Aetherias Moon

by Aetherias Moon

Pale of moon, Vibrant as light,

A caress of sun, A kiss of night.

Broken heavens, Divinity intertwined,

Eternal lovers, Their devotion bind.

Era traced the lines of the poem and hummed quietly. He no longer needed to read it, the words inscribed in his mind, but he treasured opening the musty book and seeing where it all began. As a child, he had read the story of the first Queen of Night and the King of Light. The pair had saved the skies from shattering, becoming entwined with the sun and moon respectively. Forever trapped lightyears apart, their spirits would be drawn to each other endlessly. One tragedy would lead to infinite happy endings in other lives, and each set of eternal lovers brought prosperity to the realm. Every single story of love was written in this dusty golden book.

Today another story would be penned.

Era’s tan bedroom flickered with candlelight. A small bed huddled next to his desk littered with papers.

“Era, are you reading the tome again?” Calyse said, her blonde hair and pale skin covered by a hood. Era himself wore a white robe that covered his ivory skin and white hair. Simple curling antlers poked out from his hood; despite that, many people thought he was a woman with his slender frame hidden by the cloak that denoted him as a high priest.

He peeked up at her. “Isn’t it fitting that I read it today?”

“You’ve already memorized everything! It’s time to get ready.”

Era cradled the book in his arms as he walked out of the door with Calyse. “I suppose they will be needing this.”

---

Era stood next to the Luminary, the woman of highest rank amongst the clergy; she wore embroidered robes with a veil completely obscuring her face. They stood on a silver dais with phases of the moon carved on it. Behind them reigned the Queen of Night on her throne, her silver hair shimmering under the moonstone above her. On the other side of the room perched the Queen of Light, her golden hair gleaming beneath a sunstone; she sat on a golden dais with suns engraved along it. The room opened up to the sky, a faint shimmer of energy enclosing the room from the elements. A pathway crossed the room and connected the two daises. People burbled on either side of the stage in ascending seats.

Prince Shirin stood in front of the Queen of Light. He had tan skin and midnight hair, a distinct coloring for those of the light, and his eyes were a blazing orange that almost reminded Era of a cat. Intricate golden antlers arced out of his hair. Era’s heartbeat thumped all over his body as a stream of electricity tickled his neck.

Era adored the story where a young Prince of Night, Midea, met the Prince of Light, Lumos. Lumos was destined to marry Midea’s sister. Yet, instead of being pulled towards his betrothed, Lumos found himself entranced by Midea. Though they had their difficulties, in the end they realized that those two shared an entwined soul.

Era wondered if Lumos had felt something like this.

He had almost forgotten The Princess of Night, Elora, who stood in front of the Luminary. Today marked the first time her eyes set on Shirin. How would it feel to meet the person your soul was entwined with? It felt like a rock had sunk into Era’s stomach. Era had just begun his adventure as the Eternal Lovers scribe. The ceremony should have been wondrous, a moment in time that he would always treasure. He had dreamed of watching over the next pair and seeing his handwriting in his favorite book, but tremors ran down the fingers against the tome.

“Prince Shirin, may you approach Princess Elora, the woman who shares your soul.”

Shirin walked forward stiffly. Era couldn’t read the expression on the man’s face. Shirin glanced past the Princess and the Luminary. Their eyes locked, lightning passing through their gaze. Era clenched the tome to his chest.

The room fell silent and after a moment Era looked around. The Luminary stared at him through her veil. Fumbling with the book, Era managed to open it and recite the First Story with a shaky voice. His voice calmed but his heart became lead. The ache of the lovers embedded in him like never before; a violent pull that could corral the moon.

The Luminary took over when he finished. He fell into a daze as the two were blessed and the ceremony came to an end. The room clapped. Era’s gaze locked on Shirin who kept stealing glances at him.

The Lovers would have a series of events, a banquet, a dance, and then on the third day they would be officiated. A whirlwind of events that Era had already gotten caught up in. First, he would have to interview them for the sake of recording their story.

