Chapter 4: The Sins of Our Forefathers, The Sin of the Bookkeeper

  As Moore left the confession booth, his words echoed in my mind, ripping open a wound I’d tried to ignore for years. The burden of my role as Bookkeeper, the Marquette legacy—it all felt hollow now. I thought back on King Tomo’s so-called “gift” to my family. A “great honor” to be the keepers of the Fallen Guide, but in truth, he’d shackled us, condemning us to a life of silent servitude, hidden behind a name that erased our individuality. No Marquette had a first name—only the title, “Marquette,” as if we were nothing more than tools.

  I pulled out the Fallen Guide, summoning a faint light spell to read by, and opened it to the section detailing my family’s responsibilities. Words on the page chronicled our duty as record-keepers for all of history—every action, every word taken by the kingdom, good, bad, or indifferent. All of it was to be cataloged and preserved by the Marquette family, under the watchful eye of the kingdom. The only member of the family who was allowed to see my every move was the one who guarded me—Morbius.

  The passage had been etched into my memory since childhood:

  “The Marquette family shall keep the Book, recording all actions in the interest of the kingdom. They shall be stripped of identity, known only as ‘Marquette,’ and treated as poorly as every other Fallen family. Their sworn protector, Morbius, is tasked to ensure that the Keeper fulfills his duty without fail. For this, Morbius shall be gifted with the curse of fate, his form forever altered, so that he may watch over each Marquette for eternity.”

  I finished reading, a tear slipping from my eye. To the kingdom, we were “honored.” But to us, the honor was little more than a cage. How could one live without a name, a face, an identity? How could I raise children, knowing they would bear the same fate?

  I swallowed hard, willing myself to regain composure, and tucked the book back inside my coat as the light spell faded. I stepped out of the confession booth, only to find Justus waiting for me, his expression unreadable.

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  “What are you doing here, Marquette?” Justus asked. “You don’t usually come to the cathedral—let alone the confession booth.”

  I forced a chuckle, hoping to deflect his suspicion. “Even I have sins to confess. Thought I’d try speaking to someone who wouldn’t judge me for a change.”

  Justus frowned, then moved in close, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. “Don’t play coy with me. I am the greatest spy in the Fallen, Marquette—I know exactly who you met with in the booth, and what treasonous words were spoken. Don’t think this will go unpunished.”

  Frustration welled in me. I could feel his accusation searing into my skin like a brand, but I forced myself to keep my voice steady. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Justus. I came to confess, like any other citizen.”

  Fury flashed across his face, and he raised a hand to strike me, but before his fist could connect, Morbius’s hand shot out, grabbing his arm.

  “Enough, Lord Justus,” Morbius said, his tone as cold as winter steel. “Is it not beneath the head of the clergy to strike someone with a greater status than yourself?”

  Justus glared at Morbius, wrenching his arm free. “Both of you will pay for this treason. Meeting with an enemy who seeks to destroy the Fallen? Have you both lost your minds?”

  Without missing a beat, Morbius replied, his gaze unyielding. “Do you really think I, of all people, would allow Lord Marquette to jeopardize the Fallen? You know nothing of the duties and roles that each of us plays if you believe that.”

  I stood in silence, keenly aware of the truth in his words. Morbius wasn’t just my protector; he was the enforcer of the oath that bound us all. He was the one who had killed twenty-two Bookkeepers before me, each one who’d dared stray from the path laid out by the Fallen Guide. I was just the latest to wear the title “Marquette.” Nothing more.

  As Morbius spoke, I fixed my collar, which had been crumpled in Justus’s grip. He straightened, addressing me. “My Lord Marquette, I believe it’s time for us to take our leave. You have other appointments to keep.”

  I nodded, casting a final look at Justus, who was still simmering with rage. As we walked toward the door, his voice rang out behind us, venomous and accusing.

  “Everyone will know of your treasonous act in two days’ time, at the council meeting. You can be sure of that.”

  Morbius let out a low, cold chuckle, meeting Justus’s gaze with unshakeable confidence. “So be it. We’ll see you at the meeting.”

  We left the cathedral in silence, Justus’s shouts echoing faintly behind us as the grand doors closed. As the sounds faded, I could feel the weight of my family’s duty bearing down on me, heavier than ever.

  But a thought lingered, like a spark refusing to be extinguished. Moore’s words had stirred something in me—a defiance that might have been my own, or perhaps the ghosts of all the Marquettes before me.