The Fate of: The Fate of, #1

By J.E. Lynn

Evangeline is a cleric at the Church of Stars - an institution dedicated to healing and taking care of the people of Lovern amid a mysterious plague. After being warned that there is a cult infiltrating her beloved home, she starts her investigation. She aims to uncover the truth of who they are and what they want while maintaining her secretive relationship with her childhood friend. 

 

Dianthus, memoryless and with nowhere else to go, has been living with the city's royal family ever since they awoke five months ago, found confused and delirious by the youngest prince. They've become accustomed to the family's lavish lifestyle, ignoring the burden of discovering their past identity in favor of the comfort they offer, but as the days move forward and a courtship with the crown prince begins, they start to find that they can only turn away from themselves for so long.

 

Harr is a wayward assassin who recently joined a strange circle of collaborators pursuing immortality. Haunted by the memories of her past and profession, she works to find the key to living forever while trying not to lose her head in the process.

 

The Fate of is the first novel in a seven book series set in a dark fantasy world with inspiration taken from the cosmic horror and gothic genres. It follows three protagonists as they slowly uncover parts of a larger conspiracy that threatens the peace of their city but none of that will matter if they can't overcome themselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.E. Lynn
• Release date: Jul 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223987987

J.E. Lynn

J.E. Lynn was made October of 2020 on an unusually cold Sunday night at two in the morning. They were originally a half-angel, half-demon calico cat, but spontaneously turned into a human being on their first birthday.  Their favorite food is anything cold that shouldn't be eaten cold. They went to college for Creative Writing and Art History, but it is questionable what they actually learned from this incident.  If you need to contact J.E. Lynn, email them at [e-mail] and they are on social media under the same handle. If you want updates about the series or future projects, it is a good place to look! 

Book preview

Chapter One

The needle was long, thin, and pierced into her skin with ease. Evangeline held the metal instrument steady as she inserted it further into the patient’s feeble arm. She made a small noise and pulled away, but Eva tightened her grip around her, keeping her steady.

Don’t move, she whispered and although she had not meant to speak in such a soft voice, it had come out that way.

Is it over? Charlotte whimpered. Her head was turned away, but Eva could still see her eyes looking to the ceiling, examining the thin cracks in the centuries-old stone.

Almost, Eva said. She injected the medicine into her in one smooth motion. The large syringe, while it had been developed and improved upon by the Church for decades now, was still crude and unknown to many commoners in the city. She took the needle out. Charlotte flinched, but, after it was done, all the tension left her body. It’s over, Eva announced.

Charlotte’s resulting sigh turned into a cough. Although the mysterious ailment was known to have several volatile traits with no consistent pattern in how it manifested, this was more due to the airless nature of the room than this being a symptom she possessed. It was poorly ventilated and was only made worse by the people crowded within the makeshift hospital ward. Flimsy, wooden cots took up every possible space and each of them was filled. The only space that wasn’t crowded was a walkway at the center of the room. Good, she laughed, You’ll have to get someone to pin me down if I need to do that again.

Eva forced a smile. I’ll keep that in mind. She stood up from the small stool she placed near the particularly unwell. It barely fit between Charlotte’s bed and the other patient next to her.

Soon they’ll run out of room, right? Is it that bad? Charlotte asked. Her gaze was fixated on the still back of the person sleeping beside her.

We already have, Eva said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlotte looking up expectantly at her, waiting to make eye contact, but Eva was too busy surveying the room, seeing if anyone needed her immediate attention. She coughed again. It was a wet sound. I don’t want to think that way. Let’s talk about something else. You’re so pretty. You know that? she said.

It took a moment for the compliment to register in her mind. Unsure of how to handle it, she said, You’re pretty too.

I’ve had better days, she laughed. Do you have anyone... Charlotte’s voice trailed off before it could lilt into a question.

No.

Charlotte pressed her lips together, obviously nervous. Maybe, after I’m better, we can go on a date, she suggested.

Maybe, Eva said. She looked at the clock ticking on the wall. The time was almost midnight. It was still early into her watch. I don’t have an interest in romance right now, though.

Her chuckle was weak and faded quickly. I understand. It can be difficult and, with everything going on, it must be even harder... I’m already feeling better, though! What is that stuff?

A solution for fevers.

So, not a cure?

Eva shook her head. No.

Charlotte looked away, but Eva still saw her frown. She rolled over onto her other side. The room was quiet except for soft breaths and snores.

I have some other things to attend to. You should rest, Eva said.

Will you be back soon? she asked. Her arm was tucked under her head, nearly draping over the side of the small bed.

My watch isn’t over until morning, but you need to go to sleep, Eva repeated. She began to walk away, heading to the door on the other side of the room. The clerestory windows let in little moonlight, so the hallway was mostly lit by alternating lamps lining the walls.

Even with the distance between them, Charlotte continued the conversation. Are you going somewhere?

I’m only going to survey our supplies, she lied.

Are you going to be back soon? she asked again.

I will be back, she said, trying yet again to dismiss the question. Eva knew why Charlotte wanted her to stay. She didn’t want to be alone if she died and even though Eva, with what she had seen over the past three months, figured that she wouldn’t, still could not promise that she would make it through anything.

You promise?

Yes.

She got the sense Charlotte was still going to forego rest and wait for her to return. She stopped in front of the door, speaking in a low voice, hoping it would reach her, Don’t stay up waiting for me. It may take me a while.

I know, she grumbled. She shifted with the thin sheets, pulling them up to cover herself more, before stilling.

Eva stood there for a moment, staring at her still, unmoving form. Her eyes were closed.

When Eva exited the ward, she leaned against the heavy, wooden door that separated her from the room and let out a cold sigh. She had spent most of her time in that small, cramped space for the past months and any reprieve from the stuffiness, the warmth, and the sickness that permeated those walls was welcome.

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes to focus on her breath. She opened them and looked at the room around her. She had turned the walkway into her office. Boxes of supplies lined the wall along with a stool and a small table that acted as her desk. But it wasn’t like she was granted many opportunities to use them.

She sat down and picked up her book of records and recorded the use of the medicine in its thick pages. The pen she used wisped across the page, marking the yellowed parchment.

She wrote ‘Charlotte Hensbane’ next to the dose.

She was a baker’s daughter who had fallen ill a week ago. Her family had succumbed before her, and Eva had been the one to mark their times of death. She would most likely be the one to record Charlotte’s death if she passed. People tended to die more under the moon and she had been assigned the night shift since her arrival at the Church of Stars five years ago.

She placed the book of records back down on the table and put the pen on top of it. It wasn’t as if Eva liked death. She hated it, but it was her duty as a cleric of the Church to provide care for people needing it, and with this bought of unknown illness going around, clerics were needed now more than ever.

Eva rolled her shoulders, trying to rid them of stiffness. She caught her reflection in a tall, glass vase filled with water. She made sure to not look directly at it, fearing how mirrors looked at night.

She needed more supplies. She looked at the list she had created earlier: gauze, medicine, water...

There were so many things the Church needed, and all of it was in short supply.

Eva sighed and clenched her fist. After all this time, a whole three months, nothing was known about the illness or even where it had come from. It had started in the lower levels of the city and crawled its way up to the upper levels – affecting everything in its path.

"Even I may succumb to this," she thought. Some of the other nurses had fallen sick, leaving them short-staffed and unable to care for all the people coming to their door. Others had left due to fear of contracting it. It was unknown how it transferred from person to person and seemed to have fickle, varying effects on who caught it. Over the course of these months, she had seen more patients than her entire five, prior years combined.

And yet she had not caught anything after all this time.

"Maybe I am immune..." she thought, "and maybe he is too."

Her heart lit up at the thought. It would be a miracle, but she hoped that at least he would be safe from this. The Archbishop of the Church of Stars, their enlightened one and the one who could foretell their future, who had foretold them of this disaster, was one of the most respected figures in the city of Lovern.

She put her list down and made her way through the night-filled halls of the Church. It was a quiet night. Unnaturally so. There were sure to be other clerics awake handling the other wards, but Eva could hear none in the distance.

The sound traveled so easily in this compound.

She sped up her pace, passing by the tall windows that let in the silver moonlight. It illuminated her cool, black skin and the metallic pieces that adorned her robes.

She maneuvered around the corner with a single destination in mind. One she could only go to at late hours such as this.

Around the glass surrounding the wide doors was a lattice of fine silverwork. Between these small holes, she could see the flickering of warm candles in the Archbishop’s private quarters. It was usually well guarded, but she imagined he must have dismissed them, predicting her arrival.

She opened the door, flooding the hallway with warm light. The room was filled with candles which reflected off the silver adornments, making it appear as if the room was painted gold. The fireplace was going and only as she stepped inside the warmth did, she realize how cold she was even underneath all her uniform’s layers.

Hello, Eva, Lucere said from his desk.  It sat in front of a balcony that overlooked the maze of a city below them. The doors were both open and let in the light, Winter wind. The contrast of the warm fireplace and cold breeze sent chills down her spine. She repressed a shiver.

Eva inhaled the scent of the candles. It was what she imagined the sea would smell like. She had never seen it before – never leaving the confines of the landlocked kingdom of Lovern.

Lucere, she greeted.

How was your day? he asked. He stood up from the well-organized desk and walked over to be closer to her. His long robes dragged across the floor, and he still wore his silver headpiece. It was an outfitting primarily used for public appearances and ceremonies.

Did you have a long day? she asked back.

I just got back from speaking with Vesryn, he said.

Ah. The head priest, she recalled with a slant of distaste. She had only a few run-ins with the busy man and all had left her more stressed.

What business did you have with him? she asked.

We were attempting to outsource supplies, but ran into trouble at Lovern’s borders, he said. There is a new rule regarding incoming supplies that left them unsanctioned. We were discussing any possibility of how to retrieve them.

The city isn’t allowing you to get your supplies? Eva asked.

He nodded. The supplies are already here, but the city officials aren’t allowing us to retrieve them. I have messaged and spoken to the King directly about this, but it keeps happening.

Her shrug was modest. Steal them then.

He shook his head. And cause more trouble for the Church? We are already spread thin.

Despite her disappointment, she remained even-toned. And have more people die? What sort of repercussions will they even inflict on us? Would they truly condemn the main caretakers of Lovern amid a disaster?

Lucere sighed, I know. If I could, then I would. I’m afraid I don’t even have that power as Archbishop.

She exhaled sharply. I hate how this city can be sometimes.

His laugh was sympathetic, Don’t say that.

Why do we stay here? she asked even though she knew the reasons why. Even though she truly didn’t hate this place.

It’s our home. We grew up here, he said.

Sometimes that isn’t enough. She moved to sit on the pair of couches in front of the fireplace.

Lucere followed, sitting on the other couch. I want to make this place better, he said.

She looked into the fire. The wood was running low. So, do I.

His smile was soft and genuine. And it will be better. I promise.

You’ve seen its future. Does it really?

I haven’t seen that far, but... I can hope.

She nodded in understanding. As long as you believe, I think I can too.

Earlier you never answered me, though. How was your day?

It was fine.

Are you certain? he asked.

She shot up and began to pace in front of the fireplace. It’s been hard, but it’s been bearable.

Did anyone die today?

Only two.

He looked down. Vesryn has been in charge of researching the disease, but there’s been no advancement in his studies for a long while – or at least none he has reported to me about.

It’s sabotage.

Lucere’s mouth dropped open.  I’m not rebuking your idea, but what makes you say that? The disbelief in his voice was evident.

This Church has been in charge of healing and curing every disease Lovern has ever experienced. Every document regarding medicine and health is within these walls and Vesryn is struggling? A man of his capacity could find it out in days, Eva accused.

Lucere shook his head, trying to find the right words to say. I...

She paced behind the couch until she stopped right behind where he was sitting. He leaned his head back against the upholstery. She gently held his face, putting each palm against his cheeks. Her fingertips touched the edges of his soft hair, and although his headpiece was secured to his head, it leaned back, threatening to fall off. If I had the resources, I’d do the research myself.

His face reddened. I’m sorry.

You don’t need to apologize. I know it would look strange if you gave a random, unknown cleric permission to go into the closed archives. She exhaled, I didn’t mean to be so accusatory. I guess today was harder on me than I realized.

It’s okay, he said, Don’t apologize.

She smiled at him. I won’t then. She let go of his face and walked back to sit beside him.

Once she sat down, he said, I’ll keep a closer eye on Vesryn. If you have reasons to suspect him, then that is enough for me.

Thank you.

There is something I must ask of you though.

She tilted her head causing the jewelry in her braids to dangle. It made a slight metallic noise. What is it? she asked.

Don’t come tomorrow night.

Why?

I will be away, he said in a grave voice.

Eva had rarely heard his soft voice sound so upset. Is something wrong? she asked.

No. I don’t think anything is wrong, he said, but Eva heard otherwise.

You’re lying.

I can’t get anything past you, can I? he breathed. He took her hand in his own and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. You worry too much.

I worry enough.

I don’t want you to stress so much. I know it’s been hard on you the past few months, he said.

When you ascended to Archbishop all those years ago, you promised me that I would be informed about what your plans were and –

My visions of the future, he finished, Yes. Of course, I tell you as soon as I know. Well, the important ones at the least. I don’t want to bore you with irrelevance.

So, what is bothering you? she asked.

I’m afraid, for the first time in a long while, the future remains unknown to me, he admitted.

Do you fear something? I know they can be sporadic sometimes, but what makes this different?

I do fear something, he said. Do you know the stories of the past Archbishops?

...No, she admitted quietly.

You’ve been a member of the Church for five years, Eva, he laughed in a way that caused his blue eyes to press together, almost closing.

I’ve only been here for you and to help others, she said. I haven’t learned anything I didn’t need to learn.

Blasphemous, he said with a smile.

So are you, she quipped back. When a person ascends to Archbishop, they take a vow to forgo any sort of distractions due to the belief that they would cause fewer visions of the future. This included anything from eating flavorful foods to romantic relationships.

He gestured, his loose sleeves moving with the motion, Well, there have been sixty-two before me and almost all have lived incredibly brief lives. Many warned the people of disasters to come, and, in the distant past, where to harvest the best food. All their stories – at least those known – tell of people who wanted the best for the world and the people that lived in it. The stories remain all the same at the end though. As an Archbishop nears the end of their life, their visions become less and less until they receive one last vision. The vision of their death.

So, you fear you are about to die?

He nodded. Yes. I do.

She inhaled deeply and leaned back against the couch. You haven’t received that vision yet, have you?

No.

Eva paused, listening to the resounding sound of the ‘no’ that echoed across the room.

She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

You promise?

I promise, Lucere said. He put his hand atop hers.

She continued to replay the ‘no’ in her head. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand. It was an unfamiliar gesture as neither of them were ever too physically affectionate with the other. Thank you, he said, sensing that she had believed him.

She left his room that night with an unusual hollowness in her heart.

––––––––

Eva sat by Charlotte’s side early the next morning. The sky was halfway between day and night. She was unmoving and looked paler than before. Eva’s hand winded down to feel her wrist.

She waited a moment.

Eva sighed. Charlotte’s heart was still very much beating. Albeit slowly, but she was alive. She removed her hand and straightened her back at the sound of footsteps behind her.

She turned around and saw Vesryn approaching. The older man was deeply tanned with almond-shaped eyes. He stood above her a considerable amount, but this was expected due to her, and Lucere’s, short height.

Evangeline.

Vesryn, she greeted, matching his bored, tired tone.

I’m curious as to how your shift went.

Eva was aware of the procedures he followed. He kept a strict eye on supplies and where they went considering how low they were.

I used two of the fever solvent. There should be seven left, she said.

There is. Who received them? he asked.

Charlotte Hensbane and An Riverson. She pointed to their positions in the room. They were both still asleep.

He nodded, All of this was recorded?

Yes, she affirmed.

Good. Thank you for your work. You can leave now.

She looked him in the eye. Who is taking over this ward? I have a few hours left.

I am.

She suspected he probably worked through the night too. She looked at Charlotte and then back at him.  She may need more, she said.

I’ll give her some if I deem it necessary.

She doubted he would.

Have a nice rest, Evangeline, he said, dismissing her.

She bowed slight and left the room without dwelling in the interaction, knowing that night would fall just as quickly as morning came. She headed straight to her nearly empty room, deciding not to eat any food from the dining hall where breakfast was surely being served.

Chapter Two

They sighed into the porcelain cup. On its delicate sides were lines of pastels so intricate they could find no sense in the pattern. They recognized that it had to be a repeating form but couldn’t pick up on why they knew this.

Have you made any progress recovering your memories, Dianthus? the lady dressed in white asked.

Dianthus put the cup back onto the wrought iron table. Not yet... They sat underneath the warm sun surrounded by flowers whose names were lost to them despite their prior tours of the palace. However, they still managed to recognize one – aeterna millefolia. The flower was deadly. Almost all animals were immune to the effects, but humans were the exception.

What is a flower like that even doing here? they thought.

"The aeterna has your eye, correct?" she asked. She brushed her dark, windswept hair out of her face.

Why is it here?

My other son insisted we have some on the grounds for emergencies, Lady Larunda said. And my husband enjoys the flower. He says it reminds him of his childhood.

Emergencies? they asked.

Impromptu assassinations. Having something that can kill so quickly is important to have on hand, she said. Her hair had blown to the side, exposing her high cheekbones and an elegant line of moles on her long neck. In a way, it resembled a constellation.

I... they started but stopped. They weren’t sure what to say.

You don’t need to say anything, Dianthus, she assured them. She took a deep breath before speaking, Forgive me for bringing this to our attention, but I do hope you are aware that Rhoswen is destined to be married this upcoming equinox.

I know, they said, deeply unsure as to why she was repeating this information.

The Lady picked up this confusion and clarified, You have upset our boundaries regarding this again and again despite our kindness towards you. We could have insisted that Rhoswen leave you on the street – memoryless and doomed to die.

You don’t have to be kind, they pointed out, but this did not mean they did not want the kindness.

But I want to be, she said.

They shifted in their seat, moving their legs to cross one ankle over the other. I have to ask, though. What boundaries have I overstepped?

My son seems to like you more than his betrothed. You do nothing to prevent him from fostering these feelings. She looked toward the direction the wind was blowing and added, What an interesting direction the wind moves today. I’d say it would storm later if it was the season for it.

I don’t think he likes me in that way, they laughed. It was a nervous dismissal rather than thinking the situation warranted laughter.

It doesn’t matter whether your relationship is platonic or romantic, she said. What matters is that Lorene is threatened by you.

So, she is the jealous type, Dianthus noted. They had heard of Lorene before and it had only been negative, or borderline slanderous, things. They’d like to think they were false, but it was hard to not believe so many people. Especially when it came to the rumors the maids of the palace passed around. They had no reason to come together over a mutual lie as the nobles of the courts did. They sighed before speaking, I can reassure her that it’s not like that.

That would be appreciated. She has been knocking at my door for your execution, the Lady laughed.

She wants me dead? They tensed at the thought and began fidgeting with the ends of their sleeves.

Oh, of course, she does. She was raised to be like this. You could maybe say that she was doomed to a jealous heart simply by whom she was born to. Her voice was light and carried easily.

How did she end up like– Dianthus started.

Lady Larunda took over as she often did. A jealous child? Her mother created a being with an endless desire for attention, good or bad. I am fond of Lorene, but she doesn’t handle any perceived competition well. Not only in romantic pursuits but in any and everything. She had four other suitors before Rhoswen and all of those courtships were more disastrous than the last.

How though?

The way insecure mothers often do, she shrugged. This wasn’t what Dianthus had intended to question but accepted that this was what she wanted to speak on now. If you raise a child without insecurity, you get someone like Rhoswen – someone who is well-adjusted.

I’ll talk to her when I come across her, they said. They had no desire to actively seek her out, so they wanted to start building an excuse early. If they hadn’t talked before their next teatime, Dianthus could say something like: Ah, I had no idea where she was at and never came across her! What a shame.

Dianthus looked down into their half-filled cup. The reflection of their dark, almond eyes shimmered in the liquid and stared back at them. Dianthus took a small sip, wary of the flavor.

If you ever want to marry into the family, we have Aster, the Lady said.

It took all of Dianthus’ strength not to spit the liquid back out. You’ve already done so much for me. I couldn’t – Dianthus paused, trying to think of more excuses.

You’re already like a third child to me. Marrying in is a natural thing to do at this point, she said. Aster is just as lovely as Rhoswen.

And ten times more prone to assassinating people apparently, Dianthus wanted to bite back but managed to hold their tongue. They had passed by him a handful of times and rarely heard anything about him other than people’s tentative respect for him as the crown prince. I want to...

Marry for love? she guessed.

Yeah. Their eyes floated back down to stare at the darkness in their cup.

Love isn’t real in that way.

It didn’t shock Dianthus that Lady Larunda thought that.

So, you married...

I am the King’s second wife. This was never about love. For him or for me, she said. She waved down a guard standing a distance away from them. More tea. Please, she asked.

The stalwart guard took the teapot gently in his hands and fled as quickly as he came.

What is it about then? If you don’t mind me asking.

I only want the best for those I care about. I’ve come to like my husband and Aster during my time here, but it would be a lie to say I cared for them in those early years. Rhoswen will never be a king like Aster is destined to be, but my son – my only son of blood – will be destined for a good life. This city is a hard place to exist in. She gestured as she spoke, The majority of people here are raised in the lower layers of this city and will likely never see the light of day outside of occasional glances. I never thought I would. But now I see it every day and so does my son. I want that for you too.

So, all of this is to assure you see the daylight? Dianthus asked. They fiddled with the handle of their now empty cup.

And for Rhoswen to see the light too. And now you.

You truly think I could marry Aster?

You have just as much luck as anyone else. Maybe even more so considering your proximity, she said.

The guard placed the teapot back on the table. Dianthus flinched, not having sensed that they had approached from behind. 

I guess if we were to fall in love.

Aster isn’t born for love.

Dianthus frowned. And Rhoswen?

Maybe he was born for love, but he was not destined for it. The Church of Stars declares that everything is predetermined from the start of existence. Rhoswen was born into life, not for love, but for something else entirely.

Dianthus found themselves getting lost in her philosophy. So, things are that unequivocal to you?

She laughed, Is there no other way to see things?

Dianthus wanted to respond, but embarrassment kept their mouth shut.

The rays of the sun were faint due to how cloudy the day had turned out to be. It hadn’t started this way. It had been a bright morning before thick, towering clouds had swooped in, blotting out the midday sun. Lady Larunda continued speaking, seeing that they had been unable to form a rebuke. For me, there is only the sun now and it is a good thing. In places like Uleran, where the sun barely ever shows, people are more likely to give up on life. There was a record that stated it disappeared for fourteen or so years, but the truth of this is debatable since the people there are so extreme in their superstitions. Their saying that the sun disappeared for that long could be another way of saying that it was a season of acedia – an extended period without harvest. I say their depressing weather is why their kingdom is always falling apart, but others say the land is cursed. Do you think it is the lack of sun that made the belief in the curse? I don’t believe in those things, but I was always curious as to what the people of Uleran believe.

They pondered what was best to say. Do I believe in curses? they asked themself.

I was told to follow the Church of Stars and I guess they don’t since Lady Larunda doesn’t believe in them.

I don’t believe in curses, Dianthus announced.

She smiled, content with their answer. Despite my curiosity, I never want to see the land. Or any other land than Lovern for that matter. I had to deal with a young princess from Vainomryn once, whom I could have killed with my own hands. Luckily, she was hung with the rest of her family when they were overthrown a few years ago. The news of their departure made my month. Their new emperor is reclusive and has an isolationist heart, which makes business with them quick and easy now.

They nodded, unsure of what they were even agreeing with, but figured it was best to go along with what she was saying.

She sighed, Sadly, I must depart now. She took her last sip of tea and put it back down on the thin saucer.

Dianthus looked toward the fresh, untouched pot she had just requested. There’s all this left. What should I do with it?

The Lady smiled brightly. Take it to Rhoswen or Aster. Your choice, dear.

She walked past the pastel and vibrant flowers that surrounded the grass walkway before opening the iron gate to the rest of the palace. She turned back toward Dianthus. I’m sure you’ll make the right choice, she said. The gate closed behind her, leaving Dianthus sitting in the garden alone except for the guard. Now that they were as close to being alone as they could be, they wiped the sweat from their palms onto their pants.

I know she means for me to go to Aster, but... They looked at the teapot. It was a fine pot painted with delicate flowers. It didn’t match the teacups.

They picked it up and headed toward the same door the Lady left through. They bowed their head towards the guard – a silent thanks – and as they left the garden, a strong breeze followed them through the threshold.

The walls were a stone that reflected light easily and lit the whole place up. Their thoughts strayed as they wandered the halls, trying to guess where Aster might be. Or Rhoswen. Whomever they came across first.

Dianthus, while not overtly religious, had decided to be a casual believer in the Church of Stars. The family practiced it, so it made sense to follow it also. Rhoswen had sat down with them one chilled day and explained everything he could about the religion. Dianthus had done their best to listen but found themselves distracted by the archives that climbed up the walls, reaching the high, coffered ceiling.

Of all the facts that could have stuck with them about the religion, the one that did was that the Church did not believe in an afterlife. There was no logical reason to. When trying to prove the existence of the afterlife, all of Lovern’s clerics failed. This resulted in all other beliefs within the Arbitrium region being ‘disproved’ by the Church hundreds of years ago.

But none of that stopped Dianthus from imagining what it might be like for them if they were to die though. They thought that if there was an afterlife, then it would look like this to them:

They were by themselves in a long hallway that looked very much like the one they strolled down now. It would be somewhere between autumn and winter. The wind would blow, but it wouldn’t be cold. They would hear a violin playing so soft they could barely hear it.

That’s all they could imagine for now.

––––––––

Dianthus knocked on the study door.

Come in, they heard from the other side of the heavy door. They swallowed hard before opening pushing it and peeking in. It was a large room filled with bookshelves and at the center of it was Aster at a large, circular desk that matched the rounded shape of the room. The tall windows on the Northern wall let in plenty of light. It was the perfect amount for reading and writing during the daytime.

Dianthus stood in the doorway thinking of what to say. There was leftover tea, they announced. It came out blunter than they meant.

They walked to his desk, painfully aware of how stiff their motions were, and placed the teapot in a space that wasn’t filled with books and paper.

Aster looked at the teapot for a moment. There’s no cup, he said.

Huh?

Do you want me to drink it from the spout? I could if you want me to, Aster joked.

Dianthus’ face heated up. They hadn’t even thought about getting another cup for him. I forgot it, they said.

I can tell, Aster laughed.

At that moment, for a reason Dianthus did not know yet, they felt a powerful shame wash over them. I’m sorry.

There’s no reason to be sorry. I can go get a cup, he said. I don’t mind.

He placed his pen atop a thick stack of papers. Dianthus looked down and realized they couldn’t read the language it was written in.

You’re busy. I can get one for you, they insisted.

He smiled up at them from the dark armrest he sat in. Why don’t we go together? He stood up. He was about a head’s length taller than them, and it wasn’t as if they were short, but Aster stood taller than most people.

That... sounds good.

He passed by them to hold the door open. After you, he said.

Dianthus walked through the door and waited outside for Aster to follow. They glanced around and saw that the hall was empty. They had expected that someone would be with him – some sort of assistant, retainer, or anyone at all, really.

Do you know the way to the kitchen? he asked.

Dianthus thought for a moment, ...I remember. They began to walk down the left-most hallway.

It’s this way, right?

Aster stayed put. It’s the other way, Dia.

Oh... Dianthus turned around on their heel and began to walk the other way.

Is it okay to call you that? I know Rhoswen does sometimes, he asked.

They shrugged. I don’t care what I’m called as long as it is some form of ‘Dianthus’.

Dia is an endearing name.

You think so? they asked.

I do think so, he repeated with a smile. We take a right up here. Usually, you can tell where you are in here by how it looks. The kitchens are older, so if the architecture starts looking different and the bricks are more worn, then you are in the same wing as it. Did you know this?

I didn’t, they said. They had a strong feeling that this information would stick in their mind, unlike all the other directions that had been given multiple times before.

Did my stepmother talk to you?

Dianthus pressed their lips together. Uh, how did you know?

You brought tea to me. We haven’t talked by ourselves ever. Now why would you do that all of a sudden?

They met his dark, nearly black eyes. Is there a problem with that?

No. It’s just curious, he said.

In what way?

I would have expected you to ignore it, he said. Her warning that is.

I’m not going to intrude on Rhoswen’s engagement, they clarified. We aren’t interested in each other that way.

Interest is interest to Lady Larunda and Lorene.

I know, they sighed. She said something along the lines of that.

I want to let you know that I am not opposed, he said.

They blinked, confused. To what?

To marriage.

No, no, no. That isn’t why I came. I’m not here for that.

Then why did you come? he asked.

I was curious about you.

So, there is interest?  

They shook their head, denying it. Hypothetically, what if there is, though? What would you do?

Show interest back, he said plainly.

They frowned at his practiced response. You’re a strange person.

He tilted his head. What makes you say that? We barely know each other and I don’t believe anything about our meeting today has been ‘strange’. He sounded more intrigued than annoyed by the comment.

You have an aura about you, they said.

What kind of aura? I thought you were a believer in the Church? No more than this world, no less. Those sorts of things don’t exist.

I am, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re different. Dianthus stared back at him. Their warm, brown eyes often looked at people in a way that was naturally intense without intending for it to be that way. Dianthus was aware of this since it seemed like people often got uncomfortable when they attempted to maintain eye contact in conversation. They often spoke with their eyes averted because of this.

Their gaze didn’t seem to bother him at all. He laughed in faux nervousness, I hope you mean that in a good way.

You know people well, don’t you? they said.

What makes you say that?

They both rounded the corner, entering a hallway with tall paintings on each side. Their eyes wandered to one of them. It was a painting Dianthus would recognize even with the loss of their memories. The painting was called The Red-Haired Girl in War. It showed a female soldier standing over the bodies of the people of Sedens – the neighboring kingdom to Lovern. It was a cruel painting only made more brutal by how based in reality it was. They saw the horror on their faces and could not help but feel a wave of sadness wash over them like warm water rolling onto the shore, reaching the middle of their shins.

Do you like that painting? he asked, having realized what had caught their attention so firmly.

They couldn’t hide their distress at the level of gore depicted through the oils. Why is it hanging here? It’s out in the open.

His eyes narrowed. Why wouldn’t it be?

It’s quite brutal, they pointed out.

It’s war. Of course, it is. Aster had stopped walking and Dianthus stopped right behind him. The cape draped over his shoulders went halfway down his body and swayed at his sudden stop. They stared up at his slim back.

Is the person real? Dianthus asked. They knew the events that were depicted were recent history, happening within the decade. There had been a slaughter during the war, perpetrated by an unknown Lovern soldier, but this was all they knew.

No. The defector, as they are often depicted in paintings, is a myth made up on the battlefield. The person responsible for the massacre is still unknown, he explained.

They didn’t breathe.

He turned around. There was a pleasant smile painted across his face. Let’s get going. We have a cup to get, after all.

Dianthus sped up to stay by his side. His casual pace was much faster than their own.

What are you doing tonight? he asked abruptly.

I... I have no idea, they said. They often spent their nights reading or looking out at the city below from