Fiction: The Library of Eristat / The Seven Suitors, Chapter 10

A serialized mystery in a fantasy setting.

Author’s note: The Seven Suitors is a novel-length mystery in a fantasy setting I’ll be serializing here. It’s also the follow-up to the Library of Eristat story you may have read. Chapter One can be found here, the previous chapter can be found here.

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Image generated by Midjourney, all text human-written by me and human-edited by Alyssa Sparza

Semote had been awake since the first rays of daylight pierced into his room. The smallest noises from outside had been enough to disturb his rest, with the prospect of dying in his sleep never far from his mind. The makeshift barricade he had set up by the door provided little comfort, as his irrational mind did its best to flood him with an anxiety shouting that nowhere was safe, that he was trapped in this place with something horrible. That he’d missed some line of attack, and that he could be next, if he didn’t run.

Rowena’s castle had felt dangerous even at the start, packed with noblemen lured in by the twisted incentives that defined their purpose in being here. They were possessed of a desire Semote suspected could corrupt almost any heart, the prospect of claiming a treasure they could only dream of possessing otherwise, which was true whether they craved Rowena or the power that came with possessing her. Knowing nothing else about them, he would have suspected the men subject to that temptation to be capable of anything, as one of them clearly had been. And for the first night since he’d arrived, Semote prayed he might finally have some semblance of a plan for how to deal with whoever that was.

Semote chose to linger in the hall outside the guest rooms as he waited for the other guests to greet the morning. Lucien was the first to emerge—curtly acknowledging his presence, but wasting no time in making his exit down the hall. Semote promptly moved to intercept him.

“Could I have a word?”

Lucien blinked at him. “Too late to ask now, isn’t it? Go ahead.”

“I think there’s reason to be suspicious of Darius.”

“You’re a few days late on that bit of news.”

“I saw him leaving Valerian’s room some time after he died. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but the next day I found a dagger in that room, which was gone shortly thereafter. I’m worried he could be our killer, but I’m stuck with no way to prove it.”

Lucien was staring at him wide-eyed. “You should have said something immediately. How long ago was this?”

“It doesn’t matter. I need your help, we have to do something to catch him in the act this time or none of us will be safe.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed as he stared down Semote. “And why are you bringing this to me?”

“You’ve made no secret of your suspicions of Darius. I figured you’d be the most likely to believe me. We have to put an end to this, and I don’t think I can do this without your help.”

Lucien stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “All right. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

After Lucien’s departure, it only took a few minutes of waiting for Cedric to emerge. Semote pulled him aside as well.

“Cedric. You’re the only one who can help me.”

Cedric looked a little surprised to hear that. “Yes, what is it?”

“I think there’s a plot to invade Lithos, and I’m worried Darius might be behind it.”

Cedric’s reaction conveyed all the right shades of surprise and indignation. “How did you find this out?”

“Someone here has been sending notes to the outside world, and my sources tell me there’s a Serenian army gathering. The implication seems obvious.”

Cedric shook his head in disbelief. “This is very bad. Even if we can prove he’s behind it, this is going to make things even worse here. We might all have to prepare for war. But I have to ask, why are you sharing this with me?”

“I know you’d want what’s best for Rowena, and out of anyone you’d know it’s better to see this matter resolved than fight over who gets the credit. I can’t do this alone. We need some solid evidence that he’s behind it.”

Cedric nodded, gazing off in the distance. “Thank you for sharing this with me. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Semote excused himself, and Cedric took off down the hall with newfound purpose. The next to appear was Wesley, looking a little aimless as he stared out into the hall.

“Wesley. There’s something you ought to know.”

Wesley blinked back at him, not really seeming to register the impact of his words. “I’m listening.”

“I think Darius is our poisoner. Two nights ago someone saw a small vial thrown out of his window. I’m convinced he has to be behind it, but I have no proof.”

Wesley stared into space and shook his head. “What a cowardly way to act. Attack a man when he’s defenseless and then try to dispose of the evidence. I’m glad you decided to share this, you won’t regret bringing this to my attention. I’ll see what I can get out of him.”

The last to emerge—or at least, the last that he cared about for his current purposes, was Gideon. Semote walked up to him slowly and began to speak in a conspiratorial tone.

“Gideon. Something’s come to my attention.”

Gideon stared back at him passively, nothing in his expression to betray a hint of enthusiasm or disinterest. “Go ahead.”

“I’m worried Darius could have been involved in the murder of Rowena’s father, using a rare tactile poison acquired from his country. It was likely done to prepare the way for his presence here.”

Gideon frowned, a dark look forming on his face. “That is a very serious accusation. Do you have any proof?”

“None yet. He knows details about the incident I can’t imagine a foreigner knowing, and I believe he has confederates in the area. He may have been looking to destabilize the region, and capitalize on the chaos with his presence here.”

“I hope you haven’t said anything to Hector.” Gideon furrowed his brow. “I’m afraid that any rumor might be enough to set him off, and we would lose our chance to uncover whatever subterfuge he’s set off.”

Semote shook his head. “I’ve only told you. You said you trusted me, now I’m trying to do the same. Keep it to yourself.”

“All right.” Gideon nodded. “We will need to tread carefully until we know more. The truth will come to light in the end.”

Gideon took off with a scowl. Semote let out a breath when he was out of sight, the burden of acting over with for the morning. Darius finally poked his head out of his room.

“So what do I have to look forward to?”

Semote gave him an appreciative look. “A number of baseless accusations. But we shouldn’t be concerned at all with what any of them have to say. It’s what they do next that will tell us everything. Our killer should be convinced he can finally tie one of these crimes back to you. We’ll just have to see how he does it.”

Darius sighed, still looking nervous. “Do I need to worry about one of them trying to send Hector after me?”

“I’ve told Hector and Rowena what to expect. He’s agreed to stay out of the way for now. Just play your part, and we’ll see what happens.”

---

The tensions at the castle seemed to have reached a boiling point. When Semote reached the main entrance hall, Lucien stood by a wall at right angles to Cedric and Gideon both, with none of them apparently willing to acknowledge any of the others. Lucien broke the stalemate as he set off in Semote’s direction.

“Walk with me.”

Semote complied, and found himself walking back the way he had come. Lucien looked as serious as a lord posing for a portrait set to hang for a century, with his usual haughty manner seeming to have abandoned him.

Lucien looked over at Semote when they were out of earshot of the main hall. “We need to talk about what happens next.”

“I assumed that was proving Darius’s guilt.”

Lucien waved a hand dismissively. “I have no doubt we’ll find something if what you say is true. I’m concerned about what happens afterwards. Once this matter is resolved, the princess will almost certainly make her choice based upon what she knows so far.”

“Are you worried you’re not ready for it to be resolved?”

Lucien tapped his boot on the ground, staring down as he did so. “When Rowena picks a husband, the balance of power will change dramatically in Aeolia. Our laws and traditions will be at the mercy of a house that may finally have enough power to reforge them. It won’t do to be on the wrong side of it. The wrong man could ruin everything for all of us. I hope when the time comes, you’ll advise her to pick wisely.”

That was an odd thing to say. “I’m not sure why you’d think I would have more influence than anyone else—”

“Just think about what I said, all right?” Lucien cut him off. “That’s all.”

Lucien broke off, leaving Semote standing in front of the guest rooms by himself. Off in the distance, Wesley seemed to be having an argument with Darius, who was offering up feeble protestations to no avail. He looked over helplessly at Semote—who gave him a quick smile and ducked out of sight.

The hours continued to stretch by without incident. Semote chose to abandon his post near the guest rooms, for fear of spooking anyone who might be planning to try anything. He took an aimless tour of the castle as he continued his waiting exercise. If nothing came of all this, he would have some difficult explanations to concoct as to why he spent the day stirring the pot and spreading suspicions.

Semote’s circuit of the castle took him by Skye, who was sitting in the library. He poked his head in the door.

“Could you keep an eye out for anything unusual?”

“More unusual than half a dozen men having the run of our ancestral home, you mean?”

“Just...keep an eye out.”

Semote set off back towards the guest rooms. He hesitated, wondering if he was overthinking things, then decided to check Darius’s room again. It was empty of occupants, just the same array of items spread around the room. Darius seemed to have very little anyone would want to steal. But if he was going to hide anything precious somewhere…feeling a little guilty as he did so, Semote brought his head down to check underneath the bed.

And there it was, the dagger. The weapon linking to Valerian’s murder. Not anything suggesting communication with a foreign army, nothing related to the poisoning of Alexander, and nothing to suggest a connection to the death of Rowena’s father. Instead, the dagger was back. And from the looks of it, just the dagger. Nothing else in the room appeared out of place.

Semote’s heart began to race at the sound of footsteps, making a split-second decision to leave the dagger and return to the hall. Semote did his best to steady himself as he saw Cedric approaching with a glum look on his face. “I haven’t learned anything. We’ll need to bring this to Rowena, see what she—”

“Cedric. Could you come with me for a minute?” Semote gestured towards one of the other doors. “I want to have someone along for this. I think I know where we need to check next.”

Cedric looked confused, but nodded, as Semote opened the door to Lucien’s room. It was the first time he’d been inside, possibly the only suitor’s room he had yet to visit. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he hoped he’d know it when he found it.

“A question for you, by the way.”

Cedric looked like he was feeling a little uncomfortable searching through another man’s things, but nodded back at Semote.

“How did you figure out the second riddle the other day?”

“Odd time to be asking, don’t you think?” Cedric peeked under the bed, with a predictable lack of success. “If you really want to know, I guessed.”

Semote stopped checking underneath a pile of clothes to look up. “You guessed?”

Cedric nodded. “I heard Lucien and Darius came up short despite successfully answering the first riddle. I figured that my odds of getting it right myself were probably pretty poor at that point. So I took a chance. And as it happened, it worked out.”

“Really.” Semote muttered, shaking his head. “That’s certainly an interesting approach.”

“Would you take a look at this?” Cedric was peering into the corner of Lucien’s wardrobe.

Semote leaned in, as Cedric pulled out a miniature lamp, with a tiny flint attached. He wasn’t sure why Lucien would own one, but there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about it in and of itself.

“What about it?”

“I believe something like this is commonly used to signal carrier pigeons, to tell them where to land.” Cedric looked at the item for a second longer, then turned his gaze back to Semote. “How did you say that someone had been sending notes to the outside?”

“Carrier p—”

The door burst open behind the two of them, and a breathless Lucien appeared. “What the hell are the two of you—never mind. You’ll never believe what I found in Darius’s room.”

“Could you have a seat, Lucien?” Semote motioned him inside. “You too, Cedric. This may take a minute.”

Lucien looked confused, but came inside and shut the door. “I assume you’ve reached the same conclusion I have about all of this?”

“I think we probably both know who did this, yes.” Semote stood up and looked the other man squarely in the eye. “Let’s start with Valerian’s death.”

Lucien shrugged. “I think you’ll find the matter resolved to your satisfaction. It appears that Darius has been—”

“Darius didn’t do it. It would have been fairly stupid of him to attempt it in fact. He wanders off alone, Valerian dies to a foreigner’s weapon, and he would expect to get away with it? Even if it had been some crime of passion, I can’t picture him coming back to the castle with no attempt to make it look like a robbery, and sticking around to await a likely execution.”

“Unless he thought that nonsense would serve as a believable excuse.” Lucien snapped back. “Now if you’ll just listen to me—”

“The murderer only felt safe returning to the scene of the crime because he thought someone else would take the blame. I think that our killer committed the crime knowing he’d have someone to pin it on. Darius separated from you and Gideon that day, so you knew no one could vouch for his whereabouts. He had even told you he was traveling without a weapon you could claim he hid. It must have seemed like an easy victory to have him take the fall for it.”

Lucien shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking—”

“You probably thought the princess would be paralyzed with indecision after that point. But Alexander and I were able to alibi each other. And the next day, you tell me you’re worried that if nothing happens, the princess will be forced to pick myself or Alexander. Alexander succeeds in guessing the second riddle, and ends up being poisoned that night. You may have even been the only one to consider him a serious threat, our friend Gideon never thought he had much of a chance.”

Lucien’s face was beginning to turn red. “I can explain—”

“Then we’re back to being stuck with no obvious winner. I excuse myself from the competition that day, Alexander is out of commission, so you’re back to your backup plan. Months ago, you had an argument with Rowena’s father, and ended his life with a tactile poison acquired from a foreign power. Convinced the princess will be unable to make a choice and the kingdom was about to be left ripe for plunder, you try to send a letter out that night to tip off a foreign army. I almost catch you in the act, then you make a break for it and slip into a sitting room where you pretended to be resting until I found you. Have I missed anything?”

“Yes.” Lucien responded sharply. “You don’t have the slightest bit of proof.”

“We have the candle you’ve been using to signal the carrier pigeon. I’ve known that someone has been trying to frame Darius since they tried to have him take the fall for the poisoning. Darius didn’t know where the dagger was, but as soon as I mention to you the possibility he might have it, it shows up in his room.”

Lucien’s face was livid. “You think you’re so damn smart, don’t you.”

Semote shrugged. “I’m just trying to protect my interests here.”

“Cut the crap.” Lucien spat. “We both know you didn’t come here to win.”

“Maybe not.” Semote was a little surprised at that assertion, but he did his best not to let it phase him. “But neither did you, I suspect. You were perfectly willing to have her pick yourself, or no one. And you’d win either way.”

Lucien glowered at the both of them. “Get out of my way.”

“If you come quietly with us, we can see you get a different kind of justice than Hector would be willing to provide. All you have to do—”

In a flash, the curved dagger—the blade that had killed Valerian—was in Lucien’s hands. “Get out of my way, Semote, or I will run you through.”

Semote’s throat suddenly felt dry, as he realized he was unarmed. As he tried to brace himself, Lucien rammed into his side, knocking him breathless, and bolted out of the room.

“Get up.” Cedric grabbed his hand pulled him to his feet. “We need to go after him. But…what did he call you?”

“Never mind.” Semote sighed. “We need to protect Rowena.”

The two of them raced down to the main hall, with Lucien nowhere in sight. Semote nodded to Cedric. “Go tell her what happened, I’ll find Hector. If Lucien is going to run, we may have no choice.”

Semote sprinted through the halls, eventually hearing the sound of rushed footsteps, and headed off in their direction. Hector had a gleam in his eye, and one hand on the hilt of his sword as he rushed down the hall. “Hector, it’s Lucien—”

“So I’ve learned.” Hector called back. “Don’t worry, you’ve done your part. I’ll settle his debts for you.”

Semote sighed, as the other man barreled onward. This was not how he had envisioned this going. If all he had cared about was finding someone for Hector to punish for the crimes, finding proof wouldn’t have even been necessary. One last circuit of the castle to try to intercept Lucien turned up nothing, but did have him almost running into Skye.

The two of them froze a few inches apart from a disastrous collision. But Skye seemed more worried than offended.

Skye spoke first. “Listen, have you seen Lucien?”

“Not recently enough. Have you?”

Skye nodded. “I think he was looking for you. He was over in the guest rooms just now. I saw him coming out of your room. He must have just missed you.”

Odd. Why wouldn’t he just run away? “Good thing I wasn’t there then.”

“Silas!” It was Gideon’s turn to approach him. He had a dark look on his face. “Where’s Lucien?”

“I—”

“I fear he may have been involved in the murder of Rowena’s father after all. Around the time we met with Owen, I had heard rumors of someone trafficking in rare poisons, with his name being mentioned. I just confronted him about it, but Hector overheard us. Lucien took off, and I wasn’t able to stop Hector. I’m afraid he’s out for blood.”

“At least it won’t be that of an innocent man this time.” Semote shook his head. “I’ll explain later. We need to find them as quickly as we can.”

“Agreed.” Gideon strapped his sword to his side. “They’re both armed, I suggest you prepare yourself and join the search at once.”

Semote nodded weakly, and took off back to the main hall. Cedric was just emerging from meeting with the princess.

“Did you tell her what we found?”

“Yes.” Cedric closed the door behind him. He was unwilling, or unable to meet Semote’s gaze. “Except for the ‘we’ part. And she’s not taking any more visitors after me.”

Semote stopped short. Too much was happening too fast for him to keep track of it all. “What are you talking about?”

“I may have taken the credit.” Cedric was staring down at his own shoes. “I know what you must be thinking, I realize you’ll probably never forgive me. But if you knew how much I loved her, perhaps you might.”

The past week had been a strange exercise in living a double life for Semote. He had been forced to keep up a passable imitation of the emotions he was supposed to be feeling as a suitor for Rowena’s hand, while masking all his genuine reactions. Semote knew that he should be feeling anger, betrayal, and revulsion at the other man’s actions. But in reality, all he was able to process at that point was the simple emotion of pity.

“I don’t know what you were thinking.” Semote finally managed to get the words out, staring at the other man in disbelief. “But believe me, this will not prove to have been a smart move on your part.”

Cedric had a guilty look on his face. “I’ve seen how you’ve been over this last week, you’ll be fine however this turns out. I know this doesn’t mean to you what it does to me. If you felt the way I do about her, you would understand.”

Semote grit his teeth, resisting the urge to say that Cedric understood nothing about his reasons for being there, nothing about how he felt. “I do not have time for this. Right now we need to find Lucien.”

Their search soon took them outside, where they saw two figures standing out by the collapsed stage. Semote approached slowly, not wanting to provoke anyone to run, but soon realized it was too late for that. Wesley and Gideon were staring down at the ground in front of them.

“You need to see this for yourselves.” Wesley’s voice was on edge. As Semote approached, he saw two bodies lying on the ground, racked with scars and multiple wounds. Both lay perfectly still. As he drew closer, he was finally able to identify them both. Lucien was lying motionless, with Hector’s sword sticking out of his chest. And Hector, dead on the ground, with the dagger that killed Valerian buried in his flesh.

---

“Was this your idea of a clean resolution?”

Semote sighed, not wanting to meet Rowena’s eyes. Her gaze wasn’t overly harsh. It just stung with disappointment.

“I confronted Lucien, told him what I knew. I gave him the option to come quietly with us. He threatened to kill me, and ran. I didn’t have a choice.”

Rowena nodded bitterly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to blame you. You’ve done everything I asked of you. Solved every crime. But I wanted the chance to speak with him face to face. I can’t believe he would do something like this. I didn’t want to believe it of any of them. But now I’m afraid I’ll never understand why.”

Semote hesitated, not sure if what he was going to say next would make Rowena feel better or worse. “I don’t think he trusted you to pick the right man. He seemed concerned about the outcome if you chose poorly.”

“So he was prepared to force me to pick no one and plunder my kingdom for himself?” Rowena shook her head. “There’s nothing you could say that will excuse his actions. The fault is his alone. But I’m still left with my own dilemma. We’ve heard reports of a Serenian army gathering as we had suspected. They must still think there’s a chance that my house will fail after all this.”

“Which you don’t intend to let happen.”

“I do not.” Rowena sighed and looked over at Semote. “I need to resolve the manner of my succession, and as definitively as possible. Which means a noble.”

Semote nodded. “We have a few of those.”

“Yes.” Rowena took a deep breath. “Yes, yes, we do. And just five I think.” She gave him a small smile. “If this was all a story, this is where you would tell me you were actually the true-born heir of some far-off kingdom. There’s no noble blood hiding on your father’s side?”

Semote felt his heart beat faster, as he allowed himself to enjoy a brief three seconds where he could imagine her thinking of him as an equal, before deflating the prospect completely. “None on either side. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to dreaming about it as a child. But I have it on the authority of the world’s leading expert on organizing truth, who has done the research, that I am not of noble birth. And my mother does not lie to me.”

Rowena smiled sadly. “If it’s any consolation, at least you’ll never be forced to marry like this. You’ll have your whole life ahead of you after you leave. But before you do, I would take one final piece of advice.” Rowena sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “You’ve gotten me this far. I’d like to know your honest opinion of where we stand with everyone. You don’t have to take responsibility for my choice. But as a friend, I want to hear what you think.”

Semote felt something well up in his eyes at those words, brushing it away as he tried to think despite the chaos of the day’s events. This is what it had all been building up to. He took a breath and began to speak. “My opinions on Alexander have not changed. Wesley seems to have largely given up after he was no longer able to see himself as being the frontrunner. I’m not sure his commitment to all of this is as sincere as it should be.”

“Understandable.” Rowena’s expression didn’t waver.

“Darius hasn’t had an easy time, being accused of murder and under the threat of execution. But I still think he should have handled it better. If he had told either of us what he knew, we might have been able to resolve this much sooner.”

Rowena nodded. “I would also agree.”

“Cedric...” Semote sighed, unsure of what to say. “Cedric seems like he cares more than anyone. But I’m not convinced he’s ready. He tried to take credit for what I learned about Lucien. I think he would rather pretend to be someone he’s not if it meant he could have you.”

“Which leaves us with Gideon.” Rowena looked at him carefully. “Is he all you’re left with, or do you really have a favorable impression?”

Semote nodded. “I do. He seems to have behaved honorably through all of this, not wanting to see the wrong man suffer. He told me he’d be willing to support me as an outsider against whoever might object to such a pairing. I can’t speak to how he feels about you, but he seems like he would be a strong leader.”

“We have reached the same conclusion then.” Rowena gazed off into the distance. “I’ll have a word with him shortly. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

Semote moved to excuse himself, then looked back at Rowena. “A personal question.”

Rowena returned his gaze. “Yes?”

“Do you love him?”

Rowena gave a small smile at that. “Ask me again in a year. That will be the real test, however I feel right now. Hopefully whatever he feels for me will be enough.”

---

Neither Rowena or Skye made it down to dinner that night. After their initial confusion died down, the handful of them that were left realized they were stuck eating on their own. Alexander was finally feeling well enough to join them, and Cedric spent some time bringing him up to speed on the latest events. Darius looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, eating with an enthusiasm Semote hadn’t seen from him since before Valerian’s death. Wesley’s thoughts still seemed to be elsewhere, staring into space. It was Gideon who finally gave the group the piece of news they had been waiting to hear.

“Rowena and I are to be married. We’ve sent the word out already, so there will be no doubt as to the future of our right to rule. Our time is obviously limited, so we intend to have it done quickly. You are all welcome to stay here until the wedding. She asked me to thank each one of you for being there for her during this difficult time.”

The group was stuck with a dumbfounded silence for several seconds. Darius was the first to speak.

“It seems congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” Gideon nodded appreciatively.

Cedric was staring at him in disbelief. “So that’s it, then.”

Gideon nodded. “It would appear so.”

“Let me ask you something then.” Cedric leaned forward. “Do you really think you deserve her? That you’ll be able to make her happy?”

The room grew quiet, as everyone seemed to avoid eye contact with the two of them.

“No to the first. And I intend to do my best on the second.” Gideon’s voice was low and calm when he finally spoke. “There’s a story I’ve heard told about the quest for perfection that may illustrate what I mean.”

Gideon looked around to make sure he had everyone’s attention, then continued. “Once, there was a kingdom plagued by corruption. From its rulers on down to its tax collectors, everyone who could was abusing the public trust, skimming gold off for their personal gain, and twisting the laws to their own benefit. Some members of its governing body had grown fed up with the situation, so they hired a man to investigate the state of affairs, and bring them back proof of corruption.

“It didn’t take him long to find evidence at the lowest ranks. His employers were pleased to learn of his findings, and suggested he could share them and be on his way. But the man’s suspicions were aroused, so he chose to dig deeper. And he uncovered proof that the problem wasn’t local, it wasn’t just a few bad apples, it was institutional. From the tax collectors on to their managers, waste and theft were not just tolerated, but encouraged. His employers were ecstatic, they told him to present his findings, and he’d be richly rewarded. But still the man chose to dig deeper.

“He began to investigate the men at the highest levels of government, and learned that some of them too were benefiting from the abuses of power, taking bribes to overlook channeled funds. His employers were beyond words at this point. Many of their rivals would lose power in the aftermath of the scandal, whole sections of the government would stand to be replaced. They were poised to gain greatly in power and influence. They congratulated this man, and told him he had done everything they could ask, but to waste no more time and share what he knew. But still this man kept digging.

“And when the man reached the end of his investigations, he learned a truth he could not tolerate. That his employers themselves were party to the abuse that he had uncovered. That throughout the ranks of the government, there was not an innocent man to be found. So what do you think he did?”

“Expose the worst offenders?” Darius asked.

Gideon shook his head. “No. This man thought about right and wrong like a child did. That it would simply be enough to speak the truth, and all else would follow. He revealed his findings in public, accusing everyone involved, including the very men who had hired him. When they realized how far his accusations spread, the rulers got together and realized their only option was to discredit him. And so they did. They said his accusations were baseless, the ravings of a lunatic. The madman of Eristat, they called him. Against a united front, he left in disgrace, having come to put a stop to the worst examples of corruption, but in the end unable to accomplish anything at all.”

Gideon peered into his drink solemnly, then continued to speak. “I’m not saying I disapprove of this man for what he tried to do, but the truth is that like every government, every man has his faults. Myself included, we all have our sins and our failings, that if brought to light, could cast shame on us all. The best we can hope for is the grace to overlook them, and that they don’t prove to be as grave as they could be. The sad reality of our lives is that if every bit of unfairness that affects us was taken away, and all our faults made known, there’s not a man among us who would be left standing.”

---

Alexander had been right about one thing at least. The wedding had been even more impressive than the funeral, and not just because the tears in observance had smiles underneath them. It felt like the whole country had come out to celebrate the next chapter in their history, with a dizzying array of styles of dress on display. A group of young women smiled at Semote as he passed by, their voices hushing as though taking a break from discussing the mysterious foreigner involved in the princess’s affairs. Semote tried to smile back, even though his heart wasn’t in it. He had no desire to keep up the ruse any more than he had to, and he doubted they’d have the same level of interest in a simple commoner from afar.

The night moved from one ceremony and ritual to the next, as the masses cheered on the happy couple. As the festivities began to die down, Semote decided to take one final visit to see the princess. He hoped she was genuinely as happy as the show she put on would suggest. He navigated through a dense crowd of locals and foreigners—none of whom he recognized—to reach the tent set aside for the princess to rest in. Figuring she would have no reason to complain, Semote permitted himself to step inside, and made a quick scan of the area to find the princess. The flawless arrangement of her hair was to be expected, as were the flowers adorning her dress. But not the dagger sticking out of her chest.

Semote dropped to the ground in a cold sweat, kneeling down to examine the body. There was no mistaking it. Rowena had been stabbed, a pool of blood gathered around her. She was motionless, no sign of breath or heartbeat, her body already cooling to the touch.

This made five murders now. Four of them on his watch. Rowena’s father. Valerian. Lucien. Hector. And now Rowena herself. All the possibilities for who could have wanted to do this shot through Semote’s mind, as he found himself contemplating the suspects for a murder that should never have been allowed to happen. This was impossible. It was unthinkable. Semote shook his head, feeling his eyes well up, like something inside him was breaking apart. What could he have missed, how could he have…

A sharp pain ripped through his center, as Semote felt himself collapse onto the ground. He tried to steel his nerves, but the agony he was experiencing was no longer just emotional. Reaching around to his back to find its source, he felt something firm, then a second sharp pain hit him as he heard a ripping sound from the blade being yanked out of him.

No. Semote clenched his fists, and tried to turn to one side, to evade, stop the bleeding, to catch a glimpse of the killer, anything. Idiot. You didn’t check the room first. Focus, this can not end here. He fumbled onto one side, but saw nothing as he strained his head, his mind already growing faint from loss of blood. The tent seemed empty again—the killer must have already made his escape, leaving himself a victim of terrible timing.

Semote blinked, begging, willing for it to be different, for some answer to break through to make any sense of this madness, straining to focus his mind and body, as a tall dark figure began to flicker in and out of his vision, like lightning reflected on glass.

“The first question, then. Why did you end up here?”

Semote strained his neck to identify the speaker, attempting to place the voice, running through possible scenarios of who it could be. None of them, as it turns out, were correct.

The woman was dressed head to toe in black, her outline blurry and indistinct as she stared down at him, like a specter from a book. Or like a depiction he had seen of Moriae. The goddess of Death.

Semote’s head was swimming as he tried to force a coherent thought out. “I’m hallucinating. This can’t be real.”

The woman laughed softly, her voice muted and cold. “It is, although I can understand your confusion. You’re showing remarkable persistence. So much for what they say about no atheists in a time of crisis.”

The scene from days ago flashed back into his mind. The legend Rowena had told him about. Challenging death to three riddles. “Even under its own terms, this can’t be… I didn’t…”

The woman in black glanced over at Rowena’s corpse. “One of my faithful interceded on your behalf, asking me to ensure that you were given a chance. That alone was intriguing. Even after you failed her so completely, she still put her faith in you.” The woman turned back to him. “I assume you understand how this works. Three riddles to decide your fate. The first: why did you end up here?”

Semote shook his head, still not able to process what was happening. “Not possible.” Semote muttered to himself, his eyes falling back on Rowena’s body, which was remaining fixed under his gaze, unlike the figure of the woman in black, the veritable image of Death brought to life. “False superstitions. This world is grounded in math, there are no gods, no fate, no…”

“My patience is not infinite.” The voice sent a chill through him. “If you have no interest in taking your chance, let us be done with it. For the last time: why did you end up here?”

Fine. What do I have to lose? Semote responded on instinct, spitting the words out. “Because I failed at the one thing I set out to do. I didn’t solve the puzzle in time. That, and loss of blood from trauma threatening to terminate the organ hosting my consciousness.”

“Correct.” Moriae’s voice was a cackle, devoid of empathy. “I won’t even make you guess which of those I was asking for. Second. Why is it that you want to live?”

Semote started to speak, then stopped himself. There were secrets he had told himself he would hold even unto the point of death, secrets that would set the world on fire if they were shared, triggering a war of all against all for powers humans were never meant to wield…

“Nothing comes to mind?” The woman in black sighed. “Fine then…”

Semote grit his teeth. “Because I believe that the world is on a course for destruction. And I need to find a way to change that.”

Moriae’s face rippled as she laughed, a deep hollow sound that echoed in the still air. “As hubristic of an answer as I’ve ever heard. You might even rival Enoch himself. But I suppose I’ll allow it, as you do seem to believe it. And for your final question, let’s see. How about a simple one. A query posed by any number of children, asked and answered across the world.” Hints of a dark smile played across her face. “Tell me, what makes the sun shine in the sky?”

Semote closed his eyes, feeling the chill within him spread, like all the life and energy was slowly leaking out of him, as he desperately tried to recall everything he’d read in the Tenebrous Codex, to put those mad ramblings into an intelligible form before he lost the coherence of mind to do so, or the grim specter lost her patience…

“The sun shines as a result of fusion between the simplest atomic, indivisible elements that make up the world. Its heat creates a reactor with sufficient temperature and pressure to fuse elementary particles, releasing incredible quantities of energy, powering its own reactions and leaking the overflow across the vacuum of space in the form of heat and light. It is this force, the conversion of mass into energy, which makes life possible. It is that same force that has the potential to destroy it. Is that sufficient, or do you require the equations as well?”

It was only after he said the words that Semote realized they might be a bluff. Even if he remembered everything he had read perfectly, it was possible his forays into the Codex up to this point were still insufficient to render all the reactions he was describing in mathematics. But the woman seemed not to care, as she stared at him in what looked like astonishment.

“Impossible.” Moriae seemed to hiss out her response as she gazed down at him. “Who exactly are you?”

Even here, even now, Semote felt himself tense up, the weight of the knowledge he was carrying threatening to crush him. “I’m someone who’s read a lot of books.”

“There is no book capable of being written by anyone alive which should have that level of detail.” The woman’s eyes bore into him as she drew closer, piercing through him in a way that would have left him feeling exposed even if his insides weren’t slowly becoming his outsides. “And whatever your patron back home may believe about your intelligence, I do not think you are capable of deriving knowledge of this kind by yourself. Fascinating. And you say you aim to avert the destruction of the world?”

Unsure how to respond, Semote nodded, his chest still heaving to breathe after the exertion from his speech.

The woman shook her head dismissively. “A fool’s errand. You never had any chance of succeeding in your quest. You are a blunt instrument, and the forces arranged against you are subtle and insidious. Even if you had avoided the fate you met here, you would have been torn apart in a thousand different ways in a thousand different places. This pain and this failure is the only place your efforts could have led. You should have desisted.”

“It needed to be done.” Semote wheezed out the words, feeling the dark spots creeping in at the edge of his vision, as he asked himself why he was spending his last breaths arguing with a hallucination.

The woman frowned at him. “You have the drive, at least. And despite your performance here, if you have internalized the physics of nuclear fire, I suppose you can’t be a complete idiot. You are still hopelessly outmatched for the task you wish to undertake. But there may be room to nudge the odds in your favor."

“I don’t understand—”

“Your understanding is not required.” Moriae sighed. "You would have been far from my first choice. But as it happens we are both running out of time, the irony of which is not lost on me.” The woman knelt down as she looked him over. “It may even already be too late. The board is already set, and pieces are in motion. But there still may be a way to change the outcome. I am prepared to make a pact, to make you my vessel in this realm.”

A shiver colder than death ran through Semote, testing the limits of his denial of superstition. “I’m not going to become a servant of Death…”

“That word is a mistranslation.” The woman’s eyes sharpened as she looked down at him. “I do not grant mastery over Death, or any of the other boons I have been begged for. The gift I can offer is less coveted. But even mastery over Death, if there was such a thing, or the power to level cities can not compare to what can be done with my gift in the right hands. I am not the goddess of Death. I am the goddess of Fate. Or to the more literal-minded such as yourself, the goddess of Time.”

“I don’t believe—”

"I am not some charlatan looking for converts. I do not require your belief or even your understanding.” The woman in black extended her hand. “But I do need your explicit consent. You should know that everyone who has ever possessed this gift has regretted taking it in the end, judging it as a curse. It may grant you more misery than you have ever known, cheated of an easy escape, and still leaving you still at the mercy of your enemies if they outwit you. But it can also offer a way to change fate. Yours, and the world’s. Knowing all of this, do you accept?"

Semote’s chest felt like it was on fire, his vision melting into a sea of black around him, as a single thought filled him, a refusal to let things end this way. He felt himself grasping her hand.

“Good.” The woman gazed down at him. “Semote of Verent, I charge you with fulfilling the purpose that drew you back. Change the fate of the world.”

Semote coughed, unable to respond, hardly able to breathe.

“Listen carefully.” Moriae’s voice became more urgent. “You still have time to fix this. The way of the coward and the hero are both still open to you. To be done with the business of these elites you despise, or to avenge the princes, save the princess, and play the hero. It is not over yet. But I am afraid you’re going to have to start now. And I do mean right now.”

His vision was turning to black, even the sensation of the pain itself beginning to fade away…

“You are running out of time, Semote.” The woman’s voice became urgent. “Get up. Now.”

Semote felt a sharp cold pierce through him as one final shiver threatened to tear his consciousness apart…

Moriae was screaming at him. “WAKE UP. NOW.”

There was a terrible wrenching feeling, like every muscle was being ripped out of his body at the same time. A scream was on his lips that erupted into a muffled whimper as his voice found itself, sitting up in bed.

Semote rubbed his hand over his head, and tried to place where he was. It was still the night after Lucien’s death, they had eaten dinner and gone to bed. The wedding was tomorrow, there had been no ceremony, no assassination, no murder. The ending of the dream was burned into his memory, but all the surrounding details were already beginning to fade away. All he could remember clearly was those last few minutes, starting with finding Rowena’s body. Everything he had witnessed after that was impossible. But against all reason it had felt real, as real as the bed he was laying in right now.

Semote blinked the sleep out of his eyes, his mind still racing. If the Tenebrous Codex was to be believed, supernatural experiences like the one he just had were impossible, laws of math and not myth governed reality. If the experience he just had was to be believed, the Codex was accurate in its description of the world, prophesying the potential of nuclear fire. Hence, a contradiction. His dream would assert the Codex was true, but the Codex would assert his dream was false. It was as simple as one of the logic puzzles he had presented to the suitors, the dream he had just experienced was self-refuting.

Unless…there were still pages in the Codex yet untranslated, mechanisms behind the function of reality that might not yet be revealed. Perhaps the gods themselves wielded powers according to laws expressible in mathematical constructs, there could be deeper laws, systems within systems…

No. Semote shook his head, rubbing his eyes as the mundane reality of his room began to set in. The most parsimonious explanation, the simplest consistent description of the world he could apply to his own experience is that the dream was simply a product of his own mind. He was understandably still anxious from the tension of living with the threat of a murderer for a week, still subconsciously probing for cracks in the theories he had formed, unsettled by the prospect of something he might have missed.

Semote tried to lay back in bed and thought about closing his eyes, but realized that even if he had wanted to, he was far too tense to sleep. Lighting the lamp in his room, he took a seat on the chair and stared up at the ceiling, thinking over the past week’s events, and what could still be bothering him, even now.

It was then that he noticed it. At the top edge of his bedframe, someone had carved a message. He was positive that it hadn’t been there last night. It looked like it had been inscribed with a dagger. There were three words, crudely formed.

He knows everything.

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To be continued in Chapter 11, available here:

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Serialization is the best medium because no one could prove whether this was the last chapter or not. It’s much harder to be fooled by an early ending if you see you’ve got a suspicious number of pages remaining.

Almost last call to share any theories/Tarot card allocations of suitors below!