Anassa worked at Baalka’s curse. Another strand of sorcery plucked at Baalka’s soul, tried to get it moving, and was rejected once again. Why did the woman not respond to anything? No matter what Anassa did, it all seemed ineffective.
Did Baalka not want to leave that little prison of hers?
Three months had passed since Elassa had instituted her ancient Great War regimen into Arcadia. Fortia looked at the results of it before her. “Nineteen hundred and fifty report Goddess Fortia!” A pyromancer in a red cloak shouted, he threw up Elassa’s classic salute. An open palm raised next to the face. Fortia did the maths in her head, a hundred and fifty teams have arrived. Elassa had not been slacking off whatsoever. When the letter came through that Arcadia was sending troops, Fortia had expected a hundred, maybe two hundred. A thousand had been out of the question. Almost two thousand Fortia didn’t even dream of.
“And Elassa herself?” Fortia asked. She stared down at the magician, he fiercely met her gaze. Three months could change a lot apparently. This man had the same violent shine in his eyes as the mages of old did.
“In three months she will arrive.” The pyromancer said. Fortia merely nodded down. Frankly, she wanted to go sooner than that. There was a saying to always do the unexpected, that was true to an extent. But when you had someone at knifepoint, it was expected to stab them. The longer Kassandora had to prepare, the more devious trickery she would concoct up that in that mind of hers and the longer this war would drag on. Frankly, they should have entered three months ago. The only thing that had stopped them was Neneria. Armies entering without magical support would simply result in Fortia sowing the fields and the Goddess of Death reaping them.
Zerus, Alkom and Sceo would be called. As would Theosius. The mages were the much needed green light.
“Goddess Kassandora, I request an audience.” Kassandora stared down at the man in borderline confusion. Excuse me? She knew her men weren’t exceptionally… what was the word? Formal? But this? Honestly, she was impressed. People who stood up for themselves were always likable.
“Your audience is here and now.” Kassandora replied curtly. “What is it?”
“It’s in regards to the excess Binturong ammunition. The HE-shells.” Kassandora raised an eyebrow. She had merely accepted that they had too many to ever be used. Production of Binturongs was slowing down to make way for the new Lemur artillery. These shells would eventually get a new vehicle to be shot by when a replacement for the Binturong appeared.
“Talk, I’m not going to give you permission to speak every other sentence.” Kassandora replied. The man took a deep breath as he relaxed and his posture dropped. He hurriedly pulled out a small notebook from his jacket and passed it to Kassandora with a bow.
“My name is David Nell.” Kassandora barely registered the name as she took the notebook from his hands. She flipped over to the first page. It was merely a foreword written by this fellow, that didn’t matter. Then to the second page. Her crimson eyes grew large when they landed on the diagram. This is why she let her troops talk to her. She had strategies, tactics and plans, but they had inventions.
“David Nell?”
“Yes Goddess.”
“Good, I’ll remember you.” She put the notebook into her pocket. “Start making them immediately. As many as you can do. What rank and army?”
“Private Goddess! Northern-Central, under General Sokolowski!”
Kassandora turned around, her eyes landed on Sokolowski, he was issuing orders to a rank of a hundred men split into three platoons. “Sokolowski! Come here!” Damian Sokolowski turned immediately from issuing orders and trotted a fast march to her.
“Yes Goddess-General! Sokolowski Reporting!” He made a perfect salute to Kassandora.
“Make sure Captain Nell here has a uniform to match his rank. He’s assigned to engineering at headquarters from now on.” Kassandora passed the notebook back to him. “Have a copy of this is ready at my tent by tonight.” She was so happy with that little invention she didn’t even care about the stupid name: The Hedgehog.
Fortia walked with Maisara. A week had passed since the first set arrived, Elassa had reported that the second set would have the same amount, and it would be ready next week. There was something in Fortia that wanted to wait, something that absolutely refused to cross that Kirinyaan border. It was an insidious part of her. “We march tomorrow.” Fortia said the words out loud before her mind managed to finally convince her not to.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
And with those words, something within her started to move. Gears started to shift, ancient dams broke away, rivers started to flow. The words were said now, there was no going back now. Peace would be upheld, Arascus would not, could not, be allowed to drag Arda into global war again. If Fortia needed to cleanse an entire nation of his filth, she would. And she would do it happily.
“I agree.” Maisara said from her side. Both of the Goddesses walked in their armour. Plain and undecorated, simple silver on Maisara, simple gold on Fortia. Zerus, Alkom and Sceo were in the air, the rhythmic beat of Theosius’ hammers was drumming in the distance. The automaton foundries had gone up, as had the smithies for fixing cracks in armour and reforging blades.
Kassandora threw a piece of paper onto Arascus’ table. She wouldn’t have come to him if it wasn’t… monumental. The God of Pride read it in silence. “Why do you think she’ll attack?”
“That’s what I would do.” Kassandora replied promptly. “But whether it’s sooner or later, this…” She tapped the piece of paper. What a masterful play. She was downright proud of herself.
