Much of Dalreida Proper, the original territorial composition of the republic surrounding the capital, is composed of its three peninsulas, which are mostly narrow like a leg, and then expands at the tip, making them look like feet. This geographical reality earned Dalreida’s peninsulas the moniker of “Three Legs.”

At every seaport, a huge tripod can be seen as a symbol of Dalreida’s power projecting over land and overseas. The Order of Cashera’s ordinary carriage is quite inconspicuous among many carriages as it travelled to one of Dalreida’s ports.

“What’s with that grotesque design?”, the young woman bawled, “It looks something from the War of the Worlds!”

“That is the Tripod, my lady,” the masked man answered, “The original pantheon of Dalreida mythology is composed of three gods: Genises, Celesiastes, and Tarches. It represents the three gods who founded the world, symbolized by the sphere.”

Dalreida also associated them later on with the original “Three Legs” which began the republic.

Her eyes narrowed a bit, “Sorry for bringing this up, but I thought you people believed the earth is flat.”

“Not so, my lady. Dalreida believes that the world is like a ball suspended in the void. But the current dictator, who I believe you already saw in the plaza before, does not adhere to the old ways represented by these gods.”

“Let me guess… He also believes in me?”, she said with jest.

“Not near enough, my lady. Piso believes in a troublemaker called Ieso.”

“Ieso, huh? You don’t sound too sympathetic. This Dictator Piso seems to be loved by many.”

At least from what she knew from her world, dictators and similar authoritarian rulers were supposed to be hated for holding on to so much power.

“Of what we know, Ieso claimed deity during his lifetime. But the republic saw him a dangerous fellow. He was branded as a rebel, and rightly so. He attracted a lot of lowlifes in Aramathi. Deranged fanatics who were deluded of their belief on the resurrection of the dead.”

“Is that right…?”

“Of course, my lady, but I may be boring you now. Surely a goddess like you should know all of these.”

“Oh, uh, right… Let’s just say… Um… that yeah, I kinda lost my goddess memory while travelling through the space-time continuum and all that…”

He facepalmed, and then shouted, “Indeed so, my lady! Please forgive me for my foolishness!”

As the masked man continually gave his apologies, she thought to herself, “Avatar, huh? His contempt of the resurrection should mean he believes in something else… Is that reincarnation? Mm-hmm. Wait… How can I even understand their language anyway?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she then said, “Silly Piso. He knows that reincarnation keeps the Avatar cycle going, right?”

He looked up with eyes gleaming, “Y-yes, of course, my lady.”

Before they took the ship, the young woman was given a cloak to cover her. They figured she would be noticeable with her impeccable fashion sense, and so she accepted their offer.

It would take days before they reach Cashera’s island even with Dalreida’s fastest commercial vessel taking off from the southernmost port among Dalreida’s peninsulas, and so she took the liberty to know more about what she is about to enter.

“Uh… Hey, you,” she said, “What’s your name again?”

The masked man, who was looking at the sea, turned to her.

“Yes, my lady? You hailed?”

“That’s right. I was asking your name?”

“My lady, members of the Order of Cashera’s Secret Ops are all anonymous in the public.”

She looked around, and then whispered to his ear, “Even to your goddess?”

“Well, that’s…,” he softly responded with a buckling voice, “I’d be under duress, my lady…”

She whispered again, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry much about that, would I?”

“M-maybe a… say, history of our people would suffice?”

She went back to her normal voice, “Yeah, but how would I address you? Seriously, you all talk with people as if they don’t have names?”

“Duty calls, my lady.”

“Oh, alright,” she said after rolling her eyes, “Would you like me to give you a name then?”

With a puzzling look beneath his mask, he asked why.

“Because…,” she continued, “That’s the right way to do it, don’t you think? An example. If I were in trouble, who’d I call to? Oh, save me, some brave man in a red hood and a mask of intricate yet colorful design?”

He tried to stifle a laugh as he replied, “I… I guess… probably not.”

“So, what about it, then?”

“I do have a call number, my lady,” he said with more seriousness, “In the Secret Ops, I’m called Number 72.”

“Number 72, huh? That doesn’t sound so special.”

“Frankly, none of us are, my lady. You’re the only special one here.”

The last statement caused her face to slightly redden, but she tried to recover quickly.

“Still… I want to give you a name.”

She grabbed a marker from her bag, and then wrote on the left side of his mask.

“W-wait, my lady, the masks are sacred and…,” he desperately warned as he moved his hands moved frantically in front of him.

“Don’t give me that bull. Besides, I’m done already.”

After hiding the marker, she brought out a mirror.

“W-wow, my lady… What tiny brush you have…”

“Not my makeup kit! Look at the mirror.”

“Oh… Um, what does it say, my lady? Is it written in the goddess’s language?”

“R-right. You don’t know Japanese. That says Amai Kamen.”

“Japeness?”

“Never mind. It literally means Sweet Mask,” she said as she reaches out with another hand to the part of the mask she wrote on, “So, from now on, I’d call you Sweet Mask! Simple, no?”

He looked again at the mirror, this time seeing the young woman’s hand covering the characters written on his mask. After a few moments of contemplation, he bowed.

“If you say so, my lady. I will just have to explain this to my superiors.”

She gave a quick wink, and then said, “No worries. My divine power’s got you, sweetie.”

“Gosh,” she said in her mind, “I’ve been waiting to use that line!”

As night falls, she takes a stroll in the deck, and then stops to gaze at the endless waters. She looks at her smart phone. There is no signal, whether they were on land or at sea. Hurting herself did not yield anything better. It surely is not a dream nor a fantasy.

Thus, her mind began to be flooded with thoughts of her original world. She is just as average, if not below average, as one can get. She may not be exactly an isolated person that rivals NEET (not in employment, education, or training) people, but she is not the most connected either. Nobody notices. Nobody knows. Nobody cares. She is like chaff thrown by a hardworking farmer, and carried by the wind wherever it blows. Even if she has already been living in Dalreida for days, no one must have noticed her absence from her original world, as far as she is concerned. Then again, who is to say which is an alternate dimension or timeline?

The longer she tried to retrace her steps in figuring out how she got to be Cashera’s avatar, she turned blank. It was a dead end. She does not know what led to her being brought to this world, or who Cashera even is. Surely she should have not been the only one transported to another world? Besides, she does not adhere to any one god or religion, much less Cashera’s. Easy come, easy go. That is how life happens. Nothing is permanent, and change is the only constant, so why be sentimental about anything? In the end, she resigns to the fact that if she gets stuck in this world, at least her mistaken identity as a goddess would give her the sense of purpose she never perceived to have in her previous life.

With the help of Sweet Mask, she attempts to learn everything she can to keep the ploy of being Cashera, the savior goddess who would free her people. Time does fly when people enjoy themselves, and soon they can already see the island’s silhouette.

“My lady,” Sweet Mask said, “We are now approaching our home.”

“The island sure looks exciting. It’s even gleaming with all those lights!”

“Not really, my lady. But they already know you’re coming, so they prepared a festival.”

“Oh, wow! Can you hold me? I want to see the lights!”

“H-hold you where?”

Without another word, she placed his arms around her waist.

“There. Now, you say Rose, I say Jack.”

“Why, my lady? Are we jacking this ship?”

“No, silly. It’s for the mood, alright?”

Even as he hesitated, Sweet Mask maintained his hold of the young woman.

“Ro… Rose…?”

She spread her arms widely as the wind caused her hair and cloak to flutter.

“Jack…”

Her voice sounded more heavenly than usual. As if putting him under a spell, he slightly moved his fingers to feel the soft and smooth curves near her waist. He might have held other women in the past, but hers felt much different, and in a good way.

Once more, he had the opportunity to realize how beautiful Cashera really is, at least for him. Both enjoyed their moment, the company of each other. Suddenly, she sighted another ship also bathed by specks of light.

“Sweet Mask,” she asked as she pointed to the ship, “Is that also part of my welcoming party?”

He looked towards the direction she was pointing to, but it caused him to tighten his grip of her. The strength of his grip pained her to the point of her screaming with a somewhat embarrassing voice. She quickly shoved away his hands, and then turned to him.

“What’s up with you?!”, she demanded, “That’s so ungentlemanly!”

“I… I’m sorry, my lady… P-please, forgive me for being rude to your divine body…”

“Eh… If you’re not so good to me these past few days, I’d have pummeled you to the waters. Now, tell me what triggered you so.”

He looked away from the young woman, and fixed his gaze on the other ship.

“That’s a Dragon Boat, my lady… Just like the Tripod, it poses as a symbol of Dalreida’s power, but more potent at that. It is powered by 200 oarsmen, and can hold up to 500 soldiers.”

“Oh… It’s that big?”

He paused for a while, thinking what she probably meant with that last sentence because she is not exactly looking at the ship, but he figured he should continue his narrative.

“N-no, my lady… It’s just a patrol ship that frequents the island. In regular intervals, they send larger Dragon Ships. Due to its size, it is no longer powered by human paddling. It uses steam-powered paddlewheels to carry up to 2,500 soldiers, not to mention experimental weapons which Dalreida secretly develops at our own expense. It has really taken a toll on our people that your coming must have been the only time in my memory that they’re truly happy.”

“It must be hard…”

Again, he paused. What could she be meaning? Being a goddess, she is likely able to read a person’s mind, and his is not an exception. Does she mean the improper thoughts he built up while holding her and seeing the ship? So much about being part of the Secret Ops.

“Ah… Er… M-my lady…”

She smiled at him, and then said, “Don’t put too much thought into it, Jack.”

“B-but I’m…”

She went closer, held his hand, and put it back on her waist.

“I’m here… And it’s all that matters, right?”

Sweet Mask was speechless, and his hands were trembling. Yet at the sight of the young woman looking on the island, while being seemingly confident of herself, he felt calmness taking over his nerves.

That is spot on! Cashera has returned for her people, and the world shall soon witness her power. The mission is just the start of her working wonders. With that encouraging thought replacing everything else at that time, he smiled as well, and then gently placed one of his hands where she implied to have it put.

Yet, the following day reveals that it might be too early for serenity. Their ship docked later than expected, but felicity filled the air. It was as if the people would never leave the area even if the ship would arrive much, much later. As Sweet Mask escorted the woman to the harbor, among the entourage to welcome her is a group of people also wearing red hoods. However, they do not have any masks on them.

“72,” one of the members whispered to Sweet Mask, “Job well done. We’ll take it from here.”

“As you wish, Great Priest,” Sweet Mask whispered back before disappearing in the crowd.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group kept the woman company, but they keep their own doubts to themselves. Cashera’s avatar do not look any impressive as one might expect from a goddess.

For one, a lot of their people would definitely be taller than her, and unlike their reddish hair, she had mahogany hair bordering to black. Also, she does not seem to be any more beautiful than the island’s best looking women. Could Cashera have made a mistake, or was it 72?

“Where’s Sweet Mask?”, she asked, “He’s just here a while ago and…”

“Lady Cashera, welcome to Deiroc” the Great Priest answered her with a deep voice, “If you meant Number 72, he’s already been assigned to a new task. Please, may we talk elsewhere?”

The Great Priest motioned his hands, and then dozens of red hooded people in masks forced a path for her between the crowds. The people were not as numerous as they were in the capital, but she did notice their unrelenting enthusiasm to meet Cashera’s avatar. At last, the goddess has descended on earth.

Soon enough, she was brought in an undeveloped shore of the island, accompanied only by the people in red led by the Great Priest. The white, fine sand apparently memorizes every step as it shows the mark of every foot. As she enjoyed the scenery, the people around her dispersed, and then she realized that the Great Priest points at her a dagger.

The Great Priest wailed, “Who are you?! A Dalreida spy?!”

“W-wait,” she panicked with her hands raised, “I-I’m no spy!”

“The prophecies, all of them, declared a majestic sight for Cashera’s avatar! She knows everything about us! But you look nowhere near the women of Deiroc, and you don’t seem to be pretty smart, too! You don’t even have any reaction as you step on the sacred sands of Cashera! Her past avatar’s favorite place! Now, tell me who you are, Piso’s sympathizer!”

The women in the group nodded almost in unison.

“I… I don’t know what to say…,” she mumbled even if she felt insulted by the priest’s remarks.

The Great Priest’s eyes became as sharp as his dagger.

“Very well then. You will die here.”

He raised the dagger high. All she can do is look down, close her eyes, and hug her bag. But then, all she can hear is jeering and the Great Priest’s distress. She opened her eyes once more.

Behold, in front of her was Sweet Mask, who just parried the Great Priest. As the Great Priest saw his dagger twirl away from him, he drew out another dagger, and almost simultaneously, Sweet Mask also unveiled his own weapon.

“Great Priest, Our Father,” Sweet Mask shouted, “How can you raise your hand against the goddess herself?!”

“Stay out of this, boy,” the Great Priest angrily said, “She’s deceived you just like she does to everybody else! Look at her, she’s not Lady Cashera. Not even close.”

She just stared at the two, mouthing some words but with no voice expressing them. The people around them hid their hands under their cloaks, signifying their readiness to act.

“No! This girl behind me is Lady Cashera!”

“How can you say so? What miracle has she done for you?!”

“S-she… She taught me love… To love again in this hopeless world!”

“Blasphemy! No man must lay his hands on Lady Cashera, even if she’s a fake one!”

“How can you understand, you who love has deserted?! I’m going to sacrifice my life for her!”

“Cashera would be most glad for your blood then! May she accept you in heaven!”

The sky darkened as the clouds gather to block the afternoon sun. The Great Priest was just about a tad faster than Sweet Mask at poising for the offensive. However, before he can carry out his attack, the Great Priest dropped his dagger. The people around them fell on their knees, and soon following them is the Great Priest. Sweet Mask’s eyes widened at the sight, but then there must only be a single logical answer to this sudden change of heart.

He quickly turned back, and then marveled at how the orange light seemingly shined only on the young woman. She was looking up, her eyes somewhat covered by her hair, as tears were flowing, but only from her right eye. Then, she began to speak with a slightly different voice from her usual.

“This man,” she declared after her teeth gnashed, “is favored by me. I’ve given him special access to me. So, stop your madness, my servant!”

“Y-yes…,” the Great Priest nervously responded, his hands still shaking in front of him, “L-lady Cahera… I mean, Casera… Cashara…. No, L-lady C-cashera…”

“You! You judged me for how I looked… But even the heavens look so plain in the naked eye. Blessed are those who do not see, and yet believed.”

“F-forgive me… Please, my lady…”

“Shut your trap then!”

Like a woman possessed, she quickly performed strange seals with her hands. The Great Priest bowed low, his head touching the sands, and so did the rest of the people. All except for Sweet Mask, whose arms collapsed at the magnificent sight, when the orange light began to turn reddish.

“My lady… Lady Cashera… Praise be to you! You whose love has given us hope!”

She smiled while still having her head held high, and then she passed out. Sweet Mask hurriedly caught her in his arms. The rest still in shock and awe, the darkness dissipated as quickly as it appeared, but Sweet Mask was frantically trying to wake up the girl. It did not matter if he was touching her body so casually. Such display of power must have caused her severe inconvenience.

“Lady Cashera! Lady Cashera!”, he repeatedly called with a most unusual voice.

Suddenly, she raised her right hand to touch the part of the mask she had written on.

“T-thank you… Did… Did I do well?”

All he could do was nod, failing to hinder the tears from his eyes.

With Deiroc gaining their prized goddess, what does it mean for those who wish to throw off Dalreida’s yoke over them, as well as for those who wish for them to remain? How can the Great Priest recover from the disgrace of offending Cashera? Is the young woman really the avatar of Deiroc’s goddess?