…Kami Miyako…Raymond's home…after Zesshi's defection…

He wept for days when Zesshi left, his depression was deep, and nothing seemed to comfort him, not the matronly warmth of Berenice, not the concern of his loyal servants, who cared deeply for the master of the house. Not the hand of Cardinal Ginedine on his shoulder pleading for him to think of what they should do next. Their conversations with one another had been long, but always centered around one of two things, either Zesshi or the elves.

Alone one day, he chose to try for the impossible. To reach out to his comrade on the other side of the fighting, and to do this, he chose to write a letter…

Dearest Zesshi Zetsumei,

It is my hope that this letter finds you well and happy, for despite everything that transpired, I have always, and will always, value your friendship and your comradeship. I do not write this to you to excuse my nation or its actions, nor do I write this to you to offer excuses for myself in all the ways I failed you when you needed me most, and I do not write this to plead for your return.

Instead I write to you to beg your forgiveness. I gave no thought to the state of the elves, or to the inevitable and inescapable truth that you would sooner or later, be brought to the battlefield to slay your own blood, big and little siblings alike, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews. I can plead only ignorance of thought in dire times and say that when you brought it to my eyes, I tried to make things right.

With recent events being as they have been, I do not expect this all to end well for my nation or for myself, things since your departure have grown worse, I live in a nightmare as Dominic grows ever more powerful and influential within the city, yet despite this, I have been doing my best to make amends to you from afar, daily I send my servants to the slave auctions, and I seek to purchase elf slaves, seeking most especially after those who are related to the elf king, and are therefore your brothers and sisters. With the scriptures all gone off to the fighting, I was able to acquire their training facilities, barracks, and warehouses, and convert what I could into living spaces, I will not make everything right with you before I die, but I will at least have begun to. And if this war goes as it appears it may, then that end of mine may come by year's end.

Before that happens, you should know where your siblings can be found, so that a rescue effort can be undertaken, I cannot get them out of the city, but it may be that the Sorcerer King can. When my passing comes, I pray you grant these final efforts of mine to be sufficient to forgive me at my grave.

If it matters at all to you, then you should know that the eyes of Berenice and Ginedine have begun to open. Ginedine…you know how he is; he hides in his books away from the world, but at my behest he walked the slave markets, the brothels, the places where your other half was put to use. It sickened him Zesshi, he hunkered over my chamber pot and vomited repeatedly as he described what he saw, and he could not bear it. He has been proposing anti-cruelty measures left and right, but always he is blocked by a draw, I send my vote on these measures from the bed to which I am confined, and Berenice votes with he and I, but Dominic, Yvon, and Maximillian are able to keep any vote from passing that would change things.

Worse, daily Dominic is winning more people to his side, though we can block his worst measures with a draw, just as he can block ours, the population is growing ever more fanatical and the efforts of myself, Ginedine, and Berenice to counter this in public is failing. I greatly fear what the future holds for us if he wins over to much of the population to his views.

I…found one of your siblings in the market during one of my rare outings, a young boy who is certain of who his father is. I purchased your little brother from the slaver. Please know that that is a sentence I despise that I must write…and I brought him to my home. I removed his collar the moment my door closed and swore my staff to silence. As Berenice has spent much time with me, she has grown to know him, he is a sharp-witted boy, name Ananaeus, and they are quite fond of one another, she dotes upon him as one would a favored nephew. Daily she expresses regret for having failed to see what she did not only to you, but to your people, after a time I grew to trust her, and she has also begun to assist me in 'acquiring' elf captives from the market. Ginedine has not expressed the same sentiment himself, yet I believe it eats at him.

Yesterday he asked me, "Why would the gods choose as their favored people, any who could do these things…?" To which I could only say, "Perhaps they didn't." I have a firm and growing hope that I will soon be able to draw him in to the same effort as Berenice and myself.

Zesshi Zetsumei, my friend, my comrade, the daughter I never had, I am truly lost in ways I never imagined I could be, the only direction of which I am certain of is the direction that makes up for our wrongs towards you.

I do not know if this letter will reach you, as it will have to be dispatched in secret, and with enough coin paid to the messenger to let him retire for the rest of his natural life; as he must risk being detained by both our own forces, and being slain as a spy by those of the Sorcerer King…but if it does reach you, know that my thoughts are never far from you, and my regrets are never far from me.

Forever your comrade, no matter the battle lines,

Cardinal Raymond Zarg Lauransan

…Zesshi Zetsumei's command tent…

Zesshi was content, she might even be depicted as feeling a bit smug. She touched her armor, it was beautifully crafted material, solid black scale mail with a red chain painted around the body, the rune smiths had worked overtime to customize her equipment, tailored to her strengths, and she bore a scythe that the gods themselves would have envied, far exceeding the power of what she had thought was the penultimate weapon that she had previously held. Her black boots were adamantite laid over leather, and though she was not one for the bow, slung over her back was a half sized quiver which held darts. Her time in Nazarick exposed her to the fighting style of Black Justice, and she found that it was almost tailor made for her use, minus the bow, which she never favored. Though she adapted that by darts which she could throw with great strength. The Sorcerer King had even demonstrated his overwhelming divine might by freezing time, so that she might train with an instructor, though he refused to say how long it had been when she asked.

Now here she was, elf volunteers were flocking to her banner and every day they marched, they grew stronger. They were all very weak compared to her, however the chance, a real chance, at ending the nightmare that plagued their country, was all they really needed to give them the will to fight. So she would march them for twenty miles, drill them for hours with the assistance of a handful of Black Justice instructors following the guidance of something they called "The Blue Book" for how to maneuver their forces.

She had never had to really be responsible for anything, or anyone but herself, save for the occasional comrade on a mission, however now she found herself responsible for thousands of men and women, and that…did hurt her head a bit, however with some support from logistical officers, she found her feet little by little as they moved along. Daily they got better, and observing them from improvised raised platforms, she could not help but be impressed by the crispness of their motion, the confidence they gained in themselves, and the degree of unity that was forged among them, they did not fight vaingloriously for individual reputation, they had begun to act as fingers on a hand, each supporting the other in the forming of a fist.

For years they had lived in constant fear of their own king, now they lived with constant faith in a new one. For all their lives the Elf King had seemed untouchably powerful, now with Zesshi and the backing of the Sorcerer King, they believed he could be crushed under heel, their spirits grew and she began to see smiles form and bonds take shape, it made Zesshi smile more than a little too, for all her oddities, the members of the Black Scripture had been friends, comrades, and those bonds were not easily forgotten.

As she sat in her command tent, she drew out a quill and began to write…

Dearest Sister,

How I love that I can use those words, Aorli, I hope that this letter finds you on a happy day, with sun on your neck and a breeze in your hair. I have no doubt that you labor diligently for the wellbeing of our people, and I was overjoyed to learn that you had taken a place on the city council. I am certain that you will find yourself to be more than capable of fulfilling your obligations inherent in that role, and that you will gain the respect and confidence of your peers and subordinates alike. I, for my part, thrive in ways I never imagined. Life in Kami Miyako may not have been all bad for me, but far away, much removed from its walls, I find that a darkness is lifted that I never truly knew I was carrying within me. My time in the service of the Sorcerer King has been short thus far, but it has been proud. Our people are of vigorous spirit and eager to fight to drive out or destroy the elf king, and every day we draw closer to that goal. I drill them hard, and the assistants that Neia Baraja sent to me are beyond valuable. It seems so strange to me still, one of them is a vampire, and most of the rest are humans, and there are a handful of elves, to see us all in the same uniform, humans giving directions to elves, and the elves choosing to obey not because the humans will hurt them, but because the humans will make them stronger…I never imagined such a world.

And a vampire, becoming an advisor to me…I do not know which is stranger…that…or me taking on a role that required an advisor in the first place? I'm a battle maniac, only ever thinking of my next one on one challenge. It makes me laugh to think of it now, but perhaps having at last been defeated…yes it happened, the boy Mare…who oddly enough dresses like a girl, threw me around like a rag doll…perhaps having finally been defeated and having achieved half my desire has tempered me a little. At the very least I now know how Climb felt all those times.

Remember all the thrashings I gave that stubborn blonde runt? Well when the Sorcerer King called over Mare, I said I can't get pregnant by a girl, and in his high pitched girlish voice he said 'I'm a boy.' It was the single oddest moment of my life. I said, 'Bring it on little guy' and expected to be disappointed yet again.

Yet before I could even react, he was looking up at me with those beautiful heterochromatic eyes of his and he'd smacked me in the face with his staff. I went sailing back wondering exactly what had just happened, even while I was jumping back up to my feet and activating every martial art I knew, he was already to me again, this time beside me and he swept his staff at the back of my knee, I tried to roll away from him only for him to smack me in the side of my head with the back of his hand and send me rolling away anyway. I'd never eaten dirt before…but let me tell you sister, even in the realm of the gods, dirt tastes like defeat!

I rolled onto my back and jumped back up and came at him with my fist, he'd somehow snatched away my weapon and thrown it behind him like a disposable rag…when my fist came close, he snatched my wrist and began to fling me around as if he were going to throw me like a stone in a sling, only to smash me on the ground…over and over again, until he asked the Sorcerer King how long he had to do that for. He sounded bored…BORED.

Now I know how I must have sounded to Climb, I'll have to give him an apology for calling him weak so often, I don't know what hurt worse, my body or my pride. Eventually this little elf boy in a dress decided to let go, and he chucked me all the way into the center of the lake, leaving me to trudge out of it wet, dirty, and barely able to stand, I hadn't even had both feet on shore yet when I saw him flying towards me again, his staff going towards my head once again, when the Sorcerer King called a halt, and I fell down, to my face, to tired and bruised to get up.

Mare was very nice about it, and healed me straight away, for a nervous sounding boy in a dress, he's very strong, and I can't help but wonder if this whole thing is some divine punishment for saying I didn't care how twisted the one who defeated me was…now I'm going to have to win him over to me when he grows up and I admit I'm wondering, should I be successful, that night will we both be taking off dresses…and who would look better in them before hand? I'd like to say Aorli, that I am joking about that last part, yet even though I want to say I am…I honestly do not know.

I admit it all still seems very strange still, but then, we live in interesting times, and those are almost always strange ones I should think. Though through all this, I think these strange times, these interesting times, these hard times, are going to bring about better ones, for all of us, and I just have to do my part to make sure that is what happens.

We'll reach No Man's Sea soon and taking ship from there to begin the end of things that were, and make something new, something better, over the foundations of the old. When everything is done, I will come to see you again, so until that time, stay alive, stay safe, and lets see this through together, even if we are many miles apart.

Your sister,

Zesshi Zetsumei

…Arwinter…Office of the High Priest…

High Priest Sudon was an old man who did not feel his age, having consumed a drink made from Idun's apples, he felt twenty or thirty years younger than he was, and that was the smallest of the miracles he had experienced in Nazarick. The art lesson alone…tens of thousands of years of human creation, all preserved in a divine realm that was like nothing any mortal could produce, the intricacy, the glory, the boundless knowledge…and the sacred text assembled by Neia Baraja…it was obviously an early version, one produced under the stresses of the conflicts in which she found herself, yet it spoke to his spirit in ways he had not expected, and behind it was a figure who was divinity made manifest.

The truth was he wondered why they were even bothering with a Synod, there was only one answer, a new god had descended to the world, and was creating a new golden age before his very eyes. If the vigor of his body held, as he believed it would, then he would live long enough to see it to its fruition.

It was with this in his mind that he sat down to write to his fellow priests around the empire. Months ago, the messages had all gone out, well before the war, and priests everywhere had been responding, even those not of the faith, the Argland council, had asked to send an observer, something the Sorcerer King had encouraged them to accept.

Now, as the months drew on, he felt the need to make his own position known, and so he sat down to write.

To my fellow priests, and to the faithful of the gods, I, Sudan of Arwinter, write to you today in the hopes that despite the harshness of conflict, your lives are not overly bleak and that you retain your optimism that this conflict will end and peace will return to the land.

Over the course of my years of life, I have always been devoted to the gods, not because the gods required me to be, or even because it was proper to venerate them, but rather because I served my people, all people, through my service to the gods, if gods have any purpose, it is the guidance of the people into what must be done to live rightly and well, and in providing their followers with the security and safety necessary to do so, or at the very least, providing the people with the strength and wisdom to secure themselves.

Perhaps to some of you this is a shock, yet why should it be? What would any god require from us that they could not provide for themselves, do we think the gods to be so petty and vain that they require veneration, worship, and submission simply for the selfish smugness of having those heaped upon them? Are they so weak and insecure that they require our constant praise lest they question their self worth? Are they so egotistical that they can think of no higher duty than to offer worship to they who, as gods, would not need it for any purpose?

No. I think not. Such beings would be thought of as base and degraded, petty beings if they were men, how much more lowly would such traits be if it came from beings we would call divine?

It is therefore incumbent upon us to think upon the lives of more fragile mortals, and ask what truly tends to them, and what it is to be a god in relation to mortal lives. Is a god not meant to be responsible? If so, then the Sorcerer King surely fits this role, did he not destroy the Demon Emperor Jaldabaoth? Where were the old gods when their followers called for aid?

Have you not read or heard the reports of the power displayed by the demon emperor, are these not far beyond the very beings that were called demon gods themselves? Yet the Sorcerer King defeated him, and did so easily when at full power, and did he not sacrifice of his power to protect humanity from the demon emperor's wrath? What other measure of power need there be than what was done for humanity on the day of their deliverance?

I have moved through his realm and seen the ancient glories of humanity, works of magnificence that are thousands of years beyond our memory, all preserved in his divine abode, showing me the belief he holds in the promise of our future and of ourselves, it is one thing my fellows, to believe in the power of a god. But it is a whole other thing entirely to have a GOD THAT BELIEVES IN YOU!

That is what we stand to gain if we do the only thing that needs to be done, confirm the truth that so many have already seen for themselves! Those who call themselves Black Justice, the followers of Neia Baraja, were the first to see what should be clear to all of us, that he who has the power of a god, who makes the choices of a god, who takes the role of a god, who is a river of life and learning and hope for all his followers, who stands at the pinnacle of wisdom and sagacity, must surely be a god. How can he be all the things that a god is…and yet not be a god? I ask you this as I had asked myself, and came to no other answer but that he must surely be one.

I do not pretend to know where he stands with the six, if he is another god entirely or if he truly is greater than they as his many followers have come to assert, but I do know this…

That all the things the six are said by history to have done for humanity…he is doing again, bringing prosperity and peace to his people, bringing strength to his followers, and he is doing it not for one corner of the world, but rather he is doing it for all the world we know.

That is god enough for me.

Forever faithful,

Sudon, High Priest of Arwinter

AN: Well its been awhile since I did a Memory & a Message update, I thought it was time, this one is the toughest one to update because it is a retrospective story, and I need lots of events to happen before one of these chapters can be written, otherwise I'll create spoilers. Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it. If you appreciate the effort that goes in to these stories, you can donate to my charity organization bdgiving dot org, and if you want early access and other fun stuff like live reading sand a supportive and positive community of fellow Overlord fans, you can join my discord server.