferris, Maes, and the young prince. Not the ruling Prince Daereindil, but his little brother, Prince Varyn Chaulort. Half-elven, and brimming with the naivety of youth.

Being one of the most developed nations in the Bodhi Peninsula, there was little work to be done to improve their infrastructure. In the short term, they only needed the energy we'd source them and the knowledge they'd gain from VoidNet. In the long term, they only needed to have their lands lifted to the skies. Yet the ruling prince was adamant about postponing that until he met Amun. That left their plague to be cleared by the Troupe; and more personal matters from the royal family. That, and my first task for this next chapter of the Legions' history.

***

Prince Varyn Chaulort.

***

I was never one to regale myself with tales of the Eternal Champion like my brother. Not to say he was old enough to have heard Telin's words. Only Commander Miller and our father witnessed it. But Daereindil surely listened throughout his 47 years. Being 30 years his younger, we had many differences. His… obsession with the Champion aside, the largest difference between us was how we were raised. Him, as a witch, as per our custom for firstborns. Me, as a monarch, whose educator and father died before his education could be completed. Never would I have thought the two would coincide in such a way.

The Eternal Champion, whom my brother obsessed about, would inherit the Bodhi Peninsula after the headmaster's passing. That made him the Bodhi Tree's emperor, in a sense. That made the Principality his, granting me an opportunity to finish my education and learn what it means to be a ruler from who many would consider the best. And so here I was in place of my brother, observing Commander Miller and my sister-in-law discuss terms with an exotic dark elf, an eerily lifelike metal hummingbird, and a Valkyrie, of all things.

She stood off to the side like I was, that Valkyrie, unmoving like an armored statue. Helvia Uzun, her name was; a Grave Keeper, they called her. Yet I could liken nothing to that name or title besides a stern mouth and a face hidden beneath a baroque mask of a helm. With such a stature, I know not if she even cared about what was discussed. At no point from her entrance until now has she reacted. Not when discussing infrastructure or economies or allies and enemies across the Peninsula; at no point of the royal address or after the vote was cast did she even react. Such a presence made it hard to focus on what mattered. Such a presence made it hard to focus on anything.

Almost anything.

"We have traced the origin of the plague to a mutated slug just over the Kasian border." The strange drow was saying, pulling my attention away from the Valkyrie. "Analysis shows that it's attuned to earth mana. The cause of your plague comes from a pheromone in its slime trails. They dry, harden, and release something akin to spores, which calcifies those it contacts. We will continue to assist in containment until Mother arrives to handle it, as it's in Kasia, the 8th Legion's territory."

"Any idea when that would be?" Commander Miller asked, worry written clear across his face, despite the assurance of containment. Or perhaps it was because of anxiety or excitement over seeing the Elven Devil again. A thought seemingly reinforced by the dark elf's giggle.

"You can ask him yourself, you know?"

While the Commander's eyes fell in defeat, those words seemed to be enough for the armored statue to move for the first time in hours, snapping everyone's eyes to her as a radiant beam of multi-colored light descended from the heavens, landing in the courtyard outside to burn geometric symbols into the tiled stone before it cracked apart by the impact of something slamming home. Something that shone brighter than the beam itself, and more radiant than my sister-in-law's sorcery.

Blades as thin as feathers layered atop magnificent wings were the first things to appear from that pillar as it thinned. Yet the being within did not wait for it to wane before stepping a gilded boot towards us, the surrounding armor softly whining as if in protest of her actions - or in reverence, given the celestial brilliance outpouring from it. Or rather, its wearer, Lucia Pike. I couldn't be surprised at how quickly Ferris and Commander Miller rushed to her with news of the cast vote. I wasn't, for I was surprised by how easily it was done. To think I would rule a kingdom in their empire was… daunting. Especially when I witnessed them being capable of so much.

Imperator Pike took their words with a silent nod. Then, a gentle flap of those wings lifted her into the air, where she halted a few meters above the ground. As her fist clutched before her heart, I could see arcana pouring from her well to accumulate in her throat, where it shone as rich and golden as before until… something happened. I knew not if something broke, was released, or had been activated, but the Imperator's spirit bloomed beyond belief. It was as if her arcane well had imploded and simultaneously cascaded into the point of accumulation, imbuing her body and spirit with countless volumes of arcana until her body seemed to meet its limit, relegating the energy to flow to the lands beneath her and the air above her.

The gilded light of her form infused itself into the cloud's underbelly as the moments passed, reflecting a divine glow that the ground seemed to drink like light from a plant. The metallic feathers released by the gentle flaps of her metal wings dispersed through the air like murmurations, drifting through the silent winds to detach as individuals and float to the heads of me, Ferris, Commander Miller and possibly every other Chaulortian in the Peninsula. Then her eyes, shining like Tiatus itself, lifted to the silver eye above.

I recoiled in shock as nothing descended from that enigmatic object, for a stellar beam of celestial light shot from Lucia's faceless helm, rising to those brass-colored clouds to push through them and split, splaying across the skies to encompass the Principality in what looked like a gilded cage. At least until one of those godly rays descended on Crowmond entirety, overshadowed by the Imperator's incantation. "Doppelgangers, rise!"

Though she indeed incanted those words, it was the male voice layered atop the Imperator's that banged against reality itself. It rippled up to the heavens like a holy wave before echoing to the ground like dark thunder, rippling at our feet to continue into the darkness unabated. And so we watched our shadows deepen into pits at our feet. And so we watched a blob of darkness rise and congeal into a humanoid form before us. And so we listened to the scratching whispers of the abyssal night mold and dye those forms into our likenesses until those trailing whispers pulled those feathers from our heads, drawing them to our clones of the night. Those feathers multiplied and cascaded down their heads - uncannily identical to ours - on contact, wreathing the beings who rose from the night in robes of bladed feathers, infused with celestial light.

Though our slack jaws refused us any words, our newly birthed clones calmly stood at our sides, smirking and snorting tactlessly as they watched Imperator Pike drifting back to the ground. "Our work is complete until Amun arrives, per your request." She declared, drawing our senses to her by mere mention of his name. At least until we noticed her gesture to the lands beyond.

To our credit, it was hard for us to notice. We were in the geographical center of Crowmond, at the eastern endpoint of a fjord, fed from the eastern end of the Chaulortian Bay. Yet our official buildings faced the west. The sky above seemed no different, and the ground below seemed no less stable. And so we realized nothing until we gazed upon our Principality and focused on those distant cities, bathed in Imperator Pike's celestial light as this very city was. We understood nothing until our gazes lifted and witnessed our land rising toward those Brass Halls hidden within the clouds. Imperator Pike was not descending to our level. We were rising to hers.

To my surprise, Ferris stepped toward the Imperator the moment she landed. It was clear she wanted to say something, but was held back only by herself, as usual. Yet, she still didn't hesitate to speak her mind, as usual. "I- is…" she sighed, breathed again, and stepped forward. "Is this… tension just between Amun and Corym, or Rhar and Eotrom and the Legions?"

To no surprise, that wasn't the extent of her question. As usual, that was asked by Commander Miller in her stead. "Will there be war? If so, who will go to war with whom?"

"It is almost certain that the Legions will go to war against Rhar," Lucia said flatly. "A Bodhi Tree instructor cannot be killed by a student, however. So, I imagine King Corym will be cursed instead. But fear not, this war is between the Legions and Rhar only."

Ferris looked dejected at the answer. Considering her… philosophy, that was no surprise. No, I was surprised by the amused grin peering beneath Lucia's helm.

This would be amusing, indeed.

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