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In the formerly known Dominicus solar system, on a small rocky planet, at the farthest reaches of the dying system, remains what is left of the Ninth House. The death of the Emperor no longer residing within the depths of the cold planet. The cold dark place that some had once called home is now barren of any life; even the bones do not stir. Where once two children had lived their entire lives with animosity for each other, had grown to be all they ever had, each other's everything. Running through the halls, catacombs, the church. Discovering secrets and making endless mistakes. The Ninth had housed many things, but now only housed ghosts of memories.
Since the day the final tombkeeper and her former cavalier had relocated those who still lived on the planet, everything remained untouched with nothing to disturb it. The Anastasian monument, deep within the catacombs, collapsed with neglect like much of everything else on the planet. The lifts that were already in a bad state of disrepair have fallen apart completely. Niches filled with once fresh bones will forever remain where they lie, never to be raised and used to service. Postulant cells empty of any and all belongings are left to collect dust. The cell of a former serf with an even thicker layer of dust having been abandoned long before. Sagging shelves once filled with books now remain empty in a library. Bioluminescent powders long since faded to nothing in the church filled with empty pews. A landing field with their footprints still left in the course dirt. The last two children of the Ninth left their former home and never looked back. Leaving only the generators to run their course until the end of their days.
In a different system, quietly tucked away on a planet to themselves, two women who refused eternity, sit in amicable silence. Their bones now old and their joints tired, they spend their days enjoying each other’s company in the home they’ve built together for themselves many years ago when it was still easy for them to do so. Now their bodies ache simply standing up.
Harrowhark closes her book and looks over to find Gideon asleep in her chair next to hers. It’s late for them, even with this planet's sun still high in the sky, it’s a sun that never sets–a stark contrast to their life as children on the Ninth. With great effort, she stands and takes a few steps over to her partner, her love, her friend. She tenderly runs her fingers through Gideons white hair in an attempt to gently coax her awake. Gideon still startles, just a little, with a small gasping breath and reflexive jolt. She finds her surroundings and then Harrowhark, giving her the same bright smile she always has once she meets Harrow's eyes. Only now there are deep set creases at the corners of her eyes when she does. It still warms Harrow to see that smile.
Both prepare to retire for the night. Gideon crawls in on her side of their shared bed and shortly after, Harrowhark joins her. After many years of sleeping next to each other, some might find it surprising that they still sleep in each other's arms at their age, but it is Harrow's place of comfort and Gideons serenity.
Harrowhark curls up against Gideons chest and Gideon lays a soft kiss on the crown of Harrow’s head, “Goodnight my Gloom Mistress.”
With a smile on her face and a fullness in her heart, Harrowhark shuts her eyes.
Moments later, after years of giving every last bit of life it had, the last generator on the Ninth gives its final breath.