Chapter 631 – Pairhood
This is a skill I have learned long by myself, and then finalized with my father. It is a talent, that is to match people together. Whereas I am no matchmaker for romantic relationships, or even stable ones, from one meeting, it is obvious to tell who will work together and who will not. Some traits, joy and negativity, are utterly repellent of each other. There is no such as balancing out, the reason missions with Fer and Malam are kept minimal is because the former is a beacon of positivity and the other despises it. Negativity and negativity are much better partners, two cynics will get along like butter and bread. Two optimists will delude themselves with their own optimism like honey with whiskey. Whereas there is such a thing as skill, I have seen it many times in mortals that simply skill is utterly overwhelmed by mutual disdain. And I have seen it with Divinity.
Anassa, for example, needs to have someone unafraid and unbreaking around her. She aspires to challenge. Baalka however gets crushed by such a personality. Irinika is her own woman, she needs no one around her and needs a particular sort of patience to be dealt with. I could do this for all my sisters. I could do it for all the Divines I know of. I myself am like Irinika, for the two of us, the question is not so much as to who we are compatible with but more who can actually put up with our characters.
Rulership is much the same. A genius that cannot deal with the people around them is ruined. A fool in the right place can hold everything together. To select officers, and when looking for soldiers, one needs to be aware of abrasive personalities, they fit as commanders for penal legions, not much else.
- Excerpt from “The Philosophy of War”, written by Goddess Kassandora, of War.
Anassa stared at Ashen Skies over the horizon. Maisara was down the pale hill of grey-yellow rock, standing in her chest plate and her skirt with her legs exposed like some damn harlot. She had not summoned her axe yet, of course she hadn’t, no doubt she expected Anassa to be doing everything here. “We have to get secured.” Maisara said, pointing to the steel door of the bunker, that had been converted from a highway tunnel which crossed through the mountain into what was effectively a holding cell for a full Division of Imperial troops.
“I can hold it.” Anassa said. She was more confident in their survival if she just trusted herself rather than some hill. The closest town was slowly being submerged by the ashfront. It didn’t push into Esberia as quickly as it had across the Sassara. Most likely the terrain then, although the terrain was not pleasant here in the slightest. Thin trees waved from side to side, their leaves already blown away by the incoming winds. Dust storms and tiny tornadoes, harmless, raced across the country and through ravine where winds conglomerated. A set of roads ran straight into that approaching wall of flame and fire and hurricane and lightning. To their west, the sun was being to set over Esberia, casting long shadows. Night’s approaching darkness in the east was like a child against the filthy grey storm in the air.
Maisara asked the worst question she could possibly pose. “Can you?”
Anassa couldn’t contain the scowl. Could she hold it? Could she fucking hold it? Of course she could! She had pushed back the Ashfront several times singlehandedly! She had singlehandedly defended how many Holds? And Maisara knew! Maisara fought in the Great War, Maisara had avoided Anassa’s advance whenever the Goddess of Sorcery was approaching. And now, was she actually asking whether it could be held!? Of course it could! “Don’t ask me stupid questions.” Anassa said. Worst of all, there was no way that Irinika would be asked this question. Oh no. Never her. But Anassa would. As if Maisara was not on a level of power so far below Anassa that there was no point in comparison.
“Alright.” Maisara replied dryly. “I’m just confirming.”
“You don’t have to confirm.” Anassa said and Maisara sighed. She looked down at the ground for a few moments, her breathing deep, and that fair face turned to Anassa. Silver eyes framed by silver hair made the woman look almost ethereal.
“I confirm because it is what I do, and I will be confirming with you.” Anassa stared at the sheer display of audacity. For a moment, her eyebrows furrowed. The wind past them by, Maisara’s chainmail skirt was too heavy to sway, Anassa’s dress of silken sorcery was not touched by such meagre things. The trees waved in the distance, flares went up from other divisions, to signify that they were cutting radio signal and entering the Ashfront. And Anassa saw Maisara hold her glare.
