An atrocity is called an atrocity because it is intolerable. Although the majority of us have the lessons of survival by now, there is still value in putting them to paper, for the future generations if not for us. The Eras of unanswerable despots led to Worldbreaking. Divines, although powerful, are no longer untouchable.
My equals consider me a tyrant, I know they curse my name behind my back. In truth, I must have some inklings to tyranny in me. I will not pretend to be innocent in that regard, yet my tyranny is a product of self-preservation. It is only because I have kept my fellow Divines on a tight leash that we have retained relevancy into the modern era. I only need to point to the current-day mascots and compare them to previous national incarnations to show how much power Divinity has actually lost.
The advent of industrial technology, the slow march of march and the exponential growth of populations have only been countered by Pantheon Peace, by Magical Demilitarization and by Divine Courts. Divines were being killed off by mortals long before the advent of the Great War, I struggle to find any of us who are actually stupid or prideful enough to think that if the various mortal races actually tried to, they would not be able to wipe us out.
Excerpt from ‘Divine Rule’, written by Allasaria, Goddess of Light.
Iliyal sighed and leaned back in his chair. It was oversized for a human, but perfect for him. He sat in his command tent, close to the frontline, although that had mainly been chosen because of the fact that Olonia, Saksma and Paida were sent as a response force from this base. He poured himself a glass of Lubskan vodka at an agonizingly slow pace before finally putting the bottle down on the foldable steel table. His bunk bed was close by, along with a crate stuff with organized folders. Iliyal made a show inspecting the entire tent, its pale cloth, the carpets on the floor, all of it, before finally looking at the guests.
looked at the four men from Zawitz, Lubska’s Capital. He had seen the city a few times in person, although not recently. That meant not in the past century. After a certain point, especially with modern surveillance and cameras, things simply got too dangerous to travel about like that. That was when he was running Arascus’ Cult in Karaina. Now, even though he could walk around openly, there simply wasn’t enough time.
There wasn’t enough time, and Iliyal had never once forgotten how easily a man fell to an assassin’s blade.
Iliyal stared at the four men from Zawitz as he sat in the chair of his tent. He kept his hands on the table though, there was no reason to show off the fact he was nervous of them. And frankly, he knew that if they tried to shoot him, he’d be faster. “I apologize, but I must have misheard you.” Iliyal said. The other men in the room, the commanders of the Lubskan army that Iliyal had picked out for promotions, all tall elves, all smiled.
Aryon and Menith, both centuries old, yet that only meant they were children compared to Iliyal, and Beryon and Alinth, who were indeed children by all standards but ones based purely off biological growth: they were eighty and one-twenty respectively. All four had their hair cut short now, to fit in with the style that the humans used, and all four had suits that Iliyal had asked for. Helenna had made them, or at least made the inspiration for them in the HAUPT uniforms. They stood in black coats and tall boots and looked at the four men from Zawitz with nothing but such sheer, incredulous, pretentious, arrogance that only elves could manage them.
The three bodyguards Iliyal had assigned to himself were there too, Hubert, Jazior and Hamek, all native Lubskans. Burly men, with good senses of humour. That, Iliyal always appreciated in guards for himself. He didn’t talk and joke with them too much, but the fact they enjoyed their job and were thankful for it made them twice as loyal. They wouldn’t have such an easy affair anywhere else, so naturally they made themselves do a good job. And, they were huge, the three largest men Iliyal could find in his army. The fact one of them chuckled at Iliyal’s tone was exactly what the elf was hoping to achieve.
“Misheard which part exactly?” The tallest man from Zawitz said. Iliyal had heard their names, he simply decided they weren’t important. These were bureaucrats, nothing more, nothing less.
“The part about heading to Zawitz to run a course for next year’s officers.” Iliyal said dryly. He extended his arm to the four elves. “I am training four replacements here.” The four Lubskans looked at the elves then dryly looked back to Iliyal. This was another reason for choosing elves in specific, what sort of human could look at an elf and treat him equally? It was simply impossible, the human inferiority complex was just too strong.
That inferiority complex, Kassandora had identified in the past. Elves made for good generals precisely because they were elves, soldiers could have no hope in human skill, but still rise to the fight because an elf was leading them.
