"Welcome to the first annual Sanctum Film Festival!" Nebrith flashed a blinding smile for the crowd. Her sequined gown and hair piece glittered in Sanctum's bright golden twilight. Popular hits from the Inquin Flock Five blared out across the square, charging up the growing crowd of daevas for the day's event. An enormous piece of canvas had been set up in the plaza, and daevas who weren't dancing to the music were lounging in the grass, playing with pets, enjoying each other's company, and snacking on delicacies provided by the Sanctum Chef's Guild in honor of the event. A raised, elaborate booth boasting colored banners and gilded decor had been constructed near the canvas. While an Asmodian would accuse the booth of being a pompous eyesore, the Elyos in the square paid it great reverence. Four out of five of the seats were filled, with the fifth conspicuously empty. A small tent was set up a ways away, fabric doors flapping gently in the breeze.

"The crowd today looks great, daevas! I hope you're ready, because we have a very special treat for you this evening. You read it in the announcements, you heard me say it last week, and now you can see it for yourselves-the Seraphim Lords have gathered here today just for you! You heard me- right here in Sanctum! If Lord Nezekan isn't a heartthrob ladies, I don't know what is. Remember, no harassing them- if you want to show them love, you are encouraged to pray at the prayer tent at any time. Remember, no more than two daevas in the tent at once, and no cutting while queuing...,"

"There's a sizeable turnout," Lord Nezekan commented, watching the daevas below from his seat at the booth. "It has been too long since I've been to any kind of public event that wasn't a military rally. It brings back old memories." A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

"Unfortunately," Kaisinel replied dryly, staring broodily into his goblet of the finest wine that Sanctum had to offer. His garments were pristine, but his fringe was noticeably shorter and he smelled faintly of barbecue.

"What I want to know is who was in charge of dragging Vaizel here. Evidently, they've done a terrible job." Yustiel took a bite of her delicate abex cheese quiche, pointedly ignoring the polite and very noble glower that Ariel sent her way. "He disappointed me last month by failing to give me and my generals an espionage debrief on the previous month's military actions." She stabbed the fork into her quiche, making Nezekan jump. "He had better come, or Aion help all of us."

"Disappointment can't exist without some threshold of expectation." Nezekan watched the daevas in the plaza begin to gather around the screen with a neutral expression, but the weary frustration in his voice did not go unnoticed.

"We don't need to spend this time complaining, do we? Vaizel or no Vaizel, it's the first time the rest of us have all been together in a decade." Ariel smiled at the present Seraphims from her radiant throne in the center, looking meaningfully from Yustiel and Kaisinel sitting in their thrones on her right, to Nezekan and Vaizel's empty seat on her left. "I for one, can't wait to see what our daevas have come up with."

Nebrith had taken up a place near the projection screen. The entrants had filled their designated front row of seats, stirring with competitive anticipation. Nezekan was surprised to spot Brigade General Telemachus among them. He was seated next to a pretty, red-haired sorceress who was speaking to him with great enthusiasm. With each passing minute, Telemachus appeared to turn a more sickly shade of green.

All that Nezekan could see of the daeva on his other side was a giant purple hat, atop which seemed to be, strangely, a second, smaller hat. His eyes slid right over a green mass of hair, a hooded daeva, and a particularly garish looking quartet of Rainbow Snakes to return to the sorceress. For no discernible reason, his stomach turned.

When the hour struck nine, Ariel and Kaisinel stood side by side and released a shining plume of magic, dimming Sanctum's eternal light and illuminating the large canvas. A hush fell over the crowd as Nebrith stepped in front of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Welcome, daevas tall and small, fledglings and veterans, to the debut of the Sanctum Film Festival. First of all, on behalf of Sanctum I would like to thank everyone for coming to enjoy the show and commend the hard work that the competitors today have put into their unique and inspired masterpieces. Before we get rolling on those, I ask that you all please turn your attention to our very special judges this evening."

The crowd clapped with enthusiasm ranging from polite recognition to rabid shouting. Yustiel beamed and waved gracefully. Nezekan bowed deeply, a humble, yet noble gesture that brought wild cheers from the templars. Ever regal, Lady Ariel stood tall and smiled, radiant and commanding without requiring any theatrics.

It took some time for the more excitable Elyos to settle down, and Nebrith had to steal the housing officer's megaphone in order to regain control of the attendees. One of the Empyrean Guard could be seek hauling Ekoboros, Lady Ariel's determined unwanted suitor, out of the plaza with some difficulty. The Seraphim Lords sat down.

"Thank you, thank you. It truly is the greatest honor to have them here today." Nebrith gestured with a bright smile and an overly-cheerful wink. "Our leaders have promised to judge fairly and without bias, so competitors, you know you are in good hands! Now, if you'll all take a moment to look under your seats, you'll find that the Library of Sages has put together programs that you can use to follow along with the show tonight. We'll be getting started in just a few minutes."

As she lowered the megaphone, the daevas near the center of the crowd started moving with sudden unrest. The disturbance spread like a ripple, and before long daevas were shouting and craning to see what was going on.

"Blood just started coming out of his nose!"

"It got all over my tunic, too. This was couture."

Immediately, Yustiel moved forward as Nebrith desperately tried to regain control of the situation.

The crowd parted. A daeva that Nezekan recognized with some uncertainty as Arion, the Daeva of Prophecy, barreled out of the masses and nearly crashed into the throne booth. Blood streamed out of his face like a waterfall, and his eyes were brimming with an otherworldly light that Lord Nezekan instantly recognized as the Divine Will of Aion.

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wincing, fearing," the prophet rasped, clinging to the multi-colored tablecloth with white-knuckled fists. "Doomed to dreaming dreams no daeva ever dared to dream before;"

One by one, the daevas present stopped panicking and bemoaning stained garments, captivated as Arion's lyrical voice wove through the air.

