“Cancel the Arcadian transports to north Arika. Let Arascus have his victory.”

“Are you sure we don’t want to move in on Igos?”

“A united Pantheon could not defeat Olephia, can a fractured one?”

- The White Pantheon’s Meeting Room.

Arascus walked onto Igos’ sandy beach with Olephia in his arms. She curled into the red cape to cover herself, and stared up at him with her violet eyes. A smile on her face. “I have you Olephia, don’t be scared now.” He said as he maintained his posture. The floodwall reached high behind the beach, flashes of light were coming from it as the onlookers took photos. The great gates, massive panels of sliding steel turned and twisted to flood the sand with people who ran out as Arascus kept walking on. Olephia wrapped tighter around his chest.

People cheered in the dawn. People threw up hats into the air. They burst into laughter and song, they swore adoration for the storm settling and blessed Arascus with their thanks. They didn’t care for their wet clothes from the rain, nor the water streaming past them as the floodgates released the excess water that had flooded the street. Someone even shot of fireworks. Olephia watched that with an awe in her eyes. A torrent of awe and adoration, a torrent of power seeped into him.

A group of men in modern armour eventually pushed through the crowd. Thick black vests over dark shirts, a marking on their shirt, a dot surrounded by a circle. They had batons on their vest although none of them used them. Guards Arascus realised, so they must be guarding the person in the centre of their circle. A tall dark man, who walked with all prideful stride that Kassandora’s generals had once carried. Obviously the ruler here, or the herald of one. The man strode onto the sand as his guards made space for Arascus. More flashes came from the skyscrapers, as people on roofs and in windows started taking their own photos. “We’re on film Olephia. Don’t speak now.”

Olephia answered with a tap on his shirt. One tap meant confirmation. Two would have been a rejection.

Arascus came to a stop as those guards encircled him, and then turned around to stop the crowd from closing in. The man in the centre stopped several steps away and looked up at Arascus. He was tall, but Arascus was a Divine, and he tall even for Divines. The man’s head barely reached up to his stomach, even with the long rain coat that reached to his shins, the mark of office over his breast, even with Arascus dripping from salt water and with Olephia wrapped in that cape, the authority lay with Arascus, it was as clear as the Sun coming up. The man came to him. Finally the man saluted. More flashes from the sidelines, more photos taken. “I am Premier-General Abakwa. I thank you for saving Igos.” He said in a booming voice. That loud meant the man wanted to be caught on video saying that.

“The fault was ours.” Arascus said. People liked modesty, and especially when you did not make them feel indebted. This Abakwa certainly did have a debt to pay, but there was no reason to hold it over his head. “I would have come sooner had I been informed of what was happening.” And that was to tell the rest of the world that he did not have secret channels or anything like that. That Arascus, God of Pride, operated with the same knowledge that the common man did. Abakwa looked at them and turned to scan the crowd. The cheers had died off as the crowd waited for what their leader would say. Arascus wondered if it was Olephia in his arms, or the anticipation of the crowd that made the decision, most likely a bit of both.

“Igos and all Ausa welcomes the Divines Arascus and Olephia into its borders.” The crowd exploded into a mad flurry of cheer. “Come.” He turned, the police cordon around them closed the circle as they pulled away from the water and they slowly made their way through the floodgates and into the city.

If Arascus was in Abakwa’s position, he would have hated it. The man was escorting a foreign God through cheering crowds, who cheered not for Abakwa but for Arascus. They took images and they took videos, they sang songs, they had to be pushed out of the way. Abakwa gave one look at the cars and heavy vehicles of the police, and realised Arascus would not fit in them. That would have forced Arascus to simply pull a smile and parade a saviour through the city.

But Arascus was not Abakwa. The positions were reversed. He basked in the glory. Olephia nuzzled into his chest as she closed her eyes to the flashing lights. Arascus felt her heartbeat close to his as he walked through Igos. Eventually, they made their way past a statue of brick and concrete and steel of men and women holding up stones. The foundations of a wall, around them. Abakwa saluted the statue as Arascus read the plaque. Nameless but not forgotten: Builders of the Firewall. Arascus saluted it too, as he held Olephia in one arm. That made the crowd silent as they all paid their respects.

