By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.
HONOUR OF A HERETIC
THE IRIS TRILOGY BOOK I
PROLOGUE
Holy City of High Charity
9th Age of Reclamation
Council Chambers
I looked out over the city of High Charity. A convoy of Banshees passed by, their loud wailing and screeching could be heard from the other side of the city because of their large numbers today. Heading to the Trial of the Heretic.
It was only recently that the Covenant had discovered one of the Sacred Rings, the catalyst needed to begin the Great Journey. The Ring was discovered when the Seeker of Truth flagship caught one of the Human vessels fleeing the colony of Reach, leading their foes into unknown space where the Ring resided.
I am a Sangheili holding the rank of Councillor, a rank I'd earned through many negotiations within the Covenant. More often than not, they tended to end up as 'aggressive negotiations'.
We Sangheili stand about three-metres tall, usually wearing embellished and illuminated armour. The armour of a Councillor was pure pearlescent white; the headdress was an ornate add-on to the regular helmet with triangular angled plates jutting out the edge and top.
The Sangheili had always been the military leaders of the Covenant which began with a great war between two of the Covenant species. Our arms are long and come to an end with four ambidextrous and tapered fingers, capable of wrapping tight round deadly Covenant weaponry with deft ease.
Sangheili heads are flat, with two pairs of mandibles covering the guttural vocal passages. We are told to have keen yet hollow eyes, resembling that of a shark's. This comparison didn't end here, as it was clear the Sangheili have been evolving for millions of years leading us to the path of predatory superiority on our glorious home planet, Sangheilios.
I was unnoticeably different though, whilst the lineage of 'Verohmee had the poor reputation of bloodlust and anger, often heralding their honour a little too seriously, I chose the different path. I prefer to settle matters through more talk than action. Though don't start to think I don't have a bad side too...
*
I began to make my way over to a gravity funnel that would lead me to the Council Chambers, stepping onto the circular flashing panel I felt as if an invisible arm had snatched me and thrust my limp body into the air. There was a sudden rushing sensation; the world was spinning through a magnificent circulating funnel until it stopped as soon as it had started.
An Honour Guard came to greet me, but he saw I was having a bit too much fun, so he hauled me to my feet.
Honour Guards are the protectors of the San 'Shyuum better known as Prophets. They are usually clad in crimson and gold armour, carrying large energy staffs and they almost never say a word. Some speculate that the whispers around the Council Chambers get inside their head and they feel no urge to speak, but anyone else will say that their lack of speech comes from the deep honour and pride they hold.
"You're making a disgrace of yourself under the eye of our Lords, 'Verohmee," the Honour guard hissed. I hung my head, prompting a look of satisfaction on his face.
I made my way across the bridge in silence, hearing the many cries and jeering coming from inside the Council Chambers.
The doors snapped open and my heart sank as I got a very 'all eyes on me' feeling.
"Councillor 'Verohmee," the hologram of the Hierarch Regret said coldly. "We were beginning to think you wouldn't come."
"Take your seat!" The elderly Prophet of Mercy croaked in annoyance.
"My apologies, Hierarchs," I sighed. This wasn't my day... "I have no excuse..."
I climbed into the stands and took a seat next to a Sangheili Spec-Ops Commander, an annoyed and frustrated look on his face, clearly wishing to be elsewhere.
"Brother Rtas?" I said. Rtas nodded his head slightly, his mandibles flexed and his eyes wouldn't meet mine.
I looked around the Chamber, noticing the Chieftain of the Jiralhanae, Tartarus. The true bane of the Sangheili. The cries suddenly stopped as Mercy ordered complete silence.
"Bring forth the Heretic," he ordered.
Two Jiralhanae walked in; slightly ahead of them was the Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice. Thel 'Vadamee. My eyes snapped as I saw the condition he was in, his face was pale and he looked as if he'd been starved.
*
The questions went on for hours, unit after unit, the Prophets hurled questions like stones at the Supreme Commander. Rtas still seemed to be on the edge of his seat, other Councillors were on the verge of falling asleep, Tartarus still remained standing however with a distinct scowl on his face.
"There was only one ship," Thel replied to Regret.
"One? Are you sure?" A cold voice seemed to come from nowhere, the third Hierarch bathing in the darkness, clouded from my vision. His voice sent ripples of fear down my spine.
"Yes, they called it Pillar of Autumn," Thel began to flash back to the events of Reach. A single Human vessel had broken through the Covenant's lines as they Glassed the planet.
"Why was it not destroyed with the rest of their fleet?" Mercy barked accusingly at the Supreme Commander.
"They fled when we set fire to their planet... But I followed with all the ships in my command," Thel stated proudly.
There was a distinct amount of murmuring about the chamber; the lesser Prophets seemed to have formed large groups, chattering about things like 'heresy' and 'should face death for such crimes'.
Tartarus began to let out a dark chuckle; he was leaning on his ceremonial Gravity Hammer, the Fist of Rukt, a weapon passed down from every Chieftain of the Jiralhanae.
"When you first saw Halo, were you blinded by its majesty?" Regret hissed.
"Blinded?" Thel repeated.
"Paralysed? Dumbstruck?" The Prophet goaded.
"No!"
"Yet the humans were able to evade your ships, land on the Sacred Ring and desecrate it with their filthy footsteps," he pointed an accusing finger at the shamed Sangheili.
"Noble Hierarchs, surely you understand that once the Parasite attacked -" Thel was cut off by the increased roaring of the crowd.
"There will be order in this Council!" Mercy slammed his fist on the arm of his Gravity Throne, prompting complete silence from the crowd as a third figure emerged from the darkness.
"You were right to focus your attention on the Flood. But this Demon. This Master Chief..." Came the voice of the leader of the three Hierarchs, the Prophet of Truth.
"By the time I learned the Demon's intent... There was nothing I could do!" Thel insisted, his thoughts flashing back to him observing the destruction of the Ring.
The Prophet Councillors were on their feet, waving their fists in the air and shouting insults whilst the Sangheili remained in their seats muttering to each other.
"Noble Prophet of Truth, this has gone on long enough. Make an example of this bungler. The Council demands it!" Regret whispered into Truth's ear.
Once more, Truth held his three-fingered hand in the air and the room fell silent again.
"You are one of our most treasured instruments, long have you lead your fleet with honour and distinction. But your inability to safeguard Halo... Was a colossal failure."
"Nay, it was heresy!" Shouted the lesser prophet of Objection. He was on his feet and prompted the room to begin chattering again; arguments began to break out, Mercy observed the Councillors with a bored look on his face.
"I will continue my campaign against the humans!" Thel spoke over the noise of the crowd.
"No! You will not," Truth concluded. Truth glanced at Tartarus, who barked a command to the two Brute escorts. The last I saw in the chamber was Thel 'Vadamee being lead away by two vile beasts who tried to grab his arms, the disgraced Commander shook them off and made his own way down the walkway to a fate worse than death, as Truth sat back and relaxed, but he wasn't finished yet.
"Soon the Great Journey will begin. But when it does, the weight of your heresy will stay your feet... And you shall be left behind."