“Wait, what’s this whole deal about a Cult?” Inej asked, looking between Alina and Kaz with worry, “I haven’t heard anything about that in our letters so far.”
“The Darkling has a new following,” Alina frowned, “They call themselves 'The Cult of the Starless Saint' or something to that effect. And they've made it quite apparent that they aren’t overly fond of me.”
“To think, tracking Darkle Sparkles down and driving a sword through his unbeating heart wasn’t enough to get him out of our lives,” Jesper groaned. “Why couldn’t they just let him rot? Or at least, why give the likes of him such a damned cool Cult name?”
“If it helps, you’d have a fairly cool Cult name too, I think,” Matthias mused, “Like the Cult of the Whispered Bullet or something like that.”
“Aww, and this is why you’re the sweetest, Matty,” Jesper kissed his cheek. “But regrettably you’re also horribly wrong. My Cult is and always has been known as ‘those five dorks who follow me around and swoon at my every word’. You can even ask Rottie, I’m not making this up.”
“As one of those ‘dorks’, I’d like to formally request to never be referred to as that,” Kaz muttered.