The Justar were a huge sect, so they were split up over many different, smaller areas. The Silvered Warmth was one such area, located on the southern border between the Justarian Circle Circle and the Goldtorn Remains. While the Goldtorn Remains were mostly north of the Justarian Circle, the Justarian Circle somewhat looped around the east and south sides of it. The whole lower border used to be part of the Hellfire’s Claw, but after the terrifying being in charge of that territory decided to move on to greener pastures (at least, in their opinion), the sub-sector was repeatedly split into smaller parts. First there were three, then there were five, but these days, there were twelve sub-sectors, each of them ruled by a new, more loyal Justarian Lord.
The Lords along this border though were also rather vicious beings. They needed to be, because the other side of the border used to be utterly filled with Voidborns, and the Justar needed to dissuade them from entering their territories. And to stop any rogue nasties from entering, each Justarian Lord had their own flagship and small militia, a unit of about 100 well-trained soldiers.
Silverspear wasn’t the first person to be in charge of the Silvered Warmth. The area was named after the fact that the territory contained a Warmth, a Beh’evok breeding site. This one in particular was surrounded by a vast, dangerous, silver-plated asteroid field. While the Warmth had gone cold a long time ago and no longer produced life, tradition stated that a Beh’enu, a male Beh’evok, be in charge of the area and had to keep it safe.
But while the Warmth had died long before Silverspear was put in charge, the territory was now considered somewhat cursed, because it turned out that Silverspear wasn’t a Beh’evok. Everyone had thought that Silverspear was, they looked like a small Beh’enu, they had the arm blades and similar plating, but it turned out that Silverspear was some other, rather different species under the surface. Silverspear always knew he was different, but he’d only somewhat recently discovered what his original species was.
Still, Silverspear continued to work. He did his job to the best of his ability, and the Silvered Warmth hadn’t seen a Voidborn in over two year-strings now. The last one they’d seen was in a ship desperately fleeing the Goldtorn Remains and, when Silverspear’s troops captured it, it had babbled nonsensically about how everyone had been “blown up” and there was nothing left to go back to. It was clearly a member of the Crystal Doom, the cult that had plagued the Goldtorn Remains ever since the other cults had disappeared, but Silverspear felt somewhat bad for it. Instead of killing it, Silverspear had handed the Voidborn over to the Justarian Voidborn Rehoming Facility, and apparently they had sent it off to… somewhere. Silverspear never followed up on it.
That action though had been rather unpopular with Silverspear’s troops. They had wanted to kill the Voidborn. Silverspear had refused, since the Voidborn was a non-combatant and had surrendered peacefully. Sure, Silverspear, and all the border-based Justarian Lords, basically had the right to do whatever they wanted, but Silverspear had never allowed anyone to harm non-combatants, and he wasn’t going to change that. Silverspear had principles. They did understand that desire though. A good number of Silverspear’s troops were Beh’evok, they instinctively hated all Voidborns, but Silverspear was surprised when some of their non-Beh’en troops had joined in. That was unlike them.
The incident did somewhat pass, and most of Silverspear’s troops had settled back down. In fact, everything had been quiet for a while. No Voidborns had passed by, but nothing else had passed by either. No globules of Corruption, no Life Goddess trying to interfere with things, nothing. Not a single being had passed across the border. While Silverspear was fine with that, he had noticed that his troops were getting restless. Well, some of them were. And, weirdly, it wasn’t the Beh’ens for once.
Among Silverspear’s militia, there were a handful of Truthtalkers. These genderless beings were descendents of the great Truthtalker Himself, the leader of the Justar. Silverspear had met Truthtalker in person, and he was genuinely great and terrifying. Almost every single sub-sect had a Truthtalker or two among them, and Silverspear was certain it was so that the actual Truthtalker could monitor things. Sure, Peacebringer and Lawruler, the other two Justar leaders, had their ways of monitoring things too, but most Truthtalkers were somewhat simple, silent beings who did what their Father told them to.
Silverspear admittedly had never really trusted them. There was only ever one Truthtalker he’d met who he didn’t feel any concern about, and that was the exiled son, Veilbreaker, who had led the Ventra, a now extinct sect, and Veilbreaker had… a rocky past. All other Truthtalkers were just servants. That was why Silverspear never had any Truthtalkers in the higher ranks of their army.
Speaking of which, Silverspear’s musings were interrupted by a knock on the door behind them. The entire time, Silverspear had been standing in the head observatory of his flagship, the Piercing Spear, looking out into the darkness. The door was open, and Silverspear had two guards standing by it. And the being who had knocked on the door happened to be a Truthtalker.
“What do you want?” Silverspear asked as the Truthtalker entered. Forgedtruth rarely interacted with Silverspear, so it was odd that they had come to Silverspear’s personal space.
“Pain.”
“Pain? Are you ill, Forgedtruth?”
“No.”
Forgedtruth’s words were oddly slow. Their movement was slow too. Forgedtruth was normally much more mobile.
“What is wrong?”
The Truthtalker didn’t answer. They suddenly drew a blade and charged at Silverspear. It meant nothing though. Sure, Forgedtruth was strong, but they weren’t as agile as Silverspear, and before they could do any damage, Silverspear had summoned one of his own silver spears (hence his codename) and had thrust it through Forgedtruth’s leg, immobilising them, before knocking them to the ground with a telekinetic blast.
The guards outside rushed in and immediately subdued Forgedtruth completely, cuffing them and dragging them outside the room. But it was clear as day that no one was sure what had just happened.
“Where am I?” Forgedtruth exclaimed, as if a fog had lifted from their head. “Where… what… I…”
“Guards, take Forgedtruth to the prison cells, then get them a medic and get a statement out of them!” Sliverspear demanded.
“Yes, sir! What about you, sir?”
Silverspear snarled, then calmed down a little. “I… I have calls to make.”