Page 35 of Unseen Eye
Despite my best efforts, I can’t find anything on why Morosith would seek out evil. Something dramatic had to have happened for him to turn to down this path. His fall from grace must have been cataclysmic, driven by betrayal, loss, or a deep corruption that I still don’t fully understand. The texts hint at a great upheaval, a schism among the gods that left Morosith forever altered.
As I return the book to its place on the shelf, a sharp click echoes through the silent library. I pause, listening. The sound repeats, followed by the murmur of voices drifting down the hallway. Curiosity piqued and in the mood for some late-night eavesdropping, I quietly make my way toward the door, slipping out into the corridor. The voices grow clearer, and I recognize them: Baron and Garet.
“I don’t care how you handle it, Garet,” Baron’s voice is low and menacing. “Shadowfiends and hellhounds near the border are unacceptable. Do you understand?”
Garet’s reply is measured but firm. “Yes, Father, I understand.But we need more resources to deal with them effectively. The sightings are becoming more frequent.”
“Then get the resources,” Baron snaps. “Do whatever it takes. We cannot afford any weakness, especially now.”
There’s a pause, and I hear Garet sigh—a deep, tired sound that might’ve once tugged at me. Now it’s just another reminder of how little I care.
“I’m doing everything I can,” he says, his voice edged with frustration. “But the soldiers are stretched thin, and the people are starting to notice. We need to find a way to strengthen our defenses without causing panic.”
Baron’s response is a growl of frustration. “Just make sure it’s done. I won’t tolerate failure.”
Their footsteps fade, and I press against the wall, holding my breath until the sound disappears. Garet, under pressure and out of options—it’s almost poetic. For all his calm, collected advice about what needed to be done back when it was my life under scrutiny, now he’s the one scrambling to keep up.
Shadowfiends and hellhounds in Astermiri—just when I thought things couldn’t get stranger. My heart pounds in my chest as I move quietly down the hall. I slip into the secret passage Leigh showed me, the cool, familiar tunnel easing the tightness in my chest. I need to understand more. I need to be prepared. Because it seems like life here enjoys keeping things interesting.
***
The next day dawns with a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, as if everyone collectively decided to hold their breath. Guests have begun to arrive by the thousands, which is one way to ensure the spectacle is a success—distract everyone with an extravagant event so they don’t notice how underprepared I am.
In my room, I stand before the mirror, fighting the wave ofnausea twisting my stomach. Every nerve feels raw, stretched tight with the knowledge that tonight, everyone will be watching me. I’m a storm inside, trying to keep steady breaths even as panic claws its way to the surface. I’m still mentally running through the evening’s schedule, planning how to fake my way through it, when Leigh enters, carrying a gown that immediately steals my breath.
“Here it is,” she says, her voice gentle but full of pride as she holds the dress up for me to see. “It’s perfect for tonight. Go on, try it.”
The gown is a deep sapphire, almost black, with an iridescent shimmer that dances in the light. Its low-cut neckline accentuates my collarbones, while the plunging back reveals more skin than I’m used to. Tiny, intricate patterns are woven through the fabric, catching the light like constellations. I can’t help but stare, transfixed by how it gleams, like the dress itself is alive.
I take it from her, the fabric soft and almost weightless against my fingertips. “Low cut in the front and the back? Are you sure this isn’t meant for someone else?” I force a laugh. “I don’t think I’m prepared to accidentally flash the entire kingdom.”
Leigh chuckles, giving me a look of reassurance. “Trust me, Eva. You’ll look stunning. Now, let’s get you into it.”
Once I’m dressed, she guides me to the chair in front of the vanity, and I catch my reflection in the mirror. The sight almost makes me want to laugh—this glittering gown, this delicate creature staring back... is me? I look, dare I say it, beautiful. The dress flows around me like starlight, the delicate patterns shimmering with each movement. But beneath it all, there’s still me: dark bruises under my eyes, barely hidden by powder, revealing the sleepless nights and the guilt that clings stubbornly to me.
Leigh begins working on my hair, her fingers moving withpracticed precision as she pins my blonde curls to frame my face. Each pin is placed with care, and she occasionally steps back to assess her work, making minor adjustments, as though crafting me into someone else entirely.
“Tonight is a big night,” Leigh says, her voice soothing. “There will be a lot of festivities leading up to the main event. The king will give a speech, and then, as the eclipse reaches its peak, the ritual will begin.”
I swallow hard, trying to ignore how tight the gown feels, as if even my clothing is a reminder of how out of place I am here. “The ritual. Sounds... fun,” I manage, the nerves twisting again in my stomach.
Leigh chuckles softly. “The eclipse is a powerful time, and a centuries-old tradition.”
I take a deep breath, adjusting to the tightness of the elaborate gown. Time to do what I do best—turn a good conversation awkward. “Leigh, what do you know about how the Abyss Gates were made?” Clearly catching her off guard.
Leigh blinks, her hands momentarily still as she processes the question. “Oh, that’s… quite a topic to delve into,” she replies, a hint of hesitation in her voice.
“Someone’s been spending a lot of time in the library,” she jokes lightly before continuing.
“Not much is known about how they were created. I assume that knowledge disappeared when the gods did. For years, my grandfather had the scholars scour the library for anything useful, but there was no success.”
“Why would your grandfather want to know how the gates were made?” I ask.
“Why do you?” Leigh counters.
“Fair point,” I mutter.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, she adds, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I know you’re just trying to learn what you can.”
