There once was a time when I was feared, for my wrath brought ruin to entire civilizations. From the greenest soldier to the most esteemed general, all who practised the art of war knew my name and paid me tribute, for my favour ensured victory, my displeasure, ruin. Mortals worshiped me as the Lady of Strategy, Mistress of War, Luna Invicta: The Moon Indomitable. Many tales have been written about me, many hymns sung in honour of my glory.

“Good evening, citizens and plebs, subs and freeloaders!” I said, smiling brightly at the webcam as I began my usual spiel, “To another night of watching me horribly fail at Mythalia Online!”

This is not of those tales.

“Truth be told, I’d have never touched this game again due to my absolutely abysmal performance yesterday. But…” I sighed as dramatically as I could. “The people have spoken, and LadyAstair is nothing if not a gracious hostess.” I winked at the webcam for maximum effect.

Queen A too humble lololol

Salt must flow

Time to git gud

Dying simulator again for Ladytrash

And the chat goes wild. How predictable. I put on my best smile, and began another night of streaming.

“Ooh that’s quite the ambush you have there, Mr.Ganker, shame that it’s going to waste~”

“-It seems our team’s falling behind, well not to worry, our carry will come online any second now…”

“…And I just got one shotted. Again. This makes death number thirteen for those keeping score at home.”

“…Thanks for resubbing Mr.RavenWing, here’s to another year! Well looks like that’s all the time we have for today. My lovely citizens, and not quite as lovely plebs,” I laughed and winked, letting my viewers know that it was in good fun, “thank you once again for watching LadyAstair’s Game Stream, ’til next time!” I closed the stream,

“You miserable bunch of ingrates.”

And immediately slumped on my chair, cursing the world and all within it.

I glanced at my phone, surrounded by day old take-out boxes. My thumb dialed the number through muscle memory, and I made the call.

“That’ll be $12.99, ma’am.” said the youth in front of me. I felt his eyes on me, even as I fumbled in my pockets for my wallet. I wonder what he’s thinking? Did he have any inkling that this woman in front of him, with her black hair in a messy bun and dressed only in an oversized shirt, this woman who barely reached his shoulders was once goddess of an entire empire?

“I’d just like to confirm, this was made specifically for me, correct?”

“That’s what you’re paying extra for ma’am. Like always.”

“Thank you.” I gave him his money with a generous tip. I closed the door on him before he could reply.

I gazed at box in my hand, the stench of over fried rice was overpowering, and I knew that the taste would be even worse. This box in my hand contained a crude facsimile of Qin cuisine, seemingly constructed from so vague a memory that only the most overpowering flavours remained, that of soy sauce and oil. Luckily for me, I didn’t need to eat to survive.

I set the rapidly cooling cardboard box on my table, and reached out with my essence. A faint glimmer of satisfaction, an obligatory tribute, but a tribute nonetheless. A meal made for me, and only for me by a cook who, deservedly or not, took pride in his craft. It wasn’t much of an offering, just barely enough to make up for the faith I lost sustaining my existence for the day.

The computer screen glowed dimly in the darkness of my room, surrounded by boxes of takeout filled with uneaten food. If only my ancient worshipers could see me now, in this temple I built from scraps and refuse. But it was still my temple. And I was still a goddess.

I sank into my well worn chair, and gathered all the scraps of belief that my ersatz followers gave me, all the half-hearted praise, shallow admiration, and a glimmer of genuine adoration. It was barely enough to sustain my existence for another month, and that’s if I did nothing with it. Six thousand gods damned viewers, and that was all I could muster.

I focused my mind towards that pale light of true belief. “Ugh, Mr. XxXRavenWing342XxX, by the seven hills your name is ridiculous.” I focused my mind on that pale light of true belief, “Still you are faithful, and have been for quite a while.” I cast my mind into the Thoughtstream, felt my connection to the Domain of Battle, and created a decree. “May you triumph over your next adversary, whoever or whatever it may be.”

It was a small miracle, something that you might not even notice was made possible with divine intervention, but it was all I could do. My existence that was assured for a month will now only last for half the time.

I closed my eyes, willing the world to disappear, wishing that I could sink into the cold embrace of this gods forsaken earth. All in all, it was a typical Thursday night’s stream.

“You okay, sis?”

Her voice that was like a melodious bird song. Though dressed plainly, just a blouse and shorts, she was anything but. Flawless, fair skin, long blonde hair which, even in my dim fluorescent lighting, shone with a soft glow that framed her perfect body like a halo. A face whose piercing blue eyes and overwhelming beauty commanded both worship and fear; a beauty the could start wars, and actually did, lifetimes ago. Nothing less from the goddess of both beauty and war.

“Good evening to you too, Vanafreya.”

“No one’s called me that in centuries, Lulu.” She let out a sigh and sat down beside me. I smelled her perfume, Collection No. 6: La Belle Frey, she only wore that for special occasions.

“Guess I’m no one then, dear sister.” I turned my back to her, kept my gaze on my monitor.

“Seriously, what’s up? You’re not usually this snippy before fall.”

“Nothing is ‘up’, Vanafrey-”

“Bullshit.” She forcefully swivelled my chair and made me face her. “You only ever call me ‘dear sister’ when you’re miserable, and we’re nowhere near December. So either you’re starting your annual sulkfest, like, nine months early, or something is up. So talk.” Her intense gaze softened.

“Please? For me?” And my resistance crumbles as she pulls out her greatest weapon, the puppy dog eyes.

“Am I really so predictable?”

“We’ve been together for over 300 years now, I kinda learned to pick this stuff up.” she smiles playfully, “It also helps that my pantheon’s trickster was way better than yours. I’ve had a lot of practice picking out lies.”

“Don’t let Hydrargyrus hear you say that.” Despite myself, I couldn’t help but smile, which quickly soured as I remembered the night’s indignities.

“Why am I reduced to this, Vanafreya?” I said, “Performing like an animal, picking up whatever scraps of faith I could find from an audience indolents so far removed from any form of virtue that to call them worms roiling in mud would be a disservice. Both to the worms. And the mud.” My monitor’s screen cracked in the face of my divine word. My armrests bent under the weight of my grip.

“Would you look at that?” I said, even as my vision blurred and an unpleasant hotness dripped down my cheek. “Is this all I am now, Vanafreya? A goddess so impotent, so forgotten that my divine word can’t even destroy this?” I know I should be stopping, but my words poured freely, “Invicta, Ha! What a farce. The unconquerable goddess knows nothing but defeat!”

“Lulu…”

“Damn him, Vanafreya.” Tears flowed freely from my eyes no matter how hard I tried to stop them. “If he hadn’t stolen my followers from me, if I’d just destroyed his cult when I had the chance! Damn him! Damn El!”

Vanafreya stood there in silence, my words seemingly echoing within the room still. With great care, she place a hand on my shoulder. The warmth of her hand squeezed my heart with an icy grip.

“Lulu… I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have El destroy everything you hold dear, all of our kind do.”

I remained silent. I knew what was coming next.

“But it’s been roughly two millennia since he stole your followers, and around eight hundred years since he stole mine. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but he’s absolutely crushed us, all of us. To the point that his ludicrous power grab for the Domain of Divinity actually worked. Hell, most mortals think he’s the only god around, to the point that his name is actually the word for god in a lot of mortal languages. And, as much as I hate it, those mortals are right. Mostly, anyway…”

“And your point is?”

“That its been too long for you to still be this hung up about that. And you aren’t. At least, not most of the time.” She looked at the cracked screen, and her eyes widened as she understood.

“How little did you get?”

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Hmph.” I turned my back to her and focused on the screen, and the cracks began to disappear. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I simply have to stream again tomorrow as opposed to next week.”

“Tomorrow? But isn’t tomorrow Amane’s big anniversary celebration?”

“You knew…”

“You’ve only been stressing about it for the past week.” She sighed. “FantastiCon’s also tomorrow, you know, you probably won’t even break five hundred viewers with that much competition.”

“I am aware, Vanafreya.” I said through gritted teeth. I needed to concentrate, unless I wanted the screen to shatter once again.

“Lulu…” She fell silent, but only for a moment. She looked at me, took a deep breath, and spoke once more, “I could give you some of my faith-”

My monitor exploded into a thousand pieces.

“Leave.”

“Lulu, I-”

“How dare you.” I stood and faced her. She still towered over me. She was looking down on me. How dare she.

“I have never been more insulted, and by my own sister no less!” My nails drew blood as they dug into my skin.

“Lulu I just want to help you!”

“Oh. is that what I am to you, now? Something to feel sorry for? Yet another one of your little pet causes? Is that it Valerie Frey?!”

“Lulu, you know that’s not what I-”

I took ouy my phone, and in a few seconds, pulled up an article. Vanafreya’s smiling face graced dominated the screen, underneath, the title read, “Valerie Frey to donate half her salary from movie deal to charity.”

“Oh look at Ms. Valerie Frey, world famous actress, so kind, so gentle, so adored. In her infinite mercy, she saw fit to take in a wretch such as me!”

“Lulu, you’re not being fair!”

“Oh praise her, the arbiter of justice, the giver of charity! Praise her for seeing fit to give shelter to a failure so miserable she must be spoon fed her own gods damned faith! Praise and glory be to Vanafreya, Flower of the Underworld, Last of the Northern Gods!”

Silence. The look of absolute shock on her face made me realize what I had just said.

“Vanafreya, I-” She held a hand out, silencing me.

“Lulu-” She had to pause, her voice was shaking uncontrollably. “I-, I-” She grit her teeth, eyes shining with barely held back tears.

“I should go!”

“Vanafreya wait-!”

She was gone. I’d driven her away. Just like I always do.

“I’m… sorry.”

My words were my only company in this cold, empty room.

She’d left early the following day, before I could talk to her. I knew that it was because she had to promote her new movie at FantastiCon. I knew that. I kept repeating it in my mind, attempting to drown out the voice whose words were soft, but cut deeply.

On a whim, I opened my phone and checked Matsuri-hime’s channel, knowing all the while that Vanafreya would be right. Sure enough, her viewer count was well into the hundred thousands, and a fair bit of my regulars were among them. Streaming today would be completely futile, even if I still had my monitor.

The doorbell rang. Strange, Vanafreya isn’t supposed to come back until much later.

A shiver ran up my spine as I saw what awaited me when I opened the door. The man towered over me, his dispassionate gaze and his relaxed yet imposing posture, spoke of a man who cared nothing of what others thought of him. Which made sense, considering what he wore. His ensemble was a burlesque mix of aristocratic and garish; a double breasted suit paired with a cape that reached his ankles, sensible dress slacks and shoes that made his top hat look even more conspicuous. It was all tied together by a cane covered in intricate spiral patterns and studded with tiny pyramids along its base, too ornate to be used for walking, yet far too gaudy to ever be used in high society. His clothes were so ludicrous in of themselves that the fact that, with the exception of the red lining in his cape, the entirety of it was jet black seemed almost an afterthought. Almost.

Anyone else dressed in this utterly bizarre costume would’ve been uncomfortable, ashamed even, and rightfully so, but not this man. He wore it with such ease that it seemed like a second skin. This man, whose high born features and complexion marked him as a descendant of the sun kings of Aegyptus, held himself with such effortless, thoughtless pride that it was like that ancient kingdom never fell to me, or to El. I knew what he was, this man for whom shame is as foreign a concept as good fashion sense. His kind were unmistakable to people like me.

“You lost? FantastiCon’s a few blocks away, just head east, can’t miss it.” I closed the door on the creepy cosplayer before he recognized me and asked for an autograph.

“Oh no, I think I’m right where I want to be, Ms. Luna Invicta.”

Huh. Guess I was way off.