The one man bearing a blade leads the group, irrelevant of whether he is actually making the decisions or not. If he permits one the role of decision-maker, then the sole authority of ensuring that decisions are still carried out remains in the bladebearer’s hands.

It does not matter if a decision maker is overthrown as long as the blade does not change hands. At the end of the day, all authority submits to the implicit permission granted by the bladebearers. There are ways around this of course, mortals try to tie the hierarch of the bladebearers to some great authority or to some inanimate object that can simply never be replaced by a human. Magnets of loyalty exist utterly stagnant, unthinking and anti-partisanal in order to make that the magnets of loyalty never decide to seize power.

Yet ultimately, no matter how systems are set up, the bladebearers remain the weak point. It does not matter how ingrainted loyalty is to some system or to some artefact. Loyalty is merely a chain connecting two objects, even loyalty to nothing pulls nothing away from its true meaning and into definition. If one wishes to disagree with me here, then I would need an example of loyalty which belongs to a definitionless object.

Thus it is simple. All that is required to seize a state or a nation is not to replace its systems or to become its decision makers in some archaic fashion. The simplest and most direct way is to subsume the loyalty of its bladebearers and simply rip the decision makers the right to exist.

- Excerpt from ‘A Book About a Goddess and an Idea’, written by Goddess Malam, of Hatred.

No speeches. No information shared. No reasons explained. Only the most barebone of orders were to be issued. There were five people who knew what was happening and only two of them would actually attend the operation. Chief Officer Lloyd, Head of Allia’s Constabulary, Aliana, Goddess of Allia. The Goddess stood in a uniform given to her by Malam. She made one final glance at her own body to make sure everything was still affixed in place.

Aliana was clad in silk and gold. That was the only way she could describe the concoction of cloth and metal around herself. A golden chest-plate not at all fit for combat but rather designed solely for vanity hugged her waist. The shoulder of her sword arm was exposed, the other was hidden by red silk that made her flowing locks of burning orange stand out. A dress fell down to her ankles and over that dress was an armoured skirt of gold. Even her sword had been replaced. She would never take the blade into combat, it was too long and too thin to be of much use in real battle. At first, the armour had made her uncomfortable. It was so gaudy that she felt like a scam. She was out here not selling a dream but a parody of Divinity.

But then she saw the soldiers look up at her in awe and she knew that the only reason she called it a parody was because her day-to-day was nowhere near as glorious as what Malam’s style had made it out to be. It didn’t need to carry any message on it, the uniform simply exclaimed to the mortals that they were in the presence of a Divine. Maybe other gods and goddesses would not see it that, but when Aliana heard Richard’s maid talked about wanting to be a pretty princess, then this must be the equivalent for Divinity.

Aliana kicked open the gate to Richard’s estate and raised her blade. “Team One! Follow Me! Everyone else, follow you orders! Detain anyone that moves!” That was all that needed to be said. The teams had been given their orders quietly by Lloyd, the man himself was sitting in one of the massive armour vans that had been brought here.

Aliana took the first step, the second, the third. Behind her came the army she had brought. It was a silent horde. It had been purposefully designed that way, not one of the knew any of the others. Not one of the men actually knew what they were here to do either. Not one between them was of any important rank either. Malam had crafted out a list of names, all of whom were privates and all of whom served in Lubska under Aliana. The Goddess herself didn’t recognise any of the faces, she had been far too much during the Epan War to actually may attention to individual men, but she knew that they recognised her. It was obvious from the reactions and the way their faces lit up when her eyes passed over them.

Aliana kept up the pace. The garden was crossed quickly. And Aliana saw two guards stood outside the stairs to Richard’s mansion. Two men in flamboyant red uniforms and swords rather than guns. They saw Aliana and they froze. “Arrest them!” The Goddess shouted. Two teams of a dozen men each ran forwards, each one half police ready with cuffs and half soldiers primed with rifles. Aliana held her breath as she kept on repeating Malam’s instructions in her mind: Don’t slow down. Don’t think about anything. Just keep on moving. Act confident. Act like you’re certain in yourself. Act like everything is under control. Act like everything is normal.

And Aliana’s heart stopped for a moment as she saw one of the guards think about raising resistance. She took a step forward. He drew his sword. She took a step forward. Two soldiers raised their rifles. And she took a step forward. And the blade fell onto the ground. She took a step forward. It clattered and bounced as a policeman ran around the guard and handcuffed the man. Aliana climbed the steps to the front door of Richard’s estate. That was another thing that Malam had planned. There was no way for the men to lie to themselves and pretend they were doing anything but what they were actually doing if they entered through the grand wooden door at the front.

Aliana kicked the heavy oak open, just as she kicked the gate.

And so they stormed through Richard’s estate. Aliana at the head of the convoy, behind her the team of soldiers that had been elected to go with her. Twenty men. Malam had said the more the merrier, and the more the less there was a chance for any individual to think it was his responsibility to stand up against what was happening. Aliana walked, her boots slammed into carpeted steps as soldiers and Lloyd’s police officers raced about the building.

