Deus Necros

The next morning, Ludwig discovered that destroying manifestations of mortal sin had done little to prepare him for breakfast after kissing Celine.

He stopped outside the dining room and looked through the open doorway. Celine sat near one end of the table with a cup of tea between her hands. Thomas floated beside the window while a servant arranged bread, preserved fruit, and several covered dishes. Ludwig had entered this room hundreds of times, yet the twelve chairs around the table had somehow become a problem.

The chair opposite Celine offered the same distance they usually kept. The one beside her made more sense after the previous night, though choosing it felt like announcing something neither of them had discussed.

Celine watched him examine the table. ”Are you planning to join us, or are you waiting for one of the chairs to attack first?”

”I’m deciding where to sit,” Ludwig said. ”There are more options than necessary.”

”There are twelve chairs, and you have used most of them before. I promise their purpose hasn’t changed overnight.”

Thomas turned from the window. ”Do you need someone to explain how they work?”

Ludwig chose the seat opposite Celine and sat down. ”I know how chairs work. Both of you can stop being helpful.”

Celine lowered her eyes toward her tea, though the smile at the corner of her mouth remained visible. Ludwig reached for a piece of bread and tried to focus on breakfast. Moonlight, night blooms, and the memory of Celine meeting him halfway during their second kiss returned with irritating clarity.

Thomas studied them for several seconds. ”Something happened.”

”Nothing happened,” Ludwig and Celine answered together.

The fire spirit brightened. ”Answering at exactly the same time made that considerably less convincing.”

Celine lifted her cup. ”Nothing happened that requires your involvement.”

”That is different from nothing happening.”

Ludwig pointed the bread at him. ”Find another subject before I assign you enough work to occupy the rest of the week.”

Thomas glanced at Celine, received no assistance, and turned back toward the window. ”I was only making conversation.”

Celine touched the empty chair beside her. ”You could sit here if you want. Thomas already knows something happened, so maintaining a defensive perimeter across the table serves little purpose.”

”I’m already seated. Changing places now would make this more conspicuous than it needs to be.”

”You stood in the doorway for ten seconds because you couldn’t choose a chair.”

”That was a private difficulty until you mentioned it.”

Thomas nodded with exaggerated seriousness. ”Moving now would be terribly inefficient.”

Ludwig glared at him until the spirit became deeply interested in something beyond the window.

Breakfast continued with an awkwardness neither Ludwig nor Celine acknowledged. They discussed the Holy Order’s progress, the remaining corruption east of the settlement, and the number of fields expected to become usable before the next planting season. Thomas complained that two priests had barred him from their purification circles after he accidentally ignited an entire bundle of incense.

The conversation sounded ordinary. The glances passing across the table did not.

When breakfast ended, Ludwig and Celine rose at the same time and tried to leave along the same side of the table. They stepped left together, corrected to the right, and blocked each other again.

Thomas watched from the window. ”Would either of you like assistance?”

”For crying out loud...” Ludwig stopped moving and gestured for Celine to pass.

She laughed as she walked around him. Her fingers brushed across his hand on the way, light enough to appear accidental to anyone who had not been beneath the night blooms with her. Ludwig knew better now.

Thomas floated closer once she left. ”So, what exactly are the two of you doing?”

Ludwig looked at him until the fire spirit retreated through the nearest doorway.

The strange tension lasted for another two days without becoming unpleasant. Ludwig and Celine continued working, eating together, and arguing over his attempts to involve himself in every repair project across Bastos. In the evenings, she sometimes joined him on the porch. Their shoulders would touch, and neither made an excuse to move away.

On the second morning, Ludwig sat beside her at breakfast without considering it. He only noticed after reaching for the bread. Celine noticed as well, but the quiet smile she gave him was the only acknowledgment.

By then, Ludwig had decided that their relationship could remain undefined for a while. He liked Celine, wanted to spend time with her, and intended to kiss her again. Those facts seemed clear enough.

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The first cow stopped eating the following morning.

The farmer separated it from the herd and spent most of the day checking its teeth, stomach, and waste. He found no injury or sign of sickness. The animal simply stood beside a full trough and refused to lower its head.

Six more cattle stopped eating the next day. Celine sent one of the Holy Order’s clerics to examine them, but he found no disease, parasite, curse, or trace of the Moonflayed King’s corruption. Their bodies appeared healthy despite their refusal to feed.

By the end of the week, the number had reached twenty-three.

The crops changed soon afterward. Wheat south of Bastos began maturing weeks ahead of schedule. Stalks thickened overnight, green fields turned gold, and heavy heads bent toward the soil beneath the apparent weight of grain. Several farmers opened a bottle to celebrate, and one family sent word to the manor offering Celine the first flour from the early harvest.

Then someone split open an ear of wheat.

The husks had formed correctly, and every grain possessed the proper shape. Their interiors contained nothing except dry dust. Farmers opened samples from different ends of the field and found the same hollow growth in every one.

Reports from the wells arrived that evening. The water remained clear, cold, and free of anything the priests could identify. People drank it without becoming ill, yet the thirst returned before they lowered their cups.

Thomas brought the full report to breakfast the following morning. Ludwig had already grown accustomed to sitting beside Celine, but the spirit’s expression drove every thought of their new arrangement from his mind.

”The southern farms have a serious problem,” Thomas said as he placed a ledger upon the table. ”Four wheat fields matured early, and every grain examined so far has been hollow. The cattle problem has spread through three herds, and two households near the southern road reported that their well water no longer relieves thirst.”

Celine pushed her chair back. ”The Holy Order already cleared that land. Did any of the purification markers fail?”

”They’re intact. The priests checked them last night and found no returning corruption.”

Ludwig set down his knife. ”Have they examined the animals and the water?”

”Several times. They found nothing in either.”

”How much of the harvest is affected?” Celine asked.

”Four fields are confirmed. More reports were arriving when I left.”

Celine closed the ledger and stood. ”Take us there.”

Breakfast remained untouched as they left the manor.

The southern farms lay well within the area the Holy Order had purified. Silver markers stood at regular intervals along the road, and the land showed none of the red veins, twisted roots, or crimson reflections left by the Moonflayed King. According to every visible sign, the cleansing had worked.

The wheat still looked magnificent from a distance. Golden stalks rolled beneath the morning breeze, dense enough to promise a harvest that could feed Bastos through the coming season. The farmers gathered at the field’s edge watched it with the expressions of people standing before a mass grave.

Misty waited among them with four priests. One held an ear of wheat in his palm and split it open as Ludwig and Celine approached. Dry powder clung to his fingers.

”We took samples from the center and every edge,” Misty said. ”The same thing is happening across the entire field. The plants matured, formed husks, and produced the shape of grain without creating anything inside it.”

Celine turned to the nearest farmer. ”What about the surrounding fields?”

”The three we checked are the same, my lady. We stopped opening them after the first few rows because there was no difference.”

”Were there any warning signs before the growth accelerated?”

The farmer removed his hat and twisted it between his hands. ”Nothing we noticed. The irrigation was steady, the soil looked good, and the stalks grew better every morning. We thought the Order had improved the land.”

Ludwig entered the field and pulled one of the stalks from the earth. The roots were properly formed, with no discoloration or decay. When he pressed his fingers into the ground around them, however, the soil crumbled dry against his skin.

The irrigation channel ran less than three steps away. Water moved steadily through it, yet the earth along its banks held almost no moisture.

Misty crouched beside him. ”We already checked for breaks beneath the channel. The water enters the soil, but the ground refuses to retain it. It’s like something is preventing the soil from drinking.”

Ludwig looked around the fields.

”And It’s happening everywhere.