VFR Azer ôv-Âlôvaikôr, Will of the Lightning King

In a time immemorable, there was peace throughout the World. A glorious Coalition of Planets existed between the Tarsin Kingdoms that ruled it. They possessed sorcery beyond our understanding, for surely it was they that first bended space to open rifts into the Ether and forged living worlds from cold rocks... but this is not that time- this is much later.

— Entarî, the Constructor; counseling a Zaian youth; date unknown.

 

 

Ships of Old- holy artifacts that echo back to a time immemorable, a time before the great cataclysm. Yet, for they may also be an eternal tomb, dooming their unfortunate crew for a life of horror in the Etherreal Realm. How many trapped souls are lost to us? How many more have been taken by demon constructs for their nihilistic torments? For it is written, 'The Dead are not All that Sleep.'

While there are many of these ships of the Old Coalition in our fleets this day, they are still few in number; a rare sight indeed. This ship is no exception, rather, it is exceedingly grand amongst an armada of lesser ships, like unto a most glorious drop of anointed oil in a lake of holy water. Let me retell you the story of its making...

 

"There was once one man who sought to unite all the Tarsin Kingdoms of Old under his rule. He requested that the senate meet him at a building that we today call the Gates, where he revealed that he was a god of the pantheon in the guise of a mortal, come to retire the senate for the had determined that the World was finally worthy. The senate, however, denounced him and exiled him from Tarsis, homeworld and birthplace of civilization.

"In his spite, he rallied the allegiance of many Highlander Lords and constructed a glorious ship to herald his coming. As his brotherhood grew in strength, it is said that he too grew in strength, for their faith bridged the material realm to that of the Gods'.

"One morning, on a choice day when the stars of the World had aligned, he assembled his followers within the grand colonnade of his ship, where made yet another vow that he would one day rule them in his glory. He harkened to eight of his most skilled and loyal followers where he began his ritual coronation- it is said he then opened a rift into the ether in the space above them using only his hands, where he declared that upon the sacrifice of eight of the most choice newborn children from each of his eight followers' kin, his immortality in the material realm would be cemented and that the souls of the children would later return as crystalline demigods to serve as his eternal Auctor-guard.

"And it was this night that he imbued his hammer with the keys of divinity and was given the name Lightning King for he possessed dominion over the people. This is why there are some who, even to this day, call the Emperor by this name for they say he is his reincarnation, forever watching over the mortal systems."

 

Or so the texts read. There are other texts within the Archive that depict the Lightning King as a tyrant that meddled in dark sorceries. No matter the case, when I discovered the Azer ôv-Âlôvaikôr miraculously and spontaneously emerging from the ether as many Old Ships do, I knew at once it had to be reclaimed. Against the wishes of the Chancellor, who believed the ship should be brought to the Archival space dock to be studied, I petitioned the Emperor himself to travel with it and serve as a legate, so the warriors who take up this holy mission might see how truly sanctioned they are. Since that day, the whispers I hear from this ship have not ceased.

 

 

"If only he knew the demonic bond he has thrown himself into. This one I cannot stop."

— Entarî, the Constructor; a message sent to the Archive; 2284, three months prior to Earth's retake of Murs-Sonctarom, where Azithîr died at the hands of UNE's 'Feta Squad.'

Done