Before he knew it those vibrant eyes were boring into his soul. He avoided the gaze, taking in the sunroom. Flowers grew out of planters, and vines decorated the ceiling. A silver moon peeked in through the arcs of the glass dome. The two lovers sat on ornate chairs, one gilded and the other silver. Elora seemed interested in the scenery, meanwhile Shirin’s gaze wouldn’t leave Era.

“How do you feel about meeting each other for the first time?” Era nearly stumbled over his words as he tried to look at the roses instead of Shirin, yet it seemed the man had a magnetic pull.

They looked at each other, Elora smiled faintly, Shirin’s eyes hunted like a cat.

“It’s nice,” Elora said.

“I think.” Shirin leaned forward, “things might be interesting.”

Era’s hand shook as he tried to find a way to turn those responses into something vaguely useful. His mentors had told him that it wasn’t about writing the truth but capturing the “essence,” of the lovers. He glanced up and saw Shirin searching across Era’s body. Era blushed. Shirin smirked.

“Who are you anyway?” he asked.

“I just said-”

“Yeah, but I don’t understand. You’re going to follow us around and write down every little thing we do? What if we start making out, are you going to write that down too? Do you get to make it juicy?”

Era sputtered and hoped he couldn’t see him blushing. Shirin’s wicked smile made Era shiver. His eyes traced the sparse words on the page. His stomach sank. Era had dreamed of being a scribe his whole life yet he’d already messed up.

“That’s enough.” Elora blushed. “You’re embarrassing him.”

Shirin just chuckled. The rest of the interview went by in a blur. Elora loved the arts, music especially, and Shirin enjoyed exploring nature and getting into trouble. Shirin’s teasing never ended and neither did Elora’s chiding.

Shirin and Elora hurried to get ready for the banquet and Era did the same. He shut the door to his study. Era had managed to glean something from the interview and hoped his embellishments would bring the story to life. Blazing eyes flashed through his mind. Static crackled in his core. He had to go to the dinner as the official scribe, needing to watch as the two began their journey together. He squeezed the book to his chest and slid down the door. Wrapping his arms around his legs, he sighed and cradled the book against his chest.

The minutes piled on top of each other until finally Calyse came and checked on him. He lied about not feeling well. In the end it wasn’t really wrong. Still, shame wrapped around him. She kindly left him alone, saying that they would send someone to bring him food.

“What am I doing?” Rubbing his face into his knees, he let out a muffled scream. Frustration bloomed in a bouquet of passion he didn’t want. He shoved off his hood and white hair fluttered down his shoulders. Opening the book to a random page, the name Idia caught his attention: it was the story of the kind Prince and the warrior Queen. The Prince had been timid and sweet. It had been impossible for him to keep up with the Queen who always went on adventures. A woman with many conquests. The dramatic twists and turns made it many young women’s favorites. He hadn’t been too fond of it. Maybe it was because he was a little too similar to the kind Prince, someone who was often portrayed as being timid to a fault.

Recognizing he still sat on the floor of his room rather than at a banquet he needed to be at, he knew he was avoiding something. That had to be considered timid. What am I even afraid of?

He sighed. Someone knocked on the door.

Era opened the door and immediately dropped the tome.

“Hey Era,” Shirin’s silky voice rustled like leaves. He stared down at Era, whose heart had forgotten its job. Shirin’s playful eyes widened.

“Are you okay?” The Prince rushed into the room and put his palm on Era’s forehead. Era froze. Heartbeats thundered in his ears.

“You’re so warm,” Shirin whispered.

“Prince Shirin?” Era managed to say. Shirin’s hand felt slightly rough as it slid down to Era’s cheek. For a moment Era stared into Shirin’s sunset eyes. “Wh-why are you here?”

Shirin hesitantly retracted his hand. Red tinged the Prince’s cheeks and he ran a hand through his midnight curls.

“I was worried when you didn’t show up,” he said.

“Huh?”

“You’re the official scribe, right?”

Era nodded. Noticing the book sprawled on the floor, he scrambled to pick it up. His white curls brushed against the ground. Red burst like a thousand sunsets on his cheeks. His hood had fallen down.

“They said you weren’t feeling good,” Shirin said. “I think you have a fever.”

“Mm-maybe?” Era mumbled. “Wait, but your highness, that doesn’t explain why you’re here? Shouldn’t you be with Elora?”

Shirin looked away; no smile danced on his lips this time.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you when you were sick. But, has anyone come to take a look at you?”

“Not yet.” Era pulled his hood back on to cover his burning face. “But don’t worry your Highness. I’m sure I’ll feel better and be able to properly work as your scribe tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about that,” Shirin said with a voice like winter wind.

“Oh.”

“I care that you feel better,” he said. “And call me Shirin.”

Era didn’t say anything. Hugging the book to his chest, he tried to breathe normally. Footsteps pattered in the distance and Shirin turned, letting out a summer curse. Era tilted his head in surprise and the Prince’s lips thinned as he looked away.

“I have to go, but I’ll make sure someone comes to take care of you.” He reached his hand out like he was going to touch Era again, but then paused and turned away.

“I promise,” he said. With that the Prince of Light disappeared. Crumbling to his knees, Era let out a small laugh. He felt sunburnt. A couple minutes later medics came to cart him away to the infirmary. He barely heard their probing questions or felt their examinations. They weren’t going to find the sickness plaguing him; an illness he didn’t want to admit to having.

---

The next day, Era presented himself to the pair of lovers. Elora wore a silver dress and looked at him with kind disinterest. Shirin watched him, his lips pressed into a line. Uneasiness coiled in Era’s stomach. Soon he was dismissed to follow from a distance and be as discreet as a new moon.

Era stood next to an autumn tree as the wind picked up the smell of honey. Before him sat the pair of lovers. Watching from a comfortable distance, he could only hear their words like the burbling of a stream. Era had to practically force his way out of the infirmary. He wouldn’t give into his anxieties. It was his job…even if that job felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He tightened his fingers on the tome. It’s all I want. He needed to remember that.

The Lovers were nestled under a tent with temporary flooring splayed out beneath them. Wildflowers dusted the meadow around them. Today, rubies entwined through Shirin’s antlers, a couple dusting his forehead. Elora sat with her back to Era, but she turned to look at him following the gaze of Shirin. She pouted slightly and looked away. Era purposefully turned his eyes on his book as if there were something in there for him to study.

Elora excused herself to use the bathroom and Era’s heart fluttered. The Prince had been staring at him all day. He wouldn’t come up to speak to him would he? The heavy book weighed as much as all of his years of devotion. The Prince spoke with his attendant. Era sighed, his heart aching. Why had the Prince come to see him last night?

Era unconsciously opened the tome: it was the story of Shim and Muna. In the story Muna had constantly run away from Shim. Muna denied her destiny. She didn’t believe that she should have to get married, but Shim truly felt that they were connected and pursued her persistently. One day Muna fell in love as well…or gave in. Were some of the lovers in this book actually not destined for each other? A sacrilegious thought, especially as the official scribe of the eternal lovers. He needed to stop thinking along these lines. He glanced up. The Prince glared at him. Era’s heart flipped, believing the Prince could hear his treacherous thoughts, but no, he had to get to the bottom of this. Of course it wasn’t about Era’s strange feelings. He needed to understand the psyche of his subjects. And either way, did he want to be a Shim or an Idia? A persistent Prince or a timid one?

He wasn’t a Prince to start with. So why had he made his way over to Shirin’s table?

“Your Highness?” Era said.

The Prince smirked but didn’t say anything. The silence hung over them, attendants looked at him from their spots beside the poles of the gazebo.

“What do you want?” Shirin asked.

What did he want?

“I wanted to thank you. I’m feeling better today.”

Shirin cocked his head and frowned. “What does that have to do with me?”

Era shivered like ice slid down his back. Blood rushed to his cheeks and suddenly he wanted to fall into the shadow of the moon.

“Right.” Era nodded, “enjoy your meal.” Shuffling back to his spot by the tree, tears pricked the corner of his eyes. What was going on with him? He felt like he was going falling apart, and all for what? Maybe he really was sick.

Era wanted to run away but he didn’t. Shirin smiled as Elora returned and Era forced down the emotions coiling in his stomach. He lowered his hood over his face and pretended to write in his book. He had inscribed an introduction for the prince and princess but not much more. His duties were piling on top of him along with his feelings. Tonight loomed the ball. He couldn’t miss the first dance of the lovers. In that moment he hated the beating of his heart in his ears. The way the scent of cinnamon had stayed in his nose.

