Ruenne’del had long since gotten over his reluctance to share his page of fate. However, given certain clues – such as his unusually rapid recovery of Lifeforce after the battle with the Warden, strange affinities, or his blatant use of powerful Aethermancy – she was almost certain that not only was he the High Human, but that one day he would rival or surpass her mother, a Primordial Ranker and an Entity of Power.
He was a powerful warrior—an Irregular who could apparently survive her curse—and while she was close to deciding her next actions, Ruenne’del had, self-indulgently, continued to be a passive observer of events beyond her control or calculation for the first and perhaps last time in her life.
She watched Ori stroll through the caverns, a rare smile on his face as he held another woman in his arms, seemingly oblivious to the darkness and corruption that stained the walls. Yet she could feel his Aethermancy; his suppressed aura was second only to his heavily lidded gaze, the light beneath which smouldered like twin irons recently drawn from a fire.
And then she felt it: a confluence, a collision between fates that would determine the shape of millions of lives and entire realms to come. It was the first time her fate affinity had made itself known since she had found him. She could act now and permanently entangle her fate with his but decided against it. Close to the end of her life and with her Final Fortune remaining, Ruenne’del allowed fate to run its course.
As a result, she watched Ori suddenly summon a spectral blade and stab an unseen eye, unwittingly sparking a chain of events that would lead to the death of every one of the hundreds of humans Ori had been trying to repatriate.
Within hours, a chorus of terrified screams filled the air as a dark, churning swarm of Sluagh descended. They burst from narrow crevices in the rock-like locusts, their knife-like limbs and sharp fangs glinting in the feeble light. Dozens of humans—scattered between Ori and Karanno, were caught unawares. Blood spattered the ancient stone as the anguished cries of the dying echoed long after the final Sluagh was killed.
And then a Galroga came.
In the wide, open passages—far from the narrow tunnels that might offer escape—the flesh‐enchanted monster struck. Among the first to fall were Karanno and Freya, their lifeless forms collapsing as their souls were destroyed by its fell magic. In a counter‐attack in which Lysara seemed to pour her entire soul into a concentrated blast of lightning, the lesser elemental was crippled and disappeared from sight.
Even Ruenne’del herself suffered a near-fatal chest injury to give Ori the chance to strike the final blow. After each death, his belief in the power of his will disintegrated, and his once‐blinding presence solidified into something darker and more vicious; yet somehow, hope—and the desire to continue—remained.
It was then several humans—seduced or impelled into betraying the others after days or weeks in captivity—struck. They ruthlessly killed half of the remaining survivors before Ori could decide how to react. Ruenne’del watched the toll that killing those infernally tainted humans took on him.
Reeling from infighting and betrayal, and seething with rage, Ori broke away from the remaining survivors. His eyes, ablaze with unyielding resolve, flashed in the dim light as he disappeared into the darkness, determined to exact revenge. Lying in wait, the Overseer—the architect of his torment—relentlessly unleashed ambush after ambush, each one designed to further erode his spirit. Ruenne’del trailed behind him, her gaze never wavering as she bore witness to his solitary crusade.
It was amid this bitter, lonely struggle that she found herself falling in love with him. His rage, the intensity of his presence, his ability to persist, fight and hope despite his doubts and failures—it was an allure only one of the High Fae could understand, an attraction she never knew she could harbour. It shattered all her misgivings about her curse, her concerns about her mother and the Seelie Court, or the complexities of two Irregulars somehow walking separate paths together.
In a quiet moment, she had offered to bond with Ori as a premonition hinted doing such would vastly improve their odds going forward. However, without discussion or a second thought, Ori refused.
They met the demon lord—the Overseer in charge of the facility responsible for his abduction. A towering, nine‐foot‐tall behemoth, draped in a robe adorned with assorted eyeballs of men and beasts, stood before them. This was a foe who had feared Ori, who had been meticulous in his planning, and who had schemed and whittled down his adversaries’ resolve, stamina and allies, battle by battle. In his final fight against a foe that had plotted against him and prepared for his arrival, Ori still emerged victorious. Yet, it had come at great cost.
