Rota Fortunae

by Isu Yin

  I saw him then as I saw myself during childhood. He’d gazed at Chi with genuine sorrow and dismay, the same horror I felt when I was sent away to the brothel.

  I watched the others lay out my plan, feeling sick with guilt that I could have thought up something so cruel. I had no choice but to follow through, as it was imperative we recruit him back to our side, so I stepped into the boiler room and sat in wait for hours, until he stirred from sleep.

  The heat of the boiler room exceeded even Fate’s limits of comfort. She set a pitcher of ice water beside her for emergencies, and sat down on a chair in front of Hero. The rope fastened around his arms, wrists, and torso formed an interesting pattern of loops and columns.

  Fortis had spent a long time layering each piece carefully, and checking it, then left a pair of scissors and waited outside with the others.

  Fate tucked the scissors into the fabric of her gown.

  If we get through this, we’re going to have weird stories to tell.

  Hero opened his eyes at last, blinking drowsily. He’d been in the boiler room for some time, cooking beside the furnace.

  Fate stretched out a foot and nudged him. “Hello. I should warn you, if you move too much you’re going to be extremely uncomfortable.”

  “Wha....” He trailed off, struggling with his awakening. Surely, by then, his head and body were aching. He attempted to roll over and his eyes widened. “What? What the hell?”

  “I see you’ve realized the truth of my statement.”

  Anger struck as she suspected it would. He ignored her warnings and struggled to break out of the bindings.

  She had faith in Fortis’s handiwork, so she poured herself some water and watched. “You were right. I’m not strong, so I won’t fight you.”

  Hero soon gave up and lay completely still. His lungs expanded in sharp intervals, likely a sign of the heat’s effect on his body.

  Fate reached out to remove his scarf.

  He snapped his jaws at her. “Get your filthy hands away from me.”

  “I’m amazed. Even in this predicament, you speak to me this way. You’re brave, and now, you will be alone.” She held the scissors in her skirt, crossed the room, and left the water next to the door. “I’ll leave the pitcher here. Let your words and actions decide your fate, Prince Hero.” She swung her arm to make a dramatic bow.

  Once the door closed, she stood with the others and listened to a single, infuriated scream surface from the boiler room. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought she heard a wild animal. “That was a horrible sound.”

  “That’s a sound you may never hear again,” Fortis said, glancing at Chi.

  Chi gripped her sword so tightly, her knuckles had turned white. Her body twitched as though fighting some invisible force.

  Fate touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

  Chi muttered, “I have not heard that cry in so long.”

  Kyou stood before Fate, looking down softly. “That’s an old habit of Fox Clan leaders. I’m not sure where he picked it up, perhaps instinct, but it’s not common.”

  “Fox Clan... he mentioned it before when I said he was small.” The boiler room was quiet. Perhaps Hero heard them speaking and considered them cruel, but Fate wanted to understand his heritage.

  Kyou said, “Members of the Wolf and Fox clans differ in many ways, though size is the most obvious. They are all considered Caeles.”

  “Wolf Clan is tall?”

  “Wolf Clan is known for their tall stature, silver hair, and ice blue gaze. Fox Clan is known for being small and erratic with white hair and mint-colored eyes.”

  “Then why does Chi have silver eyes?”

  Chi answered. “My eyesight was damaged during my adolescence. Eye color will sometimes vary, but usually only if we share blood with other families.”

  “Are children like Hero considered mixed?”

  Kyou shook his head. “Generally, the Wolf Clan considered the Fox Clan like their odd cousins. I think a lot of people fail to see the soft side of the wolves because they can be intimidating.”

  “Hero has parents from both clans. Is he considered to be only Fox Clan?”

  “Yes,” Chi said. “There is a difference in behavior. That cry you heard is a perfect example. Wolf Clan works in packs, where every member of their team functions as one unit. In battle, they seem to share a singular train of thought. Fox Clan used to follow one leader. Groups formed around the leader, treating that singular entity with utmost care. These leaders were chosen by bloodline and contribution. If the leader proved unworthy, our family disposed of that person and elected the next worthy leader. It is all an act of domination, much like our methods of courting a favorable partner.”

  “Wait, what did you say? Courting?”

  Chi glimpsed at the door to the boiler room. “Yes, it is common for our family to pick fights with people they are attracted to. The person who wins a battle will decide whether or not they are a suitable pair. The underdog must wait patiently for a response.”

  Fate opened her mouth wide and choked out a laugh, which subsided just as quickly as it left her. “What kind of fights?”

  “It really depends on the person. Usually physical.”

  “I see why you were laughing earlier but, uh, I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything when I asked him to train me. I certainly hope this ordeal isn’t sending the wrong message.”

  Kyou snickered. “And if it did?”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  Night came again, and Fortis sent Chi off to rest while he and Kyou sought out the chef for a late meal.

  Fortis warned me not to enter the boiler room until he returned.

  I just smiled and acted compliant, as I had during my days as a courtesan.

  When the hallway cleared, I entered to speak to Hero in complete isolation.

  By then, he lay holding onto consciousness by the boiling furnace. He clearly would not last another day.

  I had to coerce him or everything we fought for—everything my brother gave his life for—would have been for naught.

  Fate knelt down by the furnace, clutching Abyssus’ journal under her arm. She was about to speak with Hero when she recalled that he should have a brand somewhere on his body. While he lay immobile, she crept over to his back and unlatched the choker on his neck. There it was: the brand had been seared into the nape of his neck.

  So this is why Abyssus gave him these things. He must’ve done it while they were young, to protect Hero.

  Hero murmured. “It hurts.”

  “I’m sorry for looking.” She replaced the band. “To be honest, I like this band. It somehow suits you.”

  “Not that.”

  “The furnace, right?” She shifted over him again to sit by his side.

  “Chi,” he corrected her.

  “She wants to protect you... even from yourself.”

  His complexion had grown peaked, and he gasped for air. “I can’t trust anyone.”

  “You trusted my brother, didn’t you?”

  “Only him. He understands what it feels like to seek justice with chaos.”

  “Understood, Hero. He is no longer with us. You must learn to accept that.”

  He managed to turn his head away from her with what little strength he had left.

  “Have you cried at all since Abyssus died? I have—every night—but I’m not suggesting that you’re heartless if you haven’t. I’m not like you. I don’t know what it feels like to see everyone I love die, nor do I know what it feels like to see the fear in their eyes and experience the same crushing guilt that you do. All I know is that you’re in here because I need you to make a decision—life or death for the both of us.”

  “Both?”

  “I picked a side, even though I don’t know anything. I was given a choice to choose the Rebellion and live, or turn against it and die. You are now being passed this decision. You will be killed if you do not comply, because this is what the Council wants, your de
ath. The members of the Rebellion want to protect us from that fate.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Fate lifted her brother’s journal. “This journal is all about you and the time you spent with my brother. I’ve only read bits and pieces, but it’s clear to me that my brother wished to protect you. I want to carry out his dying wish. If, by chance, you prove unworthy of his trust, I’ll kill you myself. Otherwise, I wish to uncover the truth behind your brand and the murder of your parents.”

  “You know about Liulfr?”

  “Chi told me because I asked. I’m not toying with you, Hero. I’m risking my life to bargain with you.”

  He breathed like the word suffocated him. “Bargain.”

  “I’ll give this journal to you if you can work with me. It’s up to you whether or not you wish to trust me, but I promise I’ll dedicate my time to uncovering the truth. Still, you must remember, I can’t change you, and I can’t magically cure you of your condition.”

  “Then what can you do?”

  “I can put my trust in you. I can be dedicated and loyal to those I care about. I can influence those who doubt you, and stop you from doing what I know is wrong.”

  “That’s a lot to bargain. I’m tainted. I’ll change you. I’ll make you forget the difference between right and wrong. You can’t stop it.”

  “I can fight it, if you put your trust in me.”

  “All for Abyssus?”

  Fate thought of Leoht again, and her heart ached. “No, I want to learn the truth about the Tainted. I want to know whether or not people like you really deserve to die, because right now, I don’t think you do.”

  “Why? Abyssus is dead because of me.”

  She removed the shears from her skirt and clipped at the ropes. “Mortis killed him. You might have caused the miasma, and maybe you even caused his death, but I don’t feel that you did it with ill intent. You were born that way, right? If a bird is born with a deformed wing, should it die?”

  “Of course.”

  “No, you’re wrong.” The ropes slid off and she pulled him away from the heat. “You must learn the difference, even if it’s difficult to undo what you’ve been taught. I know I’m not strong, but I can teach you what you don’t know. Can you trust me as I have just trusted you?”

  He inspected the rope burns on his wrist. “I....”

  She touched his wound and smiled softly. “You must have the strength to fight your own condition. If you really want to, you can conquer it. Let’s try and find a way to suppress the miasma, okay?”

  “I don’t understand you. I threatened your life. You wanted to kill me. Why did you change your mind?”

  “I’m sure this will sound offensive, but I came to realize that you’re like a wounded animal. You snap your jaws whenever someone comes close because you’re not sure if they’re going to maim or nurture you.” She sighed and pressed the back of her cold fingers against his face.

  He jolted back at first, then gradually succumbed to her touch.

  When she the display of trust, she smiled. “By nature, I prefer to nurture others. If I can help it, I’d rather not kill you. If you will trust me, I promise to do everything in my power to prove your innocence.”

  “You think I’m innocent?”

  “Hmm... yes, I do. I’d like to believe my brother put his trust in the right person, but I also think there’s something very wrong with the logic in this case.” She recalled seeing Leoht and the remorse she experienced when she realized he’d been punished. “Call it instinct, but I somehow get the impression that you’re more of a victim in this case than most people would like to admit.”

  “Victim... I dislike that word. I’m not a victim. I’ve also done terrible things for which I can’t repent. I can’t stop it. The urge is too strong.” He held his stomach and winced.

  “Are you okay? We should get you someplace safe.”

  As she stood to grab the pitcher, he gripped her wrist. “I don’t want anyone to overlook my crimes. I just don’t want to be punished for the ones I haven’t committed. I should be punished lawfully.”

  She gazed down at him, wracked with sadness. “To what crimes are you referring?”

  “The murders of my friends, the people I’ve infected, and the chaos I’ve caused around Nex. That’s real. I can’t stop it.”

  She crouched down. “You mean the Astor Tournament? That’s not a crime. It was a competition that everyone joined. I can’t punish you for that. I’m not sure what you mean by chaos, but I also can’t punish you for infection. An illness isn’t something you ask for, it’s something that happens whether or not you want it. Instead of punishing you, please allow me to find some kind of resolution. Your punishment can be that you’re stuck with me and you have to listen to what I say.”

  “And if you die?”

  “Call me crazy, but I don’t think I will.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re crazy. That’s just an assumption with no basis.”

  She pointed at her eyes. “I can see the miasma. If I start getting infected, I’ll escape. How’s that?”

  The corners of his lips turned down and his gaze softened. “Abyssus wanted to stay beside me. I never wanted this to happen. I tried to separate from him. How can you still be so confident? This illness... I can’t stop it from spreading.” He covered his face with the back of his hand. “Can’t anyone just leave me be? If I’m going to be locked up, I should be alone.”

  I used to think that Hero wanted to escape imprisonment in the palace, but I soon saw that he wanted to leave everything behind.

  I personally don’t believe that anyone can ‘save’ another person unless that person has the will to survive, but I do believe that having faith in someone who is suffering can help give them strength to continue. As the God of Life once told me, ‘all things created deserve life.’

  In agreement, I sought to fight against the Royal Council of Mu in order to not only prove the innocence of Caeles Hero, but to protect the Tainted from a fate I deemed unrighteous.

  Fate summoned the love she had stowed away all her life—that of her mother, her sisters, and her brother, which helped her climb over the obstacles on her journey. She had often struggled during her stay at the brothel, but she’d managed to survive because of their encouragement and love.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around Hero and embraced him. “You threatened my life and infected my brother with miasma. I can’t forget that, nor should you, but I’ll forgive you if you can promise to fight your condition. I don’t expect you to recover immediately. It’ll be hard and you’ll hurt a lot, so you must learn to tell me when you’re suffering. You must learn to communicate with me and try to trust that I can handle it. I’m not physically strong, and can’t throw a decent punch, but my mind is a fortress. I can see the miasma and keep it at bay. I have faith in you. I think that you can be wonderful and dutiful. Maybe it’s just blind faith because of Abyssus, but I want to believe in you. Can you try to fight this with me?”

  After a long moment of reluctance, Hero nodded and buried his face against her shoulder. His hand pressed against her back, trembling. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too, but from now on I’ll fight with you. I’ll share my strength with you. Be strong. I believe in you.” Her eyes filled with tears and poured down her cheeks.

  Goodbye, Abyssus. From now on, I’ll carry out your last wish.

  When you lose a loved one, the pain never really goes away. I tried to put the matters of Abyssus’ death behind me so I wouldn’t feel upset whenever he came to mind. I wanted to preserve the memory of him as something good, not something negative.

  It was harder to convince Hero to feel the same way. He always went to a cynical place, often losing himself in his urge to create chaos. He felt obligated to stir up the palace with pranks. I realized that all of these childish behaviors were simply means of controlling the miasma. It was like an infection that built up day by day. He considered it bett
er to clean the wound with harmless acts than to find someone dead because he couldn’t maintain it.

  At its worst, his room became cluttered and he appeared disheveled and moody. If the miasma grew too thick, he turned to violent impulses and locked himself away to avoid others. He never expected us to bear the same weight or suffer because of his ailment, but I still didn’t like it. I wanted to learn about the Tainted and find a way to lessen the miasma. I wanted to know more about people like him, so that, like people with any illness, those afflicted with miasma could be treated as equals.

  I tried sparring with him during those times, and shortly turned it into a daily routine. The more we trained, the happier he was. For months, it was our routine, and when winter came, it suddenly stopped.

  On the morning of the eighteenth in the 12th month, just days before Hero’s birthday, the snow cleared to uncover a pale blue sky. The improvement in his mood as of late meant the weather had also grown warmer.

  Fate rolled over on her bed, attempting to reach the window’s latch to let the fresh air in. She was relieved not to awaken to him knocking on the glass like she once had, as she required time and space to refuel from her time with him.

  Every day, she struggled to catch up with his misdeeds and put a stop to them. There were good days too, times when she enjoyed sitting down with him to discuss theories about philosophy and science, his favorite subjects. She acknowledged his intellect, but wished he possessed more self-control.

  He had, at least, learned to manage his mood swings and read Fate’s facial expressions before she dealt a punishment.

  On her birthday, he held a party at the palace and showered her with clothing from the Capital. This gesture amused her since it meant he had grown tired of commenting on her attire. He constantly fretted over the state of her old clothing and encouraged her to buy a better variety of garments, but she didn’t have the finances.

  She sometimes doubted his kindness, speculating that he planned an elaborate scheme to earn her trust. It wouldn’t have been the first time that he deceived her, except there was one consistency in Hero’s behavior—he hated liars.