The Greatest Sin

“Seer-Central, testing, testing. Comms Check, over”

“Raptor-One, confirmed, comms work, over.”

“Raptor-Two, confirmed, over.”

“Pelican, confirmed, cargo loaded, over.”

“Seer-Central, Atny has given the green light. Luck is in the air. I repeat, Luck is in the air.”

Helenna stood and watched in silence. Helenna stood as she watched Allasaria declare Elassa as being temporary leader of the White Pantheon. Helenna stood as she watched Allasaria prepare her team of thirty-five inventions. Helenna stood as Sceo pushed the clouds away from Olympiada. Helenna stood and watched as a few Divines gave their goodbyes and good luck to Allasaria and to Leona. Helenna stood and watched as Allasaria proudly marched with Leona in tow.

Helenna stood as she watched the thirty-seven Divines enter their white and gold planes. Simple oversized jets, the sort that fabulously wealthy mortals would use. Helenna stood and watched the speakers came on. “You are given permission to take off. Good luck and safe travels.”

Helenna stood and watched as mortals guided the planes towards the runway of Olympiada’s skyport. Helenna stood as one plane turned its jets on. Helenna stood as her red dress was whipped by the blast of air. Helenna stood and watched as the first plane took off, it accelerated from a complete stop to liftoff on the runway, and glided off the mountain before gaining altitude. The second followed, then the third, the fourth and fifth. They waited for the whole team before assembling into a V-formation, making a sharp bank and flying south, towards the midday-sun.

Helenna stood and watched the five planes grow smaller as they flew further, from the massive pieces of the world’s finest engineering to the size of birds, then dots, and finally they disappeared behind hills in the horizon. Helenna stood and watched the sky. The mountain was silent, it was always silent, Helenna hated the silence. It wasn’t fit to be a place that was the seat of the Gods, it was a dysfunctional household, with each family member locked away in their own quarters and only coming out for the odd meeting. Helenna stood and watched the slowly travel across the clear blue sky. It wasn’t even the magnificent deep blue that proclaimed dominance over the world, it was a pale pastel that retreated and only made the Sun into a giant blinding flashlight.

Helenna stood and watched, and finally made her mind up. Today, the White Pantheon would be shaken, the world change, and her name would be engraved everlasting into the annals of history. This would be the single greatest event of the millennia, greater than the God-killer, it would rival Arascus’ Great War.

Today would be remembered as the day the Pantheon fell.

Helenna turned and left the skyport. Through the silent corridors, past the maids, half of them she knew by name, all of them served as her eyes and ears in this mountain. Past Allasaria’s Seeker proudly standing in formation as Elassa gave them a speech: “The Paladins have built a fortress, the Guardians sharpen their spears, the Clerics are at our gates. We will no-“ Helenna left, she had no wishes to listen to a woman who could not even handle a modicum of conversation, glory should be left to those who did not lose all of their humanity in some vain pursuit for magical knowledge. The best Elassa could hope for is ever-being a court scholar and a jester-witch, anything more would be an embarrassment for the whole court.

Helenna walked to her own quarter. A grand palace, colourful, with carpets and paintings of landscapes and noble heroes and herself. With wallpaper on the walls and a complete lack of magical lamps. Tall windows, wine in every cabinet, chocolate in every other. A place she tried to make homely, although it was difficult to bring home to a job site. She walked through the corridors, where easy-going maids and butlers were smiling and chatting as they worked and finally entered her private room.

All wooden furniture, the carpets all crimson red, the wallpapers patterned with roses. A fireplace that was growing cold, three empty bottles on the table before it. Kavaa and Iniri were already there. Of Health in the battle-armour that had served in the Great War, simple plate with a green cloak emblazoned with a blue cross, a mark for clerics and healers. A blade that would have been called a greatsword by mortals although by Divine standards, it was merely a simple duelling blade hung on her waist. Her round shield was already fixed to her forearm, her helmet was donned and pair of pale eyes stared out through slits. Iniri was much the same, but in a wardress, it was appropriate for her station as the Goddess of Food & Bounty. It befit the titles she had abandoned when the Great War ended and the new age of Peace began. A green cloak that hung to her feet covered in enchantments and magical enchantments, reinforced with strands of living wood that curled and twisted with every movement.

 “Allasaria has left. She has taken Leona and thirty-five inventions. Three hours ago, they won’t turn back now.” Helenna skipped the pleasantries, the expressions on her friends’ face said they wouldn’t appreciate them anyway. “It is time.”

Kavaa took a deep breath and stood up from the purple armchair. “So it is.” She said. “How long?”

“Three hours as was decided.” Kavaa responded with one nod. Her eyes cold, grey and emotionless, she made the same eyes when she healed people.

“I will get changed.” Helenna took off her dress and opened her wardrobe. There was going to be battle, there was no doubt about that. The two Goddesses watched her pull out ancient armour that had been locked away and used only whenever Allasaria decided to make a mascot out of them in parades. A gold breastplate, a chainmail skirt. A belt with daggers strapped to it, tall bronze boots to her knees, each with a blade in the foot. Gauntlets with more blades hidden within, another pair of daggers strapped to her thighs underneath her skirt. A red cape for throwing and distraction, it could be detached with a mere click of a shoulder button. No helmet, Helenna had never liked covering her face.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was pitch black today. It fit the mood. “Iniri, you will guard the prison entrance. Kavaa, you clear a path. I will free Kassandora.” She saw the reflections of the other two nod. Kavaa turned to leave and stopped at the door.

“Good luck.” She said to the two Divines behind her.

“We are led by the Spirit of War, the World’s Greatest Strategist. Luck will not be a factor.” Helenna said it more for herself than for Kavaa. Of Health only replied with a silent nod of affirmation.

Kavaa shut the door and left the two inside. Helenna looked at the clock, they would set off in two hours, thirty minutes. She knew already Iniri was in no mood for chit chat.

It would be a long and silent wait.

Helenna stood, and Helenna waited.

“Raptor Nest, Raptor Nest, this is central Arika reporting. Luck is above us. I repeat, Luck is above us.”

Kavaa watched her Clerics assembled. Almost twelve thousand men, hardened by the trials of Arika where they ventured into jungles to kill beasts as much as they healed the sick of disease and wounds. Twelve thousand men. Kavaa wondered how many of them would die today. Was it waste?

It could be a waste, she was exchanging their lives for her own freedom. But they had sworn to fight and die for her. They knew what they were signing up for. The Clerical Orders were not Guardians or Seekers or Paladins who lured in with promises of gold and glory. To take Kavaa’s vow, to become a full-fledged Cleric, one had to be willing to enter lands of epidemics, to withstand the sight of diseases which ate flesh and rotted organs, to comfort the families of those who could not be saved, to be willing to give one’s life when the cause called for it. To be ready for a death agonizing and fall to the very illnesses they were trying to cure.

When the situation called for it, Kavaa’s vow said to kill and ease suffering.

The Clerical Orders were looked down upon, spat upon, belittled as mere battlefield doctors. In an age of Peace, they had lost even that, now they were mere idealists fighting a fruitless war against ever changing diseases. Twelve thousand men, in the plate armours of their respective orders. Some with swords, with hammers, some with spears, some with shields and some without, some with spiked clubs. They looked at their Goddess with cold gazes, the sort that was appropriate for a surgical amputation. No. They were men who had seen the true horrors the world had to offer. Not beasts or dragons or bandits, but the tears of family, the expressions of those who lost limbs in their sleep. They had heard men dying of torturing illnesses when medicines ran out, they were there for when men begged to be rid of illness and they were there for when men begged to be rid of pain. And they still came back for more.

They deserved a speech. Just as a doctor would rally the trainees out of panic, she should rally them. They were her men. This was her army. They lived for her. They died for her. They would die for her. She remembered Kassandora’s reaction to when she asked what sort of speech it should be. “They’re your men, who am I to take them from you?” It was exactly the sort of words Kassandora would say, it treated her equally as a Divine. It was the exactly the sort of words Allasaria had never said. Kavaa opened her mouth as the Sun fell and clouds returned to Olympiada. The shadow of the mountain fell upon them.

“Clerics!” She spoke. She had never been one for speeches. Helenna was much better at swaying hearts. Iniri had a way of being homely. Kavaa knew she was too cold, she usually had to feign emotion in the White Pantheon, the horrors of healing had dulled her in that regard. But these men had gone through everything she had, heard and seen everything she had. “Healers!” She shouted again. That fit more. Heads turned and the crowd fell silent. Even the helicopters in the back slowed their rotors and settled down. Kavaa continued.

“We serve the ailing diseased and the feeble wounded! We serve the afflicted, the rotting, the tainted and the defiled! We serve the sick! We have not, do not, and will never serve a Pantheon! We work with the Pantheon but we are not part of the Pantheon! Who the Divine Mountain forgets, we remember! Where the Divine Mountain looks away, we are there! We have been there in Arika fighting alone! No support came from Allasaria and her glorious Seekers! No help from the mages of Elassa! A continent broiling in war, left alone by the Goddess of Peace, a continent ever on the brink of Chaos which Maisara turns her nose up at.” Kavaa took a breath as she looked at her Clerics. Every single one stared at her with bated breath.

“Is that the Pantheon you wish to work with?” She spread her arms out and the Clerics answered.

“NO!”

“Is that the Pantheon you were promised?”

“NO!”

“Is that the Pantheon you wish to die for?”

“NO!” Kavaa pulled out her sword and held it forwards. It glittered remorselessly in the sun.

“We serve as doctors, we kill disease where we see it! Today, the Pantheon is our patient! Today, the Pantheon is sick!” She got a chorus of cheers, of spear butts hitting the ground and of weapons clashing against shield. Kavaa finally spoke again when the cheering left the air. “We heal where we can, we give the ultimate reprieve where we cannot. But we are one Order! We are a doctor devoid of tools!” Her arm twisted and she raised the sword to the sky. “Just as a vaccine is an illness made to fight a disease, today, we our acquire vaccine.” Kavaa held her breath. This was it. The words just said could be explained. Taken back. Allasaria would not kill her for a mere speech. The next sentence was the jump off the cliff.

“Today, our vaccination is the Divine Kassandora! Goddess of War!” Kavaa turned, her blade aimed at Olympiada. She could not look at the faces of her men and her expression broke, her lips quivered, she closed her eyes and listened to the silence.

It lasted for a mere moment.

Twelve thousand Clerics cheered.