For the sake of readability, the Age of Despots is also divided by Sovereign, similar to the Sovereign Era.
Magnus I, from his accession in 1258, was notoriously petrified of someone usurping the throne from him. With the list of potential heirs only growing larger and larger as the Tellion family tree expanded, he believed it was only a matter of time before either a murderous zealot, Sovereign wannabe, or both got to him.
In 1254, feeling he needed to avenge his mother, he called for a total dissolution of the Cult of the Sovereign. In addition to this, he outright refused to name an heir until this order was complete. This shocked almost every citizen of the Empire, especially those within the cult. Officials of the Cult of the Sovereign begged him to reconsider or negotiate, pleading that the Blood's Sight had been an extremist group dealt they had internally dealt with.
However, Magnus would not budge. His order was reluctantly carried out in full in 1252. By 1250, the Hall of the Sovereign within Alitessra had been entirely deconstructed. Similar attempts would be made to deconstruct throughout the empire were made, though not all were successful. Ironically enough, the periphery colonies along the shores of Leviathan's Wake proved to be most zealous, refusing to concede. In 1246 with most major cities having lost their Halls, Magnus considered the job done, and officially announced his cousin, Tyra, as his chosen successor. This was only a formality however, since she was around the same age as Magnus, potentially even older according to some records.
Magnus' plan to dissolve the Cult of the Sovereign in its entirety proved to not be as simple as he had imagined it, as many underground organizations began to operate either within the makeshift Halls still left standing or without them entirely. While the Blood's Sight had been abandoned, many ideologically similar splinter groups popped up throughout the 1240's and 1230's, who harbored an intense hatred of Magnus specifically. It came as little surprise, even to Magnus himself, when he was poisoned in 1221, likely by an assassin either within or paid off by a Cult of the Sovereign group.
Ultimately, however, Magnus' presumptous pick of successor would cost him in death. Tyra Mideon, his chosen successor in 1224 had fallen ill and subsequently perished in 1222. This left the crown to default to his distant relative, Servis Tellion.
Despite the questionable conditions of the former Sovereign's death, Servis was not nearly as eager to avenge him as Magnus had been for his mother. Shortly after his accession to the throne, he would began to reel back the restrictions that Magnus had placed on the Cult of the Sovereign. Despite him not even being particularly passionate, he was seen as a savior by most involved with the Cult, especially after he began his reconstruction of the Hall of the Sovereign in Alitessra in 1220.
When asked to name a successor in 1216 , he was more than compliant, quickly pointing to his son, Remus. However, with the attention of the continent, he made a seemingly innocuous suggestion to amend the more than century year old rules of succession. He suggested that, since there was so many individuals at this point that could claim relation to the Tellion line, only individuals at least 2 generations removed from someone bearing the last name could be nominated as a successor.
While this may seem reasonable enough on paper, upon considering the family tree at the time, it becomes quite apparent that the only possible successors moving forward would be Servis' direct descendants. However, with recently renewed religious zeal, the new terms of succession were gleefully embraced among the populace.
In 1216 B.F., a few former successors leading a group calling themselves the Lost Children, led by Artorius Vilas, went to Servis demanding that he reinstate them and their families in the terms of succession. Servis refused, and negotiations quickly turned to violence. Members of the Lost Children, several actually being direct past heirs, fought with the palace guards and even Servis himself, wielding the typically commemorative swords gifted to the Sovereign. There were large casualties on both sides, but ultimately the majority of the Lost Children would be injured, killed, or flee. The incident would come to be known simply as the Servian Slaughter.
Artorius Vilas would be held prisoner, and ultimately executed along with a few other of the Lost Children in 1215, burned alive. Servis would spend a great deal of the rest of his time as Sovereign chasing and crushing rebellions across the colonies sparked by the surviving Lost Children. In 1184, it is believed he had finally silenced the last of them, but the damage was already done.
Servis would spend the remainder of his life chasing phantoms, trying to quash anything vaguely rebellion shaped that might appear before him. The Cult of the Sovereign, many of whom he had appointed as his personal advisors, egged him on in this venture, insisting that the Lost Children had risen again, led by such and such distant relative. Servis would pass away in 1164, succeeded by his chosen heir, Remus Tellion.
