Ultimately, there is little that can truly stand against the cold, hard force that is terror. There is a tyranny is one of the original forms of government, and the effectiveness of it should be made obvious due to how we have entire schools of political theory whose sole purpose is to try and stop government from sliding back into tyranny.

The presence of Divines, ultimately, is a rallying cry for tyranny. The average human simply cannot compete with Divine. Not in strength. Not in power. Yet those are obvious, mortals cannot compete with lifetimes of experience either. I would argue that even in terms of intelligence and knowledge, humans can only struggle to try and compete, and certainly not against a Divine’s chosen field. There is no mortal who can wage war as well as Kassandora, nor anyone who can play emotions with such skill as Helenna.

All that Divines truly have stopping them once again descending into tyranny is other Divines. If we collectively agreed that we had no issue with rulership in the traditional, pre Age of Heroes, then tyranny would be restored overnight.

This is why I simply don’t bother to pretend. My Divine Order is openly tyrannical, people still join. That is how much one a mortal will tolerate in order to be part of something powerful.

– Excerpt from “An Examination of Divine Governance”, written by Goddess Maisara, of Order. Goddess Allasaria, of Light, banned publication of the text, much to Maisara’s dismay.

Paida walked into Saksma’s home without bothering to knock. She had done the Goddess of Doschia the decency that she informed the woman that she wanted a meeting to handle a personal crisis, but that was that. Saksma, being the good friend she was, had heartily accepted. And now, Paida opened the door to the Goddess’ home in the outskirts of Hallin. It was a quiet neighbourhood, and the house was hidden behind enough trees that one could almost forget they were close to the capital of the country.

Inside, Paida did not know what she was going to expect, but she was disappointed by how predictable it was. The floors were heavy, rugged and polished dark oak wood panels, the walls was lined with the wallpaper hotels in Aris would use. There were blades on the walls, taxidermized animal heads, there was a huge grandfather clock. And there was a shout. “Paida! That you?!”

“It’s me.” Paida shouted back.

“First door on the right! I’m working!” Paida rolled her eyes. Classic. How one could make their satisfying passion, Paida could not understand. On one hand, she was almost jealous. On the other, she was glad that this would never be her. Paida walked through the short corridor, took her heeled shoes off and turned through the first door to the right.

Inside, it was a living room of sorts. A fireplace, a couch, but then the place became a bar. Saksma was sat there and Paida realised she had overdressed to visit her friend. Saksma wore a white shirt and black pants that contrasted against the woman’s blonde hair, Paida had come in high Arisian fashion, a soft, hand-knitted scarf, a pair of sunglasses she hung off the top button on her shirt, a skirt that was hidden by the long brown coat, she had even worn a hat.

Saksma looked as if she had thrown on the closest things to her bed. “Wow well look at you!” Saksma said. The Goddess of Doschia said with a glance and hurried Paida over to the bar. She was sitting on a stool and tapping away on a laptop. A huge one, made for Divine fingers. It was practically a portable computer.

“What are you doing?” Paida asked as Saksma kept on typing away. “And why here?”

“I’m working.” Saksma said. “And here because I work faster when there’s less distractions.”

“Mmh.” Paida turned and looked at the couch. “There’s no distractions there.”

“Lounging about is a distraction.” Saksma answered. Classic. That was classic. What did Paida even expect?

“What are you doing? I wanted to talk.” Paida said.

“I’m finishing up. It’s just giving permissions to universities in Doschia to analyse samples.” Paida leaned in to see what was going on, on Saksma’s screen. She was just writing emails. Paida had had enough of that back in Aris.

“Are you running a science project or what?” She said, somewhat annoyed. Here she comes with a crisis and Saksma is what? Managing some science fair? How about she start making baking soda volcan-

“It’s for Arascus.” Saksma said and that immediately stalled Paida’s annoyed line of thinking. Well, if it was the Emperor of the Empire, then that was a bit different. Just slightly.

“What are you analysing?”

“The Second Expedition has brought back samples of poisoned water from the bottom of Klavdiv. They’ve done some tests, they want labs. Arascus mentioned it to me and I said Doschia can provide. It’s not a lot of work, just choosing the right teams and…” Saksma trailed off as she placed send. “There, that’s it. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Paida said as Saksma leaned behind the counter and brought out a huge bottle of black glass. It was Lubskan vodka, and there was enough drink in one bottle to knock out a horse. “Where did you get that?” Paida asked. She took off her hat and coat, placing both on the stool next to hers. Saksma may have no taste when it came to decoration, but Paida appreciated sitting at a bar to discuss her hardships. It fit the mood and aesthetic, and she had always been one for mood and aesthetic.

“Olonia gave it to me.” Saksma said. Well, it was Lubskan vodka. Naturally Olonia would have played a hand here. “Do you know that movie Helenna and Malam are making?”

