Nyu was still sitting by Elara's side long after Kaelen had left.

The way he'd rushed off like a madman had been unsettling, but not enough for her to chase after him and leave Elara's dead body out here in the cold.

She knew there was no point in keeping Elara warm and sheltered anymore. Her delicate body had already lost most of its own warmth, and her soft neck started to show purple patches where unmoving blood was pooling underneath her pale skin. While Elara's green eyes were still open, the light of life had vanished from them, like a snuffed-out candle.

"Death is coming for all of us," Nyu whispered into the night, as if the mantra could make her feel better.

Death had come for Elara, in the form of a Fateless woman with orange hair she'd met along the way — one that she'd liked too much, and one that had liked her back. But ultimately, their brief but intense relationship had caused her demise, and Nyu would never forgive herself for that.

She didn't even blame Senya for it — if anything, she felt responsible for ruining her sister's life, too. And that of their mother.

She exhaled deeply, trying to vent the growing frustration that was taking hold of her mind and body.

"Should've stayed a loner," she breathed, then bit her lip until she could taste blood.

Nyu had never been one for self-pity, but here she was, wallowing in her own misery, with the weight of the entire world crushing her soul and spirit. She wondered where the tough woman had gone, the one who had been fearless and independent. The one that hid her emotions behind an unscalable wall, locked inside a vault that had no key. Life had been better then, or at least easier. And yet, she doubted she could ever go back. She would try, but she knew the pain she felt in this dark hour would always stay with her, no matter how hard she'd try to escape its cold grasp. It would follow her onto the highest peaks and down into the deepest depths, until one day she'd close her eyes for good, most likely as a result of one of the many people she'd wronged stabbing her in the back.

It would be a fitting end, she thought. But until then, she'd remain broken.

One of her tears dropped onto Elara's cheeks and ran down the ridge of a dark cut.

"Sorry," she sniveled, "I don't mean to bore you with my whining."

Elara didn't respond, but that was okay.

There was plenty she hadn't known about the Fateweaver woman, and even more that had been left unsaid. Elara had shown her that there was strength in sensitivity and compassion. But that strength had also gotten her killed.

As she watched Elara's stiff face, she thought of all the little secrets she'd never get to know about, all the intricate details that made up this wonderful person in her arms. Learning all about her would've been like watching a craftsman create a piece of art — but now, that was never going to happen. There would be no more laughter between them, no more intimate moments, where Nyu felt like she could finally open up about what was truly on her mind. It all felt so incredibly unfair — like she'd been given a taste of paradise only to be told she'd never get there.

Nyu cynically shook her head.

"Listen to me," she scoffed, "I sound as whiny as you did the day we first met."

She chuckled briefly and flicked a tear off her cheek.

"You'd probably have the right words for a moment like this," she continued, talking to Elara's pale face. "I don't. Words have never been my strong suit. I only use them as armor, not to let anyone get too close. Didn't work with you, I guess."

She smiled a brief, bitter smile.

"I didn't know you half as much as I would've liked, but I know you wouldn't have wanted me to be a picture of misery."

Nyu sighed and let her fingers brush against Elara's scarred hands.

"I know what you would've wanted me to do. At least I think so. Your brother is going to put the final nail in the coffin of your beloved Fateweavers. That is, unless someone stops him."

She waited for Elara to respond, but she didn't.

How far would she have wanted Nyu to go to prevent Kaelen from doing something terrible? What if there was no talking to him, no stopping him without making him join his sister in the afterlife? She didn't know if Elara would've wanted her to stop Kaelen by all means necessary, and the dead woman was likely not going to tell her.

Nyu exhaled and watched her breath crystallize.

"I will try to make you proud. If it doesn't work, we will probably see each other soon, in whatever place you are now. But if I succeed and somehow survive this nightmare, don't feel like you have to wait for me. I will come find you one day, I promise."

She spent a minute propping up Elara's body against the pedestal of the large Fateweaver statue, where her elegant head rested gently on a smooth pillow of marble. Making sure Elara's orange robe was as neat as could be given the damage it had suffered, Nyu put both of Elara's arms on her lap until it looked like she was just taking a nap out here under the open sky.

With a heavy heart, Nyu turned to leave the atrium.

#

While she didn't know where exactly Kaelen had gone, she had a hunch. Or rather, she started to see fate's nick for irony, and so it would only be fitting for it to take them back to where all of this started — to the very archive she'd stolen this wretched fate tome from, long before it turned out to be Kaelen's.

She could still remember how she'd sneaked through these ancient halls, fully prepared to take out anyone who'd spot her. Yet, for some reason, she'd spared Kaelen when he caught her where she wasn't supposed to be. Maybe she'd thought it wasn't necessary to kill him, and that she'd outrun him anyway. Or maybe that had also been fate's doing, as much as she hated the thought of not acting on her own will.

