The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]

After the First Arascan War ended, many of the nobles who served on Arda returned, took the lessons from that planet, and founded their own Great Houses. Whereas there are none in this realm who can rival Emperor Leonifer and his family’s grip over the realm, Tartarus is far, far, far larger than Arda. Where if Arda united, it would not be difficult to control the entire world, on Tartarus, it becomes a borderline impossibility.

And whereas time has killed some of those great warriors of the past, many of them are still alive. And many of those were against the start of the Second Arascan War. Ultimately, I still do not agree with them. The disaster of Ringbreaking that is taking place right now is not a price we pay for the failure, but it is a debt that has come from a thousand years of interest that has been building up. The issue was leaving Arda in the first place.

They should have been put down back then, the designation of containment-world is not fit for the plague that is mankind. Eventually, all plagues escape. Ringbreaking is the price of a millennium of apathy, it is not the price of the defeat in the Second Arascan War.

And Ringbreaking is our salvation, in a way. If we gave them another thousand years, they would have torn our world apart.

Now, we can finally move ahead and do what needs to be done.

Do not look to the angels of Paradeisius, brothers and sisters. They shall wag their fingers with scorn, they will call us monsters, and they will silently thank us for eliminating this plague before it comes to their world too. Look to the next generations, who will be able to sleep knowing that the monster of Arda has been slain.

- Published in the “Ringbreaking Debates”, a set of pieces sponsored by Emperor Leonifer which discuss the crisis.

There was a saying back home: Proximity breeds contempt. Allasaria had never quite liked it, she had seen plenty of families that proved it long and lived long and happy and content lives. But likewise, she could never quite disprove it. The White Pantheon had fallen because of its mutual contempt and that contempt had, at least in part, been caused by their constant proximity to each other. And now, she could walk around this section of Paradeisius that the angels of this realm housed her in and quite honestly admit that she hated this realm.

But nevertheless, she was still here, and she still had a war to fight, and she was going to save Arda from Arascus, no matter if it took ten or twenty or thirty years to convince them. Every day, for a few hours, she would be sent back to her room. It was a containment quarter just as the demons had said. Of that, she was certain by now.

The architecture was beautiful, and it was empty. The buildings were tall, and they flowed into each other. Seemingly with no bottom or top, they just disappeared into a fog that that cut off any of their edges. The stones curved into one another like oceanic waves. There wasn’t a hard edge in place. Not in her room, she had been provided even if she did not need to sleep and it was something akin closer to a bath or a pool that forever bore a cloud she could lie on. It was almost like jelly, or jam. Allasaria assumed the angels liked it because they had wings, but she would prefer to sleep on the floor.

Or, better yet, she was a damn Goddess who did not have to sleep. So she would return back to this room, guided by one of the lower-ranking Archangels. Back in the past, Paradeisius had been fairly secretive about their organisation. The war meetings would have a representative, but that was it. Now that she had spent more than a year on this world, she could finally see how they were living.

For all their talk of grandiose morality and so on, they were just like Arda. Whereas back home, Divinity could be gauged with the glance of an eye simply by their height, here, it was simply about the amount of wings. They had their own individual races, and those individual races were castes, and those castes were set by how many feathers one possessed. Allasaria rolled her eyes, today, it was Chisovianka who had come to pick her up. It was always either her, or Krynichan, they had six wings each. Rapheum bore twelve. Myrynda and Zyw eight and ten respectively, although one wouldn’t know if they didn’t inspect closely. They blended into each other after a point. “For your meeting, Divine Allasaria.” Chisovianka always said the same thing. And she always bowed politely, her hands clasped in front of her hips, her eyes closed.

“Thank you.” Allasaria said. She stood up and began to walk. “I appreciate the time, even if you have to bored with me at this point.” She was trying to worm her way in with these low-class, peasants of archangels. If she could not convince Rapheum, then maybe they would be able to at least put in a good word for her and replace him with a more amicable being.

“Today, we are taking a different path.” Chisovianka’s massive wings unfurled from her back. She may have only had six, but one was enough to cocoon the Goddess of Light entirely. “There…” The angel began, then stopped herself. Then turned back to Allasaria. “I am not supposed to speak of it, Allasaria, so do not sell me out.”

“I will not, I promise.” Allasaria said. So they were getting somewhere, so the endless pestering was in fact working. Allasaria had expected it to. Even if not now, then maybe in the future… Well, if it was someone like Chisovianka making the decisions, Allasaria was sure that Paradeisius would be in the war right now.

“It is about the Second Arascan War.” Chisovianka said. “But I will not say anything more than that.” She smiled and bounced from leg to leg. The white robes she wore shifted like clouds, as if they had some delay on them compared to the angel’s real movements. “Do you want me to carry you today? Or will you fly yourself? It’s a fair distance.”

“I will fly.” Allasaria said. Once, she had accepted the carrying. Chisovianka held her by the arms as if she was a child even though they were almost the same height. Everything had to be experienced once, and once was enough to know that she did not like being treated like a child.

So Allasaria lifted off into the air and as Chisovianka looked up. Her wings shifted and shimmered, the smaller pair began to flap rapidly, the larger ones were for gliding. The Ardan Goddess of Light followed Chisovianka to a place she had never been in. Through one cloud layer which revealed a massive floating city of white marble. The buildings were all curved, just as Allasaria’s own containment area was, there was no way to tell where one structure ended and the next began. It had a smattering of faint orbs around it, like heatless suns that provided an endless day.

And past another city that was much the same. There were people living there. It wasn’t packed as tightly as modern Ardan cities, but it was crowded enough. Through a set of clouds that were more like fog. They liked the usual, bulbous shape of clouds, instead being massive splotches of grey in the white atmosphere. This world, Allasaria decided, was surreal. And, she decided, she did not like it whatsoever. She wanted grass and trees, and maybe a barking dog. Something that was…

That did not feel endless.

But the endlessness did end when Chisovianka led her to another infinite tower with no bottom and no top, instead just disappearing into the layers of clouds it was sandwiched between. “Why am I here?” Allasaria asked.

“This is our Protection Sector.” Chisovianka said. She looked to Allasaria who gave no reaction. “I think on Arda, you would call it something like war council offices?” Allasaria’s eyes immediately lit up. Now they were getting somewhere. She kept forced the smile off her face as she landed on the balcony that stuck out from that tower for over a mile.

They could have landed closer, but Allasaria did not complain. Finally, she came across the Paradeisius she remembered. The archangels in robes of metal, it was chainmail woven so finely it may as well have been cloth. The material was harder than steel too. And they had those sheathed, humming blades that had wrecked so much destruction upon Imperial Forces back in the Great War.

Chisovianka silently led Allasara through a massive set of doors, then set off into flight again. Allasaria followed without question, to another balcony. To a door that had six guards, three on either side. Then it must be important. “This is the room of the eye of the universe.” Chisovianka said.

“In Ardan?”

“I think…” Chisovianka stopped, her finger going to her lips as she thought. “Ahhh, it would be planning room? Operations room? It is where we see everything.”

Allasaria nodded and extended her arm to the door so that Chisovianka could lead the way. The archangel led the way, through one corridor where the walls had curving inlays that danced in the shadow. At least it was short, the journey had felt as if it had taken hours, although it was difficult to tell in the first place when most of it was just spent going through fog and cloud.

As Allasaria stepped into the room, she finally let herself breath a sigh of relief. It wasn’t home, that was for sure. Operations Rooms on Arda were not carved out of marble, nor had inlays of gold on them. But this was an operations room through and through. There was a massive in the centre that displayed various holographic balls. There were screens so clear they couldn’t be electronic. Magical maybe? Elassa would probably be able to tell. Not a cable was in place, nor any keyboards. The hundred or so beings in this room, angels and archangels of different castes, the former smaller than the larger, would move the images by just dragging their hand through the air.

And there was an honour guard. She didn’t recognise any of the faces, but she was sure that the faces recognised her. Gold, or yellow, or orange, or white entirely, eyes all narrowed when the saw the Ardan Goddess of Light stride in. “Archangel Rapheum.” Chisovianka said with a bow. “I have brought Goddess Allasaria.”

“Excellent job as always.” Rapheum said and Allasaria maintained her face flat. There was no reason to make a fuss here but what? It was a simple escort job. Through friendly territory at that. Excellent job? They had even been slow.

Allasaria walked towards the centre of the table. The honour guard kept their distance, but they circled around her. Winds were tucked back into them, palms rested on sword hilts. The faint hum of an angelic choir was present. Maybe that was how they powered everything here? Those choirs had been the most destructive elements of Paraideisius during the Great War save for the superpowered, unique people or the Skysplitter Blade. “Allasaria.” Rapheum said. “Welcome to the Room of the Eye of the Universe.”

“Archangel Rapheum.” Allasaria said. “I assume this is to do with the current conflict on my world.”

“It is and it is not at the same time.” Rapheum said.

“Oh?” Allasaria asked, she couldn’t hold the smile back. Maybe they had realised that Tartarus itself would not be able to defeat Arascus. Hopefully they would. They would need to join. And they would need to send her back because only Ardans could defeat Ardans.

“The Second Arascan War is already over.” Allasaria’s eyes went wide and her cheeks grew pale. Excuse me? What? Tartarus was already defeated? That quickly? What had changed back on her world when she had been away?

“So there is no Tartarus to negotiate with anymore?” Allasaria asked. She looked around the room, it was possibly the wrong thing to say. She could tell from their expressions and their sighs. What exactly was she supposed to say?

“I have told you all already.” Rapheum said. “That even she would not conceive of her world losing the war.”

“ARDA LOST?!” Allasaria shouted and took a step forward. Immediately, the guards at this location tensed. Allasaria did not care, another step. Rapheum raised his hand. “ARDA LOST AND YOU HAVE NOT TOLD ME!?”

“No Allasaria.” Rapheum said. “I predicted that you would not be able to conceive of Arda losing and you have proven me correct.”

“Did we win or no?” If her world had been reduced to ash… She stared at the Angels. Everyone in this room was dead. Their souls better be prepared to discover what afterlife would look like. The question of whether she could cut apart a world with her own power would be put to the test.

“We?” Rapheum said. “I have not realised you were on Arascus’ side.”

“You know what I mean!” Allasaria screamed at him. “Is Arda alive or is it not?” Rapheum sighed. The cohort flanking the Goddess of Light still again. Her golden eyes drilled boreholes into the Archangel. A year of asking, of pleading, of this constant humiliation, of being treated like a guest and for what? Arascus lost? Since when could Arascus lose? He was Ardan, was he not? And did he not have the White Pantheon by his side? Had Fortia and Maisara switched sides? And Kassandora? Where they all so worthless that they were defeated by a foreign world?

“Arda is alive.” Rapheum said, Allasaria hurried him along.

“Is Arda under foreign occupation or not?” She took another step forward. Finally the blades were revealed. Not drawn, but the guards closest to him gripped their golden sword hilts and pulled them out to reveal the silver blades. That metal immediately began to hum with the faint resonance of all their weaponry.

“Arda won the war.” Rapheum said. The jokes were over now. His tone said so. “Keep a hold of yourself Allasaria.” And she breathed a sigh of relief. The Ardan Goddess of Light lowered her hands and stopped marching upon the Archangel. So Arda had held. So they had won. So there was no issue.

“Then you have missed you chance for an easy victory already.” Allasaria pulled herself straight and met the eyes of any angel that watched her. The fools had given up their chance. Well done. So Arascus had secured Arda. Excellent. And now they had to dislodge the mountain from its spot. “It will not be impossible to defeat him, he has defeated the White Pantheon and-“

“Allasaria.” Rapheum interrupted her. “We are not playing this game anymore. Paradeisius is not going to war. We wanted to see how much your development, your so-called era of Pantheon Peace, what effects it had. Did you fundamentally change Ardan mentality?” He stared down at her. “And from the relief I see you have that Arascus won the war, I do not think we chose the correct person in the first place.”

“If it was not going to be me, it would have been Fortia or Maisara.” Ultimately, there was no one else who could lead the White Pantheon. Helenna may coup it, but she would have been couped by one of those two in return. That was what happened in history anyway when the Goddess of Love had suggested her democratic-Pantheon idea. “And you did not want them in the first place.”

“That is true.” Rapheum said. “We did not want Ardan Peace or Ardan Order to rule Arda. Those are both products of humanity. Light, we had assumed, was a universal constant.” Now, it was Rapheum’s turn to fix Allasaria with his cold gaze. Those golden eyes usually looked at her like a lost dog or something equally miserable that he could pity. Now though, he was looking at a rabid dog that had to be kept calm. “And it seems like Light does not shine on Arda in the same way that it does amongst the stars.” He sighed, then shook his head.

“That means what exactly?” Allasaria raised her voice again. The room stilled again. “What? You call me in here to say that Arascus had won? Well done, look at the fruits of your cowardice.” Let them moralize to her right now. They had been the cowards who had caused this issue in the first place by not listening to her when she came here in the first place.

“No Allasaria, I do not want to hear anymore of your Ardan wisdoms at this moment. Know that Arascus won the Second Arascan War, and know that we have learned your world has not changed from the pit it was a thousand years ago.” Rapheum finally turned to the side, the angels to Allasaria’s way slowly shuffled out of the way. “I have called you in here because you don’t seem to know what’s happening on your world. So I shall inform you. And because I wanted to show you what it looks like when your world secures victory.”

Rapheum raised his hand, then sighed. “What I will show will fundamentally change the way about how you see the universe Allasaria. But you have to learn it, because you otherwise, I do not believe your world will ever be able to leave the pit it is in.”

“Then show it to me. I already know, you will show me Tartarus destroyed. What did Arascus do? Did Olephia eliminate their reality? Did Elassa crack their planet? I am prepared.” They had tried to cover her world in ash. To choke out all life on Arda. If Arascus would not order it, then Fortia would. Or Kassandora would. They all knew each other, and when it came to matters of apocalypse, the only way to solve that was through an apocalypse of your own.

Rapheum dropped his hand, more of the angels moved out of the way until a screen was revealed. A screen of a world with a ring, a pentagon on its peak. “Do you know what that is?” Rapheum asked.

“I assume I am looking at Tartarus.” Allasaria said.

“Close.” Rapheum said. The magical screen looked almost three dimensional, as if she was right there, in space looking down at the dusty-yellow planet. The pentagon at the peak was a darker blue, ice maybe? Methane? Maybe that was Tartarus? It would not surprise Allasaria if the demons had devoured their own world in their endless avarice. But then it was rings with stripes, all the different shades of the desert, from sand that was pearly white to sand that was wet with rain. “That world, we call Shanaischara.” Rapheum said. “You know what it is.”

“I don’t.”

“You call it Cronus.” Allasaria’s eyes went wide as she stared at the sixth planet in the solar system. It could be seen with a telescope. The camera zoomed out further, she would have realised it immediately had they displayed the planet with its rings. A marvel of the universe, although unstudied. “The black ring that you consider a gap is not a gap. That is Tartarus.”

Allasaria’s eyes went wide, and before she could speak, she watched the Ringbreaking. A massive explosion, then another, a two spots in the ring. They more spots that formed two lines on the side that was bathed in the light of the sun. That pair of rings connected, they grew wider. Until it was a pair of tiny suns that burned for… Allasaria felt as if watching it for an hour. It had to be an hour at least. Cronus itself turned, its surface shifting under the massive force of the explosions. Even the spy device that the Paraideisians were using was knocked about, the screen suddenly shaking as a section of their world was flung away from them. “That is the product of what your people have done.”

“That is Tartarus destroyed.” Allasaria said.

“They have cut off their second arc to stop whatever infection your people sent through.” Of course it would be disease. Arascus had access to Baalka after all. What a way to kill a world. But Allasaria noticed it.

“Second?”

“The ring is a circle, a circle has arcs.”

“I know what an arc is Rapheum.” Allasaria said. Now, as it moved over Cronus’ white ring, she could see the silhouette clearly. It was rock. The inside was ablaze with magma, like the huge vein of a planet filled with red-hot blood. It cooled down quickly, and then it disappeared into the endless vacuum of space. Allasaria could only track its position because it hid entire constellations of stars behind it. “How many do they have?”

“Thirteen.” Rapheum replied. Oh. Allasaria let her hands fall to her side. Thirteen? And they only got one? That was it? Elassa splitting Arika to kill the Jungle had been more destructive in comparison then. As the section ring left the world. That was it? Worldbreaking had been worse, and Worldbreaking had lasted a century. Was this supposed to be impressive? “Do you have anything to say?”

Allasaria had plenty to say. Rapheum would like nothing of it. This is why the Paradeisians had included a ban on space travel just as Arda had developed satellites. She took a deep breath, remembering how they told her had been non-negotiable on the issue of Dwarven-Spyglasses that could see into the stars. Back then, she had thought it was only because they had wanted the moon to have that forward base to monitor Arda. “I…” Allasaria said. She had been betrayed plenty of times, but that had been by Gods, by Goddesses, even by humans. It was not difficult to be outwitted on Arda.

And here? She had not even thought about it then. The Goddess of Light took a deep breath, her eyes going back to Tartarus, arcs one through thirteen, excluding two. Rapheum was right, they had thought Cronus had rings when it had one, now that the shade of the second arc was gone, the white mist or ice or steam or pollution or whatever it was filled in the gap and would be clearly visible. They would be able to see the difference even on Arda. The incomplete shadow of a circle around the planet.

“What do you want me to say?” That was obviously not the correct answer.

“At this point, you’ve said enough. Even now, you try to scheme.”

“I am not going to weep for Tartarus.”

“No, you’re not.” Rapheum said. “I see that now. The issue was never about the fact that the Empire was cruel or vindictive or terrible. That is your Ardan default. The issue was that you were not at the top.” Allasaria remained silent.

“I am not going to weep for Tartarus, as said before.” She stared at that ring around the planet. “What do you want me to say? If I will not weep for them, I not going to plead their case.”

“The fact you operate under the assumption that a case needs to be pled in the first place is the issue.” Rapheum took a step away. “You may watch. We will not chase you out, Arascus will no doubt be out to kill you if you return. Asylum is granted where you remain, otherwise…” He turned to the screen, his face turning into a grimace. “I do not know, watch Arda’s victory, maybe you will learn something.”

Allasaria did not pull her eyes away from the screen.

Arascus had won.

Arda was secure.

But it was not about the God of Pride anymore. Nor about the Empire and the White Pantheon. What had been her entire world just this morning suddenly seemed so childish in retrospect. Tartarus was not in some other dimension, nor in another realm of reality. They were not even by another star. They were on, or around, Cronus. They shared the same sun. On a clear night, when the planets lined up, you could be looking at the hell they came from and not even realise it. And then she suddenly realised the next question. If they shared the Sun with Tartarus…

Well, she could not ask it anyway. Not now. They would probably kill her for it to protect themselves.

Had they never shown her the stars here because they had the same constellations?

Maybe she was not as far away as she had imagined herself to be.