“Someone save us!”
“My arm! My arm!”
“The gods! They have forsaken us!”
“Mother! Where are—Ah!!!”
Blood spilled, tears fell, silence conquered the screams of those who could not scream no more.
But to Lynus, these sensations had mixed into a menagerie of violence he could not hope to understand.
No, he simply didn’t want to understand.
Hiding beneath a pile of bodies, he suppressed his breathing to the best of his abilities. His face was covered in the blood and tears of those lying above him as the taste of iron filled his mouth and throat.
His limbs shook, and shook and shook… His eyes, even as blood dripped on them from above, couldn’t be shut. He couldn’t forsake his vision, for it felt as if it would mark his end.
When will it end? When? When?!
The question replayed in his mind. Over and over, without any answer in sight.
WHEN, WHEN, WHEN, WHEN, WHEN?!
The screams were relentless. He could feel the smell of death lingering and growing around him… Maybe, he too would join them soon enough…
It all happened so fast. Just minutes prior, he was standing in prayer with everyone else—his mother, grandmother, sister and aunt… All of them joyfully welcoming a new age of nature and prosperity…
Then it happened. First his mother was impaled—killing her instantly, then his grandmother was shredded by the vines, then his sister… Finally, his aunt tried to take him and run, but she too had the life sucked out of her in the end, leaving only a mummified corpse for her niece to see…
Did nature betray us? Did the gods demand such a sacrifice? Was the Greenfather relishing in our demise?
He couldn’t tell if he was angry, afraid, or saddened beyond belief… Maybe it was a mix of them all. But it felt closer to silent rage induced with fear than it did a sense of betrayal.
But really, that’s all his mind could preoccupy itself with. Distant thoughts to distract from the ocean of death and misery he was now drowning in.
Moments later, he felt another body falling on the pile, adding more weight on top of him. Lynus kept his lips sealed, awaiting the end of this hellish night… Each second felt like an hour, and every minute felt like a century…
Then, something strange happened. A mysterious sensation took over his body, washing away the lingering dread. A soothing voice that felt close yet far whispered a comforting lullaby, filling his weary heart with the comfort it needs…
The guilt of leaving everyone behind lifted from his shoulders.
The rage of wanting his wounded heart to be avenged was subdued.
The pain of crawling above a mesh of bloodied thorns was cooled.
Sleep filled his mind… It whispered into his mind: “Your nightmare is over…”
“A fai…ry?..” The world turned dark.
From the familiar balcony, Soren watched the now pacified horror show with keen eyes and a soft smile. His butterfly-filled irises lingered on the youth underneath the rubble—his Hermit’s Eye seeing all that it needed to see.
“What an utterly boring conclusion…” Said a familiar voice from behind—The Whispering Dream.
Without turning back to face him, Soren continued to glance at the now sleeping civilians and crumbling vines. The comfort they were feeling, the emotions they harbored and the knowledge they had obtained… All of it flowed into him—whether through [Eyes of the Fairy] or through simple intuition.
“It indeed was very boring.” He nodded in agreement.
The Whispering Dream stood next to him, watching the slowly unraveling scene bellow. City guards from other districts flowed in mass toward the bloodied square, many of them racing to catch the perpetrator who had fallen asleep on the altar platform.
“So what now? You said you would defy fate, but here you are aiding me in my goal. Was it not you who denied contacting Tazzith explicitly? Why do I sense his anima within you now?”
Soren’s smile softened. “I learned something very fundamental after my escape from you.
“The chessboard of fate, you see… It has no kings, but it also has no pawns. We are all formless in the eyes of the board.”
He grasped the railing tightly, “The futures we desire are no less important than the ones that go unfulfilled—at least from the perspective of fate itself. It is up to the individual to choose which he wants to give importance to…
“That… Is free will. At least, how one would justify consciousness in a world filled with things destined to happen. After all, anima, at its very core, is the manifested willpower of those who wield it. We exert our willpower on the world, so why not fate?”
The Whispering Dream stayed silent.
“As for aiding you… I am not sure if you’re being obtuse on purpose, but that clearly isn’t the case. If it was, you would have had three promises of the divine accord broken by now.”
Soren glanced at the hooded figure and sighed.
“Stealing the holy materials meant for the Greenfather, feeding those materials to Tazzith to free him, and finally… Massacring the believers of the Church of Nature to artificially accelerate the conflict between Yadria and Aellora. You have certainly managed to achieve the last one, but the other two have been stopped by me, have they not?”
From Soren’s clear view of the balcony, he could see the perpetrator of this massacre that the Whispering Dream was controlling—a Holy Phantasm from the Court of Nightshade, named Cecil Vylanus. The son of a nobleman.
Indeed, the information was flowing into Soren directly… After all, he had managed to expand his Soul Realm across the entire vicinity of the festival square.
Mangled humans hanging from thorny vines like dried up fruit, corpses littered across the cobblestone, painting it all in a dark crimson hue, torches from the now arrived city guards, observing the horrifying scene with their legs shaking.
HIs Hermit’s Eye saw it all. The information held within each perspective flowed into him directly.
Even… The Whispering Dream’s perspective.
Soren’s lips curved into a sinister smile—one filled with utter madness and rage. “So I want you to say again how exactly I aided you? In fact, judging by where Cecil was, you were planning on having him steal the holy materials… What made you change your mind to command him to start the massacre early?
“Surely… you didn’t change your plans because you were scared of my return? You wouldn’t be that much of a coward right, Silmar?”
Indeed, with [Eyes of the Fairy] actively paired with the Hermit’s Eye, no obfuscation could work to obstruct his vision, unlike the last time he tried it…
Soren was staring directly at the features of the enigmatic saint beneath his hood…
Silver hair that flowed like silk, gray eyes that hid a hundred different shades within them, and an enchanting smile that could capture the heart of any man or woman.
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The Saint of Dreams, Silmar—brother of Sylia, the Saintess of Dreams.
Soren was able to immediately recognize him—after all, it was hard to forget someone as beautiful as him… He had only come in contact with two saints, and both gave a lasting impression…
He always had his suspicions, but he never expected to find proof this quickly…
Hearing this, Silmar smiled. He lifted the hood off his head and glanced at the young man standing next to him. He could tell that beneath Soren’s calm and soothing expression was an ocean of rage and darkness.
His anima is much more saturated than before…
The color of his affinity was manifesting clouds of violet fog around him that quivered and shook under his emotions. Indeed, it was far too early to invoke such a large-scale expansion of one’s Soul Realm without enough consciousness training…
It was clear where this anima was coming from… Tazzith, the Knowledge Demon. Their affinities might be different, but there would certainly be some overlap to allow such a manifestation to occur… Though, not without a heavy cost.
His smile widened as he stared at the young magi before him.
“I will give it to you, my earlier provocation was somewhat rude. Indeed, you have managed to achieve the impossible—fate has been steered into a different trajectory than what was foretold. But, I must ask…
“Was it really worth it?”
He turned to face the horrific scene outside the balcony. “The deal you struck with Tazzith, I am certain it wasn’t entirely favorable to you. Was it worth the effort?”
Soren stayed silent as he turned to face the massacre as well. In the distance, he noticed a soldier digging through a pile of corpses to lift out a sleeping child from underneath the blood and grime.
His lips curved into a smile.
“One thousand two hundred and thirty three church believers, and yet only three hundred and fifty four of them survived. Out of those that did, only twenty three weren’t maimed. If we are trying to measure loss, yours has already bled this city dry, and yet your goal will have you reaping the entire world soon.”
Silmar shook his head and scoffed. “I was not expecting you to say something this immature. The people of this world… All of them are like grass straws—easily toppled by the wind, easily trampled on by figures who do not even register such a cost. The gods they worship see them as nothing more than pets…”
He glanced at Soren with cold eyes, “You also have the potential to be one of those figures. Even though my goal is self-destructive, you have the potential to stand with me at the end of this world. Of course, this was before I learnt about your acquisition of that forgotten rune—how sly of you indeed.
“Its powers are definitely tied to traversing the Rift… I am certain now that even if that strange blessing of yours disappears, you could still find a way to survive if this world crumbled entirely… So tell me—why did you choose to stand in my way even when the cost was heavy?”
Soren looked into his eyes—they were filled with curiosity and a strange inkling of desire… That was all [Eyes of the Fairy] could read.
Seeing the Whispering Dream awaiting his answer, Soren chuckled. “Because I can?”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me,” Soren repeated. “I just wanted to experiment with fate, that’s all. To see where my limits lie. The cost was indeed heavy—in exchange for Tazzith granting me one of his affinities, I would help him reconstruct his body…”
Silmar frowned. “He gave you one of his affinities? You do realize what that means, do you?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I am now corrupted with one of His ‘Shades’ of Self. Though, ‘corrupted’ also is too harsh of a word…” Soren rubbed his chin. “Indeed, if anyone else had taken this path, they would have instantly died from having their mind split in half, but I am somewhat special you see…”
“Your race…”
“Indeed,” Soren replied. “I am not human anymore. But that’s not really the reason. You see, Tazzith and I had a lot in common when it came to personality… All I needed to do was ‘nudge’ myself to be a bit like him…”
Silmar looked into Soren’s eyes once more, this time noticing a hint of madness different from what he had seen before. It danced like a flame inside him, but the anima of his Soul Realm blocked further probing.
“How… marvelous…” He couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Yes, I inherited a bit of ‘him’ within me.”
Of course, Soren made it out to be simple, but it was anything but. Aside from the fact that a portion of his personality had been forever twisted, the biggest change happened to his Epoch Fate Star instead.
Just as breaking the promises of the Divine Accord unravels it, so too does an accord enacted on one’s own fate star.
Soren’s accord—to freeze the movements of fate for his Soul Chain was essentially a will to freeze the movements of his own self… That was because unlike every other being in this world, Soren’s True Self was connected directly to his Soul Weapon—in fact, it was a one-to-one representation. By twisting his True Self, he had inadvertently messed with his Soul Chain as well.
Creating a massive change to his personality through external means was akin to going against this promise. It would be akin to signing a contract with someone then finding out that they weren't who they said they were. Though, that anology somewhat oversinplified it.
Even so, that didn’t mean the accord had completely broken apart—if it did, the figment of his imagination would have already taken over his body and assumed full control of [The Faerie Court].
However, it still managed to shave six months from the promise… Soren now only had five more months left to find another Abstract Rune to merge with and stabilize his Soul Chain.
Indeed, a heavy cost as Silmar said it was… But that was the point. His theory of how Star Fate operated needed another force of attraction to change the trajectory of fate, but his anima wasn’t powerful enough to achieve it alone.
Fate, like gravity, had a natural pull—it sought the most direct path, dragging the orbits of fate stars along the course of least resistance. Left untouched, it would have ensured that Silmar broke all three promises of the divine accord, bringing countless Rift disasters to Yarian and accelerating the collapse of this world…
But Soren had thrown another celestial body into that equation. Knowing that his own Fate Star was too miniscule to make a difference in the path of fate, Soren brought along a bigger star—one with more pull on the fabric of fate than his.
Tazzith, the Knowledge Demon. Someone stated to have been a Sovereign in his prime.
Soren didn’t tell Silmar this, but aside from helping Him reconstruct his body, Soren also marked him with the powers of [The Faerie Court] as an anchor in accordance to their contract.
Such a move… It was extremely reckless, even for his own extremely low standards, but it was the only way he knew to tie their fates to each other…
Of course, that also introduced a number of other problems, but he was willing to let future Soren handle it.
Future me would definitely hate current me… Wait, I hate current me, too…
He shook his head with a smile.
Seeing how relaxed Soren was, Silmar couldn't help but sigh. “You really are insane.”
