His name was Mosus Duplantaine. He was a fat man with rosy cheeks. He smiled a lot. But then ambassadors are predisposed to do that given the nature of their position. He stood in the throne room before the large chair upon which sat a tired-looking Allor.
“My Lord,” began the chubby man. “I bring you a message from The Highest Unconsciousness, Hundil, High Priest of the Cult of Niddler. It is a message of joy, a message of love, a message of the highest importance.”
Canto looked at Allor with a look of boredom at the wordiness of the ambassador. Both brother and sister were still grieving. This makes a person less tolerant of windbags.
“We wish to congratulate Lord Allor for the defeat of evil. The destruction of the Cult of Ceros is a moment that will be remembered. A moment remembered as when people were freed from their bondage, the slaves taken by masters and the slaves taken by belief. It is a moment that should be marked by celebration rituals and a holiday across the land.”
Canto looked at Allor and made the motion with her hands for Mosus to hurry up. Allor shook his head in response.
“We learned of the destruction of Pyramos from the first refugees and sent riders to confirm its demise. And from our reports we learned that Allor has powers we never knew about. Deadly powers. And this must be considered carefully by those that stand between My Lord and his goal.”
“So we asked ourselves, how can we assist Lord Allor in his quest?”
“And what answer did you finally arrive at?” asked Canto as she tapped her fingers against the arm of her chair.
“We most humbly ask and do sincerely request that the Cult of Niddler be allowed to disband peacefully and its members become integrated into the Cult of Allor, where given time and conversion training, they can become fully recognized members of your flock, His Own.”
“This is a good start,” said Allor with the slightest smile to the ambassador.
“We only ask two minor indulgences, My Lord Allor.”
“Be careful,” said Canto. She stood and drew her sword. “You may become part of my collection, so choose your words carefully.”
“Understood, Princess Canto. Understood. Our indulgences are minor. First we ask that forgiveness be given for the next one hundred revs to those that still try to reach higher unconsciousness.”
“Do you mean the breath-holders?” asked Canto.
“Yes, Princess,” Ambassador Duplantaine replied.
Allor burst out laughing. He laughed hard and held up his hand after a few tix. Finally he regained his composure. He realized the moment as perhaps his first step towards healing.
“Dear Sir, your people can hold their breath as long as they like. As long as it does not include the worship of any god, then it is not a concern of mine. It is just a silly thing that silly people do. That’s all. Consider this matter closed. I hope that over time the former followers of the Cult of Niddler will realize the illogic of their actions. But if they don’t, it doesn’t matter. Now tell me, what is the other indulgence?”
“My Lord Allor, Hundil, the former high priest of the former Cult of Niddler, would like to hold a banquet in your honor. He wants to share all of the details of the former Cult of Niddler with you so that your assimilation of their flock will be smoother. During this feast, Hundil will make his case that you are best served with him alive. However, if at the end of the banquet you are not convinced, then he will submit to your sword.”
“Sounds reasonable,” said Allor. “Pens is not here to object,” he added with a chuckle.