The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]
Chapter 312 – A Letter Not From A Friend

“Do you want one?” One of the soldiers passed a cigarette to Lyca as the sorcerer inspected the construction of Port Cassandra: Central Arika Sea Seaport that had been given the colloquial name. The remains of the fleet that had survived the ambush from Alanktydan forces were docked here and Lyca stopped as he watched his team of sorcerers assist with the excavations.

Heavy vehicles got stuck in the thick layer of ash, so Arascus had given the call for ports to be built in the Central Arika Sea, once they were set up, then construction on the main arterial highways and train lines could start.  And it had happened just as Lyca had been settling down with Eliza for a break from the conflict. There were four ports planned, most likely because of the fact that there were four sorcerer teams too.

Lyca watched a sorcerer raise his hands and then pull them back. Behind the man, a huge sheet fabricated entirely out of crimson energies shovelled a ton of ash onto a mound. Another sorcerer repeated the movement. As did another. In an area that had been cleared out, a team of engineers were walking about and stabbing the ground with sticks at various points, planning out the dimensions of the port. In the distance, a transport vessel was coming to dock. The Imperial Logistics Ship ‘Duck’ apparently, it was bringing several hundred tons of concrete and steel to start construction.

“You know what?” Lyca turned to the pair of soldiers, who were squatting next to a campfire and warming their hands. “I’ll take one.”

Arascus swiftly walked through the walled city of Igos. The city was a bunker for the millions of souls within it. The buildings were all made of thick stone, with glass windows and bridges interconnecting the skyscrapers to allow for travel. For the amount of people it had, it managed to make itself dense. The city itself was not much wider than its walls, and Arascus had learned that what was visible on the surface was mirrored underground. The number of tunnels and bunkers under the surface, as well as the subway line easily meant that more people could be housed down there than up here.

The buildings were glamourous too, all steel and glass, with the massive municipal buildings of administration: the Igos Crisis Centre, the University, the police stations and the airport, were fortresses. They were fashioned out of sandstone, and with as many slits for bows as windows for eyes. The Igos Firewall was a ring around the city, extending a mile out into the ocean on either side and capped off with the massive lighthouses that may as well have been man-made mountains built to block the sea.

Yet even though the city was filled with traffic, it was obviously starting to be depopulated. Arascus had arrived at night and less than one in ten of the windows had lights in them. The traffic in the city was bad, but it wasn’t what the God had seen on his previous visit either. It was simply slow moving cars, not the eternal gridlock of before. There were fewer people on the pavements too, and on the bridges.

Yet the ports, both for the sea and the air, were busier than ever. A dozen planes were leaving for the reclaimed lands in Arika every hour, and ships were already waiting in the waters past the lighthouses in order be given permission to dock and pick up more people.

Arascus stood on his balcony and watched the people moving like ants below him. The city was being depopulated true, but the expressions of the people were not those of refugees. There was constant chatter, fireworks were being set off every night, and cars were speeding along the roads to the Firewall. That had been breached in several points in order to free up the city from the defences which had become a prison. The mood and energy here was one of optimising, at least amongst the general population. Premier-General Abakwa had issued a national decree, anyone who wished to go out and build themselves a home would receive the immediate land around them free of charge. So people were leaving this fortress city for horizons reclaimed.

Although it was only the general population that felt the optimism. The mood amongst the leadership was the opposite. Ausa was falling apart. There was no other way to describe it. In the same way that the population was leaving Igos for greener pastures, so were the other coastal cities of Ausa trying to leave to fulfil their own independence.

Arascus had come to the city for a diplomatic meeting. Officially, it was to discuss with Premier-General Abakwa about a unified effort between Ausa and Kirinyaa about building ports in the Central Arikan Sea. That had been discussed and it had gone much as Arascus had expected it to go. Abakwa had simply been happy that there was any support at all. And he had been in awe at his future role as Governor of the Imperial Province of Ausa. He played the part well.

Frankly, people like Abakwa were rare. He loved his people and his country, but likewise he saw the sheer impossibility of keeping Ausa independent and whole. Ausa could exist independent, Ausa could exist whole, but Ausa could not be both at the same time. The man was smart and cunning. Frankly, Arascus liked the mortal, it was a rare breed of person to come across.

Much more interesting though was the unofficial meetings. Arascus did not keep notes, there was no need to after all, if something was forgotten, that meant it wasn’t important anyway. Fer had said that once, Arascus had liked it. The situation was much worse than predicted, and the meetings weren’t even discussions. They were a three minute speech by Abakwa in which the man explained the situation and Arascus said he would think on it.

Out of the twelve cities of Ausa, one was Igos itself. That left eleven others. Out of those eleven, seven were clamouring for independence. Three had open secessionists in their own governments. One was talking about setting a date for a referendum. The question of whether a referendum should be held had been skipped over entirely, and that all but confirmed that the outcome would be the opposite of what Arascus was aiming for.

So Sokolowski needed to start to move faster. More support had to be sent to his army, more logistics and engineers… Frankly, Arascus wished he had more magicians and more Divines. If there was something one couldn’t have enough of, it was that.

A knock on the door disturbed Arascus’ ruminations on what to do. Arascus quickly crossed the luxurious penthouse. It was the same one he had stayed in with Olephia back then. He opened the door and found himself looking down on a soldier. ECCLA, Epan Coalition Combined Land Army, uniform, Rilian flag over his heart. With a hat on his head and a nervous expression on his face. He looked up at Arascus and made a nervous expression.

“Did you come all the way from the Rilian front?” Arascus asked.

“I did.” The man pulled a salute and Arascus gave his own to release the fellow from the stance. “Goddess Anassa sent me!”

“Then it must be important.” The man nodded and pulled out an envelope from the bag slung over his shoulder. A letter, it wasn’t particularly uncommon. Most humans would not even thinking about touching the seal of an envelope when a Divine passed it off to them. The greater the Divine, the lower the chance of a mortal’s curiosity overpowering their instinct for self-preservation. Some Divines could hand pieces of paper unfolded to mortals and be sure that it would not get inspected. Arascus himself was one of them, the author of this one was another.

Arascus knew who it was immediately, when Divines had letters, they always marked them in their own unique fashion. Someone had started the tradition thousands of years ago and it had stuck. Olephia’s letters would always be slightly charred by her throat. Fer’s, if she ever desperately needed to send one, would have droplets of blood.

And Anassa’s? Anassa would use sorcery to gently press a picture into the envelope, as if a dried stamp had been pressed into the paper. The soldier did not have to say a single word, although he didn’t know that. “Goddess Anassa has sent a letter.” The man passed it to Arascus and the God took it. The pattern on this one was classic Anassa: it was roses interwoven into endless spirals, although they could only be seen when Arascus tilted the envelope so that the little grooves became dark with shadow.

He cracked open the wax seal and pulled out a piece of paper and another envelope. Slightly smaller, this one having the edges lined in gold. That meant it was from Fortia. Arascus waved the man away, the saluted, turned, and left the room as Arascus’ scanned the text written in Anassa’s beautiful cursive handwriting. It smelled of thick perfume, although an expensive and pleasant fragrance, if strong.

Dear Father,

                Fortia sent this letter, a lone Guardian Captain was intercepted by our soldiers. He was making his way directly to the camp I have chosen to publicize my existence in, so I assume this letter is for us and not for Epan forces. Upon delivery, the man said that this letter Fortia sent and that the woman ‘hoped it would reach you’, although if that was impossible, that I am to read it. I do not know if I have been tricked into sending Fortia’s letter to you through that, however I have inspected the envelope, there is no traces of magical rune or enchantment and the only thing within is a piece of paper.

In this regard, I have decided that the thing to do is not to read the paper myself to maintain plausible deniability in case of information within being something I should not possess. I have sent the letter to you, I am curious as to its contents but trust you will tell me in due time.

Your most noble daughter,

Anassa, of Sorcery.

Arascus agreed with Anassa frankly. The woman did not make any strategic decisions, she wasn’t Malam or Kassandora or even Irinika, frankly, she would be able to operate better the less she knew. And she knew that herself too. There was no one on this world, not even Arascus himself, who was more self-aware of themselves than Anassa. The woman had mastered her delusions to ascend into Godhood after all. How could one not be self-aware after a feat like that?

He carefully folded Anassa’s paper back into its envelope and put the thing into the pocket of his coat. Arascus had never been one to wait and savour anticipation so without even a single second of stalling, he took Fortia’s envelope and cracked the seal. Fortia’s handwriting was far easier to read than Anassa’s, which felt as if it took pride in its own pretentious style that excluded anyone not familiar with it from understanding it. The letters were solid and blocky, yet they all connected and wove into each other as if the woman had not once taken her pen off the paper.

To any member of the family.

I do not know if this letter will be read by Anassa, of Sorcery, or whether it will reach Arascus, of Pride. Arascus knew it was bad just from that sentence, when Divines used the full titles of other Divines, it meant paying respects. When respects were paid, that meant someone wanted something.

In either case, to whoever may open this letter, I hope that you are in fact a member of the family. If you have no knowledge of what this means, then please destroy this letter and never consider these words again.

I am writing to inform you that things have changed in the White Pantheon. Due to the call for mobilization in the UNN and the militarization of Sects in Guguo, along with Allasaria leaving to approach Paradeisius for support in the war, I have come to an important decision.

I wish to discuss many things, most of which cannot be stated on paper. However, there is one thing I can say: In order to pay respect to Maisara, Goddess of Order, and to not waste any more blood of my own followers, I call for a truce in the Epan War.

Signed.

Fortia, Goddess of War.

And as Arascus read the text, he knew this should have been a cause for joy and celebration. This news would have been good a month ago.

Now though? When Malam’s strategy relied on a war in Epa and Kassandora’s called for a Pantheon busy elsewhere?

Now, it was the worst thing he could come across.