Frankly, there was something satisfying in that. Most Divines would have looked away. “Very well then.” Anassa scoffed and threw her hair away with one hand as she smoothed her dress down. “Go ahead, confirm all you wish!” Maisara shook her head, gave no answer and turned back to the Ashfront. Anassa’s crimson eyes focused on her back, it was one thing to be argued with, it was another entirely to be casually dismissed! “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Are all of you like this?” Maisara asked.
“Like what?”
“Neneria was similar.” Maisara said. “This focus on trivialities over substance.”
“Who are you to talk of substance?” Anassa asked.
“I am the Goddess of Order who broke natural order and was resurrected. What do I know of substance indeed?” Maisara answered. “No, I mean…” She sighed and trailed off. “Whatever. It’s just odd.”
“Would you prefer I beat you into the ground?”
“No.”
“Then accept what you get and be happy with it.” Anassa said. “I can hold the Ashfront.”
“I heard you the first time.” Maisara said. “If you say so, then you say so.”
“Well I do say so.” Anassa agreed, then stopped when she realised she was agreeing with Maisara. The threat of the Ashfront was almost entirely out of her mind, she had held it back over the sea in testing attempts, and that involved flight. Here, when she was on the ground, it would be even easier to split it, especially if she didn’t have to handle the refuse of Ashen Skies either. Rather, it was the fact that this woman just tricked her to agree with her, what was that even? Since when did she agree with people? “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” Maisara asked.
“Easy?”
Maisara guffawed out in laughter. “Of all the things anyone has ever told me, that’s a first.” The silver pauldrons over her wrists smashed against her chestplate. “Really?”
“Why?” Anassa asked. “Are you not?”
Maybe it would not be so bad to work with Maisara after all.
My father is a noble soul, for my father has patience eternal. I am not a patient soul, nor do I particularly care about the opinions of others. I am Divine, that is enough.
- Excerpt from the private writings of Goddess Irinika, of Darkness
Irinika pivoted her head to Fortia as the Ashfront approached. “Oh my my Fortia.” Irinika said. “Are you not going to bestow any of your ancient, hard-won wisdom upon my marvellous mind?”
Fortia sighed and shook her head. “What is there to dispense? We breach the Ashfront, I don’t expect to be giving you orders.”
“That, I do declare, is a mistake. Any officer knows there needs to be a hierarchy.” Irinika said. She looked down upon Fortia, the woman’s lip trembled, her brow narrowed, she blinked and then she looked up Anassa. The wind passed them by, they were further east than Maisara and Anassa, the night here already stretched across the sky. The Ashfront was a line of orange and red and purple that swirled and split a dark ground with an even darker sky behind it. Ash was beginning to rain down like warm snow around them, although an umbrella of black energy covered both Goddesses.
“Did I just hear that?” Fortia said. “A hierarchy?”
“Of course.” Irinika said like a snake. She had her fill of rulership for thousands of years before she met Arascus, and she needed to half-command the utterly inept Dwarven commanders underground as Malam ran their society for them. “We get deployed, I am the Goddess that does the fighting, you are the one who is rank of General-Divine.”
“Are you not?”
“I am Divine Irinika of Darkness.” She made a grandly theatrical gesture, one hand twirling as it made a pirouette upwards, the other landing on her hip. Her cloak of darkness which fell from her luscious, perfect, downright enviable locks, twirled along with her. “What can mere rank offer me?”
Fortia turned to face her. The Goddess of Peace, in that gold-bronze armour, stared up at her with shock and confusion. “Are you actually saying I’m above you?”
Irinika’s smile curled. “In terms of intelligence, I have no doubt I am smarter. Erudition? I am certain that my talent in soliloquy is far more grandiose? On the matter of beauty? I do not even suggest for you to take offense, for my beauty is magnificent. Likewise in power, we are comparing star-filled galaxies to clay pits.” All throughout Irinika’s monologue, Fortia’s eyes just grew even more confused, her lip trembled for a moment, she just stared, mouth ajar. “For I am so grand that the God of Pride chose me, and found me worthy. And I, in all my intellect, am truly the most blessed with a mind that possesses such forward thinking, such capability of planning, that I saw his offer and I accepted it. If that is not proof of all-encompassing genius, then let it be declared such a thing does not exist upon this world.”