Remus would not spend much of his life as Sovereign, since his father had him at a relatively young age. In many ways, his reign was a direct extension of his late father's. He would not be plagued by the delusions of Lost Children, however. Remus notably lived his life in much the same way he had before he ascended to the throne, being seen seldom in public life. When asked to name his successor, he would name his daughter, Elysia. This came as a surprise to much of the kingdom, who did not know he had any family altogether, even after 3 years of his rule.
During his reign, the Empire steadily moved on along, most uncaring for the Sovereign. He was, of course, a holy man and a figure of worship for much of the population, but they were left to speculate on what exactly to worship. He was seen more so as an angelic guide rather than an absolute deity, silently taking control of the fate of the Tellion Empire for the good of its citizens.
He would pass away in 1150 in his sleep, not even at the palace at the time of his death. It would take a week before he was discovered and identified as the Sovereign himself, staying at some inn with a name long since forgotten. He would be succeeded by his daughter, Elysia.
Perhaps overcompensating for being her father's daughter, Elysia took the public eye gleefully. In stark contrast with Remus, she would be very vocal within the Cult of the Sovereign, not just as the sort of revered figure many of her ancestors had been either. Even prior to her coronation, she had been active within the Alitessran Hall of the Sovereign, studying theology.
Even without being in the line of succession, it is likely that Elysia would have been successful in her zealous pursuits regardless. As Sovereign, however, she was uncontested as High Priestess. The Cult of the Sovereign took center stage with the Priestess-Empress as its defacto leader. In 1146, during the traditional succession ceremony, witnesses remarked it was more like a sermon than a speech. Servis II, her younger brother and chosen successor, was less so knighted and more so canonized.
In 1140, Elysia would enact the "Decree of Truth", which legally embraced the Cult of the Sovereign (called the "Sovereign's Truth" in this particular document) as the state religion. Along with it in 1136 came several laws forbidding the practice of worship of the Old Gods, and any other religions, especially those from off continent such as N'hesim. In order to enforce this, Elysia established a specific offshoot of the Sovereign's Faithful known as the Order of Truth.
In 1132, the Order of Truth began to actively persecute the eclectic cults that spanned the entire empire. The Voyager's Eye, in particular was purged entirely from Tellian Aurikya. Even those that were more amicable to the ideas of the Priest-Empress were forced to denounce their "false gods" or die for their cause.
By 1126, it became clear that while most would opt to quietly surrender, many were willing to lay down their lives for their faith. True, the Order of Truth had expelled most of them from the Empire, but they had merely been excised. Many found refuge in Selisan colonies (near modern day Latisc), which were indifferent to their religious beliefs.
It came as little surprise then, when in 1122, Elysia, to a crowd of simultaneously terrified and mesmerized followers, called for the empire to expand west. Latisc was to be invaded first, naturally. In 1120, overwhelmed both by superior naval forces and more numerous ground forces, they were forced to capitulate. Much to the dismay of the religious refugees, they were given up almost immediately by the remaining government, where they were forced to "assimilate" into Tellia-Latisc.
Tellia-Latisc, though unstable, was far too broken to stage any real rebellion. Though some refugees were able to flee, they were forced into a nomadic lifestyle not unlike those of the tribes, as no colony wanted to let them in and risk another Tellian invasion. In 1108, Elysia I would pass away, succeeded by her son Dominicus I.
Dominicus would continue the tradition his mother started, taking head of the Cult of the Sovereign upon his accession. He would only tighten the noose around those who did not subscribe to the Sovereign's rule even further.
He would enhance and place further restrictions particularly on Tellia-Latisc, essentially turning it into a military state led by the Order of Truth by 1094. As paranoia rose, he would begin to station the Order into Tellian-Aurikya and Tellian-Jailur as well. Naturally, the demand for more members of the Order rose even further, and it had almost doubled in size by 1090.
Dominicus would expand the empire incrementally for the rest of his reign, but never invading any major colonies. He would pass away in 1067, succeeded by his son Aulus II.
