Homecoming: The Return of an Heir Part 4 "See that those who serve you are anxiously engaged in fulfilling your ambitions. A servant that must be continuously compelled is of little value. And one that is too often idle will develop dangerous ambitions of his own." -From the First Chronicle of J'thenn. Sherla Botha'an continued her hurried course through the almost deserted ower levels of the Shi'ar palace. Most, if not all, of the servants that were currently on duty were busy seeing to the final preparations for tonight's opening ceremonies. Those servants that were fortunate enough to have received the night off were busily making the most of it in Chandilar's capitol city which was quite well known for it's zeal in celebrating the Festival of Lights. Therefore she was accorded complete privacy to contemplate her imminent meeting. As she had many times before, Sherla wondered how she had managed to get herself involved in her current position. Actually trapped might have been a more accurate description than involved. Once again, she drew on her memories of the different choices that she had made along the course of her scant twenty-three years and reviewed each one in detail. And, as always, she failed to experience any sudden stroke of illumination that allowed her to determine at what point in her past she had lost control of her life. The only thing of which she was absolutely certain was that the control now rested firmly in the hands of another, her Guardian, as the mysterious woman insisted on being addressed by her. The simple thought of her Guardian spurred the young servant to quicken her pace as she hurried thought the twisting corridors of the Imperial Palace. Her Guardian was a hard woman, and one whose wrath was easily kindled when one failed to please her. Sherla had been the recipient of that wrath on several different occasions and thus had no desire to repeat the experience if such was possible. It seemed that she had rarely proven to be more than adequate in her guardian's eyes, barely fit to be considered an Initiate into the Fal'korr. It frightened Sherla more than she cared to admit whenever her Guardian would contrast the young servant girl's inadequacies to her other disciple's accomplishments. Sherla had never learned the identity of her sibling in the Fal'korr but had heard whispered rumors that he possessed a high position within the society, even as much as a seat on the Council of Nine, though she doubted that rumor. No member of the Fal'korr was ever allowed to possess more than two disciples. Those who had tried and been caught had been severely punished. However, there was a loophole in the rule if one of a Guardian's disciples should meet an untimely end. In these instances, a Guardian was granted the right to take on another disciple to replace the deceased one. Thus tales of Guardians killing disciples who proved to be inadequate were not at all uncommon. Sherla lived in constant terror that she would one day become the unknown subject of such a tale. The servant girl quickly pulled herself out of her own self-pities as she rounded another corner before ducking into an old storage room. Sherla sealed the door securely behind her and quickly checked to ensure that no one else was present within the room. Once confident that she was completely alone, the young Initiate walked to the back corner and began to feel along the wall. Her practiced hand soon found the correct stone and shifted it ever so slightly. As the stone recessed into the wall it triggered the opening of a secret door whose existence was known only to select members of the Fal'korr. The opening that it created was not very large, barely more than a tunnel really, forcing Sherla to quickly crawl through on her hands and knees before the entrance resealed itself. She had often whether or not the secret entrance had a fail-safe mechanism or would simply crush her to death if she did not make it through in the prescribed time. However, considering the virtual sea of dangers in which she was adrift, it was not something that she let herself dwell on. The tunnel let out into a small, but well furnished room. It was softly lit by a scattering of candles. The plain non-descript walls were occasionally covered with tapestries; most of which depicted scenes from the Siege of Darthon. The center of the room was dominated by low built altar. Sherla quickly took her designated position, kneeling before the altar, head bowed, to await the arrival of her Guardian. During these interviews she was never allowed to lift her gaze from the ground unless given specific instructions to do so. The one time that she had violated this rule had resulted in a punishment from which it had taken her nearly a month to recover. "You're late," Sherla suppressed a quick shudder at the sound of her Guardian's voice. She had not sensed the woman's entrance and approach, as usual. The young Initiate could never divine from where the woman entered, and how long she was in the room before she finally chose to speak. Sometimes Sherla would wait in silence for as long as an hour, sometimes she would wait only a matter of seconds. "Forgive me, my Guardian," she implored earnestly. The last thing that she wanted to do was displease her from the onset of the encounter. "I have only now finished my duties within the heir's chambers." Sherla forced her eyes to remain studiously focused on the ground in front of her throughout the intervening silence. Finally her Guardian responded," You are forgiven, my disciple. Now, tell me what you have learned about the upstart." Sherla licked her lips nervously, trying to decide where to begin. She knew that her Guardian would not be pleased with the knowledge that his Gambit had not only been able to resist her psionic probe, but had also identified her as the source of the probe. However, she also knew from experience that few things aroused the woman's wrath more than not receiving the complete and utter truth from Sherla's reports. "He possesses formidable psionic defenses, my Guardian." She once again resisted the urge to look up. "He was able to resist my probe. And..." she hesitate, bracing for the blow that she was certain would come, "...he knows that I was the one who attempted to scan him." She remained tensely huddled in silence for several moments until her guardian surprised her by responding with a question instead of punishment. "And what were his actions when he discovered that it was you who had initiated the probe." Sherla felt a confused expression covering her face at the woman's inquiry, but answered as honestly as she could none-the-less. "He stared at me for a moment. I believe to let me know that he knew. Then, he simply returned to his conversation with Gladiator." "You are certain that he told no one of your intrusion," her Guardian demanded. She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Beyond giving me a silent, private warning, he did nothing. I do not believe that he will take any further actions in regards to the issue so long as I am willing to heed that warning." Once again, silence engulfed the room, leaving Sherla to wonder if today would be the day that her Guardian would finally tire of her. Fate, however, seemed to smile upon her. "See that you do not encounter him unnecessarily again, my disciple. Now go, and continue about your duties." Sherla waited a few tense moments after her dismissal before she dared to lift her head. As usual, her Guardian had already vanished leaving her to wonder if the woman had ever truly been there. The servant girl shook her head at the foolishness of the thought. Of course the woman had been there. Otherwise, Sherla would not have been trembling the way that she was. ********************************************************* "Councilor Farsahn requests an audience." Remy looked up from his current cinematic view of Capital City from the room's attached balcony at the computer's soft voice. He had been quite involved in losing himself in the flood of memories that the sights, smells and sounds of the Shi'ar home world provided for him. However, he quickly drew his mind back into the present at the computer's request. That the name sounded slightly familiar, but he couldn't quite place where it was that he had heard it before. It was a phenomenon that he was beginning to find all to common since his return to the planet of his birth. The same thing had happened to him just a few minutes ago. Gladiator had arrived with the imperial Physician, a man named Brann Chal. The doctor had been sent to perform the official genetic testing to ensure that Remy was indeed the son of Xavier and Lilandra and during the entire examination, he had grappled with a sense of deja vu. The Cajun thought about it for a minute more then shrugged when, once again, he was unable to attach a face to the this new name. "Go ahead an' send de Councilor in." The former thief took one last look at the city sprawled out beneath him before turning to enter into his quarters once again. Upon re-entering the room, he found Councilor Farsahn waiting for him and took a moment to examine her. She seemed fairly young, barely older than he was and also somewhat tall for a woman. He noticed that though her features were not unattractive, they were currently set in an imposing manner which might have been intimidating to anyone besides himself. Her eyes were dark pools, classic of the Shi'ar race, and were currently examining him with same interest as a bird might have examined a particularly interesting insect. "I can see why they decided to name you Rem'aillon." she said, abruptly breaking the silence. "Quoi?" the sudden shift in conversation had caught him off guard. She smiled at his brief moment of confusion. "Rem'aillon Neramani, the Empress's grandfather and your namesake, I would imagine. Despite the human influence, your features favor him somewhat. I'm surprised that no one else has pointed it out as of yet." Remy nodded his head slowly and kept his expression neutral not quite sure how to respond to this new information. The concept of looking like one of his Shi'ar ancestors hadn't really ever even entered into his mind. Considering the fact that he had been able to pass more than twenty-three years on Earth without anyone suspecting that he was half-Shi'ar, it had seemed more logical to him that he would bear a stronger resemblance to the human side of his family. They continued to study each other for a few more moments before her expression softened into something more friendly. "I'm sorry. Here we are, not even properly introduced, and already I am trying my best to put you on the defensive." She drew herself up briefly before settling on one knee before him in a respectful bow. "My name is Talyn Farsahn, Royal advisor of Internal affairs." The X-man stood in place for a moment before a stray memory of a lesson in royal protocol from an instructor whom he could no longer remember promoted him into action. He extended his hand to clasp hers and then drew her back to her feet. She nodded with a faint expression of approval, indicating that he had managed to get it right. "Remy LeBeau," he offered in return with a crooked smile. "Adventurer, X-man, and, most recently, son of the Empress of the Imperium." The Cajun intentionally left out the title of Master Thief, as he was certain that such a fact would not be well received. "Well," she said smiling, apparently in response to his own grin, "we have a great deal of work to do in order to prepare you for tonight." He was willing to concede that point. Even with the amount of information that he had managed to remember, read, psionically absorb, or otherwise cram into his head, there was still a great deal that he was realizing that he had not quite covered. Shi'ar fashion had merely been the tip of that articular iceberg. "First off," her tone became professional once again as she crossed the room to his wardrobe. "Do you speak and understand Shi'ar? It will go a long way in enduring you to the Noble Council if you can at least carry on a basic conversation with them." "Yes," Remy replied switching naturally into the alien tongue. "I managed to reacquire the language after I became aware of my origins." Talyn nodded in satisfaction as she turned back to his wardrobe which had opened at her command. She too switched to her native tongue as she continued. "Good, though definitely terran tinged, you even speak it with a fairly passable accent. Somewhat reminiscent of classic Northern Tassedan actually." He let his mind chew on her observation for a moment before deciding that it actually made sense. Tasseda, he remembered from what little of Shi'ar geography that he had managed to learn, was a small continent half a hemisphere away from Capital City. It's claim to fame within the Shi'ar Imperium was that the northern part of the country was home to the oldest and most prestigious linguistic and literary schools in the Imperium. And though he couldn't specifically recall any of his child-hood tutors, it stood to reason that a great majority of them would have come from that region. Talyn stood considering the selection in front of her one hand tapping gently on her lips before they broke into a sudden smile. "We should be able to capitalize on your resemblance to Rem'aillon. Most of those who remember his reign do so with fondness. It is something to work with at least." Gambit listened very closely as she went on to outline the proposed activities for the night and had to suppress a sudden urge to grin. The plan she now rehearsed for him was the almost identical to the one that he, Lilandra, and Xavier had laid out some two months ago. Apparently, Lilandra had managed to convince her advisory of the idea. Perhaps, if luck was with them, it might even work out as well as they had hoped. *************************************************************** There were definitely advantages to being the Imperial Consort to the Empress of the Shi'ar Imperium. The fact that Charles was instantly provided with the latest innovations in hover-chair technology was not among the least of these. The model that he was currently using had been waiting for him at the quarters that he shared with Lilandra. It was about thirty percent more responsive to his psionic commands, quicker and more agile, and was even sixty percent quieter than the hover-chair that he had brought with him. *Yes,* Xavier thought contentedly, while settling back in cushioned seating which had been crafted from something akin to leather, another new amenity, *being the Imperial Consort does have its distinct advantages.* *I am glad to see that the fringe benefits of the position agree with you so, my love.* Xavier had to smile at Lilandra's telepathic observation though the Empress managed to maintained a studiously somber face. *They are the driving forces that convince me to maintain my current status with you.* He shot back playfully. Her expression still hadn't changed a hair, but Xavier thought that he could see a twinkle in her eye. That twinkle quickly vanished, however, at the approach of Telra Ja'harr. As the evenings activities were formal in nature, each arriving house was required by rules of protocol to present themselves to the Empress at some point during the event. Though there was no prescribed order in which the nobles would perform this duty, a complex unwritten precedence system was often adhered. It was normally a duty that the Empress did not mind at all performing, but Charles could sense a deep-seated animosity between his love and the noble. It was an animosity that the Empress was forced to keep in careful check, as house Ja'harr, after House Neramani, was perhaps the most influential of the houses that currently possessed a seat on the Noble Council. Telra made her presentations to Lilandra swiftly and quickly returned to the milling crowd of gathered Nobles and Magistrates. Charles could feel the tangible relief coming from Lilandra at the woman's departure. Xavier had to admit that he had never quite understood Lilandra's dislike for the members of house Ja'harr. While Telra and her family never supported Lilandra's new policies, they had also never openly opposed them the way that Talm had. He decided that among other things, he would have to mention the matter to his love later tonight. In the three and a half years since his return to Earth, he had become woefully outdated on the latest happenings of Shi'ar court. The thought past, however, and soon, his mind was intent on the scene before them. Certain particular parts of the ceremonies were taking place on the balcony that had been unofficially dubbed the throne balcony. It had earned its title due to the fact that it had primarily been used as the podium from which the Empress would address the general public. This particular balcony was one of the lower ones built onto the palace, being only fifteen meters above the ground. It was partially reassessed into the building, while the rest extended out into the square and was supported by rows of intricately carved columns. The amount of area covered by the balcony was so massive that it could easily have been used to host an Imperial Ball and often was. The balcony had been specially prepared and decorated for the night's activities. In addition to the large masses of additional lights, all of which were currently dormant, Charles could see that several artifacts from the Private Neramani collection, ranging from a battered suit of ornate Armor to an old-fashioned lamp, had also been placed on display. In the very center of the balcony rested a large built-in fire bier. An excessive amount of fuel had been prepared and placed within the bier, and was waiting on the conclusion of the ceremony to be lit. Most importantly, from this balcony, one had an unobstructed view of the thronging masses, which crowed into Aldarus Square. *Your subjects seem content despite our recent revelations.* Charles observed. Lilandra had assured him that the festival was such an important event, that little short of a full war, could compete with it for attention. Tonight they would celebrate their legacy as a people. They weren't going to let a little thing such as political scandal get in the way of that. Still, she too seemed pleased and relieved by her people's present disposition. Though they had never fully admitted it during their planning, there had always been the possibility that the public's initial reaction to Remy could have been violently negative. The fact that the Shi'ar were putting the issue to the side for the moment was a favorable indicator for the future. *And the longer that they wait as whole to address the issue,* *The more time that it will give them individually to consider all aspects of it.* Charles finished the line of thought for her. He just wished that he didn't feel as if all they had managed to do was buy time. He let his eyes and mind pass briefly over the milling crowd gathered beneath them in the square. He knew that, despite the incredible size of the assembled crowd, they represented merely a fraction of those celebrating the Festival tonight in the capitol city. Most of Chandilar's citizens were grouped together in various resorts where by live holographic transmission, they would observe the official First Lighting ceremonies in historic Aldarus Square. The Square, which had been re-named after the late Emperor, Aldarus Neramani, had been the traditional location of The First Lighting ever since it had been rebuilt, five hundred years ago. An old legend claimed that, in rebuilding the square, Aldarus had ordered a stone lain for every man, woman, and child that had fallen during The War of Attrition. If the legend possessed any validity, then the death toll must have truly been staggering. The square sprawled for nearly a mile in either direction from the palace. It was roughly two and a half times the size of Red Square in Moscow. *Charles*. He felt a slight tint of awe in Lilandra's thoughts as he turned to see what it was that had attracted her attention. When his eyes found the source, he noticed that more than a few nobles were also staring with the empresses same sense of amazement. Remy had just entered onto the balcony, walking with the confident, almost cocky swagger that he normally adopted, though he somehow managed to put a hint of dignity into his stride as well. He was dressed in a pair of form fitting black breeches which disappeared into boots of the same color directly below his knees. They were complemented with a dark blue tunic, which was worn without a belt and hung halfway to his knees. Over the tunic he wore a white coat, worn open aside from a single intricate silver clasp below the collar of his tunic. The coat's sleeves flared outward at the cuffs and were complemented by a pair of dark gloves which, Charles noted wryly, had recently had the fingers removed. The outfit served to emphasize Gambit's Shi'ar features, making him appear to be even more of a noble than when he had been first introduced earlier that day. *He really does look the part.* Charles thought with a satisfied smile. Lilandra who, along with several other nobles, had been staring in amazement, suddenly came back to herself at Charles's silent message. *By the Creator, how could I have not seen it before?* She turned to look at him then, and Xavier could see a myriad of emotions flooding her eyes. I shall have to thank Talyn personally for this. My grand-father's distinct, elegant style of dress is remembered even today and none here can possibly miss the reference. The group "none" apparently excluded him. However, he refrained from any further questions as Remy was now walking towards them. As he approached his mother, Gambit dropped one knee in a formal bow. Lilandra smiled openly as she extended a hand to draw him back to his feet and into a warm embrace. Charles once again was forced to keep a twinge of jealousy in check at the seemingly effortless manner in which Lilandra was already developing a bond with him. Remy's attitude towards him since learning that he was his father had become more open and respectful, but rarely affectionate. And he still only spoke of and to Jean-Luc with any paternal references or regard. Remy soon withdrew from his mother's embrace to take his place standing by the left side of her throne. As heir, though he technically wasn't officially the Imperial Heir, part of his duties for tonight's ceremonies included acting the part of the gracious host alongside the Empress. Charles could literally feel the acute interest of every noble present on the balcony as well as the curiosity of crowd in the square below them. Only a fraction of the entire court had been present at his greeting earlier today so most were just now receiving the opportunity to observe this mysterious and controversial new heir. There was only a moment of hesitation between them before a large group slowly began to migrate towards the throne for their own presentations. For his part, Remy seemed to be doing what he did best and was at his most charming as more nobles arrived to present themselves to the Empress and her son. A gracious gesture here, a charming smile there, even an audacious wink at a few of the ladies and Xavier could practically see the opinions of several nobles, particularly the female ones, revising themselves. Charles could feel a quick surge of intoxicating hope as he continued to observe the spectacle. It appeared as if their ploy might actually be working. For the next few hours, there was little change in their activities. Nobles continued to arrive and present themselves, occasional whispers and rumors continued to fly, and the singing and celebration from the gathered Shi'ar in the square remained constant. Soon, however, Lilandra arose from her throne to indicate that the culmination of the night's events had arrived. A hushed expectant silence fell over the crowd as a procession consisting of himself, Remy, and a detachment of guards quickly formed around the Empress and began to move towards the front of the balcony. When Lilandra reached her position, a brief cheer of adoration broke from the crowd for their Empress before settling back into silence a few moments later. The Empress smiled regally at her subjects and Charles could sense the genuine feelings of love and loyalty that she held for her people. Xavier sometimes wondered if these people knew just how fortunate they were to have such a righteous ruler. "Tonight, I particularly feel the burden of my ancestors," her voice was amplified by means of a invisible device which fed transmissions to an intricate sound system had been built into the square when it had been re-constructed. "Many have spoken eloquently and profoundly on the subject that I will attempt to address. In fact, finding something new and original to say about the Festival's story is probably the most difficult task that I have assigned to my staff yet." Her statement was greeted by a slight humorous murmur from the crowd. She paused to let the noise die down before continuing. "Tonight we honor those who came before us. We honor their sacrifices, their courage, and their devotion. But, most importantly, we honor their faith." "It was that faith in the Creator's providence that allowed them to stand fast against the seemingly insurmountable onslaught of the Fal'korr. Faith that he would not abandon them that allowed our ancestors to continue fighting against impossible odds. Faith that one day their children could be raised in peace and safety without the constant threat of death and destruction. "Today, we live in an era of plenty and prosperity. We have reaped where our progenitors have sown. Not a day goes by that we do not benefit in one form or another from their sacrifices. There is no blessing in our