Fortia had no reaction for a moment. She just stared, her eyes obviously trying to work through what she just heard. “Is that a yes or a no? Am I in command?”
Irinika knew how to act. She made her tone as flat as the grand plains under Karaina. “In military matters, I am sure you command armies better than I do.”
Fortia just took a deep breath and shook her head. “Well we got somewhere.” She said. “Alright.” The eyes of gold-bronze once again focused on Irinika. “You are nothing how I expected you to be, do you know that?”
“I aim to surprise and I aim to please.” Irinika said. “After all, my heart is blessed with such goodness that if we had a deity of Good, she would be called Irinika!” Fortia actually chuckled.
“You’re something else, Maisara would hate you.” Fortia said and shook her head.
Irinika smiled. “The Goddess of Order has no high mind for the arts now, does she?” It was a test to see how far everything could be pushed, what sort of relationship did Fortia and Maisara exactly have? Did the former get offended when anyone said anything about the latter?
“I can’t even disagree with you.” Fortia said, chuckling. “Honestly, you are something else.” She turned back to the Ashfront. “Are you scared of that?”
“Is there such a thing as a Divine that feels fear?” Irinika asked.
“Is there such a thing as a Divine who thinks she’s in a play?” Fortia asked. Irinika chuckled. That was sharp, it was something she would expect from Malam.
“She’s standing right by your side.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Fortia’s lips curl upwards. “Do not feel fear, for you stand before the Champion of Empire! The matter of your safety is merely a matter of my own amusement!”
Fortia shook her head. “You are nothing like Allasaria.” Irinika smiled. Was she being played? Maybe she was. It always felt good to be compared to Allasaria. The difference between light and dark was the difference between black and white. And Irinika had made sure that every rumour she heard of Allasaria, she would be the opposite of. It was just Fate’s Blessing that the only who loved Allasaria were the unwashed masses of plebeians who cared for aesthetic value and nothing else. There was not a single Divine who would die for Allasaria on this world.
“My my Fortia.” Irinika’s tone curled. “You do know I have to press further now.”
“You’re more palatable.” Fortia said dryly. “It’s…” There was mirth in her voice. “Well, you do live up to your reputation.”
“What is a Divine who does not please? Even the Goddess of Hatred has a gentle stroke to her.” Irinika said. “We do wish to be worshipped, do we not?”
Fortia laughed again. “You would not get along with Maisara whatsoever!” She calmed herself. “But you’re something else. Honestly… you really can’t be like this all the time.” Irinika fell into the shadow on Fortia’s right and appeared in the shadow on her left. Her dress slithered over the ground when she moved, a black mark on which Fortia stood for a moment, as if she was standing on sheer nothingness.
“Ladies keep their secrets.” Irinika said. “Although I do declare your reputation is closer is closer to pillarhood than ladylikeness.”
“Pillarhood isn’t even a word.”
“Word was not a word before I invented it.”
“You did not invent the word word.” Fortia said.
“Did I, or did I not? I guess we’ll never know.”
“I was there when scripture started developing.” Fortia said, she raised her arm. Her spear, taller than herself, as tall as Irinika materialized in her hand, she tilted it to the tricolour flag that had engulfed the world south of them. A black sky, all covered in ash, a swirling mixture orange and red and purple underneath, black again, for the ground hidden by the night. “I assume you are more than capable to not need to go underground for it? I’m in no mind to cower under stone just because of some poor weather.”
Irinika chuckled. They weren’t the exact same wavelength, but she could see why Fer liked this girl. That was the sort of attitude a Divine of such status should have exactly. “Oh proud Goddess of Peace.” Irinika took a step forward, she fell through her own shadow and reappeared a mountain in the darkness cast by a rock. Fortia was had moved, she still stood on that hill under which an Imperial Division cowered, but she was a Divine, and Irinika was a Divine, and Divines did not cower! “The only reason this cloud is a threat to our world is because there is because fate has limited me to only one!”
A wave of darkness, so black it was an erasure and an overwriting of reality. An expansion of utter null. “I move for nothing Fortia. Not kings, not queens, not armies, not Divines. Not demons, not angels, not apocalypse, not the end of the world! And certainly not for a mere case of poor weather conditions.”