by Isu Yin
Instead of Hero, there sat a white-haired woman wearing light armor. Her still-young face lightened as Fate awakened. “You are back.”
Fate said nothing in response. She couldn’t. The details of the fight played out in her head and she recalled Mortis stabbing her brother. All she mustered was Abyssus’ name in her attempt to question the woman.
“I am so sorry.”
Fate rested her head down, lost in a maze of muddled thoughts and memories. None of her warnings had ever reached him, and now it was too late to return, to make things right. She clenched the sheets and swallowed hard.
“I wanted to thank you for saving Hero,” the woman said.
“Saving?” Anger boiled and her cheeks burned. She sat up, swaying as the room closed in around her. Her voice dropped and strained. “My brother died trying to save him. I should have let him die. His presence in this world mars all that is good and pure!”
Tears flooded her eyes and poured down her face, causing an ache so tremendous she hunched over in a struggle to breathe.
The white-haired woman gently put a hand on her back. “Your heart is pure. Though you do not wish to hear it, I thank you for your kindness. Hero is all I have left of my sister. I could not bear to lose him too. I do not come here to ask your forgiveness. I am afraid I can do no more than offer my services in your time of need. Do not lose your light. It is a wonderful gift.”
Fate pressed her face against the covers, burying her tears.
The white-haired woman left her and visited Hero at another bed.
As soon as Fate realized he was there, she forced herself upright. A curtain stood between her and him, but she could hear the conversation.
The white-haired woman spoke first. “Are you awake?”
“I wish I wasn’t,” he said.
“What were you thinking? He could have killed you! What were you doing in Macellarius?”
Hero didn’t respond, so she continued scolding him.
“You have no idea what it felt like to be so far away, and have to hear this kind of news! I cannot do this again. You two are going to be the end of me!” The woman exhaled. “I am so sorry, Hero. I am sorry that this is happening to you again. I am even sorrier that this has happened to Abyssus and his loved ones.”
He finally muttered a response. “Sorry.”
Sorry wasn’t enough. Fate stormed out of her resting area and threw open the curtain by Hero’s bed.
He’d sustained more damage than before—a cut across his lip, a blood stain on his shirt, and an IV attached to his arm for unknown purposes.
The white-haired woman began to stand and draw her weapon, but Hero intervened. “Chi, sit.”
His eyes glowed in the light, as though providing a reflection of muddled emotions that Fate could neither read nor cared to know.
She lashed out at him, powerless to control the paroxysm of fury and remorse. “If you had just died!” The tears came again, with a throbbing pain in her throat. She cupped her hands around her face. “If only I had let you die.”
Hero lay blinking, his expression devoid of emotion. “If I had jumped, maybe he’d still be alive.”
The white-haired woman, Chi, stood from her chair. “Enough! You both need rest. When you are ready, we should all talk and sort out the details. For now, I urge you to take some time down.”
Fate had wanted to say more, to express all her emotions before leaving Hero alone to rest, but she didn’t get that chance.
At that moment, Fortuna and Nigel had arrived to collect her from the palace.
Nigel had scooped her into his arms and carried her through the frozen community, where every building settled into a wasteland of solid ice, completely drained of life.
He and Fortuna had returned Fate to the brothel and bundled her in blankets.
Now Fate lay staring at her ceiling, riddled with the pain of her memories. She wanted to spend more time by her brother’s side, listening to his prattle about the Empire and its secrets. She regretted arguing with him, but it was too late to go back and apologize, to listen to his words more carefully. Never again could she walk hand in hand with him as she had during childhood.
Her cries fell silent in the darkness, as she submerged herself in warm tears and blankets.
Fortuna and Tori entered to rest beside her. They held her closely and cried for the loss of the prince they all knew and loved dearly.
Fortuna hummed to lull her girls. “Rest now. Tomorrow, you begin anew.”
Morning broke over the community in Nitor on the day following Abyssus’ death. Fate sat up from a sleepless night at a sudden noise in her bedroom.
Tori had been wiping the furniture and preparing breakfast. “I’m sorry. I was cleaning and I knocked down this journal. I thought it would be better if I didn’t touch it.”
Fate whispered through her chapped lips. “Journal?” She retrieved the green hardcover book from the floor and read the gold letters across the front: Solaris.
Her fingers swept across the pages, turning them carefully for inspection. On the first page, she discovered a note:
Dearest sister,
I promised I would deliver this journal when the time was right. I hope that it will find you in your time of need.
She skimmed the pages for a list of its contents, which she quickly discovered in the first few pages.
*Key
*Habits and behaviors
*If you decided to help
*If you decided not to help
She paused to think about the journal’s origins. “Tori, where did you find this?”
“Um... it was stuck under the lip of your table. Is it damaged?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.” Only one possibility came to mind: the day Abyssus visited her to talk about the performance.
This is why he came that day.
Tori interrupted her thoughts. “Your tea and breakfast are here for you when you’re ready. Please call me if you’re in need of any assistance.”
Fate closed the gate behind her sister and opened the journal again to continue reading.
I promised myself I would only give this to you if things took a turn for the worse. I’m afraid that you were right. I’m too reckless.
I’ve spent all my time chasing secrets, and now I must share some of them with you. Please read all of the contents in order. It is imperative that you take the utmost consideration in handling this journal. Share only with Hero.
She clutched the journal to her chest. “Why? Why did you have to go this far? Why is he so valuable to you?”
A lot had happened since their childhood, but Fate hadn’t cried since the day she was sold to the brothel. She thought it weak to give into her emotions, but her most recent wound was too surreal to bury. It left a numbing pain in her throat and chest. The words on the journal’s pages spoke to her with such clarity that she could still hear Abyssus, as though he sat beside her.
She caught a stream of tears with her fingertips and forced herself to read further.
Key: This is but one of four journals. The second book and key, ‘Ulnaire,’ will be buried in Hero’s favorite place.
“Favorite place... where?” She opened the next section.
Habits and Behaviors: recordings of a tainted individual.
My first impression of Hero is the kid with the magnifying glass, burning ants on the sidewalk. By this, I mean he bears no consideration for living things. If a cat catches a mouse, he says it’s fate. He believes all objects and people are put in place for a purpose, whether those purposes be influential or purely for others’ disposal.
However, he does care deeply for limited subjects. He has shown great consideration towards ‘The Wayward Prince,’ which I quote directly from his mouth.
I always wondered if the Fallen ever truly cared when someone they love dies. By observation, I would say it depends on the person.
Fate scanned the text, picking up as many useful bits of information as her
brother could offer about Hero’s condition. She wanted to understand how he could lay there so peacefully after Abyssus’ death. The latter observations served more as fact than opinion.
Hero made two friends named after the God and Goddess in the Story of Night and Day. Their time together was short, but it was the closest thing to ‘friendship’ I’ve ever seen him experience.
For some time, I doubted that he would be able to have a normal friendship. Even I’m not a normal case, but we’ve done fine.
After the deaths of Luna and Syo, he closed off entirely. These days, he just has this glazed look. I heard he was like this after the death of his mother, too.
Winter in Nex has been treacherous this turn. Hero may not say anything, but the weather is telling. The Caeles dislike showing others their weaknesses.
Allow the ice to be your guide.
Fate glanced outside through the round window. The glass rattled as the storm blew outside. She thought little of it since they so often experienced these tempests. The community had been completely frozen when she exited the palace.
She couldn’t forgive Hero, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to understand him. She needed to know why her brother had wished to protect him so badly.
You’d better be worth it.
She pulled her coat from the rack, tucked the journal into her pocket, and searched the brothel until she found Fortuna staring out at the storm. The sky hung above, black as night.
“I need to visit the palace,” Fate said, sliding on her shoes.
“Fate, this is too dangerous.”
“I will not rest until I understand. I cannot sleep until I know who and what my brother died for. This pain is eating me up inside. Please, let me go.”
“You know I can’t keep you here. You are no longer obligated to stay. Our deal with Neco has been broken.”
“I’m not moving away. I just need to see Hero.” Fate pushed open the front door and braced herself against the rushing wind.
Fortuna had already donned her fur coat. She pulled the hood over her head and waved her hands to conjure up a protective orb of fire. “I’m going with you. I’ll protect you from the storm.”
Fate hurried to her side, gripping the edges of Fortuna’s coat for protection, and they stepped out together.
Fate thought she might be blown away if it weren’t for Fortuna’s arms protecting her. Bits of ice pierced through the flames and stuck to Fortuna’s face, cutting her skin. Without Fortuna’s ability they would freeze, but for an Ignis the storm was a matter of life or death. Her boundless devotion illustrated what Fate had always needed—the care of a mother.
They passed by houses enveloped by ice, and soon spotted the tall metal gates of the palace through the white storm.
The guards ushered them inside and dusted off the layer of snow covering their bodies.
Fortuna collapsed to her knees, shivering. The incisions in her skin burned red and bled.
“I’m sorry, Madam,” Fate said.
One of the guards rushed to get Fortis, and shortly they ran back into the main hall with blankets and hot water in tow.
Fortuna’s voice quivered. “Don’t mind me. Go and find Hero.”
The guards pointed upstairs and one said, “His room is the first door on the left, but I don’t suggest you enter. I’ve received word that the First Prince of Inoue will be here shortly. You should wait until he arrives.”
“Thank you, but I must try.” Fate turned and hurried towards the stairs.
She ran up the steps, and her heart produced a slow, harrowing beat as crippling pain set deeply into her bones. She thought of the storm outside, and pushed her grief as far down as possible as she approached the door of Hero’s room.
She burst in through the frozen door, scattering particles of solid ice through the air. No sooner did she enter than she became stunned by the thick frost growing from the floor, walls, and furniture. She spun on her heels in awe of the frozen display. Her eyes traced the still growing frost creeping towards the hallway.
When her senses returned, she spun again to see Hero curled up on the edge of his bed, murmuring under his breath.
“Hero, can you hear me?” She rested her hand on his back, and a sharp pain pierced her head. Her eyes flooded with white light, the room spun, and she hit the floor.
His voice cleared as her eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Abyssus.”
Fate opened her eyes in another spinning room only to realize the room wasn’t really spinning. She lay flat on her back in an unfamiliar place. As soon as the spinning stopped, she sat up and looked around.
Tall built-in bookshelves rested around numerous sliding doors, pouring out long scrolls. A spinning wheel sitting on the table clicked as it spun, though no one touched it.
Fate stood to investigate the door behind her, and discovered that it led to a long iridescent path made of light, which appeared to trail endlessly into the distance. She stepped out towards a white haired figure sitting at the edge. As she drew closer, she realized this person was a child, and a Caeles, no less.
She crouched down and attempted to speak to him. “Are you, possibly, Hero?”
He turned his head, exposing a black mask with no place for eyes. It had only a straight slit where his mouth might have been.
She moved back quickly, took a deep breath, and returned to him. She doubted her judgment about his identity, as his aura somehow differed from that of Hero.
The boy kicked his legs back and forth over the edge of the path.
She breathed in and out slowly to calm her heart. “Why do you wear a mask?”
“They say I am tainted.”
“How?”
“I saw something I should not.”
“What did you see?”
The boy tilted his head far to the side and pointed into the darkness.
She leaned over the edge to look more closely. “If I look, will I become tainted too?”
The boy stopped kicking his legs, sat in long silence, and then laughed quietly.
She considered taking off the mask. “Why are you laughing?”
“Mistress, are you not like me?”
Mistress? To whom or what? Hero said this as well.
He covered her eyes with his hands. “That is what you said before.”
“I said—”
“You are empty, just like me.”
“That sounds awful.”
“Now you are also blind, right?”
Fate pulled down his hands in fear that he might really blind her. She sensed through the mask that he might be frowning. “You can’t remove the mask?”
The silence drew on for a long time. “You are not Mistress. Who are you?”
“I’m Fate,” she said, placing a hand over her chest. “Cruentus Fate. Who are you?”
“No one. I am nobody.” He pulled his knees to his chest. “I have to go back.”
“Ah, is it the place with the scrolls? I’ll take you back.” She offered her hand.
The masked boy accepted her offer and traveled back to the room, but left to escape admonishment from a red-haired man by the spinning wheel.
Fate’s gaze followed the boy and trailed at the sudden appearance of the man.
Wait, where did he come from?
“Lost again,” the man said, spinning the wheel with his finger. His hair trailed down his back over glorious gold and green robes. “Not him. I meant you.”
Fate turned back and anxiously glanced around to confirm he had spoken to her.
The man focused purely on spinning the wheel. “I told you, you must choose wisely so you’ll never know regret. If you’re here, then you’re lost.”
“Um, who are you?”
“It matters not who I am, only what I can do for you. In your times of doubt, rely not on what you hear, but what you feel and know.”
She looked in the direction the boy had run. “It’s the Tainted, people like that boy.... I don’t know if they should live or die
.”
The man chuckled. “Ah, yes, the reoccurring question. This is not a matter of should or shouldn’t, but in my opinion, all things created deserve life.”
“I don’t even know if I have the right to decide.”
“Is that not the Spinner’s job? It is your turn to spin the wheel,” he said, gesturing to the device. “Which sinners shall you choose?”
She lowered towards the wheel and spun it with her finger. It clicked by her several times and the room around her dissipated into the glowing white dust. She fell through the floor, plummeting deep into the endless darkness.
Fate opened her eyes calmly. She was starting to get used to the visions and collapsing, as well as the blinding white light of the infirmary.
This time, a dark-haired man sat beside her, his face wrapped up in tattered fabrics. “Good, you’re awake.”
“To be honest, I’m getting tired of being asleep.”
The man uncovered his face to reveal a pair of violet eyes. “I’m sorry to surprise you like this.”
Certainly, it surprised her that the face before her so closely resembled that of Abyssus. She had no response for it; all her pain simmered deep down inside. “You must be Iunu Kyou, the First Prince of Inoue. The guard told me not to enter Hero’s room until you came.”
“I see you’re not fond of listening.”
“It was an emergency.”
Kyou studied her with the eye of a wise and doubtful elder. “What kind of emergency sends you running to your death?”
She removed the green journal from her coat. “I don’t know anymore. I found my brother’s journal hidden in my room. He wrote about Hero and his condition. Lately, everything has been so chaotic that I can’t stay on my feet.”
“Did you mean that literally or figuratively?”
“Both,” she said, forcing laughter. “I’ve been having these visions that I can’t make sense of.”
“This is always interesting.” He folded his arms and sat back on his chair to listen. “What kind of visions?”
“They’re all different, but the most recent one was about a boy in a mask.”