Who to, Arascus did not know, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Abakwa then guided him to a massive concrete building, painted in a dull-yellow, a modern-day fortress. With tall walls and watchtowers, an empty moat dug out around it. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people were streaming out of multiple heavy doors that smattered the building, over bridges leading to the street level, or others leading to the upper levels of skyscrapers. “This is Igos’ Central Crisis Centre.” Abakwa finally spoke as the police made a line behind them and blocked the crowd from following. He came to a stop at the door. It was wide, but not tall. Far too short for Arascus. “I apologize but it’s not made for Divines.”

“We can meet on the roof.” Arascus said. With the influx of power, he eagerly wanted to test it out. Flight, he had not done in a thousand years.

“The rest of the Igos government will want to talk with you.”

“I have no plan to meddle in your politics.”

“Save it for your later.” Abakwa said. “Thank you for saving the city, as I said…” He sighed. “We’ll meet on the roof.” Arascus had imagined it would be like this. The people would cheer for a saviour, the figures in charge would now deal with another crisis.

Abakwa entered the building as Arascus tested his magic. It was unsteady for an instant, but then the instinct came back. His feet slowly let go of the ground. His divine magic wasn’t fast as fast as Anassa’s, not as strong as Olephia’s, not as versatile as Fer’s. It was simply an extent of himself, a creeping doom, ever assured of its own success, almost lazy in its movements, but never slowing down, nor speeding up. A boulder that tumbled down a hill, a slow march of an army. A surety, but not a quick one.

Arascus listened to the cheers of the crowd as he floated up the wall. Olephia squeezed into him and kicked her legs as her dark hair blew in the wind. She had always enjoyed flying with someone else, but she remained silent all throughout it. “I’m going to tell them about your powers Olephia.” Arascus said. “Don’t panic. We want to work with these people.”

Olephia nodded to him.

“It’s going to be a boring month from now on, but I’ll stay with you, alright? We can do what we want as soon as this is finished.” Olephia poked him once and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. They headed up that building until they finally reached a roof.

It was empty, with tables and chairs laid out as if the place was an outdoor restaurant. There were several pads for landing helicopters, and even one very short runway that cut into the small outcrop of concrete, and extended with a small bridge off the building. On one hand, it was rather modest, with parasols and flagpoles interspersed not taking up a lot of space. On the other, that modesty hid another function. The windows here were mere slits, the doors were heavily reinforced with beams and twisting locks. There were no railings around the edge, instead it was a small concrete crenelations.

Arascus let Olephia down as the girl wrapped herself in that thick red cape. He turned to look at the rest of Igos. It was a huge city, with massive skyscrapers interjoined by bridges as if a giant spider had spun a steel web over the city, and around it was a massive wall. It started in the ocean, the beginning marked with a massive lighthouse, went straight onto land, made a curve, and then ended in the ocean again, another massive lighthouse signalling its end. Beyond it lay the Great Central Arikan Jungle. It stretched over the hills and mountains in the distance, an endless carpet of green.

Eventually, Abakwa came with his men. Arascus had thought it would be a lot of people, but it really wasn’t. They were dark-skinned and tall, in clothes that looked as if they had not been changed in the past few days. Unbuttoned shirts, shorts and trousers, the only constant was the dark shirts. “Apologies for the wait.” Abakwa said as Arascus watched the Sun rise in the horizon, Olephia had come to hold his hand and watch with him, her fingers had gingerly interlocked with his and her head rested on his arm.

“Nothing to apologize for, we were admiring the view.” Arascus said as he turned. “Are we sitting?” Arascus had thought bureaucrats would consider it beneath them to arrange tables, but these men did. They pushed a few tables together and brought a bench.

“We don’t have chairs for your size.” Abakwa said. “So the bench…”

“It will suffice.” The bench creaked as Arascus sat on it, even now, his eyes were above theirs. When the men sat down, they still only reached his chest. Olephia wrapped the cloak tighter around herself. She broke the silence before Abakwa could even introduce anyone with her fingers madly tapping on the wooden tables. “Do you have a pen and paper?” Arascus asked, Olephia would need it. “A notepad would be best.” Abakwa looked to his men. One that was balding and with glasses over his brown eyes quickly pulled one out and slid it across the table to Olephia. She quickly wrote down a reply and showed it to the rest of the table.