Aulus II found himself in a curious position upon his rise to the throne in 1067. While he was, much like his father, indoctrinated early into the Cult of the Sovereign and raised up as a messiah, he had a strong personal interest in the less than pious magic. He was known to have a sort of obsession with the traditional practices of the original tribes, and the Old Gods themselves.
While this might seem in stark contrast with the two preceding Sovereigns, in practice, it resulted in a very strange cross-pollination of beliefs. As Sovereign, Aulus' word was absolute, so when he began to incorporate new myths into the established canon, it was accepted without much thought.
The ultimate manifestation came of this in 1050, when in researching the properties of a particular artifact, Aulus perfected what would come to be known simply as the Faithful's Mark. Placed upon a given warrior, it would guarantee absolute devotion to the Tellion line and the Tellian Empire, prioritizing the first over the second. At first, in 1050, this would only be placed on a select few of the most trusted of the Order of Truth and Sovereign's Faithful, but it began to rapidly spread.
Surviving writings written by the Marked show the profound psychological effect it had on them. It inspired absolute and total faith in the empire, even in some cases to the point of suicidal folly. The unwavering zeal would suppress all other latent emotions, lifting the Marked's spirits. It is no wonder, then, by 1040 almost half of the empire's military fell under its control.
In a way, becoming Marked had become the ultimate show of faith in the Sovereign. In the mid 1030's, demand for the Faithful's Mark to be extended to the civilian population was at an all time high. This demand was met in 1031, when, at the routine succession ceremony, Aulus would personally mark his own son and successor, Cassian I.
By the time of Aulus' death in 1015, it seemed as if nearly everyone within Alitessra, bore the Faithful's Mark. The conquered colonies, particularly Tellia-Latisc, were less passionate about the mark, but a good quarter or more of their populations still bore it.
Carrying the mark proved to have an interesting effect on Cassian himself. He was constantly busy from the day of his accession, running around the palace and tending to matters, no matter how seemingly insignificant. In particular, he was almost neurotically concerned with anything and everything involving the Mark and its immediate spread.
While Cassian's immediate personal motivations are unknown, it is said that he spent much of his time studying both the writings his father immediately left him as well as anything he could find around the palace. Some scholars interpret this as him seeking a way to remove his own mark, while others speculate he merely wanted to understand it better. Whatever the case might have been, by 1007, surviving documents from attendants around the palace noted that his behavior had been changed.
He took to the public eye much more, akin to grandfather and great-grandmother. In 1005, he would begin to make speeches directly to the Sovereign's Faithful, seemingly beginning to warmonger for a coming conflict. However, he made no specific claims. It was more akin to a sermon of a coming apocalypse than any declaration of policy.
These speeches seemed to be for naught, and their attendance by the Non-Marked saw a steep decline as his reign went on. People assumed that it was meaningless proselytizing, and by 1000 attendance even the Marked were not particularly anxious to attend. In 995, however, to an audience of perhaps just short of 50, he stated something actually concrete. A common theme up to this point of Cassian's incoherent ramblings was the topic of a "Final War". This Final War, Cassian stated as a matter of fact, was to be waged against the Old Gods.
While this news slowly creeped across the empire, Cassian immediately mobilized the Sovereign's Faithful to attack what he believed to be the location of the voyager in Tellia-Aurikya. While the creature eventually took evasive maneuvers and retreated into the sky, it would send a good many of the Faithful sent to deal with it to the grave.
This event would nearly cost Cassian sovereignty altogether, with many believing he had gone entirely insane and was unfit to rule the empire. However, internal disputes were quickly quashed when the Old Gods began to strike back in 990. It was simultaneous across the Empire, and some scholars speculate it might have even occurred overnight. The Old Gods, some not even manifest or seen in years, appeared attacking cities. In an almost autonomous fashion, every Marked man, women, and child across the Empire found themselves against an enemy seemingly incapable of defeat.
The Empire was immediately thrown into chaos, and began a 10 year futile struggle to push them back. Cassian would fight until the bitter end, mythically said to have died lunging for the Archivist itself, leaving a wound upon its back before being subsumed into the Archivist's libraries. Following Cassian's death, any front of stability would disappear, resulting in the total collapse of the 578 year old empire of Renatus Tellion.