Page 8 of Semper

"Can I get you anything?" she asked in an almost ethereal voice.

My heart jumped at the sudden sound. I turned to find her poised with a graceful readiness to serve. The lessons from Nicolette and Esther flashed through my mind, reminding me to be polite.

"Just some water, please," I managed to say.

Her head bobbed once in understanding before she glided over to the fridge and filled a glass with ice and water. Her movements were smooth and practiced, almost ritualistic. For a brief moment, I found myself wondering about her story and what secrets may be hidden beneath her veil.

"Thank you," I murmured gratefully, taking the glass offered to me. A chilled, refreshing sensation flooded my mouthand throat as I drank, providing a small respite from the overwhelming thoughts swirling in my mind. Verity remained close, her unwavering presence an odd source of comfort. After a moment, I decided.

"I'm going to the library," I announced, hoping she would join me. Her companionship was something I craved at that moment, more than any assistance she could offer.

There was a fleeting pause in Verity's demeanor, betraying her surprise at my invitation. "If it pleases you, it will please me as well," she replied softly. With a smile, I beckoned for her to follow, and we made our way upstairs. We entered the library, and I was enveloped by its familiar grandeur.

My eyes immediately sought out the sacred Impío doctrine, its heavy tome beckoning to me with both intimidation and fascination. I unlocked its chains, recalling the location of the key that Esther had shown me what felt like a lifetime ago. Settling onto the plush sofa, I placed the photograph of Melanie and Clarice on the side table, a silent witness to my quest for understanding. As I gingerly opened the tome, its pages creaked with the weight of history and secrets.

Verity's presence was a quiet comfort as she took a seat adjacent to me. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

I noticed her gaze, veiled though it was, lingering on the photograph.

"I'm not sure," I admitted, my fingers tracing the ancient pages. "I'm looking for... answers. About everything," I gestured vaguely at the book and then at the photograph.

Honestly, this was a wild guess and a case of grasping at straws, but within these pages maybe was something that would help me. I started with the first passage that I was able to read. The Impío faith was a topic entirely woven through the lives of its followers like a binding thread. There were many roles and duties assigned, each with a clear place in the dark system ofcontrol. The Electi—like me—were at the center of it all, chosen women whose purpose ran deeper than I’d first realized. Further into the book, the passages grew more fragmented, as if certain parts were purposely concealed. Some of the text was written in another language.

There were ancient symbols and scripts that I couldn’t understand, but what I did make out chilled me. My attention was caught by the mention of something, or someone called aProgenitor. I read the section with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion, the concept feeling alien and unsettling.

The Progenitor—she who bears the sacred burden. A vessel, a mother, and the cradle of the future. Her role is to bring forth the next generation, bound to the will of the Impío Order. The Progenitor’s body is not her own but is dedicated to the continuance of the Isle bloodline.

I felt my stomach turn as the words sunk in, the implications becoming painfully clear. TheProgenitor—it was a term for Breeder, for someone chosen not for power or prestige but for their ability to give birth, to perpetuate the twisted legacy of this Isle.

The chosen Progenitors are sacred, yet their fate is sealed. They will birth the next generation of the faithful, bound to the darkness and the blood. There can be no defiance. The Progenitor exists only for this purpose.

I glanced at Verity; I could feel her eyes now watching me closely from beneath the lace veil. I could barely keep the disgust from my voice as I spoke, seeking confirmation. "TheProgenitor… it's just another name for Breeder?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "It’s... a position of honor."

Even she didn’t seem convinced by the hollow words she just spoke. “You will never know such a life. You are a true bride.”

She’d practically whispered that last part. I turned towards her, confused. "Sorry, what did you say?"

She hesitated, then repeated a bit louder, "You are the one and only true bride ofDiabolus. There will be no others and there has never been a first.” Now her words were a mix of reverence and conviction.

My eyes shifted to the photo on the side table. “What do you mean the true bride?”

She stood and added quickly, "I apologize, I should not have spoken out of turn," and hurried out of the room, leaving me alone to decipher her Isle talk.

I hadn’t meant to scare her away. The room immediately felt larger and emptier in her absence. I’d been spending my time all alone until Alexander returned in the evenings. I wasn’t used to such solitude. It had been worse all the days leading up to this one—there’d been no staff—just guards I spotted patrolling the property. Thanks to that the library had become my sanctuary of sorts.

I sighed and repeated Verity’s words.

“The one and only true bride of Diabolus..”

The picture beside me proved otherwise. I stayed in the library, losing myself in the doctrine, its pages filled with passages that were both fascinating and unnerving.

The more I read, the better I began to understand the Isle’s intricate hierarchy. Impío faith was another topic entirely. There were many roles and duties assigned to its followers. The back of the book provided fewer formal transcriptions—some in another language.

Ambrose's voice eventually broke through my concentration, pulling me away from the words on the page and back into the present. He suggested a light lunch and I readily agreed, grateful for the break. After satisfying my hunger and taking care of my personal hygiene, I returned to the library, eager to continue my reading. There were other positions in this twisted society, those who pledged themselves entirely to serve the hierarchy. Theirlives were governed by strict rituals, punishments, and devotion, constantly proving their worth to the men who held power.

The concept of obedience was a constant; it wasn’t just expected—it was law. Those who defied it were met with consequences I didn’t want to imagine based on their descriptions alone. When Ambrose returned for a second time, I realized the day had flown by without me even noticing.