Many Faced Bard — Roleplayer Guild

To say he was distraught at his father's passing was an overstatement. Saddened perhaps, but not distraught. 

The Chamber of Elders was filled as he presided over it. Nero didn't slouch, but he did rest his chin on his hand, wasting time listening to older men and women bicker about the funeral proceedings, the antithesis of what was taught to the imperial young. Even he had to go through the Alpharium Induction: the coming of age rite for all Alpharium whom desired to be more than what the laborers aspired to. To gain status - to be someone - passing the rite was the way to do so. Not many succeeded, not many survived. 

He was thankful to the late emperor though. Although distant that they were, his father taught him the complexity of thought required than wielding the arbiter's sword. To be emperor, you need not only a heavy hand but words that cut yet mollified. Dictatorial powers afforded power that was unbecoming to one who guided like an inept fool. Yet, Nero wasn't so presumptuous as to bestow upon himself the epithet of a wise emperor. It was far too soon, for it was only recent when his Accession Rite to Ascended Throne.

A movement at the corner of his view. Nero looked up and saw Kallo: his servant since he was a youth. Kallo gestured to his wrist, which brought Nero a rush of relief. 

He stood up, and all noise came to an abrupt stop. "Honorable elders," he said. His voice boomed throughout the chamber, years of practice of oration. "We shall conclude state matters for now. In these dimmed times, I, Emperor Nero Draderum Alpharius, laud your commitment to duty. To the Imperium. I expect to see you all at the funeral."

Nero stepped away from his chair after the elders acquiesced to his unvoiced decree. They would not dare not appear.

When they were in the hall, Nero set a brisk pace. Kallo and the Ascended Guardians followed him.

"Emperor, the delegates from Altheria and the Free States have arrived," Kallo said. "I've taken the liberty to arrange your transportation to the Hall of Emperors. It seems we may skip the attire; the Emperor looks well suited for such a solemn, state affair."

"Have we taken precautions for our xeno visitors?"

Nero could hear the sneer manifested through Kallo's speech. "Adequate, of course, Emperor."

Kallo nearly yelped from the sudden stop. The heavy footfalls of the sentinels shifted moments then came to a still. Nero turned about, and the servant looked down. "Save your prejudice for another time. I will not have the guests harmed during the entombment of my father," he said. "I asked you to be my liaison. Do you swear before me that you fulfilled the task, to the fullest extent I described, you were given?"

"Yes, Emperor. The Home Marshal, and I labored about security until it was near perfect. I beg the Emperor forgive my nonchalance." 

Nero spun back around and continued walking. "Let your actions earn your forgiveness."

Nero stepped out of the transport shuttle. Soldiers lined the stairs that led up to the hall where previous emperor's now rested. The standard of the Imperial legions present - and the standard Alpharium - stood stalwart, as if they took stood vigil over the passing of the late Emperor. It was a grand affair, but it was an important one. The passing rites were as much for respect as they were symbolic. It was to preserve the sanctity of the Ascended Throne to the subjects that were led under Alpharium rule. 

Entering the foyer that preceded the Hall of Emperors, delegates that had already arrived all turned and bowed to him. Nero nodded back to them and started to moving about the room. Proper decorum mixed in with who respected the Imperials enough to send delegates. It was all state craft. 

He would remember those who journeyed to the Alpharium homeworld despite eschewing imperial rule - either with the olive branch or the dog of war, and he would remember those who did not come at all.
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