Chapter 741 – Found
The inequality of power is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. It is a blunt cudgel that exists only for those completely lacking in it to have a target and an explanation which can be dragged out as the sacrificial offering to the altar of temporal, imaginary success until they return to their bed of failure. Amongst Divinity, this phenomena is exacerbated when we compare to how prevalent it is in humanity.
And yet it is even more aggravating when it rears its ugly head amongst Divinity. We have creatures such as Zerus, the God of Lightning, Alkom of the Sun, Tasaidien of Alanktyda, and they do what? They are so horribly content to sit and rot and never advance that one has to call it a disease. Yet, most infuriatingly, when something is said to them, we shall the hear the usual script: ‘Oh Allasaria is far too grand’, or maybe they will choose a backup target: ‘But I am nowhere near as good as Fortia or Maisara or you, Helenna, for this job.’
At least with some Divines, like Elassa, we see the ambition and the dream. The woman wishes to teach and teach is all she does. She wishes to push magic to grander and grander heights and she has no interest in the happenings of the world outside Arcadia. Whereas one can consider it stupid, or lacking in ambition, there is something to be respected amongst the single-mindedness. One can call Elassa a whole host of insults, from stupid to ignorant to lonely, and they can all be correct but one thing that one may never call Elassa is slothful. The Goddess of Magic is everything but.
But a case like Zerus, like Alkom, like the idiotic lesser spirits that Allasaria wishes to give permanent residence to on the Divine Mountain, are lazy. Whereas all sins are ridiculed rightfully, sloth is the passive killer. And being the passive killer, it is typically passed up upon. Puritans and moralists will endlessly whine about lust and envy and pride, and they will write off sloth as the child’s sin.
Then if it is the child’s sin, all those who are slothful should not be treated like adults. The White Pantheon has many breakpoints, if it were not made in haste, we could have definitely sorted these issues out because they galvanized themselves into the structure. The Ancient Forces, that is Zerus & Alkom, although the former is pushing for his wife to also be included in the official structure, are two such break points that will, sooner or later, reveal their ugly heads.
Respect is required for any organisation to function. Respect is not earned through equality of outcome, for I, nor Kavaa, nor even Saranael, will ever be as powerful as Elassa or Allasaria, but rather respect is earned through the equality of effort. A lack of effort on display is all the confirmation I need that I am dealing with a worthless soul that should just be snuffed out or left to the dogs.
I can deal with those flat out better or undeniably worse than me. Frankly, I do not envy or pity either of the two groups. But I cannot deal with this farce that Zerus is supposed to get a seat on the council and a vote equal to Maisara’s, Fortia’s, Elassa’s, Allasaria’s, Leona’s or mine.
- Excerpt from “Pantheon Diplomacy”, written by Goddess Helenna, of Love.
Princess Belili slid around the wall as she eyed what was happening outside from her view on the upper floor of the massive farmhouse that had been requisitioned by her and the succubi. It was a good spot, open fields all around them so that they could see if anything tried to approach and a few on one of Rancais’ largest motorways. Three lanes for cars one way and another three lanes back. There was honking and shouting over there.
The fact there was chaos was almost meaningless, there was always chaos happening in Rancais. This country had been prime territory for infiltrating into, and easily the most vulnerable of all the Imperial Epan holdings. The nation had been torn apart by war, then by civil war, then by the evacuations from Arika followed by the evacuations from Marseille. It was a miracle that any sort of government could exist here in the first place. But it was not normal chaos though.
Whether it was police cars chasing hooligans or military convoys trundling their way south, traffic jams in either direction or reinforcements coming, then more than enough of it was sent along that highway towards the west of the home Belili had claimed with her gang. Reports could be written and sent back, although they had brought a golden coin with themselves so that Mammon could be kept in on the loop. Even if the humans figured out how to stop flame magic from communicating with back home, they would not be able to stop Mammon from simply looking at the written word.
So now, as Princess Belili stood and watched, she could only narrow her eyes in concentration as she stared at two, cars come to a stop on the highway. Blacks cabs, obviously expensive. Belili had spent enough time in the Empire to be able to know when a car was cheap or expensive even if she could not tell the brand. “What do you think Princess?” Succubi Azaela asked from beside’s Belili.
“I’m unsure.” Belili peered away from the window and immediately felt her mind begin to spiral off into the dreaded worst case scenarios. Those were farcical though, and they would not happen. They were not being tracked by the SIS or the IBI. This location was still safe. And even if they were... Belili would not let them happen. She saw Azaela standing there, one of her succubi handmaidens who had followed her into the Empire.
The woman was tall, taller than human women, height had always been a difficult tell to overcome. Azaela’s horns were closer to black than grey, but they weren’t the pitch that signified the low status plebeian masses. Belili’s own horns were almost white, a dirty ivory that did not get brighter no matter how much she polished it. “I think we’re running out of time.” Azaela said, although of course she would. The woman had been terrified since the moment they had gotten to Arda, much less the Empire.
“Even if they attack us now.” Belili stopped herself from demonstrating with her magic. That was one way to get discovered on the spot and for no reason as well. “We don’t even know if they’re looking at us.” Belili turned away from her handmaiden. The other woman pulled her coat around herself tighter and shivered.
“It’s the SIS.” Azaela jumped when Larinette slammed through the door screaming, another black-horned succubi. Larinette was the official occupant of this home on the books. She wore the clothes of today’s common fashion, jeans and a shirt with enough tightness to make men turn their heads. “What should I say?”
Belili stopped herself from saying they didn’t know for certain if it was the SIS or not. That pair of cars had parked themselves in the middle of the highway and no one had even gotten out. That was the SIS for sure. “Princess! Princess!” Azaela said. “We have to get out of here, if it’s the SIS.”
“If it’s humans, we can take them.” Most of the losses that came to the succubi were from ambushes. The entire reason that they weren’t fighting clean field engagements is because Belili’s succubi would annihilate them. Belili felt her hand curl and forced it straight. But the best way to guarantee survival was to not engage Imperial troops in the first place.
“It could be Divines.” Azaela said. She lay down on the floor, then shimmied herself to a small hole. The entire house was filled with these. For allowing the succubi to look out in secret to making sure that they didn’t drown themselves in hot air should a fire start. And the SIS have been using that tear gas too, Belili didn’t know if holes in the walls would do anything, but it was better than nothing. It had to be. Larinette took a deep breath when she heard it, Belili went still.
Down below, there were more footsteps. This was Belili’s court after all. Succubi trained in the arts of fighting in addition to infiltration. Flameseerers, the whole lot. They had even gone ahead and acquired Imperial weaponry. That wasn’t too difficult since apparently every other person in Rancais was armed. This home alone had two rifles from two different wars. “If it’s Divines…” Larinette trailed off.
Belili finished for her. “If it’s Divines we can’t handle, we’re fucked.” She said. “If it’s someone we can, then maybe things are different.” That was the simple truth of the matter. If the Empire sent Elassa, Fer, Maisara, Neneria, Irinika, they were still alive but they were dead. Belili knew she could not stand against that category of Epan Divine. At that point, the only left to do was beg. “I don’t think it will be. Most of them a tracked.”
Most of them, and them being tracked meant that they were somewhere for the imminent day. Half of those Divines could cross the continent in a matter of days all by themselves. “They’re just parked there.” Azaela said again. She had one eye closed, the other pressed up against the hole in the wall. Her tail swished from side to side. “It can’t be for us though, they wouldn’t…” Her hopeful words slowly faded away.
“I know.” Larinette said from Belili’s other side. The Tartarian princess returned to the window, transformed only part of her face, and swallowed heavily out of fear. No one was coming yet. “It could be-“ A door opened.
“Azaela.” Belili gave the order quickly. “Go run downstairs and tell them not to shoot unless we get shot at first. Understood?”
“Understand Goddess.” Azaela rolled onto her back, then umped up onto her feet in one smooth movement. “And bring me a gun.” That couldn’t be gone without. Tartarian magic was undeniably powerful but these Ardans could kill with the squeeze of a trigger. There was not a magic on Tartarus that could deal with the speed of that. Azaela thumped down the stairs, taking them two out a time. Belili returned to her window. Her free hand collected all her hair and held it away from the winter so that the cloak of snow would not give her away when it began to shine in the morning. “What do you think Larinette?”
“I think nothing of it.” Larinette said. “If anything else was happening here, I would just suggest retreat. Even now, I want to suggest retreat but…” She her voice faded into nothing for a moment. Belili didn’t have to ask, Larinette continued for herself. “But what the fuck are they doing? Are we going to risk a retreat when they’re not here for us?”
“What do you think they could be here for?” Belili asked. One of the men who had left the cars walked around in a black coat complete, complete with cap, as he smoked. He gave two quick glances at the farmhouse in the distance, then walked back around to the passenger side of the vehicle so that he could start sending the civilians on their way. Those had to be the SIS, no one else carried such an air of command save for Divines.
One, two, three. A dozen cars came through. Then a van. Another vehicle, eight-wheeled but with a large turret on its back that Belili had thought was just another vehicle heading towards the front instead made a sharp turn and parked on the grass. “Larinette.” Belili said quietly.
“That’s for us.”
“That’s for us.” A white van, with no windows nor any stickers or insignia on the side turned and joined the pair of the cars on the side of the motorway as the rest of the vehicles were beginning to drive past. “They’ve brought a whole company.” She whispered quietly. “They all look SIS though.”
“SIS shoot in the back.” Larinette whispered quietly. “What should we do princess?”
Malam waited patiently, her hands curved around a bottle of vodka that she refused to share with the people on her team. Frankly, it was her wine and no one had been stupid enough to ask if they could. The Goddess of Hatred sighed and then took a deep breath when she tasted fresh air. Someone from the outside opened the van door for them.
A more powerful Divine would be able to do this effortlessly, but Malam was not a more powerful Divine, but she would still try to be effortless about it. The Goddess of Hatred turned back towards the van and picked up her own gun, it was much too heavy for any of the humans to even consider passing to her.
Time to kill the creature who had stolen her face.