The advance of Tartarian tactics, strategy and technology, combined with the fact that the dwarves have survived for so long, poses a question I am unsure of how to answer. Without Divinity at their side, without the activation of the World-Core, the dwarves should have gone extinct long ago. The push against the Second Expedition proves that the power they have is monumental. Many times now, I have seen them even crack golems that were untouchable during the Great War. The fact they made it to the Core Holds shows off that they have the civilization strength needed to crush them.

  Skirmishing maybe? Were the dwarves used as the perfect practice partner for a civilization to practice war against? There is some logical connection to be made there, although I’m not particularly appreciate of the inefficiency.

  The simple fact of the matter is that we know too little of their world to be able to answer such questions. Yet of one thing, I am sure. They are a dog that has found cubs and played with their prey for far too long. The bear has returned home.

  - Excerpt from “Conclusions From the Second Expedition”, written by Goddess Kassandora, of War, on her way back with Levhen’s army.

  Helenna took a deep breath of the fresh air as she sat on a rock and watched the sun set in the distance. The Klavdiv celebrations had concluded, enough alcohol had been spilled to drown a small country, enough fires had been accidently set that they would have to start cleaning the air up, enough songs had been sung that now, the breeze and freshness of the cool wind in Doschia was the sweetest sound Helenna wished to here. She leaned and put her back against the stone and filled her lungs with the fresh air. How the soldiers of the Second Expedition managed it, she did not know. They must have forgotten what fresh air tasted like at this point. Helenna certainly had. She wasn’t claustrophobic and she enjoyed parties, after all, the title of the Goddess of Love needed a certain tolerance for such revelry. When it was decided that Klavdiv was large enough to hold a fireworks show underground, that had pushed her over the edge though.

  Some birds were singing in the distance, cars were driving along the motorway in the distance. Every sound was gentle. Every sound was far away. The Empire functioned nothing like that White Pantheon, people did their jobs and then they would have nothing to do and usefulness was merely expected rather than demanded. If Arascus wanted her to do something, then he would have told her the plan already. She could just sit, close her, rest and take deeps breathes of the air.

  “FUCK!” Malam immediately killed the moment, she threw an empty bottle of vodka through the field and watched it impale itself in the mud. Helenna watched the Goddess of Hatred scoff angrily, hands curled into fists on her hips, and make a sour face. Above, ducks were flying west. Malam turned to Helenna, the Goddess of Hatred had discarded her coat and now just stood in a white shirt and a skirt she had stolen from Helenna’s own wardrobe. That was annoying, but it would be annoying to listen to her complain about not sharing. “I’ve ran out!”

  “I realised that.” Helenna replied. So her time of rest was over. Maybe this is why Arascus had allowed them to always work together, just so that he could avoid dealing with Malam’s antics constantly. Of Love would not put it past him, this woman would drive anyone mad, no matter whether she was a daughter or not.

  “Why?” Malam hurled the word at Helenna and began to stomp over.

  “Why have you ran out?” Helenna asked. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Do you have some?” Malam asked.

  “I have my wine.” Helenna lifted her bottle to show it off. It was fine Rancais purple she had managed to sneak into the room that had been her temporary residence in Klavdiv. Malam’s eyes, entirely black, focused on it for a moment and she shook her head.

  “Don’t make me out to be some thief, I’m not going to steal your drink.”

  “Mmh.” Helenna said. “But you will steal my clothes.”

  Malam looked down at the black she had stolen from Helenna’s wardrobe. “I’m not stealing your wine though.”

  “You don’t like wine.”

  “Of course I do.” Malam said. “I like all drink.” Helenna just rolled her eyes. “And why should I bring clothes if you bring your own? Besides, yours are more comfortable.” Well of course they were. Malam could sew, but she only sewed to show off. It wasn’t even that she lacked for fashion, when Malam wanted to, she dressed up to a standard worthy of the title Of Hatred. But it was just that she was so fucking lazy.

  “Of course they are.” Helenna said. “They’re mine.” Malam stepped up a rock with the sort of dexterity that a woman who had just drank two bottles in the span of an hour shouldn’t be capable of. She didn’t even wobble as she stood in the way of the setting sun, legs wide, hands on hips, smile on her mouth, white hair falling down to her hips. “Move, you’re in the way.”

  “Look.” Malam gripped the edge of the skirt. “There’s so much room I had to tie it off.” She gripped the front of the skirt and pulled it forward. Helenna just stared at her. If this was some attempt to call her fat, then it wasn’t working.

  “We can’t all be gifted.” Helenna said, wiggling her own hips. “Take it up with fate if you’re jealous.” Malam blinked at Helenna for a moment and then chuckled.

  “Oh-ho-ho.” She laughed and sat down next to Of Love. “That was quick.”

  “Mmh.” Helenna said, she felt Malam lean her head down on Helenna’s shoulder.

  “What do you think?”

  “Of what?” Helenna asked.

  “I don’t know.” Malam said, smiling. She wrapped her hand around Helenna’s back into a hug. “A thousand years ago I told them we’d relight it.” There was a slight shrug. “It does feel good to live up to your own impossible word, doesn’t it?” Helenna just sat there as she thought over the question. That, she could not answer. That was a feeling she did not know.

  But she did know Malam. And she knew how to handle people in these situations. Helenna put her own arm on Malam’s back and stroked the woman’s spine, just as Malam had once told her she liked it. The Goddess of Hatred cooed in relief as the tension left her body. She needed a bath, she smelled of drink, she was heavy. Helenna didn’t really care at this point. “Well done.” She whispered. “You did good. I wouldn’t have kept it.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Don’t say that.” Malam whispered quietly. “Of course you would. We all would.”

  Helenna wasn’t prepared to argue with her right now. Let the woman make her statements. Helenna moved her hand around in a circle. “But it was you.” Helenna whispered.

  “It was Olephia and Iniri.”

  “Shut up.” Helenna said harshly. “You were there with them. The only reason Olephia and Iniri had any suns left to turn on was because you made sure they held.”

  “Irinika was there.”

  “Irinika did not manage keep them strong.” Helenna said. Finally to that, Malam had no answer. She just took a deep breath and relaxed as Helenna kept moving her nimble fingers around in a circle. They sat and watched the sunset. In the distance, lights travelled along a highway. Trains raced back and forth along tracks. Birds flew overhead. The air was clear, save for the stink of Malam. Helenna stopped minding it after a while.

  And once again, just as before, the moment was broken. Malam’s phone went off with a horrendous tune that sounded like an assault on the ears. Malam sighed and stood up to dig it out of her pockets. “What a way to ruin a romantic moment.”

  “What a way indeed.” Helenna agreed.

  “Oh look.” Malam swung her phone so that Helenna could see. “Kassie’s favourite little elf is calling.” Helenna saw the name: Iliyal Tremali. There was nothing she could say without cursing at this point, so she just remained silent as Malam answered the phone. “Hello Hello? For what reason do I have the pleasure of such a gentleman calling such a poor Goddess as myself?” She pulled the phone away and turned on loudspeaker.

  “That breaks policy.” Helenna said.

  “I don’t mind if you hear.”

  “We’re in public.”

  “Are we?” Malam asked. Iliyal didn’t say anything for a moment. Malam leaned into the phone. “Hello Hello? Malam to Iliyal? Any response?”

  The voice that came back was exhausted. “Are you done?” He asked.

  “Done what Iliyal? I can be done or just starting depending on what you need.” That statement made no sense, Helenna would have not bothered to ask for explanation, Iliyal somehow managed not to be taken aback by the confusing statement. He just launched straight into the proposal of what needed to be done. Helenna paid attention, she had to deal with Malam so much that it interesting to see how other people handled this downright atrocious creature.

  “You mentioned in Arika, you have a plan to buy us time. I can intuit what it is, but it’s not something that should be explained through a phone.” Ilyal stopped to start a new sentence but Malam still stepped in to comment.

  “I did indeed.” She said.

  “You said it can be activated whenever. What is the plan?”

  And Malam chose the moment to adopt a terribly patronizing voice and lecture the elf on language. “What plan little elf?” She asked to no one particular. “Don’t you know these phone lines could be tapped?” Malam chortled loudly.

  The question was ignored. “What sort of timescale are we working with?” Malam looked at Helenna and clicked her tongue, probably in frustration that she got no rise out of him. But she did answer finally.

  “It can be done whenever. Tartarus will respond quickly, they’re a proper military force, aren’t they? Aren’t you the military commander who should be vouching that their a proper enemy and not just rabble?”

  Iliyal did not take the bait. “I just want to know your timescale because I’m basing my timescale off that. And to answer that question, I do vouch that they are an organised force.”

  And all joy and humour in the Goddess of Hatred left the Goddess as easily as it was for one to snuff a candle on the dinnertable. Her smile dropped. Her pitch black eyes focused. She even looked taller for a moment. This was the Malam that had always existed in Helenna’s imagination before she actually met the woman. “No.” Malam said coldly. “I base off you. It will take me an hour to get the documents ready and then a half-day to feed them to Tartarus. No more time than that.”

  Iliyal took a moment to reply. Helenna could practically see the elf thinking behind his desk throughout the phone. “Very well.” He said eventually. “I want it done as quickly as possible. It will take about three, four days for us to get ready here with everything here.”

  “Understood.” Malam replied. And then, her tone became jovial again. “So? What do you intend to do?” Iliyal took a moment to respond.

  “We compartmentalize for a reason. I’m just ringing you to ask you about the time.”

  “Excellent, what a good little elven soldier you are.” Malam cooed back into the phone. Iliyal’s sigh was so heavy that his microphone picked it up.

  “That’s all. Do your plan, I will start mine today. If you have any issues or slowdowns, then ring and tell me.” Iliyal said. He dropped the phone call just as Malam opened her mouth to say something else to him. The Goddess of Hatred rolled her eyes.

  “What a pleasant fellow.” She said sarcastically. Helenna had nothing to comment. It was satisfying to see someone so in control of himself and yet so demonstrably nonchalant and borderline rude to the Goddess of Hatred.

  “What is this plan?” Helenna asked. She wasn’t sure if she was allowed to know or not, but Malam seemed to keep little secrets from her. Malam just stared for a moment.

  “Why are you so satisfied with yourself?” A pointed question in a pointed tone.

  “Am I?”

  “Your hair is red with enjoyment.” Helenna quickly grabbed some of her own locks and brought them to her face. It was indeed a bright red of pure joy. Her eyes went back to Malam. Frankly, she wasn’t going to be put on the back foot again.

  The answer was dry and honest and everything it needed to be. “It was enjoyable to watch him dismiss you.” Helenna didn’t know what gear had twisted in her mind to speak like that, but something had. Malam just stood there, on the grass, the sun setting in the distance.

  It was the utter flatness of the tone, not the words themselves, that made Helenna’s hair go white and her cheeks turn crimson. “You make me want to devour you Helenna.”

  “WHAT!?” Helenna screamed and Malam was back once again, close and personal and jovial as if the woman was unable to comprehend what the word serious actually meant.

  “Do you even know who I am?” She brought out her phone and started browsing her gallery. She found something eventually and click it to show to Helenna. Of Love leaned in, her hair turning into a concentrated grey. It was a joint statement with several photos attached. Some of Arascus and Anassa standing and talking with Fortia and Maisara. The conversation looked serious. They were in some old room, a human girl was sleeping in a chair, before an unlit fireplace. “Do you like those?”

  “Where is that from?”

  “A week ago.” Malam replied coyly. “And read their statement.” Two lines was all that Helenna needed to conclude it wasn’t real. Maisara and Fortia were not allowing Imperial forces to use Khmet as a staging ground to breach into the Ashlands, that simply did not and would not happen. Helenna would have known already if such a scheme was going on.

  “That’s not real.”

  “It sounds like them.” Helenna said. “Did you write it?”

  “Who else?” Malam scrolled to the signatures. Both Maisara’s and Fortia’s done in perfect form, with all the curls and flicks that the Goddesses usually used when they signed a document. “What about these?” Malam asked, her tone smug and laced with pride at her own work.

  “Those look good.” Helenna stared for a moment. “Those look perfect even.”

  “I should hope so.” Malam said.

  “Why?”

  “They signed it themselves.” Helenna’s mind short-circuited for a moment as her hair went white with shock. Malam did not get Fortia or Maisara to sign something like that. It was impossible! Things like that simply did not happen. Helenna was one of the highest heads in the Empire here! True that Arascus was the boss, but he had not mentioned much about save the fact that they needed passports and for Fer to be sent to follow. They were being treated as tourists which were not to be disturbed and nothing more!

  “No they didn’t.”

  “Not this note, true, but those signatures are their own.”

  “How did you even get them?”

  Malam just chuckled to herself. “How indeed Helenna. How indeed?”