The Ministrations---Inside the Eye

[Herald_of_Fate]

The 2nd Minister, the Grand Inquisitor, Imjaz Bel Kali'sik sat cross-legged upon the dais, her eyes concealed as they always were behind the polished silver band she'd had branded over her blind retinas decades ago. Her fiery red locks were woven intricately into a massive golden headress that cascaded to her slender shoulders, its motif depicting a multitude of eyes and horns. Her dress was sheer and of a fabric that shone like chrome, covering her body from just under her chin to her toes. Motionless as a statue, she meditated, using her talents to do as was her function: to See.

It was a strange concept to an outsider, the thought that she was blind and yet could perceive the world around her more astutely than any in Xelion. Her power was not unique, but the level it had achieved most certainly was. In this room, devoid of anything but the dais, in her tower at the highest point in Xelion, the winds that blew over the entire planet were funneled in. These winds carried minute bits of data about happenings the world over if one has the gift to decipher them. And she was the most gifted at it in all of Xelion, if not all of Dystopia. She used this gift much like one used their eyes when watching a map with the exception that things on the map moved and she could zoom in and witness the events in real-time and at far closer detail than many would be able to follow. And now she had that gift, known to most as the Ministers' Eye, trolling the length and breadth of Dystopia, searching for the wayward one...one of her own. Usually, one would find it impossible to dodge this sort of surveillance as anything the air touches was covered by her gaze, or so she claimed. But try as she might, she could not find him. Or rather, she'd see him for a second in one place, move in close only to find he'd moved on too quickly for her to follow. A slight twitch of her upper lip was the only outward sign of her agitation.

Damn him, the clever fool...Did he believe he would find her with all this random shifting?! We ourselves do not know where she was sent. And soon enough, a detainment force would be sent. Skillful as he was, powerful as he was, a platoon of Legionnaires should be enough to subdue him, especially with a Dreadguard in command. Jekyll would be captured.

A lady in waiting, nude save for the chains that wrapped around her breasts and midriff, entered the chamber, prostate and crawling on her knees. Her eyes were covered by a thick black ribbon and her mouse brown hair was cropped short. The long claws of her metallic gauntlets scrapped the marble floor of the chamber, lit dimly by torches, as she came into her Mistresses' presence.

'Sighted One, my apologies for interrupting, but the Legionnaire dispatched north to investigate the first sighting point has failed to report.' the woman intoned, her voice reverent and monotone. Though fear rippled through her, she would not show it...fear was weakness and weakness was a death sentence in Xelion, especially before a Minister.

Imjaz lowered her head slightly, acknowledging this with a barely perceptible tightening of her jawline. Her visage was both beautiful and terrifying as she spoke, his voice sounding far deeper and more booming than one might expect from a woman of her stature. "Have the other Ministers been informed of this development?" she questioned, her tone cold.
The lady bowed even lower, knowing that by being honest, she might be taking her life into her hands. "Not yet, Mistress...but dispatches are being sent." she murmured. Imjaz look contemplative as she answered. "Call them back. Is the Collar of the Legionnaire still functioning?" The attendant raised her head slightly as if listening to a voice in her head before responding. "The Collar's beacon still functions but is immobile. The Legionnaire is either dead or unconscious. He cannot possibly be free..."

"Free, Nemoda? Do you mean to insult my intellect by suggesting something so outrageous? An unCollared Legionnaire is hardly more than an animal, a killing machine as likely to slaughter friend as foe." The Minister thundered, straightening slightly in her pose. "You must be punished for such blasphemous thoughts!!!"

The Minister's hand raised toward the groveling woman, now quaking with fear. She would silence this one, she mused. No one could learn of this...the Legionnaires were too great a symbol of power to allow their reputation to be tarnished by the exposure of even this tiniest of vulnerabilities. The chains wrapped around the attendant tightened to an agonizing level, the woman's peals for mercy and screams of agony filling the air. The chains slowly began to crush muscle,sinew, and bone, the horrible cracking sound cutting off the screams as the woman began to drown in her own blood. She have to see to this missing Legionnaire herself to be sure it was handled properly. Perhaps the detainment force could be utilized for this as well...

[Herald_of_Fate]

Dr. Pazal Jekyll, the Ascendant One and 1st Minister of Xelion, stared over the burning forest on the far southern edge of Kalmarden, his obsidian eyes cold and calculating. His minions, the ferocious hellhounds known as Flaregores, had already fanned out ahead of him, their magmatic saliva igniting blazes wherever the rhino-sized monstrousities choose to tread. He'd discovered only rumors and whispers about this land where little moved during the day and the night seemed to rule. Vampires and lycanthropes held an uneasy truce here; the vampire under the banner of some being known as the Mother, the wolves ruled by a king whose name he'd been unable to discover. Not that it mattered. They were merely an obstacle to his reclaiming what was his and he had no intention of returning to Xelion empty-handed.

Silently he cursed his betrayal at the hands of his fellow Ministers. How dare they steal his essence and try to reduce his powers?! A clone...one so affected by Jekyll's peculiar effect on quantum probability, it grew to be female instead of male. That is what they'd sought to steal, this strange talent. It was a mere side effect of his power, his ability to translate his alpha brainwaves into physical forces. A number of Xelion scientists theorized that he gave off some form of tachyon radiation when using his powers but in truth no one knew for sure. And to Jekyll, it didn't matter. The very fact the other Ministers had dared to replicate him in any form infuriated him. His philosophy was often contrary to the others, who believed that their technology, the level of which had skyrocketed following the Rift event, was the answer to quelling the rest of Dystopia. But jekyll did not; conquering the recovering nations was a waste of time in his eyes. Nature decided who truly ruled, elevating the strong and culling the weak. He shunned the use of the technologically augmented forces of the Legionnaires and Dreadguards. He despised the other Ministers for their unwillingness to participate in battle directly, marshalling armies with telepathy from miles away.

And now after their plot, he vowed to be the instrument of their undoing, to return the free will of those psychically enslaved by the Ministers and uncover their greatest secret...the identity of the Voice. The Voice was an enigma, so deep even the Ministers himself had never actually laid eyes upon him. Xelion was his creation and his kingdom, the Ministers hanging on his every word with near religious fervor. Except for Jekyll, whom the Voice called the Doubter. He'd always felt that the Voice was not to be trusted and current events fit his belief exactly. The Voice would pay as well, but first things first.

His minions had found something, their inhuman howls echoing through the night. A crater....an empty crater.