The Greatest Sin

Olephia walked along her path. She walked and walked and walked. Past the castle again, then through the forest, then through the desert, then the ravine. She knew this land well, she had walked through an uncountable number of times already. It never changed.

Then came the fields of sheep. They looked so soft and fluffy. Olephia wanted to hug them, to pick one up and roll around with it in her arms, but she passed them by still. The land changed to the lakes with the mountain backdrops. She had never been up those mountains, although she always wanted to. The path never led to the summits, it would always stay near the crystal-clear water. Why did she not step into the water? Olephia took another step.

Her feet hurt. She wanted to sit down. Why did she not step off the path? She did not know. She simply kept walking. Next time, she would go and hug one of the sheep. That would be fine, wouldn’t it? Just a quick hug and a rest.

- Olephia’s Divine Dream, Present Day, Present Time.

Kassandora woke up in some bed. She scanned the room here. It was a tent. A large tent, rugged, with signs of holes that had been stitched together. The air here was hot and humid, she wasn’t in Epa then. Of War closed her eyes and remembered the battle, the sun above her, the heat and healing that had brought her to the precipice of madness. She touched her face, her skin was smooth. Healed then, Kavaa must have done it.

Kassandora sighed and sat up. The tent was empty apart from her bed in the corner. She reached out her hand and Joyeuse appeared in mid-air. It crashed into the bare ground and buried itself half way in the dirt. Well she wasn’t dead then, and this wasn’t a dream either. In dreams, the blade was always lighter than in reality. She ran her hands over her body, someone had taken her clothes off. Kavaa most likely. There was clothes prepared on the ground for her. A simple white shirt, the stitching was well done but the material left a lot to hope for. A skirt below it, a simple thing with a string to tighten it to stop it from falling down. Sandals were provided too, simple things, a bed of wood lined with leather and some straps nailed onto it.

Kassandora dressed herself quickly as she watched the sliver of light coming from the opening of the tent. No one came in. Whoever had made the clothes obviously made them quickly but they could at least have given her underwear. Of War had never thought of herself as modest, but she wasn’t like Fer who could flourish in nakedness. Measurements had obviously not been done either, the shirt would have been too large for Arascus, on her, it hung like a skirt for the skirt. Kassandora thought of donning her armour instead, but it was hot and the metal would heat up. In the Great War, she had always worn thin clothes underneath to stop the various sharp edges from nibbling her.

Eventually, Kassandora simply decided not to worry about it. She was sure this wasn’t a prison and from outside, she could hear men shout, laugh, sing, argue and give orders. The sounds had all the hallmarks of being a military camp. She stepped out of the tent and into the sun light.

The humidity of the tent was exchanged for an increase in temperature. The light breeze did little to fight against the red Sun overhead. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, the ground was red, tents spread out to block all view although beyond them, to the North, a cliff-face of jungle trees suddenly cropped up. Banners of Kavaa’s various Orders were hung up above them, men walked around in beige shorts and loose unbuttoned shirts, they sat around on foldable stools, some were carrying logs in teams, others were sharpening blades, an armoury was about were armour was being fashioned. Kassandora felt the wind brush her red hair and looked to the men who were stood by her tent. Scarred and once again in loose clothes, but one with a halberd and the other a spear. They turned and bowed when Kassandora stepped out. “How long have I been out?”

“Two days.” The man carrying a halberd responded. His accent was thick, stretching out the vowels in each word. Eastern Epan dialect.

“And we are where?” Kassandora asked.

“Central Arika, in Kirinyaa.” Kassandora folded her arms. Arika was a continent and Kirinyaa was a country that did not exist a millennia ago.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Divine Kassandora, Goddess of War.”

“And do you know when the last time I stepped in Arika was?” The Cleric seemed to realise what Kassandora was insinuating.

“Would you like a map?”

Kassandora lowered her tone. “I would. And where is Kavaa and the rest?”

“Goddess Kavaa is organising the rest of the Orders to retreat from Epa. Goddesses Helenna and Iniri are currently aiding the nearby villages.” The man said smoothly as he pulled out a small notebook from his pockets. He handed a pamphlet to Kassandora: All the Sights to See in Kirinyaa! Of War did not comment on the fact it was a tourist pamphlet, she had gotten information from worse before and besides, a map was on the first page. Kirinyaa was in Eastern Arika, far from Epa. It had a number of lines to famous airports, eight hours away from Aris, six from Atny. Good enough. So they were safe then.

“Another one is coming in!” The man with the spear said and pointed to the distance. A large plane painted white and bearing Kavaa’s blue cross on its wings made a quick landed as it dropped from the air in a cloud of dust. Kassandora heard commotion as vehicles turned on and men rushed about. Above them, two more planes were circling, presumably waiting for permission to land.

“So what are you doing here?” Kassandora asked.

“We volunteered to guard your tent.” Halberd-man responded.

Kassandora raised an eyebrow. “No introductions then?”

The man blushed and struck a pristine posture, his back as straight as the weapon in his hand. “Damian Sokolowski.”

The other’s was just as clean. “Piotr Zalewski.”

That only made Kassandora more intrigued. “No title or Order?” She asked and the two men looked away.

“It would be better for you to discuss with Goddess Kavaa first about the situation.” Kassandora hated answers like that, but it was obvious the men felt silly about something rather than trying to hide information from her. “We…” Damian continued. “Well… It’s an unprecedented situation.”

Kassandora shook her head as she tried to Kavaa. The woman was always a stealthy one, she wasn’t healing now and the camp was filled with Clerical energies. If these two had volunteered to be her guards, then she should make use of them. “Take me to Kavaa, take a long way around your camp.” They were beginning to attract a crowd. Men were coming to look at her, some knelt, some inclined their heads. There wasn’t a single look of disrespect among them. Kassandora had expected a far worse greeting considering her history.

Damian took the lead. “At once Divine. At once!” He led Kassandora through the camp with Piotr besides him. It was a camp of Kavaa indeed, for every line of tents to house troops, there was another line to house the wounded and sick, for every storeroom of arms, two existed that supposedly should be filled with medicines, although supplies were dwindling.

Kassandora came to a stop near the edge of the camp, where organized ranks stopped and tall triangular tents started to sprout from the red ground instead. Dark men walked around much like in Kavaa’s camp. They sang and argued and drank and a few gave orders. “Those are tribespeople.” Damian began his explanation. “They bring their wounded to us and guide us in the jungles. Sometimes we fight alongside each other.”

“They guide you?”

“We have steel, they have knowledge.” Damian shrugged. “We keep to ourselves though. Kavaa does not want to enter Kirinyaan politics. Sometimes her camps serve as negotiation spaces over disputes.”

“What disputes?”

“Land and water mainly.” Damian kicked the dirt, a little cloud of red dust floated away from his impact. “There’s arable land further east near the coast but here, little grows. Rivers are rare too, streams change year on year.”

“You venture into jungles?”

“With them.” Damian waved to the men and a few waved back, he continued the tour. “The jungles take people, we take them back, try to at least.” Kassandora followed along as she looked North. She remembered to a time a long past, before even the Great War. When the lands of Epa were still unclaimed, even then, the forests were thick and brutal, but here, the jungle was a wall. Forests started out thin and grew thicker, here, it was red ground, red ground, red ground and suddenly thick green. Bark wasn’t even visible, every tree wore a suit of vines.

And as Kassandora looked into the forest, she felt something look back at her. “How often?” Kassandora asked as they started to head into the camp.

“People disappear all the time. Entire villages sometimes, we venture in about once every two weeks.” Damian replied. “That is Kavaa’s tent.” It was larger than most of the tents, but it wasn’t any different than the storerooms. Poles had been hammered into the ground and then thick cloth had been put to make walls and a ceiling. “We’ll wait outside Divine.” Damian bowed as Kassandora stepped in.

There was a short corridor of thick cloth, Kavaa would most likely have her own quarters here. Something in Kassandora was impressed. She had always hated the magnanimity of palaces. Men walked on dirt, so dirt was good enough, there was no need try and hide it with fancy flooring. Kavaa was sat on a large chair around a table, several Cleric-Captains were one, with the dark men of Arika on the other. They were pouring over a map as one of the Arikans drew his finger in a line. “From here to here, this…” He looked up at Kassandora and fell silent. Then at Kavaa, the Goddess of Health smiled and waved for her to come closer.

“You’re awake early.”

“I am.” Kassandora said. “Sokolowski has shown me around.” She looked to the Cleric Captains, not a single here had his shirt buttoned up, Kavaa herself was wearing a pale white short-sleeved shirt, the Arikans were shirtless. Everyone but the Goddess had some sort of visible scar on them, one Cleric had a scar along his head, one of the Arikans was missing half an ear.

“This.” Kavaa looked to the Arikans and extended an arm to Of War. “Is Kassandora, the one I was talking about.” Kassandora narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t agree to anything yet.”

Kavaa answered immediately. “I didn’t expect gladiators to talk back.” Kassandora rolled her eyes and stepped forwards to the map as the mortals looked over her. A few Clerics inclined their heads with respect, a few Arikans did too. Most did not.

“So what is this?” The map was one of the region they were in, the jungle in the north and the mountains in the distance confirmed as much. Their location was marked with a dot, various villages were scattered about.

“The jungle is expanding.” One of the Arikans said, his tone suddenly became apologetic. “I am Waf.” He looked to the man next to him and prodded him with an elbow. They gave their names. Kimani was the tallest of them, with a scar across his chest that that looked as if a claw had made it. Arusei was the one who had half his ear missing. Jebet and Eyapan. They were interesting at least, each one was obviously a warrior of sorts, scars like theirs did not come from mere play. They had their black hair cut short, Jebet had his almost bald, all with brown eyes. The Clerics then took their turn. Donovan, Mittelbach, Liam & Javier. All led their Orders, all Kassandora did not give a second look to, none of them had been at the summit in Olympiada, none of them deserved her attention.

“So Waf? What can I help you?” Kassandora asked.

The man leaned over the table again, the leanness of his chest made exposed every twisting muscle. “These villages have recently disappeared.” He took a heavy breath. “The people will not most likely not be recovered but there’s a pattern.” He drew his finger along the map. “From North, then South, then East, we think it’s new hunting ground for something.”

“You don’t know?” Kassandora asked.

“We don’t.” Waf sighed heavily. “Kavaa said you were a strategist, we want to ask for your help.” Kassandora’s lips smiled and she looked to Kavaa.

“I thought Kavaa already agreed for me.” The Arikans shook their heads and Arusei spoke up. He was the oldest of them, his black hair going grey at the roots.

“That is not the way things are done here. Especially not with Inhumans. We ask, you demand tribute.” Kavaa let out a sigh and shook her head.

“Don’t even think about it Kass.” Kassandora smiled back at her. Demand tribute? Odd, but it was done in Epa a long time ago.

“Are there customs for this? I assume you don’t want me to ridicule you with a piece of string.” Kassandora asked and the Arikans looked to each other. Kavaa leaned back, shook her head and sighed. The Clerics likewise weren’t amused. Not the Arikans though, Eyapan even smiled.

Arusei replied, he seemed to hold the highest rank among them. “Aye, do not humiliate us. We are not here to beg. We are here to trade.”

“Clothes.” Kassandora answered. The Arikans did not like it until Of War’s armour appeared around her body. It crumbled the white shirt and sliced a piece off. “Fine clothes for your sun… and make them fit underneath this.” They looked at each other.

“Do not shame us that we cannot produce clothes.” Kassandora’s armour disappeared.

“I am a Divine. I do not need food. You cannot outmatch my weapons. Magic, you cannot offer as I can’t learn it. I do not want your lives as servants and clothes may not be much for you, but they are for me.” She pulled at the shirt. “As you can see, Kavaa’s men here do not have much skill in them, do they?”

“A thirsty man will trade a kingdom for water.” Arusei replied. Kassandora already had her reply before the man finished.

“A man may build a thousand kingdoms as long as he lives, but he’ll build nothing if he dies of thirst.” That seemed to satisfy the Arikans.

“Clothes it is.” Arusei confirmed the deal with a handshake. For a mortal, he had a surprisingly strong grip.

“Hardy, for combat and for the weather.” Kassandora added. She thought she got the hang of these men. They were prideful, but the pride did not delude them into thinking they were unstoppable. That was good, she could see similarities between them and the men she had chosen to serve as generals in the Great War. “Not gaudy, you asked not to be humiliated so I will do the same. Do not dress me as a princess.”

“We would never think of such a thing Kassandora.” Arusei said. He looked to Kavaa. “You said she would be hard to work with.” Kavaa merely shrugged. “Very well. We will await you tonight in our camp at dusk.”

“Very well.” The four Arikans left, they followed Arusei out like a pack of wolves. The Clerics looked to Kavaa and Kassandora.

“That was the first time I ever saw them leave without an argument.”

Kassandora answered. “They do not want your charity.”

Kavaa spoke up before the Cleric could reply. “Leave, I have something to discuss with Kassandora.” A chorus of Yes Divine answered, and soon it was just two Goddesses in the tent. Kassandora spoke up first.

“You’re in a bad mood today.”

“I’ve been in a bad mood since yesterday.” Kavaa replied from the other side of the table. “Beasts like this come every fifty years.”

“I’m here.” Kassandora replied.

“Yes, you are. So you’ll make yourself useful.”

“I’ll need men.”

“You have them.”

“I meant soldiers I can train, not Arikans on hire.”

“I said you have them.”

“Do I?” Kassandora asked as she leaned down. Now this was news.

“Do you know how many losses I suffered on Olympiada?” Kavaa asked. Kassandora thought for a while. Most wounds in a battle came after the end from wounds and disease. Clerics were immune to that. But then battles like Olympiada had not happened in a long time, maybe Kavaa had grown a heart since the Great War.

“About five hundred.” Kassandora answered. Out of Twelve thousand, that seemed appropriate.

“Three hundred and sixty-one men died up there.” Kavaa replied and clicked her tongue. “I’m annoyed you got close.”

Kassandora smiled and raised her hands defensively. “It is my demesne. What can I say?”

Kavaa shook her head. “And how many Clerics do you think I lost?” Kassandora thought for a moment. Clerics were a tough lot, but marching on the Pantheon would break the toughest hearts.

“Four thousand.”

“Two thousand, four hundred, seventy-nine.” Kavaa said. “One hundred quit outright, do you know what happened to the rest?” Kassandora shook her head.

“They felt you.” Kassandora sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Well I apologize for that but what was I supposed to do?”

“Not your power, yesterday I got a report. There are two hundred three hundred and sixty signatures on it. Do you know what for?” Kassandora smiled. There was only one thing the woman could be hinting at, but to say it would only get her angrier. “TO QUIT AND FOR PERMISSION TO TAKE YOUR VOW! THEY ACTUALLY ASKED FOR MY BLESSING ON THIS!”

“You have good men.” Kassandora replied. “And?” Kavaa rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I let them go naturally. I’m simply angry. Do you know how many casualties I took at the final siege of Rhomaion?” Kassandora did not have time to answer. “Two thousand on the dot. An hour with you is worse for my forces than an eight-month siege Kass.”

Kassandora burst out in laughter and struck a grand pose. She rode her arms down her sides to pull the shirt tight and squeeze it across her chest. “What can I say? I’d fight for me!”

“Don’t even joke about this. I don’t want that power being used again.”

“It’s not the power, it’s the men.” Kassandora said. “If you let me test it out on everyone, then-“

“Then I’d lose forty thousand! Don’t even question me or argue! NO! You won’t steal my Clerics!”

“Your so jealous you sound like Helenna now.” Kassandora leaned over the table making sure it emphasized her assets. “I’m just a poor Goddess you know. You shouldn’t-“

“I’m calling in the rest of the Orders from Epa and the UNN. Kirinyaa is the Cleric’s new headquarters. You are in charge of making sure that when the Pantheon does come here, they’ll be sent home. That is all I wanted to tell you. Now go, you have men waiting outside. They want to swear their vows.” Kassandora turned, then stopped by the cloth door.

“Do the Arikans drink?”

“They brew a spirit called Changaa.” Kavaa shouted back.

“I’ll get you a bottle then.”

“You do that and I’ll shove it up your ass.” Kassandora burst out in laughter as she left the tent. Outside, Damian Sokolowski was already waiting, a crowd of a few hundred men around him, with more coming in to swell it further.

Kassandora stood straight and looked down at him, her mirth dispelled. “You have something to ask to me.” The man nodded and then kneeled.

“Divine Kassandora, Goddess of War. I wish to swear a vow.”

The crowd knelt with him.