The Fate: Book 1: Tournament Wysteria

by Ko, John

  “Wonderful.”

  Wake doesn’t ask him the everyday ones, those he has no answer for.

  Every so often, someone offers to take their turn at pulling the handcart, but Monster assures them that he’s fine. It weighs nothing at all. In some way it reminds him …

  He left the Sanctuary with nothing, and now, he has everything. The journey to the capital for the Grand Finale is underway, and he travels the road surrounded by friends.

  They pass peddlers with packs as tall as they are, merchant trains—dozens of wagons deep, and families on foot with little ones riding on shoulders or gently wrapped and strapped onto their mothers’ backs. And though they haven’t come across any herds so far, the road is littered with hoof prints and other less pleasant signs of their recent passing.

  Overall the people are friendly, but more often than not, the other travelers give the party a wide-berth once they spot the Half-Orc. They whisper too, but he is used to that.

  As the day goes on, the road grows only more and more crowded, a sure sign they are nearing their destination. And then they finally see it, shining in the distance even as evening creeps up upon them is Saranghae, the largest and most beautiful city in the Three Kingdoms.

  Saranghae is all a capital should be, a gleaming city of pale stone and intricate bronze workmanship. Towers, gilded with birds and flowers, and rooftop gardens dart the skyline to no end. Below, an army of custodians keep the roads of white sand paved with translucent stones sparkling in the morning light.

  “I used to do that,” the Fate tells his teammates, never leaving Monster’s shadow. Even on the most crowded of streets, the people move over to the other side of the road for the Half-Orc.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was Head of the South Main Sweepers. I served every summer since I was old enough to. The southern roads were never so spotless.”

  If Monster didn’t know the Captain any better, he’d have to wonder if the fool boy was making up these stories as he went along. But the nonsense that comes out of his mouth is just too farfetched to imagine. South Main Sweepers, indeed.

  “Welcome to Saranghae, where Love is King! Welcome one and all …” someone shouts in the distance, reminding Monster that ever since the Bae, Silla and Gorgury were brought together under the flag of Wysteria, a Love has always sat on the throne.

  Only Fate and Esperanza have visited the capital before. For the rest of them, it’s a wondrous sight, familiar and exotic at the same time. They walk wide-eyed through its pristine streets, gawking at this and that.

  The Half-Orc takes a moment to admire a particularly tall spire capped in crystal that reflects all the colors of the rainbow on to a building nearby. The Fate follows closely behind, stopping when he does and hurrying after when he moves onto the next sight.

  The crowds begin to recede as they venture further in. Once the roads are clear enough to walk about without fear of being jostled, the Fate frees himself of the Half-Orc’s shadow and begins to stroll happily along.

  “Right or left?” their Fate asks, strutting ahead, elbows held high.

  Wake looks at the map, trying to figure out how to get to the building marked by Sense. Their strategist went on ahead with most of their belongings the day before. “Right, keep an eye out for a statue that looks like a lion with long legs. It should be fairly large.”

  At the end of the block, the Fate shouts back that he’s found it. It’s not far from there that they find their home for the next couple weeks: the Seven Corner’s Inn.

  “Daebak, Sense!” Riser exclaims, checking the building out from top to bottom. Large glass windows cover every side and flowers every shade of sunrise line the entranceway.

  A short, wide man greets them with a deep bow. “Welcome to the Seven Corners. I am Arniolio, but you may call me Arni. I am the proprietor of this humble establishment. Team Fate, I presume?”

  They nod cheerfully.

  “I hope your journey has been pleasant. The young master has reserved our very best rooms, and it would be an honor to personally show you our many amenities. But, first, I have very exciting news—a courier is here.

  “It is an honor to have such important guests,” he says, clapping his hands in delight. “A Royal Courier awaits you, right here in my very own lobby.”

  Chapter 43

  WAKE

  [Seven Corners Inn, Saranghae]

  “Woodman?” the Fate asks the courier who awaits them in the foyer. The young man, decked head to toe in royal violet, bows with a flourish. “Fate, Esperanza, it is good to see you again.”

  “Greetings, Gerald,” Riser says almost nicely.

  “Why do you wear purple?” the Fate asks, looking him up and down.

  “As dense as ever, I see,” the courier says with a laugh. “I’ve been accepted into Our Majesty’s service. I have the honor of being a Royal Courier now and …”

  “What about the Wood?” the Fate asks him as if the answer means everything.

  “And, I am apprenticing under Estavon, Master Dendron of the Royal House.”

  The Fate stares at the courier questioningly.

  “Dendron can be translated as master of the wood,” the courier explains.

  “Good for you,” the Fate says.

  “Thank you,” the courier answers, rolling his eyes. “As much as I’d like to catch up, I’m actually here on a rather urgent matter.

  “Greetings to all of you Team Fate, especially you, Wake Avenoy. I have a top priority summons requesting your immediate presence at the Palace.”

  Wake doesn’t know what to say. His sister assures him, “They must need your appraisal skills, or maybe they want you to write an article. Either way, do your best, Wake!”

  That makes a little sense, but not much. There are plenty of other higher-level appraisers in the capital. Wake looks to his friends for any additional guidance, but belching is the only advice he gets.

  As he follows the messenger out of the inn, his mind races with possibilities—all of them quite frightening.

  Wake has seen pictures of it all of his life, but nothing that’s prepared him for the sight of it, the Royal Palace. In a city of wonder, it is the most wonderful. Before him stretches palatial walls, bricked in ivory, with vines of the very same color, carefully grown to paint scenes that make him feel insignificant and proud all at once. That one must be Lady Seo and the marks of her invisible dragon.

  The courier leads them through an inconspicuous side entrance. Who from the Palace could possible want to see me? And why? He said it was urgent. And how do Fate and Esperanza know this courier? There is something familiar about him …

  The courier leads him past the wall and into the gardens, a menagerie of sculpted hedges that frolic amongst amethyst blossoms. The scent of lilacs, violets, and lavender dizzies his head and for a moment all worries are forgotten. At least until they come upon a long building grown from the very same vines that painted scenes on the castle walls.

  “It’s a great honor, you know?” the courier says as he pulls out an ornate key.

  “More than I deserve. Do you perhaps know who called me here, or why?”

  “That is not for me to say,” the courier tells him, unlocking the door. “And that’s also not what I meant. The honor is in entering this building. There are only a handful of people outside of the Royal Family who have ever entered the House of White Vine.”

  “Oh.”

  “Even though it is in the gardens, the House of White Vine is under the authority of the Master Dendron—a fact that the Master of the Gardens has always been sore about. But it was Filus the third Dendron, who first introduced the White Vine to the Palace Grounds. You need a key for the Gardens from one Master and a second from the other to even step foot into this building.”

  Wake tries to pay attention, but it’s not as interesting as the courier makes it sound. How can someone talk so excitedly about vines and gardens? Fate called him Woodman. Esperanza called him Gerald
…

  And then it hits him. “You’re Gerald Evergreen, captain of the top team from two years ago.”

  “The one and only,” Gerald says with a bow.

  “It’s really an honor to meet you. That match in the semifinals, the one in Culmore was one of the greatest of all time!”

  “I’m glad to see I am not all but forgotten.” The courier opens the door wide and leads him into a long hall carpeted in lush green. “I have to ask you to remove your shoes before we proceed any farther. I recommend removing your socks as well.”

  Gerald takes off his own boots and places them in one of the small cubbies lining the hall. Wake follows suit. When his bare feet touch the ground, his toes sink into the thick plush green. The sensation is quite pleasant. Upon closer inspection, he realizes that it is not carpet at all, but moss.

  “So how do you know Fate and Esperanza?”

  “I know them from school. I used to beat Fate up every day. That boy is as hopeless a Crier as I have ever seen.”

  “School? Do you mean Criers College?” What were they doing there?

  Gerald nods and goes on. “Yes, is there any other school worth mentioning? I haven’t seen either in quite a while, but some things never change. That boy is as backwards as ever.”

  “He’s a good Captain,” Wake says.

  “If you say so.” The courier stops to inspect a stray vine climbing the wall. “Look, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you guys are trying to do. You’re going for the Triple Threat Feat. Am I correct?”

  Wake gives a shrugging nod. How does he know?

  “If someone with no stake in the outcome such as myself was able to figure it out … Well, you’d be a fool to think she hasn’t.

  “Let me give you a piece of advice. Things aren’t that easy. The Fate you see, he’s a dreamer. He has nothing to lose, but you … you seem a more practical sort. You may even be able to get an appointment here at the Palace. Take what she has to offer, get into school, make a decent life for yourself.” They come to a stop before a set of colossal doors.

  “Did you know that every year there is only one top team? But gaining a position in the Royal Palace is even more rare than that. Many a year goes by where they do not appoint anyone new. It was easier for me to captain the top team of my year than to get here. Do you understand?”

  “But my friends …”

  “Friends are one thing. The rest of your life is another.” Gerald Evergreen inclines his head to the large double doors. “She’s waiting for you in there.”

  “Thank you … I think.”

  “Just my opinion; take it as you will. He’s a dreamer, but people like you and I … well, we know that’s just not how the world works. In the end, he’ll be left with nothing but those dreams, broken and alone. Like I said, he used to challenge me every day. And every day I had to put him in his place.”

  What exactly is going on here? I was actually beginning to believe we could do this, but … No, what he’s saying just isn’t right. I believe in the Captain. “One question. The last time you fought Fate, who won?”

  Gerald throws back his head and laughs. “You got me there … he did.”

  The only light comes from the pale of the moon. In the near darkness, flowers blush like soft stars and though he’s inside, it’s as if he’s walking across the night sky. The main chamber of the House of the White Vine is as magnificent of a place as Wake’s ever seen.

  And none of it compares to she who sits in the middle of it, Princess Achylsa Love.

  Ever since that fateful day he walked through that two-toned door, he imagined what he would say if given a second chance to talk to the Doll Princess. He bows with less grace than he imagined, but she has the grace enough for the both of them.

  “Wake Avenoy of Ice Ridge at your service, Your Highness.”

  He keeps his head lowered until she responds with the proper words. “Please rise, Wake Avenoy.” Her voice is calm, stoic. His head is a storm, his heart the center, calm with one satisfying thought: she knows my name.

  “Welcome, and thank you for answering my call.” She looks at him almost shyly. “I summoned you here for two reasons, first of which is this.” She holds forth a pair of iridescent gauntlets seemingly carved out of pearl. They are the finest, most delicate of their type he’s ever seen. “It is the only pair of Hand of Mists known to be in existence, very similar to your own, if I understand correctly.”

  She nods for him to take them. The exquisite gauntlets look more a piece of art than a piece of equipment, though their luster pales in comparison to the hand that holds them.

  “Apparently, your Hand of Water is the original, but was considered a failure. This is the second attempt. Unfortunately, these too were considered inadequate, leading to the creation of the final version, the Hand of Ice.” She points to one of the Hands of Mist. “The left one has been in my family for generations. It was long ago converted from Blue to Violet to match the predilection for Violet that runs in my family. After many years of searching, we have just recently found its match. But there seems to be something amiss.”

  “The craftsmanship is extraordinary. I’ve never seen such fine detail,” Wake says, his nervousness replaced by awe as he inspects the Hands of Mist with great care.

  “May I?” he asks. The Princess nods acquiescence. The gauntlets are much too small, but he manages a partial fit. Right away, he notices one’s lack to respond. “Something is definitely not right.”

  “Yes, I was hoping that you could rectify the matter.”

  “I’m not sure where to even begin with something like this. A failure to respond in this manner often means one thing, that the equipment is dead. I need more testing to say with absolute certainty.” He turns over the dead gauntlet and looks for any signs of what may be causing the problem. But he cannot detect any flaws whatsoever.

  “If you are so inclined, I could loan it to you.” She stands from the stone bench and draws closer.

  “I am sure you could get the faulty one to function properly. They may just possibly be the most valuable pieces in the Royal Armory. If you’d like, you could even keep one for yourself. We would have a matching pair,” she offers, watching him closely. “That is, if you were a member of The Royal Team.”

  So that’s what this is really about, he thinks as she continues. “It is not too late. If you join The Royal Team now, I can assure your and Rachel’s acceptance into Criers College. Perhaps even the others …”

  Why me? Does she think of me as the weak link that will betray my friends? “If that’s what you asked me here for, I’m sorry, Princess …”

  “Wake Avenoy, I do not think that you understand,” she says. “This isn’t just for me that I ask. It’s for the good of the people: not just Wysteria, but the whole world.”

  You don’t understand. I’d do it just for you, he wants to say. But … “I can’t betray my friends.”

  “Maybe there is some other way I can help,” Wake asks. Her expression is like a painting. It never changes. No, that’s not quite it, either. She has no expression. Even without one, he can tell this is all quite difficult for her.

  “I have to be the one that leads the winningest team in this year’s Grand Finale,” she says softly. Even her voice is a caress to his ears. But it’s her awkward manner that makes his heart break beat. She’s as nervous as I am, he realizes.

  She wants to lead the top team and the Fate wants to captain it. There’s really no compromise. “Princess, I am sorry. Truly, I am. But I cannot betray my friends. Perhaps it’s better that I leave now.”

  She looks at him for the longest time and finally gives the slightest of nods. And just like that, their meeting comes to an end.

  He doesn’t want it to, though. Enough that he promises the impossible for a moment more. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll find a way to help you.” Why did I say that? Next time I’m just going to burp loudly instead.

  It’s all enough to make him screa
m. A passing gentleman gives him a questioning look. For once Wake doesn’t care. Could what she said somehow be true? He wants to believe her, but he wants to believe him, too. Fate is so hard to understand sometimes, but he’s been right when it matters.

  He almost walks straight past the Seven Corners Inn. Thankfully, its owner waves him down.

  “Young Master!” the innkeeper calls out. “I hope all went well with your visit to the Palace.”

  “Yes … yes, sir, it did,” Wake assures the innkeeper as well as himself. “Everything went well.”

  “It pleases me to hear that.” The old man smiles at him curiously. “If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will escort you to the courtyard where your friends are currently resting from your long journey.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It is my pleasure, especially for such an important guest.” The innkeeper gestures for him to follow. “It is not just for the royal summons that I say that. I have served many guests and seen even more. I was born in this inn and spent all my life under this one roof and I know when I see something special. And there is something special about you and your friends.”

  Wake manages a smile, even though he imagines that the innkeeper must say that to all of his guests. “I don’t know about that, but I can tell you this is the finest inn I have ever stayed at.”

  The innkeeper smiles proudly at that. “I have a feeling someday I may brag that a member of Team Fate blessed this establishment with such kind words.” The round, little man gestures towards the coming bend in the hall. “The courtyard is at your disposal for the remainder of your stay. It is of modest size, but I hope adequate for your training sessions. Young Sense has already paid, in full,” he adds happily.

  If Sense picked this place out, it must be well within their budget; nothing for him to worry about. With his eyes lowered, he can’t help but notice the various colored lines painted along the floor. The innkeeper notices, as well. “Those are done by a Sharded Brush. My late mother, rest her soul, began losing her sight near the end. She could manage without these lines to guide her about, but I added them to make things a little easier. They begin at the main entrance. The green leads to the courtyard, the red to the dining area, and the blue to the hall in which your rooms are.” Leave it to Sense to find the perfect place for us to stay. The thought of his friend going out of his way to make things easier on his sister makes him feel a better.