Chapter 786 – Everything In Nothing

To be Divine is to stand alone. There is no simpler way to put it. Reverence in itself demands solitude. This, written down, is not a call to action against the notion of reverence in itself, or one against Divinity for that matter. It simply is a real description of a phenomena, to be a God is to stand at the top of a mountain most people will never even begin to scale. Where every rock is more difficult than the previous one.

It has been seen and tried and tested throughout the past, when Divines would leave society and confine themselves to be nothing more than wanderers or hermits. And eventually, they are always called upon. A thousand years? We do not have ten thousand years of recorded history but if we did, then the figure could be that much, it matters little. A Divine, when integrated into the world, will receive seclusion as the price of the reverence that we naturally inspire.

Thus, to bind oneself to another is the greatest risk. The idea of a permanent Divine household has been floated around for centuries, ever since the end of Worldbreaking and the fact of the matter is that too much can go wrong with it. We are not creatures incapable of love, in fact, most of us are far more capable of it than we’d like to admit. Humans may call love permanent, but humans live a century at the most. The elves demonstrate the fear of binding oneself to another, and they are able to produce offspring.

For no matter what rationalisations we wish to give, or how we rally against the organisation or logistics of the system, we all know the real reason: love is a risk for eternity, for we can fall into eternal love, and then someone may die, and that weight is carried on for eternity. That fear, ultimately, is the deciding factor. And that fear has no counterargument nor respite to it. It is as true as the fact that Divinity naturally breeds reverence.

And ultimately, one of us needs to be brave enough to take the step into the unknown.

And I sit here, and I ponder this, and the same questions keep reappearing in my mind.

Where, if not here?

When, if not now?

Who, if not me?

- Private Writings from God Arascus, of Pride, written midway during the Age of Reconstruction, before the founding of the Empire.

Kavaa sat with Kassandora in a semi-hopeless state of both bliss and exhilaration. Kassie needed the help and the motivation, and Kavaa was more than happy to provide her friend with it, and the whole system was working smoother for it. Everyday, they would return back to their room, shared of course, and they would drink and sit together and blush terribly whenever someone’s foot brushed past another someone else’s foot, or they would pretend not to feel the fact that they adjacent at the thigh, and Kass would pour wine, and they would share a blanket, and they would pretend not to look at each other even both of them had come out of the shower. Taking turns of course, Kavaa was read to wash Kassandora, and she was certain that the reverse was true too, but there was…

It was the sheer domesticity of this bliss. Once they took the next step, it would be difficult to return here and they had an eternity to fill out with new experiences. There was no reason to take things fast. Kassandora was heavy, far heavier than Kavaa, but she was ever so gentle. Almost too gentle in fact, but Kavaa wouldn’t push her. Being cared about was a bliss in itself.

No doubt Helenna would call it terrible and say it was two amateurs at work, but Kavaa did not care in the slightest. Kassandora was resting her head on Kavaa’s shoulder, idly drawing a circle with her finger on the blanket and murmuring calculations. Her mind was elsewhere and it was fine. Kavaa leaned her head on Kassandora’s and Health’s grey hair kissed War’s Crimson. It was bliss, it was bliss. It was their daily ritual of winding down from the job. “Elassa is submitting her proposal, did you know?”

“I did not.” Kavaa said. At this point, she shamelessly relied on Kassandora updating her with the news. If Of War didn’t think it was important enough to talk about, then it wasn’t important for Kavaa to think either. “What about it?”

“It’s actually going to be a million men.” Kassandora said with a yawn. “That’s landed on my plate today. Father told me.”

“That sounds low.” Kavaa whispered back as she reached for the television and turned it on. And they had gotten to watching movies too. Movies and serials and everything else that played on the television. They even had drinking games with historical documentaries, things that were wrong, or that Kassandora and Kavaa could remember differently, they would take a shot for.

“Of course.” Kassandora whispered back in mock annoyance. “Only a million man ritual, that’s practically child’s play, isn’t it sweetie?” That sweetie was filled with so bile that it could only be endearment.

“It is for you.” Kavaa said and put on the show they had started yesterday. It was about medicine in the military, primarily apothecaries treating knights. Something for both of them to enjoy. “Only what? Doubling the Imperial Military?”

“Adding a new sixth.” Kassandora said.

“Even easier then.” Kavaa replied and Kassandora sighed.

“Yeah, even easier, only making a linear hierarchy for a million new troops.”

“Is it impossible?”

“It’ll be done by the end of the week.” Kassandora said and shook her head. She lowered her voice and brought out her phone. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing it.”

“I can.” Kavaa replied. Of course she could, the Empire was about doing the impossible and this was the most impossible job ever. And it was solved in the most Imperial solution that could exist. Once they hit the scaling limit, the issue wasn’t efficiency, it was about finding the next thing to scale. A thoroughly Ardan, thoroughly Imperial solution. “I think it’s an amazing way.”

“Not smart, not refined, not difficult to conceive of, terribly simple.” Kassandora listed off her points as the television came on. This was going to be the Doschian parts, with herbalists and old witches and how they worked their salves. Kavaa knew about, she had helped brew those salves, but still, it was entertaining to see how the Empire presented an art that was more forestry and hiking than actual mixing. “So yes, I do actually like it.”

“I knew you would.” Kavaa said. “Move your head slightly.”

“Up or down.”

“So my chin isn’t resting on you.” Kassandora shifted without commenting on it. Kavaa smiled as the television played away. This was true bliss. She greatly enjoyed it. The show played, an episode finished. They should have brought snacks frankly. Tomorrow, Kavaa would remember to.

“You don’t have to sit with me here.” Kassandora said quietly. “You know that right?”

“But I want to.” Kavaa said. “And you smell good.”

“I just smell of your shampoo.” Kassandora whispered.

“That’s why you smell good.” Kavaa said and Kassandora sighed.

“You’re impossible.” That was a compliment if Kavaa had ever heard one. Perfect. “No, it is good.” Kassandora sighed, her hands curled into fists and then relaxed again. “I’m glad you like sitting here.” Kavaa didn’t say anything, Kassie was starting again, she would sometimes go on these slow speeches whenever they were together and when she was stressed. “It’s…” Kassandora said. “Mmh… it is. There’s a reason I have to do this.”

And Kavaa knew when she had to lead the conversation so that Kassandora could allow herself to continue. “Reason?”

“I need to give my own men breaks.” Kassandora said. “It was easier back then but now, I can ring up everyone at anytime.” Of War trailed off again and hid her hands underneath the blanket. “So they always have me looming over them. I mean, I know, so I don’t do it. But I can do it.”

“And that’s the problem.” Kavaa said.

“When…” Kassandora began, she pulled the blanket up to her chin. “I cried last time, when we were defending Ainai. I just had nothing to do. I could do everything Kav, and I had to do nothing because everything that I could have done was done already. Do you know what that is like?”

Kavaa had to think about her answer. She put her hand on Kassandora’s head, her mind wandering to situations that could be similar. Would it be like seeing someone dying on the hospital bed? But then what disease could she not do anything in? A man could lose his heart and limbs, he could be burned and scorched, drowned or suffering from disease and Kavaa’s hand would still be able to heal him. Her power had an upper level, but she would never reach it when healing just humans.

Maybe with a curse? But even when a curse lay on someone, then a limb could be amputated. And a sickness of the soul, truly unhealable, could be ended to ended suffering. Kavaa pursed her lips. “No.” She said. “I don’t know what that is like.”

“Don’t worry.” Kassandora said. “I’m glad you didn’t lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I…” Kassandora trailed off.

“Have and probably will again lie to me.” Kavaa said.

“It’s never for a bad reason though.”

“I know.” Kavaa said. “That’s why I put up with it.”

“But it is…” Kassandora trailed off. “Put the next episode on.” Kavaa did put the next episode on, although she doubted whether there would be much watching it right now. “I’m just… no, it is good. Sorry for acting like this.” Kavaa felt something wet touch her shoulder, at this point, the blanket was just because they would squeak out of their modesty. Kassandora was crying again. Kavaa didn’t comment on it, that would only make Of War shut the tears back in. “But…”

“Do you want me to say it?” Kavaa said.

“Please.”

“You’re glad you don’t have to sit alone and brew with your own thoughts.” Kavaa said and Kassandora sighed.

“Partly.” Kassandora said. “Really I just… sorry… please don’t be mad at me. I…” And again, she trailed off. Kavaa took Kassandora’s wrist underneath the blanket and held onto it tight.

“I’m here and just say it.” Kavaa said. “I know you want to, and it’s probably going to be terrible, but I’ll hear it.”

“I…” Kassandora took a deep breath. “I’m pathetic.” She said, utterly defeated. “I can’t say it.” Kavaa squeezed the wrist and let the silence go on. Now wasn’t the time to interrupt. The show played on, the next episode was about old temples, some of them Kavaa’s, some of them Allasaria’s, and the structure of how they operated. How that related to the modern world and what was left over. Kavaa sat still when she saw one of her own shrines in a modern hospital. She preferred not to be reminded about the fact people set them up. Kassandora seemingly decided to end her own mental torture and spoke up suddenly, dry and fast as if she was wanting to simply have the words be said. “I’m sorry for needing a reason to get away from my job for you, and I’m sorry that I don’t know how to say that.”

Kavaa had expected as much. It wasn’t a revelation in the slightest. “I don’t mind.” Kavaa squeezed Kassandora’s wrist as the television flashed different colours. Outside their shared hotel room, the city was beginning to wake up. Cities never really slept, but the cars were getting more common. Workers getting in early for their shift, driving in between massive skyscrapers. “I know anyway.” She went back to lean on top of Kassandora, who was leaning on her. “I think it’s great in fact.”

“What…” Kassandora said. “What is great about it? That I don’t know how to make time for you?”

“That you’re trying.” Kavaa said. “Look at Helenna and Malam, she just drinks all the time, doesn’t she? You think Helenna enjoys that.”

“Malam’s funnier than I am.” Kassandora said quietly. “And Helenna knew what she was getting into, there’s no pretending with Malam.”

“Helenna gets the full picture immediately.” Kavaa said. “Whereas I prefer going layer by layer. Don’t worry.” And as much as Kassandora beat herself up over it, it didn’t matter. She was still trying. And she was trying hard, once a week, there would be one of these sessions and that was the bare minimum. And they were worse at the start, whereas now Kassandora was actually speaking. Back then, she would just sulk in her own thoughts.

“You’re too good for me.” Kassandora said. “No one else would put up with this.”

“How many people would put up with me?” Kavaa asked. “I’m not pleasant at all.”

“I’m less pleasant than you are.”

“But you’re polite.” Kavaa said. “And you know how to get people to do things. What do you think I do? I just say what needs to be done and tell others to stay out of my way.” That was true. Kavaa knew she did not take advice on healing and frankly, she didn’t want any. She could heal at a touch and if she managed to figure out how to make her healing painless, then that would take away the motivation for not getting hurt again. Partly at least. No doubt someone else would be able to pick holes in that reasoning but they could not heal at a touch, could they?

“You don’t really though.” Kassandora said.

“When something isn’t my demesne, what exactly can I say? I’m not interested in politics, I have my opinions on art and comfort, I don’t need to be told how to act. I don’t care for gossip or anything like that.” Kavaa said quietly. “That’s the story of the Pantheon basically, what can I tell you? You know it anyway, I’ve told you about it. I don’t play these petty games.”

“But you play them with me.” Kassandora said.

“But what we’re doing isn’t a game.” Kavaa said, did she need to build the woman up? How did Fer do it? Kavaa did not know, she should have asked last time Fer was about, before that lot had been reassigned to the Aris Expedition. “Do you know what the difference between you and someone else is? Whether you’re fighting or commanding an army or crying next to me?”

“What?”

“You’re sincere about it.” Kavaa squeezed Kassandora’s wrist. “And when you’re like this, you’re sincere. I don’t question anything you tell me because I don’t have to, because I know you say it, and even if your reasoning you think is unacceptable to me so you make up something palatable, it’s fine.” Kavaa said. “It’s fine because I know you’re going to be sincere and I don’t have to question you.”

Kassandora sat there in silence as she cried. Kavaa felt the heat off the woman’s body as Kassandora cheek twisted into a motion that Kavaa now recognised as an attempt of a smile. And then as she sat then she let out a horrendous pained laughter. And more tears. And more bout of agonal laughter. Kavaa took a deep breath and let the woman sit there. “Thank you.”

“I’m here for you.” Maybe not like Arascus or Fer, but Kavaa had long since given up on trying to have that style of relationship with Kassie. It was impossible for one, physically, the woman was stronger than her. And for two, that pair managed to just generate a sense of respect that Kavaa never could. Arascus was grand and imposing and he always knew what to say, and Fer was funny and sharp and she always knew what to say. It was a father and a big sister. And neither of them got to sit underneath a blanket with Kassie and watch television. “Should I put the next episode on?”

“Please.”