The majority of the masses wish for command without understanding it. I am truly graced by Fate in this moment, for from the first few years, I quickly learned the actual price of command: responsibility. For responsibility is a burden that is as small as a grain of sand, yet as heavy as a mountain. It is utterly worthless. Only the wrong, the insane and the stupid accept responsibility. It is akin to asking whether one would like shackles around their ankles?

‘And what are these shackles for?’ I hear you ask. Nothing. They are for nothing. They are shackles for the sake of shackles themselves, yet to truly be a prisoner of command, one needs to be shackled. Worst yet, these are not shackles of mithril or even steel. These are shackles of paper, if that. These shackles can be broken with the flick of a wrist and one may escape from prison at any time, yet then they can never return to it. Failure locks away the door.

So no, do ask for the power to command entire nations. I could provide it to you, the only reason I would provide it for you is for the sake of tearing you down. Be happy with your command over your servants and your maids. Be happy that your command stretches to what bed you sleep in, what drink enters your body, what clothes are on your back. You do not realise what sort of simple freedoms you possess from the fact you are not in charge.

Any who foolishly ask this question shall be given command of a state I shall target immediately. Your last words will be a report on how tight the shackles of responsibility squeeze.

– A speech given by Goddess Malam, of Hatred, to the inner circle of one of her cults, dated to before the Great War.

General Menith looked over the small town of Toresilas. Even though it was further north than even Esberia’s capital, they had little hope of holding Aledo. The city had more than three million people, evacuation efforts were still ongoing. Toresilas sat on a similar junction of rail and highways and had only twenty-five thousand inhabitants to move. That was much easier to clear out, now the roads could be thoroughly pulverized by the treads of vehicles much too heavy for them.

South of the town was a river, the buildings themselves sat on an outcrop of rocks which could be called a hill. All low and yellow, like most of the stone in this country. Their roofs were only slight curved down, to drain away on rain rather than the steep slopes that were in the rest of Epa that had to stand against snow. The men on base would be tasked with logistics later, but there was no point establishing trenches. Engineers and magicians were busy turning the town into an anthill, earthquakes had already damaged half the structures here. If they hoped to hold against the Ashfront, that was the only way. The river would have to serve as the main block of bodies, if it turned to sludge in the ash…

General Menith tried not to think about that, he just watched a team of mages in dark clothes, brown hoods and capes on their backs, as they paced back and forth between a tank and then to a hole as they tried to eye the measurements. He had revied the footage brought home by the One-Seventeenth and then both the film and the data collected by the Salvation Squadron. Anything caught on the surface of the Ashfront was doomed to die. There was no other way about it. Anything but the most powerful of Divines. Menith turned to the four most powerful Divines he had been assigned.

Maisara and Fortia side-by-side, staring down across the environment, dressed in their plate. From the conversation that he had overhead on the train, it was the same style but not the exact same sets as had been used in the great war. A full plate on the cuirass, scale mail for the skirt, tall boots, fashioned out of plate, a similar design to protect the arms. Also overheard, their regeneration wasn’t the same as Fer’s, both relied on sheer speed and skill to dodge attacks rather than trying to withstand them.

And next to them, stood a step away, were Anassa and Irinika. Menith had not been all too happy with Fortia and Maisara already, he didn’t know Irinika, but Anassa had made him want to throw up just from the woman’s reputation that spread amongst the soldiers. The woman only followed orders when it was from a person she respected, that list included Iliyal, Arascus and Kassandora. Irinika, General Menith did not even try to look at. The sheer darkness that engulfed her from foot to chest and spread out like a dress hurt to look at. His elven eyes tried to stare deeper to find any sort of crease or detail on them, but instead it was like staring into an abyss. The only blemish of colour on her, save the skin, was the pipe in her hands from which smoke trailed. She had needed her own room on the train, effectively being locked away because apparently, a few hour’s break was too much to ask. Anassa, next to her, wore a pristine dress of spotless crimson.

All four stared at him as if they were waiting for something. Birds flew in the air above him, north, no doubt advancing from the Ashfront that was pushing into Esberia. Troops had been sent south, data from Zalewski from was also being used, long-range artillery would be tested, but they were effectively shooting blind. “I have been told to pair you up for operations.” Menith said, making sure his voice did not crack.

Irinika smiled like a viper, she bent down to look past Anassa at the pair of White Pantheon defectors. “My my.” She cooed. “Well I do declare it will be a pleasure working with one of you.”

She stopped. Maisara and Fortia said nothing. Anassa crossed her arms and turned to the Goddesses of Peace & Order as if they were zoo animals. “I would prefer if you would work it between yourselves.”

“I thought I would be commanding.” Fortia said quickly, ignoring Irinika and Anassa entirely.

Menith stared at the grand Goddess of Peace for a moment, unsure of what to say. What had Iliyal and Kassandora told her exactly? Surely she hadn’t thought that someone who had been leading the White Pantheon a month ago would be given command over an entire front? Irinika chuckled. “My my Fortia. Looks like you were mistaken.”

“Both you Goddess, and Goddess Maisara.” General Menith smoothed his black coat and readjusted his cap as he spoke. He knew it was a sign of nervousness, he was already on the edge. “I have decided to give you command over battles and individual units.” As quickly as he could, a reason was up made that could explain it. Hindsight could explain anything after all. “I mean no offense Goddess, but the grander logistical network…” He trailed off. Was he about to call the Goddess that served as the Grand Marshal for the White Pantheon during the Great War inept at logistics? Those were the bread and butter of every officer. “I have more experience with in the Imperial context. I am sure you can manage military strategy better than I.”

Maisara bristled, but Fortia just smiled. There was no joy in it, she saw right through his words. “General Menith, I have been granted the rank of General-Divine under the Emperor’s seal.”

“General Divine is equivalent to General.” Anassa said. “The Divinity part only means that you shouldn’t stay in an officer’s tent.”

Fortia straightened and sighed, turning to face Anassa. “Of all Divines to talk to me like that Anassa, I think you are forget yourself.”

Irinika’s chuckle sent a shiver even down Menith’s spine. “Do not threaten my sisters so openly, of Peace.”

Menith tried to regain control over the situation before it spiralled into argument. “Both General-Divines will be given parts of the front to manage.” He said quickly. “The grander strategy has already been set. I would rather your strategic and tactical prowess be used in direct engagement.” That was as diplomatic as he could put ‘I would rather you do the dirty work for me.’

“I can see the Kassandora in you.” Fortia said, was she joking? Menith didn’t really know. How did Iliyal deal with these creatures on the regular? “Very well. So? Is there anything else I should know? Anything I should not do?” She crossed her arms and stared Menith down. Even though he was an elf, this woman still had more than twice his height. She was almost as tall as Fer.

“There are none, I will not interlude whatsoever.” Basically, he never wanted to talk with creatures that could kill him on the spot and then receive little more than a slap on the wrist for it ever again. Fortia and Maisara may not do it, but Anassa… Well, it had been known that she took anger out on the men she was training. “But I have been told that you should pair up.”

“And I assume it can’t be myself with Irinika?” Anassa said. “No, that would be too simple.”

“Sister please.” Irinika said. “Do not embarrass yourself, of course it won’t be that.” That shut Anassa up. She just made a slightly apologetic bow to Irinika.

“I want Irinika.” Maisara spoke out of the blue in her deep tone. Fortia opened her mouth, her eyes went wide. Then she turned to Maisara.

“I want Irinika too.” Fortia said and Maisara pursed her lips as if she was trying to contain laughter.

Menith wanted to die. This had to end. The other two then. He turned to the Daughter-Goddesses of Arascus, the Princesses of the Empire. “The choice is yours.”

Irinika flicked her dark eyes to Anassa. “You first.”

“I want Fortia.” Anassa said.

“Oh my my.” Irinika chuckled, finally pulling her pipe out of her lips. It had stopped smoking. “What a conundrum, for I also wish to be paired with our bronze guardian of Peace.” She said absent-mindedly as if this problem wasn’t one of tactical necessity and instead just a passing thought. She reached into… through, the darkness that made up her clothes and pulled out a handful of tobacco, shook her pipe, emptied the ashes and began stuffing it again.

Menith suddenly realised that he had a shred of wanting to live in his mind, and he quickly stamped it out. “There has to be a way.” He said.

Maisara had an answer. “Roll dice on it.”

“Do you have dice?” Anassa asked.

“I’m a soldier, of course I do, it’s part of the kit.” Maisara replied. Of course she did.

“They’re not weighted, are they?” Anassa again, of course it was.

“What am I the Goddess of again?” The Goddess of Order asked. She reached onto her belt, clicked open a small compartment and brought out a pair of dice. Irinika lit her pipe again and sounded as if she was in a moment of ecstasy for a moment. Menith had tasted the soldier’s cigarettes, surely tobacco was not that good. “There.” Maisara passed her dice to Anassa. “Roll.”

“Do you know who I am?” Anassa asked. She took the dice and raised her hand. A perfectly flat, perfectly crimson, perfectly without blemish, square appeared in front of her. Without a second word, she threw. A perfect twelve almost immediately. Maisara just stared at the dice.

“They didn’t even bounce.” She said. “You cheated.”

“Did I?” Anassa asked to Irinika’s chuckling. The Goddess of Darkness picked up the dice and threw them. They landed just as perfectly, another twelve.

“Party tricks Ana, party tricks.” Menith made a pleading look to Fortia, then to Maisara, then to the Imperial Princesses. Did he only get sent off with these four as some kind of punishment? Had a test been failed? “I do declare that the dice won’t work Maisara, both my sister and I are simply too skilled at them.”

“How did you even do that?” Maisara asked.

“A lady never shares her secrets.” Irinika said. The dice bounced off the table, seemingly off nothing, then landed flat into a two and a four. Suddenly, both rolled over, pushed by their own shadows to make a six and a six. “But as a queen, I do enjoy telling.”

Menith did not even what that meant. He stared at them. There was no solution to this. Whatever decision he made, he would be blamed for. Somehow, his head would roll. Maisara’s axe or Anassa’s sorcery would make sure of that. He was certain of it. He pulled out his phone immediately to the apparent joy of Irinika, who chuckled as she smoked. The table curled into a red ball and handed Maisara’s dice back to the Goddess of Order, who stood there stunned. “Thank you?” She asked.

“Don’t mention it sweetheart.” Anassa replied immediately as if she had been prepared with that one. Fortia put her hand on Maisara’s. More birds flew over them, another train arrived in Toresilas from the north, more military machinery was being driven off its carts. Tracked artillery this time. A unit was setting off in trucks towards the south.

Maisara squeezed Fortia’s hand instead of saying anything as Menith scrolled to Iliyal’s number as quickly as he could.

Iliyal pulled away from the map of southern Epa. The western fleet was in danger. The eastern fleet could potentially retreat further, past Gracja, but the western fleet? The Esberian ashfront would eventually swallow Arseille even if Rilia itself held. He checked his ringing phone: General Menith. Well, this early into his deployment, it wouldn’t be a battle yet. That left precisely one problem he could be facing.

“This is General Menith speaking.” Menith said spoke quickly into the phone as if it was his only lifeline. “Marshal Tremali, I have an issue.” The daggers Anassa was suddenly staring at him did not help. Fortia rolled her eyes.

“You are treating us like children.” Fortia said.

“I do ponder as to why.” Irinika said absentmindedly.

“Do you always speak like that?” Maisara suddenly asked.

Irinika, of course, had a reply. “Do you perchance take issue with my manner of vocalized verbiage?”

Iliyal sighed through the other side of the phone. “I hear your problem.” He said. “Do you have the Goddess’s number?” If it was anyone else asking, the question would be what Goddess. Since it was Iliyal, Menith knew exactly who the elf was referring to.

“I do.” Menith said.

“Then let me give you a lesson quickly, one I should have given you long ago.” Iliyal spoke, the rustling of papers was heard through the other side. “Most Divines, you are call rank upon. The family, the Pantheon, you bring in help for. Every time, until you don’t need to. You won’t need to when things are dire. Don’t give them too much free time. That is all. I hate the phrase but good luck General, you will need it.” And with that, Iliyal dropped the call.

“We’re not in a theatre.” Maisara said. Irinika turned and looked up directly at the sun in the discoloured blue-grey sky above them.

“Is life not the greatest stage Maisara?” Irinika asked. “Although I understand a soul like yours has no space for the arts.”

“Irinika.” Fortia said. “Please, we do not wish to start argument here.”

General Menith saw his thumb hover and tremble as he hovered over Kassandora’s name. He had never rang the Goddess before, it should be done only in times of utter crisis, her time was precious, she was always working. She… “Fortia, how precious are you?” Irinika said. “Please.” She pulled her pipe out from her lips and indicated where Of Peace and Of Order were holding hands. “I never pegged you down as the sort to have such relationships.” From Fortia’s face, she was about to rip Irinika apart. If this was not a crisis, then Menith did not know what the word meant.

Arascus looked up at Kassandora. Her phone was on the table of the train carriage between them. He had been thinking of realistic solutions to the thirty-thousand mile ritual. Surely they would have to deal with the very curvature of the planet at that point, wouldn’t they? He nodded to the phone as Kassandora was ripped from her own silent plans as well. “What do you think that is for?”

“He has Iri, Ana, Fortia and Maisara under him.” Kassandora said. “What do you think it could be for?”

“Goddess Kassandora, this is General Menith speaking. I am…” He stared up at the four giants before him. Why couldn’t he have been assigned Fer and Olephia instead? Those two had reputations for being famously easy to get along with? Or Kavaa even. She apparently just followed orders and didn’t care for anything else. Or anyone else? Why all four?

“Are you dealing with my sisters?” Kassandora asked, always straight to the point.

“And Of Peace and Of Order.”

“Is it the pairing?”

“Yes Goddess.” Menith said.

“Put me on loudspeaker.” The elf immediately followed the order, that he could do. Perfectly.

“I cannot believe you are such a coward you rang Kass of all people.” Anassa said bitterly.

Menith did not know how to respond, Kassandora responded for him. Truly the Goddess of War, he suddenly understood why Iliyal had such respect for her. “Irinika is with Fortia. Maisara is with Anassa.”

“Oh my my Kassie.” Irinika leaned down to speak into the phone. “And what reasoning is there in that?”

“Because I said so and because you follow orders.” Kassandora dropped the call. Irinika was suddenly left looking at a picture of Menith with golden-haired Teresia, his sweetheart back in Norje. She pulled away and put the pipe between her lips.

“Well.” She said, her tone losing its usual flare. “I suppose that puts an end to it.” She turned to Fortia, she was back in full swing now, talking even with the pipe in her lips. “I daresay I look forward to working with you.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep