A Throne Built On Lies

The Lie of His Death.

Caelion didn’t ignore the message. He read it once. Then again.

“You’re getting too close to the edge..moonlight boy.”

He dropped the scroll down.

“Who sent this?” Caelion asked.

No answer came. The shadows were motionless. The spirits of the underworld were not presented. There was something which that silence told him. Whoever was the sender was not bound to this realm.

Caelion set his face somewhat harder. “Then you’re somewhere above.”

He sealed up the scroll. Squeezed it with his hand.

It melted away to nothing.

“Good,” he muttered. “That makes this easier.”

The following time he entered the heavenly kingdom, he did not waste time. Lioren Thale was a purposeful walker. No hesitation. No wandering.

Straight to the archive sector. Having someone watching him, he already knew that he was digging. It was no use denying it.

The halls of the archives were noisier than the rest of the palace. Fewer messengers. More restrictions. There were two guards in front of the main record chamber.

It was one of them, who advanced toward Caelion. “Purpose?”

Caelion didn’t slow. “Council edict. Retrieval of records.”

The guard frowned. “Authorization?”

Caelion took in a blank scroll. The guard glanced a moment, and looked again at him. A pause. And so he withdrew. “Make it quick.”

Caelion nodded once. “Understood.”

He walked in. The bedroom was covered with piled up records. Floating scripts. Sealed archives. Everything categorized. Everything controlled. Caelion went straight to the death books. The name of him leapt to mind.

Too easily. That in itself was a bother.

He drew the file to him.

Opened it.

Read. His expression didn’t change. But his hold became a little tighter.

Cause of death, Caelion read to himself. “Natural divine deterioration.”

He gave a sigh.

“That’s the lie,” he said.

He turned the others over. Clean. Too clean. No reference to the curse. No reference to Seris. No talk of hanging. Nothing but a good, steady story. As though nothing had gone amiss. Caelion shut the file half. Then stopped.

“This is cut up, “he said.

The organization was not right.

Subtle. But wrong. He rubbed his fingers on the record. Focused. The shadows within him roused themselves. Quiet. Controlled.

Demonstrate, Caelion said.

The record reacted. Not openly.

But slightly. There was a veiled layer that moved.

He saw it. Fragments. Erased lines. Rewritten sections.

“Naturally, “he said to himself.

He leaned closer.

“Let’s try again.”

He put more strength into it. The illusion was broken still further. Words flickered. Changed. Corrected. And there…

Another entry was made.

Death cause: Death by divine command.

Caelion’s eyes narrowed.

“Better, “he said .

He kept reading. Performed by: Seris Alune. No hesitation. No uncertainty. Just fact. Caelion didn’t react outwardly.

He already knew.

But to read it made me think...Confirmed.

Official. That was different.

He flipped further. More hidden lines surfaced.

Authorization: Eryndor Vale.

Caelion exhaled slowly.

“You did not even go so far as to hide it, “he said.

He straightened slightly.

“That is no mercy or containment,” he said to himself. “That’s control.”

He relocated to a different part. Cross-referencing. Checking linked records. All that relates to his death

The trend was evident. Altered entries.

Adjusted timelines. Controlled information.

“They didn’t just kill me,” Caelion said quietly. “They rewrote it.”

There was a slight movement of something behind him, which caused him to stop. He didn’t turn immediately.

LThere is limited access to archives.” Said a voice was in the doorway. Caelion turned. Lysithea Vorn was there.

Watching him. She was calm in her expression. But her eyes were keen. Caelion didn’t panic. Didn’t step back. Didn’t react too quickly.

“I had been put on retrieval,” he said.

Lysithea threw back her head. “For which record?”

Caelion replied instantly. “Death classification review.”

Lysithea gazed a little longer at him. Then walked in.

Slowly.

Her eyes were turned on the open file. Then back to him.

“That book is closed, “Lysithea said.

Caelion nodded once. “It was.”

Lysithea hesitated a couple of steps in front of him.

“You have no right to break its seal, you see, “said she.

Caelion looked up at her. “Only did what I was told to.”

A pause. Lysithea didn’t respond immediately. She looked at him. Not only on his face. At him. Evaluating. Caelion caudled her eyes. Didn’t break. Didn’t rush. Finally, Lysithea spoke.

“Leave , direct orders.”she said.

Caelion didn’t argue.

He closed it. Set it back. Then stepped away. Lysithea kept an eye on him.

Passing her, she said again.

“You’re new.”

Caelion stopped briefly. “Yes.”

Lysithea did not change her voice. “Be aware of what you visit.”

Caelion nodded once. “Understood.”

Then he walked out. He didn’t go far. Only right here around the corner. Out of direct view. Then he stopped. Exhaled.

“Close as that,” he said to himself.

Caelion leaned a little against the wall.

“Possession, leading to containment,” he said. “That is what they all said. They said to me I was possessed.”

His mouth drew in.

“And they called it mercy.”

He straightened again.

“No,” he said. “That’s not enough.”

Hours later, once he was sure Lysithea had left,he swiveled and turned towards the entrance of the archive.

“And since they had rewritten one record, they must have rewrote other records.”

He walked back in. Faster this time. More direct. He passed the records of death. Deeper. Into restricted sections.

The ones which were not to be reached.

“Here you conceal it,” said he.

He searched through the floating files. Hundreds. Thousands.

Then….

Something stood out. A sealed record. Different marking. Not standard. Buried deeper than the others. Caelion walked slowly towards it.

“What the hell are you?” he said to himself.

He reached out. The seal resisted. For a second. Then broke. The file opened. One line appeared. Clear. Undeniable.

Ascension Candidate: Caelion Vireth.