Chapter 816 – The Unsigned Pact

Fundamentally, there is no issue with a blade. A blade in a hand is inherently dangerous. An ego is not some terrible thing that must be avoided at all costs. And power? That is far more depending on the context than on power as an individual characteristic. Greed and envy are emotions that only saints do not feel. Hunger is much the same. Individually, each of these characteristics or facts of life can be dealt with.

Yet stick a sword in a madman’s hand and suddenly, the situation changes. Give that madman power, and there is a crisis at hand.

Arda, as a planet, is a single variable. The world bears some inherent cruelty within it, it does nothing to protect its inhabitants of its own natural disasters. It seemingly takes a joy in destroying itself, several times now, when its children were pushed to extinction, we can firmly believe that Arda would have stood by and allowed it. Although that is only the old planet’s soul, and not the problem we currently face. For Arda is but one ingredient in this concoction brewing disaster.

Humanity, the second. A sentient race, although that means little, for the universe has many such creatures. Yet then, they are capable of immaterial control. And once again, the issue is rare, but it is not legendary. The Angels and the Demons possess the same. And whereas Tartarus also has be to watched over, Tartarus is more than aware of its own issues.

Yet with humanity, this is not the first time they have proven to be troublesome, and their own development relies entirely on merely sidestepping the issues that truly plague them. Where they go, conflict that will inevitably descend into violence follows. There are stories, epics hidden amongst the stars, of races that bore this hunger unending, and it took entire coalitions to render judgement upon them.

Now, we gaze upon Arda, and we wish to be wrong, and every instinct says to give them a chance. And yet, I write this, and I cannot shake off this dread when I look upon them. We do not gaze upon some mythical race here, that will grow part to be enlightened custodians of the stars.

I gaze upon Arda and I see the seeds of the next great universal threat.

- Private writing, written by Mary. Not currently on Arda.

Arascus thrust his blade into Noah’s body once again, in the lower abdomen again, to cause another wound that would have spectacular bleeding and this time, he did not feeling his chest open up. Noah’s body gave no reaction either, even though the man was still shifting shapes. He twisted his foot into Noah’s thigh. He had no clue how the teleportation worked here, but Noah had touched him to bring him here, and he extended his hand, so obviously contact was necessary. It was only to stop this creature from escaping.

Arascus stared at the body as his mind worked through everything that was happening here. He drew the blade over to Noah’s neck and made a small cut, not anything life threatening. And then he checked, with the same hand, to where the damage should be being reflected. Not on the left, not on the right. And then again, just to make sure. The damage wasn’t being reflected now. That made everything certain. Either the reflection had stopped on its own, or Noah was dead.

In one smooth movement, Arascus struck Noah’s head from his body.

That confirmed the man was dead. His blood had stopped flowing. And then he turned around, walked to the corner of the room, and began to think on what to do. The Empire would be fine, he refused to accept the fact that it would not. The system was built to run on itself. Someone would take control, undoubtedly, but that didn’t matter. Arascus was still the Emperor.

His fingers ran over the wood and he found a small gap between the beams. A nail caught on it at first. He turned his fingers and tried to pull. The press against his nails was obvious from the start, his body would break before the wood did. But that was no reason to not to anything. Ultimately, he still had an Empire to rule and a world to save. And, if any of the other watchers decided to venture into this room, then he should not be sitting down.

Anassa closed her eyes and called upon her father. It was much when she moved in the past, when she would simply conceive of herself next to a spot of reality that currently did not hold her. Save that for now, the only difference was that instead of thinking of distance, or an environment, or anything related to her. She thought of her father.

Of the times they shared together. Of him pouring wine into her cup. Of the warmth when she rested her head on his shoulder. Of the certainty he spoke with when a decision was called. Of the way that truth seemed to bend around him, and align what with he said. Of the comfort that she would get from sitting close by, and listening to him talk. The way that he would tell stories to make them interesting in a way she never could. The obvious knowledge that no one taught, but he seemed to inhabit. The way his back looked when he focused on something ahead of him. The safety that would come from standing by his side.

Anassa had no clue where she was. But she knew she was next to Arascus.

Fortia watched Maisara squat down next to Fer, who herself had largely recovered from the effects of drinking the monster’s blood. Irinika was still stood there, tapping her foot, arms crossed, as the barrier behind her moved and shifted in a way it never did. Fortia saw Irinika’s black eyes looking at her, and then pointed to the barrier. “Is it supposed to be that unsteady?”

“I can’t focus.” Irinika snapped back. The tone was annoying, and jarring, and it was the sort of thing that would have started an argument back on Olympiada, but here…

“Can’t blame you.” Fortia replied, Irinika didn’t say anything. Her glare passed over the other members. Maisara and Fer, the former squatting, the latter sitting on the ground. Neneria, waiting patiently, her thumbs tapping against the tips of her fingers as she tried to calm herself down. Iniri, who looked shellshocked. Elassa, who was probably more worried for Anassa than for Arascus himself. And then Allasaria, who tried to have the same glare that Irinika had.

That glare settled on Fortia. “He won’t die.” Allasaria said.

“Of course he won’t.” Irinika snapped back. “Do you think some shapeshifter like that will kill him?” Allasaria didn’t respond to Irinika, Of Darkness bought them a few moments of silence from Of Light’s annoying pestering. But again, she looked around the room and found a target to annoy. Fortia narrowed her eyes as she watched Allasaria settle on Maisara and Fer. That was not Allasaria’s territory.

“Are you two not nervous?”

Fer’s ears stood up straight, her fangs revealed themselves. Her tail went straight into the air, and the Goddess of Beasthood stared straight at Allasaria. “Know your place.” The words were a threatening growl, no amount of biting joy in them. It was a completely different Fer compared to the one who talked to Fortia and Maisara in private.

Allasaria scowled then shook her head, although at the very least she said nothing. Fortia just sat there stood there and waited for Anassa and Arascus. If there were two Divines she considered trustworthy… well, Arascus would be there. The man stayed true to his word, although the issue with him was getting a word out of him. Anassa herself only was largely trustworthy because telling the truth in this field was more important for long-term survival than lying.

But nevertheless, if there were two Divines she did not have to doubt the power of, it would be Anassa and Arascus. In the Great War, both had been dangerous enough to warrant the deployment of Allasaria, and that had been its own match. “Why are we waiting here?” Allasaria asked. “Fortia, can’t you think of something?”

Fortia met Allasaria’s gaze, her eyes passed over to Irinika, then Maisara. This was getting infuriating beyond any belief. Just because Allasaria was stressed did not mean she had to take it out on them. “Allasaria.” Neneria stepped in. “For today, you’re going to have to remain quiet. No one here cares that you are nervous. We all are.”

The admonishment from the Goddess of Death bought exactly five seconds of silence. “And if he doesn’t return?”

The entire room glared at Allasaria. Irinika finally snapped. “Are you stupid?” Of Darkness barked the question. “But actually? Are you stupid Allasaria? Are you a child? You’re stood for minutes and you’re what? Complaining now?”

“I’m just saying.” Allasaria replied timidly. Maybe she realised the situation she was in when even Iniri was glaring at her. “What if he doesn’t return?”

“Talk to me in a week.” Irinika said. “Then, we discuss this. My father is not dead.”

“Is that not…” Allasaria asked. “We should be considering everything, shouldn’t we?”

“Allasaria.” Neneria came in this time. Her tone was colder, not so caring and patient anymore. “Shut up and wait.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

Neneria replied immediately. “Then we as the daughters take charge of the Empire. And like Maisara said, it is Arascus who maintains the protection order on you.” Allasaria worked her mouth, but finally truly shut up and said nothing. As so, they stood and waited. A second felt like eternity. Ten felt like forever. A minute was long enough for years to pass and the sun to burn out.

Anassa suddenly popped into existence, Arascus holding her hand. Of Sorcery was as pristine as when she had left. She had obviously been crying, although no pestered her on the red rings around her eyes. The cause was obvious enough, even if it didn’t have to be stated.

And Arascus. Stood in his suit that had gone a shade darker than black, without an arm. With his leg obviously injured, because of the lopsided stand. With dried blood on his chin. “You’re hurt!” Irinika screamed and Allasaria narrowed her arms. Fortia could already tell the wound wasn’t dangerous, she had literally watched the God of Pride regenerate his body from nothing but his own soul. And now, it wasn’t the wound, as much as it was the damage. Fer’s ears bounced upwards, then towards her father, then she immediately herself towards him.

Arascus caught her in a hug as Maisara let out a deep sigh of relief and fell backwards onto her rear. Fer nuzzled into his shoulder. “Dad.” Fer whispered to him. Fortia just stared at the performance, although that was the wrong word and she knew it. This was the sort of love that even when her and Arascus ruled Uru-Silim in the past, they did not exhibit to each other. Well… not her to him at least. “You’re back.”

Neneria walked closer as Anassa smiled, burst out in laughter and began to cry again. Elassa came closer to the Goddess of Sorcery, to hold her hand. “Noah was dead before I even arrived.” And then, Anassa opened up, collapsed into Elassa, and began to cry herself.

“It’s not…” Irinika came closer. “You can regenerate this? Right? It’s not permanent?”

“It’s not.” Arascus answered and that was all the explanation everyone needed. Fortia finally let herself relax.

“You’re injured.” She absolutely hated the words that came out of her mouth and, even more so, she hated the look Allasaria shot at her. Arascus caught it, or maybe he did not, but at the very least, he didn’t make a comment on her.

“I’m fine.” Arascus said. Fortia raised an eyebrow at that, the man lacked half an arm and his clothes were covered in blood. “This is nothing.” He turned around to deeper in the cavern, where Irinika was still holding up her barrier. “Where is the eagle?”

“Malam has it.” Anassa said. “I saw it when I rescued her…” She opened her mouth in shock. “How long was I away?”

“A few minutes.” Fortia said.

“Go.” Arascus said. “Protect her, take it to up to the surface.” He held up his hand. “But there is something I will tell all of you before you do.” He paused, as if thinking of what to say. His gaze passed over to Neneria and Iniri, then to Irinika. “Are the memories you cannot speak about ones with Arda? Of seeing men crawl from caves, and the history of the world, and your own incarnations? A tower on which sat God, titleless, that humanity used to build a tower for an eagle?” He continued, and talked of nothing that Fortia understood. Arda slaying universality, and of the sun coming down to purge the Ardan surface. And how humanity hid in caves, and then crawled back again. And then, he must have got to the end, although it didn’t feel like there was any ending to the tale. “Any of what I just said, is that recognisable to you?”

Neneria paused, her fingers had frozen, and she was deathly still. Iniri worked her mouth, as if trying to find a way to answer. But Irinika stepped forward. The tunnel closed tunnel behind her finally disappeared. Fortia had seen the carnage left behind by of Darkness, but here, she had mashed the monsters to a faint paste and nothing else. “Father.” She began. “I cannot confirm what you just said because I am banned from saying it.” She looked up and shivered. “But I will not deny a word you said.”

All of them understood, what Arascus had seen were the memories that those three were not allowed to talk about. The God of Pride took a deep breath and nodded. “I killed Noah before he made me sign the pact.” Arascus turned up to look at the ceiling. “We have work to do.”

- - - End of Arc 21: Ancient Shadows in Young Tombs - - -