possession for which we do not owe them a debt of gratitude." Lilandra paused dramatically before continuing. "But with these blessings comes an added responsibility. I believe my grandfather, Rem'aillon Neramani, stated it best when he said, It was the burden of our ancestors to bleed and suffer for the cause of freedom. Ours is the burden of ensuring that such principles are forever retained in the hearts of our people.'" Charles felt a quick moment of shock. He hadn't known that Lilandra had a grandfather by the name of Rem'aillon. Her earlier comments returned to his mind and with them came a sudden clarity. Apparently, her grandfather had been Remy's namesake, and even bore a passing resemblance to him. The reference to the man in her speech was a decidedly clever ploy to further integrate Remy into the Neramani line in the eyes of the public. Lilandra turned a penetrating eye to the crowd. "On this, the commemoration of the eve of one of the greatest sacrifices that our people has ever known, each one of us must look to ourselves and ask: Have we maintained the duty that was entrusted to by our fathers? Have we upheld these standards for which they so desperately fought? Have we retained a remembrance of their miraculous deliverance from the hand of their enemies? If not, then they have died and bled in vain." Lilandra placed both hands on the rail of the balcony and leaned forward to emphasize her next statement. "My people, if I can impart any portion of wisdom tonight that you may keep and ponder in your hearts, let it be this. Remember. Remember who you are. Remember the legacy that has been bestowed upon you. We are the children of light. And when the forces of darkness encroach upon us, we must combat those forces with our light, as did our fathers." Lilandra leaned back from the rail and paused for a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. "We all know the story of the Siege of D'arthon. We know how after the death of the great usurper, J'thenn, the dark warlord Kalem D'arthon gathered together those sworn to the Fal'korr and poured out death and destruction upon the world. Unprepared, and unaware of the number who had been seduced and corrupted by the Fal'korr's doctrine, the Imperium was completely unprepared to defend against the ferocity of D'arthon's onslaught." A solemn hush had fallen over the assembled Shi'ar as they remembered the stories that they had been told since their youth of the dark era when the Fal'korr practically ruled Chandilar. "I need not recount the brutality of his reign, the depravity of their actions. You have been taught since your births of the time of darkness, of how to spite the Creator himself, D'arthon ordered every lamp destroyed, every fire quenched and every source of light removed. He thus sought to cast the world into a symbolic darkness, an environment in which he and his brethren thrived." "But our ancestors would not surrender. The remaining forces of theImperium returned here, to gather there strength and prepare to retake our homes. They faced harsh circumstances. Food was limited, supplies were scarce, and an electro-magnetic strike by the Fal'korr had rendered all communications inoperable." The Empress closed her eyes briefly, apparently lost in the memory. Charles took a moment to cast a glance at Remy and was almost surprised to find that the same look of remembrance in his eyes as well. "These people were not warriors, they were not soldiers. Mostly, they were normal, ordinary individuals who were frightened, hungry, and very alone. With no means of communication, there was no way for them to know of their loved ones, of their leaders, or if their city still stood. Defeat seemed inevitable for the demoralized people." "Tonight marks the anniversary of the first lighting. The night that Aldarus Neramani stood in this very square among the ruined buildings and rallied his people with his famous words, Though we seem few, we are many. Though we seem weak, we are strong. Their weapon is fear and uncertainty. That the is the battle that we must win.' Aldarus knew, even though his people did not, that the nature of darkness could not thrive within the light. To illustrate this, he ordered every tower to be lit, every lamp to be displayed, and for the entire city to be suffused in light. He then vowed to his people that if they would remain faithful, the Fal'korr could never extinguish their lights." "D'arthon scoffed at Aldarus's words and in turn vowed that every night he would plunge a new section of the city into darkness. Thus, every night, the people would wait and watch expectantly, hoping to see all parts of their city illuminated, but fearing to see darkness." Lilandra's dramatic pause drew a tense expectant silence from the crowd, despite the fact that they all knew its happy conclusion. "For fifteen nights, D'arthon waged war on Capitol City, and for fifteen nights, the city was always illuminated by the fires of the faithful. The city never fell." The crowd instantly erupted into a roar of cheering and applause. Theirs was the celebration of a people that had hoped against hope, fought against the impossible, and won. It was a cheer