Interlude

The sacred city

After the Gods came, everything changed.

I am a humble person, and as such I struggle to put in order the thoughts I am now going to write in this little journal.

So, dear reader, I apologize if my words are not enough to describe the complexities of reality and the endless facets of history.

What I can tell you is what my eyes have observed over the years.

But where to begin?

When the Gods first showed themselves to us, we were incredulous.

Try to understand us, until then our prayers had gone unheard and our suffering had been a constant for times immemorial.

So it was not strange that many were skeptical at first.

It was difficult to trust strangers who had come from nowhere, and who could boast powers never before recorded in history.

"Could they really be Gods?"

"I don't know…"

Doubt crept into the needy minds of fearful people lacking certainty, who only wanted their woes to end. But, don't get the wrong idea, the unsure numbered only a few.

"Yes, I'm sure of it. How else can you explain the way they saved us from those horrible monsters?"

My mother had been one of the first disciples of the new cult. From the day the Six saved both her and me, it was as if she had been reborn.

"Elisa, isn't it splendid? If only your father were still here. But I'm sure from where he looks at us, he is happy to know we are safe."

"If they are Gods, why don't they bring Dad back to life?"

"Don't be silly. The Gods certainly can't waste their time on us, mere mortals. Be thankful that they saved us."

I had my doubts, but seeing my mother so happy for finally finding the peace she longed for was enough. Was mother content? Then so was I.

Our villagers were not the only ones blessed with the protection of the Six.

At first, we were a small community, but quickly more and more villages began to join ours.

Within a year, we had reached the size that no other human settlement had ever even grazed in the past.

"Look, friends," my mother had become one of the first preachers of the new faith. She, and many others, would get up at morning vespers, just before the workday began, to share the 'good news,' as they called it. "Every day new refugees come here to us, knowing that they will find protection here. Why, you ask? Because they know that here their pain can have an end. We have been granted a gift, so beautiful that I feel like crying. The days of my childhood, spent hiding from a danger I did not understand, are now over!"

When she would start with her sermons, not even the time for breathing was wasted. A proficiency that took me years to assimilate.

"I remember when my parents died. I didn't even have time to bury them, or mourn them, intent as I was on finding a way to save myself. But by now, those are just memories. If you worship the Gods, you will never again suffer the pangs of hunger! You will no longer fear the night! The only thing awaiting you in your future is prosperity!"

She knew how to get the crowds fired up, no doubt about it.

I would act as her assistant, carrying the various papers on which her speeches were jotted down. In time, I began to share her ideas.

After all, it was the truth. The life we were living before was not remotely comparable to the new one.

Knowing that there was someone watching over us allowed us to devote our time to everything that before was just a waste of time.

Music, literature, painting, and theater. If before only the professions necessary for survival found a place in daily life, we were now learning about, partly through the guidance of the Gods, a new world that we had previously ignored.

Before the Gods, we were surviving, but now we had begun to live.

What about the Gods, in all of this?

They were living with us, eating with us. Well, at least almost all of them.

"The God of death is scary, isn't it?"

"I heard that he repelled a horde of Beastmen attacking a nearby village the other day. A pilgrim said he didn't even have to move to make those creatures collapse lifelessly to the ground."

"I am grateful to him. But I hope I never see his face. They say he's gruesome. Don't you think the same, Elisa?"

Always locked up in the royal palace, the God of death was never seen by ordinary mortals except in very rare cases. Why did he need to meet with us if he would one day lead to the afterlife?

"No, I don't think so."

I, however, was fascinated by him. After all, it was he who had saved me that fateful day. I knew there couldn't be anything so terrible about him. Or at least I hoped so.

I was always looking up at the sky, wondering if I would see him again someday.

"Look at him, Elisa. Isn't it beautiful? This is your little brother."

About five years after the coming of the Gods, my half-brother was born.

Unlike me, godly blood flowed in his veins.

Yes, in the previous world, many women and men had been widowed. And rather than remarry with old and pathetic humans of their own kind, they had decided it was better to reproduce with the Gods. Would you have judged them for their choice?

For their part, our protectors were more than happy to give themselves to humans. At the time I did not have a clear idea of how sex worked, but in retrospect, it was evident that the Six -or perhaps it would be better to say the Five- found it a decidedly fulfilling activity.

"Have you decided on a name for him?"

"Lian, after your father."

I know, naming the child you received from your second union after your late husband would perhaps have seemed distasteful. But, dear reader, try to understand.

We had realized that the children of the gods were not mere humans.

Many of them showed extraordinary abilities and exponential growth from an early age.

At first, we thought it was just a coincidence, but the more time passed the more we understood that lineage determined the abilities that could be bestowed.

And on a more venial level, the Gods were beautiful. It was not strange that every man or woman, regardless of their sexual inclinations, desired to lie with one of them.

It was something beyond mere physical appearance. A primal desire drew us with a magnetic force impossible to resist.

Even I, once I reached adulthood, found it difficult not to fall into temptation. Not that I ever had that honor, of course.

"Big sister, who is my father?"

Lian grew up quickly and, like many of his half-brothers and half-sisters, proved to be the rightful heir of the Wind God.

At six years old, he was already stronger than a grown man.

The herculean might he had could be a danger to many of our neighbors, so I spent a lot of time trying to train him and teach him how to control it. Not with many brilliant results.

Seeing how quickly it was growing was a joy for me. I confess that quickly, busy as our mother was with clergy affairs, I began to see him more like a son than a brother.

He was my pride.

"See that palace in the center of the city?"

By now we were no longer a mere gathering of stragglers, but a real nation.

Towns and villages sprang up with each new day as our capital city grew more powerful and majestic.

Kami Miyako, the city of Gods, we called it.

"Your father lives up there. He is the God of Wind. He who darts through the skies every day to keep us safe."

"Wow. Do you think I can meet him someday?"

"I'm sure."

Lian's father, the God Nekole, was also known as the most 'energetic' of his kind.

In the capital alone, it was estimated that there were at least a hundred of his descendants.

Although my half-brother never socialized with any of them during his boyhood, in time he learned that the family he was a part of was much larger than he thought.

And so, Lian also grew up. The little boy became a beautiful man with hair as blue as the sea and a physique as perfect as a work of art.

I had now become a full-time priest of the cult of the Six Great Gods.

But the more time passed, the more the commitments of our deities increased.

Our enemies grew more and more, and even the Gods could not be everywhere.

"It is time for you to learn to defend yourselves!"

Imirduo, the Earth God, was the first to realize that humans could not continue to live in the shadow of their protectors.

I was twenty-five years old when the Scriptures were born.

At first, they were an independent organization under the direct control of the Earth God, but soon, as their numbers grew, relations with the clergy intensified.

Churchmen, like myself, were the word. The Scriptures, on the other hand, the sword.

"Big sister, I was enlisted. I will also fight in the army of the Gods."

Liam, of course, was one of the chosen ones. I can't say it made me happy, but I understood that increasing our military might was necessary now that we were beginning to gain more and more of our own autonomy.

Like him, many others of the descendants of the Gods formed what would, in time, become our elite units.

We coniated a name for those like him.

Heroes.

"It is absolutely vital to keep track of all descendants. It is in the blood that the various skills are passed from one individual to another."

In concert with the military apparatuses, various citizen census organizations were born.

Our growth was exponential.

By the time I had reached thirty-five, we were on par with the great neighboring nations.

"Lady Elisa, did you hear? The Wind God killed a dragon as big as a mountain the other day. The Red Empire is asking for a treaty of peace."

After years of hard work, I had achieved a certain position within the clergy. I and a few others were beginning to be called Cardinals by our colleagues because of our experience and devotion.

Interpreters of the divine will, if you will.

"Yes, Lord Nekole told me about it the other day. He didn't explain in detail what happened, but he assured me that there is nothing to fear anymore. Once again, our fellow citizens are safe."

"Ah, what joy! To be in close contact with the Gods! I pray that such good fortune will happen to me someday."

"I am sure it will, brother."

The Gods had begun to show themselves less and less.

Only a few close associates had access to their rooms.

Why?

The truth was that they were getting older.

Like ordinary human beings.

Except for him, of course. But the God of Death had been locked up in his rooms for years, and except for his companions and the lesser deity who assisted our Gods, no one could see him.

"Sister, I met my father the other day. He exuded that aura of legend that bards sing about. But he was not as I had imagined him all these years."

"What do you mean?"

"He looked ... old. He even had a few wrinkles on his face. Maybe I made a mistake."

"I'm sure that was the case. Lord Nekole is just tired from the constant traveling he has to do every day to keep us safe. But there's nothing to worry about."

"If a Cardinal says so, I have no doubt."

Life continues like this for many years. I and the other Cardinals were the only ones aware of a secret that was getting heavier to bear every day.

But how could we tell the population? How could we tell them that soon their Gods would be gone?

I still recall my mother's words on her deathbed.

"I am grateful. I never thought I would die peacefully, surrounded by my loved ones. I was sure I would not reach the age you are now. And, instead, here I am. Hardly anyone reached old in my day. How beautiful life is. I can't wait to meet your father again and tell him about all the experiences I've had."

Like her, so many others had achieved the peace they had so longed for. And now there was a danger that things would return to the way they were before.

The first to leave us was the Earth God.

He who had worked so hard for our future was the first who could not see it fulfilled.

At least he would achieve immortality through his works, that was what I told myself to console myself.

A lie that hid the despair I felt.

"For now, only the other Gods and minor deities are aware of the 'rise' of the God Imirduo, besides us. But..."

"Soon the other Gods will catch up with him. And the time will come to tell the inhabitants of the Theocracy the truth."

Slaine's Theocracy. This was the name we had given to our home.

Slaine. In honor of the Six who had given us a future.

"But how can we do that? I was only a child at the time, but I remember well the state our people were in."

It was then that I illustrated my proposal.

"We will create a story. The Gods are not dead. They have only returned to the astral plane from whence they came, to protect our world from dangers we cannot imagine."

"Do you think it will work?"

"We have no other choice."

The others reluctantly agreed with me.

And so, we initiated our plan. Every priest, no matter the rank or position, was instructed on what he had to say to the people.

The Gods had not abandoned us. But they simply had other, much more important matters to attend to.

That is why they had mingled with us for so long. In their generosity, they had given us a way to defend ourselves.

I don't know how many of them actually believed the story we tacked on, but the fact is that the doctrine remained united.

Also, any possible departure from the dogma we had imposed was suppressed in blood.

I am not proud of it. But it was necessary. Was killing other humans the right choice? For the greater good everything was.

In the end, even the Wind God left us.

"I hope I will see him again one day."

Lian never knew what had truly happened to his father.

In his head, the paladin of the Theocracy was experiencing new adventures in dimensional planes other than our own. Protecting us from unholy demons who tried to corrupt our spirits.

My brother was happy. And so was I.

Then came the fatal hour for the Goddesses of Fire and Water.

Last, was the God of Life.

He alone remained, in that immense tower we now called the Cathedral, buried in the highest part of the building.

No one had access to that place. What he was doing there was a mystery that very few dreamed of finding out.

We Cardinals were working tirelessly, trying to hold together the fragile balance we were building.

One evening, locked in my thoughts, I began to wander aimlessly in the Cathedral of Darkness.

Without realizing it, I arrived at the treasure room, where all the legacies of the Gods were kept.

Driven by an unexpected curiosity, I entered.

"Welcome."

A ghostly, thread-thin voice greeted me.

It was him.

Surshana.

Chapter 24

Master race

Upper Water Month, 23rd day, 7.00

Decem woke up. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the flowers were blooming.

The Elf King got out of bed, peeling back the sheets that caressed his bare skin like a loving mother.

Affixed to the right end of the bedroom was a giant glass mirror. Decem spent a few minutes, naked, observing himself.

All along his long life, he had received before him the most capable artists in Crescent Lake. His gaze had set eyes on tables laden with color, whose chiaroscuros replicated the symmetries of reality with effective naturalness.

Music of every possible composition of instruments and singing skills, structured successions of simple or complex sounds, varying in pitch, intensity, and timbre, organized according to different dimensions of melody, harmony, and rhythm had delighted his ears.

The most exquisite food had adorned his banquets, and the sweetest wine had moistened his lips. His palate had known the richness of tastes well befitting a god.

The finest women, of all ages, from those who recalled spring with their enchanting youth to those who bore the sweet fruits of experience, had lain with him, granting the pleasures of the flesh to his body.

But none of this had shaken his soul to the core. The barrenness he felt within, similar to a desert that knows not the freshness of rain in decades, could not be thirsted by mere earthly sensations.

What Decem yearned for was greatness. The recognition that all his efforts should have rightly received. The perfect garden in which everyone would know peace under his enlightened rule. And now only an insignificant amount of time -what were days when one had to wait for decades? – until his dream could come true.

He dressed.

The guards outside the door, whose presence Decem deemed unnecessary, were bristling like iron spikes.

"Your majesty!" They greeted him in unison as they became aware of his presence.

The Elf King didn't respond. The sound of his voice was a gift that could only be granted to the most deserving of such a pleasure. Walking ahead of them, not a second glance was given.

He arrived in the throne room, the officials all present and standing at attention like good little soldiers. Lack of initiative and total incompetence were cancer spreading like a disease in the dying body they called a kingdom.

What a disgusting view.

"Your majesty! It is an honor to have you here with us!" The prime minister exclaimed aloud, using words that the Elf Monarch had now heard countless times. "Please enlighten us again today with your wisdom."

Decem sat down on the royal throne. It was so small. After taking his place as the rightful ruler of the world, he would have one erected whose grandeur would convey the magnitude of his radiance.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"How are the preparations going? Is the royal army ready?"

At his question, an unnatural chill spread through the room. Both the prime minister and the other officials began to look at each other in search of a suitable scapegoat on whom they would heap his wrath for their failures.

Idiots. As if he had time to waste on such trash. Over the years, Decem had come to realize, with bitter disappointment, that he could not hold other members of his species to the same high standards on which he positioned himself.

A sad truth, made bitter by the clash of his high expectations with the harsh reality.

"So?" He asked a second time, slightly raising the timbre of his voice. Having to repeat himself was not an action befitting a King, but his generosity transcended such trifles.

"In truth..."

"Everything is ready!"

A youthful voice, in stark contrast to that sleeve of old barn owls drowning out his splendor, brought a modicum of relief to the King's mood.

"Oh," with an expression of surprise, Decem looked fixedly into the face of the little owner of that sound emission. Eyes of different colors stared at him with a mixture of fear and awe. Black and white. Exactly like his own. "So, I take it from this that both the forest lords and the army of wood elves and dark elves are in place. Good work, Ruri."

There was no trace of affection in his congratulations. Love was a poison that could infect the sharpest mind and cripple the strongest physique. A weakness he could not allow to pollute such poor offspring.

"Speaking of the dark elves," his daughter began hesitantly. Of course, expecting a job well done was a witless mistake. And he had sinned foolishly, a grim reality to acknowledge, too many times now. "There was no time to warn the villages on such short notice. They live on the edge of the forest and..."

"Are those excuses I hear!?" Decem broke that pathetic cascade of nonsense in the bud. "If I wanted to feel shame for my children, I would have made them fight with one of the forest lords. Inconceivable, I thought you were different from those other rejects. But, clearly, giving you my attention was not enough to motivate you!"

A woman approached Ruri, placing herself between the little girl and the king.

"My king," there the pleas began. So detestable. His eardrums were pleading that he put an end to that farce immediately, so that they would not have to be humiliated in listening to that nonsense. "Ruri has spent days and nights working together with her siblings and the various generals to organize the numerous troops scattered throughout the forest. Please have mercy!"

A King is an individual who is distinguished by his virtue. Even if he is forced to be continually disappointed, showing the generosity befitting a person of his rank is an inescapable duty.

"Okay, all right," Decem flavored the foodstuffs offered to him by his attendant. The taste was too ordinary for him, but he avoided making a ruckus of it. Expecting more? Pointless. "For this time there will be no repercussions. However, should such a poor result repeat, it will be punished as it deserves. Do we understand each other?"

Both mother and daughter knelt down, placing their heads on the floor to show their devotion. "Understood, o great king! We thank you for your generosity!" They continued for a few minutes, rattling off every conceivable and imaginable thanks.

After that farce finished, Ruri spoke again.

"Is all this truly necessary? Why gather all those men to fight one girl?"

It was the obligation of the higher beings to enlighten the poor minds scattered in the darkness of ignorance with their intellect. Like a candle in the night, Decem began to rekindle the flame of knowledge "Because, my foolish daughter, the one who is heading our way with so much breathlessness could be the answer I have longed for so -too- long. Do you understand? My -our- dream might finally come true. The elves will rule this world as rightful rulers, with me at their head."

"So, the soldiers we have prepared are just sacrifices to test your daughter?" One of the officials found the courage to show his concerns.

It was Decem's first time seeing him, or so he recalled. It couldn't be asked to keep in mind every useless elf who served him.

"Sacrifices?" Decem rose from his throne to approach the one who had dared to speak. "Tell me, do you know what that word means?"

The elf looked at his King, terror falling from his forehead like dew wets the grass in the morning. The realization that he had made a mistake took hold of him like an otherworldly apparition. Vestiges of a weakness that could not be contained. Pathetic.

"…N-no, m-my king." A stifled, graceless rattle.

"To sacrifice oneself is to give one's life for a greater ideal. You little, stupid, idiots are not worthy to belong to the same race as me. But I, from the height of my position, give you the chance to bask, albeit imperceptibly, in my light that shines the firmament like a blazing sun. This is an honor that is bestowed on only a chosen few. So no, those soldiers are not 'just' sacrifices. They are something much greater," he grabbed the official's shoulder and began to squeeze it tightly. The latter began to scream, but none of the others present thought at all of coming to his rescue. "Only those who are strong can question my orders. Tell me, are you strong?"

"N-n-no, my king," the wails of pain grew louder as the elf king's grip continued to hold firm. "… F-forgive this pathetic s-servant and his arrogance."

"Do you repent for your sins?"

"…I-I do."

"You are forgiven." Decem's expression lit up with a heavenly smile. The elf thought he was saved. "Your death will be the suitable atonement for your disrespect."

The official felt his shoulder begin to twitch as his bones twisted into unnatural positions.

He fell to the ground with a motion devoid of elegance, as a leaf is blown by a gentle wind over the dirty earth.

'Even in death, these idiots lack beauty.'

Giving him a chance to make up for his sins had perhaps been an unwarranted act of charity. Appropriate punishment would have been the most just response. But a good heart was the Elf King's weakness.

"You," he addressed his prime minister peremptorily. "Have this filth cleaned up as soon as possible, I don't want the sight of this corpse to sully the throne room even more."

"It shall be done!" At least someone from whom one could expect a modicum of competence was among those useless rats.

"My mood is ruined. Pray that this experiment succeeds or I may finally decide to end your useless lives." As he watched the lifeless body being taken away by some guards, a long-held suspicion was confirmed. "Yes, perhaps the problem is the lack of raw material. If buried in mud, even the most precious diamond loses its luster."

"Father, if I may," Ruri took the floor. Even issuing a single letter was a source of fear for the girl. Another failed experiment? Hope in her still shone faintly. "What are the criteria for considering the experiment successful?"

That was the question everyone was asking themselves, but no one dared yet to express. Like the benevolent ruler he was, Decem stooped to explain his plans to those fools. Wishing they could decipher his intentions was only a vain hope.

"It's very simple," he tried to sound out each word as much as possible, in such a way that even those idiots could understand him. "If no survivors return, then the hoped-for result will have been achieved. A small army like the one we have prepared should be no problem for a daughter worthy of my blood."

Silence fell. Frost brought winter to the room.

"…A-all of them?" Ruri asked, shaken.

"All of them. But there is no need to feel pity. Their bodies will live as an offering to my greatness. When I rise as the undisputed leader of the world, they will be remembered in the songs of the bards forever. I offer them the immortality of history. Am I not a generous ruler?"

Everyone began to applaud and cheer for him. It was a roaring, uncertain manifestation of awe, not worthy of a superior being like him. None of those movements were authentic. But Decem was satisfied, nonetheless. Wishing for more would have been madness.

"The forest of Evasha will be the theater of our carnival." A smile filled with seraphic ardor popped up naturally on his perfect face. "Fate itself shows us that this meeting will be the dawning of a new dawn. Soon… so soon. Once reunited, we will give new meaning to the word perfection. Even the dragons of the past will kneel before our strength!"

A fat, atrocious laugh began. It was made of the same substance of nightmares.

"But," Ruri was still uncertain. "Should my sister also be able to pass the 'test' and exceed expectations, didn't she come here as an assassin of the Theocracy? What if she decides to not cooperate with your… our plan?"

Decem stopped his exultations.

