There was not a single soul in the gardens save for Asiah and Kavaris and the crickets and fireflies who had made their homes there. The cobblestone path they walked on cut straight through the valley of eliacra flowers, blooming without abandon on either side. There were clusters of tall well-trimmed trees and tiny shrubs scattered along the pathway, too.
"I've never seen so many eliacras before," she said aloud. They had stopped their walk and she was squatting in front of said flower, wanting desperately to reach out a finger to touch it but unsure of whether or not that was a good idea.
"Truly?" Kavaris was squatting next to her. "They used to grow all over the place...er, in my time."
"They only grow in places where the power of the gods is abundant, don't they?" When he nodded, she continued, "That explains why they don't grow anymore, then. The gods have long since abandoned us."
It was quiet for a long while save for the chirping of the crickets and the rush of the far-off waterfall. She feared she had said the wrong thing--that she had hurt him--and she cut a glance at him. He was gazing at the flowers as if there was a whole world within their shining petals that only he could see. His face was forlorn.
And then he asked, "When did the gods disappear? Do you know?"
Asiah tore her gaze away from him. There was something too raw in his gaze. Him missing his family reminded her very much of her own longing to see her sisters. She had been allowed to leave her father's estate under the pretext she was to prepare for her soon-to-be engagement to Duke Everett, but now she would never return. Her sisters would be forced to marry some unsavory man in her place when they were of age, and it sickened her just to think about it. She focused on the topic at hand so she wouldn't scream.
"Everyone says something different. If you ask the common folk, they'll tell you the gods disappeared after men waged war after war and painted the continent in blood. If you ask the nobles, they will tell you the gods had planned to abandon us all along. They will tell you the gods entrusted the royals and the nobles with the world and that common folk should follow their lead. And then, if you ask the priestesses, they will tell you the gods disappeared when Magdellana did, after the death of Eremiel."
Kavaris sucked in a sharp breath. Asiah looked at him to find his golden eyes wide with horror.
"Eremiel is dead?"
Ah. There was grief in his voice and regret flooded through her. She had forgotten that for him, the gods weren't just fairytales or long-forgotten myths. To him, they had been family. He had known Eremiel, based on that look in his eye, and he would mourn him.
She averted her gaze, staring at the flowers in front of her hard. "No one knows the business of the gods, so I cannot say. But the stories the priestesses tell say he's dead, yes. At Athora's hand."
"The story..." he took a deep breath, but Asiah didn't turn to see his face. "Will you tell it to me?"
She had no desire to be the bearer of bad news and she wanted to tell him as much, but she did no such thing. She owed him. She had attempted to steal a gift from his long-gone mother and even now, she was still out and about because he had lied to buy her time. She could give him this after receiving so much.
She told him the story she had heard time and time again in the pews of the temple at the turn of every season. How Eremiel, the good-natured god of the stars and Magdellana's first son, had been tricked by Athora--Magdellana's sister and mother of darkness and all that dwells within it. How Athora's son, Arolth--the god of death--had convinced Eremiel, with his mother's help, to participate in a race to the riverbank that was now the Empire's Rosalind River. She spoke of how, halfway through the run, Arolth had placed his blood--which was poisonous to even gods--into a goblet of water and offered it to Eremiel. And the god of the stars, ever trusting and none the wiser, drank from the goblet and died.
"Magdellana felt his death and ran to him, only to be greeted by his corpse. Holding her lifeless son in her arms, she used every ounce of her strength to seal away Athora and her Children. And then she cried and cried for an entire month without stopping and her tears would eventually make the sea that surrounds Eldyngrove, Magdellana's Tears. All that she could do was preserve what was left of her son's soul and she placed him there, next to the moon so that he may be among the stars he loved so much." She pointed at the second moon.
Kavaris gazed up at it, too, seeing it for the first time. "I had thought..." he paused, gathering himself. "I had wondered why there were two moons when there had only been one before. I suppose now I know."
Her heart twisted in her chest. "I'm sorry. The gods are like...characters in a play for the rest of us. But to you, they were people you loved."
He stared at the second moon for a few seconds longer before he looked at her, smiling though it did not reach his eyes.
"I shouldn't have expected things to be the same when I returned. Grandmother warned me that things would have changed. Although she cannot see into the future the way Norello can, she often has prophetic inklings from time to time. She warned me when I woke, they might all be gone. But I was so caught up in Ariadne's loss, I could think of nothing else."
"At the risk of sounding ill-mannered, what was she like? Ariadne?" When Kavaris said nothing and only stared at her with an unfathomable look on his face, she hastily said, "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I'm only curious. The stories say she was Magdellana's favorite priestess."
"I don't think you ill-mannered," Kavaris said slowly. He was still looking at her with that unfathomable gaze. "It's only...Ariadne was a lot like you."
Her eyes widened. "Like me?"
He nodded. "We grew up together, she and I. We were childhood friends before we were lovers. Before Grandmother accepted her as a priestess, she was a lot like you. Unsure of herself and reserved, but brave and intelligent. She would do all for those she loved. She would put her very soul on the line to protect what she cared for. In the end, that was exactly what she did."
Asiah thought back on the story old nan used to tell her as a child. In the old tale, Ariadne, the only priestess who could use the power of Light at will, receives word that one of the dark gods--who remained nameless since there was a belief that saying the names of the dark gods invited them to wreak havoc on one's life--is ransacking a village and plans to destroy all of what would soon become known as the kingdom of Alterra. Without thinking, she goes straight to where the dark god is, knowing she is the only one with enough power to stop him. And she does defeat him, only it's at the cost of her life.
She looked over at Kavaris, feeling like someone had torn a hole through her chest. How awful it must be to wait for your love for centuries upon centuries only to be released and learn that your family is gone and your love has still not returned.
"You are like her in many ways," he said, reminding her that they were still in the middle of a conversation. "Even the way you speak is similar." He grinned. "It's quite eerie."
"Perhaps, I'm a distant relative," Asiah pondered. "Did you and Ariadne ever--"
"If you're asking if we've ever conceived a child, no we didn't. You are not of my bloodline, Asiah. Believe me." And he gave Asiah a look that seemed to bore down on her like both the suns were high in the sky. Her entire body flushed under that gaze.