Chapter Text
There’d been no end of ruckus in the Spire since the cluster of stars that made up the Manae Constellation vanished overnight. It’d been all of two days, but already the diviners were calling for the end of times, as they were wont to do when something odd happened that might carry even a whiff of godpower behind it, which meant it was truly hard to gauge the severity of such an event. The astronomers, for example, stuck to hard logic for the inconceivability, as stars were so far away, all they could ever see was the ghostlight. Perhaps those stars had already been dead, for eons, only to fade in their lifetime. No need for gods to fuck things up if they were already fucked long before, right?
Of course, that left the majority of them who saw the value of such logic, as well as such panic, trying to reconcile the two extremes all while understanding that stars, quite simply, didn’t just do that. Truly dying stars had a calculable dimming rate known from generations of people looking up to the skies to chart them. They weren’t just bright one night and gone the next; no amount of logic could justify that kind of peculiarity and no amount of fear would solve the issue at hand. That meant reason had to fall in the uncomfortable in-between of what was willful ignorance and what was overt doomsdaying. Not an easy place to dwell if the point was to stay sane.
As one who dismissed the gods on the daily outside of subjects to study, Grace looked upon the empty space where the Manae cluster had been and felt the burn of discovery. Problems were meant to be solved, gods or not, and since the gods tended to break more than they fixed, this was merely par for the course. What bothered him was not being able to touch and understand. What were the overreaching ramifications of losing five stars? They were so far from where the Spire reached that if there were to be consequences, none had shaken Astrapor as of yet, and none of their representatives from the neighboring nations had sounded any alarms. Most of the populace probably had no idea they were even gone in the first place, Grace knew. And even if they did, why panic over the anomaly when nothing more immediate had happened?
Leave it to a horde of mages to catch the uncatchable and worry it to death in a matter of days. Even from his observatory, he could hear the diviners two floors down raving about godpowers falling and the world turning to dust. Annoying, that, even if it was… incrementally plausible. If five stars could vanish, would they be next? Or was it just a fluke of fate, a cautionary tale?
The fact he couldn’t answer that burned in his brain like a bonfire. When one was a mage who drew power from the planetary bodies and the power of their orbit and pull, he felt the loss of the Manae cluster like an itch in the middle of his back, persistent and unreachable. If all the stars died, so would the magic of their world. Had something drained the magic from the missing stars? Where could all that power even go?
Their home planet was merely a pinpoint of light in the vastness of space. The Manae Constellation was no different in that regard. Perhaps, whatever had killed them had looked across the vast sea of stars and recognized they were watching back? Were they too just a star in the far off distance? Were they next on the menu?
It was the folly of humankind to think themselves so important as that, but it was a valid concern all the same. Of course, if something was powerful enough to destroy stars and planets, what could they really do against it? Had anything lived in the Manae cluster? Had they tried to fight back?
“Grace stare long at same spot,” a voice called up to him. He blinked, realizing he had indeed stopped panning his handscope for other stars that may be missing, and lowered the looking glass to glance down from where he floated. He’d gotten farther up than he’d thought, so lost in thought, and now he wasn’t even doing his job. With a deep sigh, he let his feet return to the ground.
“Sorry, Rock,” he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. It was too late in the night to be called morning, and given the combined lack of sleep in this room currently, the blond strands were doomed to be forever tussled out of shape. “Definitely still gone.”
Rocky gave an impatient grunt, one of his five feet tapping. “But are others gone, question?”
Eridians, by their very nature, were proof that godpowers were unpredictable but still capable of effecting change in their world. A wayward touch of a god’s hand and a nation of rocks came to life, made their own culture, procreated. Centuries after, the miracle had become mundane, and now Grace spent his days being chided by living rock creatures with opinions as strong as their grip on their innate magic. They were more than welcome in the Spire by all claves of mages and guildsmen that resided within if they dared to leave the comfortable heat of their desert birthplace. It couldn't be easy to go from constant sun and heat to a place with four seasons.
Rocky, for his part, was a collection of brown stones with carved in green runes that caught light at the right angles. While a bit squat for his age, he made up for it with a personality that could fill the whole observatory. How many times had they argued over various theories of magic and space in this very room? Even without eyes, Grace could feel his best friend’s judging look, could feel the faint pulse of power that allowed Rocky to see tickle in his feet, his chest, his heart. He smiled, setting down the looking glass on his desk.
“Hard to tell. I’m sure the updated starcharts will be presented soon at the Assembly,” Grace told him as a soft apology for being too busy-minded to focus on other dark spots in the night sky. “Hopefully Manae was the only cluster affected.”
What a word that was: affected, like the stars had suddenly caught an irreversible illness and blipped out of existence. Grace sighed at himself, pinched the bride of his nose against the ache behind his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone a day without sleep, nor would it be the last, of that he was certain. He knew the stars the way he knew his heartbeat, knew where each freckle on his skin was like a mirror to the heavens above, but still his curiosity burned deep inside, painful, hot, itchy. How was it he could look upon the stars countless times and not lose his awe? How could the vast ocean of lights be so known, yet still so mysterious to him?
A gentle pat on his elbow broke that thread of thoughts, and when he glanced up, the bluish stones that made up Adrian gently held out his glasses, long forgotten somewhere else. He took them with a soft breath of thanks. Twice the size of Rocky, their mate, they were quiet, observant, a most steady presence. A creature as tall as Grace really shouldn’t be able to fade into the background so easily, but that was Adrian’s speciality, as was the depths of their consideration and patience for his and Rocky’s over enthusiasm for discovering and understanding new things.
“Grace needs sleep,” Adrian said calmly, a gentle reprimand, or perhaps it was a command. Grace huffed and tucked his glasses on, which made Adrian trill softly and pat at him again. “Rocky too. Adrian watch.”
“I’d argue, but I think I’m going crosseyed,” Grace admitted in quick defeat, which had to mean he really was exhausted, or at least still smart enough not to argue with a sentient rock that could toss him across the room if they so wished. He gave one of Adrian’s warm shoulders a little pat, then turned to Rocky, who obediently moved towards them. “You too, Rock?”
“Rocky have no eyes. Grace question dumb,” Rocky snipped back on principle, but he also wasn’t arguing with his mate. A wise decision, that. It was always the quiet ones that were the scariest when provoked. Not that Grace had ever really seen Adrian lose their temper with Rocky. Their love was far too understanding and respectful for that. But Grace had seen Adrian read a group of mages to filth because of stupid mistakes in their equations Adrian had needed for a project. Seeing grown men and women run out of a room like scolded children had been a gift, if a terrifying one.
Adrian huffed and ushered them out. “No argue. Sleep now,” they said, though their voice was sweet as Rocky sidled up close. Grace hid a smile as the pair nuzzled and sang to each other, a faint pang in his heart he pushed away. His observatory opened back to his main rooms, which featured a rather plush settee that had been his companion on sleepless nights more than his bed ever had. He made a line for it, plopped down with a low, pained noise, and set his glasses on a small stand by the arm. Cushions were already scattered around the floor from where Rocky’s various projects over the day had led him, and with a lulling melody humming through their carapace, Adrian gathered them, set them into a neat cluster before easing themselves down. Rocky wasted no time climbing onto his usual spot where Adrian could hold him, and purred once he’d settled.
“Sleep. Adrian watch,” Adrian soothed them, much like a human mother would pat at a child’s back in comfort. Grace pulled his blanket over himself, let his body sink fully into the couch. Adrian sang long after he closed his eyes, a song that somehow stayed with him as the darkness dragged him into dreams, but when he opened them again, the song had become something of a rumble, low and displeased. It took his mind a moment to realize Adrian was growling, a minute more to parse through the notes of music that denoted Adrian’s native tongue.
“It’s okay, Adrian,” he murmured once he realized there was someone at the door, another Eridian by the sounds it was making. His mind was quite the soup when he forced himself to sit up, to get his glasses back on. Amidst the chorus of scared respectful, respectful he could hear, he slowly found his feet.
“What is it?” he asked, setting a hand on Adrian that at least got them to stop growling and resuming gently humming to keep Rocky asleep. The Eridian at the door - a grayish stone one wearing architect colors he found he recognized as Pearl - chittered in their language to him, bowing a bit in deference to Adrian. The Grandmaster summons Grace, respectful. Immediate come, respectful, respectful.
“Thank you, Pearl,” he said, which was all the poor Eridian needed as a cue to bolt away. He patted Adrian again, hoping it was as soothing to them as it was to him when they did it, another ache forming in his chest at the sweet protectiveness his friend never failed to give him. “I’ll be right back. Stratt probably just wants to hear some theories before the Assembly.”
“She could wait,” Adrian said, unhappily tilting into the touch. “Grace no stay long. Need sleep.”
“I’ll tell her you said so,” Grace assured. Eva was a terrifying, ruthless kind of woman, but even she understood tact when it came to Adrian, Grandmaster or not. He left a little kiss to Adrian’s top before ducking into the next room for some proper robes to change into. Maybe Eva had seen him at his worst and most frazzled, he still didn’t want to just show up looking ready for bed. She was a friend, but still the head of his order and all the others to boot. If Grace was going to get tossed out for anything, it wouldn’t be because he appeared in her office in nothing but a long, thin cotton tunic and little else.
He stumbled on his way out into the corridor, still pulling on his boots. The door shut and locked behind him at a thought and for a moment he caught his breath, just listening to the system of locks engage. Below it was Adrian’s sweet humming to Rocky and he felt the ache again, pushed it aside. Loneliness had no place where love was so kind, he thought. No point being selfish when the love was already there. It was an oily, slick feeling that cooled in his gut, and he shoved that away too, forced his head high. He loved them, but they were not his to have. Simple as that. To be greedy was to lose them, and he’d rather heartache than silence.
After all, at least with them at his side, he wasn’t ever truly alone. And that was just not something he was willing to jeopardize.
Eva was standing where he knew she would be, hands behind her back, staring up at the bruised purple and pink skies of pre-dawn on her balcony. The air was already warming up, the prelude to another fine summer's day, and as the falling moon caught the sliver of the sun’s gaze, it glowed the same orange pink of new sky. So odd to know life moved on even when something so enormous had happened to it. And it would continue to, he supposed, even when humanity was no longer there to make note of it.
Despite the twisting nerves being in her presence always dredged up, Eva’s main meeting room was one of his favorite places in the entire Spire. It was like walking into a star map, with all the constellations splayed over the floor, ceiling, and walls, ever moving as the real sky did, ever shifting in the unstoppable flow of time. A model of their sun and planets floated in the free space above their heads, rotating slowly, smoothly, a credit to whatever Eridian had made it to do so. Unable to help himself, Grace glanced where he knew the Manae cluster should be, knowing it’d be gone even before he registered the blank, black wall. It made his stomach drop regardless, this proof that there really was something wrong despite the hours he himself had spent staring down his scope looking for the same dark emptiness.
Dressed in a slate gray robe trimmed dark blue that shimmered like a prism depending on how she shifted herself, Eva looked exhausted. She was fierce, severe at times, with humanity’s future heavy on her shoulders, but in this moment she looked as human as the rest of them, her eyes caught on the blank spot above them. Grace silently came to stand beside her, already fidgeting the sleeves of his far less lovely teal and brown robes, with embroidered constellations along the hems. They were the standard for all star mages of his station and he’d worn them for years, but in her presence, he felt like a first year page all over again.
“You asked for me, Grandmaster?”
“Stars are disappearing, Master Grace,” she tsked, though offered him a small smile anyway. “I do believe we are beyond polite titles right now.”
“Fair enough.” He stepped up closer, but not all the way to the railing. Being so high up that the city below was more a blotchy mess of colors and shapes, he got dizzy just imagining the fall. He swallowed thickly before anything could crawl up his throat that shouldn’t. He refused to puke all over the master of the entire cloister of mages registered to practice in Astrapor. No small feat, not even for a woman he was convinced could rule the world in her sleep. “Have more than just the Manae cluster disappeared?”
“No, thankfully,” Eva breathed out, true relief. Seeing him edging behind her uncomfortably, she gave him a funny look before gesturing for him to follow her. Her shining robes caught the glow of the dawn, shimmering even as they stepped back into the darkness of the meeting room and all its stars. “Something odd has come to light, something I will need your help with.”
Cryptic. Grace gave a little, anxious laugh as they stood together beneath the spinning planets. “The last time you said that, you wanted me behind enemy lines,” he pointed out, which was a bit of an over exaggeration, but it certainly hadn’t felt like it at the time. The wild lands outside of their civilized nation did not look too kindly on their government of magic, though a few were better about it than others. Hard to invade when your neighbor has impenetrable barriers and the one she’d wanted him in refused to let mages in at all. He shook his head. “And when I said no, you shoved me through a portal.”
“And now, because of you, we have good standing with Ushra,” Eva told him like she was praising him for doing a neat trick. Grace sometimes had to marvel at how much faith she had in him, and where the heck it came from. Surely his life would be much less crazy if she didn’t. He wondered if that was a good thing or not. “And it’s Ushra that has reached out to us this time.”
“What?” Grace gaped openly. As far as negotiations went, he hadn’t done much to help. They’d been in the middle of a hostile takeover of their own government, and the rebellion led by the Consolidation of Iron had found him useful enough not to kill him. He grimaced, thinking of the terrifying woman who had overthrown the heads of Ushra like it was a hitlist all while leading her people to a new age. Knowing she was in contact with Eva only made her scarier. “Commander Ava?”
“One of her operatives went missing for six days,” she said, far too calm, her dark eyes sparking with a hint of her magic as she watched him closely for his reaction. His skin immediately prickled with awareness. “When he came back, he was half-blind, down an arm, and speaking of voices in his head.”
“...and what does that have to do with us?” Grace asked, knowing he was missing something by the way her lips pinched. “Does he require advanced healing?”
“Yes, but that is not the reason she sent me word,” Eva explained far too patiently. It only further deepened his dread that she was leading him up to something, something he would once more have no choice in. “He was exploring a natural cave shaft for mineral ore. They found him within hours of the Manae cluster disappearing.”
Her pointed look was like her handing him a puzzle piece. Intrigued, he turned to her fully. “You think it's connected.”
“I think it’s all we’ve got out of a lot more nothing,” she said bluntly, followed by a long, exhausted sigh. For a moment, she went quiet, just watching her model solar system spin. Once it’d made a full rotation, she closed her eyes as if in pain. “He speaks of an eye and other terrifying things Commander Ava cannot decipher, but he’s still got his sanity.”
Now that was interesting. Grace licked his lips, an excited wiggle in his heart. “You think he saw a godpower, and whatever he witnessed caused the stars to go out,” he breathed, amazed at the very idea of it. The gods were nothing but pricks, but an actual godpower event was a once in a lifetime opportunity. “You want me to study him.”
“I want you to study him,” Eva agreed, looking back at him with something of a smile. “If he really did see a godpower, then he’ll be the first witness humanity’s had since the Eridians formed.”
“But how do we get him here? The Spire is closed to nonmagical people and Ushra doesn’t just let go of their people unless they’re Exiled,” Grace wondered, mostly to himself. Having been in Ushra for months and watching the new government begin, it would have taken a lot for Commander Ava to give up one of her own. Life was not simple in Ushra and every person counted for something. Had she asked Eva outright to take her operative to safety, or had Eva had to convince her?
He paled. “He’s… he’s not going to be sent to us dead, is he?” it was how the usual specimens came in and his stomach tightened into a knot.
“No, he’s coming to us alive.” Eva’s expression did something strange then, something far too carefully stoic even as compassion filled her eyes. She looked at him for a long, quiet moment, then spoke softly. “He’s marrying in so we can better protect him and offer him immediate status as a citizen of Astrapor.”
Grace did his best not to laugh. It had been done before, true enough, but who among them would take in a stranger touched by a godpower? “Marrying - you mean, you’re giving him to one of the mages as a spouse?” He shook his head in wonder. “You terrify me.”
“Thank you,” Eva said, pleased, though her expression was still in shadow. Grace felt an itch at the back of his neck and quickly rubbed it away.
“I mean, it’s crazy, but it’d work,” Grace continued, not sure what more she was waiting for. “Will he be willing to marry in?”
“It’s already arranged,” Eva told him with her usual competence. “The license just needs to be signed on our end, then he will be brought over the border as soon as we can get the contract there.”
Utter madness. “Will i need permission from the mage to study on him? You must have picked someone who would, right?”
She sighed at him, and he realized he was steps behind her yet again. “Master Grace,” she said, simple, calm. “You are the one I chose. He will be your subject, so he will be your spouse. No need for permissions when you can just do it yourself.”
He did laugh that time, a bit too loud and high pitched. “You… you can’t be serious,” he said, stepping away from her in growing horror. “You want me to marry the guy?”
“I want you to study him closely, observe every little behavior you can. You need permanent access to him, so yes,” she told him with far too much patience, “I want you to marry the guy.”
He gaped, stammered, tripped over himself as he started to pace. She let him, far too used to him by now, and crossed her arms. It made the fabric glitter with manufactured starlight. “I-I mean, this is crazy, even for you. Me? What makes you think I’m the marriage type?”
“You don’t need to be the marriage type. You’re already married to him,” Eva huffed, stopping him dead in his tracks. “I need you to be your brilliant self and figure out what is happening. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out. You're always telling me about how much you wanted to study a godpower. Here is your chance.”
She turned away at that, moved off to where her desk was nearly invisible in the dark room. He followed, utterly baffled in her wake. “What do you mean I’m already - he can’t - I mean, he agreed to this?” That was nearly as preposterous as the idea in the first place.
“He looked into the eye of a god and survived,” Eva said around the rustle of parchment. A candle lit itself as she grabbed a stick of wax and began to heat it. In the shadow and bright, sudden fire, it looked made of blood. Fitting, he supposed, considering he was all but signing his life away. “Seal.”
“Do I get a say?” Grace felt his temper flare. “I don’t want to be married!”
“You are. It’s already done,” she said, ever patient with his fumbling, and he knew, in an instant of cold dread, she’d already set him on the board, just one of many pieces to move at her will. He wanted to hate her, wanted to run and scream. She’d stop him if he tried, but it didn’t quell the urge. “We need him and he needs you. It doesn’t have to be permanent. It doesn’t have to be anything more than this.”
“And if I refuse?” Grace bit out, because it was all he had left to stand on.
She slowly moved the wax away from the flame, looked at him with that unfailing confidence, patience, and iron will. “It’s already done," she said again, softer, and held her hand to him. “I need you. We all do. There’s no running from this. You can try if you’d like, but we both know you won't make it to the door. Seal.”
A bitter hurt filled him, as did anger, as did fear. A part of him was already running despite the threat. The other part was fighting, kicking, screaming, biting for his life. Somewhere in between, in a static, in a fog, he pulled off his signet ring and handed it to her, teeth clenched, muscles tight. Perhaps he was already bewitched; perhaps he’d finally learned there was no saying no to Eva when it came to a greater cause, and what cause could be bigger than a godpower touching earth? In a haze of dread, anger, and fear, he watched the bloody wax fall to the parchment, watched her press the ring into it, sealing his fate.
“Congratulations,” she said, pulling off the ring with an easy pull. The imprint it left in the solidified wax felt far too permanent, far too binding. When she set the ring in his palm, it seared into his soul like a brand. “The sooner you study him, the sooner it’ll be over. It doesn’t have to be forever, Master Grace.”
“Not forever,” he echoed, taking strength from that allowance, the only thing she was giving him freely. He slid his ring on, felt a spark as it touched his skin, his temper alive in his veins, brightly burning. But long enough to feel like it. “Anything more you've made me do without my knowledge?”
She gave him a sharp look, but ultimately took the reprimand with a bare flicker in her eyes, as she always would. “His name is Simon,” she said, which didn’t answer the question but left him speechless all the same. “Now get some rest, Master Grace. You’ll be rather busy in the coming weeks, I suspect. Just remember that all of Astraphor is counting on you. On the both of you.”
Grace stared at her for a long time, regretting every second he’d ever given to the pursuit of magic, of stars, of his own heart. Maybe if he wasn’t what she saw in him, he wouldn’t be facing this. There had to be a better man for this job, right?
“Simon,” he breathed out, hating how human it was, how nice to say. He hated that it had to be such a human name, a human subject of study, that Simon was alive and apparently willing to go along with this madness like reason didn’t count for anything. Given what he’d just been forced to do, maybe it really didn’t count.
“I look forward to your progress,” Eva said, brow furrowed as though it only just now occurred to her that Grace would be upset by all this, even though he knew she’d already thought it through a hundred times over. What he felt about it didn’t matter. It was bigger than him, bigger than them all, and as a human he had a duty to comply.
At least she didn’t expect him to comply quietly, because he wouldn’t. He’d do his job and he’d do it well, and once it was over he’d send Simon right back home. The next time Eva wanted to move him like a pawn, he resolved, he’d run first… and send Adrian in his place to tell her just where she could stick her ideals at the cost of Grace’s agency.
Well, that was assuming Adrian and Rocky didn’t try to murder everyone involved in this mad plot in the first place. Considering the rage in his heart as he marched away without another word, he would probably even let them. His life, at least, would stop being so mad. His life, at least, would be his own again.