What Malam and Helenna possess is an intricate tongue and wits tempered by caution, cowardice and ruthlessness and decisiveness. It is an odd mix to some extent, one that is rare amongst Divinity. Those who are truly powerful of us never learn how to fear, those who are powerless never learn how to make a decision. Yet both were created during times when humanity needed to move, and when it knew nothing but fear. It is said that the two effectively ended the Age of Monsters. Back then, it had not been through power or individual strength, it was through collective unity. Not many stories remain, what has is recorded in my Archive. Writing was not common back then, most of these were oral recordings before being transcribed down, around the time of the Concordats.

Helenna, Arda’s Goddess of Love, talk of a being that appeared during a time of crisis. Stories differ, in some accounts, she appeared in a tribe surrounded, in others, she appeared in a cave where survivors were hiding. There is another where she came about in the middle of a caravan. Whatever the finer details are, it can be taken that Helenna was one of the unfortunate ones of us who materialized in the middle of civilization.

But after that major difference, the tales descend into similarities. Her love was a wall behind which humanity was safe. Shapeshifters of all kinds would be sniffed out, not through high-magic but through the certainty that came about with strong bonds. Her lands became refuges for mankind. Her journey can be tracked precisely to wherever communal halls are found. Some, such as in the recently uncovered Emain Nacha, still hold records of the judgements that went down in those halls. Transcripts in pictographs are found, of gossip and facts and mundane statements about the local villagers. These are not books, the leading theory is that they were files of information, used to cross-reference against any shapeshifters who tried to wander into camps.

Malam, of Hatred, is almost the complete opposite. Her apotheosis is even less known but it is certain that she is a creature of the wilderness. There is not a single tale that talk of her appearing, or of her raising, as Helenna has. Malam raised herself, in the wilds, during the Age of Monsters. In theory, she should have died. The woman is a competent fighter, to some extent, but she lacks the physical powers even of Kassandora, much less of Fer or Fortia or Arascus, who heralded after her. Nevertheless, during the Great War, her positions always seemed relatively unguarded. Whereas this was stated previously, in the chapters surrounding Malam, it could be that she does possess some sort of power and instead chooses not to use it.

Whereas Helenna’s people fortified, Malam’s moved out. Archaeology reveals her locations through mass graves filled with inhuman bones. One made refuges, the other burned down forests that were regrowing after the purifying blaze that was the end of the Age of Gaia. They did not leave survivors. They did not take prisoners, they simply scoured. Moving from location to location, hordes that nothing left to lose.

In this regard, there is a theory to be drawn. Malam and Helenna and their methodologies set about the foundation to our methods of governance. Whether it is because of the times, or whether it is because of them, or whether it is because humanity is naturally paranoid, we do not know. Even today, we do not need to draw many lines to reach Helenna’s primitive, self-regulating tribe model and the structure of the family or the state. Likewise, what Malam did back then was not a counter-strike. It was the invention of warfare. I daresay that I agree with the theory, if Malam had not been as swift or decisive in her pillaging, then we would not have the Kassandora that we have today.

– Excerpt from “The Archive of Arda”, written by Goddess Elassa, of Magic.

Paida stared at the next fresh set of reports at her desk. The sun outside had set, Aris had gone to sleep. Silent now, more than ever. The war had drained it of people, the reveal of the succubi in the deeps had sent them into a paranoia. The Goddess of Rancais pulled her eyes away from the page: Aluminium beam requests

from Arascus and towards the window.

Never had Aris stood so silent and never had it stood so bright. The city was still alive, it was just empty. Almost every window in every tall skyscraper had its light switched on. Figures even moved about in them still. The university buildings were still working, smoke still blew from the manufactories in the city’s east. Grand towers were lit up with lights, bearing both flags of Rancais and of the Empire. And yet, the city was empty.

Not a single soul moved on the streets, the most was a stray rat which raced from behind a bin, looked around, and dashed across the road to get to the shelter of the darkness. Every car was parked or put into a garage. No music played outside, even the gaggles of boys who didn’t know any better from the universities were missing. Police did not patrol. It was a painting of a city, life was in it, behind every window, but the outside air was seemingly toxic to breath.

Paida did not blame them. She herself did not want to go outside if there were succubi in the city. The fire yesterday had been all over the local news. It had even made it to the main Imperial stations, until talk of the war drove it out the cycle. She took a deep breath, wondered how Saksma was doing with Olonia, Of Lubska was apparently still recovering from her Ibya expedition, and she turned back to the reports. More aluminium, requested by Arcadia of all fucking places. First steel, now aluminium, what were they building? Skyscrapers? She read the report, as much as Rancais could give. There was no specified amount. Simply whatever was being used for non-essential construction was to be handed over.

The next report was from Arascus. Paida closed her eyes. Opened them again and gazed into the warm orange flames of her fireplace. A request for weather balloons. She took a deep breath. Definitely to scout out Ashen Skies or something of the like. Whatever. It would be done. Paida looked at the picture on her desk, of herself, Aliana, Agrita, Saksma and Olonia, all smiling. Saksma stood tall, holding onto Olonia. There were trees in the picture, it had been a warm day.

She never got to the third report of the night. There was shouting outside her door, shouting from voices she recognised and didn’t particularly want the company of right now. Malam and Helenna. Of Rancais steeled herself, leaned back in her chair, and took a deep breath. They would want assistance with the succubi. That was for certain.

Malam barged through the door. Paida’s guards leaned as Helenna followed her friend through, they made apologetic faces, Paida gave them a nod. Guards could only do so much. Against the Daughter-Goddesses of Arascus, there was not much to say or do. Malam and Helenna stood like two statues, both in black coats, both in their caps, Malam with her pure snow-white hair, Helenna’s with hers dyed black. “Why did you put the city on curfew?” From Malam’s tone, it was obvious Paida was in trouble. Helenna crossed her arms. The fact she had painted that revealing hair a pitch black was almost annoying. Paida had gotten used to how predictable of Love actually was when her emotions were on display.

“What curfew?” Paida asked.

Malam stared down at Paida for a moment, then extended her arm towards the window and the empty city. “What is that?”

“There’s no order or anything, it’s just self-imposed.” Paida said. Why shouldn’t it be after all, not after what had been shown on the news.

Malam made the mistake of speaking. “I did not take your people for being such cowards that they would hide just because there’s a few succubi about.” Paida’s face darkened immediately. Everyone knew of Malam’s reputation after all, there was no reason to get angry, or mad, or anything else of the manner. She was a provocateur, a bitch in other words. Frankly, Paida was sure that the woman got some sort of satisfaction out of being so annoying to the people around her.

But she did get angry, nonetheless. “My people have a crisis on their hands and you’re supposed to be stopping it.” Paida growled. It was only her respect for Arascus and the rest of the sisterhood that stopped her from chewing Malam out on the spot. “What have you done? Let demons into the Aris Catacombs? Because that’s all I can. Twenty-three people are dead and you’ve lost them.”

Whatever she had just said had not been the correct thing. That, she knew immediately, something within Malam flipped, a switch. The rage and anger disappeared immediately, it was replaced by some sort of… Paida felt a crack of freezing lightning go down her spine. “What do you mean demons are in the Aris Catacombs?” The tone was so cold that for a moment, Paida had to sit there and think on whether she was speaking to the correct person or not. This Malam was a thoroughly different creature than the lurid alcoholic Paida had come to expect.

She sat there, struggling to take her eyes off the Goddess of Hatred. Those pitch-black eyes settled upon her. Helenna managed to break the tension. “Why was there a leak in information?”

“I don’t know.” Paida replied immediately, utterly thankful for the save. Helenna suddenly looked like the most beautiful creature on this whole planet for a moment.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Malam growled.

Paida pursed her lips, her eyes strayed through her office to Helenna. The message was simple: Please. Help.

“She doesn’t know.” Helenna said. “How? Someone took a picture. A journalist got a report. Maybe a police officer spoke. Maybe they knew before you even gave the order.”

Malam turned from the Goddess of Rancais to the Goddess of Love. “And whose side are you on, exactly?”

“I’m on the side of the Empire.” Helenna said dryly. “Paida does not know, it is obvious. There is no point torturing her because of it.” Paida didn’t know if the Goddess of Love was talking about the sort of breaking down that Malam could supposedly do with just her words, or the actual torture with knives and pliers. She didn’t want to go through either.

But even though one of them was Arascus’ daughter, she had still seen the modern Empire be built up from nothing. She had been here in Epan separation, it was her country that had bled the most for Arascus’ vision. Through the Anarchia Crisis, and now she had even given Arseille up. If they came in here to just bully, then she would not play along. “Can I ask, what exactly is going on? Why should the population not be aware of the demons in the catacombs?”

Malam’s gaze shifted to Paida once again. “How were you made?”

Paida blinked, thought for a moment, what was even the answer to that question? “People believed in the nation of Rancais.” That had to be the simplest answer. No one would argue with it.

Malam nodded. “People believed in the nation of Rancais. And now they believe in cursed catacombs with demons in them.”

Paida stared at her. A Divine of the Catacombs? Surely one existed already. She had never met it. But surely there was something down there right now? Wasn’t there? There had to be. “What are we talking about?” She asked.

Helenna sighed, her eyes falling down to her feet. Malam just scared at Paida as if she was a child. “Runaway fear.” Malam said. “Not conscious material but the same fear that made up the Divines of the time I and Helenna herald from.”

For a moment, Paida sat there, unmoving, just staring at Malam. She looked down at the stacks of paper and tried to comprehend the meaningless request for resources with what she was hearing. “Apotheosis isn’t possible on that short a time scale.”

“What do you know of apotheosis?” Malam asked, then leaned forwards as Paida flinched back, deeper into her seat. Malam’s hands set on the brown wood of the table. “The question wasn’t rhetorical Paida, what do you know of apotheosis?”

“I-it takes upwards of a century?” Paida asked the answer. She was supposed to be the most of competent of all the Epan Divines. The rest of them came to her for advice on how to deal with diplomacy. And now she felt like a prisoner under Malam’s lightless eyes.

“Explain the Raptors then.” Malam said. Paida opened her mouth, nothing came out. Not even a hushed gasp. The Raptors had not even been around for three years yet. In the books, the birth of a new deity took a minimum of two decades.

Helenna stepped in once again. “You are speaking to two experts on the topic Paida. We, along with Arascus, were the ones who made that time-scale. It was for a different age.”

“Was it?”

“One without modern technology, believe it or not.” Helenna said. “No, it is wrong, we did not know how short the time could be. We don’t delve into the fortress phenomenon either.”

“What?”

“Divines of castles that appear before the building is even finished.” Malam said, finally standing up. Paida blinked, her eyes went wide. She… She knew that. Everyone did. Why had two and two never been put together?

“So…” She stared up at those two Goddesses that towered over her. “How long? We’ll get an Of the Catacombs?”

“We’ll get a living terror.” Malam said. Helenna rolled her eyes.

“We need access to maps.” Helenna said. “Every map of Aris that has ever existed, in myth or not. We assumed you know where they are.” She stared. “Every map. Not the public ones, whether it’s outdated or not doesn’t matter. Whether the tunnels were collapsed or not, every map.”

“Of course.” Paida said. That could be done. That was easier than meetings to assign production quotas. “We have our national library, I can take you there.” That would at least get them off her case.

“We also need command of the Aris Police Force.” Helenna said. Paida blinked, thinking of how to argue back, then decided against it. Not against Malam and Helenna together. Some Divines could come in and demand, Malam could, if Helenna could not.

“Of course.”

Helenna smiled, then bumped Malam’s elbow with her own. “I told you to ask.” She said. Malam just rolled her eyes.

“And…” It was a careful tone. Anything to regain a semblance of control over the situation. “What then?”

“That is to be decided.” Helenna said.

Malam came in. “We’re moving in to map out your tunnels once and for all.” Helenna shook her head.

“Someone will be called in.”

“Faster is better.” Malam said.

“Your SIS doesn’t have the manpower.” Helenna said. “Fer will be brought in.”

“Fer is better used on the front.”

“We have the Arseille crisis to deal with.” Helenna finished, her tone final. “Now stop arguing, it’s bad form. What do you want Paida? Get up, we’re going now.” Paida widened her eyes once again. She had expected the morning. Or maybe the day after. Now? They did move fast.

“What happens if don’t stop it. Can…” She trailed off. “A Divine can’t be made off just fear, can it?” She tried to think back. It had to be some concept. It couldn’t just be a localized entity like this. There had to be a foundation. Of the Catacombs wasn’t any sort of powerful foundation.

“We don’t know.” Helenna said and Malam shook her head.

Malam’s tone was cold. “No Helenna. We know very well what can happen when fear runs unchecked. You should know too.”

“Should I?”

“The last time this happened, a Jungle almost swallowed all Arika.” Paida felt the blood drain from her face. They were operating at different levels. She had been stuck on the sheer mundanities of economics and popular morale, even this, she thought it would just be another rogue spirit, annoying but able to be handled. Malam was talking about another Jungle. “It took my sister starting the Reclamation War and ended in Continent Cracking to finish it off.”

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