Novels2Search
The Epilogue isn't the End [BL]
38. A Fate Forever Altered

38. A Fate Forever Altered

“You are the god of fate, right?”

A rather plain opening line, especially because he knows that she knows, who he is. Still, he plays along, “I am the Fateweaver,” he agrees, before shifting slightly so Cadeyrn is more visible to her, “and this is-,”

“Cadeyrn, the demon,” Maria fishes for him. Flashing Cadeyrn a smile that actually reaches her honey-gold eyes, voice softening a tad into something almost fond, “we’ve met.”

‘Ah right,’ he thinks, heart twisting into something he will not label, ‘the guardian angel, that night when Cadeyrn was late.‘ The demon never had given him a reason for his tardiness that night, he forces himself to not think about it now, nor the topic they discussed, nor the reason why any of them had to leave that night.

Cadeyrn for his part doesn’t look happy with the reminder, and simply nods back to Maria, keeping his gaze locked on Asterius’s shoulder. And Asterius can’t really blame him, the last time Cadeyrn came to an event he was publicly humiliated in front of all of Celestia, honestly, he’s shocked the demon even offered to come.

He shifts back in front of Cadeyrn, a mostly unconscious move, that he quickly hides as a natural shifting of his weight. Not that his movement does anything to actually hide the demon, Cadeyrn is several inches taller, and still clearly visible, but it works to attract Maria’s attention again.

“Well, it’s an honor to finally meet you properly,” she says, tone filled with such honest kindness that he almost believes her, but Maria has never been good at hiding her true thoughts. She wears her heart on her sleeve and it's obvious to see the tension coiling around her frame. “I hear you are the one who sent me to Mordin?”

Oh, that is a dangerous question. Obviously, the answer is yes, but it’s a bigger question than that. She’s not just asking if he sent her down, but why? And that wasn’t something he could answer.

The System flickers to life next to him, a worried emoji flickering across the screen before it types a message, [Host should be very careful here! Host cannot reveal anything about System or who Host really is!]

‘I know System,’ he sighs internally, leveling the Female Lead with a calm look, “I am the one who sent you,” he agrees easily, carefully keeping his tone light and even, “It was your fate to be sent to Mordin.”

“My fate…,” she repeats, her friendly smile pulling downward into a frown for a second before she forces it back up, though it is noticeably more tense and strained than before. “I see,” she agrees, all false pleasantries, “I’m afraid I’m not really a believer of fate myself.”

And she laughs, unaware of how that statement makes the whole house fall deathly silent. The rest of the party guests made no effort to hide their eavesdropping, the empress-to-be and the weaver of fate meeting for the first time was naturally something most of Celestia would be interested in seeing. Even if Maria was currently naïve enough to not think she was the center of attention, she’s not stupid enough to not notice the sudden silence. Her laughter slowly turns a tad bit forced and embarrassed as she glances around, taking in the horrified expressions of the other guests.

“Did I-,” she glances around again as if to make sure everyone was looking at her, “did I do something?”

There’s a sudden rush of cold air at his back, and a shiver races down his spine as Cadeyrn steps forward, crowding into the back of Asterius’s robes, chin lightly bumping the ornaments adorning his silver hair. But it is not Cadeyrn that causes his shiver, no, it is the red floating textbox hovering over Maria’s head.

[Objective trigger! The Female Lead has insulted Host player’s character! Host must retaliate and establish himself as the villain! Failure to do so-]

He shifts his gaze away, already knowing what it's going to say, ‘Termination’ just like always, as if the System was afraid to use the real world for what would happen, ‘death’.

Cadeyrn starts speaking above him, voice low and rumbling with a demonic timber that has several other guests scattering further inside, “Did you say something wrong?” Cadeyrn mocks, voice like a steel blade, made to hurt and cut, “You have just insulted the great FateWeaver of the heavens. My Master-! And you dare-!”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Cadeyrn.”

The demon snaps his mouth shut, rumbling a low displeased growl, that Asterius can feel in his own chest from how close the demon is pressed. He knows that if he wasn’t as freaked out as he is he would be appreciating the closeness, the sudden surge of overprotectiveness is enduring and pulls faintly on the crush he’s buried deep in his heart. But now is not the time to indulge in warm feelings of safety and… friendship. He has a role to play, and the Female Lead has unknowingly offered him the perfect stage from which to perform.

‘I’m sorry,’ he thinks, even as he forces his face to shift into a cold icy anger. Maria flinches back before he’s even said anything and it hurts. The distrust and wariness shining so clearly in her eyes. He almost breaks character for a moment, before he feels another growl shake his back. ‘If you don’t do this,’ he tells himself, steeling his resolve, ‘it’s not just you on the chopping block, do it for Cadeyrn if nothing else Asterius, for Cadeyrn.’

It’s a testament to how much he still loves that demon because somehow that frameshift helps, and he keeps his gaze cold and distant. “It would seem Sanctus has failed in his duty of teaching you properly,” an oversight Asterius is willing to bet that was completely intentional. “Now remind me godling,” because that’s all she really is, a newborn god, who has only had her divinity unsealed for 3 days, “who am I?”

Maria blinks, opening her mouth before closing it again, confusion painfully obvious. She glances around for help, but only finds the tense and afraid expressions of the other Celestial guests. “You are the god of fate,” she answers slowly, looking extremely uncomfortable, hands fisting into the pink silks of her elaborate dress, “and the god of stars. You are Aster-,”

“Do not presume you can speak my name.”

Maria’s jaw snaps shut, a sliver of fear shining in her eyes at his harsh tone. Asterius hates to see it there, hates that he’s the one who put it there, but this is his job, there’s more riding on this than just her feelings. He needs to push her the right way, needs for her to stumble here so she can be stronger later. She needs to see him as the villain so she will hold no regrets for the choices she makes later. It’s a twisted terrible logic that he hates even thinking, but it helps ease the chasm of guilt in his chest.

“I am the highest-ranking god in Celestia,” he declares. The other guests shift and whisper, but none refute him. Everyone knows it is the truth, Asterius is the first-born son of the late Royal Sun, and his domain is something the other gods can never fully understand. “Only the God Emperor may call my name,” and he shifts, slipping his hands back into his sleeves, to hide how badly he’s shaking, “and seeing as how you left that position open,” he lets the acquisition hang for a breath, watches the confusion in Maria’s eyes shift into disbelief, “so none may call my name.”

“You sent me to Mordin,” she reminds as if Asterius wasn’t carrying the guilt of that choice for 20 years, watching Maria grow and flourish with his own eyes to make sure. Spending sleepless nights and gray dawns watching her life like a lifeline for his own sanity, whispering promises and encouragements he would never be allowed to actually tell her. As if her name was spoken often enough in their little house that it felt like she belonged there with them, just another part of their strange and unusual little family-

[HOST.] The System reads, its text box a dark emerald green that’s almost black.

His next breath is a bit shallower than he would like, but he forces the thoughts away. Focuses back on the Female Lead who is still staring at him in disbelief and slowly building anger, “I didn’t leave it empty. You took it-,”

“Do not speak to him like that,” Cadeyrn snaps, pushing forward so he’s leaning over Asterius, his chest flush with Asterius’s back. “You know nothing of the truth-,”

[Host!]

He’s able to scramble enough of his wits back together to know that whatever Cadeyrn is about to say would be really bad for anyone to hear. So he interjects, pushing the conversation back into how evil and terrible he is.

“Because you were too weak to rule-,” a lie. A filthy, horrible lie. Maria was always ready to rule, she should be the God Emperor, she shouldn’t be forced to marry a man and give him the crown that should be hers -, “I sent you to Mordin to give you a chance.” No, he did it to save his own skin, to follow the plot of this stupid novel- he shifts his eyes to her feet, unable to look at her growing fear and rage, “It is a mistake I will not repeat again.”

The silence is heavy and thick, oppressive enough to crush and smother, sharp enough to be a tool of war. Asterius shifts his eyes back up, bracing himself for the worst-

Maria’s face is a horrible heartbreaking thing. She is a creature of kindness and love and should never hold such rage and hate, but at this moment, she holds every drop of it in the universe, centered entirely on Asterius.

Something violently shifts in his chest, twisting and knotting and fraying at the edges.

‘The string,’ he thinks desperately, fear filling the hole of grief like an overflowing cup, spilling out of his seams as the Weave of Fate blooms into being around him.

Gasps and worried shouts echo around the room, even Maria takes a half step back, eyes widening in her own fear.

Asterius wrangles back control, forcing the Weave back into the realm unseen, but not quickly enough. For he catches sight of the string he has been watching for over 20 years. A once beautiful shimmering thread knotted into flowers, now an ugly frayed teether pulled taut between them like a hangman’s rope. The question remains of who’s hanging who.