The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]

Push them down once, and they rise again. Push them down again, and they rise once more. There is no such thing as defeating the human spirit, that is the lesson to take out of Tyranny, out of Magocracy and out of Heroism. No matter how effective a system is, no matter how many of them we kill, no matter how utterly we manage to extinguish their flames of hope, they still manage to create some spark out of nowhere.

I can prove this phenomena of miracles exists amongst those that hold spirits materially. In fact, I am the proof of it. Divinity is born from no parent, it simply appears on Arda when the time calls for it. When enough sparks have made a fire, and when that fire becomes too large for a spirit to hold, a Divine powered by nothing but incarnates.

Allasaria talks of Pantheon Peace as if it will break the human soul, or as if she will be able to rewrite the true of nature of humanity. It is much what Maisara has said about Epans: Epans make very good subjects, until they don’t. The discovery of Paraideisius and Tartarus, two other worlds more capable at doing battle than us, has managed to temporarily quell the flame of human spirit with its horror.

It may be coming sooner than we all expect, or it may take longer than any of us dare think, but eventually, the undefeatable spirit that Arda grants its beloved children will once again ignite a spark from nowhere.

The Empire had a fighting chance against the White Pantheon and there are many who talk of the Great War as a lesson. It was, although I do not believe the lesson that Allasaria tries to teach is not the lesson that Arda has been taught.

A single Ardan Empire had a fighting chance against Paraideisius, Tartarus and the White Pantheon together. Allasaria fails to see it, and I can only see it in retrospect, after we have defeated Arascus.

The other worlds are not something we have to live in eternal fear of.

Eventually, the spark will reignite. And Allasaria will not be happy, no matter how much she tries to shepherd humanity into her hypocritical utopia.

- “The Maintenance of Morale”, written by Goddess Fortia, of Peace.

Fresh blood. Fresh, devastatingly beautiful blood. As crimson as Anassa’s sorcery, the beautiful blood spilled out when a fresh cub was born, it flooded down Fer’s throat as the battle raged around them. Fer drank greedily, as if it was the first meal she had ever been fed after a thousand years of starvation. The ships from the west launched another set of missiles into the air. They burst out from their launch bays, climbed a dozen feet into the air, then switched their engines off to turn in free fall before blasting off south. Another torrent of fire shimmered through the air above Maisara and Fer, towards a pair of knights that were making a run for it. Fortia’s bronze hair would pop out from her cover for a split second, then it would dive back down as Asmodeus launched yet another arrow towards the Goddess.

And Fer cared for none of the devastation or the combat. Her teeth scraped at Maisara’s wrist as Of Order watched silently, Of Order’s own healing would try to clot the wound almost immediately. Fer had never come across that problem before. “You’re mangling me.” Maisara hissed dryly, then sat back down. “How much longer?” Fer drank and drank, not letting a single drop trail down her chin or out of her mouth. Never had she tasted blood that felt so cold and refreshing, normally it burned like alcohol on the way and warmed her up immediately. Drinking from Maisara was like drinking from a mountain stream of the clearest freshwater.

Another green flare, then a blue one. Fer knew she knew what that meant, but she couldn’t recall it. She blinked at the light and finally let Maisara’s arm drop from her mouth. More artillery, Raptor One and Raptor Two screamed overhead, dropping bombs at almost supersonic speeds, their momentum carrying the massive ordnance deep into enemy ranks. Fer heard the explosions, her ears tried to turn and angle. Tried to, Fer was sure they didn’t from the angle they caught the sound at. Maisara looked bite mark in her arms then sighed and shook the blood off as the wound began to close. It hadn’t been mangled after all, what was all the complaining about? Fer had make a clean incision.

Fer tried to stand up. Her stomach twisted and curled. And Fer realised why it had been so cool in the first place. “It…” Fer began, then blinked. Was she speaking slower?

“What?” Maisara asked. Fer stuck her arm out before Maisara.