The invaders into the estate scoured the premises like a flame. Soldiers in dark uniforms kicked open doors, rifles held at the ready and pointed them at servant or maid or politician or butler or guest. People quivered and stood up straight or froze in shock, but there was little one could do but cry and follow orders the end of a barrel being aimed at them. Blue-uniformed police ran in, batons in one hand and handcuffs in the other as they quickly bound anyone and everyone there was to bind.

The few souls that tried to run away were quickly chased down. Servants could be fast, but they were not faster than men who chased other men for a living. Several rooms were barricaded. Cupboards and wardrobes were set up behind doors and chairs were placed to block handles as the soldiers and police filled every corridor and every floor of the estate.

But once again, just as Malam had said, the full arrest of the household did not matter in the slightest. The chaos by the invading soldiers and police officers was a smokescreen. Aliana felt her phone buzz and pulled it out. It was only natural that Richard would hear the commotion, and it was only natural that the man would either try to barricade himself or buy time to escape. Aliana tapped the notification and read the message from Bertrand.

“We are moving to the Second Floor Office.”

“To the Second Floor!” Aliana shouted as she picked up the pace. One of her strides needed three of the mortal’s, and they had to run to keep pace with her brisk pace. Malam had told her it wouldn’t look good if she ran, but that she shouldn’t dawdle either. Divines, as the Goddess of Hatred had described them, were definite yet unhurried.

So Aliana maintained her definite and unhurried pace. Around one bend, around another, up one set of carpeted stairs, up another. All around, Lloyd’s men and her company had already spread out. A few doors were being battered down but that was all remained of the resistance. Each team was to simply detain everyone they came across and keep them from moving. There was some shouting. There was little screaming. There were only a few tears. And not a single gunshot cracked the overbearing atmosphere even though it felt as if one spark would set the entire building to blow.

That last point, Aliana was most proud of. She didn’t know how exactly she did it, but someone she had managed it. This was going to be a completely bloodless coup. It was not a simple handing over of power as had happened in Doschia and it was the sort of revolution that was filled with executions that was in Lubska. No. This was a proper coup, a seizure of power that would set a new standard in how to seize power. A bloodless coup, through and through.

Aliana approached the door to Richard’s office.

Aliana saw soldiers that had fought with her in Lubska race to it.

Aliana saw the men kneel and take position. Four barrels pointed towards that entrance. Four barrels more aimed down either corridor to the side of the Aliana.

Aliana came to a stop at the door.

Aliana heard shouting from the inside.

And Aliana saw the doorhandle twist open.

Tall and skinny and bald and with glasses, Bertrand revealed himself from behind the door. The man looked up in awe at Aliana, and then he immediately stepped to the side. He had stayed by Richard all day, although his job had only been to reveal the King’s position. The Goddess of Allia took a step into the office and took in everything that was happening.

Six of King Richard’s royal guards, once again dressed in flamboyant red suits and some with swords and rifles already drawn, were stood in a line behind the King. Aliana took a step forwards as her men crowded into the room. Some took a kneeling posture, others dived to the ground, others yet simply kept stand. Twenty rifles aimed at six as Aliana’s eyes settled on King Richard.

The man sat behind his desk and looked tired. In a creased uniform and a thin band of silver for a crown. Queen Eleanor was by his side, gone was the bravado she had displayed when Malam had first come here. Gone was the pride when she had argued back to Aliana about what should be done for the future of Allia. Gone was all that fiery will that gave the woman the image she had so carefully curated. Now, it was a simple girl in a expensive black dress staring down twenty different barrels and realising how real her mortality really was.

King Richard settled down in the seat before the table as Queen Eleanor grabbed his shoulders supportively. The two looked up at Aliana, the Goddess did not even blink. From the corner of her vision, she saw her line of soldiers quickly spread out, rifles raised as they followed their Goddess. “Sign Richard.” Aliana said coldly. She put every emotion that Malam had told her to use into it. Cold and direct and commanding and glorious, leaving utterly no room for any discussion of the subject at hand.

Malam had said the man should be made to sign without even needing to read what he was signing. Aliana finally went off beat from the Goddess’ instructions and let the crushing silence flood into the room. All that could be heard was the breathing of almost three dozen men in a room far too small for so many. But nevertheless, Aliana gave Richard the mercy of knowing what he was doing. It wasn’t even a bad deal, it was just as Malam had said. The King would retain his estates and his servants and his accounts, even his title. Yet he would give up all political authority. That would be signed off on indefinitely to Aliana. Finally, Richard VI looked up from the paper and at the Goddess of the nation he ruled.

Just as Malam had said: Aliana was Divine, Richard was mortal. That was all there was to it. “Sign.” Aliana re-iterated in the most Divine tone she could muster. Richard looked around at the soldiers with pleading eyes, he must have realised that he was no longer the authority in the room. It didn’t matter what happened to the country at large, he may be able to wield the entire nation outside, but here, he wielded his pen and nothing else.

Richard looked to his wife and made an apologetic face. He whispered something to her that Aliana did not overhear, and then he pressed his men into the paper. And with that signature, Richard and Eleanor manage to retain their position as King and Queen of Allia, but they became King and Queen in name only.

And so the Kingdom of Allia became the Divine State of Allia.

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