>>5511135You admittedly have… MISGIVINGS… About some of the strictures which this oath would place upon you. What of the Great Conspiracy? Surely the entirety of your Master Race’s epoch-long plan runs contrary to the commandments of a Knight Ascendant? But… Well, the God of Glory is a very direct entity, as Dark Gods go. A closer reading of his words provides key loopholes and, while to over-exploit such technicalities could be seen as ignoble in the eyes of such a proud conqueror as He of the Golden Pelage, you think you understand the limits in which you would operate as his agent.
And why should you NOT prioritize the Swallower of Sunlight? Which Great Darkness better embodies the Dragon Soul to which you strive than the God of Ambition, the Father of Eclipses and Destroyer of the Light? He who demands and promotes strength of spirit and body above all else… Is he not the ideal to which you strive? Your people have long leaned upon the Lawgiver—absent as he now is from proceedings—to preserve them, but it has led to a… A… A HOLDING pattern, a perpetual backfoot which now leaves the whole Priesthood panicking at the capture and exposure of a single male. This precarious state cries out for change, and change requires the guidance of the strong.
“I will be that change,” you say, more to yourself than to anyone else.
“I SENSE IT IN YOU,” the Serpent Ascendant answers back. “YOU HAVE MADE UP YORU MIND, MORTAL.”
“Yes,” you agree, and look up.
Your eyes dry and redden at the blast of stolen solar heat and magnificence, the rays of seized sunlight which even now blast apart the darkness at the Glorious God of War and Victory reveals himself to you more fully. His siblings shrink away, not retreating but blown back by the display, made more distant as your own spiritual connection to your new patron strengthens.
“RISE,” commands the God of Pride.
You do so, standing tall and strong, forcing yourself to meet his terrible gaze—indeed, like staring into an eclipse, it is dark and light, distorting and wrapping your vision, almost blinding you.
“ENDURE,” he commands.
You do not look away, even as you are baked as in an oven, burned as in a furnace, your every sense overwhelmed at once by brightness, the stench of burning flesh and blood, the ululations of the victorious and screams of the despairing dead who stood before your master and were cast down and destroyed.
“GOOD,” the Serpent Ascendant says, tone as approving as it ever might be. “GO FORTH, AND DO NOT FAIL ME.”