“Break.” Fer said. Maisara looked at Fer, those silver eyes questioning everything she knew in this world. She smelled half of sweet curiosity, half of wonder, half of some sickly smug pride even in this situation.

“Did I just poison you?” Maisara asked incredulously.

“Break.” Fer helplessly threw the back of her arm against Maisara’s chest. It banged against her silver cuirass. “Kick.” Fer took a deep breath. “Start.” And another deep breath. Was she drunk? Seriously?

“Kickstart.” Maisara said, then looked down at the arm. Maybe someone else would question it. Or try to press Fer. Kavaa would probably try to look smart and diagnose the body immediately. Dad would take her to a safe place before anything. Fortia and Kassie would be off making tactical decisions. But Maisara did nothing of the sort. Her hands wrapped around Fer’s wrist, gripped tightly and then twisted.

Snap.

A moment later, Fer felt her body scramble to heal. Every strand of muscle screamed out for energy and her stomach seized, then gave up on its resistance. Maisara’s blood set alight, the boundless energy of the Goddess of Order, one of the three most powerful Divines standing on this world, crashed through every cell, it flooded every vein, it swept into Fer’s mind.

Fer had never felt something so terrifyingly simple in its power.

She shifted, tried to stand and then collapsed onto Maisara’s shoulder.

Blood, fresh blood. Of so much power that it dwarfed everything Fer had ever known. It crashed through her, ricocheting off her own strength, then crashing back out, as if it was unable to be absorbed. And then back into her. And then away from her. And back in. Fer felt her stomach twist and curl and try to expel Maisara’s essence through the way it came. Fer swallowed it back down. Maisara herself had declared it wouldn’t kill, she could deal with this.

Snap.

Fer opened her eyes to a world of nothing. She was sitting down, as she been with Of Order and then realised she was watching herself. Her hand moved to her side. A finger was twisted back and Fer looked down at her hand quizzically. It was being broken, but she didn’t even feel it.

Snap.

The inferno in her blood blazed hotter than the sun, worse than any scorching desert heat. Fer watched her finger heal immediately, and then someone tried to break her bone once again. She put some tension into her muscle, nothing moved this time. Something strained, a grunt or a sigh, and then gave up.

The air slapped Fer’s cheeks and knocked her down. An echo in the wind. “WAKE UP YOU STUPID BRUTE!” From somewhere close by, or far off. It didn’t sound panicked whatsoever, just exhausted and tired. The voice low. “FER!” Maisara cried out again, Fer blinked, this time, she heard something else there. Surely it wasn’t desperation. “FER! PLEAS£! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!” She yelled again. “FER! COME ON! WE HAVE TO GO DRINK! AND SIT! AND YOU PROMISED! I PROMISED!” Surely that wasn’t…

A sniffle.

Fer forced her eyes open again, for real this time. She looked down to see Maisara at her stomach, squeezing as tight as she could. “I’m not going to kill you, I promised Fer. Wake up and get up. It was your idea.” She hadn’t been screaming in the first place, Fer could hear Maisara’s heartbeat, she could hear the slushing of sludge from ship turbines far away. The rolling of chains and anchors. Splashes, men barking orders. The click of a gun magazine from straight ahead. Heavy breathing into a helm. More heartbeats, not just Maisara’s. The wind was a howling breeze, the sky a blinding blue.

“I’m awake.” Fer whispered.

“Finally.” Maisara said and got up. She hid it well, but Fer caught the tiniest edge of a tear that a blink smothered back into the eye. A microscope would be required to catch it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Fer took a deep breath. “Do you know what we’ve done?”

“You drank my blood.” Maisara said. “And you were out for half a minute.” Fer chuckled. That was a very Maisaran answer, it fit though. Whether it was the moment or the fact Maisara’s blood was streaming power through her body, she appreciated it. “Can you fight?” That deep tone of hers was stretched out like the ocean. The hairs on Fer’s neck stood up. She looked up. An arrow was flying past them, she looked up and saw one of Asmodeus flashes of darkness that travelled almost instantly.

