hello, I recently chanced upon the Unspeakable King and while doing some project related research on my own time I found out about your fanfic. I am interested in your interpretation of this mythical figure, and hope for an update on the Unspeakable King and the Silent Queen 🙏
So it has been... five and a half years since I last edited the WIP file of The Unspeakable King and the Silent Queen. Realistically, no, I'm not going to finish it.
With that in mind, spoilers be damned, see below a synopsis of each of the parts I had sketched out.
Part One: The Hollow Girl
"Fatal Night brought forth Strife steel-hearted, then hateful Strife bore Oblivion."
After showing Jenetia's birth (see here), this part follows Jenetia and her mother, Eris, being hunted by the Unspeakable King's Blind Judges. They catch up to Eris, who is killed while Jenetia is in hiding. Jenetia is found by Constantin Valdor (see here) and taken to the Emperor (see here).
Part Two: The Crimson Masque
"Even a God-King can bleed."
Jenetia is getting ready for a masquerade ball where she will make her first public appearance as the Emperor's daughter (see here). At the masque, the Emperor's Custodians are frozen in place and Blind Judges attack the Emperor. While He holds off the pariahs, Jenetia hunts down the Crimson Walker who is holding the Custodians in stasis.
Part Three: Nomenclature
"That which is unknown and unseen always commands the greatest fear."
At the behest of the Emperor, who fears the Unspeakable King is powerful enough to counter even His psychic might, Constantin arranges for Jenetia to meet a nameless man who asks for her help to kill the Unspeakable King. Together, they break into the cells of what used to be the Tower of London and free some rebellious Hollow Ones to aid them.
Part Four: Sisterhood
"Perseverance and Silence are the highest virtues."
This is the least sketched out section. Jenetia and the Hollow Ones she has freed launch guerilla raids to undermine the power of the Unspeakable King, their growing bond forming the foundation of what would eventually become the Silent Sisterhood.
Part Five: Regicide
"Our end, when it comes, will be writ by our own bloody hand."
Jenetia and her sisters infiltrate the Unspeakable King's throne room, where it is confirmed that he is her father. An assassination attempt by the nameless man using an Animus Speculum fails, and the Unspeakable King proves able to unleash a similar blast without technological aid, which fells the nameless man but has no effect on Jenetia. Jenetia kills the Unspeakable King with her mother's misericodia, No Man's Hand. The surviving Hollow Ones kneel as Celia pronounces "The King is dead, long live the Queen."
Epilogue: The Once and Future King
The nameless man meets with the Grand Master of Assassins, who addresses him as Sire Culexus, to deliver the remains of the Unspeakable King. The Grand Master announces that Project: Black Pariah can now begin.
Polimnia: “Everything you know Commander Krole to be begins with the Cataclysm of Pentacanaes. The first Vow of Tranquillity, the Sword of Oblivion, the Silent Sisterhood. Pentacanaes was her magnum opus, proving that a paramilitary force of pariahs was workable on a far larger scale than the handful of witchseekers in the Chamber of Oblivion - and that she was the one to command it. If it hadn’t been classified above top secret, she could have earned the laurels invictarus there and then.”
(Send in a question+ an icon for the question to be answered by my muse’s: 👨father 👩mother 👧sister 🧒brother 🧑friend 🙅♂️enemy 👩🌾neighbour 👵grandparent 🧔relative 🕵️♂️random)
Forge World had their chance to tell the origin story of the Silent Sisterhood in Inferno, and, while they dropped some important hints, they decided to go with a heavy dose of “’tis mystery all!”. On the one hand, I get it, but on the other... I want more. I guess it’s up to me then.
A soulless girl and a monstrous tyrant will determine the future of Albia and Mankind.
[The Unspeakable King and the Silent Queen on AO3] [My works on AO3]
Prologue: Albia Kneels
Part One: The Hollow Girl (coming soon, extracts available)
Part Two: The Crimson Masque (coming soon)
Part Three: Nomenclature (coming soon)
Part Four: Sisterhood (coming soon)
Part Five: Regicide (coming soon)
Epilogue: The Once and Future King (coming soon)
Prologue: Albia Kneels
THREE DAYS EARLIER the Emperor of Mankind had entered the Albian parliament alone and unarmed. To either side of Him, the hundreds of warlords of the warrior clans and castellans of the castram-cities had sat on tiered rows of crimson benches, wearing an eclectic array of cloaks and furs, plate armour and exo-suits. The very image of techno-barbaric splendour. He had come before them humbly, robed in white marked with the heraldic cross of another time, another life.