“Mmh.”

“I sent over a squadron of Doschian warplanes since Lubska doesn’t have the Skystar models. This is good stuff. I drank a bottle myself already.” The vodka from the black bottle was perfectly clear. The two Goddesses raised glasses, tilted their heads back and drank. Saksma made a stupid sound, drinking like some absolute animal, whilst Paida drank quietly. “What do you think?”

“I prefer wine.”

“Classic.” Saksma said. “Well I have none, so we’re drinking vodka. What did you want talk about my friend?” Paida took a deep breath.

“Do you know about Operation Ratsweeper?” Paida asked quietly. She saw Saksma’s smiling face, those shining blue eyes all framed by the woman’s yellow hair. And she saw Saksma shake her head. Well of course. Why would Saksma know about a special operation that most of Rancais did not know about? “Then this is going to be a long explanation.”

And Paida explained. She explained the issue with Anarchians, that Saksma knew about although everyone did. What she did not know about was that Paida had let the whole Anarchian problem become an Imperial issue. Those blue eyes went wide when she heard about Malam, then wider when the name of the Special Imperial Service was dropped. She had to pour another drink for that, and then another when Paida mentioned Kavaa making men immortal. And then Paida got to the actual explanation of Operation Ratsweeper. That, there truly wasn’t much to say about. “They killed them. One night.” Paida held up a finger to drive the point home. “One night is all it took. That’s the sort of machination Malam pulled off. It’s incredible honestly, but… well, it’s trouble for me too.”

And now, Paida naturally got to the purpose of this meeting. Yet the moment she did, she suddenly became at a loss for words. What was there to say even? What could she say? “And I don’t really know. I’m angry, of course, but we couldn’t let them stay alive.”

“I didn’t think you would have a problem with this purge.” Saksma said as she slid yet another full glass to Paida.

“I know. That’s not… Well…” Paida trailed off. “I mean…” Paida sighed and drank. She motioned with her hand for Saksma to take over the conversation.

“What do you want to do now?” Saksma asked. That was no help at all.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well I do know what you should be doing.”

“What?”

“Your job.”

Paida didn’t know whether that was the answer was expecting, whether that was the answer she wanted, whether she subconsciously knew that was the reply Saksma was going to give her, after all, what else would Saksma say? Paida took a deep breath and looked into her empty glass. She tapped it against the counter and shook her head, slowly. At the end of the day, was Saksma not just correct? “And what is that?” Paida asked and Saksma sighed heavily as she refilled Paida’s glass with more clear vodka.

“Classic.”

“What is?”

“Rancais-an depression.” Saksma replied dryly and immediately Paida’s mood took a hit even lower than it had been before. “If I tell you what your job is now, you’ll just say that it’s not a fulfilling answer. Your job is turning up to the office, smiling on camera and acting as the communicator between the Empire and Rancais. Because you represent the latter and you work for the former. That’s your job.”

Saksma was damn right. “That’s not a fulfilling answer.”

“What do you want to hear then?” Saksma asked. Paida didn’t like how the vodka in the glass was looking up at her, she drank it. Much better. It burned on the way down. The Lubskans knew how to make it alright.

“I mean, it can’t just be that Saksma. I’m there, I handle issues, I just… it’s just trite. Now, there’s a problem, this… I mean, we just had a purge in the country and I’m supposed to pretend nothing happened. There… What? I’m supposed to go back to meetings after this? I’m supposed to be negotiating export prices to the Empire? That’s it?”

“What do builders do?” Saksma asked.

“What sort of question is that?”

“Just answer it.”

“They build.”

“I mean how, what do they do?” Saksma leaned towards Paida and refilled her glass again. “If you were a builder, what would you say you do?”

“I would say I’m building homes and futures.” Paida replied immediately and Saksma sighed.

“That’s the problem, you see. I’m glad you just demonstrated it.”

Paida once again emptied the glass into her stomach. Honestly, she could do with downing the rest of that bottle. “Mmh. Why? What do builders do then?”

“They pour the fucking concrete.” Saksma said, her strong Doschian accent twisting the curse word to make it sound even harsher. “They can talk of building futures and homes and essentiality and everything like that, but you know how all those grandiosities look in real life? They look like pouring the fucking concrete.” Saksma’s finger poked Paida’s arm. “And this is what you’re going to do. Because you can talk of grandiosities and issues and everything like that but at the end of the day your job is to stamp your seal onto pieces of paper. So fucking stamp the fucking seal. Complain all you want, but you’re here with your best friend drinking when you should stamping pieces of paper.”

Paida sat there and couldn’t help but smile. “Stamp the fucking seal, huh?” Paida asked.

“Stamp the fucking seal.” Saksma replied. “That’s your job. Do you know what trying to do the job of others is called?”

“What?”

