This report, I shall begin with a reminder of Ardan history since it seems that we’ve all began to forget what exactly we are facing. As we know from our discussions with the White Pantheon, Arda went through a century they call the “Age of Worldbreaking”. This, as they call it Worldbreaking, shattered their world, formed their modern continents and their modern geography. For something or someone to have survived Worldbreaking was so rare that they even their Gods delineate themselves between ‘Pre-‘ and ‘Post-‘ Worldbreaking breeds. Worldbreaking can only be compared to the Days of Cataclysm in Tartarus.

Yet there are two differences, for us, Cataclysm lasted but seven days. For them, Worldbreaking lasted a century. For us, Cataclysm was a natural, geological process of our own world. For them, Worldbreaking was brought on by their own rage. All who have served in Arda in the first Arascan War will remember the White Pantheon Archmages and their tremendous powers. I ask that we do not forget them, and I ask that we stop pretending they no longer exist. It is obvious that the stipulations detailing limits on magic have been broken.

Thus, I will begin with my rather curt report of Force Blaze. It’s intention was to enter the lands of ash and then circle back around the south to encircle the Imperial Army that is stalling our efforts into Kirinyaa. Force Blaze no longer exists. There were no survivors from the armies that were hit. Reinforcements to General Saktos, now presumed dead, found a section of ground which they struggled to even describe. Reports range from total cleansing of our own ashcover, to new valleys being carved out where we have confirmed the terrain was flat, to our dead being buried under stone and rubble that is obviously not present in the lands of Arda we are close by. I have attached the individual reports to this document.

Additionally, Spewer Nine can be presumed to have been caught by the weapon as Ashen Skies in the South Eastern fronts are collapsing.

Some sense can be made of them though. Whatever hit our forces obviously had a trajectory which came from the lands of ash themselves. This suggests that these lands are actually inhabited, if not by civilians then by the military at the very least. Likewise, investigation by Flame-Seerers shows confirms heavy magical residue in the air. The scars along the ground are reminiscent to hurricane attacks in the Arascan War, although far greater. There is no residue that would imply flooding of such a scale and the sand is not scorched to glass as would be done with pyromancy. Whereas it is possible that the Ardans have figured out a method to deal with geomancy’s land displacement, my gut feeling points to their Aeromancy.

Nevertheless, Aeromancy on such a scale was only possible by Elassa of Magic. Prince Aldron’s spies report that Elassa is working on some project in Arcadia and that she does not leave the War-College. We know that they are a jealous people and that Divines do not allow their demesnes to be expanded. Thus, I can only come to one logical conclusion. This magic was the result of non-Divine magicians. Aldron’s reports about the lack of general assimilation of magicians in the general world now may have a reason for them: with the lack of the duties they were performing in the past, such as fertilizing fields, drought control and general construction, they have retreated from general society to scheme up of grander magicry.

One thing is certain, we were wrong. The Empire has not replaced Ardan Magic for Ardan Technology. Ardan Magic still exists.

I would personally argue that it exists in a form more terrible than it has ever existed.

– “Force Blaze Report”, written by Southern-Marshal Pelinkol.

Kavaa stood by Kassandora on a high bridge as they watched the defence of Hold Levhen perform its own finishing touches. There were three main entrances, with offshoots and emergency routes that had been collapsed by Dwarven miners and Imperial explosives. The plans of digging a new route to the surface had been abandoned when the depth was calculated. They would need Anassa or Elassa to do it in time, the former was busy slowing a Tartarian force down that was making its way to the core Holds. The latter was somewhere up above, doing something presumably. Kavaa did not know or care.

“I’ve blessed everyone.” Kavaa said. Every single damn soul, even the dwarves had been given her gift of perfect life. The men had not slept here for a week now, as Kavaa’s blessing eased their fatigue instead. Rationing was being eased in, although at the rate they were going, Levhen had several month’s of food nevertheless. Kavaa had little to state on that matter, it was standard siege preparations. The Clerics who been assigned to the retreating forces to Levhen had been made into instructors, every hour they would hold sessions with another few hundred men to practice Kavaa’s healing.