Arascus tapped the piece of paper. Warplan Sandfire. “Can we spin this?” Kassandora smiled that smile she always did when things worked out perfectly. Of course they could spin it.
“Maisara, you lead the eastern front.” Fortia assigned roles to the Gods. They themselves would assign generals however they wanted. There was no reason to change systems that weren’t broken, they had won the Great War this way, they would win this small skirmish too. Maisara had not taken her armour for a week now, Zerus was in his shawls emblazoned with gold. Sceo in a dark blue, her eyes held all the calm of a storm. They dashed around at every detail, she had inspected the men several dozen times at this point. Alkom stood in silken clothes, light and almost opaque. No one but the God of the Sun would call that armour, but then when you burned with all the heat of the stars, you didn’t want steel to cook yourself in. “Alkom will support you.” The eastern front would circle around the central mountains, get close to the Aittyopios border, and then need to push through jungle. A God who could burn it away would do well there. And Maisara was a mighty general in her own right, not as good as Fortia, nor Kassandora, but then no one was.
“Zerus and Sceo, western front. Push as fast and as far as you can until you meet resistance, then take it at your own pace.” Zerus’ lightning and Sceo’s wind were perfectly suited for battle in the open prairies, deserts and dunes of western Kirinyaa. There wouldn’t be any trouble unless they ran into a Divine, and even then, there was only one who would match them.
“I will take the central army and push south to the mountains.” It was the worst job, with no clear end. Depending on the situation, the mountains could be seized, or they would simply be sieged. They’d have to wait until Elassa arrived anyway to do any larger movements into them but three months? Fortia thought about the distance in her head, there were cities in the way, and small towns. Some hills and open desert. Realistically, it would be a six-month slog.
That is, as long as Kassandora was prepared. Fortia thought about what she would in Kass’ position. She wouldn’t try holding the north of the mountain range, that was for certain. Supplies would be stretched and vulnerable to hunting packs of mages. It would be terrible to push through, but it would be terrible to hold as well. Realistically, Kass would conserve her troops, amass on the east and west and try to push from both sides along with Fer’s forces from the centre. Beastmen cared little for harsh terrain.
So three months seemed suitable, Elassa would arrive then, and the push would continue. Zerus spoke up, he always did, that man had to be sure and certain of everything. “And Olephia?”
“We follow Great War directive, disengage and avoid. Perfect would be if you can lead her on a wild goose chase. Whichever front she will be on will stall, the other two will push.” Perfect would be if Kassandora had assigned to defend the mountains, but Fortia was certain that the woman knew of Olephia’s strength far too well to waste the Goddess of Chaos like that. “Fer and Kassandora, we engage.” Fortia said. Those two were powerful, but amongst armies? There was only so much a melee fighter could do after the bodies reached critical mass. “Anassa…” Fortia sighed. That was a big one. Not like Olephia, who was simply unassailable. Anassa could be killed, she had almost been killed on several occasions. But she was still the Goddess of Sorcery.
“Lance communions.” Maisara said. “If we split the mages thirty-forty-thirty, we have enough for each front to have several.” Fortia nodded. Lance communions it was, as was done in the past, so will be done now. They were a simple spell, easy to teach but hard to use. But then if Elassa herself was training the magicians, it was certain they’d be able to field such magic.
“Arascus?” Zerus asked.
“Same as always, call for help and overwhelm, he can be killed. He’s weaker than in the past.” Fortia said.
“How do you know?” Maisara begged the question from the other side.
“Igos footage. He struggled pulling the Blue Grace out of the water.” Fortia said then realised only she and Maisara watched the news. “It was a container ship, it took him a good few minutes to do it.” Zerus, Sceo and Alkom all voiced their agreement, that didn’t sound like the Arascus of the past.
“And Neneria?”
“Standard anti-magic protocol. Don’t change anything, keep the armies tight and protected by mages. The split will be five hundred each.” Armies in the Great War only had a hundred, maybe two. But then in the past, they didn’t conglomerate into three mere frontlines. The past had been chaos, with conflict seeming springing up from all sides. “If you can kill her, then do, but she’s not a priority for now. None of them are, simply seize land. If you feel you can’t push then ask-“ Fortia managed to stop herself.
She was about to say ‘ask Leona’. But there was no Leona. The great seeress was dead. They didn’t have that advantage anymore. Battles didn’t have their conflicts foreseen, there would be no helping hand to say whether something was a bad idea or an excellent one. “Ask me.” Fortia said. Leona was not omnipotent though, sometimes she could not deliver information, sometimes she was too far away, sometimes she simply didn’t get a feeling about a topic.
Leona helped, but that was all she did.
Fortia finished as she recalled the map of Kirinyaa she had looked at before. Melukal was the first city that would be seized. It was a mere fifty kilometres from the border, barely thirty miles. Her army could reach it in the span of a day’s march.
Melukal.
Was that a good idea?
Fortia wished Leona was here so that she could ask.