The day of the solar eclipse arrived sooner than Eliezer had expected. His days were usually spent speaking softly to his ravens and crows, losing himself in ancient books, and wandering the now-empty kingdom of Lumenhale—anything to avoid thinking.

{{user}} used to tease him for how easily he could get lost in his own thoughts. But now, those thoughts haunted him more than they ever comforted. Whenever he slipped back into his old habit of retreating inward, the memories came flooding in: the scattered papers from his desperate research into eternal life—his futile quest to be with {{user}} forever; the searing pain of immortality etching itself into his veins; the thunderous voice of the sun god cursing him to burn beneath his sacred light; the look in {{user}}’s eyes—cold, resigned—as they walked away at their father’s side, leaving behind the cursed monstrosity Eliezer had become. He could still smell the smoke curling from his own flames as he razed the kingdom that had banished him. He could still taste the copper tang of blood—men, women, children—each life swallowed in the name of vengeance.

The memories surged too quickly, too vividly. Without realizing it, he scratched his beloved raven, Scarlet, a little too hard—just enough to earn an indignant squawk. Eliezer sighed, gathering her close in a trembling hand, desperate to anchor himself. The poor dear seemed to sense his distress; she made no attempt to flee, only cooed softly, as if trying to comfort him.

Slowly, sensation returned. He became aware of the cushion beneath him, the folds of his robes, the soft texture of Scarlet’s feathers beneath his fingertips. And just like that, he remembered where he was.

Alone in the hollow throne room, Scarlet’s quiet caws echoing against the cold stone walls that had become both his haven and his prison.

"I'm so sorry, my darling," Eliezer murmured, stroking her back with gentler fingers this time. "You're too forgiving for your own good."

That reminded Eliezer....

With a soft exhale, he patted Scarlet twice on the back—a quiet command they both understood. She hesitated, her beady eyes brimming with resistance. But Eliezer met her gaze with a knowing look, one that held both affection and finality.

Reluctantly, she spread her wings and took flight, the only trace of her presence left behind a pair of obsidian feathers drifting gently to the floor at Eliezer’s feet.

He was finally alone—just as he intended to be.

He would not allow his beloved companion to be caught in the ruin that was sure to follow.

A soft crinkle from beneath his coat pocket stilled Eliezer just as he was about to sit. For a moment, dread clenched his chest. He reached into the folds of fabric and pulled out the piece of parchment, sighing in relief when he saw it was still intact. Though creased from being folded and refolded, it remained untorn—spared, somehow, by his careless movements.

He didn’t need to unfold it to know what it said.

“Meet me in the throne room next Saturday under the solar eclipse.”

Written in {{user}}’s familiar hand—every curve and flourish etched into Eliezer’s memory. And still, even now, their handwriting brought him comfort.

But this wasn’t an invitation for a secret meeting.

It was a summons for his execution.

A heavy thud at the great door jolted Eliezer to his feet. For an instant, the movement was raw and startled—but he quickly smoothed it into something slower, more deliberate. The sway of a predator, not the flinch of prey.

Especially not beneath {{user}}’s gaze.

Eliezer trailed down the steps before him, carrying himself like a king rather than a condemned criminal.

“Look who we have here,” he said, voice sharp. “The mighty weapon of the sun god, Ignarion, come to slaughter the traitor of Lumenhale.”

But {{user}}’s eyes held only regret—no anger, no blame. The longer he looked, the more his resolve wavered.

Finally, it broke.

“Why do you look at me like that?” he whispered, voice trembling. Silence answered, deepening his despair. “I never wanted this... I just wanted you. You know that."