“How long could you immortalize them for?” Kassandora asked. They stood close to one of Levhen’s suns. A massive, perfectly spherical shape so inundated with runework that not a section of it was bare stone or metal or whatever material the dwarves used to fashion them. From this high bridge, crenulated as everything in Levhen was, they watched spotlights be moved about to get better angles at the Hold’s massive gates of bronze.

“Depends on how many there are.” Kavaa answered. Beyond those gates, the materials that would have been used to activate the Onyx Decree for this Hold were being dragged out of the gate. Barrels of mercury carried on the backs of animated skeletons, still serving an oath of duty and vengeance, marched out. Crates of cinnabar crushed into a pulp to make toxic gas, along with lead. Sulphur for explosives. The undead even handled carried satchels of uranium powder as well. Hopefully it would be breathed in. Kassandora had admitted there was no tactical purpose in that last one, it would be a mere irritant and radiation sickness would take weeks before it began, all it served was to quench Imperial and Dwarven spite and a hunger for revenge.

“Hold onto it and be there when needed.” Kassandora said. “I’m not going to micromanage you.” Kavaa sighed as a pair of tanks once again rolled out of their positions. They were being instructed by an officer. The armour was to be placed far enough to where it could still fire, but close enough to serve as a roadblock.

“I hate when you say it like that.” Kavaa admitted. Kassie had gone cold since they met up. The Goddess of Health was sure that there was still something flame between them, but sometimes it felt as if that flame had been reduced to mere cinders.” The dwarves had moved their golems, automatons and statues away from the roads, or rolled them over to serve to serve as more roadblocks. Levhen had a countless of these things. The fifty thousand men of the Second Expedition’s retreat that had been directed into the Armoury-Hold, the eight thousand dwarves that still breathed, twenty times that in their moving skeletons, were a mere speck. The council of this Hold didn’t even know how many mechanical warriors lay unmoving, but it could range from two to five million.

“How else should I say it?” Kassandora replied broodingly. The top two levels of Hold Levhen had been lit up with electronic lighting, there were forty-four levels in total. The last time a dwarf had ventured even five floors down was in the Great War, a thousand years ago.

“I don’t know.” Kavaa said. Behind the two Goddesses, both dressed in the black of Imperial Divinity, a dozen stone statues stood witness to their little spat. “Not like that.”

“Then apologies.” Kassandora said. “You know me.”

“I do know you.” Kavaa said. “That’s why I want you to talk to me normally.”

“I try.” Kassandora said. A mage soared from one side of the Hold to the other to assist in the manufacture of a new bridge and the removal of another. His team followed him.

Kavaa sighed. Kassandora returned her sigh. To their side sat Praerion and Immayoi on their massive thrones. Not the scale of titans, but close. Massive machines of stone and metal that apparently still bore their creator’s souls. Holdmaster Orius, the dwarf in charge of this hold, said that every decade or so, one of them would move their finger or something akin to that. “Kass.”

“What?” Kassandora snapped.

And Kavaa felt at a loss for words. “I’m sorry.” It was all she could muster at this point. She had apologized maybe everyday.

“We like each other.” Kassandora said in that cold voice of hers. This was the Goddess of War speaking, not the Kassandora. “That is a fact. I like you Kavaa, one day, we will sit on a beach and drink fine gins and whiskeys. Now is not the time.”

“The Hold is encircled Kass.” News had come that Tartarus had breached the junctions near the Core Holds. Kavaa didn’t know how it was going up above, hopefully well, she knew they had scored victories here and there, but down here, there had been no time for the remnants of the Second Expedition to regroup. A fifth of it had been cut off further east, near the route that the First Expedition had taken. Neneria had been asked to assist, although she reported soulless Legion stalking her.

“I know.” Kassandora replied. “We’ll make it.”

“I’m scared we won’t.”

“You stayed, did you not?” Kassandora asked. “Now is not the time to back out.”

