After talking with various humans, I can only come to one conclusion. No one truly knows how to be a parent, there is no set method, the consensus is general only insofar as ideas are spread. It cannot be compared to something such as swordfighting or painting, where one can directly compare different styles to one another. It is communal and yet it is individual, it is something that is impossible to understand, and yet it something that all parents must rise to. Almost akin to jumping into deep water, unknowing how to swim, yet being incapable of having the release that death in drowning brings.

In this fashion, I know what I am doing. I know what I am doing because I have decided to walk down this path and thus I cannot be allowed to not know what I am doing. To parent is to try and achieve the impossible, yet to not be content with anything less that total victory. There was a time when it was said that we, as Divines, would never experience what it was like to have a family in the same fashion that humans do. In some way, this is still true, obviously my children are not the spawn of my seed, yet they are my children nonetheless…. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ N0v3l.Fiɾe.net

I set about writing this text in order to try and write a guide or some set of instructions for other Divines to follow and be able to replicate this pattern of behaviour. Yet now, as I sit here, I am lost for words. To explain parenthood is to try and explain where lays the end of a rainbow.

There is no answer, yet one simply knows.

– Unpublished excerpt of an untitled work, written by God Arascus, of Pride.

Arascus looked down at Kassandora, the Goddess of War made a stupid face. She wore a tattered uniform that had been ripped apart by the materialization of her own armour, of course it was. Arascus knew the signs, the back of her black coat was hanging low, it’s edge ugly and sharp and shaped like the silhouette of a mountain jagged mountain range. Her boots were torn too. Kassandora saluted and Arascus sighed, his eyes still locked on her, and then shook his head. The two Divines stood in a palace in Hallin, were the God of Pride had been rifling through the papers that had come back from the scientists who were testing Klavdiv’s flooded depths.

But that did not matter. Nor did the mess in his room matter. The documents scattered about his desk filled with lab reports and other tests did not. For now, all that mattered was the news he had received just a minute prior: Goddess Kassandora had been captured. Furcas was back.

He had stood up, and then Kassandora herself had stormed through the door. And now the two Divines stood looking at each other.

There were times when Arascus considered Kassandora as his smartest, and there were times when Kassandora’s sheer idiotic lunacy baffled Arascus so much that he wondered how the woman was still alive. Right now was one of those moments. He wanted to unleash the volcano within himself and drown the woman in an explosion of his own rage, and he wanted to grab her and never let her go again. He wanted to smack that terrible confidence of hers out of her and he wanted to embrace her and cry a waterfall of happy, relieved tears.

Arascus did nothing of sort, he just asked a question. “Is it true?”

The fact Kassandora did not reply quickly was out of her style, and it was confirmation that it was indeed true. She sighed, finally broke the gaze and looked down at the wooden floor of Arascus’ office like a sulking little girl. Arascus kept looking at the top of her head, her crimson hair had been messed up, various random strands of red were sticking out at odd angles. She smelled terrible, a mixture of sulphur and stone dust and various metals and rusts and blood. “It’s true.”

Arascus took a deep breath and hugged Kassandora. In that exchange, the roaring volcano within him grew calm, the ferocious flood started to retreat, the hurricane of rage lost its energy. Kassandora was back. Kassandora was safe. His daughter was safe. She was safe. He straightened his back and picked Kassandora up off the ground. “You’re safe now.” He said. “You’re safe. I have you.”

Was it for her? Or was it for himself? Arascus was not even sure. He knew about the plan of the Second Expedition. He knew Kassandora wanted to lead from the front lines. He knew that although her arguments made sense, she could make anything have sense. He had ultimately given permission for her fight like that. Furcas should have never gotten close enough to engage in a fight with Kassandora in the first place. And yet… And yet as Arascus thought, he knew it should have been obvious that there would be an engagement. He should have been there. He should have forced Kassandora to stay safe. Part of the reason that the Goddess of War was so successful in campaign was because she could wholly detach the idea of herself away from what was happening. There were times when it was as if she had no instinct of self-preservation whatsoever. “I know dad.” Kassandora replied quietly and buried her face into Arascus’ shoulder. She whimpered quietly, and Arascus immediately felt wetness from her tears.

Arascus did not reply. He held onto Kassandora, stilling lifting her off the ground, for dear life, as if he was about to fall off a cliff and she was the only thing holding him in place. How long they stood in that room, Arascus did not even know. Outside, the skyline of Doschia’s capital, Hallin, became tarnished with the purples and reds of dusk. And still, Arascus held onto Kassandora.

The Goddess of War broke the sacred silence of the embrace first. “I’m sorry.” She whispered into Arascus’ shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” It came again and again and again. Arascus only stood and gently rubbed her back as he listened.

“I know you are.” Arascus replied.

“I’m sorry.” Kassandora cried again. “I’m sorry for apologizing!” She wailed louder.

“I know.” Arascus said.

“No dad, apologies are worthless dad.” Kassandora began to spew words at the rapid-fire of a machine gun. “I’m just laying my guilt for you. I still put myself in danger. I know I’ll do it again. I know. I’m sorry! I know I won’t change! But I am! Really! Please! Be… lieve… me…” Kassandora eventually exhausted herself, her tears stopped and she stopped being so loud.

“I know Kassie.” Arascus said. “I believe you.”

“I’m…”

“Shh…” Arascus shushed Kassandora and slowly carried her to one of the chairs in Arascus’ office. He placed her down and saw Kassandora pull her knees up to chin as she curled into a ball. Her cheeks were the exact same shade of crimson as her hair, water ran from her nose and tears streamed from her eyes as she shook and whimpered and bawled.

It broke Arascus’ heart to leave her like this, but it was something she needed to go through herself. Arascus sat behind his desk and brought out two glasses for drinking whiskey from his cupboard as he returned to looking through the papers. The sheets detailing the success of Operation Ratsweeper were hidden below the panicked and apologetic letters from various commanders who obviously did not know what was happening in Kassandora’s unit, yet still felt a need to let Arascus know that something terrible had happened. That was classic behaviour from Kassandora, she always tried to take as much work off Arascus as possible, if that meant simply banning her men from writing reports to higher ups, then they would be banned.

He did not get much reading done, after all, he had only sat down to give Kassandora some space. The Goddess of War eventually ran out of tears to spill, and energy to spill tears with. She still sniffled, but she opened her eyes and looked around the room. “Sorry.” She said one last time.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Arascus gently said. “You’re safe now.”

“I’m sorry because I made you worry.” Kassandora, still red in the face, still with a running nose, still with her eyes sore, sat up straight as she returned to her usual self. Arascus knew that she had just needed somewhere to cry.

He leaned back in his black seat and pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his desk. “Do you want a drink?”

“Really though.” Kassandora began. “I mean it, I shouldn’t have done that. I know I shouldn’t. I went off and I didn’t have anyone.” Arascus sighed. He had heard all of this before. Kassandora had a sweet way of explaining her own actions that made her sound tragic. “Honestly, I just lost control. I shouldn’t have sent Fer away. I mean, I knew we were in danger, that’s why I sent her away. But I should have gone with her.” Arascus opened the whiskey flask. Kassie had a fantastic way of taking responsibility for herself, she was truthful and honest and Arascus knew she genuinely felt sorry. But… “Really, it’s just I wasn’t good enough. Or not even that, I overestimated my own success again and…” Arascus poured two full glasses of whiskey. There it was. She would lay the blame at her own feet and that would be that. “But I did-“

Arascus interrupted his daughter by sliding the whiskey glass forward to just right under her nose. “There you go Kassie.” He said. “Now I have a more important question to ask than listening to your apology.”

Kassandora stood up straight before the desk, with a worried expression of a child who knew they were about to be told off. “What?” She asked gingerly. “What is it?”

