Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

that makes the Empire possible."
    "We chose to do this work," said the robot. "We still have a lot of guilt to work off. Another concept we learned from Diana Vertue. Guilt, over the horror and slaughter we brought to Humanity, before we learned the truth. The great truth. That all that lives is holy."
    "Old hurts and guilts belong in the past," Finn said firmly. "You can't progress forward when you're always looking back over your shoulder. But the King can't help you. He can't make decisions like that.
    You must talk to Parliament, demand access to the Maze. It is your right."
    "We have tried. They don't listen to us. They're still afraid of us. They're afraid of the Maze too; of the great changes it could bring, to them and us. We could all shine like stars. The Deathstalker said that."
    "You need someone to speak your cause to Parliament. Someone they'd listen to. Someone they'd have to listen to. I expect to be a person of power and influence soon. I could represent you, in return for ...
    rewards to be decided later."
    The robot turned its gleaming blue head to look at Finn directly for the first time. "Yes. We should talk about this, later."
    "Yes," said Finn. "We should."
    Meanwhile, back down the line, Lewis Deathstalker had been joined by Jesamine Flowers. Everyone was doing their best to give them plenty of room. Partly because Jesamine asked them to, with her devastating smile, and partly because no one wanted to annoy the Deathstalker, who, it had to be said, was looking decidedly jumpy. Jesamine looked over at the stained-glass windows, and heaved a sigh that did very flattering things for her half-exposed bosom.
    "One day, Lewis, I'll be up there. A stained-glass icon, in my own right. Just like your ancestor."
    "You're not actually a legend, Jes," said Lewis.
    "Only a matter of time, darling," said Jesamine. "Only a matter of time".
    "Were going to have to do something about this modesty problem of yours," said Lewis.
    They were still chatting together, to the intense jealousy of everyone around them, when there was a rousing fanfare from the orchestra, and King William appeared suddenly on the raised dais, looking very regal in his Kingly gown. The Crown looked too large for his head, but then, Crowns usually do. The orchestra played the Imperial Anthem, and everyone sang along lustily, while holographic fireworks went off all over the place. The sound and the colors and the impact were almost overwhelming, as they were designed to be. When the Anthem crashed to its close, everyone cheered and applauded, knowing they were a part of history in the making. Prince Douglas, a Paragon no longer, moved forward to stand beside his father the King, clad at last in his regal robes. He held himself well, looking every inch the King-to-be.
    King William began his farewell speech. It was a good speech, everyone agreed later, the best Anne had ever written, and William gave it everything he had. His gaze was stern, and his voice rolled out heavy with majesty. It was ironic, that he looked and sounded the part more now, on the day of his resignation, than he ever had before. Some were weeping openly in the crowd, at what they were losing; at the passing of a person and a time, now gone forever. Whatever else was to happen, things would never be the same again.
    There was nothing controversial in the speech, except perhaps towards the end. William took off his Crown, with his own two hands, and looked down at it in silence for a long moment. The crowd was hushed. William looked out over them, his face finally tired and perhaps a little grim.
    "I have presided over a Golden Age," he said, and everyone hung on his words. "And I have had the good sense to know that nothing much was needed from me, except to be a caretaker. To preserve what
    my father handed down to me. To bear the Crown with dignity, to do my duty and care for my people, and not to interfere. Because I have always known that Golden Ages don't last forever. That in the end, if they are to persevere, they must be fought for. That was why I insisted my son be allowed to train as a Paragon. To root him in the real world, before he came to the Throne. The King who replaces me will know what it is to fight evil. It is my most profound hope that this Empire will not need a warrior King.
    But should such a person be needed to preserve the Empire in its time of need, I have done everything in my power to ensure that this Empire will have the King and Protector