There are plenty of Divines are out there. Some are grand, such as Arascus or Allasaria, some are destructive, such as Baalka or Olephia, some operate seemingly on instinct, such as Fer, some are respected by all, such as Helenna or Kassandora. Yet most are weak, little more than spirits contained to a geographical location. A unique phantom of some valley that is officially Divine, yet should really not be.
Nevertheless it does not matter whether one of this is the conglomerated entity bearing the power of a grand abstract idea, or some miscellaneous invention. Divines vary greatly, yet there is one experience that is truly unique and omnipresent to the Divine experience.
Profound, ageless, loneliness.
It is a simple case of agelessness. I am certain that every single one of us has stories of building relationships with mortals that should have never been built. There is a saying that it is better to have loved and lost rather than never loved in the first place. This is made by mortals, who will eventually pass away. They simply do not understand what it means to live with fond memories of better times. Forever. Likewise they do not know what it means to live and know that any effort spent on a mortal is ultimately wasted. Centuries are slow and centuries certainly do not pass in the blink of an eye. Yet centuries pass nonetheless.
In that regard, I feel almost lucky that I have made a friend who managed to transcend her morality. I do not know if I have cursed her with a terrible fate, or if she has saved me from an even worse one.
- Excerpt from: “The Divine Condition”, written by Goddess Elassa, of Magic.
Arthur could not tear his eyes away from the situation right before him. Sarah, laying on the ground, red hair smattered about with blood, her bright-red high-visibility uniform which had been opened to reveal her stomach was half discoloured with the deep red of dark crimson that came from her open wound. The piece of rebar he had helped pull her off should have been the colour of steel yet it was the same crimson that had spilled out of her. And there were the two men who had dropped from the helicopter that had landed a distance away, on what had once been a car park for a mall that now was only a serious of walls and mounds of broken concrete. The terrible downdraft from its razor blades cleaned a space for it through the sheer strength of the wind it generated.
Arthur did not care about the helicopter though, he knelt by one of the two men. Green undershirt, grey-blue coat that was lined with orange edges. He had a sheathed sword and a pistol and that huge bag by his side. His hands were bloody. He had cut the woman open, healing her all the while, washed internal organs, and now was breathing slowly and deeply as he was closing her wound with his power. The other Cleric had finally sat up and was running off a checklist of things to check. They had been at this for more than an hour at this point. “Nerves.”
“Done.”
“Sinew.”
“Done.”
“Veins.”
“Obviously, she’s not bleeding.” The Cleric currently working on Sarah answered. Arthur looked around the squads of UNN volunteers, a few of them had pulled away although no one made any serious distance. Small groups had formed that were talking with each other. It had been a radical decision to call the Imperial ship, it had largely been choice. He wasn’t going to pretend that it wasn’t him who had forced Commander Noel into asking for help. But he didn’t regret a single damn thing. Sarah was saved. Whether the Clerics were Imperial or UNN or whatever nation they represented, they had still come to help. The Cleric working on Sarah took a deep breath, the sinew that made up her core had sealed itself, although the skin and outer layers of muscle had slowed its growth. Slowed, and then stopped entirely.
The Cleric finally pulled away, also breathing heavily. “I’m gassed.” He said, falling backwards to prop himself up on rubble with his arm. He finally looked around at, saw Arthur and a few other of the men watching him, and made an upwards nod with his head to recognize. “She’ll be safe. Don’t worry. She’s fine now.”
Arthur had no clue and no idea on what to say. He had just pulled this woman off rebar, she was still lying asleep, her chest was rising and falling and yet there was an open wound on over her stomach. It may not be bleeding and it may look stable, but it was still an open wound. And these men were saying she’d be fine? And yet, he believed them. One of the Rescuers from Sarah’s team, Harold, a man in his early forties, just slightly older than Arthur, broke the silence. He fell to his knees, got close to Sarah’s face. And sounded as if he was begging with gratitude. “Thank you. Oh Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, she’s not done yet.” One of the Clerics said from the ground. It was the one who had stabilized her at first, that man stood up and moved his arms as if trying to restore bloodflow to his limbs. “I’m Rudolf.”
“Otto.” The other Cleric said from the ground.
“Arthur.” Arthur gave the man his hand. The rest of the team introduced themselves too. Hands were shaken. Otto did not bother getting up off the ground as he breathed heavily and recovered. Arthur had to ask the question. He had heard of Imperial Clerics before, who hasn’t after all? A few years ago, there Holy Orders had been established all over the world. Arthur’s grandfather even had a story where his father had been healed by one of Kavaa’s blessed. And yet it was almost unbelievable. How could everything be healed? “Will she be alright?” He asked.
Rudolf did not even bother looking at the woman. “She’s paralyzed, if she wasn’t, she would be up and running by now.” He spoke quickly, hands patting all the pockets on his coat and on his trousers. “We’re going to heal her of course, but it’s a longer job.”
Harold overheard the Cleric. “You mean she won’t be able to move?”
“I mean she can’t move now but she’ll be up and running by the time the sun sets.” The man’s inspection of his pockets got more frantic.
“Have you lost something?” Arthur asked.
“I’ve left my smokes on the ship.” The Cleric said and Arthur felt his jaw almost drop open. This was an Imperial Cleric, this was one of Kavaa’s blessed. This man was supposed to be a paragon of health. This man was a paragon of health who could drop from helicopters and jump down heights worth several stories. Arthur had seen the man do that. He had seen the man close up a wound on Sarah by doing nothing more than laying his hands on her. And now he was asking for a smoke?
“I got mine idiot.” Otto said and pulled out a pack.
“You two smoke?” Arthur asked as Rudolf leaned down and took a cigarette from Otto’s back. It was a back of expensive Rancais Gaullo’s. The short, fat and wide ones.
“Do, do you have a lighter?” Rudolf asked.
“What fucking swill for brains!” Otto shouted. He threw a lighter through the air and Rudolf caught it with perfect reactions.
“So you’re having a smoke now?” Arthur asked.
“Breaktime.” Rudolf replied. Arthur did not know whether the man was rude or arrogant or whether he deserved to be. This was how Imperial Clerics acted? They smoked on the job?
“And you’re not worried about your health?”
“I’m immune.” Rudolf replied as Otto lit up his own cigarette and lay back down, taking a long drag as he rested. Rudolf smiled smugly at Arthur and chuckled to himself. “It’s the best part of the power. You’d smoke too if every drag was like the first one.” Arthur just shook his head.
“Well thank you either way.” Commander Noel saw the conversation and walked close to join in on the talk.
“We all thank you, Imperial Clerics.” The Commander said.
“What formality, fucking Hell.” Rudolf said. “Just Rudolf is fine.”
“Or your Highness.” Otto said from the ground. He was lying on his back, a trail of smoke slowly snaking to side in the cold breeze, hands behind his head to act like a cushion. Arthur still struggled to believe that this man was the one who had just healed Sarah.
Noel and Arthur shared a look. The rest of the UNN team members were just as taken aback. When Arthur had asked demanded that they call Imperials for help, he had been acting in the moment to save a life and nothing else. And now, as he stood with two Imperial Clerics here, he didn’t really know what to do or say to them. The two men weren’t conversationalists either, they were just looking around on their smoke break. A smoke break in the middle of healing a paralyzed woman… It still made Arthur want to gawk. “Was it difficult?” Harold asked curiously. He pointed down to Sarah. “To heal her, I mean?”
“It’s tiring.” Rudolf replied and shrugged. Otto remained silent. “And like I said, she’s not ready yet.”
“Do you heal like this all the time?” Another UNN rescuer spoke up. A girl called Mia.
“Not broken spines.” Rudolf replied.
“Usually it’s flus and hangovers.”
“I don’t do hangovers.” Rudolf said. “Unless it’s urgent but it’s usually not.”
“I don’t either.” Otto added. “But that’s the most common I get asked for.” And once again, Arthur was lost for words. He had not expected them to be so… worldly. He wanted to thank them again, simply because he didn’t know what to say, but the Commander saved him from speaking.
“Do you need anything for this?” Noel asked. “We would hate to be in your debt.” Rudolf raised his hand, shook his head and Otto answered verbally.
“Give me your daughter’s hand in marriage and we’re even.” A few of the men in red fatigues laughed.
Rudolf quickly corrected his partner. “It’s our job. Don’t worry about it.”
“We really can pay, anything, for our own conscience.” Noel said and Rudolf shrugged.
“Sort it out amongst yourselves if you really need to buy your own calm. I don’t charge. Like I said, this is our job.” Arthur had never seen a doctor like this. “Actually, there is one thing you can do.” The Cleric quickly interjected. He was almost done with his cigarette, and he started buttoning his blue-grey coat up. Those orange edges on the sleeves and the collar shined even in this measly sunlight.
“What?” Noel asked.
“Give us some space.” Arthur cracked a smile. That was the most polite ‘fuck off’ he had ever heard. The UNN rescuers all once again exchanged glances. It was obvious that the Cleric did not want to talk. A few remained in place and watched the man flick the butt of his cigarette away and return to place his hands on Sarah’s chest to continue the healing. Arthur himself peeled away. The Clerics were amazing, he had to admit to himself, but they weren’t conversationalists. His mind was filled with a thousand things to ask them about the moment he turned away and looked out over the ruins of Rockport.
A few buildings still stood. The town hall with its large, square tower. The library with its pointed roof. Several tower blocks which had their sides smeared with splashed mud. And then the rest of the ground was rough rubble. Mounds of rocks and bricks and sticks had built up naturally, were some large wreckage or a huge tree brought in from the valley had caught onto broken walls or turn up foundations. In the distance, that Imperial Ship was still working on pulling wreckage out of the water.
Arthur took a few steps away, close enough to be within earshot of the Clerics if they called out for assistance again, but far enough to give them the space they wanted. Commander Noel came to sit next to Arthur and the two men stared out onto the ocean. The silence went for a few minutes. Arthur was too tired to bother saying anything. Eventually though, the commander did speak up. “I have to apologize.”
“There is nothing to apologize for.” Arthur replied.
“She’ll live because of you.”
“She’ll live because of them.” Arthur said definitely. He absolutely refused to take credit for it, he did nothing anyway. It was the pair of Imperial Clerics who had come on time.
“So it may be so, but they only came because you were here.” Noel said. Arthur sighed and shook his head. It was not some triumph of his, he had just refused to let another die. The UNN had already lost too much to be so easy and forgetful with its own. But everyone thought the same, he was sure that Noel would even agree with him. It was a simple fact of the matter of what would be done about it? As long as Arthur saw a way to save another, he would take it, no matter who he had to work with. It was as simple as that.
The two men watched the ruins of Rockport. Two men had left the helicopter that had brought the Clerics and were talking with the pilot on that ruined car park. And… The shadow came first. A huge shadow of a long tube with two wings, the each the length of the central body, sticking out. Arthur looked up to see the huge silhouette of Aircraft-One, the mobile transport of the UNN’s government. He looked back at the Clerics, they did not even bother looking up at the aircraft, instead just focusing on healing Sarah.
“Now they turn up.” Noel said as Arthur looked back to Aircraft-One. The huge plane began a slow turn and released its cargo. Or rather, it released humans, bodies with arms and limbs and backpacks from which exploded parachutes. Yet it was the first body which had jumped out of the huge, four-engine plane that caught Arthur’s attention. At face value, there was nothing wrong with the woman falling, she had long hair and arms and legs and her own backpack. Her parachute opened up and she looked like a black spot in the dreary, grey sky. It was only in comparison to the other tinier black dots in the sky that the problem revealed itself.
She was too large to be human.
Commander Noel spoke what Arthur was thinking. “That may be trouble.”