“Will you do it again?” He ended the question by lifting up his glass. They both stared at each other. Kassandora’s crimson eyes sharpened and she took a deep breath. Arascus raised his eyebrows and felt his lips curl into a smile. They both knew the answer to that question, didn’t they?

“I will.” Kassandora said.

“Mmh.” Arascus tapped Kassandora’s glass with his finger to get her to drink. “Cheers to that then.” He said and tipped the glass back into his head. The strong whiskey burned on the way down and immediately Arascus poured another glass for himself and for Kassandora. “But don’t apologise if you’re not going to change.”

“I know I shouldn’t though.” Kassandora said calmly.

“And?” Arascus asked. “We both know we shouldn’t drink and yet we still do.” He gestured towards the glasses. “Knowledge is just knowledge, words are wind and you still going to get yourself in trouble. You have always gotten yourself into trouble. What am I supposed to say? Do you want me to scold you? We both know I won’t.”

Kassandora stood silently before Arascus’ desk for a few moments. The God of Pride took the initiative before his daughter could dig her own emotional hole further. He could not give her absolution even if he wanted to. He did want to! But Kassandora, for all her talk, would not accept absolution herself. “Did I worry? Yes. Of course I worried. I was worried from the moment I gave you permission to lead from the front. But what am I supposed to say Kassandora? We’ve lost people before, you’re the Goddess of War, I’m the God of Pride, we’re not children, we’ve never been children.” He took a deep breath. Absolution, he could not give, but he hoped he would be able to settle her nerves. “How old are we Kassie? We’ve known each other for thousands of years before we became family. If a man pats a wolf and gets bit, how bad can you truly feel for him?”

Kassandora smiled sadly to herself, looked around and pointed to the large, divine-sized, chair stood against wall. Arascus nodded towards it to give her permission as he continued. “So I will not blame you Kassandora. Don’t apologize to me because your words will do nothing for my worries, just as mine will do nothing about what your hot-headedness. I know I worry about those I love, and I still chose to love you. Don’t try to carry a burden that isn’t yours.”

Kassandora sighed as she put the chair down in front of Arascus’ desk and snuggled into it. She drank the glass of whiskey and Arascus refilled it again. Small bottle, it only managed to fill six glasses before running out. “You’re too good to me.” She said sadly, her eyes sullenly gazing into the glass of light-brown drink.

“Only because you deserve it.” Arascus replied. He didn’t even know if he meant it, he just knew that Kassandora would smile at the comment. She did, playing with her hair and smiling, her cheeks going rosy red. Kassie never got enough compliments in the past, now, she was a desert that could be flooded with an ocean before it got satiated.

“Thanks.” Kassandora said quietly.

“Do you want another drink?”

“Do you have one?” Arascus pulled out another bottle of whiskey from his drawer. He came prepared, sweets for Olephia, expensive red wine for Anassa, gin for Kavaa, whiskey for Kassandora. With a mischievous smile, Kassandora pushed her glass forward and Arascus filled his and hers.

“What are you going to do now?” He asked, clinking his glass against hers.

“I’m going to be closing the rift.”

“Are you going to make me worry?”

“Not this time, I promise.”

“You sure?” Arascus asked.

“Give me…” Kassandora moved her head from side to side. “I don’t know. Ten days?”

“That’s unless you come up against anything.

“Do you think I will?”

“Do you know you won’t?” Arascus asked and Kassandora raised her glass.

“True. I was going suggest you hand off the World Core to me.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Arascus said. She had enough on her mind already. Could she manage it? Probably. But the more Kassandora had to do, the more likely it was that she would start speeding up to outrun her opponents and that never ended well. “You just focus on the rift. The World Core is my area. After you’re done, start on the counter offensive underground.”

“How far do you want me to go?”

“Til the end.” Arascus asked and he saw Kassandora’s eyes light up.

“Which end?”

“The final one.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep