After the Great War and the victory at Rhomaion, Arascus’ followers fled. They quickly established a sizable amount of cults across the world. Although the threat of daughter Goddesses was eventually overcome, it is a near impossibility for society to please everyone. With a long history of resistance, these cults are a natural gathering of various dissidents and troublemakers.
Introduction to the ‘Arascus Cults’ section from a pamphlet of the United Ardan Security Agency
Olympiada was the birthplace of the White Pantheon, a mountain claimed for the Gods. Its top was a sprawling temple-complex the size of a small town. The defensive walls around it were long torn down, the white marble refashioned into grand abodes and homes for the immortals living at the peak. Mortals would make a pilgrimage up the steps frequently to beg for assistance so the front always had a large crowd of people. Behind the central temple though were the closed quarters. There only servants were seen, if one was lucky, they could get a peek at the Gods in their day-to-day lives.
Leona sat in her library. It was a small thing, although she never liked the grandiosities of her siblings. She sat reading a book, a simple fairy tale about knights and princesses. Those were her favourite. Her pale hair cascaded messily down her face and she wore a simple blue dress. It was something most Goddesses would frown upon, but no one had the gall to say anything negative about Lady Luck to her face. “I’ve tried that recipe you gave me.” Leona’s personal maid, Alice, said as she came in. The girl was an orphan, simply left at the foot of Olympiada one day. Zerus would have probably thrown her away but it was just Alice’s luck that Leona was the one who found her. Leona sniffed the air as she smelled Alice’s cooking, Allasaria had a legion of maids a thousand strong, but to her, Alice was enough.
“It smells brilliant.” Leona said. “Did you add lemon?”
“Oranges for some tang.” Alice said proudly as she sat down opposite Leona and poured two cups of tea. Another breach of protocol, no servant would so much as dream of sharing tea with their God. “I tested it the first time and I thought it was too sweet.”
“It’s a guilty pleasure.” Leona said as she put the book down and picked up a fork. “Wow.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s brilliant. The oranges really do make it better.”
“Hehe.” Alice’s cheeks went rosy. She was a simple girl, not beautiful by any means, but pretty. With large brown eyes and rosy lips. She cut her own slice. “I have an idea already on how to make it better.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.” Alice said. “Although I’ll give you a hint, it’s mint.”
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“Mint?” Leona took another bite.
“It’s just my own creation so…” Alice’s voice went quiet as she stared at her Goddess. Leona’s golden eyes became unfocused. “Mistress?” The fork slid out of her hand and she started tilting to the side. Alice quickly jumped up and caught Leona before the latter cracked her head on the floor. “Mistress? Mistress? MISTRESS?!!!”
Although six of the eight Goddesses received their conclusions, two were never found. Irinika, of Darkness, and Fer, of Beasthood. It pains me to call Irinika my elder sibling but even I have some regrets about not being able to put an end to her. After her disappearance in the Great War, she was never seen again.
Fer is still alive, sightings occur once a decade throughout the wild Eastern tundra but she does not cause an issue. The herd she escaped with is much the same. We leave her alone, she leaves us alone. The area is still sparsely populated and there is little reason for us to go and deal with her, especially since the might of Beasthood has much decreased since the advent of Ciria. Her existence also provides a good distractions for the various sects of Great Guguo, some humility is good for those men.
I expect her to fade away naturally.
- Excerpt from the secrets texts in the White Pantheon’s closed library. Written by Goddess Allasaria, Of Light: ‘An Inconclusive War’.
“HELP! HELP! HELP!” Whiright, of Planes, refocused his vision at the mad screaming of some woman. It was a girl with brown hair, he was sure he had seen her about here before. She wore a simple dress wholly inadequate to trekking the steps of Olympiada. So a native, or maybe some girl one of his siblings had taken a liking to. He adopted a sour face, she was thoroughly unimpressive. “HELP! HELP!” The girl pushed past the line as Whiright stood up.
“Quiet girl, don’t you see there’s a line?” A line of fools who came asking to fix a hole in the roof or begging for spare change to feed their dogs.
“NO IT’S-“ The girl grew silent as Whiright stared at her. Her voice cut out and she lifted into the air. Who did she think she was to say no to him? He was a God.
“Girl, do not test my patience and return to where you came from if you think your problems are somehow more important than those who climbed up here.” The crowd was much on his side, it took a week for a mortal to reach the heights of Olympiada. The most support she got were a few looks of pity. Whiright waved his finger and the girl slowly moved through the air, past the grand golden doors of the temple. He lifted her another metre into the air and dropped her down. If there wasn’t a crowd here, he would have thrown her off the mountain. “Next.” He said.
“NO!” The girl ran in again. “IT’S LE-“ She lifted into the air. “-O-“ Her voice was weak as Whiright constricted the winds around her neck. “-NA.” Whiright blinked. Leona? Oh no. That was all he could think as he felt two awe-inspiring auras suddenly appear behind him.
“I didn’t-“ He turned to see a white cloak, the corner of his eye caught a chiselled jawline, greyish stubble on it. Then his vision went dark as lightning struck him from the side. He was launched against the marble wall, blood spilling out of his mouth.
“Remember your place, invention.” Zerus said without even giving him a second look. The Lightning God walked past him, each time his sandal touched the floor, lightning cracked for an instant. The crowd knelt in awed silence. Besides him walked Allasaria, Goddess of Light.
Zerus was only known as the leader of the White Pantheon because it was a position too low-brow for Allasaria. She was blinding, with cascading golden hair and dressed in the golden armour she wore in the Great War. Whiright looked away in an attempt to hide his glare. “Alice.” Her voice was like a caress in itself. It was quiet and yet everyone in the room heard it. “What is wrong?” She tried to pull the girl up but Alice had burst out into tears.
“It’s Le-Leona!” She cried. “She… She… She’s collapsed!”