that Xavier hoped to hear one day on Earth, when the mutants and humans who had bled and died for his dream finally were able to obtain their goal. It took several minutes for the crowd to calm back down. When it did, Lilandra gestured to the great bier that rested beside her. "Tonight, to honor and remember the struggles of our ancestors and show that we have not grown lax in our duties because of the ease of our task, we shall suffuse the city in light, as Aldarus Neramani did. In this we vow to keep the principles cherished by our fathers burning within our own hearts." Again the crowd roared its approval. Charles could feel their anticipation building to greater heights with each passing moment. It was now time for the actual ceremony of the first lighting. By tradition, every time that the Festival of the Lights occurred, the first fire to be lit was from the throne balcony of the Imperial palace in Aldarus square. Another part of the tradition stipulated that as Aldarus Neramani had been the first to illuminate their minds and hearts, a member of the Neramani line was always given the privilege of being the first to illuminate the city. Once the fires of great bier had been ignited, the citizens would in turn activate their own lamps. Each had come prepared, and all over the city, millions of others awaited eagerly with their lamps for the Empress to complete the first lighting. Then as tradition stipulated, the entire city would be re-illuminated every night for the entirety of the Festival. The pitch of the crowd's cheering rose again as Lilandra slowly walked back towards the bier. The excitement level had increased two fold over the past few moments. The intensity of the emotions was becoming so great that it was giving Charles a slight headache. As Lilandra reached the central bier, she once again paused and held her place. Xavier held his breath for a brief moment and prayed silently that her next ploy would be well accepted by the public. A hushed silence fell over the crowd as they all suddenly realized that their Empress had no intention of lighting the great bier herself. Instead she simply nodded to Remy, who stepped forward and retrieved a piece of the coal-like substance from the pile already waiting to be burned. The dark mineral began to glow a bright pinkish color within his hands. The intensity of the light grew until its brightness was great enough to cause some nearby nobles to shade their eyes. Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, the piece of rock was sent streaking back into the pile from which it had come. As the energized rock struck its companions, a huge explosion engulfed the contents of the bier. A ten-foot flame immediately leaped upward, causing all those whom had been near the fire-pit to back up suddenly. The force of the detonation quickly subsided, leaving a substantial blaze in its wake. The flame then began to grow larger as more of the fuel within the pit began to catch. For a brief terrifying moment, there was no response from the gathered Shi'ar. In that moment, Charles feared that Lilandra's ploy might have been too much for even the Festival intoxicated revelers to accept. The uncomfortable silence stretched on until Talyn Farsahn made the first move in activating her lamp and holding it aloft. Soon, another noble followed suit. Then a few members of the crowd also began to light their lamps as well. Apparently, that act was enough to burst the dam. Thousands of lights across Aldarus Square winked into existence simultaneously. Suddenly, the entire square was encompassed in a blanket of light, which continued to grow and spread outward. The buildings themselves had also been decorated with lights and now glowed with bright intensity. Then, the entire city came to life as lights bloomed all across the landscape. In a matter of moments, the entire city became illuminated, and the crowd broke into singing and cheering again. Charles leaned back in his chair slowly and allowed his relief to wash through him. He knew that the public hadn't really accepted Remy yet. But at least he now knew that they were willing to allow him a place within their society. What that place would be was still quite uncertain; however, it was the best reaction that he could have hoped for at this point. Charles took another look at the cheering masses before allowing his gaze to pass on to his love and son, who were currently standing side by side, and was forced to reevaluate his opinion. The sight before his eyes was more than he had ever allowed himself to hope for. *********************************************************** Magistrate Jalrus Talm resisted the urge to throw his lantern against the walls of his office as he stalked into the room. Instead, he refrained and simply placed it on the floor with a disgusted grunt and immediately began pacing the interior of his office. His mind whirled frantically desperately trying to understand how it was possible for his people to have even considered accepting that wretched half-breed into their midst. Surely they understood the threat that he posed to their Imperium. How could they not see the danger that his very existence