HqNes2 - Fair, New World

Okay, here goes a story. However, I expect Farow to recognize this as I probably broke some rule of NESing and pretty much used the same orders with very little change over again in his NES. The nations have pretty much the same basis, I must confess, but I am doing so intending to take them different directions and see how they fare. To break even more rules, I am going to reuse the first part of the other story simply because it applies here and I am very tired and overworked from the load of work this week.

However, feel good Hq, I wrote the orders first for your NES, even if the story came first in Farow's. As penance for this crime, I shall include a bit at the end about the Krypteia.

Government of the Realm of Laconia​


I. Basileus

The Basileus is the most powerful single man in the land, although he is balanced by the Ephorate, the Gerousia, and the Apella. He is the general of the armies and generally has free reign in regards to foreign policy, as well as religious matters. He also serves as a magistrate in court cases wherein the crime is a grevious religious offense, almost all universally punishable by death. The Basileus was not a hereditary position - candidates were chosen from male citizens of more than 40 years of age with proven martial ability (both strategic/tactical and personal combat) and wit. The Ephorate approved the Candidates and the Apella voted on their appointment. Each Basileus ruled until death and were essentially above all law, though the Ephorate could submit a motion to the Gerousia for the execution of the King for treason against the state.

II. Gerousia

Literally, "the Old Ones," the Gerousia is a council of all citizens above the age of 60. Their main responsibility is approving measures by the Ephorate for submission to the Apella, though they also oversee court cases involving murder, although in general Laconian judicial law is not terribly developed due to the extraordinarily low rate of crime, almost to the point where it is non-existant. Almost 100% of cases are between Perioikoi living within Laconia, and even those are few and far between. The Gerousia serves as highly respected adivsory body as well.

III. The Ephorate

Composed of nine members of male citizens aged 40 years and up, the Ephorate typically consists of men between 50 and 70. These are some of the most intelligent men in the whole of Laconia, as they are selected for life terms by the Gerousia (and as such are removed from petty politics by the certainty of their position). The Ephorate provides the majority of domestic policy, although the Basileus technically has a veto on motions deemed outrageous, though this has been used less than five times in recorded history.

IV. The Apella

All of the citizens of Laconia, aged 30 and up are members of the Apella (Assembly) and simultaneously members of the Army (as military service is a prerequisite for Citizen status - those who live outside the walls and are descended from weaklings are classed as perioikoi). They ratify domestic laws proposed by the Ephorate and endorsed by the Gerousia. They also organize various committees overseeing various aspects of life in Laconia, such as the Committee of Irrigation, etc.

Social Classes of Laconia


I. Citizens

Citizens are all those descended from the strong and intelligent. They live within the city walls and their entire lives are dedicated to the army, philosophy, oratory, and government. They are the smallest minority of Laconia's population, but see themselve as the only true people of Laconia. They are the only ones who can hold government position. They are not allowed to freely pick who they marry (although they can select from candidates), the women raise the children until age 7 and then the children, both male and female, are placed in separate barracks until age 30, in which case they are allowed to move in with their wives. Their entire lives are focused around merit/status/honour, and as such are extremely competitive. They (and all classes) own no individual property and as such they focus on honour through skills rather than prestige through wealth. Also, one's birth has no affect on one's place in society (apart form being a citizen, that is very hard to lose) - a child is the State's property, his parents are merely caring for it until it is ready to begin its training.

II. Perioikoi

The Nearby Dwellers are all those descended from weaklings, but proved to be somewhat resilient and function as the middle class in Laconian society. They can be be pressed into military service and perform decently, but that is not their forte. They serve as Laconia's artisan culture, and are treated relatively well, their lives are slightly less regimented by the government, but they still view themselves as the property of the State. They form approximately 40% of Laconians. There are many levels of Perioikoi, and the structure is very fluid and very based on talent and skill. Particularly pathetic Perioikoi can drop down to slave status. Perioikoi cannot hold any governmental position.

III. Slaves

Slaves are conquered peoples or those who can do little else but farm. They are the largest group of people in Laconia, forming approximately 50% of the population. They largely subservient, weak, and afraid, although the occasional unorganized uprising is brutally suppressed. They are sometimes forced into military service as a cheap form of skirmishers and bravery or excellence in the field is rewarded with elevation to Perioikoi status. Despite being the lowest of society, they can still compete amongst each other to be the best and as such they are typically in conflict with each other to prove that they deserve Perioikoi status and too divided to rebel.

As the realm grows, multiple Assemblies are set up, as well as multiple Gerousia and sub-Ephorates (as the main Ephorate has ultimate power), though each city elects its own representative to sit at a special Council of the Cities in Laconia. There is only one Basileus. Each city is largely self-sufficient, but they are bound together through their complete and total indoctrination and belief in the State Above All and right of the Strong to rule over the Weak.

Krypteia: Knives in the Dark

The Laconian social structure produces certain levels of what could be labelled discontent from time to time, most often among those who benefit the least from the system - namely, the slaves. These slaves, however, are not slaves for no reason. Having proven themselves worthy of little other than farming, the slaves arenot particularly bright, nor are they strong, nor agile, nor rebellious. In fact, their relatively docile nature and relationship to Laconian agriculture has led to the widespread view that these creatures are little more than autonomous livestock.

To bring them to this level of sober mediocrity, the Laconians engaged in a rather primitive form of eugenics. All those who displayed talent were incorporated into the Perioikoi, provided they submitted to Laconian rule. Bloody execution awaited those who refused. Due to this partitioning of talent and association with social class, the lower orders rarely, if ever, mixed with their betters and, as such, had little to work with in the way of heredity.

Life finds a way, however, and there exists the odd occasion whereby a particularly salient specimen is produced by the Slave gene pool and there is a possibility that this specimen could conceivably advance himself to Perioikoi service by accomplishing some great deed for the State. More likely, though, was that such an individual would have a run-in with the Krypteia - literally, the Secrets.

The Krypteia were volunteers from the Citizen class who went outside the city walls, past the Perioikoi districts, and into Slave Country. He would live off the land, either alone or in a small group, through a combination of hunting, foraging, and stealing. The chief purpose of this outing was to murder any Slave judged to be a threat, whether through brute strength or rebellious mutterings, in horrifying ways, typically without witnesses. If such a victim could not be found, random murders were meted out as a way to terrify the Slaves, keeping them firmly under the Laconian boot. Their armour is highly stylized, enhancing the demonic aspect, empowering the wearer with a sense of otherworldly power, and birthing (on the odd chance a witness was allowed to escape) the myriad wild tales of Hellish minions slaughtering those who disobey the Laconians.
 
IggyPunches LittleBoots.

Note: IggyPunches are used when someone reuses a nation, story, or blatantly remakes a nation in some other way.
 
Well, the NPCs aren't always the brightest, but some might also feel pressured by their big neighbour ;) Example... Denmark signed a NAP with Germany before the second world war despite knowing that with Hitler it wouldn't really matter one way or the other... but you can always hope :lol:
 
<post>
<OOC>
Harleqin said:
Erik, I'm still looking for the religion. Don't really have anything on it though apart from the name so you can base it on.... well.... anything ;)
Cuivienen seemed to go NPC early on. Aunern appeared to mean "Spirit Power", so I'm declaring it to be the worship of the omnipresent spirit(s) of all things. Sort of Hinduism-Feng Shui-Shinto.
</OOC>

<story>
It is unclear (well, theologically complex) whether Aunern venerates a single powerful spirit that makes itself known through all things, or each individual spirit of every thing that is. The priests of Aunern teach that the(se) spirit(s) control the force called 'luck' which manifests itself in people's lives.

Unlike most other religions, Aunern places little emphasis on ancestor worship, but has great reverence for the people of the future. Those who are and were are thanked for their contributions in creating a better life for those who will be.

Proper treatment of all objects as they ought to be used leads to better 'luck' not only for oneself, but for the community as a whole. Hence when the actions of the people are in accordance with Aunern teachings, the general well-being of all people will increase and the future will be better. Every man has a sacred duty towards the future, an obligation passed on to him by the last generation who generated better luck for him and his coterminants.

In Aunern cosmology, souls are viewed cyclically. When a person dies, their body is to be disposed of in accordance with the actions of that person and their station at time of death, and their soul persists right from the moment the body dies. Then the soul is free to wander around and observe. When a given soul person has seen enough, he may choose to forget and be born as a new person with no memory.

The souls of unbelievers are blinded and crippled to a degree according to their lifestyle. Those who did not revere the Spirit(s) either by actions or oaths see the world as through a thick mist, full of noise, smelling of rot. They will generally choose to be born again to escape such an existence.
</story>

<OOC>
Preliminary orders are 1 eco point to clearing up whatever I messed up in last turn's spending, and 2 to starting a new project, Altars of Aun, which will spread my religion to neighbouring countries. Sound reasonable?
</OOC>
</post>
 
Will post a story soon :). Orders will come shortly after. I have a lot of tests to study for tonight so I should probably get off now :).
 
Sounds very reasonable :)

Also, I have some news that can be good and bad ;) I got my new schedule and it appears I'll have Fridays off for the next semester, so there's a high chance I'll move the deadline forward twenty-four hours. Not now, but the one after this. I'll let you know in the update :)
 
Tiesto orders

Grow the army size
Expand into the untaken areas
 
Imperian Story

"well, things are going better for us than when you were in charge, right father?" Alan Richards said looking at the growing city of Gregengrad from the balcony of the palace

"hell no, you've ruined my work, the millitary is no longer growing and you've allowed religion into this nation, thus destroying any chance the government had of making these people civilized!" Ernest said, his face turning red

"listen, don't you talk about civilized you old coot! you have done nothing but hurt these people, they are unwilling to trust me because I simply share your last name! I intend to bring a great people to their feet and to allow them to walk into a government building without being in chains!" Alan moved closer to his father to look him in the eye

"I am a visionary, the people would be nothing without me and it appears leaving you in charge was a mistake!" with that he scrunched his hand into a fist and threw it at Alan, hitting him in the nose and knocking him to the floor

Alan rose to his knees and drew a dagger he had kept in the heel of his boot and slashed it across the throat of the former leader of Imperia

"as you can see.... I'm not the kind to have people killed without even seeing them, this is for the people, my people" Alan then pushed Ernest off the balcony, much to the delight of the crowds below



"Citizens of Imperia!" he yelled to those bellow "your enemy has been slain, I only hope you can trust me and even if you dont trust me, unlike my father, I will not hurt you for your opinion!" with that he wiped the blood from his nose and walked into the palace



OOC: this was my first story without a news tinge to it :p
 
Execution of Galig the Mayor of Torpestan Province

In Calador Governor Galig was one of the few corrupt officials publicly executed to stand as a symbol to all corrupt officials in the nation. A man called the announcer reads off the crimes committed. Then the executioner steps forward with his giant axe and takes the head off the criminal. The head is then mounted on a pike and left in the town square until it is picked clean by birds as a warning. All the skulls of major criminals are left on the executioner platform to make it a symbol of orders and justice.

Announcer: Governor Galig of the Torpestan province is hereby renounced of his title for treason against the government of Calador. Governor Galig has been found guilty for selling to barbarians along the borders of our grand kingdom plans for future campaigns against them. His punishment is death and his family is to be moved to the frontier towns to live amongst the peasantry as a punishment for exposing the other members to corruption. Now let the execution begin. Governor Galig do you have any last words?

Governor Galig: Spare my family!! Please leave them be for they are innocent and had nothing to do with my greed. Spare them and do not ruin their lives for my stupid decisions. Please spare them!!!!!

Announcer: All punishments are final by the King and by the judge. Executionor raise the axe please.

The executioner raises the axe and brings it down and in an instant it is over as Governor Galig&#8217;s head rolls on the ground. The executioner picks it by the hair and sticks it on a pike.

Announcer: Let this be a warning to all that any treason or corruption within our government will not be tolerated and you will be met with swift justice.

OCC:

Something stupid I wrote up :) while I was bored. Orders to come tomorrow.

I would have written something better but motivation is gone with school and the three tests I have had to take :).
 
could've been worse, he might have started throwing daggers and poision on him after throwing him off:p
 
Besides many prominent people have fallen to their deaths after a nice little push over the edge.
 
Isis​



First Life


&#8220;Mother&#8221; The young child called out, giggling and laughing in general glee as the woman approached from over the hill. Carefully conducting her footwork, she slowly headed down the hill towards the child and the village. The child laughed in glee again and charged at the young mother. Her long flowing white hair hung down below her head, restricted with a small clip tied in the middle. The woman laughed and scooped the small child up, shifting the jar of water into her other hand.

&#8220;Where&#8217;s your father Nikea?&#8221; The woman asked, ruffling the young girl&#8217;s hair. She smiled once more at the child, tracing her finger over the girl&#8217;s chin. A second later she placed the girl back onto her feet and led by the hand.

&#8220;Hunting.&#8221; The young child said in her childish voice. The two made their way through the bustling village, exchanging greetings and departings with the various inhabitants. Other than a stray laugh or word, the two walked hand-in-hand in silence towards the far end of the village. The woman&#8217;s bright blue tunic contrasted her child&#8217;s dark red clothes, and the child&#8217;s short black hair distinguished her mother&#8217;s rare white hair. Finally the pair managed to make their way to a small wooden hut set off to the far edge of the village&#8217;s border.

A man was lounging outside of it, slowly peeling the hide off a full grown male deer. His hair was short, a rich brown color that matched the dirt road. He wore a rich green tunic that corresponded to the leaves of the maple trees. He looked up, brown eyes shining, and simply uttered: &#8220;Where were you?&#8221;

&#8220;Water.&#8221; She said motionlessly, leaving the girl behind while stepping inside the hut. The man simply shook his head and continued his work while the child started to scratch games into the dirt using a pointed stick. &#8220;How long till you&#8217;re ready?&#8221; The woman asked her husband, peeking out of the hut.

&#8220;A lot quicker if you would help me, you know?&#8221; The man supposed, shaking his head slightly with remorse. The woman sighed and walked back out into the scorching sun, settling down beside the man. She grabbed a knife from the other side of the man and went to work on cleaning up the meat. She took gratification in the fact that her husband had at least managed to get one thing right: the stag had at least been downed with an arrow and killed with a throat-cut.

&#8220;The stag is quite large.&#8221; She confided to her husband. &#8220;I hope it&#8217;ll be enough for tonight Idrea.&#8221;

&#8220;I saw Tarn on my way back. He had caught some small rabbits and he said he&#8217;d have Area prepare them for tonight. Rean is supposed to be making a stew also. &#8220;He said quietly, his vision level with his work. He spoke again as an afterthought entered his head: &#8220;Then again, Redan asked to attend to.&#8221; He spoke the notorious town cripple, who often had little enough to feed his family, and never any more to provide for the rest of the families at a gathering.

&#8220;Curse the gods if you told him yes.&#8221; The woman sighed, shaking her head.

&#8220;What was I supposed to do Isis, leave them to starve?&#8221; The man said angrily, jerking the fur and skin back.

&#8220;Gods forbid if we starve Idrea!&#8221; The woman shouted, gesturing into the air. &#8220;We barely have enough to feed our damn selves- how much do you think there will be when you add all those free-loaders in?!&#8221; She said scathingly, lowering her voice a beat. The woman sighed with the passing of a few minutes. &#8220;How many in all?&#8221;

&#8220;Thirty.&#8221; The man said without beating an eye. The woman swore under her breath, cursing the gods. &#8220;There will be enough Isis- just calm down and help me out here.&#8221; The man said, struggling to remove the thick skin.

Six hours later the deer was cooked and everyone was gathered outside the small hut. Men were gathered around a large, hauled-in table. Some of the women were squeezed in with the men, while the rest were seated outside with the children. Inside the hut, talk had turned to recent events.

&#8220;Have you heard Idrea?&#8221; A large man to his left asked with a grin plastered on his face- the result of drinking too much intoxicants.

&#8220;Heard what Juva?&#8221; The man asked, grinning slightly.

&#8220;Juven went to Parada a couple days ago- for a certain *special* reason.&#8221; Juva said laughing. Parada- the &#8216;capital&#8217; of the region was known for two things- the countless number of guilds, cults, and sects based in it and the &#8216;services&#8217; one could receive from a number of the city&#8217;s female citizens.

&#8220;Not much of a surprise. I&#8217;m surprised he hasn&#8217;t just moved to the city.&#8221; Idrea said, returning the laugh.

Suddenly several loud screams erupted from outside- a child&#8217;s scream along with the cries of several men. Chaos broke out- both inside the hut and outside- as everyone surged to the exist, trying to see what was going on. The scene outside was worse than anything any of them could ever imagine.

&#8220;Sons of the gods&#8230;.&#8221; Idrea whispered, unable to comprehend the scene in front of him. The village was burning. Men on horses were riding here and there, throwing flaming torches onto the straw roof and setting them alight. Villagers- some of his brothers and friends- were running away in frantic motions- only to be cut down steps from where they had originated by a stroke from a long sword. A thought jumped into Idrea&#8217;s mind and he scanned the pandemonium, trying to pick out a head of black hair from the jumbled crowds. Idrea gasped as he found the girl lying on the ground, unmoving. The man instinctually grabbed his wife&#8217;s shoulders before she could go running out into the mess.

&#8220;Nikea!&#8221; Isis screamed, struggling to reach her fallen child. The woman frantically panted, fighting in her husband&#8217;s arms. A sudden swift sound passed by her ear- eliciting a gurgling sound from behind. Her husband&#8217;s once restricting hands went lack suddenly and Isis stumbled forwards. She watched in horror as the man collapsed backwards- an arrow sticking out from his throat.

What was once chaos turned into bedlam and anarchy. The entire village, by this time properly warned, poured out the gates and towards the main group of raiders- fulfilling the trap set by a smaller group set up on the other side of the village. They were cut down without remorse by the raider&#8217;s swift movements. Within minutes the entire village had been slaughtered- save a young woman weeping beside two corpses.

The leader of the raiders- a young man with a cloth emblazoned with an &#8220;A&#8221; tied around his skull. He gave the young woman a slight grin. &#8220;You&#8217;ve seemed to miss one Tarda.&#8221; He smiled, gesturing to a man on his side. &#8220;I&#8230;..think its time to have some fun&#8230;&#8230;&#8221; The man said smiling. He crossed the distance before reaching down and grabbing the woman by her tunic. With thumbs up to his men, he dragged her into the hut. Screams emitted from the hut for a while, but they too died after a while. Some hours later the man emerged from the hut with a smug look on his face. &#8220;I&#8217;m all done- you can take care of her now Tarda.&#8221;

&#8220;I&#8217;ll take care of that right now.&#8221; The man said frowning. He quickly crossed the small distance before placing the point of his spear against her throat. &#8220;Time to join your family, girl.&#8221;

&#8220;Wait.&#8221; The leader said, rubbing a hand over his chin. &#8220;Hmmm&#8230;&#8230;.I think she might just come in&#8230;. handy in the future- who knows the price she might fetch in Parada. I don&#8217;t care what he said- I want at least one prisoner to make this worthwhile. Take her.&#8221; He instructed before mounting a tall, pitch black horse- his own stallion. &#8220;Torch it and lets go!!&#8221; He yelled to the men before pounding away. The majority of the men galloped away, leaving a couple behind to set fire to the village.

Isis, stuck within the powerful grasp of Tarda, struggled in vain to get away from her captor. The pair pounded their way away from the village, taking a long mud road. The woman suddenly smash her head backwards- right into the unwary skull of Tarda. The man howled in rage, the pair tumbling to the ground and the man clutching his face. Without pausing, Isis immediately took off away from the returning soldiers.

&#8220;I&#8217;ll kill that *****!&#8221; The man howled, grabbing his spear and advancing towards the fleeing woman with a red-stained face. Gathering speed, the man prepared to hurl the spear with all the strength his body possessed- only to have it yanked out of his hands at the last moment by the leader.

&#8220;Let her go&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8221; The man said slowly, eying the figure fleeing into the night.



Second Life


The girl sat huddled on the ground, her head sunken between her muddy legs. Thunder pounded the sky from above, illuminating the dark sky. Rain poured from the heavens above, drenching the disheartened young woman and chilling her to the bone. Her wet ivory hair clenched to her neck, as if ivy climbing up the stone wall of a building. Her fair skin dripped with rain and fed the ground in its unquenchable thirst. Her tight blue tunic clutched to her form, closer to a second skin than the appropriate clothing of a young lady. She lay huddled on the muddy dirt, head fallen between her legs. Tears streamed down her face, mixing in with the pouring rain. Lightning streamed across the sky again, sounding off against the clouds as if an orchestrated by a grand maestro. Her clothes were torn in several obvious places, revealing abused skin underneath.

She brought her head out of its sunken ravine and cast a sorrowful eye towards the heavens above. Her mouth dropped open and a pitiful wail echoed forth from the depths of her soul, realizing all the pent up sorrow from her being. She screamed against the raging heavens for what seemed to be to her forever. On and on she emptied her lungs and soul, raging against gods and men alike. Finally, after all the time, she closed her mouth and continued to stare towards the heavens. The moment following could be called a true awakening. She clenched her fists together and struggled to pick her battered body off the ground. Eyes blazing with an unknown fire, she stumbled towards the burning fire in the distance.

She stumbled along the muddy road, a look of wincing pain on her face. Walking through the rain, she made her way towards a small village situated in a sloping valley. She semi-boldly walked into the burning village, giving the battling flames no attention. She passed the bodies of her slain friends and paid them no heed. She passed the corpses of the slaughtered animals that she once tended without pausing. She finally arrived at her destination: a small, torched hut at the far edge of the village.

She collapsed to her knees and began to move the soot around with her bare hands. She paused for a moment as an ivory bone peeked out at her from underneath the ashes, a slight tear edging along her eye, but continued in her search after a second. After a few vain moments she swept a few stray ashes out of the way and found the object of her search: a long, thin blade that ended in a slight curve- the prize possession of her departed husband. She picked the blade up out of the dirt and hugged it fiercely to her chest. Breathing ruggedly, she once again allowed herself to feel.

&#8220;Heya!&#8221; A voice snapped out of nowhere, startling the woman out of her trance. The repeating sounds of a horse charging blindly through the smoke. She jumped up of the ground and held the sword to her chest, breathing rapidly now. Through the smoke a chestnut horse came thundering towards the young woman, a rider wedged in the saddle with his axe raised high. &#8220;Heya!&#8221; The man yelled again, digging his knees into the horse and urging it on faster. The woman stumbled backwards as the man slashed at her with the axe, grazing her middle and adding a new tear in her tunic.

The man jerked back on the reigns and prepared to charge the woman once more. The girl stumbled backwards once more as the tip of the blade just missed slashing her face. The horseman thundered some forty feet and stopped once again, preparing to charge a third time. He charged, blade extended outwards at the woman&#8217;s throat, towards the woman. This time the woman was ready- she braced herself and, with eyes of fire, readied the curved blade in her hands as it pointed towards the man.

When the horse thundered past the woman two things happened: one was that the man&#8217;s blade dug a thin red line across the woman&#8217;s cheek, barely making a glancing blow. The other was that the woman&#8217;s sword became lodged in the man&#8217;s chest, blade sunk in deep from her blow. Without a sound the man collapsed from his horse and fell to the mucky ground. The horse thundered off into the distance, leaving the woman standing with the blade extended- a thin red path winding its way down her cheek. She staggered away from the hut moments later, heading towards the west this time.

With a look or sorrow lingering on her face, the woman turned around and put the village to her back. As if a cruel irony, the woman began to make her way up the hill she had climbed earlier that day, placing her feet surely on the muddy ground. The woman managed to make her way to the top of the hill, fighting the slippery slope the way up. At the summit of the hill, she paused for a brief second. And, for the final time, Isis left her home, putting the gutted village to the back of her mind.

From the small village Isis would follow the tracks of the raiders for some time before they were washed away by rain. The track grew cold after the rain, and Isis was never able to get her revenge on those who robbed her. She would cross the land, training the entire time with her blade, and following the whispers of a ghost trail. Eventually she was led to a small village on the side of a mountain where her third life would begin.

Third Life

The small tavern was filled to the brim with customers, packed as it usually was on a Sunday night. A thick layer of hazy smoke lingers in the air, giving the place a certain smell. A large &#8220;booth&#8221; like seat was set up in a corner, with six men crowded into it. Normally they wouldn&#8217;t have stuck out, if it wasn&#8217;t for the fact that they all were dressed alike. They all wore simple uniforms of red and black, with a white sash tied around the heads. A small emblem was sewn onto the sash, an emblazed red &#8220;A&#8221;.

Sitting around them were countless other men, all dressed like them except for missing the sash. In general, they all were chatting as old friends and having fun playing with the various waiters and other women of unmoral standings.

One of the men with an &#8220;A&#8221; sash began to talk loudly, pushing lightly on a younger waitress. &#8220;Where&#8217;s the food?&#8221; He grubbed.

The waitress fidgeted nervously where she stood, wishing for the man to cease in his pushing. &#8220;Madam Reans apologizes. She says the food will be out as soon as it is done.&#8221;

&#8220;I didn&#8217;t ask for an excuse!&#8221; The man snarled. &#8220;Tell that woman that if we don&#8217;t eat soon, something *bad* will happen.&#8221; The man threatened, emphasizing the last part. The girl nodded and scuttled away, keeping her head down. &#8220;Now that&#8217;s what I thought!&#8221; The man said laughing.

&#8220;Yeah- they know better than messing with us Rads!&#8221; A man on his left said, nodding his head in agreement with the other man. &#8220;Higoria would burn this place to the ground if that lady dared to step out of line.&#8221; He said with amusement. The men continued to grow agitated for the next thirty minutes until the time the girl finally came back, carrying a wooden tray towards the table. She gave a sudden cry as she tripped and the tray went flying into the air, sending the contents falling all over the men.

&#8220;Gaaaaaaaah!&#8221; One of the men sitting to Rads&#8217;s left screamed as hot liquid scalded his face. The rest were more fortunate than the unlucky sap and receive much less of the soups. Nevertheless, Rads jumped up in a fit of rage.

&#8220;You clumsy little fool!&#8221; He spat at her, dragging a dull sword from its resting place beside him. &#8220;You&#8217;ll pay for that with your life.&#8221; He snarled, shoving the burning man out of his way and speeding around the table to the girl (who stood still, trembling with fear.) Face twisted in a snarl, the man raised his sword and prepared to swipe her head off. A second later a whizzing sound flew through the air and the sword never fell and the crowded room grew silent as they figured out what had happened. The handle of a knife was lodged deep in the man&#8217;s neck, jutting out the other end from his voice box.

The apparent leader of the group, a young man sitting the direct corner of the room, slowly stood up as Rads&#8217;s corpse collapsed to the ground. He gave the room a vengeful look as he slowly began to speak. &#8220;Who did this?&#8221; He received a response when the entire room turned at stared in one direction- a hooded figure sitting at a lone booth. &#8220;Who the hell do you think you are?&#8221; He asked quietly but received no answer from the figure. &#8220;Fine.&#8221; He snapped. &#8220;Get him.&#8221; He said, indicating to his men.

Three fully grown men, standing tall and stout, stood up from a table and started to crack their knuckles with broad smiles on their faces. The first one reached the figure and raised a meaty fist, clutching the figure&#8217;s hood. &#8220;Lord Davrin asked you a question- you&#8217;d be better to answer him.&#8221; He said with a toothy grin. A second later that tooth had been knocked out after the figure had reached down and slammed a wooden bowl into his mouth. The man staggered back, howling and clutching his bleeding mouth. The figure launched a swift kick into the man&#8217;s stomach, sending him reeling backwards into a table.

The two other men, seeing their comrade downed, charged as one at the figure. The figure grabbed another two dull bronze knifes off the table and hurled them through the air. One missed the given target but the other lodged within the man&#8217;s ankle- knocking him onto the ground where he lay clutching his wound. The other man paid no heed and charged the figure once more. He actually managed to make it all the way to the table. To his shock, the figure unfurled the hood and withdrew a long blade, sliding it across his middle in a single fluid motion. The man collapsed on the floor, a crimson puddle collecting underneath him.

The leader of the men gave the figure a look of disgust. &#8220;Just who the hell are you?&#8221; He snapped.

This time the figure answered- in a feminine voice. &#8220;An old enemy with a score to settle.&#8221; She said quietly, taking the time to remove the hood from blocking her face. Blazing green eyes scorched the room. Once-long white hair that had been slaughtered and rendered short and precise while a thin scar was traced her left cheek.

&#8220;Hmmm&#8230;&#8230;is it me or have we not met?&#8221; The leader said with a slight drunken grin plastered on his face.

&#8220;Your men met my family years ago- at the point of a spear.&#8221; She said slowly pacing around the grouped men. &#8220;Your men killed them for no reason.&#8221; She said scathingly.

&#8220;My dear you&#8217;re going to have to elaborate for me- my men kill a lot of families.&#8221; The leader said with a bored look on his face. &#8220;Oh forget it. Just kill her.&#8221; The man said with a yawn, motioning his men on. Some twelve men took his call and began to advance on the girl. One of the younger men, headstrong and rash, charged ahead of the group and swung his axe at the girl. She did what came naturally- she ducked underneath the flying blade and slammed her foot where it hurt. Seconds later she gutted the man with a swift, brutal downwards stab. She grabbed the dropped axe and hurled in into a man&#8217;s chest, dropping a second.

Her next moved surprised the men- she charged them [i/]. The swift blade swung in the air three times, striking down two men and grievously wounding the third. The woman made good use of what she had trained for so long: she danced in between them, slicing here and there and letting the men slice each other for her. She managed to make her way to the other side of the throng of men, turning around and watching as eleven of the men collapsed to the ground.

The last man stood confused, his blade dripping wet with the blood of his comrade, staring around for the girl frantically. Finally he turned around and spotted her- standing with a smile on her face and a dropped axe in her hand. She winked and hurled the axe with a fluid motion, dropping the final man.

&#8220;Imbeciles!&#8221; The leader roared, drawing his own blade and advancing on the woman. She dodged underneath the final swinging blade and shoved her foot into the man&#8217;s chest, knocking him back into a table. The man struggled to get up as Isis vaulted forward towards him. She slammed her foot into his chest once more, pinning him to the table. &#8220;Tell me!&#8221; She said patiently, wedging the curved tip against the man&#8217;s throat. &#8220;I swear to the gods I will split your damn throat if you don&#8217;t tell me your benefactor!&#8221; She raged.

The man coughed, the blade resting on his Adam&#8217;s apple. &#8220;It was the Aterians! They hired us to burn your village and leave none alive! I&#8217;m sorry- I swear to it! Just don&#8217;t kill me!&#8221; he pleaded. Isis relaxed a bit and released some of the pressure off the man&#8217;s throat.

&#8220;The Aterians?&#8221; She said breathily, looking at the man confused. A silent second later the curved tip of the blade was pressed against his throat once more.

&#8220;The c-cult!&#8221; He wheezed. &#8220;They&#8217;re the damn cult in Parada that worships Ares. Higoria- their gods-damned leader- came to me three weeks ago with a large bag of gold. How could I refuse?!&#8221; He stammered. Isis grimaced and dug the blade closer to his throat. &#8220;Its not like my relatives were in the village!&#8221; He screamed as she continued to apply pressure. The man realized a second after he said it that he had made a deadly mistake- a second later the whizzing sound of cold steel rung out and his head (and body) collapsed to the floor.

Isis stumbled to the floor, hyperventilating and weeping. She struggled for breath, head in her hands and tears flowing freely. She screamed in rage. After all this time, after all this chasing, she still hadn&#8217;t brought vengeance for her family. And now it was in the hands of some gods-damned cult. She had failed in her given task. She had failed to honor the memory of her family- and failed to gain vengeance on those responsible for their deaths.

&#8220;You won&#8217;t get them that way.&#8221; The voice spoke quietly, bringing the woman out of her moment of grief.

&#8220;What?&#8221;

&#8220;You won&#8217;t get them that way- standing still, you know?&#8221; The voice said in an as-matter-of-fact voice. &#8220;You won&#8217;t catch up with them if you still.&#8221;

&#8220;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;I don&#8217;t know where to go&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;.&#8221; The woman muttered, not really focusing on anything.

&#8220;Of course you do- you heard it with your own ears.&#8221; The voice said with a slight ring of old laughter.

&#8220;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;It&#8217;s no use- they&#8217;re too many to fight. Not to mention too strong.&#8221; She said despairingly.

&#8220;Oh come on now. I saw you fight- they&#8217;d be no match for you. You&#8217;re a one woman army.&#8221; The voice said with a slight chuckle. An old man came into view, dressed in old gray robes. His snowy, white long hair hung freely behind his head. His sapphire eyes glimmered in the shaky light as he smiled and offered Isis a hand. &#8220;Come now- do not despair for there is always hope.&#8221;

&#8220;What do you know&#8230;&#8230;.You&#8217;re just an old fool.&#8221; Isis muttered, grabbing the man&#8217;s hand and pulling herself up.

&#8220;At least I&#8217;m a happy fool.&#8221; The man said laughing. &#8220;Now&#8230;.hmm&#8230;&#8230;aha!&#8221; He muttered, spotting the sole, odd table that remained intact from the fight. &#8220;Come! Sit with me.&#8221; He said, dragging Isis along. The two made their way to the small oak table and collapsed into a seat. &#8220;Now lets talk!&#8221;

&#8220;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;..&#8221; The woman remained silent, eyes glued to the floor.

&#8220;Alright then- I&#8217;ll talk.&#8221; The man said, not letting the woman&#8217;s depressed mood get to him. &#8220;If I heard correctly, those men were mercenaries- wouldn&#8217;t surprise me, after all. But anyways, they were hired by some cult right? The Arterians?&#8221; He said comically.

&#8220;Aterians.&#8221; Isis said dully.

&#8220;Alright. Now I&#8217;ve worked in this tavern all my life.&#8221; The man said slowly, keeping his eyes glued to Isis&#8217;s blue pupils. &#8220;Naturally, being in my occupation, you hear a lot from the customers. Gossip, rumors, politics, you can name it and I&#8217;ll have heard of it. Except of these &#8216;Aterians&#8217;, that is.&#8221; The man explained. &#8220;I haven&#8217;t a single clue about who, or what , these people are- but I do know of some people who would. Friends of mine, you would say.&#8221; The old man said with his trademark smile.

Suddenly Isis started to pay attention to the old man&#8217;s ramblings. &#8220;Who?&#8221;

&#8220;The Sisters, of course.&#8221; The man said with a wink.

And all the hope that was beginning to grow in Isis&#8217;s heart died in an instant. &#8220;Are you kidding me?&#8221; She asked, sighing slightly. The old man had apparently gone senile in his old age. The Sisters[1], or the Sisters of Fate, were nothing more than myths.

&#8220;Of course not. The Sisters are everyone&#8217;s friends.&#8221; The old man said, eyes sparkling. &#8220;Now I know what you&#8217;re thinking- I&#8217;m not senile. Rather, I&#8217;m&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;.experienced.&#8221; The man said, struggling to find the words for once. &#8220;You see, many years ago when I was in the prime of my youth (such a long time ago), I was traveling from Parada to here when I was robbed and left to die on the side of a road. But I was robbed of an honorable death, you see, for it was not my time. Somehow I clung to the very strands of life that sought to escape me.

I stumbled through the mountains, barely conscious of my movements. I&#8217;m not sure of how long I was trapped within that state, but what I do know is that eventually I did fall into the cold grasp of death- only to be reawakened some time later by the Fates. Naturally, as the Fates appear to one on an individual basis, they appeared to me and spoke of things that I couldn&#8217;t even comprehend at the time. It was if I was dreaming, but it was no where close to being a dream. Some time later, I awoke to find myself on the road once more- clothed, healed, and refreshed. I was truly saved by the Sisters. I thank them to this day for their intervention. And hopefully, you too will be able to thank them some time in the future.&#8221;

From that day, Isis headed north following the roads and heading to where the old man instructed- Lavron. The land was reputed to be an oasis of wilderness, a refuge of wilderness in the increasingly civilized world. It was there, the old man believed, Isis would find the Sisters. Three weeks after departing Isis arrived at the spot that could only be where the man believed Lavron to exist- a small stone door built into the mountains- a small passage way into the wildernes. It led deep under the mountain, twisted through a series of passage ways, before finally leading back up. It was here that fate determined for Isis&#8217;s third life to end.
 
Fourth Life

After raising the courage from deep within, Isis slowly pushed the thick door open and stepped out into a different world. The last two years that she had traveled were locked in winter, freezing weather and snow trailing her every move. The sun, the few times it had decided to brave an appearance in all those times, barely provided enough heat to keep her going, much less keep her warm in those years. The land was constantly within the icy grip of the Ice goddess Shimal, the ground nothing more than a barren wasteland.

However, here in Lavron, it seemed it was the complete opposite: it was if snow itself was banished from the realm. The sun scorched the grounds from its position high in the sky, delivering unlimited warmth to the flower-covered grounds. The picturesque land even possessed the sounds of a babbling brook some where off in the distance. The sounds of birds and other wildlife rung out from every corner of the golden lands, evoking dormant memories of her previous life.

