> Perspective: Eve
> Date: February 7, 2018 — 6:45 AM → 11:30 AM
> Location: Sylvaris — Countryside Outskirts (Varethiel Manor Estate · Maid Quarters → 3rd-Floor Private Archive)
The darkness had no end.
The only noise was my own heartbeat echoing in the void.
Am I asleep?
I was just pulling plushie over my chest a second ago... wasn't I?
Stars drifted past my outstretched fingers. Tiny embers of silver, sapphire, and pale pink burned in the black void.
I reached out. My hand caught nothing.
"What is a God, child?"
The voice vibrated straight through my ribs, shaking my teeth. It was neither loud nor harsh. It simply existed inside the dark.
Wh-what is a god...?
"Someone... someone people pray to," I whispered into the void. My voice died the instant it left my lips.
A low hum ran through the starlight.
"And what would you call a man who builds a ladder to heaven out of his own competence?" the voice asked, ancient and unmoving.
"When competence is the one material heaven rejects?"
A ladder out of competence...?
Heaven rejects competence?
"The one who attempts to make himself a god is rendered incompetent by the world's standards," the voice rumbled through the starlight.
"That is what creation calls a foolish man. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men."
A foolish man...
That hurts to hear...
"Why... why call him a f-fool...?" I asked, drifting past a swirl of pale-blue dust.
"He worked hard. He climbed with every breath he had to reach the light. Why call him foolish?"
"Because God chose what is foolish in this world to shame the wise," the voice answered with quiet finality.
"God chose what is weak in this world to shame the strong."
"God chose what is low, despised, and imperfect to bring to 0 the things that think they are complete—so that no mortal boasts in the presence of eternity."
To shame the wise. To shame the strong...
My forehead throbbed. The words tumbled in my head.
"Then... who is God?" I asked, scanning the empty expanse.
"Are you God?"
"God is within everything," the voice rumbled.
"Yet to all who receive him, to all who believe in his name, he gave the authority to become children of God. Born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of the unwritten law."
Children of God...
What about everyone else? What about normal lives? The Fairies, the Elves, the Beastkin, the Demons, the Dragonics—all of them worship sovereigns born with royal bloodlines who climbed mana ranks until they touched the clouds!
What about someone born with ordinary?
"You cannot be made a god," the voice answered my unvoiced thought, cutting through my spinning head.
"You must be born 1. And the birth is not yours to choose. Unless they are born again, they cannot gaze upon omnipotence.
Why then, as a goddess, do you weep for the climber on the ladder?"
Me? A goddess?!
"I'm not a goddess!" I yelled, the sound dying in the void.
"I'm Eve! I wash dishes! I barely can cook! I don't know anything about ladders or heavens!"
"Godhood is not a sentence, eternal one. It is the 2nd birth out of the 1st death."
The 2nd birth out of the 1st death?
What 1st death?!
"The Lord of Lords. The Architect of the White Crown," the voice rumbled, thinning across the nebulae.
"There is a kind of madness which is the supreme gift of heaven, and the spring of the heart blessing the man among men. No mortal makes themselves divine. The making is always a being-made."
A being-made...
"The 1 who ascends is 1st unmade," the voice whispered.
"Declared a fool. Stripped of royal bloodline and competence. Erased from the memory of the world. Creation only ever sees the 1st half: it mocks the madness, spits on the sacrifice, and calls the broken wanderer a fool."
A fool...
My chest hurts.
"And then the 2nd half arrives," the void echoed.
"And the exact same world falls on its face in the dust and calls the fool a god. The mistake was never in the becoming, child. It was always in the blindness of the eyes that watched."
What does it mean...?
"Tell me, Eve... why does the Goddess of Misfortune not know of her own existence?"
The Goddess of Mis-misfortune...?
Who is—
The stars vanished.
Space folded.
I stood in a void beyond reality. No sun. No stars.
A giant golden crescent moon hung motionless over a black lake stretching in all directions.
A figure sat on the crescent in layered black mourning robes. A sheer black veil covered her face.
A long lance forged of silver-black glass stood driven into the stone of the crescent, 2 red ribbons hanging motionless from the grip.
A boy lay across her lap.
A dark coat, pale skin, eyes shut in heavy sleep. His head rested on her thighs beneath the black veils.
Her pale fingers stroked his dark hair.
She was weeping. Clear tears dropped from behind the lace onto his cheeks.
Then she hummed.
A quiet melody vibrated through the air:
"Hush now, sleep my love... sleep till the everlasting night comes for you..."
Heat flooded my chest.
My soul is burning.
The veiled figure lifted her head.
Behind the lace, 2 spinning spirals of blue and pink locked on me. A 4-point diamond star ignited at the center of each eye.
The void snapped.
---
"Haaah—!"
I bolted upright, gasping for air.
Breathe. Breathe.
Cold morning air hit my throat.
My chest heaved. My legs were tangled in the blankets, shivering.
What was that?!
What was that dream?!
I pressed my hands against my ribs. My heart pounded furiously. My cheeks were wet.
Tears?
Why am I crying?! I wasn't sad. Someone else was grieving, and it landed directly inside my chest!
The small cloth doll sat on the pillow beside me. Black cloth hair, patched coat, blue eyes.
The Kaiser plushie.
I grabbed it with both hands and hugged it tight. I buried my face in its shoulder. It smelled of lavender laundry soap and dry cotton.
The fools are praised as gods.
The words won't leave my head.
Why did that voice talk about ladders and competence?Why did it feel directed at Kai?
...Wait.
No. Kai isn't trying to be a god. Kai is a stubborn, exhausted idiot who buys grain for poor people and tells me to stay away from him...!
I held the plushie out in front of my face.
I stared into its button eyes. My pink hair reflected in the dark plastic.
Look at you. Even as a doll, you scowl.
Why did you look so peaceful in that dream?
...Wait. Was that him on the crescent moon?!
Blood rushed to my face. My ears burned.
His head was on her lap. Right on her thighs. She stroked his hair, and she sang to him...
His head... on her lap...
I pulled the plushie to my face and rolled across the mattress, wrapping myself in the blanket. I kicked my feet, thrashing left and right, mashing my nose into the doll's forehead.
I want to hug him!
...
...
WAIT.
WHAT AM I THINKING?!
NO NO NO!
I froze stomach-down on the mattress, eyes wide.
WHAT DID I JUST SAY?! "I want to hug him"?! EVE! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!
Umm I really can't help it! He's just... Stop it! You're rolling around in bed at 6:00 in the morning wanting to cuddle him?!
Stop it!
...B-But...
My fingers gripped the doll's cloth arm.
...That night in my room... in the pouring rain... he held me.
He put his arm around my shoulders, pulled me against his coat, and let me sleep with his chin resting on my hair... I felt safe.
And now...
A dull pulse throbbed on my left ring finger.
I looked down.
The Sea of the Heart ring sat there, its pale-pink center stone warming against my skin, matching my pulse. The outer blue rim stayed cold.
It's pulsing again.
Every time my chest hurts for him, it warms up.
A sharp chime sounded from the nightstand.
The brass clock.
6:52 AM.
6:52?!
MORNING ROLL CALL IS 7:00 AM!
"Ahhh—! Head Maid Elise will skin me alive!!"
I threw the blankets off, scrambled out of bed, hit the floorboards, and jammed the Kaiser plushie under my pillow where nobody would see it.
---
The next 3 hours were pure panic.
Sweep the cedar hallway.
Dust the brass chandelier in the west parlor.
Wipe down 24 silver teacups without dropping 1.
"Eve! Why are your cheeks so red?! Did you catch a fever?!" Head Maid Elise yelled across the dining hall, tapping her brass clipboard on her hip.
"N-No, Head Maid Elise! Just scrubbing hard, ma'am!" I squeaked, rubbing the mahogany sideboard with an oil rag until the wood reflected my red face.
"Keep scrubbing! The Master arrived from the diplomatic summit late last night and is sleeping in the solar until noon! Drop 1 spoon on the 2nd floor and I forfeit your week's wages!"
"Yes, ma'am!!"
Scrub, Eve. Scrub away the shame of rolling in bed.
Wait. She just said it. Naelor is asleep until noon. The other maids are in the scullery prepping luncheon trays.
The 3rd floor is empty.
I can't wait until tonight. If Naelor wakes up at noon and reviews his accounts, I'll never get inside.
Now. I have to go now.
I dropped the rag into the bucket, smoothed my apron, and slipped through the servant door behind the dining curtains.
Stone stairs led to the 3rd floor. Cold, dark, empty.
My boots made no sound on the risers. Clattering pots and shouting kitchen boys faded below.
Breathe.
You're carrying towels. If someone stops you, you're looking for the linen press.
Nobody keeps linen on the 3rd floor, Eve. Awful excuse.
Top landing.
The heavy oak door of The Classified Archive.
Silver plaque: [HIGH ELVEN DIPLOMATIC & HISTORICAL ARCHIVES — LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE ONLY]
The lock had a 3-pin dwarven tumbler.
My left hand rose on its own.
My left index finger touched the iron keyhole. A needle of pale-blue light pricked out from under my nail. The tumblers clicked—clack, clack, thunk—and slid open without resistance.
...Huh?!
I just picked a dwarven lock with starlight?!
Since when can I do that?!
My heart raced. I pushed the door open, slipped through, and clicked it shut behind me.
Massive room. Floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves. Smell of parchment, ink, and dried lavender. Morning sun cut through high stained-glass windows.
Cabinet 2. Bottom drawer.
I hurried between the shelves, found the walnut desk, knelt, and pulled the drawer open.
Stacks of folders sealed with the red wax of the Grand Granary Exchange of Sylvaris.
Contract 401: Southern Valley Wheat Distribution...
Contract 408: Winter Relief Subsidies...
Wait.
A thick document tied in black string.
Signature: [Kaiser Everhart — Authorized Agent of the Survivor's Trust]
I read the clauses.
He didn't just sell grain.
He forced Naelor to open 4 municipal workshops in the lower slums. 10-year employment contracts for crippled adventurers, elderly weavers, and refugees.
Clause 14: "The Provincial Granary shall maintain an emergency reserve of 40,000 sacks of winter rye, released at 0 cost to families with more than 2 dependents during freeze months."
Clause 19: "In the event of civil unrest or guild sanctions, the private assets of the Survivor's Trust shall liquidate to guarantee the wages of 1,200 municipal workers for 18 months."
Generational wealth.
He didn't keep gold for himself. He squeezed Naelor's political leverage to keep poor families from starving.
My throat tightened.
You idiot.
You stubborn, reckless idiot.
You walked around with dark circles under your eyes, coughing into your sleeve, letting the city call you a cold... just so 1,000 families could eat warm meals.
And then you told me... you were hollow.
How can someone with 0 heart do this?!
Tears hit the parchment. I wiped my sleeve across my eyes and pressed the contract to my apron.
I knew it. I wasn't wrong about you.
I'm going to confront you with this, Kai. I'm going to shove this contract in your face and make you tell me again that you feel nothing.
I moved to close the drawer.
My knuckle hit a wooden partition in the back.
A false bottom?
I pressed the wood.
A latch clicked. A shallow tray popped up 1 inch.
Inside lay a scorched dossier bound in black leather, sealed with brittle black wax.
No guild mark. No provincial seal.
Two words in silver ink: [THE ECLIPSE — OCTOBER 22, 2013]
The Eclipse?
October 2013... 5 years ago. When the War of Races ended.
I broke the black wax.
Yellowed pages, scorched edges. Naelor's jagged, shaking handwriting:
> Classification: Sovereign Level — Absolute Black.
> Witness Account: Envoy Naelor Varethiel.
> Location: Royal Spire of Pandemonium (The Demon Capital).
> Date: October 22, 2013.
>
> At 12:00 high noon, the sun vanished behind an obsidian disc ringed with white starlight. Daylight had ended.
>
> The girl entered through the southern gates. She wore black. She was alone.
>
> In 40 minutes, 1,328,000 demon soldiers and 12 Arch-Mages were erased from existence. Erased. The dark fire of the nether-realms ceased to exist.
>
> She sang softly while erasing them.
>
> It was the absolute wrath of Celestara. Creation bent beneath her feet because the Specter had fallen at Asura Academy.
>
> To preserve the sanity of mortal societies, the High Council and the divine authorities of all 6 races enacted the Great Severance: all public records of the Eclipse were burned, and collective memory was suppressed by decree of the Synod.
>
> If she ever returns... do not fight. Do not run. Pray that her gaze passes over you in the dark.
My breath stopped.
1,328,000 dead... in 40 minutes?!
Not even an hour... 40 minutes?!
My stomach churned. Nausea hit my throat. The number pressed against my skull until my vision swam.
The sun vanished at noon?
Who is Celestara?! Why did she destroy the continent?!
My hands trembled. The parchment rustled against my apron.
This can't be real. It's a madman's diary—
CREEEAAAK.
The archive door swung open.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
NO.
Footsteps on the parquet floor. The gold-capped cane clicked on the wood:
Tap. Step. Tap. Step.
Elder Master Naelor.
He's awake!
Panic seized me. I jammed the dossier into my apron pocket, shut the drawer, and scrambled on my knees behind a mahogany bookshelf. I yanked my lace hood over my pink hair.
Don't breathe, Eve. Don't make a sound.
I flattened my back against the cedar wood.
The footsteps stopped at the desk.
A pause.
A sharp intake of breath.
"The drawer latch is open," Naelor muttered in ancient Elven. "The scent... fresh."
Oh god.
Don't look over here.
A high hum buzzed in the air.
Detection magic.
The floorboards creaked.
A tall shadow rounded the shelf.
A pale hand shot forward.
"GAAH—!"
A scream ripped from my throat. Fingers locked into my hood and hair, pulling my head back. My knees hit the floorboards.
Naelor Varethiel stood over me in midnight-blue robes, silver hair falling over his shoulders, golden eyes sharp with fury.
He didn't look at my face. He held me down by my hair.
"Insolent gutter rat," Naelor hissed.
"You crawl into the private archives of the High Council? A housemaid daring to evade 300 years of detection arts?!"
"P-Please—!" I sobbed, tears blurring my vision as I grabbed his wrist. "Please, Elder Master Naelor, I'm s-sorry! Please let go—!"
"Silence, thief!" Naelor tightened his grip until my neck strained back.
"You will rot in the deepest cellar beneath the granary before noon! The inquisitors will peel every skin from your fingers until you name the organization that hired you!"
"I didn't steal anything! I'm just a maid!"
"Turn around and show me your face!"
Naelor ripped my maid cap back.
My pink hair spilled across the floorboards.
Tears tracked down my cheeks. My eyes locked on his golden gaze—my left iris blazing with a binary spiral of blue and pink, a sharp 4-point diamond star burning at the center suddenly.
And on my left hand gripping his sleeve, The Sea of the Heart ring erupted in starlight.
The room went dead silent.
Naelor stopped breathing.
His pupils contracted to needlepoints.
Color vanished from his skin, turning grey. His jaw dropped. His teeth chattered together.
He let go of my hair, jerking his hand back from the heat.
"AHH..."
A strangled sound left his throat.
"AHH... AHHHHHH..."
He staggered back 3 steps. His cane dropped, clattering across the floor.
His knees gave out.
THUD.
The High Elven statesman hit both knees on the hardwood floor, falling forward onto his hands.
Cold sweat drenched his collar. His shoulders shook in violent spasms, his forehead pressed against the floorboards.
"P-P-Please..." Naelor gasped, his voice breaking into a shriek.
"Please... Sovereign! Show mercy! I didn't know! I swear by the stars, I didn't know it was you!!"
I pushed myself backward until my spine hit the bookshelf, staring at him.
What is happening...?!
"Elder Master Naelor...?!"
"Lady Elfina! Goddess Celestara!" Naelor sobbed, slamming his forehead against the floorboards until the wood groaned.
"I kept my oath! I kept my oath on my soul! I never spoke your name to the High Council! I burned the reports! I buried Pandemonium under the lies just as you decreed!!"
Lady Lunaris?
Pandemonium?
"Do not cast me into the dark!" he screamed, clawing the wood, tears and mucus running down his face.
"I was only an envoy! I was there to negotiate grain tariffs! I never sided with the demons! I swear by the World Tree, I never touched the boy! I never harmed him!!"
Who is he talking about?
He thinks I'm the girl who slaughtered the Demon Continent?!
"Elder Master, STOP!" I shouted, waving my hands in front of my apron.
"Look at me! Look at my clothes! I'm not Elfina! I'm Eve! I'm your maid Eve from the countryside!"
"Do not test me, Goddess... do not toy with an old fool's life..." Naelor wept, his nails scraping the oak.
"Tell me you have not come as the Goddess of Misfortune... tell me you have not returned to finish the harvest of that day!!"
"The Goddess of Misfortune?!" My voice cracked, tears running down my chin.
"Misfortune?! What are you talking about?! I'm an apprentice maid! How could I bring misfortune?!"
"You're The Hanged Goddess!!" Naelor sobbed, his chest convulsing.
"Before that night, you were Celestara—the goddess of divine fortune, radiant blessing, and sacred order! But after the hanging... after your soul died and returned from the void... the hanging inverted your divinity! You became the Goddess of Misfortune! The avatar of sorrow, mourning, and unmitigated calamity!!"
The words slammed into my chest.
The Hanged Goddess.
A goddess of fortune who became misfortune after death.
"A hanging...?! Inverting d-divinity?!" My throat seized up. My thoughts tumbled in terror.
"Elder Master Naelor, look at my hands! Listen to my voice! I'm trembling! I don't have cosmic power! I'm just Eve!"
"Then swear it!" he wheezed, his teeth knocking together as he lifted his bloodshot eyes an inch from the floor.
"Swear upon the stars that you're not the Goddess of Misfortune! Swear that you're not here to bring calamity upon this city!"
"I swear!! I swear on my life, I don't want to hurt anyone! I don't even know what The Hanged Goddess is!"
Naelor went rigid.
His breath hitched. Slowly, he lifted his head from the floorboards.
He looked at my wet cheeks.
He looked at my red, calloused hands.
He looked at the cotton maid apron tied in a lopsided knot at my waist.
My eyes slowly returned to normal as the trauma of the hanging faded from my memory.
Only a frightened girl crying on the floor of his archive.
"You... you truly..." Naelor whispered, his jaw clicking. "You do not remember...?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I sniffled, dragging the corner of my apron across my nose.
"I just... I wanted to know what happened to Kaiser."
Naelor sank back against the desk, his legs limp. Sweat soaked his midnight robes. Silver hair clung to his face.
My maid training kicked in.
I stood up on unsteady legs, walked to the side table, and poured cold spring water from the crystal carafe into a silver goblet. I knelt beside him and held it out.
"Here," I whispered. "Drink. Your heart is racing."
Naelor stared at the goblet. His shaking hands took it, sloshing water over his fingers before gulping it down in ragged swallows.
The cold water steadied him.
He exhaled a long breath, leaning his head back against the wood.
"40 minutes," he whispered. "40 minutes was all it took."
I sat on a wooden archive stool across from him, resting my hands on my knees.
"What happened in Pandemonium...?" I asked.
"I was on diplomatic assignment," Naelor stared blankly at the stained glass above us, lost in 2013.
"The War of Races had just ended. I went to negotiate grain concessions and border tariffs with Demon Lord Malphas. But Malphas was not in the capital. He traveled north. Only 2 of his royal heirs remained in the palace to command the garrison."
He swallowed hard.
"At 12:00 high noon, a pitch-black veil dropped over the entire capital, locking 1,500 square kilometers in an absolute void. No messages could leave. No portals opened. The sky turned to blood..."
My lungs felt like they were being crushed by an invisible weight.
"She entered through the southern gates," Naelor whispered.
"A girl in mourning black. She carried no weapon. She spoke no incantations. She walked... humming a lullaby. Everywhere her voice reached, hearts stopped beating. Demon soldiers dropped in their sleep, their blood freezing, their souls torn from their chests in burning silver threads."
The lullaby from my dream.
"1,328,000 souls," Naelor whispered, a tear running down his cheek.
"Erased from existence in 40 minutes to fuel a cosmic rebirth... Calling her the Goddess of Evernight is an insult... darkness itself stayed away from the hem of her gown... It was Elfina Lunaris. I did not know it then. Only after years of investigation did I piece together who she was."
He looked at his hands.
"She spared me because my blood carried 0 demonic mana. She stood on the royal capital, looked through her veil... and walked past. Everyone else in that capital vanished... I owe my life to that mercy. I vowed never to seek her out... but I found records of similar massacres among the other races."
The room turned cold. I pulled my arms against my chest.
Why would she do that...?!
"If that happened..." I whispered, my voice wavering. "Why isn't it in the history books? Why does nobody in the city know?"
"Because it was censored," Naelor replied.
"If everyone knew 1 girl erased an imperial capital in 40 minutes, civilization would collapse into panic. The Synod, the High Council, and the sovereign deities of all 6 races met in secret. They enacted the Great Severance. They burned every report. They cast memory manipulation magic across the continents, altering minds to believe the slaughter was due to sudden mana plague. Only the gods and a few eyewitnesses remember. And those who remember swore soul-oaths never to speak her name."
He turned his golden eyes on me.
"Why do you care, eve? If you are not Lady Elfina... why do you look like her... and dig through classified files?"
I pulled the contracts from my apron and laid them on my lap.
"Because Kai is involved," I said, looking straight at him. "And because I found these."
"What are those?" Naelor's brow furrowed.
"The emergency grain accords," I said. "40,000 sacks of winter rye. 350 jobs for disabled veterans. You trade with Kaiser Everhart behind the High Council's back."
Naelor's jaw locked.
"Are you threatening me, maid? Are you attempting to gather blackmail material?"
"NO!" I shook my head, leaning forward.
"It's not b-blackmail. I swear it isn't. If the Council finds out, you lose your seat, and you lose the agricultural tools and grain reserves Kai provides for your people. I don't want that... I want an agreement."
"An agreement?" Naelor squinted at me.
"I will never speak a word about your trade deals with Kai," I said, hand over my chest.
"Your secret stays safe. Your identity stays hidden. In exchange... tell me what you saw that day. Not the censored summary in this folder. The truth."
I looked down at my apron, my voice quiet.
"B-But... if it hurts too much... if it is too hard to remember... I won't force you. I won't tell anyone about the grain either way. I just... I need to know who she was to him..."
Naelor stared at me.
The tension left his shoulders. The cold calculation in his eyes gave way to quiet disbelief. He finally saw it.
He saw that I wasn't Elfina playing games with his life. I was just a girl holding a secret and asking for the truth.
Naelor pulled himself up into the armchair by the desk, resting his hands on his knees.
"You are a strange person," he murmured.
"Very well, child. I will tell you what I saw. I will tell you what happened... from the moment Goddess Elfina seized Princess Christiana by the throat, ripped open reality, and dragged her to the edge of the observable universe."
My pulse hammered in my throat.
I sat on the wooden stool, clasping my hands in my lap.
Morning starlight hit the stained glass, gleaming against the silver band on my finger.
And in the quiet archive, 1 question echoed in my mind:
Who was the Goddess of Misfortune?