presented to them? Finding no answers, Jalrus settled into one of the cushioned chairs arranged before his desk and silently contemplated his hands. Outside he could still here the sounds of his people singing and reveling in the liberty that had been won for them by their ancestors. Normally, the Chief Magistrate would have remained with them until the dawn had arrived. Tonight, however, he had excused himself from the festivities as soon as duty would permit. He truly believed that he would have been physically unable to stand by for even another moment and watch as the ideals he had labored for most of his life were slowly shredded. As it was, he felt rather ill from what he had observed already. Lifting his eyes from his hands, Jalrus met the framed gaze of Aldarus Neramani from where the painting hung from behind his desk. "Oh, Aldarus, would to the Creator that your descendants could have followed in you noble steps." Jalrus shook his head slowly suddenly feeling very old and tired. "First, D'Ken's blood-soaked reign, and now Lilandra seeks to undermine the very core of our Imperium. I fear that she may wish to place this half-breed on the throne after her." The simple thought was enough to make him shudder in fear and revulsion. "The Imperium could not long survive such a disaster." He had listened to the woman's lying and flattering words tonight and had heard the insidious meaning behind those words. The Empress was clever, of that fact there was no doubt. From her feigned diligence to her slick oily smile, the woman practically exuded a sense of smug confidence. Obviously, it was a trait that she had managed to pass onto that bastard son of hers. However, despite her consummate acting, he still couldn't understand how his people had allowed themselves to be seduced by the obvious lies and flowery talk. How was it that they did not denounce her for betraying the principles of their ancestors in the very moment she hypocritically spoke of preserving them? Talm clenched his teeth in frustration at the weak and foolish nature of his people. How had they so quickly forgotten the fact that they were the chosen people of the Creator? Every time in their history when they had permitted the purity of their race to be defiled by the influence of outsiders, it had resulted in tragedy. Outsiders perverted their race, seduced the children of the Shi'ar with their strange cultures and religions, thus weakening his people from the inside. How could his people not understand that in order to survive the fury of the outside forces constantly unleashed upon them, they first needed to ensure that they were purified such defiling influences? The Chief Magistrate continued to stare earnestly at the face of the ancient emperor waiting for a response but knowing that he would receive none. As is an often occurrence with any Magistrate, Talm felt very alone. During his time as a Magistrate, he had seen all manner of depravity and evil. He had felt pain at much of the judgement that he had been forced to pass. He had experienced sorrow in his position as he had been forced to come face to face with the broken destroyed victims for whom his judgement of their aggressors had been too late. He had watched a darkness, whose source he could not identify, take root and grow continually among his people for the past three generations. Anguished as the darkness had spread unchecked like a violent sickness though the body of an oblivious patient. He had tried, the Creator knew how he had tried, to warn the patient of the impending danger. Along the way he had even found allies who aided him in his task and had risen to a position in which he had felt he could make a difference. Yet, despite his accomplishments and continued persistence, the patient ignored his cries and he could only watch in profound sorrow as the sickness continued to ravage his body. With a sigh, Jalrus pulled himself from his own dark contemplation and allowed his eyes to travel to his desk. His sight immediately settled upon a strange data-file that had not been there previously. Intrigued, he slowly walked over to his desk to retrieve the small hand-held file. He wondered where it could have come from. Did one of his staff leave it in his office for him earlier, and he had simply not seen it? A brief examination of the exterior revealed nothing of its origins to the Chief Magistrate. His curiosity mounting, he pressed the activation button and the display screen immediately lit up. The words "Subject: Remy LeBeau," were now prominently displayed on its surface. Talm's first instinct was to simply throw the data-file in his incinerator and be done with it. The data-file was most likely more of the Empress's propaganda for her son. However, that same curiosity prompted him to open the file first and he began to idly page through its contents. Within no time, the file held his rapt attention. Talm felt the blood freeze in his veins as he continued to read. Suddenly obsessed with thoroughly reviewing the mysterious file and it's questionable though he felt perfectly likely data considering the youth's parentage, he stayed in his office until well past sunrise. End Part 4