Altarrin sleeps late into the morning, but not well. He has nightmares that he hasn't had in a long time, including the one that isn't based on something he actually remembers at all, and can't have been, because he wasn't at Urtho's Tower at the moment it went up in a fiery explosion that would end up half destroying the world.
He gets Iomedae's final letter first, because his secretary has it waiting on his desk by the time he hauls himself out of bed and tries to steel himself to face the day - well, the week, maybe month - ahead. Which he may or may not even spend in command, here, if things are going exactly as expected as a week then he's better put to use on one of the other fronts.
(From here on, things are going to move...less quickly...and largely according to predetermined plans. Unless, of course, something else explodes from nowhere, but his gut - which was previously on high alert about the temple of Aroden - is actually mostly not expecting that. Certainly he has little to go on in terms of what contingencies would help to have prepared if something even more out of context happens, though he has people assigned to scrying all the known temple sites to Aroden in Oris, to alert him immediately if the large-scale miraculous healings or any other visibly divine-intervention events continue to happen. And he'll drop everything if and when something does explode, and improvise, but in the meantime he has at least a small window of space to think.)
It's...surreal, mostly, to read this letter when he already knows how the confrontation ended. He finds himself trying to guess at what the writer of this letter (was it the woman he just murdered at the cost of nearly two hundred lives, fifty of them precious mages? he isn't sure but he's more and more suspecting it) was thinking. What was her information state? What did she think the Empire was going to do.
- well, what would the Empire have done, if not for his personal direction? Because that's the obvious missing piece, here, that the rebels wouldn't have known in order to alert the Arodenites, and that perhaps even Aroden the god wouldn't have seen. The part where Archmage-General Altarrin is not, really, a product of the Empire's history and traditions and protocols, but the driver of them. The part where he has centuries of context on exactly how paranoid to be about the gods, that no one else possesses.
(Not precisely true. Kastil might have been paranoid enough. But Kastil is neither a high-ranking military commander, nor particularly good at politicking; he might have recommended thirty-six Final Strikes as a backup plan, but it's far less likely that Bastran would have agreed to it, coming from him.)
So maybe it's just a perfectly predictable and understandable pointless tragedy. Both of them sizing up the other, and coming to the prediction that it was a fight they could win. Not a very certain prediction, even Altarrin would only have put eight in ten odds that the amount of overkill he was willing to throw at this would work at all, but two hundred lives for an 80% chance of avoiding an existential threat to the Empire felt worth it. And it seems likely that the priestess of Aroden was thinking the same.
He can genuinely appreciate their principled commitment not to intervene in the Empire's other civil wars. He doesn't, of course, know for sure if it would have been held to, if this had gone on any longer. He probably won't ever know. He can still admire the fact that maybe that commitment was real.
...He wonders if it's right, that the gods - either Aroden, or the more local gods, or both working together - were steering for this so that the Empire would burn resources it couldn't afford to lose on neutralizing the threat, and then lose one or both of its other wars. He wonders if that's going to end up happening. Probably not, he thinks, but it still could, if there are further elements to the gods' plans here, further strings of bad luck They can still throw at Taymyrr or Tolmassar or even maybe Oris. Only history will tell if the decision he made was the right one.
(There are quiet, wistful notes in the back of his mind. It - would be better, if they were in a world where the Empire could have negotiated and made trades with the temple order of Aroden, lenience toward Oris in exchange for miraculous healing on their other fronts. That isn't the world they're in, for a thousand reasons, but it would have been a nicer, friendlier world. He can remember - well, he can't remember, but he can recall the notes - being Arvad, who still hoped that cooperation and peaceful trade with the followers of gods who were their neighbors might be attainable.)