The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]

There are many curses that are written about in and detailed throughout history. They range, like all things do, although the most famous of curses would most likely be vampirism and lycanthropy. Although they were transformative in nature, they can be used to eloquently describe the curse and contrast it with merely an unpleasant enchantment.

Something like a spell of fatigue is not a curse, even though it is debilitating, because it can be explained with the basic methods of spellcraft. It can be reasoned with, it can even be counter-acted. Curses are different, in that they latch directly onto the soul instead of the body. Soul-work is more common amongst sorcerers compared to mages, although the start is still in its primitive stages. I assume it will remain in that stage for millennia, until a method of soul manipulation is found which does not risk the losing of one’s mind.

Every I shall write from here is purely theoretical and unproven, however it is documented to have happened. There have been curses broken, although rarely through the conscious use of magic. True love’s kiss, supposedly, can be used to overpower a curse. How that true love is found, no one really knows. Prayer to the Divine in general is said to be able to break curses although again, the documentation of such events is sparse. A priest or monk of any Divine will perform their tasks in secret to expel the sin that claims the soul.

The art of cursing within magic is a slow one, it is deliberately left untrained and unexplored because curses are one of the spells that do not differentiate between forms of life. If anything, they seem to target Divinity with even more malice than they do humanity.

Of course, there are some curses that are unprovable as well. Curses so specific that they may as well be used as an excuse rather than as a threat to life. Those curses may very well exist, and they may not. They are impossible to prove. In a perfect world, I would believe them immediately, but there are enough souls on Arda who will blame a personal failure on a curse that they cannot fix.

- Excerpt from “The Different Schools of Magic”, written by Goddess Elassa, of Magic.

Arascus approached Irinika, his daughter saw him, she was smoking in the middle of a camp. Even though Esberia had been reconquered, the land had not quite been pacified. There were still caves with demons about, nothing major, but there was no reason to risk the lives of men when the Goddess of Darkness could simply destroy all who stood in her way with the snap of a finger.

That was the general reason, although Peacekeeping was merely the cover. With both Kassandora and Fortia serving as the Goddess’ pair of bosses, Irinika had a lot to do. And, from what Arascus had heard and from the expression he saw painted on Irinika’s dace, Of Darkness was not happy about the situation whatsoever. Irinika stood near her tent, which was positioned close enough to the centre of the camp that Irinika was always available when she was needed, but away from the general straight paths of the Imperial military installation that soldiers would have to go out of their way to actually walk past the Goddess of Darkness.

And no one did. Irinika stood with her pipe in one hand, looking at the landscape. The rocky Esberian hills had been stripped of flora and fauna by the passing of the Ashfront. Trees and forests had not been burned so much as they had simply been deleted from existence. The winds of the ashfront had uprooted tree and brush and grass, the fires of it had scorched them to nothing, and whatever remained of that nothing was buried under the ash.

And then the ash in the sky had been turned to diamonds, and it had buried everything that remained under another layer of material. This one gleamed with refracted light, the whole landscape, the hills, from one end of the horizon to the other, seemed to gleam and twist and turn with every step that Arascus took. But he wasn’t here to gaze at the wondrous sight of a land recovered so magnificently the Empire literally bestowed it with endless wealth.

No, he was here for his daughter. Irinika smiled at Arascus as the God approached. Her shifting black dress, a conjuration of her own powers rather than a real material, settled down for a moment. The soldiers in the orderly camp all pretended to be at ease, or bored, or disinterested as if they were used to Divinity. Arascus may have very well believed that last part, but he also knew that a meeting between Of Pride and Of Darkness always draw curious gazes. Even Iliyal had pretended not to be interested when he very obviously was. “Oh my my.” Irinika said in that haughty tone of hers. Arascus knew what it meant already when she acted like this around him: profound and deep annoyance. “To what do I have the pleasure of your company?”

Arascus didn’t get straight into what he wanted. Maybe with other people, he would operate that way, but not with one of his daughters. “I see you’re in a good mood.”

Irinika took a long inhale of her pipe and let out a mirthless laugh. “Am I that easy to read?”

“I just know you.” Arascus said. Well, that was true, he knew her. But they still had their ancient secrets. Irinika had never pressed him on his, he had never pressed her on hers. Sleeping dogs should be let to lie.

Irinika looked down at the suitcase in his hand. “I see you’re here for an occasion.” She said.

“I may be.” Arascus said. “How is Esberia going?” He could tell she wanted to complain. It was in her posture, the fact one arm was crossed at her chest, her casual lean back. The large clouds she was smoking into the air.

“We have won and secured Esberia.” Irinika said. “The landbridge is locked down by Olephia. I am clean up. Ana is too but I am better than Ana, so I do more work.” She looked at Arascus dryly. “Guess what I had on the docket this morning?”

“What?” Arascus asked.

“Minesweeping.” Irinika said. “Because apparently, someone, and I don’t even know if it’s bleeding heart Fortia or ever-efficient Kass deciding this and that’s the worst part, but one of them decided that sending the troops to mine-sweep themselves in a risk. So they’ve sent me instead. Because apparently, I have nothing better to do than float in the air and ruffle the ground like I’m some old grandmother ruffling the hair of my grandchildren.” She finished quickly with a scowl.

Arascus let her keep on ranting. “Yesterday, apparently a Tartarian portal was spotted so I was sent down to clear the area after an investigation.” Irinika gave Arascus a dry look. “Three demons in a cave. Three of them. But oh no, they have to send me. If I don’t go, then someone could get hurt and we can’t have that, can we?” The Goddess of Darkness took another deep drag of her pipe. “But that’s enough complaining and actually dad. I don’t want to talk about it and you don’t want to listen to it. What’s with the case?”

Well, Arascus simply liked the sound of Irinika’s voice but he wouldn’t press her to complain more. If she was done, then she was done and there was no need to run through her grievances. “Paida has returned from the Aris Expedition.” Arascus said, he nodded to the tent. “We should talk over this inside.”

“Very well.” Irinika said, she took another deep inhale of her pipe, then turned around. The entrance to her tent was a piece of heavy grey cloth. A tendril of darkness quickly flicked from Irinika’s shadow, held it open for Arascus and Of Darkness to enter, and then slithered back into the woman’s shadow. “Welcome to my chateau, my abode!” She raised her arms into the air theatrically, spun them in a grand circle as if to try and make spectacle of how barren her tent actually was, and walked to the centrepiece in the middle: a bare desk with a chair on either side. A bottle of sparkling champagne sat on it, a pile of loose tobacco next to it. That was the room’s most defining feature, save for the smell of tar and smoke everywhere. Irinika pulled out her lighter as sat down and placed it in the middle of the table. “Look, I’ve not lost it, this is still the one you gave me.”

“I’m glad.” Arascus said as he took the flimsy chair on the other side. Irinika didn’t even have a bed to lie down, or a cabinet for drinks, or any personal comfort. He watched her finally take the pipe out of her mouth, flip it upside down, and tap her finger on the bottom to get the ash out. “Inside?” Arascus asked.

“Well it’s a tent.” Irinika said. “Not my home. What? Am I supposed to go outside?”

“You don’t smell it?”

“Fer introduced me to something here.” Irinika leaned back on her chair, she flicked her head to the side, her shadow moved with her. It darted across the floor as if it had just been flung by the flick of a paintbrush, then it slithered into one of the dark bags in the corner of the tent and retrieved a can. Arascus recognised the deodorant immediately, Fer used the same one. “Do you know what this?”

“What it actually is or what Fer calls it?”

“I only know what Fer calls it.” She obviously wanted to say it. Arascus let her make the joke.

He sighed heavily. “Alright Iri. What does Fer call that?”

“A shower in a can!” Irinika exclaimed and then exploded into a heap of laughter at her own joke. “And it covers up the smell of tobacco.” Arascus could see how well it did, considering that the air in this room had long since gone past the stage of smelling-like and entered tasting-of tobacco.

“Great.” Arascus said and put the suitcase on the table. He flicked it open. “There’s something we need to talk about.” He said slowly. “Or rather, something I assume you will know about.”

“Oh?” Irinika asked.

Arascus brought out the photos that Paida had taken, and the copies of what Elassa had shown him. This God in a throne, this great tree, the both of them being chopped down. The crowd around them. “These are images found all over Epa. Paida found them under Aris.” Arascus directed his attention to Paida’s photos and tapped them with his finger. Arascus saw Irinika’s face and knew immediately he had been correct. The woman was drowning in what could only be described as recognition. “You know what that is.”

“I’ve seen it before.” Irinika said slowly. “It’s from…” She sighed, put her pipe down on the table and shook her head.

“It’s from the Age of Gaia.” Arascus said.

“The art itself is from Gaia, that’s true.” Irinika said.

“I know you don’t like talking about it.” Arascus said. “But there’s a city of monsters underneath Aris. Paida saw them. We need to know what they. These diagrams are all over there.”

Irinika took a deep breath and stared down at the table. “I know what it is.” Irinika said slowly and carefully. “But I do not know how much of it I am allowed to share.”

Arascus blinked and stared at her. “What?”

“That’s the issue.” Irinika said. “I don’t know if Iniri or Neneria have the same pact placed upon them, but I do.” She looked at Arascus. Maybe there was a reality in which Arascus didn’t believe her wholly. He didn’t know if that reality was here, she was his daughter and he was certain that Irinika, of all people, would never lie to him. But he didn’t even need the trust, the moment the word pact left her mouth, Arascus remembered when he had to chisel his name into the King’s Pact. He couldn’t believe he had never seen this before. Now that he thought on how evasive Irinika was every time she was asked, it made perfect sense. “That is the issue.”

“What about things you learned before…”

“I said I could not speak of what I had learned.” Irinika said, she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. She sighed with relief. “Alright.” She said. “Let’s see.” That was more to herself than to him. “The diagram first appeared during the Age of Gaia, but what it shows is a pre-Gaian event.” She held her breath, then released it. “Does that help?”

“Any more?” Arascus asked.

“When I first saw it being made, it was done by humans.” Irinika said. She tapped to one of the photos of the sculptures that Paida had taken. The things that were made of crystal, and looked far too clean to be cut by hands. “This though, it was made…” Irinika stopped and looked up. “Well, it wasn’t made by humans.” She blinked, then shook her head. “And I’ve said enough.”

Arascus knew exactly what she was looking at. It was the same curse that he had received and that Anassa carried. He was certain of it. “Why have you said enough?” Arascus looked up at where Irinika had been looking, then above himself. It was just cloth ceiling of dark grey. It wasn’t even lit well, Irinika had a few meagre lamps in here, most of them were turned off.

“If I told you, you would say I’ve lost my mind.”

Arascus let the silence hold for a few moments before confirming it. “There’s a sword above your head.”

Irinika’s dark eyes grew wide, her normally pale cheeks turned bone-white, her fingers creased into fists and her voice was a trembling whisper. “How do you know that?”

“Because I have a sword above my head too.”