Night claimed endless sets upon us. Our skies are choked with ash, our lands are drowned in soot. Flames from other others world once again seek to devour all we have ever stood for. Our precious Arda cries for her children and for what they will do.

Tear your hearts into kindling and add them onto the pyre. Bring the candles close your soul. Hand in hand, another piece of kindling on the bonfire. Let it spark. Let it burn. Let it roar.

And watch as the inferno of your spirit sets ablaze the hell from which they crawl.

- Published in EIE Daily, credited to an Allian student of theology.

Fortia peered over her map of Khmet in her tent and a smaller map of all Arika. That second one mattered less of course, it was just used use to track the progress of ashen skies and how far they were stretching. They had crossed into the Ibyan Sassara now. Two days at the current rate and they would reach the coast. It was warfare such a speed of warfare that every general and every commander Fortia had ever known would blush at the textbook example of overextension. Tendrils tens of miles long were snaking there way through the Sassara in the north and in the south, they coalesced into one great ground that was slowly expanding.

Back during the Great War, those tendrils would have been missing. This had to be some new technology or manufactured race of monstrosity that Tartarus had spread. Maybe a new tactic? If they were deploying portals as they went, then it would explain these unnatural patterns too. Fortia wished she was a fly on the wall in Tremali’s and Arascus’ and Kassandora’s offices to see what sort of plans they were cooking up. The western edge of Khmet had been largely secured bar the very north section. That would be done before Tartarus reached the Ibyan coastline though and even if they spread east, then her Guardians would make it in time.

Without any information though, it was risky to negotiate. A team of diplomats would be sent off eventually, but not in these beginning stages of the war when everything was chaos. First, Fortia would have to see what sort of defence the Empire could mount, see if they had any hope and then figure out whether the two-hundred thousand blessed men would actually make a difference. Tartarus would be kept at arm’s length. Back then, Fortia had been against their invitation. Now, she was not going to repeat the same mistake. Talks would be done later. Not yet.

Besides, Fortia’s entire strategy relied on the fact she had been too cowardly to formally leave the White Pantheon with Maisara. Maybe Arascus wanted to make this war global, he certainly had volunteers pouring in from every hidden corner of Arda, but that mattered little. Tartarus was at war with the Empire and not with Arda as a whole. The White Pantheon had been allied with Tartarus in the past. The logic was so simple a child could have thought of it. Simple, and yet it was the only way to prevent Khmet from being ravaged by the fires that Ibya would be devoured by. Fortia’s men had been planting flags and banners and signs proclaiming Khmet White Pantheon territory along its entire western border.

A hard border of a force that had once been allied.

No defences.

No garrisons.

Nothing. The Guardians and Paladins would return to muster in the cities and make themselves useful locally, but Fortia planned to stay out of the war entirely. So Fortia stood with her commanders, no one even said a word. A large screen was fixed to the one of the poles in the tent. Cables hung from it, bound together by zip-ties. On it, a live feed from a Guardian satellites that were monitoring the progress of Tartarus in the Sassara. Another displayed Imperial news channels and their war updates. A third were reports of Arascus in the UNN. Saint Francis right now, the city was in overwhelmed chaos as they scrambled for Kavaa’s blessed healing.

Maisara suddenly stepped into the tent. She didn’t bother saluting. She didn’t have a guard with her. Nor her axe, just her silver armour, the single plate cuirass around her torso and the skirt of scalemail that hung to above her knees. Both Goddesses had shortened them, the sun here was simply too hot and they were being cooked alive in the metal. Both were too stubborn to abandon their armour and the white cloaks they wrapped themselves with merely delayed the onset of the blistering sun rather than stopping it. “Maisara reporting.” Maisara declared in her usual cold and domineering tone. “Progress is steady, no issues with behaviour amongst the men, the locals are treated with respect, so on.”

If anyone else actually said “So on” to Fortia to sum up a report, the Goddess of Peace would send them to clean the latrines on the spot. When it was Maisara though, Fortia knew exactly what she meant. “Is there anything happening?”

“Ibrahim caught me.” That was the Prime Minister of Khmet. Ibrahim Alafuazah, the man in charge. “Apparently the Imperial Province of Kirinyaa wishes for land trade.” Fortia just stared at Maisara.

“And that concerns us how?”

“I don’t know.” Maisara said. “I said told him it’s his decision, we are just here for enforcing a hard border.” Fortia nodded.

“We can allow trade.”

“I’ll let him know if he asks again then.” Maisara said. “And there’s something else I wish to discuss. It’s the Spectator issue.” That was the inside term amongst themselves when discussing the problem of Of Empire. “Do you have time?”

“I have time.” Fortia said as she pushed back from the table. She had more than enough time in fact. She wanted to be out of this tent. “Continue as planned. Report to me if combat starts or if anything unplanned for happens.” Nothing would of course. It was impossible but Fortia’s men saluted to their Goddess and she saluted them back. And once again, Maisara and Fortia walked through the camp. Along floodplains that had been beaten down by the weight of countless men walking in heavy armour. The spring rains were still months away, there was no danger of the camps being washed away. The fronts would be negotiated by then.

And so they walked past tents as soldiers saluted to the Goddesses. Men in heavy armour and men in the new clothes that Fortia was procuring. The fact it was a lower quality of Imperial desert suits did not matter. Annoying it could have been, but they had to make do at the end day of the day. Modern tactical vests and the like had not been on Fortia’s mind, domestic rifle production in the strongholds she still had left were more important. Khmet would get a contract soon, as soon as Fortia and Maisara had successfully ingratiated herself in with the local politics.

The pair of Goddesses once again walked to the Sassara. Ahead of them, Fortia’s dark bronze and Maisara’s unicoloured silver flags fluttered in the wind. Below them, the white-gold of the White Pantheon shifted every now and then. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I’ve been thinking of leads.” Maisara said. “To do with the Spectator.”

“What have we got?” Fortia asked. Maisara had taken it upon herself. As crucial as Of Empire was, they could not shift all attention to her. Arascus’ massive bureaucracy would do in a month what they did in day. If they weren’t digging this creature out before Arascus got a hold on it, then they would be too late.

“Theosius.” Maisara said. “There are two I can think of, but Theosius we can cross off the list quickly and without raising suspicion.”

“Do you think he’ll know anything?” Fortia asked, her tone dire. “Have you ever spilled a secret to him?”

“Nothing consequential.” Fortia said. “Just minor things.”

“Oh.” Maisara said. “Well I suppose I didn’t expect that.”

“Nothing large. He asked me for my favourite colour once.”

“It’s autumn bronze.” Maisara said quickly and Fortia smiled.

“It is.” Fortia said. “But nothing strategic or tactical, he knew to keep his mouth shut for that.”

“With you.” Maisara said. “But we can’t be certain whether he’s not done the same with Allasaria. They worked more together than we did with him.”

“True.” Fortia said. “But do you have hope?”

“None whatsoever but a first step has to be taken.” Maisara said and blinked. She came close to Fortia. “Actually, I just thought of another one, just now. This, Theosius will know.”

“What?”

“What do you bury Divines in?” Maisara asked.

“Godstone.” Fortia replied and realised what she said. Theosius may not know anything about the plan but he had a hand in every shard of Godstone forged on Arda. Unless Allasaria had managed to get another world to produce it, then that would be their paper trail. “If he has the dates of manufacture still, then we can narrow it down.”

“It would be a good call as well to estimate the temperament. If production was rushed and urgent, then we know the Spectator was already around and that they were on a schedule. If it came about early, before Malam started her counter to Helenna’s open propaganda.” Maisara leaned in even closer until Fortia felt the woman’s breath on her cheek. “Then it has to go. Arascus won’t do it. We know he won’t but all the world’s evils can’t be allowed to exist.”

“I know.” Fortia said and leaned her onto Maisara’s. The sun was starting to get hot, even with the white shawl over her armour, she was starting to sweat. “But that’s a good lead nonetheless. They could have hidden… you know who, but not a prison like that.”

“I expect it’s buried somewhere.” Maisara said. “Allasaria could do it with her beams, just cave out a ravine and then collapse it. We’ll need equipment to find it.”

“You’re jumping ahead of yourself.” Fortia said. “Seismic sonars won’t be difficult to get though.”

“I’m only saying it now because we have an excuse rather than later.”

“What is that?”

“Pretend we are worried about Tartarus causing earthquakes. I’ll be able to get a few of Ibrahim when he hears that.” Actually, that was a perfect idea. But it was Maisara negotiating and Maisara was Maisara.

“Will you do it without a lie?”

“Arda is under threat, we need to make sure there’s nothing underground.” Maisara replied back. “There. Who will question that?”

“No one.” Fortia said.

“It’s not my first dance with words.” Maisara said. “So we’re a go on that?”

“We’re a go. I can go visit Theosius under the same guise that I’m inspecting equipment in case Tartarus is rogue.”

“Perfect.” Maisara said. “And I have the second person.”

“Who is that?”

“Alice.” Maisara said and Fortia scanned her memory. Alice? Who? “Have you forgotten?”

“Mmh.” Fortia said.

“Leona’s maid. She should still be alive. This one, I do have hope for. They talked a lot.” The moment Maisara said the name, Fortia knew they had found the best case scenario for them.

Fortia immediately started to see the issues. “No last name, adopted by Leona when she was an orphan, no family.” Fortia trailed off. “Does she even have a passport?”

“Most likely.” Maisara said. “And if Leona procured one for her, then it’s probably one that is not any record.” The two Goddesses sighed in unison.

“That is a lead though.”

“It is.” Maisara said. “Leona must have talked to someone about the war.” Everyone did. There wasn’t a single of them that did not recall the great events of the past. “Either way, we have our two choices. Alice can ultimately just confirm what we know.”

“Unless Leona just told her to avoid a region.” Fortia said. “It could be like Olephia, there may be leakages of energy.”

“I’m not Malam to be able to sniff that out though.” Maisara said.

“Neither am I.” Fortia said. “But good thinking.”

“Mmh.” Maisara said and put her arm around Fortia. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know.” Maisara said. “For being with me for the Second Great War?”