There is little that the White Pantheon agrees upon entirely. Arascus has to be defeated, for one. The Empire cannot be allowed to exist, for two. In fact, up until yesterday, it was impossible to think of a third. Now though, Paraideisius has given us a gift. The trite that Chamuel dares to declare as a scholarly work has reached Arda. It is doubtless that our discovery of the text was an accident but now, we all have Helenna to thank for sneaking a copy away from their grubby little paws.
Chamuel claims he is infatuated with our world, as if we want to be reduced to the status of animals to be studied by so moralizing angel. Paraideisius must have discovered the origin of creation, or maybe they have found the manual of the universe: “The White Pantheon breaks such fundantal rules of cohesion that it is baffling as to how it still manages to exist.” What a grand claim! Fundantal rules of cohesion? The White Pantheon began as a war alliance, the thing that joined us together back then was the threat of Arascus. The thing that joins us now is the threat of chaos once again falling over Arda should we take a step back. The Great War is still within living mory, Arda is only marching down the road of peace because we refuse to give any slack to the reins.
If a common goal is not the objective of cohesion, then we can only scratch and ponder upon what sort of knowledge Chamuel carries in his mind. What is even a rule of cohesion? Must we hold hands and sing song? Maybe that is not enough for Paraideisius. Maybe they would demand that we be each other’s bedwarrs too? Why not marry each other? No. We argue over drinks and we sabotage each other’s evenings because those are the areas in which argunt is allowed. Because we can live with each other and not agree upon every topic in existence, because we are different deities, from different ages, with foundationally different characters? Of course a world that has been stagnating in its success for almost its entire written history will not be able to comprehend such a concept.
It is the smug tone of superiority that is the true culprit, especially when that tone is so confidently wrong. We do not trust each other yet we work together? Nay. I do not even trust my own servants to pour a drink that will match my palette, much less Elassa or Allasaria or even Maisara. But do I trust that they will do the best for Arda? I would swear it upon every soul on this planet. In fact, I shall state it for the whole Pantheon, because I know each and every one of them considers this a self-evident and universal truth: we would free, pardon and fight alongside every Imperial Divine should sothing co to threaten Arda.
Had they won, they would do the sa for us.
Once the Great War began, it could not be stopped. Had I, had Arascus, had Allasaria and had Kassandora been more intelligent, then that war would have ended not in the victory of the White Pantheon or the Empire, but in the victory of Arda over these aliens that think they have so right to look down upon us.
That is all to be said on the topic. Chamuel’s pacifism is the antithesis to my Peace.
- Excerpt of the “Interplanetary Discussions”, in which the White Pantheon discussed theirs and Arda’s position in the universe, following the end of the Great War. Written by Goddess Fortia, of Peace.
Kassandora watched her own leg begin to tap again. “You’re doing it again.” Kavaa shifted next to her as they sat on the Goddess’ couch again, the fire roaring in the fireplace. That first ti Kavaa had set down under the blanket had been hours of bliss, they sat in silence until the sun set, then they sat in silence throughout the whole night until they could not sit anymore.
Kavaa’s ho, so quaint and so cozy and so rustic, was perfect. This land, with its evergreens now covered in snows and its mountains, was perfect. The mountains outside were perfect. The night sky, utterly untarnished, so clear that even satellites could be spotted making their slow journeys around Arda, was perfect. It was the sort of environnt once could imagine in their dreams. Kassandora had imagined it in her past, many tis. Recently, those tis had been with Kavaa, they had been with her father and her sisters too. Long ago, it had been alone, but it was always so quaint piece of nowhere like this. And now she got it.
She got it and it drowned her. Her tapping leg got faster as the air beca thick like jelly. The heat from the fireplace was suffocating, Kavaa’s presence itself was beginning to be an anvil pulling her to the bottom of the lake. But Kassandora swore to herself that this ti, she would not let go of the anvil. Not when things had co this far, not when she venturing into uncharted territory. She had to get through it. Drowning had to be experienced to truly test if soone could swim.
Although Kassandora didn’t know how deep the pond went. It had started to suffocate earlier in the week, but jobs, tasks, activities with Kavaa could push it away. Now though, the suffocation had turned to a crush. And the crush was starting to be painful. The week had felt like a year, Kassandora had promised herself it would not be more than a few days, but then there was always one more thing she wanted to do with Kavaa. It had been the pool, several tis a day. It had been walks. They even had one conversation were they decided against keeping any animals, as both of them had to be away for most of the ti and it would simply be cruel to the creature. There had been cooking, both of them could cook, Kassandora supposed. They were Divine after all, both with two thousand years under their belt, it would be farcical that they be unable to fry an egg.
But their skills had been cut from the sa cloth. Kassandora fed soldiers, Kavaa fed patients. Every one of Kassandora’s sisters could sohow make an olette that was tastier even though Kassandora was sure that she was following the recipe down to the most minute detail. Kavaa seemingly had the sa issue. And no one was here to tell them exactly where they were going wrong. The one thing they could do well was make drinks. That, Kassandora was sure no one beat them on. Not even Malam, although Of Hatred didn’t so much make drinks as drink them.
They had hiked up the mountains, Kavaa had finally seen her the neighbours that lived so ten miles away. A minor deity apparently, who hadn’t been ho and who couldn’t be too grand because their house was a small fortress styled to look like a dieval castle. It looked downright miserable to live in, but Kassandora was sure that it was just her own bias coming through. They had tracked bears and deer and found wild beehives, caught fish and fried them. They had made a kite together, it was currently affixed to a pole outside, flying up in the air pulled entirely by the wind itself.
Of course, there were a thousand things left to do. A million even. There were so many things that Kassandora couldn’t even think of them, they simply appeared in her mind. It was almost exhausting to think that life could be this frantic. She looked down at her bare leg tapping away on the carpet as Kavaa took a deep breath. “Kass.” She said quietly.
Kassandora shifted on the couch and forced it to settle down. There were a billion things to do and there was a world outside this little bubble of solitude. Arascus must have been looking out for them, no one had even rung to disturb or ask where Kassandora was. Surely the Imperial Military needed her at this point. “Hello?” Kavaa said as she leaned down, Of Health was in a thick white jumper, Kassandora had apparently received a special one, this one was cream cashre. It was ridiculously soft, and not too hot. Although maybe the lack of heat was due to the fact the jumper was on the only thing she had on.
Kassandora didn’t reply. The Imperial Military didn’t need her. They had her father, they had Iliyal, they had a dozens of generals, thousands of officers, Kassandora had designed the system so that it would run by itself. That was the whole point of it. She couldn’t be in every battle, she couldn’t even be in most of them. But she was needed. It was starting to eat at her now. “Kass?” Kassandora stared down at her thighs, and then saw Kavaa’s head suddenly appear on them.
Gray eyes stared up at Kassandora’s crimson, all given a lovely orange hue by the fire across the room. Outside, an owl hooted in the night sky. Kassandora wished she could just fall through the couch right now and out of this world. That sothing ca down to steal this mont away from her. “It’s eating at .” Kassandora said.
Kavaa laid in silence for a mont, shadows dancing at her. At least the physical weight of the other Goddess stopped Kassandora’s leg from tapping madly again. Sothing squeaked outside, a rabbit, a squirrel, so animal. Fer would know. “What is?” Kavaa asked.
“There’s a war going on.” Kassandora said. The week felt as if it had passed in the blink of an eye. It may as well have been the most pleasant dream that Kassandora had ever had. But day-by-day, the dream slowed down. This past hour had been a decade. There was a war going on and the Goddess of War was sitting quietly in her friend’s beautiful ho, underneath her wondrous blanket, in nothing but this jumper that slled of Kavaa. There was a war going on, and that simple fact was starting to devour Kassandora.
“I know.” Kavaa said. “Do you want to return?” She said. “We’ve been a week, you’ve already made given more than I expected.”
Kassandora smiled and forced her eyes closed to contain the tears that sprouted without warning. Kavaa must have seen her cry at least ten tis everyday now, it didn’t matter. Crying felt good, Kassandora didn’t even blush of embarrassnt at this point. “No.” She said. “Not at all.” She opened her eyes again and stared at Kavaa.
“But you have to.” Kavaa said quietly.
“But I have to.” Kassandora repeated.
“I know what that’s like.” Kavaa said and closed her eyes. “Tomorrow morning then? First light?”
“First light.” Kassandora agreed as she looked away. The week had been bliss, she wanted it to never end. But she had to end it, so that there could be more weeks like this in the future. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for that.” Kavaa said. “I know, we have a war to fight. It won’t fight itself.”
“I won’t run off like in Levhen.” Kavaa chuckled.
“Do you think I believe you?” She asked. “Don’t say you don’t know.” Kassandora stared at the fire and felt tears slide down her cheeks.
“I wish I was an ant.” She said quietly.
“You’d get squashed.” Kavaa said lightly, then shifted, the side of her head pressed against Kassandora’s stomach through the jumper. It was the warst, most comforting sensation Kassandora had ever heard. Kassandora burst out in a painful laughter. Squashing was exactly what she deserved right now. Ants were great. Ants followed their own trails, ants didn’t think, ants didn’t bother with these problems and ants that stepped out of line got squashed. What exactly was there to not want in a life like that?
And whilst ants weren’t stupid, Kassandora was sure they weren’t smart either. There had never, not once in all of Ardan history, been an ant that sat in her nest and suffered in her waiting for an order. Ants simply got orders and when no orders ca down, then they stood around in circles and made themselves useful. And most certainly of all, when an ant ate, it ate. When it slept, it slept. When it worked, it worked. There had never been an ant that felt this disgusting sensation of relief that the week of bliss was coming to an end.
What a waste of a soul.
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