And it also meant that humans rarely, if ever tried to bargain with elves. Elves were such mystical creatures that they were simply too noble to even know what corruption and betrayal meant. And to pull an elf away from another elf? Simply unthinkable! Iliyal smiled to himself. What better way was there to assure that the leadership listened to him, than by choosing a leadership that the other side wouldn’t even bother trying to buy out? Another of the Lubskan men from Zawitz spoke up this time, a shorter man, balding, with dark eyes. “It’s a government affair, we’ve decided to transfer you.”
Iliyal answered with a grim expression and slowly sighed. “I see.” General Tremali stood up and looked down at the four men. “Come, I will show exactly what is being done here.”
“The decision is made already.” One of the men said.
“Are you aware of the level of organisation that goes into managing this front?” Iliyal asked. “And the fact that I run this, I’m assisting the Rilians hold against Fortia?” That much was true too, although Iliyal wasn’t managing them on a day-by-day basis like here, instead simply sending generic advice on what to do.
The four men sighed and looked amongst themselves. “We have are not here for a discussion.”
“Either way, what do you expect me to do?” Iliyal said as he walked past the men. “I assume one of you will be staying here, am I right, or not?” The four men shared looks as Iliyal started pulling the cloak back. “Yes or no? Are you children? We’re fighting a war here!”
“All four of us are staying.” One of the men said. “We’re the elected war committee.” Iliyal nodded at the words. An elected war committee. Lovely. He had never heard of such a stupid idea.
Stolen story; please report.
“Excuse me?” Iliyal asked, he looked at his four elven captains. “Come, you follow too.” This would be a good lesson for them too: on what to do when humans overstepped their boundaries with their silly little political machinations.
“The four of us will discuss strategies together in order to formulate a plan against Maisara.”
“I see, you will do better than me than.” Iliyal asked sarcastically as he stepped out of his tent. The camp was Kassandora’s standard design, the tents arranged in circles around campfires to make sure the men got to interact and build camaraderie, the circles themselves were arranged in rows and columns to maximize throughput. The bright Sun was shining above, Doschian tanks and artillery were rolling about the camp, heading towards the front.
The recent event in Arika, whatever had happened there, had been interesting. Iliyal had spent all of ten minutes watching the news before realising it would be a disaster on a scale never seen before, and then ten minutes more before realising that if he was watching the news, everyone else would be too. So his army had launched a counter-attack.
From the reports, Maisara’s Paladins had been caught off-guard, they were all watching the news too.
One of the men answered again. “Whereas we don’t think we could defeat you one-on-one, it is four minds against one.” Iliyal sighed, he let whatever it was he just heard stand. Frankly, he had lived too long to deal with such stupidity, War was not a popularity contest, no one truly liked working under Kassandora, but everyone admired and respected the Goddess of War because she brought results. And sometimes, results came from swift decision making that would simply be impossible if the logic had to be explained. Iliyal looked around the camp as he lifted his hand. It would be better to get them comfortable at first, because he had no intention of handing the reigns of this army over.
Frankly, what would it achieve? They must have purposefully chosen a time when Olonia wasn’t here, because they would know that the Goddess of Lubska would step up to protect Iliyal. Now, if he sent them back home, he would know exactly what sort of headlines would be circulating in the press tomorrow: Iliyal Tremali wants to coup Lubska!
“That way is the armoury.” He set off north, towards the wood that the camp was placed close to. It served as a good natural barrier to any of Maisara’s cavalry or siege engines. And there had been reports that the Paladins were starting to field rifles too. “That way is the officer’s mess tent.” Iliyal pointed out every tent that wasn’t for sleeping in, from the medical triage tent to the ammunition stockpiles.
“Why do you have an officer’s mess tent?” One of the men asked. Iliyal rolled his eyes, of course they wouldn’t get it. These men were thinking they would democratically run a war effort.
“Would you expect Olonia to dine with you?” Iliyal asked.
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you expecting the officers to?” That was no reason whatsoever, the real reason was much simpler. The officers got better rations, it would be bad for moral if the men saw the difference.
“Oh.” One of the men said, as if he thought he knew what Iliyal was entailing at. Iliyal tuned the men out as they started pointless, meandering and thoroughly stupid questions. There were some out there, Anassa was one, who would always show off. But Kassandora had taught Iliyal not to expend energy. The men following him would only see the issues in the statements these four were making, whereas the guests from Zawitz would not be convinced either way.
So Iliyal trekked through the camp, until they got to the forest. Iliyal quickly made up a reason to go into the woods. “We have buried stockpiles here.” Iliyal said. “I won’t show you all of them because we’d be here a week, but we’ll dig one out. Guard team, get shovels, then meet us inside.” Iliyal’s three huge bodyguards veered off as they went to get shovels.
“Why exactly?” The tallest man asked.
Iliyal had lived more than long to be able to think of a satisfactory answer. “It’s safer when its buried. From mages and from Divines and from thievery.” It was a completely stupid answer, who would bury supplies? Why? So that when they were needed, hours would need to be spent on digging them back out? Even a moment of logical thought would poke holes in what Iliyal just said.
But he said it confidently and clearly, and he was Iliyal Tremali, General of Kassandora, and he was an elf. What sort of human would question credentials like that? So Iliyal led the men through the forest and stopped as soon as he was sure they were out of sight. “So we’re just to wait here?” One of the four men spoke up.
“You can use your hands if you want.” Iliyal answered flatly. He gave Hubert and the bodyguards ten minutes, but Iliyal’s long elven ears caught the sound of them approaching within seven. Just as Iliyal had said, Hubert was smart enough to know he had a good position, so he tried twice as hard for it.
“And what exactly do yo-“ Iliyal ignored the man’s questions as he turned to his four elves. They were looking at him, half questioning as to what the plan was, half almost excited because they seemed to realise what was about to happen. Iliyal picked out the oldest amongst them to serve as the first part of the lesson.
“Read my mind.” Iliyal said as he drew his pistol and handed it to Menith. It was a purposefully unclear instruction, but Menith was an elf, and an aged one at that. He should be able to work it out. The captain took the pistol.
“What are you-“ Iliyal ignored the four men from Zawitz. They weren’t important now. He was forging leaders here, and whereas he could count the amount of leaders with clear consciences he knew on one hand, there was no such thing as a leader with hands that were clean. Iliyal hurried Menith along before the four started to run, he made a quick throw of his head at the four men.
Menith looked at the at the pistol in his hand. He understood the assignment immediately. His arm went up, the pistol pointed at the four men ahead of him. He pulled the trigger four times, each man got brand new opening in the head. “Good.” Iliyal said as he turned around. He saw Hubert approaching with a shovel in his hand, the other two men carried their digging tools too. Excellent, Iliyal turned to the other elves.
“Question, Beryon, this one’s for you. How did these men die?” Iliyal asked. Beryon answered immediately, in a cold and definite tone as if he was nothing more than recalling from memory. This man was good, he would be the first to be promoted.
“There was an attack by Maisara’s forces on headquarters. Unfortunately, these four men didn’t listen to advice and got in the line of fire. We tried to save them, taking several casualties in the process, but could not.” Beryon said as Iliyal stood there with a smile. Hubert pressed the shovel into the dirt and started to dig. Jazior and Hamek got to it too. Iliyal turned to Alinth.
“So what do we do now?” Alinth narrowed his eyes for a moment, then looked at the grave being dug. Iliyal gave the man a few seconds to answer, he was young after all.
Alinth did answer, and he answered well. “We send a letter to Zawitz, informing them of what just happened as well as making sure to tell them…” He took a breath, Iliyal gave the man a smile to say he was on the right track and hurried him along with a movement of his hand. “To remind them that this is a warzone and that we cannot guarantee the safety of any civilians.”
“Excellent answer.” Iliyal said. He turned to the last elf, Aryon. “Alinth said what we will say to the government, but what should we do about rumours?”
Aryon answered quickly, just as Beryon did. “We release a casualty statement today and say what happened.” Aryon replied simply. “There’s nothing much to it, we just get ahead of the curve, ideas have first-mover’s advantage.” Aryon did not disappoint, Iliyal would do the same himself.
“And then?”
“We simply ignore any other theories, trying to argue against them will give them credence.” Aryon said. “We’re in a war, they’ll be forgotten about a month from now.” Iliyal could barely contain his smile.
Some people said elves were uncorruptible. They were wrong. Elves were simply too cautious and too smart to take chances that weren’t definite. But give an elf permission to take risks, assure them of protection, and look at them reveal their true nature.
They were the worst of the lot.