Tensions arose in the White Pantheon is regards to the case of Anassa, of Sorcery. Reformation or punishment? In 25 PGW, the debate finally ended. Elassa vouched for her sister Goddess and swore that the Divine in question could change. The sentencing was changed: Execution became imprisonment.
-Excerpt from ‘The Lost Divines’, written in 732 PGW, by scholars in Arcadia.
Fortia limped through Olympiada’s great gardens, her spear serving as a crutch. A team of builders led by some Divine, only a mere invention, trekked off to the garden where she had the fight with Allasaria. She turned towards another garden and came to a stop, her long dress still swishing with the wind. “Are you going anywhere?” She asked. Atis, of the Hunt, stood there in a fashion she had not seen for the past half-millennia.
His soft silks had been replaced with leather-scale armour. A dark green cloak was around his shoulders, a full quiver on his hip. Wooden great-bow slung around him. Boar-spear on his back. The oddest change wasn’t the clothes though, it was his face: the man was smiling. “You were correct.” He carried himself like he did five hundred years past.
“About what?” Fortia didn’t bother to add any warmth to her tone.
“About the Pantheon.” He shook his head. “I gave up on Fer out of laziness, nothing else.” Fortia merely raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.
“And?”
“I’m going to finish the Hunt.” Fortia stood there, stunned. One day! In one day, Atis had done complete turnaround! Incredible on one hand, terrifying on the other.
“The Guguoans will finish her off.” Fortia said coldly. “I’ve checked on this Hunt, they’ve mobilized a third of all the sects to capture her.”
“I know, fifteen are already there, another thirteen are sending reinforcement. Three more are still preparing.” Atis confirmed. Fortia hid her surprise. Honestly, she had merely heard it passing by some lower-ranking Divines. She did her best to avoid any mention of Fer, that woman only served as a reminder for how much all of them had fallen.
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“Then you should get to it before they steal her from you.”
“Aye. My flight is already ready, I just wanted to find you.”
“Me?” Fortia took a step back. Atis bowed.
“Thank you.” Fortia simply stared at the man, becoming aware of the maids who had stopped and were pretending to do anything but look at them.
“Okay.” Fortia eventually broke the silence. “Stop humiliating yourself, we have an audience.”
“It’s not a humiliation to bow to the Goddess of Peace.” Atis pulled himself up. “Like I said, thank you, you’ve reignited a spark within me.”
“Then go and use that spark to hunt Fer down. Come back a fire and not the bum you were.” Fortia finally turned and limped away, she felt Atis’ gaze follow her until she turned a corner.
What was that? Atis going outside? Fortia leaned against the wall as two maids passed her by. She didn’t care how they viewed at this point, those eyes could be pity or scorn for all she cared. She had said similar things to Atis before, maybe less harshly, but certainly her words could not have been that strong. Then what?
Her mind travelled back to the conversation with Maisara. The Pantheon was bound by Leona’s omnipresent luck. If she were to disappear, then they would start fragmenting. If she were to die…
War.
The cogs turned in Fortia’s head: Swords clashed, arrows hit their targets, walls collapsed and castles fell. Atis had just confirmed it: Maisara’s prediction was correct. He was simply the first one to break away. Of course it would be him, his shots were never lucky, they were always skill.
Fading Light. Fortia wished she had never participated in that meeting, but she knew there was no world or reality where out there where she hadn’t. Allasaria was too unpredictable, too prideful, too stubborn. Her light would burn anyone going against her away. The moment Leona’s luck finally burned out, Maisara was the first target.
Mai… then me.
It would not be done. Peace was eternal. Peace was the goal of humanity. An objective forever out of reach, a mountain that only grew taller as you scaled it. Fortia was the pinnacle of that mountain, and Allasaria wanted to fly right over her.
No. Fortia gripped her harder and pushed herself off the wall.
Peace was the ultimate desire. Everyone loved Peace. No man or woman, no human, elf or dwarf would not want their hearts to be at Peace. Peace demanded and Peace took. No price was too high, no taboo could be too great to break.
If Peace called for War, then War it shall have.