Arascus has a thirst for power, one does not have to sleep with the man to understand that a delusionally optimistic ambition is the very centre of his soul. To have the sheer confidence, the utter arrogance, the complete denial of impossibility that makes one thing they can become a father to Goddesses should tell everyone exactly what sort of man he is. Likewise, I do not even wish to the “Empire” an “Empire” but rather a “Empire Project”. It is a grand experiment, never done in Arda through all of recorded history. What sort of person must one be to think they can conquer the world in its entirety? Not even the surface but the oceanic kingdoms and the realm under the surface of the Dwarves.

It is something sorely lacking from the reactive governance of the White Pantheon. Arascus does not think in terms of years or decades but centuries. The Empire Project is successful precisely because it strives to impose nothing but itself. All that is needed to be Imperial is to wave the flag, not cause problems for others and follow the basic Imperial tenets, although even they are fairly lax principal laws and the imposition of taxation. This applies from the individual to the national subject. Olonia and Alliana differ greatly in their governance, and that is nothing to talk of how Kirinyaa has almost total autonomy over its own land.

The small-scale independence protests within Arika have fizzled out. The final nail in the coffin was ironically the slowing down of the Greening Campaign in the west. There were no lies told to the public, governors Abakwa of Ausa and the newly-appointed Angaine of Kirinyaa were directed to simply state what the situation was: The Greening Campaign was delayed because the Empire had ran out of seeds. The Imperial Project has managed to replace the notion of shame with the notion of efficiency, the Ashlands Commission even started taking donations from small farmers, individuals and hobbyist gardeners who suddenly found a war even they could fight. No monetary compensation was given, but they did receive letters of thanks and medals, along with the certificates bestowing the ceremonial title of “Ashlands Reclaimer” to hang on their wall.

The White Pantheon would have hidden the collapse of the Greening Campaign, refused to discuss it and written it out of history because they would think it makes them seem weak.

So we circle back around to Arascus’ ambitions of power. The Empire exists as a self-perpetuating entity. It’s goal today is to exist tomorrow, to exist in ten years, to exist throughout this century and to last through the entire millennia. One can grandly besmirch the root of his ambitions but for all talk of poisonous roots, what have those roots spiralled into?

To draw comparison to a person, the Empire is much like Kassandora. She very obviously exhibits sociopathy, I have known this even before the Great War started, we simply did not have the modern term for it back then. Yet Kassandora’s sociopathy manifests as intelligence, problem-solving, directness and an odd sense of politeness. I am unsure if the woman actually possesses emotions but I am sure that her reason for being this way is that she has come to cold, logical decisions about how best to lead her armies.

Arascus’ ambition, his endless thirst for power and power at all costs has manifested in the same way. It is not power for the reason of imposition of Arascus, it is power for power’s sake. And in that, power has decided that the best way to achieve itself is through the Imperial Project.

Through the creation of a land so radiant, so efficient and so successful that one would need motives purely personal to stand against it.

– Excerpt from “To Talk Of Divine Bonding”, written by Goddess Helenna, of Love, unpublished.

If the Anarchian Civil War had done anything for Paida, it was showing her quickly she could lose it all. In a matter of days, Rancais had gone from a functioning country to being in the hands of an enemy Goddess. A strike on powerplants followed by unrest in the street and all members of the late Artois’ government hanging from street poles had brought Rancais back thousands of years in terms of organisation.

And if there was another lesson from the ACW, then it would be how quickly Paida could regain all of it. Of course, it had not been her efforts. She had to thank Kassandora and Fer and Arascus and Iliyal Tremali for it, amongst a countless list of other names, but it was a lesson that had been needed to be taught. Arascus may be attempting to construct permanence but after everything that had happened, Paida could only see how transient it all was. So now, as she sat in her chair and wished to see walk through the streets of Aris, she knew she had a job to do. Transient her reign may be, but she would make it a golden age of Rancais. Olonia had a headstart with her building homes for Divines in Lubska but that was a mere substitute for true culture. For true culture and true industry and true arts and true sciences and everything else that the world had to thank Rancais for.

Paida sat up in her chair in her royal regalia. A deep blue cape around her shoulders although nothing on her head. A black uniform over it. The cape was short, modest, trim. That was another lesson Arascus had taught her, true authority could afford to be humble. Paida could wear farmer’s clothes and people would still listen to her. She looked around her council. A grand palace room, the doors were huge to allow entry for the Goddess. Pictures of Rancais’ greatest architecture hung around the walls covered in royal blue. Glass chandeliers above provided the light for the decisions makers to work in the window-less room.

To her right was Jean-Phillippe, the chancellor and the right hand of the nation. A smart man with his hair slicked back. The man had done almost everything, a man who worked on a tree plantation, then became a local mayor, a counter-insurgent against Anarchia’s forces, a soldier in the Imperial Military. He had marched into Aris to the tune of War’s Orchestra back then. “Ladies and gentlemen.” Paida spread her hands. “Today’s matter of the day is the RRA’s final budget statement. They want a full list of expenses by the end of the week but have already transferred four million Marks into the account.”

The RRA, Rancais Reconstruction Authority, was a branch of the Epan Reconstruction Authority, a stimulus package to awaken and retool the Epan economies after Imperial Takeover. The Doschian branch had announced its mission fulfilled, bureaus were going to be closing their doors in two months. Rilia’s and Allia’s were in the same position. Lubska and Rancais had their support extended to the former being the frontline of the war and the latter going through Anarchia’s takeover. A few of the faces looked in genuine surprise at the news. Jean-Phillipe was happy though, as was Marlene Faicou, minister of Culture. She had earned her medals as a counter-insurgent radio operator. “They’re going?” Robert Lapierre asked.

“They did say.” Paida said. She picked up her pen and tapped the table to get the conversation moving forwards.

“They say nothing is as permanent as a temporary measure.” Jean-Philippe said. “Unfortunately for us, the Empire’s picked up a dictionary and knows what temporary means.” The whole table chuckled at that. Even Paida smiled, that was certainly true, the amount of land under permanent-temporary White Pantheon control had been a national embarrassment in the past.

“What of Ordeaux?” Marcen Rappoir asked. Another skinny fellow, another veteran. This one had been in the south.

Paida supposed she had summed things up too much. “Save for the Ordeaux branch which will be subsumed directly into the Imperial Bureau of Crisis Management, we have assurances for four more years of support in Ordeaux along with the construction of a Rancais megaport if the situation does not change. That comes directly from the palace.” A few of the cabinet members even clapped at that. Paida was certainly happy, Allia had gotten two already whereas Doschia was petitioning for its own. Rancais could not afford to be left behind. “So, ladies, gentlemen, hit me with your ideas. Jean-Philippe, write them down.”

“Of course Goddess.” The chancellor answered as he clicked his blue pen. The same colour of Paida’s cloak.

“Nuclear expansion.” Marlene Faicou suggested. “For the power grid and for the continued transition from coal.” Paida nodded as Jean-Philippe scrolled. And so the ideas came. An expansion of Rancais’ high-speed rail. modernization of farms, new machinery for the national parks. An expansion of the tourist industry in the south. The first meetings had been face-to-face with RRA officials who had wanted the kept the initial focus to infrastructure and housing investments. Now, there was little of the necessities to cover.

Most of them would be rejected, Paida did not expect the RRA to cover the costs of a dozen new nuclear power plants as Marlene had suggested but it was worth a shot. If there was one thing she had learned here though, it was that for every idea she thought was not worth even bothering forwarding, someone in the higher ranks of the Empire had already thought of it. Three state of the art schools of science were going up in Rancais’ largest city thanks to that mindset. After about a quarter-hour, the ideas started slowing down. Another quarter hour and they had ended. Jean-Philippe had filled up a whole side of paper with them. “Good.” Paida said. “They’re to be costed for and sent off within three days. Four at most.”

It was hard work, Paida had talked with Saksma and Aliana at how they were managing their governments and none kept the pace that the Goddess of Rancais did. But then this was why she filled her cabinet with men who had served under Kassandora. If there was anything that Goddess could do, it was show a person just exactly how much they were capable of. Jean-Philippe nodded and slid the paper into his binder. “It shall be done but I will need assistance from the other cabinet members.”

The whole table responded with a choir of different affirmations. “Is there anything else?” Paida asked.

“There’s the Imperial Games issue.” Marlene said. That had been a month ago from the Imperial Bureau of Culture, a sports festival with every nation from the Empire attending. It was due next year.

“What is difficult about it?” Paida asked.

“I would like to host an internal tournament to select.” Marlene said. “With national support, we could even make it turn a profit. I have plans already.” She pulled out a set of papers from her own blue folder and passed them to the table. “We would be using Chateau fields and already existing arenas, the only costs would be in management.”

“Go ahead.” Paida said. Every national issue was to go through this room no matter how good it seemed. And that was a good idea. The rest of the table nodded. “And the Evision preparations?” Empire-Vision, another IBoC project. The games were a sports competition, Evision was a music tournament.

“We’re going to go with online voting.” Marlene said.

“Costs?”

“Free.” Marlene said. “Aris Technological Institute has come forward to offer to have its students make for their course this year.”

“And they say students are useless.” Jean-Philippe said sarcastically and got another series of chuckles from the table.

“Excellent. Good job Marlene.” Marlene smiled and blushed with pride at the compliment from her Goddess.

“We’re doing them a favour too.” She said. “They begged me for it because they’ve no curriculum for this year.”

“What a time to live to in.” Marcen said from the other side of the table. “Win-win-win all around.”

“Don’t get tired of it.” Jean-Philippe replied. “But I have a proposition to bring to the table to.” Paida had taught her people to speak when they needed to. He just continued to explain himself. “The Doschians have a monopoly on rocket launches and IBSA.” Imperial Bureau of Space Aviation. “Is easy with their money. If we show we’re willing, the chance of getting support that way is more likely than not.”

“What do you propose?” Paida asked.

“After this is done.” Jean-Philippe tapped the piece of paper with RRA propositions. “I can host meetings with Rancais companies and forward them the idea. Keep it under wraps, no announcements for now but if they’re able to come up with an idea. We forward it to IBSA.”

“I like that.” Marlene said.

Petre Ellenvre, minister of education nodded along. “I could do the same for schools across the country. We could stick it into the RRA propositions too.”

“Excellent.” Paida suggested. “Go ahead, you have my full blessing.” She would have never thought of that, but that was why she had hired this man who had somehow gone from cutting lumber to winning office. If anyone would think to spy on the Doschians, it would be a fellow with that sort of ambition.

From the other side of the table, the minister of housing raised his hands. A moustached fellow who had been a captain in the war. Jean Tailinger. “This week Goddess, I think you should attend the opening of the first homes constructed by the RRA if you may. It would be symbolic if you handed the first keys to the house. The families have already been chosen.”

“Of course.” Paida said. She had not forgotten about that but there was no need to be rude. “Thank you for reminding me.” Whether it was the hope of a new government, the end of White Pantheon rule, the conclusion of Anarchia’s civil war, or maybe it was the fact that all three had resulted in a total collapse of Rancais’ housing market and the RRA’s overbuilding had kept prices down, already doctors were reporting that there would be a baby boom soon. “Have you seen them Jean?” Paida asked.

“Yes of course.” Jean said. “They’re nice people. Very quaint, the wife is expecting twins.” Paida smiled and rolled her violet eyes.

“I meant the homes.”

The small chuckles at the mistake ended quickly and Jean blushed. “Of course, of course.” He repeated himself stroking his moustache. “They’re of excellent quality. There’s even a garden.”

“Habitable? No cheap materials as they said?” Paida had been worried when she heard how quickly the RRA was completing these places.

“All out of cinder brick and furnished modestly.” Jean said. “They’re using Rancais’ National Mages and bringing more in from Arcadia to keep the pace.”

“Excellent.” Paida said. “Well done on the inspections.” She sighed with relief. “That’s a worry down. Is there anything else anyone would like to report?”

Jean-Philippe stood up and walked to one of the nearby cabinets as he spoke. “There is actually. I kept it here so that the seal wouldn’t smudge.” He opened a small cabinet of red wood from Kirinyaa. “Marshal Iliyal Tremali has sent a letter.” Paida crooked an eyebrow and let out an even more crooked smile. Excuse her? Iliyal Tremali was requesting something? Since when did the elf request?

“What does he want?” Paida asked.

“I do not know.” Jean-Phillippe trailed off as he brought the letter back. “It’s not my place to open sealed letters.” Paida’s chancellor extended his arm with the envelope. It did have a seal, of a sword and a crowd. It would have been Arascus’ save for the fact that Tremali was written on the corner. Paida cracked the seal and pulled the letter out.

True, he was an elf and all elves had pretty handwriting, but Paida could not help but smile whenever she got a letter from Tremali. From Malam, Anassa, Arascus and Helenna, it was much the same. Some people knew how to the very letters themselves into art. Paida read, she couldn’t stop the humoured smile at the fact that Iliyal still did not call her a Goddess. It wasn’t even infuriating, there was something off with him that the title was only reserved for Kassandora.

To Paida, of Rancais

I am unaware of your sources, so I will run through the situation myself. Goddess Kassandora, Neneria, Baalka, Neneria, Anassa & Elassa have left to assist the Second Expedition. God Arascus & Kavaa are in the UNN. The only major Divines left on the surface are Olephia, Malam & Helenna. The Seal of Arascus has fallen into my hands. For the immediate time being and much to my dismay, I have been made been the Emperor’s Hand.

Rarely do I make requests instead of commands. Nevertheless, it is a civilian matter and not a military one at this point so orders are unnecessary. This is an issue for the government of Rancais. Any palace which falls under the old Epan Community National Heritage Scheme shall do. You are aware of how I operate and that reasoning is stated when reasoning is an implicit threat: I know the Heritage Scheme protected buildings from modern electronics and makeovers. An attempt to spy on the Emperor’s Hand will be much akin to spying on the Emperor himself and will be handled with the same consequences.

Save for increased traffic from Imperial Officials who will be reporting to me, I have no intention of meddling within the national affairs of Rancais lest they pertain to the Empire at large.

In exchange for this, I am telling you to prepare for a meeting with Helenna about your Norn Declaration.

The reason for choosing Rancais is one that is simple and it is why I have made it a request rather than a command: I am fond of the amicable weather, the wine and Rancais sits well upon my ears. God Arascus has ordered me to go somewhere I enjoy.

Paida had to re-read the letter a few times. That last line sounded almost apologetic for what it was saying

It was no surprise Tremali would be made the stand-in for Arascus, the elf had single-handedly managed to keep the remnants of Arascus’ loyalists going strong for a thousand years in Pantheon. If there was anything that the Empire rewarded, it was diligence. “Phone.” Paida held out her hand and Jean-Phillipe immediately ran off to one of the nearby bookshelves that had the wired phone used for internal communications. She dropped the letter on the table for the rest of the cabinet to read. “Thoughts?”

The decision was already made, she just wanted to see if anyone needed to be fired today.

No one was stupid enough to suggest that they turn him down.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep