Vitinia was happy. Her life was a simple one. But it was good. Luke’s father hadn’t spoken with her in years, but Matthew had never wanted to speak with her. Not really. She’d been a fling for him, and not one he’d ever be interested in for long. Not considering how much older she was. That was alright. She didn’t need his money. She had Luke, and she had Aethon. The sun would support her child where his father would not. She knew he wouldn’t. She didn’t need to tell him when she realized she was pregnant. He wasn’t a man who cared about anything more than money. She’d see how he treated his sister and her children. How he’d nearly let her die when she was sick.

  Vitinia didn’t want support like that. Not for herself, and not for Luke. She wanted kind support. Warm support. She wanted to love—and be loved by—those who helped her raise her son. Aethon would give her that. Aethon and his followers. If she needed to survive as a single mother, she would survive by Aethon’s grace. That was more than enough for her. And in return, she would offer to teach. She needed a kind of help, and the temple she was relying on needed a different kind.

  She was certain they would keep her clothed, and fed, and they would keep Luke safe and housed. And she could share her experiences. Her wisdom. She’d watched, day after day and week after week. As the number of regular attendees for service dropped. As women made the same mistakes she did. She watched so many people willingly wandering from the daylight and closer to Luna’s gift. She understood why it was called that, now. As a young woman, she’d thought it was strange to give death a name that sounded so desirable. But she understood, once she’d experienced it.

  It wasn’t death itself that felt like a gift. It was every colorful light and delicious trap that led Aethon’s children to death. That was Luna’s real gift. It was the poisoned cakes and tainted water that tasted so sweet until it turned to rot in your stomach. It was an easy mistake to make. It really was. She knew that from experience. It was only through Aethon’s grace that she was given such a gift instead of the death she’d been wandering toward. Luke. That sweet child, so new to the world. So innocent. It was when she saw his face for the first time that she understood. That was when she knew she was wandering towards death. Away from Aethon’s grace and toward Luna’s gift.

  She would save her son from that. She would protect him. They would have a humble life. She knew that. But it would be a good one. And Luke would never have to face Luna’s gift. And if she could get the temple to listen… if she could just reach them… well. If she could do that, maybe she could save more than herself and her son.

  Vitinia had made her mistakes. She knew that. But she’d found the sun again, and this was her chance to truly be *good*. Good, like her father taught her. Not good like the lie Luna’s gift promised. But truly, truly good.

  The temple was struggling more than ever. Luke was nearly eleven summers old, and he was starting to understand that his friends always had more than he did. Newer clothes. Better food. Aethon had provided what Vitinia needed to survive and raise a child. But he wouldn’t provide a stone more than that. She loved her son. He was her entire world, and he deserved better. No child deserved to feel like they were less. Like they deserved more than hand-me-down clothes and barely enough food to feel full.

  She wanted to offer him more. But Aethon wouldn’t budge. And she knew why. She hadn’t been fulfilling her part of the bargain she’d made. On the day she met her son, she faced Aethon in the sky, and she made a promise. If Aethon gave her and her son a happy life, she would save his temple. She would lead his children back to the path of sunlight and away from Luna’s gift. And she tried. She truly tried. But, while the temple allowed her to stay in an old house that had been donated to her, they would not allow her to teach. That wasn’t the role Aethon had chosen for her, they said. She didn’t know how to tell them the truth if they wouldn’t listen to her.

  Still, she tried. She spoke to anyone who would listen to her. She shared her concerns with the acolytes and told them which of Aethon’s children were being led astray by Luna’s gift. Every day. Every week. She tried. She witnessed the growing disregard the people of Beddenmor had for Aethon. How selfish they were becoming. How many stopped attending temple each day, or even once per week. And lately, even that wasn’t working. Only the youngest Acolytes were ever sent to listen to her anymore, and that seemed to be all they were doing. No one would warn Aethon’s children of the dangers she was witnessing on her behalf. Not anymore. No one would stop them, and they wouldn’t listen to her.

  She couldn’t speak to them directly, or she would be ignored. She couldn’t share her concerns with Aethon’s acolytes, or they would pretend to write her concerns down while badly suppressing how annoyed they were to speak with her. When Luke was born, Vitinia had promised to save his temple in Beddenmor. To save his people. And she was failing. So, of course, she wasn’t allowed a happy life. She’d tried to buy one with a promise she couldn’t fulfill.

  It was by Aethon’s grace alone that she was allowed even enough to survive.

  Luke still loved her. That was all Vitinia had left. He still listened to her. He still believed her words, and he wouldn’t be led astray by the lies of the city that had forgotten Aethon’s face. That was where she lived. A city that rejected Aethon, and she was forced to pay the price for it. Luke was forced to pay the price for it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He was a man now. Nearly nineteen summers old. He was working. Helping to sell fish at the market, though he lacked the stomach to actually help catch them. He was too timid for it. Too afraid of the ocean. But he was helping. It just… wasn’t enough. Vitinia had finally broken and reached out to Matthew. She’d finally told her one-time fling about their son, and about her struggles taking care of him.

  But she wasn’t beautiful anymore. Not to Matthew. And that was all he’d ever cared about. She’d started older than him, and stress had aged her further. He responded exactly as she’d expected him to. With indifference. The cruelest answer he could give her. He simply didn’t care. He had “more important worries”. More important than her life, and more important than his son. She’d expected as much. She remembered how the man had treated his sister. She saw every day how Matthew treated his legitimate son. It was desperation alone that drove her to seek his help.

  She didn’t even blame him. Not really. It was what Beddenmor turned people into. It encouraged Aethon’s children to chase Luna’s gift instead. It always had so many distractions. Pleasure and phantom pain alike. Invented sickness to control the people of the city. Food, drink, and beds that so many people found warmer than those of their spouses. Or the spouse they could have if they followed Aethon instead of their own frivolities. Like she had done. She wondered if she’d be married and happy if she hadn’t made the same mistake. She cursed as she watched a city repeat her mistakes.

  There were so many lies taking center stage, and so few people listening to the acolytes. She’d accepted that no one would listen to her, and she couldn’t fulfill her promise. She’d never earn happiness. Because her faith was feeble, and her efforts were wanting. When the governor had spread word of a plague a few years back, she’d hidden. She’d lived in fear instead of trust. She understood afterwards that it had been a lie. Just another distraction. Another tactic to keep the people living in fear. It was a test, she realized. An opportunity for her to finally speak up. To tell people they *could* feel joy. They didn’t need to fear sickness, and they didn’t need the temptations of Luna to be happy. She’d learned more people had gone to the temple, not less, during the plague. But she hadn’t. Because her faith wasn’t strong enough.

  Aethon and Luke were all she had left. She loved them both, and even after everything, Luke trusted her. She decided she would try one last thing. She could still fulfill her promise to Aethon. She could cure people of their fear and their lust. She just needed their attention. Not attention granted by the Acolytes. Not attention granted by Matthew or money. But true, faithful attention.

  And, with Luke’s help, she had a plan. With just a little work, trust, and faith, she could finally convince people to listen.

  Vitinia had given up. Her plan had gone wrong. She’d done everything she could, but she realized it now. She was cursed for her lack of faith. It was her punishment for her sins when she was younger. For ignoring Aethon for a charming young man and a few weeks of fun. It was her punishment for making promises that were beyond her. She wasn’t a stupid woman. She worked hard, and she had wisdom to share.

  But Luna had cursed her to never be heard.

  The plan had worked, at first. At least, in a way. It hadn’t done what she planned. She was still ignored. Perhaps more so than she ever had been. But Luke… Luke had earned the respect that Vitinia was owed. That hurt a little. She would admit as much. It stung to have her son respected where she was not. But he trusted her. He admired her. And he listened to her advice. They started their own temple. Away from the acolytes. Under the temple, instead of inside of it. They were growing while the temple was shrinking. And like Aethon, she could shine through the works of her child.

  Or, she’d thought she could.

  Until the famine. It didn’t matter. Not really. Just another distraction. Another worry. She’d never been allowed much food anyway. It was so obvious to her. It was just the Governor and Luna’s other agents trying to lead people away from Aethon as they always had. They used the carrot and the stick at the same time. Whatever would distract people from the temple. Whatever would drive it into the ground. This was when Luke first turned on her.

  It seemed to him like a small disagreement. He wanted people to stop living their lives under Aethon’s example. He wanted to share what food he could with everyone. Or rather, *anyone*. But she'd learned. She'd learned from Aethon, and even from Luna, that those who strayed from his light had earned their struggles. They’d earned their hunger, and those who didn’t change their ways had earned worse. Like she had. But Luke wanted to reward those who refused to work. Those who never attended temple services. Those who so easily found their way out of their dresses in strangers’ beds. He wanted to share everything with everyone. Meanwhile, faithful servants of the sun were asked to accept Aethon’s punishment for sins they hadn’t committed. They were asked to live as Vitinia had. Like they were being punished.

  Aethon did not hurt his faithful children. Even in times of famine, they were to revel in Aethon’s presence. And Aethon did not reward those who rejected him. Even in times of plenty, they were to pay for their mistakes. She tried to explain this to Luke. But… someone had gotten to him. She was certain. She didn’t know who. But they had. He was changing. He was challenging her wisdom. And through her, he was challenging and defying Aethon himself.

  It broke her heart. And she had no idea what to do. Her son no longer respected her. He thought he’d outgrown her wisdom. He no longer loved her like he should. She didn’t understand who would turn a child from their mother, but someone had. When he told her he was going to reveal the truth… when he said he was going to tell their entire congregation what they had done in Aethon’s name… She was hopeless.

  Until Matthew Cross died.