Era took his break in isolation. Eating his tasteless sandwich, he stared at the half-blue, half-navy sky. In the Equinox the sky split where the sun and moon met. When he first moved here, he had thought it odd, but now it was as familiar as home. The scent of fresh cut grass swirled around him. He heard footsteps.

“What are you doing?” a deep voice asked.

Era looked up to see Shirin standing above him. Era frowned.

“What do you want?” Era said, surprising himself at the informality.

“Are you mad at me?” Shirin’s expression was as soft as his voice.

“I’m baffled.”

“Me too,” Shirin chuckled.

“Shouldn’t you be with Elora?”

“Shouldn’t you be with us? That’s your job.”

“I get breaks, my whole life doesn’t revolve around you.”

Shirin frowned. Era’s stomach twisted. Maybe he was mad; his whole body wasn’t making sense to him. His soul was a tempest. With a blush, he patted the grass next to him. Era hadn’t expected the Prince to listen, but he sat down only an inch or two away from him. In between them was hot like a mirage.

“We took a break until the ball tonight. I’m free for a little, my scribe.”

“It must be nice,” Era said.

“What?”

“Finding your soulmate,”

Shirin stayed quiet. Era took the chance to watch as Shirin’s hair fluttered in the wind. The rubies in his antlers clicked together.

“Do you know how odd it is to be told all your life that you have someone you’re meant for?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Era said. “I’ve never thought I was meant for anyone.”

“How do you feel now?” Shirin smiled. Era reddened and looked away. Shirin chuckled again.“I knew her name, little tidbits about her, but I was never excited. I thought it wasn’t fair that I didn’t get a choice in the matter, that somehow I was destined for someone.”

“I always thought it was romantic. That two people would always find each other no matter the distance between them. Nothing could get in their way.” Era frowned, “there would always be a happy ending.”

“Is this a happy ending, you think?” Shirin leaned forward and rested his head on his knee, his orange eyes burning Era.

“Did you know that it wasn’t always two royals that fell in love? Only a few generations after the first lovers, when records are still hard to find, there is a story between the Peasant Queen and Farmer King.” Era’s voice trembled slightly. He only shared a story, a part of his job, so why did his heart quiver?

“How does it go?” Shirin asked breathlessly.

“It wasn’t standardized back then, those who followed our religion would wander around collecting stories in the hopes of finding the one. This story is about a miracle. Cresca, a simple bar maid as beautiful as a crescent moon, met Solas, an ordinary farmer. He regularly visited her establishment and a sweet love blossomed between them.”

“How did they know they were the true lovers?” Shirin asked.

“Cresca moved to Solas’s farm and learned to tend to the crops. They cared for the land and when a harsh winter came only their lush field grew, and grew it did. So plentiful the land they tilled, that eventually they were recognized as lovers that brought prosperity.”

“So it wasn’t always this way.” Shirin leaned towards Era. “Then how do we know that it’s always going to be the royals?” His gaze heated Era’s soul.

Era didn’t answer. His chest tightened as excuses pressed against his lips, but none would come out.

“I see.”

The two fell silent as they stared up at the sky. The moon hung in its last quarter, and the sun stayed just out of sight. Guilt wavered in his heart, had he betrayed his religion, led the prince astray? But I didn’t lie. Trembling slightly, he traced his finger over the book on the grass..

“Are you cold?”

“I’m okay,” Era said.

Shirin wrapped his arm around Era and pulled him in close. Warmth seeped into him, Era would melt. None of this made sense and yet it felt inevitable. That’s how the stories went. But this was wrong. Elora was meant for Shirin, Era was supposed to watch from the sidelines. Looking at Shirin, seeing the angle of his jaw and his plump lips, heat rose in his body. Shirin stared at him and Era wanted to look away but didn’t.

Guilt disappeared, replaced by hunger.

Slowly, Shirin reached towards Era and pulled down his hood. Era’s hair fluttered across his face. Silver antlers shimmered in the moonlight.

“There you go, you shouldn’t hide your face.”

“I’m a priest,” he said.

“You’re too pretty to hide,” Shirin said.

In a daze, Era sat there quietly staring at his lips. He wanted to touch the Prince, to know his soul, mind, and body. Something had gone wrong, yet it felt like puzzle pieces falling into place. With hazy eyes, Shirin moved downward.

His lips pressed against Era’s, soft and magnetic. The pull deepened and the kiss intensified. Caressing the Prince’s cheek, their tongues danced together. The Prince’s berry kiss and cinnamon scent intoxicated Era. He didn’t know what he was doing. All he knew was that he wanted to go deeper.

Shirin laid him down. Era’s back pushed into the grass as the Prince pressed against him. Wrapping his arms around Shirin, he drew him closer. The Prince threaded his fingers in Era’s hair and pulled him into the kiss further, his breath hot. Era’s mind sizzled, his body moved by instinct, a need that went deeper than his heart. He ran his tongue over Shirin’s lips. Somehow this wasn’t close enough. He opened his eyes and saw Shirin’s burning gaze and knew he felt the same. Electricity ran through him. Excitement and –

He pushed Shirin away, his heart racing. He ran as Shirin called after him.

Era raced across the grass. The scent of wildflowers chased him until he made it inside a corridor. His footsteps echoed down the hall. Forcing himself to take a break, he pulled the book close to his heart. He took a deep breath and pretended his body wasn’t shaking. Turning the corner, he nearly slammed into someone.

Elora took a step back.

Era?” she said, “what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t speak. Guilt clawed up his throat.

“Are you feeling ill again?” she asked, concern softened her face. He hadn’t realized she had been paying any attention to him.

“Just a little lightheaded,” he said. The kiss lingered on his lips, sunk deep into his bones, and writhed in his core. He couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“Do you want me to call a doctor?” she asked with a gentle voice. He worked up the courage to look at her. She seemed genuine. Tears threatened to fall.

“Your majesty, don’t worry about me. Enjoy your free time.” He bowed and moved away from her.

“You shouldn’t pay more attention to Shirin than me, Era,” she said. Turning around, Era found her smiling. “Or your writing is going to be biased.” He couldn’t read her. Could she see the kiss like radiation gleaming on his lips?

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said and ran far away from the Lovers.

---

Era laid on the rug in his office with the tome on his chest. He loved and hated the thing now. Did it hold answers inside of it? Had other scribes secretly made out with one of the lovers?

He didn’t think so.

He put the book on his face.

Someone knocked on the door. Surely, it was time for someone to check if he was getting ready for the ball tonight. He didn’t want to see Shirin. He especially didn’t want to see him dancing with his soul mate… Had they gotten it wrong? Or was that just hopeful thinking on his part?

The door opened and he heard a familiar voice sigh. The book disappeared from his face. Calyse stared down at him with a frown, she seemed more concerned then angry though.

“You’ve been acting weird,” she said.

“Have I?” He looked away.

She glanced at the book and chuckled.

“Ah the tournament, your favorite.”

Era frowned

“Shall I read it to cheer you up?” She smiled and kneeled down on the rug with him.

“You know I have it memorized,” he said.

“You should tell it to me then.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t,” she said.

Era sighed and glanced at the book in her lap. She could just read it, and as a scholar of the eternal lovers she would know all the stories already. Still, reciting them gave him a sense of peace, something his fluttering heart desperately needed.

“Once there was a King who decided his destined lover was not his,” he said. “Instead of marrying the Princess of Light as the clergy had prescribed, he arranged for a tournament to be held. One that would test the mettle of every maiden in the kingdom. It tested artistry, wit, and strength. After many preliminaries, only ten women were up to the final test, all of them were royals except for one. A young Fall Eschen.”

“Come on, skip to the good part,” Calyse said. Era clicked his tongue.

“The Fall Eschen wasn’t particularly good at anything, not compared to the royals who had dedicated their lives to honing their crafts. But the King loved the way she saw the world. She was amazed at every little thing. Though she may have not been the best at anything, she put her heart into everything. Even if she wasn’t destined to be his lover, and even if she wasn’t a royal, he still chose her over everyone else.”

“You’re always most interested in the stories that differ from the norm,” Calyse said.

“Well aren’t the odd stories the most interesting?”

“I suppose so. Seems like this one is going to be another boring one.” She smiled.

Era coughed.

“So why are you laying on the floor? Being the official scribe not suiting you?”

“I really just want to be left alone, Calyse.”

“Just talk to me.” She pinched his nose. “I’ll listen.”

“Ow,” he said. Not knowing what would get him in trouble, he stayed quiet. He didn’t want to jeopardize his position as the Eternal Lovers scribe. To have Shirin taken away from him. Even if he couldn’t be with Shirin, he could at least stay by his side in another way…as long as he stayed silent.

“You’re in love with Shirin.”

“What?” he sat up.

“I know you. Just talk to me already.”

Era paused, unsure if he should incriminate himself further. His feelings boiled on the surface like milk about to bubble over.

“What if they aren’t always destined for each other?” he sputtered.

“The lovers?”

Era nodded.

“You don’t believe in the stories?” She raised her eyebrows.

“I do. Some of them,” Era said. “But maybe sometimes it doesn’t work out?”

“I think it does.”

His heart stopped with one painful thump and then continued on like a wounded puppy. He hadn’t known what he wanted to hear, but now he knew it was anything but this.

“The lovers always have a happy ending.”

“I know, but-” There were tears in his eyes.

“Listen to what I’m saying Era,” She grabbed his shoulders. “It’s always a happy ending.”

Elora and Shirin would be happy together. He’d be forgotten. A kiss bestowed on him by the whims of a prince.

He sobbed.

She flicked his forehead.

“I know I shouldn’t be crying-”

“Era, you should know by now how often the stories don’t go as expected.” She smiled. His robe for the ball flopped onto his lap. “It’s time to get ready.”

Even as a teardrop specked the robe, his heart raced.

---

The ballroom was a swirl of silver intermixed with gold. Opalescent walls were patterned with red leaves and pink blossoms and crossed by a gilded line. It matched the balconies that overlooked the room. Stained glass windows depicting the first lovers cast a rainbow over the dance floor.

His hood, embroidered with crescent moons, covered Era’s face as he watched Elora and Shirin dance. The Prince wore a black suit patterned with gold swirls that resembled flames. He moved smoothly across the floor like a petal caught in the wind. Happy no one could see his face, Era tucked the tome safely under his arm and obscured it with his robe. Shirin occasionally searched around the room. Era didn’t want to be found. Even though Shirin’s attention sometimes wandered, his gaze on Elora seemed passionate. Era’s stomach twisted.

Elora tripped and fell backwards. The room let out a gasp. People reached out to catch her, but all were far away. Shirin darted forward and caught her in a dip, their faces inches apart. A mischievous smile played on his lips. Everyone waited, wondering if they would dare to kiss.

Era went cold.

Trembling, he pulled out the tome and tried to write. This needed to be recorded. An important moment that brought the lovers together. His hand shook.

Era couldn’t do this.

Running out of the room, Era pushed his way through the distracted crowd and out onto a balcony. He didn’t find out if they kissed. He was bad at his job. He didn’t care.

Era started pacing, the book felt too heavy as he carried it. An urge to throw it off the edge and into the gardens below erupted in his mind. Everything he had dedicated his life to felt pointless now. No, it felt cruel. He had always been excited to watch a new story unfold, so much so that he had worked hard to become the official scribe despite how young he was. How ironic that he would come to hate the thing he loved.

“Era?”

Era stopped and glanced at Shirin. The Prince’s eyes were wide. Cold iced Era’s cheeks in two lines, he hadn’t realized he had been crying. His hair flew all around him, his hood blown off in the wind. Shirin reached a hand towards him.

Era slapped it away.

“Stop it.”

“What do you-”

“Stop messing with my head.” Era bared his teeth.

“I’m worried about you,” he murmured.

“Don’t be,” he said. “I’m not anything to you. Go be with her.”

“I don’t want to.” Shirin moved forward. Era backed up until he hit the railing. Shirin put hands on either side of Era, trapping him. Era’s heart did a treacherous dance.

“I don’t understand you.” Era trembled.

“What can’t you understand?”

“How can you be like that with her and then run after me?”

“I have to be like that with her,” he said, his eyes drooping.

“Exactly,” Era said. “So go away.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Shirin’s eyes desperately searched Era’s face.

Era frowned as he looked up at Shirin. He looked so pretty under the moon, his eyelashes catching the light.

“Not this,” Era whispered.

Shirin bent down and pressed his lips against Era’s. The soft and hesitant kiss scared Era, making his heart pound in his ears. He coiled his fingers in Shirin’s shirt. Maybe he could just never let go.

Voices burbled around the corner.

Era didn’t pull away, neither did Shirin. Tension sparked, electricity building in their hearts, uncontrolled, someone would get hurt. Era knew who it would be.

He pushed Shirin away and ran before the lightning struck.

---

Era lurked under his covers for as long as he could. Words were left half formed on the page. He was waiting for a knock on the door, a gentle touch, a betraying whisper. It didn’t happen.

Era moved to his desk and opened the tome, pausing on the first page and rereading the poem. The First Lovers saved the world by repairing a shattered sun and moon with their souls. Just like the sun’s pull on the moon, their souls found each other. There wasn’t much known about the First Lovers. The reason why the sun and moon shattered was left to forgotten history. To be honest, only this tradition kept that history alive. Some scholars argued against its validity…but Era knew the truth. Even though everything hurt, he still believed.

He turned to the newest page and tried to write about Elora and Shirin, but found the task impossible. If he couldn’t do the job, he’d be replaced. Maybe that was for the best.

Someone knocked on the door and his heart leapt and fell. If Shirin had come, he’d have to turn him away. What they were doing was dangerous. Era opened the door.

Elora stood in the hallway. Despite himself, his heart dropped.

“Would it be okay if I spoke to you?” she asked. Elora wore a simple white dress, her dark hair pulled back in a bun, radiant as always. His shoulders drooped.

“Of course.” He pulled out his desk chair and then sat on his bed. “What is it you need?”

She patted her dress and then folded her hands, her thumbs running up and down her fingers. “Is there a story where the lovers don’t…”

Era waited for her to finish, but she just looked at the rug like she needed to understand its pattern.

“Don’t what, your majesty?”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t love each other.”

Era nearly bit his tongue.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.” She raced for the door.

“Wait!” Era called. She stopped and looked back at him. “Many people think the lover’s journey is always simple, but that’s far from the truth.” He gestured for her to sit down. After a moment she listened. The candle flickered and made the room seem to shake.

“There are plenty of stories where a Prince and Princess find each other and live happily ever after,” he said and Elora’s face fell. “But there are just as many where they have difficulties, or…aren’t meant for each other.”

“Really?”

“I misspoke,” he said. “Well, perhaps not. The lovers always exist, but it’s not always the ones you expect who are meant for each other. Sometimes it’s two men who are meant to be together, or two women. A peasant marries a king. Lots of things happen. The priesthood acts like there isn’t any strife for the Lovers. That nothing gets in their way, but obviously that wouldn’t be the case.”

“So.” She rubbed her fingers together in circles. “It’s okay then.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I don’t love Shirin.”

Era shivered then felt hot. Elora stared at him like a bunny ready to run away from a wolf. Era tried to figure out what to say. As the scribe, perhaps he should encourage her that she would fall for him in time. But his heart wanted him to tell her that they weren’t meant for each other.

“It’s okay,” Era decided to say. “Whether you love him or not and whether you decide to marry him or not. In the end, I trust the stories. The story will end happily.”

“I see.” She looked off into the distance. “Thank you.”

He sat there in silence as she left, not knowing whether he had given advice as a scribe or as Era. Maybe both. Against his will, a flutter of hope blossomed in his chest.

---

The next day he put on a white robe with silver lining. Crescent moons hung off of his antlers. He let his hood fall further back so the edges of his white hair peaked out. Today Shirin and Elora would officiate their bond. A sort of marriage.

Era felt ill, yet he refused to hide from this. It wasn’t about his job. He had to see it with his own eyes. He had to let his dream die.

He arrived at the room early, the same place where he had first seen Shirin. The sunstone and moonstone shone on either side of the space. Slowly, other priests filled the room, and the air heated from all the bodies. He felt nauseous. Calyse smiled at him reassuringly but he couldn’t bring himself to respond.

The Queens came into the room followed by many attendants, but he barely looked at them. Then it was time. Elora walked in first. Wearing a black dress speckled with stars, her hair fell down her back with a crescent moon clipped at the top.

Then he walked in.

Golden stars adorned his antlers and caressed his forehead. He wore a brilliant red shirt with suns patterned around his collar. Era couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He could still taste the berry of his lips on his, the cinnamon scent dancing on his tongue.

The Lovers approached each other. The Luminary began her speech about how they were meant for one another. How their pairing would bring prosperity to the realm. A happy ending, one of the many inscribed in history. Era wasn’t happy. Era thought he was going to throw up.

The Luminary looked at him and he knew what he had to do. He needed to recite the poem again. He wanted to stand still, to keep the ceremony frozen, but Shirin stared at him. Intensity smoldered in Shirin’s gaze. Shirin’s eyes pulled Era in like the moon to the sun. He moved towards Shirin, not the Luminary. What if he just threw himself at Shirin? What if he confessed his love? Made a fool of himself. Destroyed his reputation?

How much did he care?

Era stopped before them. Shirin frowned and Elora looked nervous. No one seemed to be picking up on the air between them. Era realized that none of them wanted this. But who would be brave enough to stop it?

“Pale of moon, vibrant as light,” he said, his eyes boring into Shirin. His heart thumped like it was trying to break out of his ribcage. Say something. His voice betrayed his soul.“A caress of sun, a kiss of night.”

Elora and Shirin’s hands were so close to each other. When they grabbed each other’s hands it would be the end of it. He shut his eyes like a little kid.

He didn’t continue. His eyes opened. People shuffled around in confusion.

Say something. Please.

He opened his mouth unsure whether the poem or heresy would leave it. Elora stepped forward and grabbed Era’s hand. The room gasped.

“This is all wrong!” she cried.

Era blinked. The tome fell to the floor, left open to a blank page.

“Say something,” she said to Era. Shirin looked confused, almost betrayed. His eyes wandered across Shirin’s tan skin and up to his orange eyes. He remembered the magnetism of the Prince on that first day; the need that had sparked a fire in him, so hot it could burn the sun.

“I love Shirin,” he whispered.

Shirin’s eyes widened. Elora smiled and pulled Era over to Shirin. Smelling the soft scent of cinnamon, Era felt at home.

“What did you say?” Shirin asked. Era’s eyes were locked on Shirin’s like a moon nestled in the pull of its star.

“I love you,” Era said.

Era shivered, winter seemed to have taken over the court. He couldn’t read Shirin’s expression. Every breath hurt.

“I love you, Era,” Shirin said. “You’re the one…”

Shirin looked at Elora and frowned. “I’m so sorry.” He lowered his eyes.

Elora let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank the moon,” she said. Elora grabbed Era’s hand and then Shirin’s. She pressed the two men’s hands together and smiled.

“What a happy ending,” she said.

---

The ceremony had continued in a daze. The Luminary had officiated Shirin and Era without complaint. Era didn’t know if it was because she could sense that Shirin and Era were right for each other, or if Elora had such a command of the room that the Luminary didn’t realize what she had done until it was over.

Era would have to write about how important Elora was in Era and Shirin’s story. How strange that he would be writing an autobiography.

“What are you doing, my scribe?” Shirin asked.

“I’m writing about our love,” he said. “That’s my job after all.”

“Won’t they replace you? You’re in the story now.”

“I hope not,” Era said. “This is what I have dedicated my life to. What a great honor it is to be a part of it.”

Shirin smiled and pulled Era in close, gently kissing him on the forehead.

“It always ends happily, huh?”

Era smiled. It seemed it did.

THE END

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I hold this short story dear to my heart. I love making up romance stories in my head, often with characters that are reminiscent of one another. This story is a tribute to all the forgotten lovers that I dreamt up in my head.

If you liked this story you may like my other queer romance “The Bridge Where We Met”

Or my other romantasy short story called “A Tempting Melody”

Happy writing –

Aether