But exactly that seemed to be happening to Kaelen at this very moment. It was the way his features had turned to stone from one second to the other, and how his body had moved with impressive speed but at the same time mechanically and awkwardly, like he'd just learned how to control his limbs — it had been a disturbing sight, and she could only imagine the expression on King Montis's guards' faces when they saw this orange creature charging at them, like an evil spirit come alive.

She arrived at the large archive following very much the same path she'd taken the first time she stepped foot in it. Malvorn had sourced a map of the Great Library, outlining all the pathways one could, should, or shouldn't take when trying to reach this part of the building complex with the least amount of attention. Of course, this night was a lot busier than last time, and she couldn't possibly avoid all the combatants that were fighting throughout the network of hallways, but it still allowed her to take shortcuts here and there, hidden corridors barely noticeable to the human eye.

When Kaelen and Elara had taken her on a tour through the Great Library, she'd pretended to be surprised at every step of the way. She figured it best not to let on how she was very familiar with the layout of their home, which would only have led to questions she didn't want to answer at the time.

Of course, Elara had found out later on. And maybe Kaelen knew, too. But it didn't matter much one way or the other.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

#

By the looks of it, this section of the Great Library had so far been spared from the gruesome battle. The hallway that wrapped around its outer wall was empty, and Nyu's own steps were the only ones she heard.

Mentally preparing herself for whatever would come next, she pushed open the large portal doors of the archive. The screeching of old hinges filled the air, followed by the smell of burning wood. Smoke sprawled out of the crack between the doors, spreading along the ceiling in dark plumes. Nyu could feel particles of ash fill her lungs, and within seconds, a foul taste lined the inside of her open mouth.

She didn't see any flames, but she could hear them. They were crackling somewhere off to the left, radiating an orange glow through the rows of tall bookshelves. Apart from that, the extensive room was dark and ominous, with only a few scattered torches shining scarce light onto the backs of neatly arranged books.

She was late.

Covering her mouth with the sleeve of her orange robe, she entered the archive. The air inside was hot and sticky. It clung to her skin like a thick blanket that wrapped itself around her body no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. Her nostrils flared, and pearls of sweat soon started forming around her temples.

Nyu's memory of this place was still vivid. She'd come here just past midnight, treading carefully over the smooth stone tiling that lined the floor, following the path she'd meticulously memorized in the days leading up to her mission. No one had seen her enter, like she was just a chill breeze wafting in through an open window. Only once had she slipped up, when she opened the gate that led to a special section within the archive, where they kept the most important tomes. And Kaelen's tome, apparently.

She frowned. Come to think of it, it was odd that his tome had been there in the first place. He was no lord or king, no Master of fate. But he sure was to become infamous if she didn't stop him.

Following the trail of black smoke and the origin of the orange glow, she went deeper into the archive until she turned around the last row of shelves that marked the end of the massive room. Like she'd expected, the source of the plumes of hot ash was the very room where she first laid hands on Kaelen's tome. She still remembered how a young Fateweaver on watch had chased her out of here — now, that same man was standing in front of the open metal gate, his distorted features bathed in flickering orange light. With a mesmerized gaze, he was staring into the flames that licked the door frame with their yellow tongues. His mouth was nothing more than a thin line, his eyes empty and apathetic. There was no sign of sweat on his pale skin, but his hand had been seared by the spitting torch he held with his cramping fingers. The pain must've been immense, but in his trance, he didn't even seem to notice.

"Kaelen!" Nyu shouted through the fabric of her sleeve.

The fumes she inhaled while speaking were enough to make her cough violently.

Kaelen didn't even acknowledge her presence. Her words might as well have been particles of ash.

When Nyu's eyes started to burn, she pulled her hood lower. Making her way over to Kaelen with careful steps, she felt like she was going to roast alive inside her thick robes. The moist sweat her skin exerted fought against the dry gusts that shot down the aisle, and when she was finally within reach of Kaelen, she could see the whole extent of the inferno inside the restricted section. Raging flames were reaching from the bottom of the ancient shelves all the way to the dark ceiling, devouring books and scrolls with ravenous hunger. Bits of paper were floating through the air, dissolving into dust as they flared up mid-air. Intricately crafted leather covers were curling away from the rapacious fire, shrinking until they were too small for the pages they held, cracking like the bark of a tree. A few of the shelves were already collapsing, creaking in pain as their valuable contents plunged into the sea of searing flames.

The sight would've been disturbing even in a normal library. Only now, Nyu knew that every destroyed book meant a life ended — somewhere, without warning, without second chances. She had been too slow — Kaelen had already committed a massacre. A silent one, one without weapons or blood. But a gruesome one nonetheless.

"Kaelen!" she shouted again, but his body remained stiff as a statue, his features expressionless, emotionless.

While her one hand remained on the hilt of a dagger, she extended the other to gently touch his shoulder. Her fingertips had barely made contact with the threads of his robes when she could feel an almost instantaneous grab around her wrist, firm and unyielding like an iron shackle. Kaelen's head spun around, too fast to be good for his joints, and his eyes were like a chasm into an empty soul.

Nyu tried to break free of his grip, but his fingers didn't even budge.

"What are you doing?" she screamed through the rustling of the flames, trying to keep the smoldering smoke from searing her lungs.

Kaelen didn't respond — and Nyu started to realize that she was looking at someone else entirely. Kaelen's body was not his own anymore, and there was no telling where his consciousness was, or if it even still existed. The man she was gazing at was the incarnation of evil, hiding behind the ordinary appearance of someone she used to know.

Slowly, like she was threading a needle, she started pulling out her dagger with her free hand. She wasn't yet sure what to do with it, but it was clear that this matter would not be resolved with a heartfelt conversation. The devious forces that controlled Kaelen had already done plenty of damage — yet something told her they weren't finished yet, or else they would've relinquished their host.

In a surprising turn of events, she didn't even have to decide what to do with the weapon in her hand. With the speed and force of a blacksmith's hammer, Kaelen's other arm grabbed her by the waist and, with one smooth motion, lifted her off her feet. Nyu took to the air like a pebble skipping over a smooth body of water, her eyes watching as the dark stone tiles passed underneath her. Nyu's astonishment, however, ended abruptly when her rear end crashed into the next shelf over. She could feel every single wooden ledge in her back, and even the softer touch of the book covers in between as they dug into her spine. Minutes could've passed while she hung in the air, awkwardly twisted where the hardwood bent her bones, until her screaming body finally sagged to the floor with a thud that sent shockwaves through her limbs.

This was not her day, she decided. She'd gotten a serious beating here and there throughout her life as a scoundrel — but she'd never received two in such quick succession, with the second one clocking in just when the pain from Malvorn's ground-shattering punch was slowly subsiding.

Unable to breathe, she wheezed in pain. When her lungs slowly expanded again, she coughed clots of blood onto the stone floor in between her trembling fingers. She glanced up at Kaelen, relieved that her neck hadn't snapped from the impact, but his focus was already elsewhere, down the aisle and beyond. The coldness in his expression sent shivers down her aching spine, and the realization that she was only a nuisance in his evil quest rekindled her growing desperation.

She was not going to stop him — not like this, anyway.

Before she even regained her voice, Kaelen started moving. His stride was calm and full of conviction, his eyes fixated on some invisible target. He walked past Nyu's contorted body without even looking down, and the gust his waving robes sent across the floor hit her face like a whip.

It wasn't lost on her that now a Fateless and a Fateweaver had both bested her. That said, she'd sparred with Kaelen before, and under normal circumstances, he was barely keeping up with her. Whatever evil power had taken hold of him gave him the strength to see its vile plans through, mutilating Kaelen's body and transforming him into a killing machine with a singular purpose — to destroy lives, predominantly those of influential people and, most of all, Fateweavers.

While there were only so many lords and kings and elders out there, there were still many regular Fateweavers — the ones fighting to protect their homes, but also those scattered throughout the world. And while Nyu didn't know where exactly their tomes were being kept, she knew with painful certainty that Kaelen would go after them next.

When the echo of Kaelen's heavy steps subsided, she knew she had little time. If there was any hope of stopping him on his mad quest, she'd have to act fast.

Like she was untying a knot, she carefully organized her twisted limbs until she managed to get up. The pain was omnipresent, but adrenaline was providing her with the means to endure it. While she knew she wouldn't be able to best Kaelen in combat, there was something she did know for certain: he, too, had a fate tome. One that was just as fragile as all the ones he was in the process of destroying. And more than likely, it would be stored in the office of Master Zerath, whose whereabouts she was fortunate enough to remember from her thorough studies of the Great Library's layout.

And wouldn't it be ironic to stop Kaelen using the very same means he was currently pursuing? His perishing would be tragic, but the way it would come to pass all the more fitting.

Once again, she pondered the question of whether Elara would've wanted her to go this far. Yes, was the conclusion she came to.

#

When Nyu reached Zerath's office, the door was locked. A few seconds later, it was not anymore, and she stepped into a surprisingly small room, filled to the brim with trinkets and artifacts. The large desk in the middle of the room was covered in scrolls and documents, half-read books, and stacked fate tomes.

Her heart skipped a beat when her red eyes spotted the one tome she was after. It still looked exactly like it did when she'd handed it over to Malvorn, so simple and innocent. From the outside, it looked like any old book and bore no sign of its sinister content.

She crossed the room in two steps and grabbed the tome. It felt surprisingly cold, or maybe her skin was still burning up from coming so close to the furnace that was the restricted archive.

For a long moment, she studied the fate tome in her hands. Then, her eyes glanced at the oil lamp on Zerath's desk. It would've been so easy, so quick. And yet, with all the means of ending this misery at her disposal, she started second-guessing herself.

Was this really the only way?

She frowned, and the seconds passed by with every cruel tick of the ancient clock on the wall.

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