Isis stumbled out of the cold cave into warm lands, shuddering a final shudder before bathing herself in the warm rays. The woman stumbled through the land, following the guiding sounds of the sweet brook. From a small rocky outcropping the girl dipped her face into the refreshing waters, letting the smooth waters run. She pulled her dripping face up from the cool liquid, and with a deep intake, spotted a young figure in a distant meadow. Losing that breath, the girl ducked behind the rocks. A beat passed before she stuck her head out and peered at the girl from behind the jagged rocks.

To Isis&#8217;s shock, there were three, not one, figures dancing through the meadow. Through they varied in looks; they all had one thing in common: they were young, joyful females. One was decked out in light, flowing aquamarine robes of the finest cloth, she possessed fine blond silken hair, and wore a small reef of daisies upon her head. The second look as if she was slightly older, standing a few inches taller than the youngest. She wore a crown of poppies upon her brow, possessed short black hair, and had a jagged nose. The third, appearing to be the middle standard, was gently tugging on the stems of a few tulips. She wore a bracelet of the flowers around her wrist, had medium fiery red hair, and wore light green robes. Isis could barely stifle a gasp as she realized who the trio was.

The youngest of three spoke up, a hint of sweetness ringing in her voice: &#8220;I do believe that we are not alone, my sisters.&#8221; The youngest said, catching a fleeting glance of Isis cowering behind a rock. The three girls ceased to dance and slowly made their way to the outcropping, the younger two bearing smiles while the oldest bore a frown.

&#8220;Who do you think she is, Ader?&#8221; The middle child asked slowly, taking Isis&#8217;s appearance in.

&#8220;A pauper from the looks of her. Maybe one of those followers of Theosi?[2]&#8221; The oldest said, scowling at the woman. The oldest suddenly harshly inhaled, staring at Isis with a look of shock. &#8220;Do you think it is her, sisters?&#8221;

&#8220;It couldn&#8217;t be.&#8221; The middle child scoffed. &#8220;We&#8217;d have known of her entrance to Lacon- the very strings of existence would be alight if the One was in our presence. She must be someone else sisters.&#8221;

&#8220;Why are you here child?&#8221; The oldest asked quietly, using the word loosely despite the fact she appeared younger than Isis. However she got no answer. Not because Isis was holding out, but rather because the woman couldn&#8217;t answer. The girl shook with fear, the shivering cold brought out from its dormancy. It wasn&#8217;t everyday, after all, that one would meet the Sisters of Fate- Adar, Cavad, and Razi. The three goddesses that was responsible for the very existence of the world and everything in it. It was enough to unnerve the strongest willed man, much less a battle-weary warrior.

&#8220;I dare say that she&#8217;s a bit put off.&#8221; The youngest said with a smirk. Seconds later the girl had unexplainably knelt beside Isis, staring at crimson stained sword. &#8220;Where did&#8230;.you get that?&#8221; The girl murmured, slowly reaching out for the blade. &#8220;My&#8230;.my&#8230;&#8230;.what the strings dictate&#8230;.&#8221; She whispered, smiling. &#8220;I do say that this is&#8230;&#8230;the most remarkable of things to happen for a while.&#8221; The two other girls, after spotting the blade with an &#8216;ooh&#8217;, nodded in agreement. &#8220;Come- lets get her warmed up sisters.&#8221;

&#8220;No&#8230;.I&#8217;ll be fine.&#8221; Isis muttered, attempting to shake the fears away.

&#8220;Well, that&#8217;s good. Now we can talk.&#8221; Cavad, the middle child, said with a laugh. &#8220;Don&#8217;t worry- many mortals faint the first time they see us. It is good that you can still talk.&#8221; She said with a smirk. &#8220;First, as I&#8217;d doubt you&#8217;d need us to introduce ourselves, you can tell us who you are and what exactly you&#8217;re doing within the borders of our realm.&#8221;

Isis grimaced at the possibilities. &#8220;My name is of little importance to you. Its what I need you help for that we should be talking about.&#8221;

&#8220;Of course.&#8221; Razi mutter with a dry grin. &#8220;After all, you don&#8217;t introduce yourself to everyone else you meet.&#8221;

&#8220;Enough Razi- we have more important things to discuss- such as how you took possession of the particular blade.&#8221; Cavad said, eying the silver blade.

&#8220;It was my husband&#8217;s greatest possession.&#8221; The woman said low. &#8220;He inherited from his father and from his grandfather and such on.&#8221;

&#8220;Interesting&#8230;&#8230;.&#8221;Adar said.

&#8220;What&#8217;s so special about it?&#8221; Isis inquired.

&#8220;&#8230;&#8230;.That is not our place to tell. It will be for you to find out later.&#8221; Razi said quickly before anyone else could reply. &#8220;Let&#8217;s get to why you&#8217;re here- Ares.&#8221;

&#8220;He awaits you to the north of Parada. Head northwest from here for three days, then take the mountain path. You will arrive before the god&#8217;s palace. You may attempt to defeat him, but be warned that not everything is as it seems.&#8221;

&#8220;Yes- you should be careful of those who you deal with.&#8221; Adar agreed.

&#8220;Defeat Ares. Take his power- and you revenge. And all will be good.&#8221; Cavad said solemnly.

Following their instructions, Isis made her to the Palace of Ares.

The palace glimmered in the moonlight, sitting on the hill foreboding the entrance of mortals. A long set of ivory stair winded their way up and around the hill and lead towards the immortal palace. And for the first time in a long time, Isis stood still. The woman couldn&#8217;t bring herself to tear her eyes away from the majestic site- it was if she was a moth drawn to a flame. With the moon beckoning her, she quietly walked up the steep stairs and stopped before the large oak doors.

A thin line of text was carved into the wood- &#8220;Tyan avare beas juno&#8230;&#8230;.. &#8220;Beware all those who enter&#8221;&#8230;&#8230;. the old tongue. Isis slowly placed her hand on the door grove and drug the large oak open, stepping inside the dim palace.

Isis crept through the darkened palace without making a sound, the curved point of Tajeal propped in the air to ward off the spirits- it was a horrendous crime from a mortal to enter the realm of the gods. Any other mortal would have been shaking in their tunics, scared to death of being caught trespassing .But it mattered not to Isis as the mere memory of her family was enough to keep her moving through the gods&#8217; domain.

The moon hung low in night sky, illuminating the murky hall through the man open windows that lined both sides of the connecting hallway. The walls were made of a pure, pitch-black marble with a line composed of white ivory-like material running down the middle of the marble. Thick squares of the marble had been cut out to portray windows and a single ram&#8217;s horn was lodged above each window on a peg.

She quietly made her way down the hall and cautiously stepped into a large, open round room. The floors, previously cast from granite, merged into an open courtyard paved with thousands of different stones lining the floor. The moon waxed with the passing of time- it had been some uncountable hours since she had entered the gods&#8217; realm. The girl noticed that the room had only one entrance and exist- the small door leading back to where she had just come from. Isis shuddered in the cool air as a vicious cold wind snapped into the courtyard.

Her head snapped back as time literally stood still. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled with an odd sensation, and with a look of horror on her face, she turned around to face the entrance she just came from. The sound of the beast charging couldn&#8217;t be compared: it was unknown to even her ears- it was if a thousand warriors had shouted at once, deafening her ears. The beast pounded along the marble (and the cobbled floor), charging at a breakneck speed at Isis. It stood taller than any man Isis had ever seen- around the height of a standard man and a half. The creature was covered in a thick layer of red fur, giving him the illusion of a hairy beast. Two thick horns sat on top of a bald crown, moving in the dim light. The foul beast carried a forked spear in his right hand that he swung at the girl&#8217;s head. Isis fell to the side of the beast, collapsing on the ground to avoid the tipped blades of the spear while the beast charged across to the other side of the room before coming to a stop.