“I hear that a lot.”
“Even so, your ploy… It has definitely worked to a certain degree. But you've made a crucial mistake.
“Even though two of the promises I meant to break have not yet been broken, that does not mean I cannot continue pursuing these goals from now on… This time, it cost you a bit of your sanity and a horrible deal with a demon just to prevent me from breaking the promises of the past, but I wonder what it will cost you the next time you try to stop me? Your friends? Your life? Maybe something far more precious?”
Soren stayed silent as Silmar continued, “Not to mention, the holy materials for the ritual still stand before me now… I can try to steal them before I leave, ensuring another promise is broken.”
Hearing this, Soren couldn't help but laugh. “You might be right. This time, it was my own selfishness that lead me to trying to stop you. I simply wanted to see if I could defy fate, and the experiment worked… With mixed results.”
Suddenly, the anima in the air began to shake.
“I am no hero after all… The people I managed to save today… They only survived because the fate I twisted led to that conclusion. If you were to continue on this path—seeking more and more of the promises of that ancient accord, I doubt I'll be able to stop you. Not with my current power, at least.
“And that's perfectly fine. Whether I stop you or not is not something I am all that focused on—this world has entire deities after all. I doubt that your recent antics have not alerted them to your presence... Soon, the entire world's forces will be searching for you.
“Being a scribe documenting the end of the world is just as thrilling as documenting the saving of the world. Whatever the conclusion is, I will be satisfied.
“But…” His eyes turned to face the beautiful saint. “That's only when talking about your future endeavors. As for now, if you try to steal the holy materials… I can't promise that you'll leave unharmed. Ah no, that's a lie. Unharmed is an understatement.
“You will die if you try it.”
“Oho?” The Whispering Dream smirked as he rubbed his chin—his gray eyes trailed up and down the young man, but it was clear to him that Soren was not bluffing.
Soren chuckled. “My contract with Tazzith… I can easily modify it and allow him to take full control over my body. Of course, it would result in my death, but I am certain he will be able to drag you into hell to accompany me. Of course, if you still think you have a chance, feel free to gamble with your life. I love gambling after all…”
Silence took over the balcony as the anima in the air became heavier and heavier. this lasted for an entire minute before Silmar chuckled.
“Fine, I guess it is your win this time… What a boring conclusion…”
Without waiting for a reply, the Whispering Dream vanished from sight. Without [Eyes of the Fairy], he would have realized what has happened.
“So that's his ability… [Dream Hop]. Interesting.”
“When you acquire more knowledge on it, will you share it with me?”
Soren frowned. “Tazzith, how can you be so greedy? I already promised you an entire library’s worth of history knowledge. Don’t you want to learn what has happened across the continent in the past one thousand years? Or does that not interest you anymore?”
“Gods, how are you so stingy? Even during the contract, you haggled me like crazy… Did Hurion tell you to act like that?”
Soren chuckled. “If you're that adamant, we can renegotiate the contract…”
“Forget it, forget it!”
Hearing this, Soren shook his head and glanced out into the balcony. The smell of blood lingered in the air, still fresh in only his mind alone… Even now, more and more bodies were being carried out, and more and more cries could be heard… The nightmare might have been over, but the night itself continued…
Even so, he didn’t have the courage to look away. For this future… was one that he desired and willed to happen.
“Tazzith… If one were to view fate in the same way one would view a book… Would my actions today be inline with that of a scribe?”
There was silence in the air for a moment, before an answer entered his mind.
“The scribes of old that I knew all wrote with ink… You, on the other hand, wrote with something darker than black… Some stains never fade.”
[End of Volume 1: Board of Fate]
Chapter 0: Compendium, a glossary of terms and key details about the power system and lore. After that, expect a Q&A featuring questions from Discord, along with some art posts. Volume 2 officially kicks off next week!
If you haven’t already, consider leaving a review—I’ll be spending the rest of the week reading them! And if you enjoyed the story, feel free to spread the word.