“Making trouble. And no one likes those who make trouble.” Paida took a deep breath and couldn’t help herself.

“Excuse me for seeking advice from a Doschian.” She replied. “What did I even expect?”

“This is why my country is the manufacturing base of Epa and yours isn’t.” Saksma said and flicked her golden hair back in pride. “Because we’re a nation of workers who don’t go making trouble for others. You have neighbours, so learn from them.”

Paida didn’t even want to argue this point. Saksma was right in one regard, but it was just such a sick Doschian perspective that there was nothing to discuss. “This is why people go to Doschia to work and to Rancais to love.”

“Mmh.” Saksma cooed. “What’s more romantic than purging forty thousand and having no one even know about it?”

“Saksma!” Paida finally shouted and the Goddess of Doschia raised her hands defensively.

“What?”

“Don’t phrase it like that!”

“Then how am I supposed to phrase it?” Saksma asked. “And I’ll be honest, I don’t see you shedding tears for Anarchians, do I?”

“It’s not that. I know they had…” Paida had no clue what she was saying. “But what am I supposed to say?”

“You’re supposed to feel bad about the fact you couldn’t do your own job and someone else did it for you?”

“I hate you.” Paida said. Honestly, why had she even come to this idiot for advice? She should have gone to Aliana or Agrita or Olonia. The average Doschian had all the emotional depth and intelligence of a damn factory. Anyone else would have been better. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novelfire(.)net

“So I’m right.” Saksma said. “It stings because I’m correct. You said it at the start, Malam and Kavaa both caused you trouble. And I was correct, how did they cause you trouble? They did work you should have done for you. Now if you try to clean up after them, you’re just going to start spiralling and trouble will follow trouble and that’s how it’s going to be.”

Paida tapped her glass and passed it to Saksma, who refilled it again. The Goddess of Rancais stared into her drink and tried to find a cushion to shield herself with. She failed utterly at that though, ultimately, no matter what justification Paida tried to make, one answer would come bubbling up through the conflicting thoughts. Could Rancais have solved the Anarchian issue? Well, definitely, given enough time, but the moment Fer had been drained of strength was the moment it became an Imperial issue, and not just a Rancais one. Maybe Paida could have done something then too, but she had simply not led Rancais down that path. There was no Special Imperial Service equivalent in the country. Nor was there anyone equivalent to Kavaa’s immortals. Yet likewise, Rancais could have developed a secret police with the Imperial Colleges of Magic that Arascus had opened. Rancais itself had four such schools. The problem had been huge, but it had not been unsolvable.

Yet at the end of the day, Paida had not solved it. Had she? In fact, she had handed it off to Malam and not even argued with the Goddess of Hatred said the problem would be solved. It was Malam! How else would she be able to fix the problem? What did Paida expect? And now… And now, it simply did not matter. The job was done, the Empire had come in, Helenna had said the mess would be handled, Paida was not involved. Paida had not been involved. Paida had not wanted to be involved since the start. And now?

And now she did not like that others did a job she should have done. Whose fault was that? As angry as the Goddess of Rancais got, as much as her cheeks flushed and her violet eyes grew sharp, she simply could not push the annoyance away. And yet she knew that the annoyance only existed at herself and not truly at Helenna or Malam or Kavaa or even Saksma. Ultimately, all of them did their own jobs. Paida had just refused to do hers. That was the big issue. And Paida only had herself to blame. “What?” Saksma spoke again. “Have we shut down Paida?”

“I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Saksma leaned close to the table and tried to get into Paida’s field of view.

“About what I should do now.” Paida half-said, half-asked. It was a desperate plea to Saksma in order to get something to do, something which would take Paida’s mind off this.

“I can tell you.” Saksma said. “In fact, I’ve told you already. You just don’t like what I said.”

“What then?”

“You should just do your own job and leave others to theirs.” Saksma said and Paida collapsed forward onto the counter, her back arching and her chin resting on the wood, arms spread out. Saksma was correct. Saksma was correct that Paida had heard it before. She was correct that Paida wouldn’t like it too. And Paida sat there and tried to find a reason for why it hurt her so much. Was she just fucking lazy? But she wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. And even if she was, she would never admit it to herself.

And yet sitting right did not change a damn thing in this world. She was trying to force her way into someone else’s job and just as Saksma said, she was just making trouble for everyone around her and herself. Ultimately, as unsatisfying as it was, eventually one had to grow up. One had to accept that things would not turn out as they should turn out. One had to accept that even though they could feel like they had all the power in the world, there was always a bigger fish in the sea. “So stamp the fucking seal.” Paida said, her tone exhausted.

“Stamp the fucking seal.” Saksma echoed. “Cheers to that.” She poured Paida another glass and raised her own.

“To stamping seals?”

“To work.” What a terrible reason to drink to.

Paida drank.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep