I always seem to update this on the worst possible days. Merry Christmas, though.

Chapter Fifteen: Night of Calamity—Year Zero

When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end,

The goddess descends from the sky.

Wings of light and dark spread afar.

She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.

—From the prologue of the epic poem, Loveless

By an author obscured by the passage of time

Ienzo's bedroom in his family's castle; two years prior…

The pillow struck his sister clear in the face, earning a startled squeak as she dropped her reprint of the ancient book and fell flat on her back on her brother's bed.

It took some moments for the silver-haired teenager to reorient herself, but when she propped herself up by her elbows and glared at the pillow-wielding seven-year-old, she answered the offense with a dry "If your science-addled mind doesn't care for epic poetry, you had only to say the word."

The pajama-clad pillow-fiend replied, "This story disagrees with me."

A graceless visage of incredulity sprawled over fifteen-year-old Evelyn's pretty face. "How? I've only read four lines of the prologue!"

"And, already, it doesn't make sense," Ienzo critiqued. "If the goddess brings us bliss, why are half of her wings dark? Wouldn't darkness cause destruction? Is she unleashing that destruction on us or our enemies? I shouldn't like to be at bliss knowing magical dark-ladies are committing genocide in my name. And while we're on the subject, did it ever say whose side the goddess is on? Does she side with us or the beasts? Are we the beasts?"

Evelyn sighed and answered, barely suppressing the urge to smack her kid-brother over the skull with the book, "I guess that depends on the species of whoever wrote the book. Maybe if you would listen, you'd find some answers."

"So there's still a good chance this goddess will destroy us and deliver our enemies to their Promised Land. Why are we reading beast propaganda?"

"How about you shut your precocious mouth and try to enjoy this literary masterpiece?"

"But—!"

Evelyn picked up the pillow with her foot and smushed it against Ienzo's face, and with the fusspot silenced and flailing under the cushion's pressure, she resumed her reading at a more leisurely pace. " 'Surpassing all visions of terror our forefathers fathomed, the beasts of the apocalypse descended on the realm of—"

A spastic thrust of his arms dislodged the pillow from his sister's foot and granted Ienzo access to oxygen again. "Are you trying to kill me now?!"

She smirked. "No. Just culture you. You can't go all your life without absorbing a bit of culture."

"Yes I can."

She sat upright and poked his forehead, "No, you can't." He flinched from the infraction and rubbed a hand over the prodded area, but maintained his stubborn eye-contact with his sister. She continued, "Ienzo, without culture, we wouldn't be the dominant species. It's where we derive our values, our beliefs, our philosophies—it's even how we develop skills and concepts such as science, language, and recording history. We need these things if we're to thrive as a species. Without it, we might as well move over and let the next brutish lifeforms start running the planet."

"And you think all this hinges on whether or not I like books?"

She grimaced. "So maybe you wouldn't singlehandedly doom our entire race, but as ducal prince, you're expected to have a certain level of education in fields other than science. This is the first step in gaining insight on what your peers will speak of and earning favor within all these convoluted social circles. This is a dangerous world we live in, and when you aim to survive all these court intrigues and royal plots and to one day have a family of your own, having favor with potential enemies and allies is crucial. You can't live without it."

Indignant, the ducal prince crossed his arms and looked away. "Mother and Father would never force these frivolities on me."

The soft hand of the princess gently cupped his chin and turned his gaze back to her so their eyes met. She spoke in a voice concerned and sympathetic, "You know as well as I the duke and duchess are busied by their never-ending war councils in the borderlands. Someone has to keep the realm safe from the invaders. Sadly, that means Mother and Father won't be present to teach you these life skills." She brushed a handful of the boy's silver locks away from his face. He would need a trim soon. "But I'm still here. And I've chosen to be responsible for you. In one years' time, I'll be old enough to act as stewardess, and then I'll have to manage the duchy while Mother and Father are away. By then, I'll be too busy to take care of you, so I want to do as much as I can now before it's too late."

Disarmed but discomfited, Ienzo huffed, "But don't we have tutors for this? You don't have to waste your time on my schooling."

"It's not a waste. I'm trying to get you ahead. You'll thank me when you're trying to make important friends or court a wife."

"Eh?!" the prince shrieked. "Is that where this is going?!"

The princess giggled. "Eventually, yes. You want to keep the family line strong, don't you?"

By now, Ienzo was red-faced at discovering the extent of his curriculum. "Are—are we going to practice dancing too?"

At this, she chortled, using a hand to cover her mouth. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You're nowhere near ready for dancing." His blush intensified, but he held his tongue. Evelyn continued, "Conversation comes first, little brother. If you can't charm the girls with your silver tongue, they'll never want to dance with you. …Actually, that's not always the case, but this will still make you a better catch."

"Catch this," Ienzo retorted, more flustered than mad, and reunited his sister's face with the pillow.

When the cushion receded from its point of impact and fell to Evelyn's lap, Ienzo found the princess' mien of sisterly love and parental concern overridden by that of a warrior's cracking leer. One look at her boiling gaze and malicious grin and he knew he was in deep trouble. She hissed in a low, intimidating voice, "So, you wanna dance after all, huh?" She lunged at him, "I'll give you a dance!"

The prince yelped under the assault of the girl more than twice his age, squirming in every desperate attempt to call on his meager repertoire of physical combat skills.

They grappled far longer than either cared to notice, she with her advantages in age, height, reach, and strength, and he with his speed and deeper reserves of energy. Both had intelligence to spare, one the artist and the other the scientist, yet both schools of thought were superseded by sibling savagery. When the minutes or hours ended, the ducal heirs laid sprawled and panting by each other's sides on the ravaged bed, their hair and clothes a mess, their young muscles aching, and their bodies sweating profusely in the aftermath.

The princess' plans of higher education had clearly gone unfulfilled that night.

But for all derailed intentions of furthering her brother's knowledge of the fine arts, Evelyn looked out the window to the stars and wondered: The war seems so far away. I haven't felt this at peace in so long. But it can't stay this way. If our forces can't repel the Palamecian invaders, we'll all have to grow up far sooner than we'd like.

She felt her brother's weight shift next to her. She looked over and found him sitting upright and pointing out the window. "Eve, look," he directed. She followed. He continued, "It's a falling star."

That brought a smile to her face. It wasn't just the appearance of the romanticized meteor that lifted her spirits, but her brother's consideration. Ienzo had never cared for such childish fancies, but he knew Evelyn still did. This was the least he could do after disrupting her attempts at broadening his mind.

She was on her knees by the window in seconds, hands clasped as she gazed exuberantly at the falling star. But when she bowed her head and closed her eyes to make a wish, she remembered something: she hadn't thought of her own desires ever since the war started. Her position demanded that she learn to place the wellbeing of her family and future subjects above herself. That hadn't left her much room to ponder what she'd spend her next wish on. She caught Ienzo staring in some confusion from the corner of her vision. Naturally, he was mystified at her apparent inability to make a wish.

But that's when she knew. And with her loving smile and the affectionate look in her eyes directed at him, Ienzo also knew—and half-dreaded—that she'd learned her desire. Her attention redirected in her prayer to the falling star, she muttered her heart's greatest wish under her breath so only she and her chosen star knew it.

"Should I be worried that you look so happy?" Ienzo asked.

She flashed a languorous smirk. "I'll never tell."

"You wished for something really stupid to happen to me, didn't you?"

"Only the star knows the day and the hour."

The sky brightened then, the eerie emerald glow of the meteorite suddenly intensifying as it careened further across the sky. With captivated and fearful eyes, the children beheld it tear violently into the distant horizon until their terror-filled souls realized where the extraterrestrial missile would fall.

The war-council…Mother and Father!

The fallen star detonated the nightly horizon, obliterating all life and infrastructure in those distant borderlands where the duke and duchess, dozens of other nobles, and even the sage-king himself convened with their fellow war-leaders. And from the cataclysmic blast, a gargantuan shockwave rippled across towns and forests, decimating everything and petrifying Ienzo where he knelt on the bed, far too stricken to move though he knew the wave drew nearer. Evelyn entered his line of vision and screamed, "Get down!" before throwing herself over him for protection. Not a second later, they felt the calamitous tremors of earth and wind shake the castle, dismantle entire walls and bulwarks of brick and stone in mere instants, and the sheer force of it all flung the newly-orphaned siblings across the collapsing room like ragdolls with no promise of living past these decisive moments.

The kingdom mourned its losses the following day.

The crown was placed upon the head of Radiant Garden's new sage-king, Ansem the Wise, and all bowed who'd gathered before him in the vast courtyard of the city's capital palace, where dozens of pyres and thousands of candles were lit in honor of those lost in what many called the "Night of Calamity."

"Spirits preserve King Ansem," declared the bishop. "Long live the king!"

The somber masses clutched their wreathes and tokens as they reiterated, "Long live the king!"

But the words barely left Ienzo's mouth. He stood brokenhearted among the nobles, moderately bandaged under his royal garments and leaning on a cane, but otherwise miraculously uninjured from his home's destruction. He felt Evelyn's hand squeeze his own for support, and he afforded a sideways glance at her. She'd taken far more injuries in acting as her brother's shield and suffered greatly for it. Even now, her primary reason for holding Ienzo's hand was so she wouldn't lose her balance from the most recent dose of painkillers the doctor had given her. She was visibly tired and drowsy, as it showed on the right half of her face—the half uncovered by heavy bandages. The left would undoubtedly be disfigured forever, as would be many other parts of her hidden beneath her royal clothes. But bandages and clothing could hide the wounds; what unsettled Ienzo most of all was what he saw—what couldn't be hidden: that his sister's right sleeve was tucked up to where her elbow once was.

And that was the image of the two broken ducal heirs: the only survivors of their palace's destruction and the last of their bloodline.

The hours following the mass funeral and coronation offered the royal orphans a glimpse of their miserable futures. Fatigue steadily grew over Evelyn as she continued trying to stand and periodically consumed the prescribed painkillers. Ienzo opened the bottle for her as she sat in a chair in one of the palace's bustling reception halls. Young though he was, his senses were anomalously fine-tuned, and he heard every slander whispered about him and his sister during the double-ceremony's reception.

"Are those them? The inbred royals?"

"Difficult to imagine anyone survived their home's destruction. Such a shame they were the ones to live."

"Their family was long-overdue for natural selection to purge them from the earth."

"And yet, these two remain."

"What do you suppose will become of them? The daughter is still one year shy of inheriting the dukedom, and even then, all that remains of their wealth and property is a smoldering crater. She won't be able to marry into wealth either—not with those disfigurements. She may have been a vision despite her parentage, but after last night, no respectable noble would consider courting her."

"They'll be forgotten, Spirits willing, and their incestuous bloodline will die in obscurity in a gutter somewhere."

Ienzo's fists clenched and his young body shook with anger. He felt the rising urge to storm over there and scream and strike down those who judged him and his sister purely by their parentage. As if it's our fault we were born into this family!

He very nearly gave into his violent impulses, but feeling Evelyn's left—and only—hand squeeze his own stayed him from an outburst he would have regretted. He turned to her, still visibly incensed, but looking into her sad, knowing eye—the right one, uncovered by gauze—brought a gradual calmness to him. She spoke in an empathetic voice, "Don't listen to them. I promised I'd take care of you, and I will, no matter where life takes us."

He still trembled, though only intermittently. "But how?" he pleaded. "You can barely even stand."

"That doesn't matter," she tried to assure him. "I'll find a way to give you the life you deserve. There's nothing I won't do for you."

But she still didn't understand. Even now, Ienzo didn't care for his own future. He was perfectly at peace with staying the recluse he'd always been. But after the tragedy, he did finally discover a purpose for his life, and it had nothing to do with his own prosperity. He took a good look at the kindhearted woman-becoming who'd dedicated so much of her life to raising him to thrive in spite of the generational prejudice their family faced—the gallant princess who shielded him with her own body when hellfire destroyed their home—and who continued to do so at the expense of her own future. He beheld her brave, selfless heart with newfound admiration and respect and wanted to proclaim to her then and there, "Evelyn, you've given me more than any living soul should ever have to sacrifice. Please, let me give you my life in return! You deserve my eternal loyalty and gratitude and I promise to stay by your side and repay you for every sacrifice you ever made for me!"

But astonished murmurs from the crowd behind them prevented Ienzo from verbalizing this declaration of fealty. The sounds of fearful reverence claimed his attention.

"Is that him?"

"Sir Even!"

"How strange to see him in public without his entourage!"

"What could he be up to? He doesn't seem like himself tonight."

In moments, the tall man's blackened silhouette was upon young Ienzo, entrapping him in the stygian shadow that, even two years later, the boy remained under the limitless reach of. He didn't register Even as human when he first set eyes on him. Still suppressing his rage at those who desired his family's destruction, the lingering ire filtered his vision and briefly caused him to perceive the lanky nobleman regally dressed in black and azure accoutrements as less of a man and more of a dark, blurred abyss atop which rested a demon's malevolent leer—a heartless beast unsated by the lives it devoured and which only desired to ensnare as many souls, pure and corrupt alike, as were possible in its far-too-long lifespan.

But this naïve foresight was only temporary. The orphaned royals couldn't have known then what this demon in angel's clothing had planned for them.

The Devil's voice was sharp and sophisticated, "If you'll pardon my intrusion, you are Princess Evelyn and Prince Ienzo, correct?"

Ienzo was speechless, but Evelyn maintained her composure. "Yes, we are, sir," she answered. "Apologies, but I don't believe we've made your acquaintance."

The blonde man affected a warm smile and replied, "No, we haven't. He swept one arm over his stomach and another in the air and bowed grandly to them. "I am Doctor Even, chief science officer in service to the monarchy, an esteemed advisor to our newly-appointed king, and an old friend of your dearly departed parents."

Neither rank nor title mattered to the orphans, but that final piece of information was enough to seal their attention. Jaw briefly agape, Evelyn quickly caught herself and attempted a half-bow in return. "It—it's a privilege to meet you, sir."

But Even raised a hand. "Please, there's no need to strain yourself, Princess. The same goes for you, my prince. I understand your wounds must make it difficult to move." He paused a moment as Evelyn gratefully returned to an upright position. Then he continued, "When I heard the duke and duchess were lost to that 'calamity from the skies,' I was utterly heartbroken. And yet, to find that you survived is a relief beyond measure."

For all her pain and weariness, Evelyn managed a small, sad smile. "And we are relieved as well, sir, to find a friend when we feared we'd find none."

Even nodded knowingly. "Yes, I've heard the whispers circulating the courtiers. No matter what bile you hear from them or how questionable the duke and duchess' union was, your parents were magnificent politicians and even more honorable human beings. It is out of my eternal gratitude and loyalty to them that I approach you now. All are aware that your duchy lies in shambles and your inheritance reduced to cinders. No one can ever replace what you've lost, but if you'll permit me, I know of a way to save you and your brother from life and death on the streets."

The gutters would have been more merciful than Even's proposal…