Afrodelic
Loremaster
The gathered masses inspecting the palace as they walk through it. Many caught in conversation on the recent events that have transpired in Anjyarr.
As the masses came to enter the throne room, so many mouths were left agape by the mirrored floor, the high ceilings, the decorations that graced the walls, the wondrous smell of incense that bathed the hall. Yet as the ‘lunn from earlier cut through the crowd after having directed the masses. He stood beside the old scholar that many started to recognize: Esebius. The older ‘lunn offered many nods to those that offered him waves or nods of their own. And at some point would raise his hand in their direction.
With the loud accumulation of noise being stifled by a resounding: “Silence, please!” The crowd slowly drew their attention upon the individuals that stood beneath the throne. Though whispers would still travel across lips within the gathered crowd. Many focused themselves, for surely they knew a momentous occasion was upon them. Why else would they be in the Sultanate’s very throne room?
The Azari’lunn that guided them in stepped forward, along with Esebius. Many whispers were offered as they stepped forward, some arguing that Esebius could not talk any longer, while others argued that ancient magics had given him his tongue back. But these whispers were cut by the resounding voice of the Azari’lunn beside Esebius.
“I am Ireneus, I shall serve as one of Esebius’ many voices in the ages to come.”
With a break in his words, Ireneus would lower his gaze to the journal he seemingly manifested in his hands as he spoke. With a quick clearing of his throat, the rather decorated ‘lunn began to offer the dictations from within the text:
“Dear people, I am honored to have you all gathered here. To witness the domed roof’s splendor from within the halls. To examine the exquisite tapestries weaved especially for these halls. To breathe the specially curated incense that was only ever to grace the noses of nobility. Aye, you are here, for the exclusions of the past have come to a halt. A halt I pray we keep, if I am to be honest. I have gathered you here, because I offer you a simple proclamation, that the whispers and the tolling bells have likely alluded to. The false Sultan, Rayyan Adib Nobara, is dead. In the demands made by the dissidents that he peacefully step down from the throne, which were reiterated a few times. Rayyan spewed curses upon the gathered people. The false Sultan than chose the offering of former Jundi, Taheer, to honorably duel to determine Rayyan's respective fate. In said duel, the false Sultan was bested, and fell before everyone while muttering acrid words for the age to come. Noted scholar, Qhirani Yaelnith, proceeded to behead Rayyan within the throneroom, which brought an end to the Nobara dynasty.”
Countless gasps could be heard through the retelling. Some were uncertain in what this all meant. While others offered cheers. And others remained quiet with only blank stares in their faces. One thing was for certain, the demands for change were inevitable now. The course of Anjyarr had seismically shifted.
“Dear people, it is in these perilous times that a new leader must be swiftly appointed to ensure the course of this nation does not fall into total chaos. Yes, there is no Sultan. But, if I am to be honest, there must not be any more Sultans. The divinity of the role has been tainted by the countless leaders that have bloodied our streets. In whose name do these rulers even speak for if not themselves? Though I know my words might be radical in their make. We are here, dear friends, we are without any heir. The Nobara line is no more. And the Crown is without a head underneath it. I do not intend to claim it, just as all my peers here do not intend to claim it. We have fought long and hard. I have escaped my bondage. And now I know that a new age is upon us. I beseech you, dear people, allow us to govern differently now. Allow us to transition away from the false autocracies that do not hear our voices. That have killed us in the street. Stripped us of our means of speaking.
Dear people, I offer myself before you, a humble servant. And propose, for the time being, a transitional government. This will serve to establish firm ground for us as we move onto the new Anjyarr. It will also give room for our citizens to offer their respective reflections and desires. Beyond this, the question of leadership arises. Who shall lead in the midst of change? I know a good number of those who aided in this revolution have called upon me, Esebius of Al-Khadir, to take up leadership for now. And in their support, I offer my name to you all. Though I shall not expect my name to ring certain in your ears. I do know myself most capable. In the coming weeks, we shall meet again within these halls, and I shall lay out policy proposals to you all which will likely offer a foundation for the times to come. In this meeting, I shall also confirm with you all whether I am most befitting to lead, or if others are more suited for the position. Good Ireneus shall serve as my voice. And if not him, then Qhirani. If leadership is afforded to me by the will of the people, I shall not claim any title beyond that of Elder, as was the title afforded to my Azari’lunn ancestors who led my kin during their exodus from the Glade. I do not make any claims to divine power if offered power. Only to the power bestowed upon me by the merit of my work. As such, I am mere guide in these moments. I pray that my words do not ring presumptuous in their make, and if they do, fear not challenging any claim I make. No tongues shall be stricken for talking against me.
Though, on matters of urgency. I shall be sending out formal statements to the head of each respective government within Eden. And I shall also be imploring any and all able citizens to organize into a militia and aid in the struggle against the Bone Lord. Organization of said militia will receive a formal declaration in the coming week. Along with that, proper date of assembly will also be sent out within this span of time.
With all this said, let me emphasize some important points. I am a humble servant, dear Anjyarr. I have lost my tongue for you. I would have more than lost my life for you. I offer these words, spoken from another mouth, so that you all know one thing is for certain. What is to come will be tumultuous. But it is only through the people that we have arrived here. Tomorrow is here. No longer are we guided by tyrants, despots, or children. If you have any questions, seek me out in these halls, the streets, the library, or anywhere in Anjyarr. I shall be here, prepared to offer you my written word always. Your humble servant, Esebius.”
As Esebius’ words were offered, the Azari’lunn stepped back to join the line of his fellow allies. He stared upon the crowd, as tears began to well in his eyes. Overwhelmed by emotion, quite clearly, the scholar did not turn. The corners of his lips curled into the most gentle of smiles. As Ireneus only placed a firm grip on his shoulder and muttered something in his direction. The rabble of the people continued as none spoke anymore. And with it, people would begin to approach the line of former dissenters and begin to talk to them in earnest.
Word of these events would travel quick, as the transcribed account would be mailed by Esebius across Anjyarr and to the other nations of Eden. So all spoken words read here would be available to any person living in Eden.