Ares turned around slowly, his fickle horns wiggling in the moon light. &#8220;So you have come now, have you?&#8221; He said with a hearty laugh. His red beard shook with the motion, dark blood red hair moving with the movement as he gave the woman a look-over. &#8220;I have heard of you woman from the Fates their selves.&#8221; He spat, slowly stalking her in a circle. His hooves pounded against the cobbled ground and against the deafening silence. &#8220;I have heard how you survived the attack on that pathetic village. I have heard how you survived your first fight with barely that cut on your cheek. I have heard how you have fought your way through the Aterians without so much as a cut! I have heard how you have waged war on the very gods themselves- many amazing feats for anyone, much less a woman.

You are an amazing woman, you know that right Isis? In fact, it sorrows me a great deal to send you to the underworld and to damned Parys- he gets too many of my good warriors these days.&#8221; Ares said with a laugh. &#8220;But a promise is a promise, you know? Maybe you shouldn&#8217;t have promised to kill me!&#8221; He said breathily, laughing under his voice. &#8220;So now Isis, great Warrioress of the Fates, prepare to join your damn family in the underworld!&#8221; Ares yelled, charging the woman with his three-headed spear.

Isis grunted as she rolled to the left once again, dodging the vicious point of the spear. Ares stopped right beside her and swung the forked spear in a vengeful downswing. Isis managed to parry the blow with vengeance at the last moment, smashing the sword against the end of the pointed blade. Seconds later she slammed her foot into the monster&#8217;s gut, send him reeling.

&#8220;Grrrrr&#8230;..&#8221;The beast growled. &#8220;Just die, you insolent whelp!&#8221; He roared, slamming the trident across the stone floor.

&#8220;Ngh!&#8221; Isis grunted, rolling out of the way before slamming the tip of her sword into Ares&#8217;s foot. The monster howled before slamming the tip of his other foot into the woman, sending her sliding across the stone floor. The girl quickly jumped up from her position on the cold floor and charged the beast once more- not letting him get his breath back. Seconds later she had launched another flurry of assaults on the fiend.

The monster snarled before smashing his brutish fist directly into the woman&#8217;s stomach, stopping her at once. The brute followed up with a swift jab from the silver trident against her left leg, sending the searing metal points coursing into her ivory flesh. The silver sword clattered to the ground, a mere couple of feet from her left. The woman grimaced as the piercing pain.

&#8220;Not so cocky now, are you?&#8221; The fiend said with a cackle before twisting the metal deeper. A yell of agony echoed through the stone room. The beast bore a wicked grin as he twisted the silver trident and jerked it out with one fluid motion. &#8220;Time&#8217;s up.&#8221; He said simply, raising the spear above the wincing woman&#8217;s neck.

Time slowed to a stop once more as the beast slowly dropped his spear at her neck. In a split second, an entire life flashed before the woman&#8217;s eyes- from the earliest days of life to the Burning Village, to the last three years, and finally to the last three minutes. In, and in that flash, Isis realized what had kept her going all those years was about to slip from her grasp.

Gasping for breath, she quickly fumbled for the sword and managed a pitiful block with a loud clank . A second blow forced the monster back in his steps- a swift jab from the curved blade against the metal trident. The monster&#8217;s eyes staggered with shock as a flurry of jabs, swipes, and slashes was thrown against him. &#8220;Argh!&#8221; Ares howled again, eyes wincing from shock. Hyperventilating, Isis had managed the impossible- she had sunk her ivory blade deep in the beast&#8217;s shoulder. A brief second occurred as Isis stared deep into the monster&#8217;s eyes, as if searching for something.

The second died. And, with a snarl of vengeance, Isis hurled the blade with all the strength she possessed at the moment. The sword- lodged within the fiend&#8217;s shoulder- slid through meat, muscle, and tissue till it came out from the other side. A scream of anguish echoed through the room as the arm fell apart from the shoulder and clattered to the ground with a loud thunk . Time resumed to normal.

&#8220;ARGH!!!&#8221;The monster howled, eyes clenched and clutching the stub of an arm. And for those seconds Isis found what she was looking for in the fiend&#8217;s eyes. For the first time in his existence, the beast possessed a look of fright dwelling deep in his eyes. Clutching his stub, Ares smashed his horns down- blocking another jab from the silver sword. Despite seeming to wobble on his feet, the brute managed block another jab from Isis before smashing his horns directly into the woman&#8217;s skull, knocking her down to the floor and out cold. Seconds later the god of war had abandoned all forms of honor and fled the scene, escaping through the arched door. The moon continued to bathe the twitching stub in light.

Isis would awake several hours later to find her revenge stolen at the last moment. She followed a thick trail of blood out of the palace and down the hill. She realized in a moment where the beast had fled- to the Aterians within Parada. The woman hunted the beast down to the city, fighting her way through those who sought to aid Ares. Eventually the woman would once again face the beast within the compounds of the Aterian headquarters. This, however, would not be the same god. The once strong Ares had been reduced to nothing- a shivering, disorientated, panicky coward. It would be in front of dozens of Aterians that Isis would end the god of war and claim his power. It would be with this power that Isis would claim the right to rule the Aterians- and the city of Parada, forming the basics for the empire.




Fifth Life

Isis sat on her throne, deep within thought. It had been three hundred years since the times of Ares and peace now prevailed within her kingdom. Her reign was widely renowned for the strict laws and code enforcements introduced. Parada had grown under her tutelage, improving from the crime-ridden city to a respectable capital. The country was truly growing under her wise rule. The one-time villager was now the most respectable Queen in the world. Isis had it all- wealth, power, and a true legacy; all the things a ruler should want. But something was wrong.

Isis was not happy.

The woman was becoming increasingly unhappy with her life. Despite all the success she had had, things had begun to change in the last fifty years. At first it was an isolated occurrence- a man had, in a fit of rage, slain his wife in public. He was quickly executed for his horrendous crime, but it turned out to be a sign of things to come. In the following weeks ten different women were murdered- all by raging husbands. That didn&#8217;t even mention the sharp increase in the amount of normal murders among the population.

And lately Isis was beginning to feel that everything was not as it seemed- that there was an underlying reason for all this senseless death. As if there was some figure standing behind it all, laughing at her attempts to quell the unending thirst for death. Some figure Isis just associated with the misty thoughts swirling in her crowded mind.

&#8220;My Lady,&#8221; A voice rang out, shaking the woman from her thoughts, &#8220;Imperator Gaeani is awaiting you in your office.&#8221; The servant said quietly before retreating from the room.

&#8220;Tell him I will be there soon Gacz.&#8221; She said, speaking to the young servant standing the doorway.

&#8220;Yes my Queen.&#8221;

Isis smiled for a moment with the irony of the name she bestowed upon her kingdom.- Ibe, drawn from the word for &#8220;mother&#8221;. The woman couldn&#8217;t imagine a more suitable name for the kingdom that had fostered so much civility in the world- already tiny states were already beginning to sprout up around Ibe&#8217;s borders. That was the main reason Isis had invited the general to her compound- there were an annoying little tribe on the western border, the Pithas, which had recently moved into the region and was threatening the established folk.

Sure- it was beneath her to give military advice to a general, but only a fool would stay in their position. She had requested the general to meet with her on this day, ordering him to arrive in Parada. She made her way silently through the stone walls towards a large office set off a couple rooms away. To her irk, the general was standing inside the room, with the door thrown wide open. To further her annoyance, the general was relaxing in her private chair.