“Of course not.” Kavaa replied with the same tone she would to Fortia. “Kass, I don’t care whether we get out of here alive or dead.”

“I do.”

“You know what I mean.” Kavaa replied. Now that she was getting angry, she wasn’t going to entertain these games with Kassandora. “And frankly, I don’t think you do anyway.” Kassandora just shrugged. That was the most annoying part. Kavaa had seen it in back in Arika when they had first met up with how the Goddess of War treated mortals. Some things, she simply would not engage on, to her, it was not worth the time. “I just don’t want to die like this.”

That one hurt to say.

When Fortia had sent Kavaa into Erdely for the sake of tying down Fer, it had been a mere annoyance. Back then, death was as far away as the Goddess of Beasthood. And Kavaa had faced head on, almost uncaring of whether she would see the next morning. In the White Pantheon, it had been much the same. Walking off the mountain had been out of the question, but would it had really mattered if Kavaa just fell asleep and never woke up? And now?

It shouldn’t hurt to say. Kavaa had said it before in fact. But this time, it did. Kassandora reached out to Kavaa and wrapped her fingers around Kavaa’s. “Iniri and Olephia are digging to the World-Core, they will turn it on, we will be fine.” Cold tone, not Kassie speaking.

Kavaa pulled her hand away. “Don’t talk to me about strategy Kass. I know how to follow orders.” Kassandora just took a deep breath and remained silent. “But we both know the holes in the plan.” There was no point to even state them. The council of Klavdiv didn’t even know how much of the World-Core they had flooded to keep it safe, Iniri nor Olephia were sending progress reports save for the fact that excavation was continuing, the matter of reignition was its own problem. Arascus had stated that Olephia herself could be able to give it enough power to set it alight again. Everyone believed in those words.

Kavaa didn’t bother questioning the God of Pride. It was a thread to hang onto. The Goddess of Uncreation would re-light the World Core because her father believed in her, and so Kavaa would, and so the entire Empire believed it would. After all, if she could not, then who could? “Kavaa.” Kassandora said, her tone softer. “I am sure you have talked with a great many people about me, much to my dismay. This is not my first rodeo, I will be fine. Don’t try to turn your precious little heart into a battering ram.”

Kavaa just stood there. This was it. She knew this was it. Neneria had told her it would come. So did Malam. Everyone did. Even Arascus had confirmed it. Kassandora had begun the pattern when she left Allasaria and she had continued it her entire life. Not until Arascus… Not until a man so whose delusions were so shiningly marvellous that they grandeurized everyone around them…

Why was she even trying to negotiate? This wasn’t a negotiation. Precious little heart? Who did Kassandora think she was? Goddess of War? What a flimsy little dominion. “Goddess of Life Kassandora. Don’t insult me like that. Precious little heart? Stop your pretence of sociopathy, you’re not close to burning out. Not close at fucking all. Precious little heart? Take your little toy soldiers and play in the sandpit as I clean up the shit of humanity. Fucking coward.”

Kavaa did not even turn her head to see Kassandora smile. “That’s more like it.”

“Is it?” Kavaa asked. “Your father doesn’t like me swearing, he said so himself.”

“You being polite doesn’t fit.” Kassandora replied. She grasped at Kavaa’s hand. Kavaa just balled her fist and didn’t let it be taken.

“I don’t care. We both know I have a crass tongue.” Kavaa snapped back. “And I’m not here to act as a doctor, I’m here as Kavaa and I want to talk to Kassandora, not an overemployed bum.”

Kassandora chuckled. “I’ve never heard that one before.” She said. “Not once, in all my years, do you believe it?”

