The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]

I have made the same mistakes that you are currently making Rapheum. Your talks with Allasaria will get you nowhere, your pleas fall on deaf ears. I am certain she responds to you, I am certain you think you are making progress even. That is the same mistake I made back then, and then we watched a thousand years of their brutal peace. But they are Ardan! Everyone cried! But they are Ardan and how can we ever expect them to change overnight!

But no, they did not grow into peace. They did not embrace peace with open arms. They maintained it. They made peace into a garden, and then they used their own blood to water it. And as the rest of you fools sat here, and are now sitting here and discussing how to make them understand us, you delude yourselves into treating them like uneducated savages. No. The Ardans are many things, but they not uneducated and they are not savages.

Allasaria understands everything you say, if Fortia and Maisara, Elassa and Helenna, if even Arascus was here, or Kassandora, her most of all, or any other daughters were here, they would all understand. And they would look at you in the same way they look at cretinous fools that they have to stomach out of sheer hierarchy. They have engaged with me already, and I thought like you did. And I learned my lesson.

You thought they had changed? Leonifer’s attempted conquest of Arda, for let us not delude ourselves that the demons are innocent in this, did not set them back a thousand years back to an era of barbarity. Leonifer’s war merely pulled back the curtain on what Arda is. They embellished themselves with that maintained peace not for themselves, but for you. And the moment that peace got in the way, they revealed that they are the still the same Ardans that we fought with and against a thousand years in the past.

Do you know what they say about the Tartarian invasion? They call it an unworthy apocalypse. You are sitting here, trying to explain coexistence, to a world that denies the right of existence to an apocalypse. And then they showed Tartarus what an Ardan apocalypse looks like, and it is a thousand times worse than Ashen Skies.

Grab a hold of yourself.

I do not sit on the Conclaves anymore, but if I did, I would veto any attempt to interfere with the Second Arc. It is not our weapon, it is not our responsibility, it certainly is not our duty. Whatever Allasaria says to you is a lie, do not believe her for an instant.

- Archangel Ilahim’s, commander of the Paradeisian Forces on Arda during the Great War, message to Archangel Rapheum.

“Allasaria, it is time for you to go.” Rapheum had returned back to the room of the eye of the whatever-the-fuck it was, and Allasaria paid him no heed. She stood where she had been left, staring at the camera that followed the Second Arc until that camera turned off. For a while, she was alone. There was no doubt in her mind that she was under watch, but she was alone.

And for, she could think. There was no going back to Arda after this. Would Arascus kill her? She didn’t really know. Something made her doubt it, she had not killed him after all either. Neither had she killed Olephia or Kassandora or any of them. The only reason that the Great Hunts were allowed to exist was because the Guguoan Sects needed a target that would unite them. In a way, her presence was tolerated because the few people she killed every year was far better than a war which had a predicted casualty rate of millions.

And Civil War in Guguo would have been a greater disaster. They possessed their own natural Divines too, not Gods in the standard sense but great beasts and avatars of everything. At least on Epa, a building needed to be famous and named for it to incarnate a soul. Every Guguoan household apparently had a fox, or a cat, or dog, horse, snake, spider or some other deity that possessed enough power to safeguard them.

Epa would need to suspend Pantheon Peace and reinstitute conscription, once again armies would have to be drafted. Guguo would unite. Their greater deities would then be called upon, the dragons of their rivers and their mountains. And they would have a conflict equivalent to the Great War on their hands. Ultimately, it was a half-measure, but it had been an acceptable half-measure to leave Fer as bait for them to sharpen their blades.

Allasaria smiled to herself and wiped a tear that was bubbling in her eye as her mind wandered further on. Irinika was the only person that she really wanted to defeat, and Arascus himself of course, but both of those were different issues at this point. It wasn’t so much about ending either of them. It was about having Darkness admit that she was not the be-all end-all of Divine power. The woman didn’t have to kneel, she just had to avert her gaze and stop looking at Allasaria as if she was an impostor.

Arascus was even simpler. Allasaria had been his first choice for the Divine Family. And then, when he proposed the idea to her, when he asked her on whether it could be done, when she had sat and thought. The first thing she had replied to him with was whether First-Daughter was a position of rulership and whether he thought she wasn’t good enough to be a wife.

That had been the wrong answer.

He had not tried after that. Fortia and Maisara at least had the decency not to question him and just turn him down instead. Whatever their reasons, they had more right to share in Arda’s glory than she did now. Allasaria’s eyes found Cronus, the sixth planet, once again. It was the second largest in the system, the ring around it now completely unnatural. The double-white line around the planet was actually one now, and it had a smaller incomplete black ring within it. They must have realised on Arda by now, or maybe they were just starting to question it?

She hoped it was the former, Arascus would probably lead a crusade into space now. Probes would be sent out? How many more years until they found Tartarus? Was Tartarus even in the Solar System? Most likely. She wondered which planet. “Can I stay?” Allasaria asked. She didn’t even bother looking at the Archangel.

He sighed, Allasaria kept her eyes focused on those planets. Somewhere in between them, in that darkness of space that possessed nothing within it, was the Second Arc hurtling towards the Sun. So small, yet it would dwarf Arda already. “I’m just thinking.” Allasaria said quietly. There was a rustle of wings, a lifting of a hand.

“What are you thinking about?” Rapheum came closer to stand by her side.

“Nothing.” Allasaria simply didn’t want to talk about it. What was there to say to the angel? That the world she had assumed was the centre of the universe actually shared its sacred sun with Tartarus? Most likely with them? That she was thinking about all the mistakes that had been made in the past? That had she said yes to Arascus back then, how different the world would be?

That the Great War, which she had led, had been a mistake? That, she could probably say to him. He’d probably even agree with the statement. But they weren’t talking about the same thing if they agreed. The Great War had been a mistake because Arascus had been correct, because she had sold out Arda to other worlds. Fortia and Maisara had been against calling upon other worlds too. Look where calling other worlds got them?

Sitting on a rock, with allies that they hated and that hated them, forever barred from looking through the chain-link fence covered with nothing but a sheet opaque glass. Arascus would have smashed that glass the first chance he could. Arascus had smashed that glass the first time he could. One of the screens in this room had flashed red an hour ago, or maybe it was minutes, or maybe it was a day.

Arda had put men in orbit. A spaceship had left the atmosphere, made one full pass around the planet, and then deployed a smaller little vehicle that parachuted back down onto the surface of the world. It was a beautiful sight, all green forests, yellow deserts, blue oceans and white clouds, and now humanity witnessed it too. From far closer than Allasaria ever had. She could just stand and watch these cameras.

There had been an issue then, the angels returned, they talked in their own language, they simply glanced at her as she stood defeated. And then they left again. She was probably an issue here. They probably had plans to discuss, or maybe they would keep monitoring Arda. Or maybe it was some other thing, entirely unrelated to her world.

Allasaria did not care.

She couldn’t even move her legs. “No one ever thinks about nothing.” Rapheum said quietly. “But I will not push.”

No, he wouldn’t. Arascus would. Arascus would work it out. What was Allasaria supposed to even say to him? That the Great War had been a mistake, not because the conflict was terrible but because they fought the wrong enemy?

That was the issue.

She had been on that tiny little blue-green planet for so long that she never even assumed there were neighbours so close to her. And those neighbours found Arda first. And the first thing they did was try to hide themselves.

And she had helped them in that goal.

Allasaria took a deep breath and shook her head. “I…” Allasaria said. “I have nothing to say. Kill me.” For a moment, she hoped she would. In the next, she realised what sort of pacifist she was standing next to. Rapheum sighed and shook his head.

“I will not Allasaria. All souls can be redeemed.”

“On Arda, we question whether the artificial soul of a Divine is even a soul.” Allasaria said.

“Here, we believe that even the planet has a soul. That the rock and stone and metal and water coalesces into something greater.” Rapheum said.

“Arda doesn’t have a soul.” Allasaria said. “Arda is a rock. Split into lands and realms, with deities of all kinds, where humanity has never united. Even in our founding mythology Rapheum, even there, there were different lands. There isn’t enough unity there to create a single soul.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why the world has a soul.” Rapheum said. “I do believe your world has a soul, although you will not like what I have to say about it.”

“That it’s terrible?” Allasaria asked. “That it’s cruel? Malevolent? Vengeful? Disunited?” Allasaria chuckled to herself. “Spare me Rapheum, we don’t even consider that an insult back home.”

Rapheum, for once, did not reply with that condescending moralism of his. “Do you know what the theory of your world is here?”

“No.” Allasaria did not even want to hear it frankly. She did not care, and Rapheum was in no place to talk opinions about Arda. It did not matter if Paradeisius ruled the entire fucking universe and every fucking star in existence had their flag planted on it. Arda was Ardan, and whatever his opinion was on it, it was worthless in every damn degree.

“That on your world, you have had a spirit for far longer than most of us. And it is that spirit that keeps you so disunited.” Rapheum said. Good. The Spirit of Arda was grand then, and it was ever challenging, and it was stupid, but all of them were. But now that spirit would be able to smash the glass and see through the chain-link fence. And Paradeisius would learn why castles were built out of stone on Arda, and not out of mere deals and stipulations.

“So you say.” Allasaria whispered back. “I have never thought on it.” The stood in silence for a few more moments.

“The only reason we wanted you to leave was because this is our Operations Room.”

“I can’t understand your language anyway, it has changed since then.” That took him by surprise.

“You worked it out?”

“Helenna did. And when we defeated the Empire and recovered Malam’s text, she had cracked it too. Tartarian too.” Rapheum chuckled.

“You are a terrifying people Allasaria. Terrifying, truly.” He didn’t know how much of a compliment that was. Terrifying was good. Terrifying was safe. Terrifying was strong and powerful. “No, we’re not going to kick you out, there are other rooms we can use to discuss.”

“I assume I’m not part of those discussions.”

“It’s just our own administration.” Rapheum said. “We will leave Chisovianka with you, in case you wish for anything. Otherwise…” He turned and took a step away. “It is good to see that you’re taking something from it.”

“I don’t need the condescension Rapheum.”

“Apologies. Stay though.” And he left. And he took his host with him. And, as he had said, Chisovianka stay behind. The six-winged Archangel walked next to Allasaria and stared up at the screen that was of the whole Solar System.

“It’s a beautiful sight.” She said quietly. “When I saw it for the first, it just made me think how small I am.” Allasaria didn’t reply. She didn’t care. Small? Tiny? Miniscule? Insignificant? That was the conclusion this girl had from it? Insignificant was the default position on Arda. No one was born with importance. You either made something of yourself or someone significant made something of you.

Human, elf, dwarf, merman or Divine, it did not matter. Zerus, Alkom and Sceo were the perfect examples of it. They were insignificant. They’re only great claim to fame was having power that wielded by beings far more relevant than them. Helenna was powerless, and look at what she made of herself. Her world was insignificant? That was what they made of it? That it should accept its insignificance and roll over and die? So that when a less pleasant neighbour was discovered, they could all be swallowed by that next great enemy?

You either made yourself significant enough to be worthy for fate to grant you a future, or fate would give it to someone else.

Allasaria said nothing. She just stood and watched the stars. “I’ll be here if you want to talk.” Chisovianka said. “Otherwise, just pretend I’m not here.” Allasaria didn’t need permission for that. She just stood, stared, and she imagined what a world without a Great War would have been like. They probably would have reached Tartarus already. Not through portal magic although maybe, but there would be steel involved. Steel and fire and blood. And that tiny, insignificant little rock would have proved it was important enough not to ignore.

If she had just said yes back then. Allasaria blinked a tear away. She probably could have been able to stand next to Kassandora again. That was her greatest failing, she should have never abandoned that woman when she wanted to leave. Sythia had been saved, but Sythia still have to be managed. It was the first kingdom Allasaria had ruled. And Kassandora, instead of staying, had gone off to fight another war. And then the next one. And another. Until she fought more wars than any other Divine.

And then, Arascus had found her. And the Goddess who was seen as to be dangerous, too total, too literal in prayers of annihilation, had integrated into a permanent military structure. And the Empire had gained its greatest mind. Maybe the entire Great War could not be attributed to Kassandora, but if she wasn’t there, then maybe it would have lasted forty years. Thirty maybe? It would have just been another Divine conflict then. Not a Great War.

But no, even though the same souls incarnated both Kassandora and Allasaria, even though they were less than ten years apart, even though Allasaria had been there to raise the monster, she had not raised her right. Kassandora would do the dirty work, Allasaria would march back home after slaying a great monster. The silent soldiers would march, Allasaria would receive the cheers. How could Kassandora have stayed in the first place?

Allasaria felt the tears slowly drain down her cheeks. She had failed Kassandora back then. She had failed Arascus too. She had failed Divinity. She failed Sythia in the end. She failed in the White Pantheon. She failed winning the Great War. She failed at keeping Pantheon Peace. She failed humanity. She failed her own world. Every failure had just been another attempt to hide the previous one. And now she had reached the ultimate failure and everyone on that blue-green rock, and they were all succeeding without her.

And then it reappeared again. The Second Arc was back, in full view, now a massive black mark which passed over one of the rings in the Solar System. “Is that it?” Allasaria asked. “The Second Arc.”

“It’s passing the asteroid belt.” Chisovianka said.

“Oh.” Allasaria said. “You call that the asteroid belt?”

“Because it’s a ring of asteroids. It’s the belt between the inner and outer solar system.” Allasaria stared up at the screen as she tried to work it out in her head. She closed her eyes, tightened her fists, shook her head, and pretended to not be thinking anything. But she had seen it just then. The original idea had been obvious. Tartarus was protecting themselves by launching the Second Arc into the Sun. It made sense, she believed at first.

But…

She stared, tracking the movement. It was not going to hit the Sun. Maybe on a second, a third, a fourth pass by. And then the shadow disappeared as it left the asteroid belt. Once again swallowed by the black vacuum of space. It passed in front of a nebula, Allasaria wiped her tears, her mind immediately working. Two positions was good enough, she could at least estimate a trajectory.

It would make at least one revolution around the Sun. Naturally, the speed would fling it outwards, as comets were flung far out. And… “I want to go back home Chisovianka.” Allasaria’s voice cracked. She didn’t even care, she was Allasaria, she was petty, she was manipulative, she had tremendous power and she was just a weak little princess that failed at everything she had ever done. And she would not fail this time.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. They had fooled her once before. When they covered her world in that opaque glass stopped Arda from ever ripping apart the chain-link fence that guarded it. And now? Surely… “That…” Chisovianka said quietly. “You will be killed.”

“I want to die.” No she did not. A minute before, she did. But now, it was a definite no. Not when she still had something left to save. “So kill me already, or I will split my own wrists before you. Send me back home.”

“Allasaria.” Chisovianka said, Allasaria finally turned to the archangel. She was shuffling from foot to foot, obviously unaware of what to do or say. “We… There’s still… Please…”

“Please what Chisovianka?” Allasaria said. “What is there to do or say? Arascus has won, my life is over. I am going back home. I did not come here to be made your prisoner.”

“You’re not our prisoner!” Chisovianka called out. “But Rapheum says… he will want you to lead Arda again. You are changing here. Believe me, I see it too.” If this was her first time, she would believe it. But not now, not when they had led her down this fool’s path before. Allasaria? Allasaria rule? For what? So that she could have another millennium of the utter misery that was the White Pantheon? So that she could spend the rest of her life in a shadow of Arascus? She was already doing that anyway!

“I am leaving.”

Chisovianka shook her head, her wings fluttered behind her. “Don’t! It’s not safe! And I like you!” Great. Fantastic. Some angel liked her as her entire world cursed her name. She turned back to the screen and found the shadow. It would hook back around the sun. And Arda was entering autumn by now. It would be… It would be summer next year. That’d be something like three quarters of the loop.

The Second Arc would have hooked around the sun at the pace it was going then. Maybe the maths was wrong, but whatever they would tell her, she would not believe them. The estimate in her head was too close for comfort. She turned back to Chisovianka. “I am an Ardan Goddess Chisovianka. That world is my world.”

“But it’s not only yours.” Chisovianka said.

“No, it’s not only mine.” Allasaria said. “But not a single speck of sand on that world is yours. That world is Arda, and whatever you make of it, it is my duty to save.” Allasaria raised her palm towards the angel. The lamps in the room amplified with intensity as Allasaria channelled her own searing holy light.

She could fail at everything and she could come back another time. But if she failed at what she thought right now, there wouldn’t be an Arda for the next Of Light to incarnate on. “Do not treat me like a child and tell me now. I know your people are smart enough to have asked the question already, and I know you know, tell me now. Will the Second Arc hit my world?”

The lack of an answer was answer enough.