on the edge of the fountain. “Of course, we give blood once a month in Pygmal, as is our duty. We pay taxes on our lands, like everyone else. We’re free to live on Visio, provided we do our part as subjects of the Aeternae empire.”
“Which is why we deserve better than to have our homes raided by the Darklings and our families shattered,” a Rimian woman muttered, joining the conversation. The other men scattered around the village, going about their chores as usual—now relaxed and no longer fearful of our presence.
Children watched us with big, curious eyes from the windows of their homes. I couldn’t help but throw them the occasional smile, just to reassure them that we had no intention of harming anyone. I could only imagine what it must’ve been like for them, living in such fear of the Darklings.
“Jacinda, maybe Lord Visentis here can make a case for us before the chief councilor,” Jayan said as he gave Kalon a hopeful smile. The years had been kind to this Rimian. His hair was almost white, but there were only a handful of fine lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. He had to be in his mid-fifties, at least, judging by his stature and mobility.
Kalon sighed, slowly shaking his head. “I’m afraid Zoltan Shatal was recently unmasked as a Darkling Scholar. I doubt he would be of any help regarding this issue. I will, however, bring it up with the Lord and Lady Supreme as soon as we get the chance. That, I can promise.”
Both Jayan and Jacinda—who were obviously related, given their many similar features—gasped in shock as soon as they heard about Zoltan. “That corrupt bastard,” Jacinda murmured.
“I feel you, girl,” I replied.
“Is he in prison? Will he be executed?” Jayan asked.
“We’re looking for him,” I said. “Unfortunately, he escaped a couple of nights ago. But the master commander is mounting a massive search operation as we speak. I’m certain Zoltan will be captured soon.”
“What brings you to Tromb, Lord Visentis?” Jacinda wondered aloud.
“We’re looking for someone. A friend of ours. A former Rimian turned Aeternae,” Kalon said. The mere concept seemed to disgust the Rimians. Neither Jacinda nor Jayan were pleased to hear about one of their own turning into one of Kalon’s.
“Who is it? Who would abandon his heritage for the deluded promise of eternal life?” Jayan muttered, crossing his arms.
“Trev Blayne,” I said. “He’s a good man. Honorable. The Darklings are likely looking for him. He’s part of the reason Zoltan was outed.”
Jayan and Jacinda exchanged glances, then shook their heads at us. “I’ve never heard of Trev Blayne,” the elder man said.
“Neither have I,” Jacinda added.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you find the concept of a Rimian turning into an Aeternae so unappealing?” I replied. This was a discussion I’d had before with other former Rimians back at the palace, but I wanted to hear the opinion of Rimians who lived beyond the city walls. Their ethos felt more… pure.
“Because there is no such thing as eternal life for the living,” Jayan said. “Aeternae can still be killed. Some choose to die in the Blood Arena. Others end their own existence, too. Eternity is an illusion for all of us who breathe.”
“Every single soul will get tired eventually. We’re not designed by nature to live forever,” Jacinda added. “Why do you think they keep the Aeternae elders away from the rest of the empire?”
Jayan shushed her, and Kalon scoffed, gazing somewhere to his right. Indeed, I remembered that the first- and second-generation Aeternae, the eldest of this empire, lived in retirement communities away from civilization. It had been my understanding that it was an arrangement that worked in their favor, since they were incredibly valuable to the Aeternae culture, but the way Jacinda put it made me wonder whether that was all there was to it.
“What do you mean?” I asked, and Jayan squeezed Jacinda’s wrist in a bid to silence her.
Kalon chuckled. “It’s fine, Jayan. Let her speak. Esme was bound to find out, eventually.”
“Okay, now I am definitely convinced there’s something hinky going on with you people,” I grumbled, scowling at Kalon.
“Milady, the eldest of the Aeternae aren’t just… really old and precious,” Jacinda said. “Rumor has it, and perhaps Lord Visentis here can confirm or deny, that the eldest are kept separately because many of them have lost their minds. Too much time being alive, I’m told. They’ve witnessed too