I
Where The Bull’s arrival had thinned the veil between The Old World and Daedos, through it fell the First of Man. The gods of the old world had abandoned them, condemning them to this hell, for their lives were tainted with the impurity of sin. Following the First of Kings, they traveled deep into the depths of Daedos, till paradise was found—where new gods awaited.
They showed themselves as blinding figures of hope and light. We kneeled, we prayed, we grovelled, and we begged. Throughout the ages, one god stood out from the rest: persistent, vigilant, and all-seeing. We called him Tlamelahuacachinaliztli, He of The Burning Gaze. The Judge, Jury, and Executioner—Justice taken form. His word was law, and we followed it without hesitation, for to question his word was to bring upon his judgement.
II
Afternoon of the Fifty-second Day of Autumn, Fifth Year of Psi.
The month of Argiōn had arrived, the last month before the Thelò. People scurried through the streets of Hoofstad, dashing through markets in search of barter and good trade for resources to help them last the rude winter. In the caves, miners dug endlessly for firesalt to keep the city warm through the biting cold, and above in the fields—the last of the harvest was being collected.
Yet despite this, the devotion of the people still lay with His Divine Justice. On the steps of the temples, the elderly watched over the city to ensure justice prevails across the city—like crows waiting for food. In the markets, scales hung like lanterns—representing the principum aequum; for greed was the greatest sin of all in the preparation for scarcity. The women taught the children the basic law, for one must know from a young age to uphold it—and the consequences of transgression.
Inside the monolithic stone walls of The Sanctum of Libra, the sounds of the bustling city below were hushed to that of a terrified, suffocating whisper. Engraved on the walls of the sanctum were The First Laws—the constitution drafted by Argos himself in the days of The Creation Myth. The domed ceiling above stretched up into the sky, as if commanding the heavens above to abide by his will, and under it—hundreds of citizens kneeled and prayed before a towering obsidian statue of Argos, the cold stone floor biting at their legs as the eyes of the statue glowed like a quiet, watchful ember.
From behind the statue, out stepped three priests onto the altar—draped in dark blue silk robes that dragged with the weight of sin across the stone floor, and a blindfold covering their eyes; for they trust that justice shall guide them. In their hands, they wielded the cold instruments of their god: brass scales to weigh the sins of man, and gleaming spears of iron to prosecute those beyond redemption. Moving through the rows of kneeling worshippers, was a majestic beast of legend—guided by a shepherd. Its golden horns gleamed with divine brilliance in the candlelight, its eyes deep blue like the colors of Justice, and its fleece as white as the winter snow. Golden feathered wings fluttered on its back, and trotting forward—its hooves made no sound against the biting stone floor. Truly, a vessel of purity—headed for the unyielding spear of the executioner.
As the beast continued to stride forward onto the altar, the voices of worshippers resonated in unison across the temple as a low, reverberant drone.
“O Tlamelahuacachinaliztli, He of The Burning Gaze,
We stand before the court, beneath the eyes that do not sleep.
Keeper of Order, weigh our sins on the iron scale,
Allow us repentance, and set us free.
Bearer of True Sight, keep watch over us,
Grant us the warmth of your Justice through the rude winter.
The Judge, blind your wrath to our desperate sins.
The Jury, your word is law, and we follow without question.
The Executioner, accept this tribute, and let your spear pass over us.”
With each word, the eyes of the statue seemed to glow brighter, its eyes now shining with a brilliant orange light. Throughout the prayer, no single worshiper dared to look up, for to look upon the statue was to commit the sin of blasphemy—one does not look at an all-seeing god and invite them to gaze upon you.
As the final echoes of the prayer vanished into the air, the three blindfolded priests moved in unseeing unison towards the beast. Two priests flanked the beast, holding their brass scales high in the air—the metal chains holding the plates clinking off of one another. The high priest stepped forward. Raising his spear he declared “Let Justice guide us all”, and he drove down the spear, aiming for the beast’s heart with the unyielding faith in his lord’s silent judgement.
But the spear never found its mark.
Instead of the wet sound of tearing flesh, instead of the splatter of blood and gore, there came a resonant clang that boomed throughout the temple and into the streets of Hoofstad. The high priest gasped in shock and recoiled as his spear was forced out of his hands and flew upwards into the air, snapping in two like a twig against stone. In the place where the beast was standing, a figure of stark, impartial white and blue towered over the high priest—the god of Justice himself, The Judge of Sinners, Argos.
Phantom impressions of a thousand unblinking eyes hovered around him and blazed with the cold, brilliant fury of the absolute law—his piercing gaze judging the sins of those in the temple. In his right hand, he held the first image of Libra—a grand scale forged from the very concept of Justice that weighed past, present and future. On his left, he held out his spear of glowing starmetal—humming with power and crackling with energy.
The three priests on the altar fell on their knees as their dark blue robes and blindfolds burnt to ash in the presence of a god. The high priest, hands still stinging from the shattered spear groveled at the feet of his lord. Below them, the rows of worshippers froze in paralyzing fear—they did not dare move in the case that it would incite the wrath of The Executioner.
“Mercy, Lord Tlamelahuacachinaliztli!” the high priest choked out, his voice and appearance now stripped of its previous grandeur and luster as tears and beads of sweat streamed down his face. “We offered a beast of perfection! A vessel of purity to balance out your scales! A sacrifice to show our faith in you, in justice!” he cried, but the words fell on the ears unwavering judgement.
“You speak of mercy,” Argos boomed, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. “Yet I find that you yourself are incapable of this. You speak of purity, and yet you planned to stain these holy walls with the blood of the innocent.” Seventy-four of his eyes narrowed in concert, judging the sins of the altar. “You bring a creature of my creation to my altar, and call it tribute. You blind yourself to the truth, and call it faith.”
The scale in Argos’ hand tipped. “The sins of the altar have been weighed. The court finds it guilty of blasphemy. The penalty is death.”
The Executor of The Final Law raised his glowing spear of starlight into the domed ceiling above, and brought the butt of the spear down onto the stone floor. In an instant, the three kneeling priests calcified into cold, rigid stone. Their cries of terror locked in their throat, as their frozen eyes stared up into The Eyes of Argos.
Argos turned his blinding, hundred-eyed gaze upon the hundreds of worshippers groveling on the floor, and he brought forth a final, chilling decree that would echo out of the sanctum and across Daedos. “It is done. Let the scales balance once more upon the bones of the unfaithful. Let all of Daedos look upon this altar and know—blind faith will not save you from the god who sees all. Return to your fields. Return to your homes, and pray that your faith is pure—lest you wish to face the wrath of The Executioner.”
The Spear of Judgement flared with the glory of a supernova, as the burning image of the three calcified priests was seared into the minds of everyone present. The Judge of Sinners disappeared in a murder of crows, which dissipated to reveal nothing but the terrified worshippers in the temple still kneeling on the stone floor, heeding the silent, unyielding warnings of their god.