Before she had to rely on her instincts to dodge. And now, she saw the perfect black shard leave a trail of burning flame which set fire to the air for an instant. It shot past them, into the chest of an Imperial Knight in his suit of silver and blue. The man didn’t even scream as he was knocked back and a hole devoured in his chest by the blackfire. Of Beasthood stood up. “Fer?”

“I can fight.” Fer said it slowly, to try and match Maisara’s speed of talking. She timed her words to the heartbeats.

“FER!” Fortia screamed from behind. “STOP!”

“That’s Fortia for you.” Maisara said. She waved back, then made some hand motion that Fer didn’t recognise, probably their own sign language.

“NO!” Fortia screamed. “NO! FER! STAY! HELP IS COMING!”

“I assume you heard her.” Maisara commented dryly from her position. “And I can’t dodge him so I’m not going with you.”

“You are.” Fer patted her stomach. “In here, you are.” Maisara huffed and shook her head as Fer stepped around and out from the defensive barrier of the collapsed greater demon, its head was missing, taken off by Fortia’s spear. And finally, Fer saw the mass of demons that were charging. Explosions still rolled through their ranks, bringing casting them upwards, Fer smelled the fresh blood on them. Felt the heat of fire and the heat of bodies even from this far away. Their hisses and curses and jeers towards her.

“FEEEERRRRRRRRRR!!!!” Fortia screamed, Fer’s ears caught the shifting of the wind, her skin the change in air pressure and wind, and she realised what had just happened. In the span of a heartbeat, her hand shot out to her side, where the hairs on her arms told her the spear would pass by. Her fingers closed around a heavy bronze pole, the sonic boom from Fortia’s location finally caught up.

Fer dropped Fortia’s spear onto the rocks, it clattered once, then dematerialized. Even from here, she could hear the woman’s stunned heartbeat. That was Maisara’s power through and through. She heard the hearts in front of her, a mad flurry of filthy, pitter-pattering rain come down. Fortia stopped her shouting as Fer tracked the flames suddenly sprouting from the demonic ranks to come at her. The ground was already heating up, pillars of fire would out of this location in a few seconds. A missile slammed into the centre of the horde, felling one of the massive greater demons. A volley of artillery was caught in mid-air and the rounds ignited.

Fer’s eyes found the demon with his almost white horns immediately. Crafty little thing, he was standing dressed in black. Obscured in the shadow of a greater demon whose only job was to seemingly stand there. Asmodeus wore his black armour, some suit of plate that looked fashioned onto leather. A cape of darkness hid the shape of his body, his form disappeared into its silhouette. And his eyes, perfectly black, were fixed on her.

For a moment, Asmodeus was taken aback. Fer took a step forward, her eyes not even bothering to glance towards the massive of demons that were roaring at them. The filthy little invaders that had breached Arda’s natural order were worse than a cancer, at least that had a place on this world. Every time a demon took a step on Arda’s surface was another moment that this world was forced to bow down in humiliation. Fer licked her lips. Maisara did have a tasty style of thinking, didn’t she? Fer had always assumed it would be more reserved than it was.

She watched as Asmodeus prepared another shot in his longbow. The sliver of darkness materialized within its grasp.

The Prince of Darkness released.

Fer saw the absolute nothing fly at her, much faster than the flames from Tartarian pages. It was almost pretty, like a diamond that absorbed the light.

She turned, twisted on foot, and was sure that she locked eyes with Asmodeus. His bolt shot right past her, and into the ground, carving out a smooth, small sphere of an indent on the landbridge. Fer caught sight of Asmodeus again. Another arrow was in his grasp, already pulled to release.

He saw her, already ready, and she could practically smell the confusion on him as to how she was already ready.

Fer licked her lips. Maisara’s blood did make these demons seem disgusting, that was certain. But Maisara’s blood was only Maisara’s blood and Fer was Fer. To her, they smelled of prey.