Thank you.

The men looked at each other in confusion before Abakwa took charge with a cough. “I am Premier-General Abakwa, in command of the United Cities of Ausa.” He extend an arm to the balding man who had passed Olephia the paper. “That is Professor Chinua, head of the Igos University of Sciences.”

“My pleasure.” The man said in a deep voice and soothing voice. Abakwa continued to the next man.

“Abubakar, director of Igos.” A tall man, his shirt drenched in sweat and looking as if he had not slept in a few days.

“It is my blessing to host two Divines.” The man said in a tone that said it was obviously his misfortune. Abakwa introduced the last man.

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“And General Domkat. In charge of the Igos Crisis Unit.” The man merely nodded to confirm. Arascus gave his own introduction, as short as there’s were.

“I am Arascus, God of Pride.” He extend to Olephia, who had already finished writing. She ripped a piece off the notepad and slid it across the table.

Olephia, Goddess of Chaos. Arascus sat there in silence as the four men looked at it and at themselves, and then at Arascus and Olephia. They didn’t know what to do. He supposed they wouldn’t. What would he do in their positions? They were most likely worried. He supposed he should calm those worries. “Olephia’s power works through her voice. She cannot speak.” Olephia nodded along and pointed at her throat. That didn’t seem to calm the men whatsoever. “I promise she will stay silent while she stays in Igos.” Abakwa finally broke the tension among the men.

“I’m not…” He stopped carefully and picked out words. “We… I’m sure you understand that Ausa is in a difficult situation.” Arascus knew exactly what the man was getting at, his presence here would put Ausa in the White Pantheon’s spotlight. That was the sort of eye no one wanted to be watched by.

Ultimately though, he was here to recruit these people as much as he was here to stop Olephia from an accidental massacre. If there wasn’t a city in the way, he would have let her smash through the mages gathering in Arcadia first and then come to assist her later. But there had been a city, and that had changed plans. He leaned back, Olephia watched him from the corner of her eye and leaned back with him, and then Arascus sighed. Olephia repeated the movement but simply made no sound. The men flinched when she opened her mouth.

“Premier-General, you are a military man, yes?” Arascus said.

“Officially Ausa has no military.” Abakwa answered carefully.

“I’m not here to enforce Pantheon Peace, General.” Arascus missed out the redundant part of the title on purpose. “I myself am a military man.” Olephia started to scrawl something down. “So I’d prefer if we talked straight about this situation. I understand that my presence here is an issue for you internationally, but I know you can’t simply kick us out because you cannot defeat us.” Olephia slammed a piece of paper onto the table.

I’m not going to get mad. Do not worry about offending me. Abakwa read it, looked at Olephia again and leaned back into his chair. “You do have it about right.” Abakwa began. “Ausa is reliant on international aid, we don’t farms or a countryside. An embargo would cripple what is left of this nation so I would...” He stalled again. “I’m not asking you to leave. But I’m asking you to leave.” He said eventually.

“This is our issue, because we can’t leave as we have nowhere to go.” Arascus said. “Unless you know of a nation that will willingly house Olephia?” Abakwa shook his head. Abubakar, Igos’ director, Arascus assumed it was something to the position of mayor, spoke up.

“If you excuse Abakwa, he is thinking about the long-term. You may stay here for a week.” Arascus watched Abakwa’s reaction, it was feigned, but feigned well. A mortal would have been tricked. That was very good, one wanted them gone immediately, the other wanted them gone in a week and had a tone as if he was actually apologetic for it.

“How long of a term are we talking about here?” Arascus asked.

“Years.” Abakwa answered immediately. Arascus already had an answer prepared. He had assumed he was going to deal with civilians first. Civilians were always tougher to convince, they needed speeches about grandiosities. Military types had a blander way of looking at the world, as just a series of cost-benefit ratios.

“Did you see what happened in Olympiada a month ago?” Arascus asked. Of course they did, the entire world must have seen that.

“We did see a fight broke out on it.” Abubakar answered. Arascus gauged the reaction. The fact he called it a fight meant they didn’t know who it was, or what had happened exactly. It was impossible for people not to identify Kassandora from that picture. Then… did they simply not care? Arika was far from Epa, and what Iliyal had said that Kassandora told him, Arika had no love for the White Pantheon.

“That was my daughter, Kassandora, escaping from it.” Olephia’s hands slammed the table as she looked at him in disbelief. It took her a few moments to dispel her shock, then she quickly wrote something down again. Kass is free? “Yes. Kassandora is free.” Arascus slid the paper to show to the men. Olephia was rarely taken on diplomatic visits because notes like this left a sour taste in people’s mouths. It was always bad when the girl started passing out notes in secret. “She has gone to Kirinyaa, along with Kavaa, Helenna and Iniri.” Arascus let the moment have a second to process the news. Abakwa spoke as he rubbed his stubbled chin.

“That explains the Cleric’s movements then.”

“Currently, Kassandora is in the Kirinyaan Badlands working on a way to push the Jungle back.” Arascus said with full certainty. The fact she had ventured into the Jungle proper was irrelevant, she would figure out a way, and if not then he would. “By the end of the year, we aim to start proper reclamation efforts. Kavaa, Helenna and Iniri have been excommunicated from the Pantheon, Leona and Atis are dead. The White Pantheon is broken already, it will not exist in five years’ time.”

The four men leaned forwards as Arascus continued. He could tell already, they had been caught hook line and sinker. There wasn’t any shock about the news of dead Divines, nor anything else like that, it was merely hungry intrigue. So they really did not have any love for the White Pantheon. That was good, now they only needed a tiny little push to start moving, and they would come to him themselves. “When the White Pantheon breaks officially, Epa will fall into Chaos. Pantheon Peace has stunted them to such a degree that they can not deal with the Anarchia situation. Where will you get your supplies from then?”

Abakwa and Abubakar shared a look. Domkat and Chinua merely looked crushed. “I understand you most likely know more than we do about this, but we will have to confirm this information.” Domkat eventually spoke up, the rest were simply stunned. “For surety.”

“I said this before to the General, but I will repeat it for all of you. I do not wish to meddle in your internal politics. How you rule yourselves is your prerogative.” The men looked around. “I would also like to confirm that my planes have been given permission to land.”

“They’ve landed already.”

“The pilots will need accommodation. I would also ask that they be given passports of Ausa. We have two more with us, but they will find their way back home alone, I’d rather they not be harassed or questioned by journalists. It would be best if they are not even to be seen. The pilots can take centre-stage for any interviews.”

“It will be done.” Domkat pulled out his phone and started typing something. Abakwa finally seemed to realise that Arascus had just given an order to his man, and the man had followed along with even asking a question.

“In regards to accommodation for you two.” He thought. “You can fly, so it will be easiest if you take one of the hotel penthouses. Abubakar will organise it.”

“Of course.” The man said. Arascus contained his smile. Kassandora won battles, Olephia slew dragons, Neneria would raise the dead, but out of them all, only he had the power to win nations.

“If you wish for assistance, then you will know where to find us. Otherwise, we won’t appear. I’m not taking interviews.” Arascus said. A God who became common lost his enigmatic charm, if he only appeared where was needed, his image would be far more powerful.

“Naturally.” Abubakar said. “You cannot stay at the White Pantheon embassy, can you?”

“No.”

“Igos rarely has Divines visit. I pre-emptively apologize, but it will be tight.”

“As long as its out of sight, do not worry.” Arascus quickly thought of another minor way these men could be called on to cooperate with him, something trite and small. That’s how relationships were made, no one would die for a man on their first meeting. Cooperation was a house, to start building it, first you had to cut the grass on your building spot. “Olephia will also need clothes.” That was a perfect request, it would cost these men nothing, and it would make an even larger divide between them and the petty Divines of the White Pantheon.

“Of course.” Abakwa said. “We’ll send someone today, tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“Excellent.” Arascus said. “I thank you for your generosity.” From what he remembered of Allasaria, that woman would only show gratitude if she was handed the moon on a plate. It was time to show these people a new type of God. The rarest of them all, a God who let people get on with their lives without asking for anything. “Unless you have your own questions, we would request leave.” Kassandora was the second-best, behind Arascus, at negotiating, but she was always too blunt. When they had first met, she would always make these discussions impersonal, finish off with something like ‘our business is done’. That was a poor move, it made every move with her into a transaction.

Olephia started scrawling something quickly and then slid a piece of paper. Her handwriting was extremely pretty. Could I have paints? And an art-kit? Abakwa looked at it with some humour as Abubakar chuckled. The two men looked at her as if she was a little girl for second, before they realised they were talking with the Goddess of Chaos who had almost smashed Igos into the ground. “Of course.” Abubakar said, he turned to Chinua. “The University should be able to provide this, yes?”

“Of course.” The man said and tapped the table. “And I do have some questions. If you can answer them before you leave.”

“Ask away.” Arascus had hoped for some. Fighting was one thing, but fighting won battles. Words won hearts and minds. He had always preferred winning the latter.

“In regards to…” The man gestured to Olephia. “Olephia’s radiation. We are recording it now, but if you know any information about it, it would be extremely helpful.”

Arascus sat there as he thought quickly. The modern world was a marvel, with technology and terms that seemed to explain anything and everything. Technology and terms he had not come across in the past: radiation was one such term. He thought of what to say, and eventually settled on the smart answer, the least pretentious option he had available that did not admit he was a fish out of water. “Where is the radiation?”

“In the lighthouse and the water, the water will clear most likely just through ocean currents, but we’ve quarantined the lighthouse since it’s at a level dangerous for human life.” Arascus looked at the great lighthouse in the distance.

“The one Olephia was close to?” He asked.

“Yes.” Chinua replied. The lighthouse shot out of the water like a cliff, as if a giant had misplaced a massive brick in a puddle. Arascus thought for a moment, he had not thought it possible to measure Olephia’s Curse. It wasn’t something healable, like Baalka’s diseases, Olephia simply contaminated lands she visited when she started to speak. That was that, in the past, it had always simply been called Olephia’s Curse. He remembered the tests they had ran long ago.

“From just humming, adults should be safe in sixty-four days, for children, double it, for pregnant women, double it again. It causes harm to the baby.” Chinua nodded eagerly and wrote it down.

“Thank you.”

“We ran these tests in a different age, so the results may differ. It’s been a long time since Olephia used her powers.” Chinua shook his head.

“We were wondering if the Lighthouse would have to be demolished but if you say that the half-life is short enough to where it disperses in two months, then…” He turned to the other men. “Well, it’s a weight off our shoulders, isn’t it?” Arascus had no clue what the term ‘half-life’ meant.

“It is.” Abakwa said. “Very well. I know you said you wanted to leave but if there is anything else, we are more than eager to provide.” Arascus had thought this would come sooner rather than later, they felt indebted, and now they wanted to start clawing that debt back before the interest would accrue.

“I would like to inspect the Jungle myself some time from now.” Arascus said. “But before that, I’d like to read your reports on it.” He thought of if it was too direct. He had grown too used to simply ordering people about back at the base. “If that would be possible. I don’t want state secrets or anything like that.”

“It will be done, but I will have to ask you to wait a while.” Domkat said, he chuckled. “If I’m honest, you two have made a mess we have to clean up now.” Arascus almost burst out in laughter. If the man was willing to make small jabs like this now, he had obviously grown to like them.

“Olephia tends to make a mess.” Arascus put his arm around the Goddess and brought her close as she quickly scrawled something: Apologies but I will do more harm than good. “But if you need Divine help, then I am here.”

The men looked at each other one last time, all of them obviously happy with how the conversation turned out. Abakwa took charge. “Domkat, you and me, will draw up a plan. Abubakar, find accommodation for them and the pilots. Hold a news conference, calm the people.” Finally he turned to Arascus and put his arm forward. “I’ve met the other Epan Divines before, and they were nothing like you.”

“I hope that’s putting me in a good light.” Arascus knew the answer already.

“It certainly is. You are much better.” And then Abakwa shook hands with Olephia. The girl looked at him with confusion, actually recoiled for a moment, then smiled, shook hands and started writing quickly. She slid the paper to Abakwa and the man chuckled as he read it.

You are the first man to ever want to shake my hand. Whether brave or stupid, I do not know. And then, at the end, she added little doodle of a face: :)