"Could a daughter ever refuse what her beloved father orders her to do?" He approached the little girl, calmly. No desire to frighten her. "Would you ever refuse an order from me?"

They were only a few centimeters apart now. Her mother seemed to be about to stand between them again, but fear can immobilize better than any chain.

"N...no, father."

"Good girl." Decem sighed, letting that lack of intelligence and common-sense fall into the void. "And even if she should throw a tantrum, it's every good parent's job to bring unruly children on the right path, don't you think?"

"Y... yes, father. Forgive this foolish daughter for the stupid question."

Decem moved even closer; by now they could hear each other's breathing. The king took a closer look at his daughter. That immature body, the breasts not yet developed, and the face that still bore the marks of girlhood.

She was not ready. Few more years before she could fulfill the other project that had been predetermined for her.

Decem stroked her hair, white and silky like his own. His fingers brushed her reddish cheeks, which shyly retracted at his touch, like a frightened puppy.

What did he read in her eyes that watched him like a frightened fawn watches the hunter? A desire for rebellion or a soul yearning for mercy? Why couldn't they understand that the burden rested not only on them alone, but also on him?

Couldn't they spare some commiseration also for their father? All he did was for his children, after all.

"In recent times I have realized something. Do you know what was the biggest mistake I made in mixing my blood with common elves?"

Ruri shook her head as she tried to look away from him. The king, however, forced her to look him in the eye.

"Purity. I did not take purity into account. I have sinned in arrogance, and do you know why?"

Still no answer. The other elves also began to wonder about their king's inquiries.

"I foolishly believed that my blood, my genes, alone would be enough to suppress your inferiority. Was I not foolish? Don't avert your eyes! Look at me! What do you see?"

"I see..."

"I said look at me!"

"Perfection, father."

"Good girl. What if I brought a mirror instead? What would you see reflected?"

Ruri began to sob. Her tears were disgusting. Decem contemplated tightening his grip. It would only have taken a second to push life away from that little body. And what would change in the end? Never again. Never again would he allow his descendants to be so ... frail.

"M-myself."

"And what are you, child?"

"…Weak."

"That's right," Decem let go of the hold. The Elf King saw his daughter struggling to hold on as she tried to catch her breath. "Your inferiority is so overwhelming that it has infected even the supremacy of my lineage." This time his words were addressed to everyone present, who lowered the eyes in shame. They were dismayed at their own futility. "Having me as your King is the only fortunate event that has happened in the long history of this so-called kingdom. No, don't look at me like that. You know it's true. I have tried, for centuries, to give you back a modicum of worthiness. To make you shine as precious jewels. But even I have not succeeded in elevating you to something higher. My greatest failure. Look at yourselves. You hate me. I know you hate me. How could you not? Envy is a monster that feeds on weakness, and you offer a feast that will never end. Why don't you kill me then? Why do you serve me? Why don't you rebel?"

"Sire, if I may..."

"Silence! Did I give you permission to speak?"

The prime minister dared not breathe a word again. Not that Decem expected otherwise.

"Do you see? What are you without me? Sheep. No, you are even worse. Animals at least follow orders. They recognize their master. You kneel at my feet like frightened children so that I may save you from the dangers of this world. Yet, you complain when I try to make you walk on your legs." How many times? How many times had he had to provide for them? The time had come to say enough was enough. "Parasites fighting for a shred of dignity. But my indulgence is over. It is the dawn of a new era. Say goodbye to the merciful King you have known until today. From now on only the purest will be able to boast of the title of elf. I will never again let trash like you be compared to me."

"Ruri," his daughter had clung to the arms of her mother, who was shaking conspicuously. "You will be the second, after the daughter of the Theocracy. In the meantime, I entrust you with another duty, of the utmost importance."

The little girl broke away from her mother's embrace, trying to retain a modicum of decorum. Her voice, broken by crying, was uncertain and thin. "…I am at your command, father."

"Train and educate your sisters and brothers. When the time comes, all of you will have to fulfill other tasks for the preservation of my legacy."

"Nooo. You are a monster! How can you think of..." Before Ruri's mother had time to finish her slanders, Decem broke her neck bone with a quick hand motion. To speak such vulgarities in front of a child. Not a minimum of decorum.

"Today the insects think they are more imposing than they are but," he wiped his hand with a silk cloth offered to him by one of the attendants. Just the thought that he had to touch the skin of a lower being made him shudder. "It is good for you all to remember where you belong."

"… Mom, Mom..." Ruri kept shaking her parent's dead body, as if that futile gesture might bring her back to life. She had resumed crying, this time more profusely than before. "Mom, Mom...please answer me..."

Better this way. Without the nefarious influence of that pathetic woman -what was her name again? - perhaps his daughter would have begun to show a modicum of talent. Over time, Ruri would have thanked him.

"I retire to my rooms. I don't intend to be disturbed unless it is news concerning my daughter. The one from Theocracy, I mean. Ah, have a new throne built. One that is fitting for me."

"Yes," replied the prime minister, still shaken by events. Still, he avoided making any remonstrances. "I will provide for the burial of Nicaea. As for Ruri? What should I do?"

Decem did not need to think about it.

"I don't care. As long as the girl is ready to perform the tasks entrusted to her as soon as possible."

Upper Water Month, 23rd day, 7.00

"What are you reading, Lady Zesshi?"

Antilene raised her eyes from the book in her hands to take a better look at who had addressed her.

"Just an old diary given to me by the patron deity," she replied, scrutinizing the woman with long, blond hair who was now a few steps away from her. "It's very interesting. If you want, I can lend it to you when I'm done, Divine Chant."

"That might be interesting," replied Elena Melpomene Tersicore, current bard of Black Scripture. "And I could sing for you in return. Have you ever seen me perform in the theater?"

"No," lied Antilene. Not because she had actually seen her in the theater. Rather the girl remembered hearing her companion practice in the Cathedral of Darkness. Keeping it a secret was preferred, however, so as not to cause embarrassment. "I would be very pleased, once this mission is over. Are the others awake?"

"Yes. They sent for me to warn you that breakfast is ready."

"Let's go then."

Antilene headed with Elena toward the camp where the rest of their small group was. The Wind God's armor, except for the helmet, fit her like a second skin.

The half-elf had decided to rest a few meters away from them during the night, officially to stand guard in case a magical beast should attack them.

Unofficially to prevent her presence from making the rest of the Black Scriptures uncomfortable.

When they arrived, they found Cedran kneeling on the bare earth, chanting a litany that Antilene recognized as an invocation particularly dear to the Earth God.

A man with a face covered in tattoos looked at him with pity.

"We are on a mission, man. There is no need to set out every morning to pray so devoutly. I am sure the Gods are already more than satisfied with what we are doing." Cedran ignored that advice and continued with his moment of worship. "All right, have it your way. I was just saying that for you." Divine Chain took a bite of one of the sausages they had prepared for breakfast, beginning to chew it conspicuously with his mouth open.

"You're disgusting, Edgar," One Thousand League scolded him, as she tossed a few bits of food into the purse she always carried with her. "I should feed you to my little puppy. Who knows, then maybe you might finally learn some manners."

"Maybe. Surely for your big mouth that wouldn't be enough."

Cassandra gave him a look that could have stunned an undead.

"I foresee misfortune in your destiny. How sad."

"Hey! These are not things to joke about!"

"Will you be quiet!?" Blurted out Infinite Magic, irritated by their bickering. "Y... you will anger Lady Zesshi!"

"I see you always know how to amuse yourself," Antilene approached them as Time Turbulence offered a small plate containing the food they had prepared. "Is there any relevant news from the elves we interrogated?"

Since their group had arrived in the Evasha forest, they had been attacked by small groups of scouts practically every day.

The half-elf found it pleasant that her father cared to let her know that he was aware of her presence. How sweet.

Irritation that none of their captives knew anything interesting, nonetheless, was beginning to set in.

"No, unfortunately." After finishing with his prayers, Cedran had taken a seat next to his comrades. "Always the same old stuff. They have orders to inspect areas that were previously patrolled by the Theocracy and report back if they find any intruders, but beyond that they are groping in the dark. I don't think we'll find anyone in the vicinity who can give us what you're looking for, Lady Zesshi."

"I see," Antilene was not researching for any particular piece of information. But she was aware that before the final battle, every bit of help could be useful. "And of their bodies, what have you done with them?"

"We burned them," Aradia replied, trying not to meet the gaze of the extra seat. When no answer came, the woman began to hesitate. "W... We didn't make a mistake, right?"

"Hum? What? Ah, no. Sorry, I was thinking about something else."

"Is something troubling you, Lady Zesshi? Despite his small size and boyish features, Saturno was always the most perceptive in understanding others' feelings. "It is our job to allow you to focus on the mission without any distractions. If anything causes discomfort, I beg you to tell us."

"No, nothing serious," Antilene replied, deep in her heart happy about those concerns. "I was just thinking that maybe it would be better not to kill them. Useful information could be provided by these elves."

"If these are your wishes, they will be respected next time."

The half-elf, after realizing she had ended up the center of attention, tried to change the subject to suppress her embarrassment.

"How many more days until we reach Crescent Lake?"

Edgar pulled a map out of one of the bags he was carrying and placed it on a piece of wood nearby.

The man then pointed to what was marked as an encampment on the map.

"We are here. A few meters from the old guard post of the Theocracy," he explained, with unexpected professionalism "It will take us another week to get to the capital, if we proceed at a normal pace. If we want to hurry, it could take as long as two days. You may perhaps arrive even earlier, Lady Zesshi. But the risk of getting lost in this tide of trees is considerable."

"Better to take it easy. It's not like we have someone running after us after all."

Odd, isn't it? An assassination mission where the killers take their time, the target is aware they are coming, and without any sense of urgency.

"Are you sure you don't want to speed things up? We don't know how many traps your father has set." Saturno's concern was thus well justified, indeed totally adhering to all principles of logic.

"From the beginning, this was not an assassination attempt. But a confrontation," Antilene smiled, already anticipating the blood of her parent wetting her hands. "A confrontation that has waited almost two hundred years. Do you know why he decided to attack first?"

"To eliminate a nuisance that had been bothering him for some time," Cassandra ventured, uncertain. "I guess having an enemy army in one's kingdom is not optimal for development."

"It may be," the half-elf, however, was not convinced by those words. Holding up a finger and assuming a schoolmarm tone, she began to explain her reasons. "But I don't think it was because of that. The war had been going on for over a century, and the elf king had never shown any particular interest in his subjects. Why intervene now?"

"It's an invitation," Cedran grabbed the mighty shields that were part of his equipment, resting a few feet away from him. The nonchalance with which he lifted that weight testified to the power of his muscles. "And a warning. A proclamation that he was capable of destroying the Theocracy at any time he wished, and if we did not comply with his demands he would follow through on the threats."

"Exactly!"

"You call killing nearly fifty thousand people a warning?" Edgar was understandably shocked by that theory. Holding tightly to the chain he was wearing, he tried to take courage. "What kind of sick monster could reason like that?"

"My father," Antilene replied, tying her long hair into a braid suitable for her helmet.

"...I... I didn't mean to imply that..."

"Don't worry. I know perfectly well what a depraved being that man is," she looked Edgar fixedly in the eyes, to notice that Divine Chain began to blush furiously under her gaze. "If I were to lose, what do you think he could do to me?"

An embarrassed silence rose.

Aradia tried to say something, but nipped a possible tactless statement in the bud.

"Hahaha," a burst of sincere, crystal-clear laughter ended that quiet. "When I agreed to the mission, I was aware of what might happen. And I accepted the possible consequences... You should do the same."

"If you were to die, or worse, what would become of the Theocracy? No, of the entire human race..." Saturno gave voice to the concerns that were gripping Black Scripture.

"Humans will continue to survive, as they did before me and before the coming of the Gods. I am not as special as you think," their doubtful expressions seemed to say otherwise. "And the guardian deities would remain. And Aeneas. I am not as irreplaceable as you think."

Antilene spoke calmly, expounding a truth not only established but taken for granted.

Whether she had succeeded in convincing them, however, could not be said with certainty.

Elena began to hum a verse between her teeth.

"How beautiful is youth,

That one flees nevertheless!

Who wants to be happy, let him be:

Of tomorrow there is no certainty."

"What are you singing, Elena?" Aradia was enraptured by the sweetness of Divine Chant's voice, which was able to quench troubled spirits as water quenches flames.

"It's an old song. The guardian deity once taught it to me," the blond-haired woman began to explain, reminiscing about the past. "I think its meaning is 'don't let the future worry you.' I'm sure Lady Zesshi will be able to slay her father, and if she can't, we are here to back her up. There is no point in wrapping your head before it starts to bleed."

"Well said," Antilene agreed with her, emitting a joyous chuckle. "Rest assured. I have no intention of losing. My father is strong. Of that, there is no doubt. But I...," with Charon's Guidance she sliced off the head of a reptilian being who had sneaked up on them "I am much stronger. You should know that."

The beast's skull was grabbed by her right hand. She proudly displayed it in front of her Black Scripture comrades.

"Ghost chameleons are able to blend in perfectly when they are in the forests. I hadn't noticed either," Cassandra observed, adjusting her lenses to get a better look at the creature's now-hexane body. "How did you perceive it?"

"I didn't. In order to attack, the chameleon's species must become visible again. Simply, when its claws took shape, I launched myself in its direction without thinking."

By now Black Scripture had become accustomed to those demonstrations of ability, for no one was more astonished than normal at Antilene's explanation.

The half-elf was almost disappointed.

'Maybe I should be more stagey next time. I'll throw the scythe with a sharp blow. Or I could take down the enemy with my bare hands.'

As she pondered what might be the best way to leave her companions breathless, it dawned on her that Saturno had begun preparations to set off.

"Okay, I'd say we're ready to go."

At the signal from the second seat, they set off. To be on schedule they would have to cover several kilometers.

It happened that some magical beast would approach them, but most of the time it was enough for them to notice Antilene to start running away in fear.

This certainly made the journey more peaceful, although very, very boring.

Nevertheless, it seldom happened that any of the inhabitants of the Forest of Evasha, whether out of hunger or to prove their strength to their fellow specimens, would take courage and try to attack them.

Do we need to waste words to say that every one of them would quickly come to a bad end?

"Another shot well taken, Lady Zesshi!" Aradia noted with satisfaction, almost as if she had been the author of it herself, the death of beings that looked like the demonic cross between a man and a fly.

"Chasmes are insidious adversaries," the blackish blood of those horrors still stained the tip of Charon's Guidance blade. "Especially because of their abilities that cause drowsiness. Therefore, it is necessary to overwhelm them as soon as possible. Well, easier said than done given their resistance to magic."

"I remember that such a race lives near the city-state alliance," Cedran recalled, offering a cloth to Antilene so she could clean her weapon. "We faced some of them years ago. But they were much smaller. A child could compete with them in height. Whereas these towered over an adult."

"The ecosystem of this forest pushes for competition," Saturno had pulled out a notebook, on which he had sketched a rough representation of the chasmes and inserted a few detailed notes about the creature "Mutations of other species that we are used to considering harmless might be hiding in this foliage. Let's be careful!"

"How do you know about all these things, Lady Zesshi? I thought you had never left the capital in all these years." Edgar's question, simple in its naivete, was like a dart shot toward the heart of the half-elf.

"Yes, it's been decades since I left Silksuntecks," the weirdness of the situation left Antilene, who still struggled to adjust to that lack of human settlement, strangled. "But I never stopped keeping myself informed about the various dangers of the outside world. It's a habit I've cultivated since childhood."

"As was to be expected from the disciple of the guardian deity," Cassandra puffed out her chest with pride as she tenderly caressed a small scale-covered creature poking out of her purse. "And from the daughter of the legendary Faine. I dare not imagine what it was like to study under the patronage of such memorable personalities."

"... It's been interesting," she couldn't find anything else to say. "I remember once, when I was still a little girl, my mother brought me a drawing. It depicted a centaur."

To call that jumble of lines a centaur was far too generous. But back then, that depiction had represented all the fascination and mystery of a world that was precluded. "I asked her what it was. The answer was 'an enemy.' My mother spent the rest of the morning explaining to me all the weaknesses of that demi-human and the strategies to be adopted to fight it at its best. At the end of the day, she let me keep the drawing. I preserved it as a priceless heirloom for years."

"I would have liked to meet Lady Faine. Or Lord Tolstove. Or the Perdio twins. Such valiant heroes, you don't see every day."

"I bet there are too many to count good memories of your mother that you carry in your heart."

"...Yeah."

'But why do sweet memories hurt more than painful ones?'

Antilene did not blame her companions.

Her story was a secret.

And so was her relationship with Faine.

Something that had to remain hidden, out of sight.

This was their relationship story.

If it had never been narrated, the world would not have missed any of it.

No, it would have been better if it had stayed buried.

Lost.

Forever.

The rest of the day continued without any noteworthy events.

A monster coming too close, a pause to regain strength, and off again, heading back on the road.

After many hours, when the sun was heading to violate another night, and the stars were beginning to shyly come out of their palaces in the sky, it came time to stop.

The Black Scriptures were ready to call it a day.

Except…

"Did you hear that noise?" Before he had time to catch his breath, Edgar twirled his enchanted chain toward a bush meters away from him. "Nothing. Maybe I imagined it?"

"No," Cassandra corrected her companion, pointing her finger in the opposite direction from where Divine Chain had aimed his attack. "They are there. I see them."

"An ambush?" Following his companion's indications, Saturno drew the rapier he wielded. With a leap, he disappeared into the bush, to return soon after dragging an elf by his long ears.

The prey seemed shaken, its muscles twitching as if in spasms, and its head made an erratic waving motion as its pupils were on the verge of popping out.

"There are more!" Cassandra shrieked. "Two at thirty-five meters southwest, three at forty meters northeast, and one..."

"Beware!"

An arrow aimed at the head of One Thousand League Astrologer was deflected with mechanical precision by Cedran and his shields.

Unexpectedly, a few centimeters from the surface of the shield, the arrow turned direction, returning from where it had started. A gasp of pain ensued.

"And one behind you."

"I noticed, Edgar."

"In any case, you said southwest, right?"

Divine Chain did not wait for an answer before aiming his trusty weapon at the ground.

As if endowed with a life of its own, the chain darted through the ground until it reached the attacking elves.

"From underneath?"

Assuming the shape of a snake, Edgar's weapon twisted around the legs of the two, knocking them to the ground.

"Perfect, only three more to go..."

But Antilene, in all this? When Cassandra had declared the position of the elves, the half-elf had already set off with an impetus that shook the earth.

Taking advantage of the surprise of her enemies, who had not expected to be discovered so fast, she stunned two of them with a side kick, to deliver the coup de grace to the third with a caress to the cheek.

"I correct myself." Rectified the tattooed man. "Now that we have caught these long ears, what shall we do with them?"

"Nothing," Antilene said, impassible. "We let them go."

The Black Scriptures looked at each other incredulously. No one, however, dared to contradict the extra seat.

Even the elves took a few seconds before they realized what was happening.

"Why don't you even question us?" One of them asked, still surprised.

"It would be useless. You are just a decoy, aren't you? Then let us take the bait!"

"Are you sure, Lady Zesshi?" Elena kept her composure. But the same could not be said of their companions.

"Of course. Come on, go," ordered the half-elf to the others. "Rest assured that we will follow you."

The elves did not seem very convinced, but realized there was no alternative. They then began to move among the trees, keeping their distance.

"Stand still. It's not time yet."

Antilene had now taken command of the group, and no one thought the least of contradicting her directives.

"Cassandra. Use a spell to see where they are headed."

"Right away, Lady Zesshi!"

The bespectacled girl concentrated for a moment that seemed eternal. "I see them," she exclaimed. "A few meters from here. There is a kind of open space surrounded by giant trees. There are so many of them. Not just elves. Even magical beasts," she swallowed saliva that was beginning to block her throat. "Many of them are gigantic. Is that a dragon?"

"The...The lords of the forest," Aradia clutched the magic orb she always carried tightly as her puny body disappeared under the giant hat she wore. "Then it was true that the Elf King had tamed them."

"Do you also see my father among them?" Antilene did not seem at all frightened by that latest news. She had accepted them with supernatural ease.

"No. At least I don't think he is among them. None of the elves seem out of the ordinary."

"Perfect," Charon's Guidance began to lead the way. "Let's go."

"Are you sure you want to jump into the fray like that?"

"Don't worry. I have a plan. My father was kind enough to prepare a playground just for me. What kind of daughter would I be if I didn't have fun without qualms?" A sincere, evil-free smile appeared on the half-elf's face. It recalled the half-moon shining high in the sky. "I have spent the last century sharpening my sword. It's time for the elf king to taste its tip."