&#8220;Good morning my Queen.&#8221; The general said quietly, bowing before the ornately dressed woman. &#8220;It is a pleasure to see you on this day.&#8221;

&#8220;Cram it Gaeani- you should know by now that nice talk will get you nowhere.&#8221; The woman snapped. Despite his abilities, and natural talents that far exceeded all of those of her minor generals, Gaeani was enough to bring her out of the best of moods. The man was conceited, and too often spoke of the great education he had attained- as if throwing it in her face each and every time. It was a popular irk in the city that the Queen was uneducated and, under the guidance from several of her ministers, had begun to take courses to appease her more educated citizens.

&#8220;I apologize my Queen, but I&#8217;ve gathered the reports that you equested.&#8221; He said, sliding a couple sheets of papyrus towards the woman. He stopped with the papers halfway across the table. &#8220;Oh. That&#8217;s right- you can&#8217;t read can you? Would you like for me to read it to you?&#8221; He said with a smirk.

&#8220;I would like for you to take your ass out of my seat and get out.&#8221; She fumed. Unknown to the egocentric man, she had mastered the art of reading Ibeian some days ago under the guidance of her financial minister.

&#8220;As you wish my Queen.&#8221; He smirked again before exiting the room.

&#8220;:Hmmm&#8230;&#8230;.&#8221; The woman muttered, running a finger through her lengthened ivory hair. The sheets were a compilation of recent reports of the strength of the Pithas tribe. Recent numbers of population, strength in arms, and numbers of pages describing whether or not the Pithas would become a problem for the kingdom.

&#8220;Nice play you have here.&#8221; An old voice spoke out, ringing with happiness. Isis&#8217;s head whipped up, startled with shock- no one was allowed within the Imperial compounds without her approval, and she had given none except for Gaeani and the servants. The breath filed out of chest as she found out who had invaded her silence.

It was the old man from the tavern standing before her with a smile on his face. He had- just like Isis- aged little over the last two hundred years and appeared to be in the same condition as before- happy and content. He eyed her from the door, smiling broadly as the wheels in the woman&#8217;s head spun.

&#8220;How?&#8221; She asked quietly, staring in awe. The man should be dead, not standing in front of her like it was nothing.

&#8220;How what?&#8221; He replied winking.

&#8220;How the hell are you here?&#8221;

&#8220;Oh, I don&#8217;t know,&#8221; He said, tracing a finger along the stone wall. &#8220;Luck, I guess.&#8221;

&#8220;But&#8230;&#8230;&#8221;She stammered for a lack of words. &#8220;What are you doing here of all places?&#8217;

&#8220;Of course I&#8217;m here, what did you expect? Ares?&#8221; He said with his own, distinct laugh. &#8220;I never did get the chance to thank you for all the assistance you gave me. I mean- you were the one who destroyed the only one holding back my progress.&#8221;

&#8220;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;You tricked me&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;It wasn&#8217;t Ares who sent the Aterians, was it?&#8221; She said slowly, drawing from his joyful manner. &#8220;You&#8230;.tricked them, didn&#8217;t you?&#8221;

&#8220;Of course.&#8221; The man laughed, his gray beard shaking. &#8220;You&#8217;d be surprised at how much credit people gave Ares for my work. That fool wasn&#8217;t anything special- just a useful pawn in the game of life. A pawn that could be discarded once I was done with him.&#8221; The old man chuckle.

&#8220;Just who are you?&#8221; Isis said icily, slowly pacing in a circle.

&#8220;Who am I?&#8221; The old man sniggered. &#8220;I&#8217;m surprised you haven&#8217;t figured it out yet. You&#8217;re beginning to make me think I over estimated you.&#8221;

&#8220;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8221;

&#8220;Alright! For the gods&#8217; sake, do you know anything?&#8221; The man said grouchily. &#8220;And here I was thinking that they taught you ignorant village folk about the gods. Perhaps the name Lokan would mean something to you?&#8221;

&#8220;Nothing at all.&#8221; The woman sneered at the egocentric god.

&#8220;Well good then- let me elaborate the issue for you.&#8221; The old man said laughing. &#8220;Lokan,&#8221; The man started ignoring the woman&#8217;s outburst, &#8220;Is the name given to me by you foolish mortals.&#8221;

&#8220;What exactly are you?&#8221; She said slowly, eyes narrowing.

&#8220;I am what I am.- Lokan.&#8221; He said running his long, brittle fingers along the stone wall. &#8220;I am ancient, without age if you must know. In fact, I&#8217;m older than Ease[3] himself- something you foolish mortals get wrong all the time. Talk about ego-bashing.&#8221; He sneered. &#8220;I am the shadows, young woman-the dark places where the ghouls hide and await their moments of glory. I am the dark places where evil ideas and hopes dwell and feed on mortal existences. The heartless lands where barbarity is the sole law. I am simply, my dearest lady, the complete opposite of Tardus[4] &#8221;

&#8220;Lokan&#8230;.&#8221; The woman whispered, neurons snapping. &#8220;Of course&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230; &#8216;Low god&#8217;. How simple.&#8221; She muttered, staring warningly at the man.

&#8220;Yes. It was quite nice of you mortals to give me that name- really did wonders for self-esteem. But anyways, I know you know of my ageless crusade against that high-and-mighty fool and his silly ideals.&#8221; He said, speaking of the War of the Gods[5]. &#8220;Initially, I was indeed winning and beating the oaf back to his old cave. But then you come along! &#8220; The man muttered, slightly angered.

&#8220;At first, I thought &#8216;I can use this to my advantage! She can get rid of that fool&#8217;s lapdog for me.&#8217; And so you did! And everything continued to go my way. Victory was actually within my grasp!&#8221; He shouted. &#8220;But then you got this damn idea in your head that you could rule! That because you were the one to rid Ares from the Aterians, that you had some claim to power! And you know what you did? You enforced the laws!&#8221; He vented, shaking angrily. &#8220;Do you KNOW WHAT I AM? I am disorderly! Chaos for the gods&#8217; sake! And here you were enforcing laws, putting down criminals, and stomping rebellions! You were hurting me, you know that? So now I must intervene before you cause any more damage.&#8221;

&#8220;That&#8217;s it?&#8221; Isis laughed, relaxed somewhat. &#8220;You expect to come here and destroy me? Just like that?&#8221;

&#8220;Of course.&#8221;

&#8220;My old friend, you&#8217;ve forgetting one thing- that I defeated Ares so many years ago.&#8221; She said with a slight grin.

&#8220;And?&#8221; The old man snarled., demeanor quickly changing.

&#8220;You should know Lokan,&#8221; The woman said, adding emphasis on the last word, &#8220;that a god defeated in battle transfers their powers unto that mortal.&#8221; She said smugly. &#8220;Basically when you sent me after Ares, you did not count on that- now did you? Now tell me what you&#8217;ll do- after all, you do know that no god can kill another god.&#8221; She said smugly as the man continued to smile again.


[1]&#8217;Sisters of Fate&#8217;- Three young females that, through their manipulation of the Strings of Existence, guided the world and its destiny. Among some of the highest respected goddesses, the Sisters were among the highest of the tiers of gods.
[2]&#8217;Theosi&#8217;- The God of Begging- chiefly associated with those believing that happiness in life was more important that work. A cult existed in the old ages of his followers dedicated to his calling.
[3] &#8216;Ease&#8217;- Called the oldest god in the Ibeian pantheon, chiefly attributed to the earth.
[4] &#8216;Tardus&#8217;- The high god attributed with order, justice, and goodness.
[5] &#8216;War of the Gods&#8217;- Basically Good vs. Evil.
OOC:Orders soon.
 
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