She paused every few steps, taking in the sights of their ancestral home. In the hallway, she would lay out her dolls and hold shows as a child. In the storage room at the end of the hall, she would play hide and seek. The living room, a short distance from her bedroom, where she would spend time telling stories with her parents by the fire.
Her room no longer looked like the wall surrounding Ashkadance. Instead of the pain and disorder from the night before, the peach walls and sunlight through the window brought out her inner calm. She surveyed the room and picked up a small bag. She stuffed it quickly with a few basic clothing items and momentos. On her way out she opened up her jewelry box and picked up the small smooth stone she kept there. She tried not to think of what she was leaving behind in her quick packing.
This wouldn’t be her home anymore. The future she imagined for her life was no more. Her parents looked up from the kitchen and halted their whispered conversation as they heard her steps. She didn’t say goodbye, she knew her voice would not remain even if she did.
Hasley, heartbroken, walked out the door without a word. Who knew if their paths would ever cross again.
Hasley pulled a slip of paper from her bag and handed it to the neighborhood wraith as she passed.
Amlin won’t let me go to the ball. I’m sorry.
-Hasley
The lie came easier than she would like. Hasley knew she could not see Ember or anyone from the royal family this way, not when the Fateless were typically killed on sight.
Hasley turned left to Mount Pietan instead of the most direct route to her purpose. She walked silently up the steps she had run down just a few days before. Today, she didn’t care that it was past the morning mountain curfew. It wasn’t like she could attend to her purpose now anyway.
Find the docks, the voice said.
Hasley stopped walking. There were no docks, what could the voice mean?
Men and women walked into the entrances to the mine below her. Mount Pietan, while also the religious site of the First Fating, was where Ashkadance sourced their largest resource—peiradoone stone. Every structure in the kingdom was made from it. It was a mostly fire-proof substance.
That was more helpful in prior generations, when there were dragons. Minors worked within the mountain during her purpose hours. Visitors were only allowed up to the First Fating statue at dawn and dusk.
No one knew where the full-sized dragons were now, but Hasley was used to seeing some of their demi-breeds. The wraiths that delivered letters and the anchoris who worked to draw carriages long distances were both a type of dragon.
Reaching her destination, Hasley looked up at the statues of the first and only Dragon King, Drakul, and the first of a line of Dragon Queens, Karianna. She bent to her knees before them and prayed, not caring about the dirt and grass staining her knees.
“You shouldn’t be here!” the older woman said. Her long pink hair was now streaked more grey than pink, bringing out her sallow complexion. It was the same reaction she had told Ember the last time they were here. Hasley knew she would come.
“I know,” Hasley called out, “I need to speak with you.”
Whether it was the fact that Hasley had knelt on the ground or the general dismay on her face that convinced the priestess that she could stay—Hasley was unsure. The priestess motioned with an outstretched hand to the cluster of buildings off in the distance. They seemed older than other buildings in the province, their peiradoone stone more grey than white. Hasley stood and they walked beside each other in silence for several long minutes. Hasley glanced at the priestesses robes from the side of her eye. She wondered how often there were visitors to the priestesses.
“What brings you here?” she asked with a casual air. The priestesses all spoke in a level tone, almost monotonous. Other than when they were yelling at you about the mountain curfew, that is. It depended on Hasley’s mood on whether or not she believed they sounded wise or creepy.
“I need guidance,” Hasley said, turning her eyes back to the grass and her feet.
“Guidance on what?” The priestess prodded.
“I fear…” Hasley hesitated and they both stopped walking. They were a short distance from their destination.
“I fear that I am becoming fateless,” Hasley whispered. Her body shuddered at the word.
The woman wrapped an arm around Hasley’s shoulder with a tight smile and they resumed walking.
“You came to the right place.”
Five
A New Purpose
The inside of the compound was one surprise after the other. Despite having only seen the pink-haired priestess on the mountain, there seemed to be dozens of priestesses. Like all buildings in Ashkadance, this one was built out of peiradoone stone.
On the inside, there were dozens of shelves of books in many shapes and sizes. There were several doors and hallways visible from the main room, but Hasley was ushered into the second room to the right. The carpet beneath the room's long desk was a warm red. A stack of papers, pens, and other small items left haphazardly on one side, with the other half of the desk clean. It was as if whoever worked here gave up reorganizing half-way through the task. The priestess left Hasley alone for a moment in the small office before coming back in with a man also dressed in robes. What was he doing here? Hasley had thought only priestesses looked after the statue of the First Fating and the priests maintained the cathedral in Mutrien.
They bid her to share how she came to be there. After keeping her fears close to her chest for weeks, the details spilled easily from Hasley's mouth. She told them about the voice inside her, the change in her emotions and the outbursts, as well as the disturbances in her vision from the night before.
“You have a purpose, Hasley Fateless,” the pink priestess said. Her companion with black hair and pale skin nodded.
“Don’t call me that,” Hasley snapped. She shook in her seat, too cold in the room the priestess led her to. The bottom of the chair bit into her bare legs, the yellow dress too flimsy a covering.
She quieted, regretting her quick reaction. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. But please, don’t call me that. My purpose name is Jeweler.”
The priestess gave a sympathetic nod before speaking again.
“I’m sorry to say that it is not. Given what you have described to us, you are indeed one of the Fateless. Being fateless is your new path. We don’t have all the answers, but we have some for you.” She gestured to the man beside her.
“What kind of answers?” Hasley asked hopefully. “Do you know how to fix me?” Hasley looked between the two, needing a sliver of hope she could cling too.
“We can’t fix you, because you are not broken.”
Hasley disagreed and the silver lining she had hoped for withered as quickly as it bloomed.
“We have worked with many of the Fateless. Many stay here with us, others have joined the resistance, some we never see again. But there is one thing in common, those that have the voices are often the most lucid. They are asked to find people, to go places, or they have a task. We believe it is a mission from the gods.”
Hasley looked between the man and woman before her, wondering if she truly was mad or if they were.
“How do you know?”
“These voices have led to secret missions in the resistance, with Keyholders, and with Scribemaster. It has brought us closer to the goal of dismantling the wall. And those that listen to the voice and help them, seem to be more lucid or more like themselves after.”
Hasley was shocked to hear them speak so openly of going against the royal family. Shouldn’t the priestesses be loyal to the family chosen by their god and goddess? Being against the wall wasn’t a shock on it’s own. It was something often whispered between friends. Yet, talking openly about working to dismantle it? That made Hasley’s heart beat faster than it already was. Is this the group she would put her trust in? But Hasley would do much to feel normal again, to find her pair. Maybe even go against th
e family that now included her best friend.
“So after they complete their mission, the people with voices feel okay?” Hasley asked hopefully, latching on to feeling more normal.
“Fatelessness isn’t a disease, so there isn’t a cure. It is a byproduct of speaking to the gods. Only the beasts, or those that are part beast, like the Drakul line, can fully hear and interpret the message without as much harm to the mind. Prolonged communication, that might still impact them, but us humans feel the effect immediately,” said the man. He listed off each sentence as an irrefutable fact, tapping them off on the table.
“Well, that’s one interpretation,” the woman interjected, “Those labeled as part of the Fateless are not pairless. They simply cannot get to them because of the wall or another reason. Not all of the Fateless hear voices, so I find this most likely.” She nodded and patted the man’s hand before continuing, “there are likely Fateless in the other kingdoms, the pairs that should have met our people.”
“We agree to disagree,” he replied. “But in either case, we can’t learn more while the wall is in place.”
Hasley felt dejected. Her emotions changed rapidly with each small piece of information. The fact that none of it may be true added to her despair. Hasley realized they were all playing a dangerous guessing game. How could any of these theories be tested? Would she ever be normal again? Tears welled in her eyes.
“Maybe I’m cursed,” Hasley whispered, “I was never good enough. Not worthy. A horrible and jealous friend with simple aspirations and no genuine contribution to the world. The gods want to be rid of me.”
“No, no, Hasley,” the woman said. “You are not cursed. None of the Fateless are, no matter what some people say. Aaleia and Mutrien are helping us, we just don’t see how yet. Nothing you have done or didn’t do made you deserve this. For all we know, the answer to it all lies in you, Hasley.”
She walked out from behind the desk and leaned beside Hasley’s chair.
“Trust this was for a reason, something happening for you and not to you. When this is over, Hasley, you’ll be able to tell us what that reason was. For now, would you like a place to stay while you decide what to do?”
Hasley nodded mutely as the tears rolled down her face.
“Good, you are welcome with us,” the priestess said, “until you find out what you would like to do. Whether that be wait, or take action.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes, realizing something.
“I didn’t introduce myself. I apologize. I am Flair,” the pink-haired woman said, “and this is my pair, Boyrn. We run this compound together.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Hasley said with a tremor, “thank you for taking me in.”
“You aren’t alone, Hasley. We have other Fateless here who have taken refuge with us. Many have felt the called to come here, near the First Fating,” Boyrn said. He stood and together he and Flair showed Hasley where she would be sleeping.
Six
Hidden Missions
Hasley hadn’t spoken to her family in over a week. She hoped her mother and father were okay, letting herself linger on them more than she had the past few days. At least, Hasley reasoned, this may be easier for them. With her disappearance, they wouldn’t have to choose whether or not to turn her in. That guilt would be a lot to bear, Hasley reasoned. Hopefully, not knowing was easier.
The voice’s tone was no longer as harried or fearful. It seemed to calm while living on the top of Mount Pietan, and for a while, Hasley avoided making a decision. Which, in essence, was a choice to stay and feel the calm a little while longer. She’d wake up and say “not today” to anything the voice requested and would sleep away as much of the day as she could.
There weren't any more blurred and shattered visions. Her eyes unwaveringly displayed what was before her. For now, the forest did not forcibly replace her sight.
Tonight felt different. The voice murmured to her listen, listen, listen, and she felt that was a harmless enough request.
Hasley sat cross-legged on her cot, watching the other occupants of the hidden living quarters.
She surveyed the state of all the Fateless the priest and priestesses have taken in. What were their stories? Did they try to take the burden from their family too? Or were they abandoned and found their way here?
The room held lines of cots full of people just like her. The majority of the people there were near Hasley’s age or slightly older. Some were sitting, like Hasley, or reading and writing. Others stared blankly up at the ceiling. A few in the bunch were strapped to their bed and thrashing, Hasley tried not to look at them for too long. Those thrashing Fateless laid bunched together towards one end of the room, isolated from the rest. It hurt to know that she could become like them. Priestesses moved between those that could not help themselves, providing water and food.
“Here he is,” Flair said.
Hasley turned to the voice. Flair and Boyrn were leading an older man into the room. One of the men on a cot nearby stood. Hasley was close enough to hear their voices among the crowd.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amic Keyholder, I am James,” the fateless man said and shook the stranger’s hand.
“A pleasure. I hear you have a message for me,” Amic replied.
A keyholder? Wouldn’t it be dangerous to have someone that ran one of Ashkadance’s provinces, and likely knew the royal family, here? What would Ember think if she found out Hasley was here?
Go to him, the voice whispered. Hasley felt a warmness spread in her chest in response. She stood without thought and walked to where they spoke.
“And I’m Hasley,” she said and inserted herself to the conversation. She looked in Amic’s brown eyes and felt something snap into place in her reality. Follow him. He needs you.
Unbidden, she said, “I’ll be leaving with you.”
A second later she came back to reality, embarrassed to have spoken out of turn to someone she didn’t know. This was not how things were done.
“Oh really?” He said with a quirked eyebrow.
“Hasley receives messages as well,” Boyrn interjected.
James looked to her and Amic. “Looks like you are a popular Keyholder,” he said.
“There is plenty of me to go around,” Amic joked. “Let’s start by going somewhere more private.”
Boyn led them back to the office Hasley was in the week before. Once inside, they walked through a back door she hadn’t noticed before. Inside appeared to be a scribe shop. There are books everywhere, like a library and their outer halls, but with stations open with empty pages ready to be transcribed. One woman was steadily at work, but at the nod of Boyrn she existed from the door they walked through.
“You won’t be overheard in here," Boyrn assured them and exited.
The thick door closed behind him with a resounding thud.
Amic sat in one of the chairs along the long center table. He gestured to the opposite chairs and Hasley and James sat down, wryly glancing at each other.
“Mind if I go first?” James asked Hasley. She nodded at him, not sure at all what she’ll say next. She asked the voice in her mind why she was here, but it didn’t answer.
“I saw you in my dreams,” the boy began, “you were underground, with barrels engulfed in flame. When I woke up…” he hesitated.
“Yes, James?” Amic prodded, wrapped in what he was saying.
“That’s when the voice started speaking to me. It said I needed to find you.”
“Did it call me by name specifically?”
“Yes,” James said.
Hasley felt jealous for a moment. Why was the voice so clear with him? Maybe she was the regular old fateless, someone going mad, while this boy got the real messages from the gods?
“Did you see what happened after the barrels caught fire?” His eyes were intent on James, focused.
“No, I only saw you in the room as it was filled with smoke.”
“Why does the voice want you to find me?
”
“I don’t know, but I assume it’s because I do well with special compounds. If it can be combined to make something or is flammable, I have a knack for studying and caring for it. It’s gotten me in a lot of trouble at times. But if you are doing something with fire, maybe I can help for once.”
Amic studied the boy, searching his face for something unknown to them before he nodded.
“Alright, want to come with me to Borderain to see what I’m working on?”
“Yes, very much so, Amic Keyholder,” James sighed in relief, as if his job were half done.
“You’ve got it. We leave in the morning.”
He shifted his searching gaze to Hasley, “now why do you want to come with me?”
Amic folded his hands together on the table.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “I… don’t have a very clear voice. Maybe I’m just broken,” Hasley said with a wet laugh.
Amic shook his head in disagreement.
“Just because you don’t know why you are here, doesn’t mean you weren’t meant to be here.”
He stood and walked around the perimeter of the room, idly trailing a finger along the spines of books.
“What were you doing before you found yourself here, Hasley?” He asked as his finger grazed the spines of the books he passed, seemingly more curious of his surroundings than her. The blue of his shirt stood out brightly in the room, probably just as much as her own blue hair did wherever she went.
“I was a jeweler,” she said. At least, she was an official jeweler for one day. She’d keep that detail to herself.
He turned his head slightly, but continued to walk around the room as if their conversation was more casual than it really was. “Did you know Amlin Jeweler?”
“I worked for him,” Hasley whispered, guessing where his thoughts were leaning towards.
Amic paused, his hand gripping the book his finger happened to be on. “You knew the princess,” he said.
Royalty Fantasy Boxset: Ember Dragon Daughter & Hasley Fateless (Fated Tales Series 1 & 1.5) (The Fated Tales Series: YA Royalty Fantasy) Page 29