The scene repeated itself, almost.
A step behind came His guardians, armed for war in stark contrast to their king. Constantin Valdor and Jasac Jasaric towered over the Emperor in suits of thunderstruck gold, scarlet cloaks and spear hafts hovering a hair’s breadth above the blue carpet. Behind masks of impassive auramite, the Emperor’s Custodians surveyed the faces of the assembled lords, judging them. Many were dissatisfied with the decision of the majority, though they were wise enough to realise they could not stand divided. Perhaps they would prove wise enough to recognise the futility of rebellion, too. Constantin and Jasac marked out those they found wanting to one another over the closed-net radioracle.
The hushed murmur in the chamber died to absolute silence when Jenetia Krole and Celia Harroda followed. The Emperor had insisted they accompany Him, against Constantin’s counsel and even despite their own protestations. They were resplendent in silver armour, long hair bound in topknots dyed red to match the plumes on the Custodians’ tall helms. They might as well have walked in with bloodstained hands and blades drawn for some of the looks they received, but others looked on them with something approaching awe. Both made Jenetia uncomfortable. Without the benefit of even a half-helm to conceal her face, it took a conscious effort to keep a grimace at bay.
Ahead of the Emperor was a stepped dais, on which sat a simple oak chair. Once, not so many years ago, an elaborate throne of jewelled gold would have occupied the position. It did not matter, for the Master of Mankind needed no golden throne to proclaim His majesty. Constantin and Jasac took up their positions to either side of the throne, planting their guardian spears only when the Emperor had taken His seat. His throne. Jenetia and Celia halted on the first of the three steps. Though they kept their eyes fixed impassively ahead, Jasac did not doubt they had picked out any psykers in the chamber just as he and Constantin had identified the malcontents. He passed his hidden gaze across those lords who seemed most discomfited, and wondered idly if they realised they were feeling only a small measure of the dread the witchseekers could unleash.
A bell began to toll, and from each side of the parliament chamber came one of the chosen representatives of Albia. From the left, clad in an emerald cloak over white carapace chased with snarling blue lions, Lady Garro, Warchief of Clan Garovidian and Speaker for the Lords Martial. From the right, matching the Custodians’ bulk if not their height in hulking ironside armour, Lord Caine, Constable of the Black Tower and Chancellor of the Castellans’ Guild.
As they met across the aisle, golden chains lowered the last royal jewel into their waiting hands. No crown for the warrior-kings of Albia. Said to have been forged in the Otherworld for the legendary Titan-King of Old Albia, the Kingsblade was half as large again as the heaviest broadsword and far too massive for any normal man to wield. The servo-musculature in Lord Caine’s armour took the weight easily while Lady Garro loosed the thick chains from around the black leather scabbard.
When they approached the dais they did not, as expected, ascend the steps to lay it before the Emperor. Instead they turned, kneeling before Jenetia. The servos in Lord Caine’s armour snarled in protest at a movement they were never designed to perform.
“What are they doing?” Jasac asked over the radioracle, whilst outwardly he remained silent and unmoving.
“Doing it their way,” Constantin replied with less confusion and more concern than Jasac. He didn’t like them kneeling to the Emperor’s daughter instead of the Emperor Himself, but he trusted Jenetia to respond appropriately. As ever, he moved only at the word and the will of the Emperor.
Jenetia hesitated, looking to the Emperor for guidance. Her father simply smiled at her and nodded. He knew. Of course He knew.
She turned back to the kneeling Lord Caine and Lady Garro, grasping the oversized hilt they proffered with both hands. Jenetia pulled the Kingsblade free, revealing the much-faded inscription in Archaic Gothic – a string of unclear or half-formed letters ending rex, which gave the sword its name. She was barely able to lift the titanic sword, settling instead for resting the point on the ground. For all its ceremonial quality, the monosteel edge sank through the carpet and bit an inch into the stone beneath. Even then it was almost as tall as she was.
Before she had a chance to turn and offer the blade to the Emperor, the warlords and castellans of Albia stood and roared as one.
“Long live the Queen!”
Melpomanei: “In my day, the sword that would become known as the Somnus Blade was wielded by Witchseeker Pursuivant Celia Harroda. She was the bravest and the best of all my sisters.”