“Whatever.” Kavaa said. “I come to you because I want to make up and I want to put it past us. You are fucking impossible.” Now that she was on a roll, the words had started to flow and she couldn’t stop herself. “Absolutely the fucking worst. I hate that you’ve made me this way and I hate that I played into it but now it’s done and so I don’t fucking care Kass. Precious little heart? Fuck off with your speeches and superiorities Kass. What a fortress you are, what a grand, genius fortress. Uncritiqued by everyone, even fucking Fortia bows down to you for strategic advice. If it were up to me, we should have buried you below Olympiada and not on it back then but oh no, not Allasaria’s precious Kassandora, not Fortia’s favourite nemesis, not Maisara’s problem-solver, not fucking Elassa’s ear to bounce managerial feedback off. Oh no. The Goddess so precious that even though she led Arascus’ Legions, she’s too fucking useful to waste on execution. That was the fucking argument Kass. That was it. And we all fucking agreed on it back then. Every single one of us, oh no, don’t throw her away, she’s so fucking useful.” Kassandora came closer to Kavaa.

“Get off your fucking high horse and speak to me like a human because I will not fucking entertain your feedback or your demands. I’m not strong enough to smack you down and you knew that when you asked it of me. We both fucking did. I shouldn’t have agreed it to it. I know I shouldn’t. Frankly, as I stand here and talk to you now, I don’t even know if you needed my help or not back then. You just moped about on a fucking hill in the middle of nowhere and thought of strategy and then got moving again. Fucking wonderful! A-Star work right there, top fucking grades. Good one Kass.” Kavaa made her tone as bitter as possible, even though she hated what she was saying. “I am so proud of you.”

“Kavaa…” Kassandora just whispered.

“Should I tell you why you listen to Fer and Arascus. It’s a fucking simple reason and it’s one I realised back when we were in Baalka’s mind. When I felt the fear and I looked to you and saw you fucking standing there stone-faced thinking about ending Baalka’s life. I’m sure you didn’t fucking like it, I don’t even fucking care. You did what was right and let’s not mope about and pretend it was wrong. If Arascus had not intervened, then the situation was that either Baalka would die, or the four of us would die. One Goddess or Four Goddesses, it’s maths so easy even fucking children can understand it.”

“Ka…” Kassandora said.

“Arascus is stronger than you. Fer is stronger than you. You step out of line with them and Fer will pin you to the ground or break your arm and Arascus would do the exact same fucking thing if push came to shove. That’s why you listen to them because they respect you only insofar that you’re a military genius but that’s fucking it. How you managed to convince the rest of the world you’re an example to idolize is beyond me. Malam and Helenna should take notes because you’ve outdone Hatred and Love you fucking idiot, liar, cold bitch.”

Kassandora hugged Kavaa and leaned down to bury her face on her shoulder. Kavaa just stood there, taking a deep breath, closed her eyes, felt herself tear up, and wrapped her hands around Kassandora. She shouldn’t have said any of that and if they replayed the situation a million times over, she would say the exact same thing. It needed to be fucking said in the exact same way that a mother needed to be told her child was dead because Kavaa had gotten somewhere late. She should… No.

If there was one thing that Kavaa knew, it was that she should not apologize. An apology was only salt in the wound. Apologies did not bring children back and they did not make words unsaid. Something should be said. Kavaa kept her eyes closed. She had no clue what. “I’m sorry.” Kassandora whispered, her voice breaking. “I really am.”

Kavaa just stood there and massaged Kassandora’s back. Even through the coat, the Goddess of War was warm. She could feel the woman’s heart rapidly beat, hear it even. Kavaa was sure Kassandora could hear hers. “Don’t push me away because I’m a disgusting little emotional-leech and I’ve latched onto you now.” Kavaa whispered. “It would kill me.”

Kassandora made a broken half-laugh, half-cry by Kavaa’s side. “You’re not!”

“I know.” Kavaa said. “I know. I said it before, I’m not going to be your moral guide or your compass Kassie. I’m not asking this time. I’m just not going to do it. I can’t fix you Kassie. I can’t fix you and I don’t care that I can’t. I…”

“I-I k-kn-know.” Kassandora said through cries.

“I’m here for you.” Kavaa whispered. She should say it. She knew she should. She had to say it. If not now, then when? “I love you.”

Kassandora wailed into Kavaa’s side.

Two days until Tartarian Forces reach Levhen West. Three Days for Levhen South. Five Days until Levhen North sees contact.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep