Fateless [1]

The sun let off its usual dim violet sky that casted long, indigo shadows over the town. As we walked through the narrow streets, I could feel the familiar gazes. 

The eyes were dull with suspicion and jealousy that seemed to track my every step.

I have known those eyes for as long as I could remember. They followed me for the month I spent on those dark alleys and until the day I stole that bread and got beaten up.

But now… things have changed.

Now, I wore the clean, fitted long-sleeved polo that Neo lent me. Its neat seams and soft fabric clung awkwardly to my still-thin frame. My ribs still ached faintly, a leftover ghost of past beatings. 

And then, there was the girl. 

A small girl with eyes that shouldn't belong to a child. Crimson—no, more like the pinkish hue of blood diluted in water. Just like Lucille's… 

She also held her chocolate bars as if they were a part of her, the way others might hold a weapon or a talisman. 

We didn't speak. 

We just moved through the streets, side by side.

The town seemed larger than I remembered, though that might have been the trick of the light. It had taken me nearly a month to map its edges while I survived by stealing whatever I could.

A stale loaf of bread here, a rotting fruit there. 

But today, the air had a different weight to it. The gazes of the people weren't just suspicious; they were sharper. Hungrier. And, as much as I hated to admit it, laced with killing intent.

I felt them, the watchers. 

One on the rooftop, hidden behind a chimney. Another behind the trash bags, his movements too calculated to be casual. A third was pretending to sell Koi fishes in a crooked stall. 

The way his eyes flickered towards me and then away, as if to say I know you, was too obvious. 

Then, the last one. The one at—

All of a sudden, the girl tugged sharply at my sleeve.

"Hey! Let's go there. It looks fun."

She pointed with a small, pale finger toward a figure at the end of the street. The person wore a mask—its surface cracked, as if it had been hastily glued together after being shattered. Beside them was a shimmering crystal, its surface reflecting the dim colors of the sky.

"That's a prophet. Let's see our fate."

I hesitated, my feet refusing to move forward. 

A prophet? 

It sounded ridiculous. 

But then again, what wasn't ridiculous in this world I had found myself in? 

And it wasn't as though I had anywhere else to go. The weight of the eyes around us pressed in. Maybe it was safer by the prophet. 

…At least for now.

I gave a reluctant nod, and together we approached the masked figure. As we neared, the woman's voice, muffled behind the mask and greeted us. 

"Welcome!"

Her words were slow and practiced. It was the kind of tone that belonged to someone who had said the same thing countless times before. 

"We're offering a free glimpse of your fate today."

The little girl sat down in front of the crystal with an almost childlike eagerness. I followed her, though my movements were cautious.

The prophet tilted her head slightly.

"What's your name, little one?"

The girl grinned, rocking back and forth on her heels, clearly enjoying the attention. 

"Hmmmm… Hmmmm… Hmmm…. Lucia!"

The prophet's fingers twitched slightly, as if the name had sparked something in her. Or maybe I imagined it. 

"Lucia, is it? Very well. Place your hand on the crystal."

Lucia did as she was told, her small fingers pressing against the smooth surface of the stone. We both watched, waiting for something to happen. 

But the crystal remained unchanged. 

No glow. 

No flicker of light. 

Just a dull, unmoving surface.

After a moment, the prophet cleared her throat, a sound that barely masked her unease. 

"Ah, admirable. You possess a very admirable fate."

Her words dripped with practiced assurance, but they were hollow, the kind of statement you'd make to deceive a child. 

But Lucia seemed to accept it, though a small flicker of doubt crossed her face before it vanished into her usual smile. 

I, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice the tension in the prophet's posture. 

Something wasn't right. 

But I wasn't about to press the issue. Not here. Not with the eyes still watching us from every corner.

The prophet quickly turned her attention to me. 

"And you? Will you see your fate?"

I shook my head. I didn't need to know. I stood up, ready to walk away. But my limbs were heavy as if the air itself were resisting my every step. 

"No." 

I muttered, my eyes flicking to the ground. The thought of seeing my future, the idea that someone could know what lay ahead, it unsettled me in a way I couldn't quite explain.

But the prophet persisted. "It'll just be quick."

Her voice was softer now, almost coaxing. A tremor of something like curiosity ran down my spine. Against my better judgment, I found myself sitting back down. 

Lucia stood up. 

"I gotta go! My parents are probably finding me already!" 

'Parents…?' 

I thought, once again thinking about Lucille as Lucia's mother.

I watched her go, disappearing into the crowd. The moment she left, the stares from those four individuals seemed to sharpen. I could feel it. I could feel them.

"Please, put your hand here." 

The prophet said, her masked face still turned toward me, though her posture had stiffened. I hesitated again, my fingers hovering above the smooth surface of the crystal. 

Something about this felt wrong.

Everything in my body screamed at me to walk away, to slip into the crowd and vanish like I had always done before.

But I didn't. 

Against the whispering instincts in my head, I placed my hand on the orb.

Immediately, unlike the dead response from Lucia's attempt earlier, the orb began to glow. A soft light, yellow and pale, began to swell within its depths, growing brighter until it seemed to flood the area around us, casting long shadows over the onlookers and buildings. The air shimmered, charged with something I couldn't name.

Then, just as suddenly, the light vanished, plunging us back into the dull indigo gloom of the town.

The prophet gasped, her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of the desk. Her breathing ragged. For a moment, she didn't speak. Her whole body seemed to tremble with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

"You..." 

Her voice came out in a rasp, thick with something like horror. 

"Fateless. You're fateless."

I froze. The word felt heavy in the space between us. Fateless? What was that supposed to mean?

"Fateless...?"

The prophet's hand gripped the edge of the table harder, her knuckles turning white beneath the mask. 

"It means today's your last day."

Right after she finished her words, something lunged at me from the side, knocking me off my seat and sending me sprawling across the ground. The impact stunned me, my body crashing against the hard stone street. I scrambled to sit up.

It was a plushie-like creature. It was the one I saved back then, and the one I thought I'd never see again. It stood in front of me, its small body bristling, growling with a fierceness that was almost comical.

I looked back at the chair where I had been sitting moments before.

A dark-scaled tail, gleaming cruelly in the dim light, pierced the spot where my body had been just seconds earlier. The back of the chair was splintered, cracks spider-webbing out from the impact as if the very air around it had been shattered. 

It was surprising, but, strangely, I wasn't surprised.

After all, I had kind of…

'As I thought. She really is.'

…expected it. I did.

This person, this prophet, was the last one on my list, along with the other three figures who were keeping a close eye on me.

'The one… beside the crystal ball.'

That was the thought I had when I felt her intense gaze on me, back when she was trying to sell us her empty prophecies.

"Interruption…" 

The prophet whispered, her hands clenched her head as if pulling the strands of her hair.

"I… I… I hate being interrupted!"

And then she lunged.

I barely had time to react before her body twisted through the air. Her legs, covered in dark scales, were not entirely human—more like a dinosaur's, covered with scales. A heavy tail swung behind her, flicking through the air with a terrifying power.

She ducked low, and in one fluid motion, her tail whipped forward, aiming straight for my head. 

But the plushie—my unlikely savior—took the blow for me. Its small body was sent flying and crashed into a wall with such force that a crater formed where it hit.

'No…'

I could feel my breath tighten. She was strong. Far too strong for me.

"Now, it's just us again. Kekeke…" 

She chuckled, and her grin widened as her eyes gleamed with a twisted delight. And then it began…

The dance of death.

She came at me relentlessly, using every part of her body as a weapon: her feet, her tail, her hands, which had now transformed, claws stretching from scaly fingers, each swing cutting through the air with terrifying speed. 

…I could feel it. The inevitable truth.

'If she hits me, I'm dead.'

My body was frail and weak. It moved on instinct alone, driven not by talent but by the sheer will to survive, and a genius mind. 

Left.

I dodged to the left, just as her tail cut through the space where my head had been. The tip of my hair floated into the air, severed cleanly by her strike.

Right.

I leaned right, just in time to feel the cold edge of her claw graze my cheek, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake. My mind was clouded by the dizzying weight of constant dodging, but I couldn't stop. 

Not yet.

I couldn't die. Not here. Not now. Not with the world still spread out before me, filled with more mysteries and excitement than I could imagine.

Focus.

'Focus, Kian. Focus'

And then I missed. Her tail struck me square in the stomach. I managed to step back somehow, but my body was far too weak to follow the movements in my mind.  

Stil, it was more than enough to soften the impact of the blow. 

But I could feel my insides twist, pain flaring up through my abdomen. I stumbled, gasping for breath, the taste of blood sharp in my mouth.

"Kekeke." 

Her laughter was shrill, filled with mockery and a dark satisfaction. 

"Talent? Disciple? Enough of that shit! You're weak. And weaklings are nothing but toys for me to break! Kekeke."

I stood, my legs trembling beneath me, my hand instinctively clutching my stomach where the blow had landed.

"Who are you?" 

I managed to rasp, my voice barely holding. I was stalling, trying to gather what little strength I had left. My eyes flicked to the tattoo on her wrist—a moon wrapped by a serpent.

'The same symbol that kidnapped…'

But she cut me off before I could finish.

"As much as I'd love to play with you longer, I'm afraid there's an interruption again." 

She sneered, and her eyes narrowed behind me. 

"Interruption… I… I hate…"

Interruption?

The realization hit me like a punch. The other three… I forgot about them. My focus was solely on her, on staying alive, and I let my guard down. 

I glanced over my shoulder, and there they were, the three figures standing just beyond the shadows, watching with cold detachment.

Before I could react to escape, one of them vanished, moving faster than my eyes could track. And then—

Urgkh.

The air was knocked out of me as a fist slammed into my stomach. Blood spilled from my mouth, and my vision blurred. I stumbled backward, barely staying on my feet.

Another hit. 

Urghhk!

This time from a second figure. Pain shot through my body as I crumpled to the ground. Through the haze, I saw the first figure turn toward the one who had just hit me with a strange tension rising between them.

"The hell are you doing? One more hit and I'll be the one sending you to the afterlife."

"Yeah, yeah, calm down."

The second figure shrugged.

"Why are you getting mad over our target? Dead or alive. Does it really matter?"

"…"

"See? So let me hit him again—"

"You." 

The first figure's voice was cold now, and the sound of it sent a chill down my spine. 

"If I killed you or not, does it really matter?"

The second figure paused, his expression shifting to something more cautious, as if he realized the thin thread he was dangling on.

I lay there, barely conscious with blood dripping from my lips. I could feel the their gazes again.

But no.

I will not let it end like this. 

'I... didn't come this far just to die now…'