A P E X
Chaos.
In but an instant, the facade of a jovial feast was cast to the wind. The whispers of the White Empress had spurned her Champions into action. Gone were the prim and proper tones of the Paecian Court. Gone were the idle niceities and frivolity. In their place was the sweet symphony of vengeance. Deep down, the White Empress did not derive any sort of pleasure from ordering the slaughter of her kin. She did not enjoy seeing Paecian blood spilled upon the very halls of her Castle Albast. Yet for the sake of the Empire's future, sacrifices must be made.
And those that opposed progress would need to be put down.
For a mere moment, the White Empress remained stoic upon her throne. Her gaze swept to and fro whilst the massacre unfolded before her very eyes. Lightning danced across the room, claiming the life of a bold traitor. The din of blasters and the proclamations of loyal troopers heralded the execution of many more. Yet one evaded demise. One, the literal head of the serpent, attempted to flee whilst her defender launched himself into the frey. It was a sad thing that the White Empress' own aunt would act so strongly against her...but such was the nature of treachery.
When retreat seemed to be the only option for the aging noble, she found no means of escape. The doors were barred. Chaos stood between her and any plausible exit; and the Champions of the White Empress were closing in. Yet, just as she had commanded, the aunt did not succumb to any harm. She was seized and unceremoniously dragged upon the floor. With each step, her regal gown began to seep with the blood of her supporters. Finally, she was released before her niece who then rose. Then, for but a moment, wrath burned in the eyes of the White Empress.
"You rallied my people against me. You spat in the face of the aspirations of Paecia. For this sin, for this treason, your life is forfeit."
The words of the monarch rang strong and true about the Hall, with silence befalling all who watched. A single step was taken, descent gripped the pristine form of the Empress, and she raised her dominant hand. At once, tendrils of gold manifested and leapt forth: The epitome of hunger born through the Force. Each latched on to the traitor's body whilst a horrified wail filled the air. Her strength. Her vitality. Her essence. All was consumed by the White Empress.
And in the wake of this Feast, a withered husk was left behind.
Now, with all eyes upon her, the White Empress addressed her champions. Her voice, bold and strong, bellowed with passion; yet an undeniable sorrow clung to every word. No monarch would ever derive pleasure from the slaughter their own people. No monarch would ever feel apathy after witnessing such an event. Yet, troubled was the brow that wore the crown.
"From across the stars, you rallied to my Call. You stood alongside me when my own kin sought my blood. Today, my champions, I do hereby open my arms to embrace you. Today, you may call Paecia your home and its people your kin. The road ahead will not be easy. It will be paved with challenges and adversaries greater than those you felled today. Yet I have faith that we will triumph over them all."
"The Galaxy is ours. It is ours by right of birth, and nothing will ever prevent our reclaimation. Today, the Paecian Empire begins its Resurgence!"
In but an instant, the facade of a jovial feast was cast to the wind. The whispers of the White Empress had spurned her Champions into action. Gone were the prim and proper tones of the Paecian Court. Gone were the idle niceities and frivolity. In their place was the sweet symphony of vengeance. Deep down, the White Empress did not derive any sort of pleasure from ordering the slaughter of her kin. She did not enjoy seeing Paecian blood spilled upon the very halls of her Castle Albast. Yet for the sake of the Empire's future, sacrifices must be made.
And those that opposed progress would need to be put down.
For a mere moment, the White Empress remained stoic upon her throne. Her gaze swept to and fro whilst the massacre unfolded before her very eyes. Lightning danced across the room, claiming the life of a bold traitor. The din of blasters and the proclamations of loyal troopers heralded the execution of many more. Yet one evaded demise. One, the literal head of the serpent, attempted to flee whilst her defender launched himself into the frey. It was a sad thing that the White Empress' own aunt would act so strongly against her...but such was the nature of treachery.
When retreat seemed to be the only option for the aging noble, she found no means of escape. The doors were barred. Chaos stood between her and any plausible exit; and the Champions of the White Empress were closing in. Yet, just as she had commanded, the aunt did not succumb to any harm. She was seized and unceremoniously dragged upon the floor. With each step, her regal gown began to seep with the blood of her supporters. Finally, she was released before her niece who then rose. Then, for but a moment, wrath burned in the eyes of the White Empress.
"You rallied my people against me. You spat in the face of the aspirations of Paecia. For this sin, for this treason, your life is forfeit."
The words of the monarch rang strong and true about the Hall, with silence befalling all who watched. A single step was taken, descent gripped the pristine form of the Empress, and she raised her dominant hand. At once, tendrils of gold manifested and leapt forth: The epitome of hunger born through the Force. Each latched on to the traitor's body whilst a horrified wail filled the air. Her strength. Her vitality. Her essence. All was consumed by the White Empress.
And in the wake of this Feast, a withered husk was left behind.
Now, with all eyes upon her, the White Empress addressed her champions. Her voice, bold and strong, bellowed with passion; yet an undeniable sorrow clung to every word. No monarch would ever derive pleasure from the slaughter their own people. No monarch would ever feel apathy after witnessing such an event. Yet, troubled was the brow that wore the crown.
"From across the stars, you rallied to my Call. You stood alongside me when my own kin sought my blood. Today, my champions, I do hereby open my arms to embrace you. Today, you may call Paecia your home and its people your kin. The road ahead will not be easy. It will be paved with challenges and adversaries greater than those you felled today. Yet I have faith that we will triumph over them all."
"The Galaxy is ours. It is ours by right of birth, and nothing will ever prevent our reclaimation. Today, the Paecian Empire begins its Resurgence!"