"But the silence had been broken and the sinful word was spoken, and the sacred sanctum broken at the whispered word, "No more."

This was whispered, and Siela echoed back the word, "No More!"

Hear this omen, heed it well, lest innocence be nevermore."

As the self-proclaimed prophet uttered these words, a hush fell over the crowd.

It was a magnificent piece of poetry.

"A most sophisticated and artful work, daeva." Kaisinel appeared briefly impressed, and his air of indifference was mildly disturbed. "You just might prove beneficial to the Elyos cause after all."

Arion, now once more himself, swayed as he smiled in a fearful, awkward kind of way.

"T-thank you, my liege. I will be sure to include it in my next publication," he said. Apparently, it took quite a lot of effort, because he fell to the ground in a faint immediately afterwards. Arion's prophecies were a common enough occurrence within Sanctum that healers began to slowly walk, rather than run, to his aid.

"Ariel," Nezekan could hear Yustiel whispering to Ariel," We ought to consider what the daeva is saying. I was gifted a copy of his book last month. His predictions have been more than coincidentally accurate."

"The Little Daeva's Bathroom Reader- Special Horoscope Edition?"

Yustiel laughed quietly. "That's the one. Don't tell me it came from you?"

"It predicted Ekoboros's latest proposition attempt last month down to the smallest detail, so naturally I had to share it," Ariel replied with a coy smile. "I don't think I could agree more with your concerns. Nez, Kass," she said more loudly. "The Tribunal vetted all the entries, yes?"

Nezekan looked at Kaisinel, who had choked on his wine.

"Of course they did," Kaisinel sputtered in the midst of a coughing fit. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, glaring at Ariel with a look that promised retribution. "What, do you still think me incompetent? Even a child could do it."

Before any kind of action could be taken, the projector lit up like a sparkie's butt and the Inquin Flock Five blared the anthem of Elysea across the plaza. Two unranked clerics grabbed Arion's limp arms and awkwardly dragged the unconscious prophet out of sight. The idle chatter of the crowd died down as daevas found their seats, or rushed to the concessions table in a last minute bid for grub.

A series of clips flickered across the screen in time to the music. A beautiful woman dressed as an Asmodian danced mournfully in a stone cavern. A spiritmaster in an enormous purple hat swooped gracefully through the air and crashed headfirst into a doorway. An eyesore of a gunslinger sporting a bright green, violently upswept moustache made a thumbs-up and smiled brilliantly at the camera with neon lettering scrolling in the foreground.

The reel made a horrendous squeaking and rattling noise, and the pictures on the screen froze on the moustached daeva. Tremors rocked the machine, causing the image to jitter and jump. The audience rumbled with uncertainty as the technicians raced to fix the device, armed with wrenches and troubleshooting manuals.

Free moustache styling Grow n' Groom seminar is coming to Sanctum! read the projection as it loomed over Sanctum like a billboard. Feel the Flabulousity! Facial hair encouraged but not required to attend. ISO green hair dye. PM for details.

"What's goin' on?" A reedy-voiced aethertech stormed up to the technicians. They huddled over the projector and spoke in whispers. After a few seconds, one of the technicians nodded, stepped back, and smacked the device soundly with the wrench.

The projector clattered in protest and the image jumped forward far enough for a stylized burst of stars to emerge from the gunslinger's five inch tall moustache before jerking to a stop. The technician struck it again, and the reel shuddered into motion once more with great reluctance.

On the screen, the moustache disappeared and was replaced with an unconvincing actress in Lady Yustiel's robes. She came crashing through a wall -Kuruku-aid Man style- and looked around the set with desperate eyes. A nearly naked daeva wearing purple body paint and leather armor came crashing through the wall opposite. The two embraced enthusiastically.

Nezekan did a double take.

Was that actress supposed to be Trin?!

The Yustiel on screen yanked at her robes, and the clip changed again to show Telemachus standing at a crafting table, furiously whipping at a bowl of cream as a giant clock ticked away on the table next to him. A band of rainbow snakes performed an intricate jazz number atop giant slabs of Beluslan ice. The screen faded, and an upbeat tune played as the logo of the First Annual Sanctum Film Festival lit up the canvas.

Nezekan's mouth opened and shut several times as he tried to comprehend what he just saw.

Unfortunately for him and all of the assembled daevas, what they had witnessed was but a small preview of what was to come.

The technist technician operating the device pressed a button and pulled a lever. The projector clicked and rattled. The Tragedy of Judge Kromede appeared onscreen as daevas clapped with polite appreciation.

In the days, and months, and even years that would follow, the consequences that would result from that action would be told only in low whispers, each retelling more vulgar, exaggerated, and horrifying than the last. Veterans would come to refer to the day only as The Event, a day of nightmares and awe, unprecedented and gut-wrenching plot twists, and popcorn. Some would require rehabilitative therapy for years afterwards, others would sequester the memory away to live in contented denial.

But for now, at this moment, there was peace. Lady Yustiel nudged a piece of a sugar dusted piece mela turnover onto Lady Ariel's plate with a warm smile. Lord Nezekan's mind wandered to pleasant thoughts of his son and lover. Lord Kaisinel radiated malevolence from the corner as he dwelled on giant storm dragons, cute tiny animals, and unwanted haircuts. Lady Ariel tasted the turnover and nodded enthusiastically, all the while warily monitoring the crowd for her unwanted suitor Ekoboros's inevitable appearance. Arion, the Daeva of Prophecy lay in a planter just behind the walls of the square, forgotten by all but a lone cleric who tended to him with care and diligence. Lord Vaizel mingled with the crowd, unseen as he waited with devilish intent for the fruits of his labor.

The Sanctum Film Festival had begun.