With his soul crippled and his mana turned into poison by a curse, it was there, at the deepest reaches of the infernal prison complex of Ghigrerchiax, as Ori’s phantom hands flickered around his broken body, that Ruenne’del asked him to bond with her for the second time—to become his muse and to be her soul-bound mate.
“This has nothing to do with my curse.”
“Why? What is it you see in me?” he asked.
“You showed me the beauty of hope,” she replied.
As they made love in the caverns and their souls intertwined, Ruenne’del Tuatha Dé Danann cast Final Fortune—a spell from her Soothsayer class that would consume her remaining Lifeforce. With a final, desperate kiss and a burst of shimmering light, fate turned beneath them as destiny itself was rewritten—her experiences and recent insights flowing back through time, reshaping present-day memories with a future that would no longer come to pass.
Ori came back to himself, his thoughts a mess as his mind struggled to make sense of the visions and impressions from his latest bond.
Ruenne’del, who seemed to have mostly returned to her normal self, watched him from less than a step in front of him, her all‐consuming gaze was simultaneously familiar, reassuring and increasingly unfathomable. It was as if one had once accepted someone as odd or quirky, only to suddenly realise just how alien and distant their thoughts and values actually were. And yet, somehow, there were points of connection. Beyond the memories imposed on him, he could feel her through their newly established bond—a bond formed in a now‐discontinued branch of fate, a bond that still, somehow, endured despite the erasure of the circumstances from which it was formed. Perhaps his Invariant Bonds trait was responsible; regardless, this new bond was fundamentally different from his others. Whereas Taurna'diem was like an impossibly delicate strand of woven gold chain, and his familiar bonds were broader though less brilliant two-way rivers, this new bond appeared even wider as if designed from the outset as a tube or wormhole connecting their souls and potential.
He could feel her—her regard, the intensity of her interest, her wild nihilism, her fear and excitement—all hidden behind a mask of intense curiosity, a mask Ori was only now beginning to decipher. Meanwhile, he felt stuffy, as if he had come down with a cold, and his vitality had noticeably diminished.
“What on earth just happened?” Raven asked. The weight of her body in Ori’s arms had long been forgotten amid the deluge of thoughts and emotions. Beyond the new feelings and sensations—many of which weren’t his own—Ori was also experiencing a cognitive rush, a dizziness that left him unsteady on his feet. It was somewhat akin to the sensation he had felt after the rapid increase in his stats, which made sense given the circumstances and the explanation provided by his recent page of fate notifications.
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He blinked. “It’s cool. I’m alright,” he said. Raven’s gaze cycled between them, her expression dubious despite making no move to distance herself.
“Are you sure?” Raven pressed, enunciating each word.
“Yeah. Rue, we—”
“Later. Take care of your people. The rest can wait,” Ruenne’del said. Raven stared at her with wide eyes. Ori absently nodded before sending a message to Freya via Whisper.
‘Something just happened.’
‘I know, I felt it,’ Freya replied.
‘Tell Karanno to stop, I think I’m going to need a minute.’
‘Alright, I’ll be right over.’
“Since when could she speak perfect English?” Raven said, cutting Ori out of his thoughts.
“Who?”
“That girl, the one that you just snogged.”
“She's older than I am,” Ori said absently, his ears burning, his thoughts drifting back to just how unfathomable she was—and how powerful her spells and abilities potentially made her.
“What happened?” Raven demanded in a tone that brooked no argument. “Did she cast a spell on you or something? You seem all muddled—more than normal kiss. The kiss didn’t even seem all that. And could she always speak English too?”
“You remember what I said? About her dying and stuff?”
“Aye?”
“Well, I think that’s solved.”
“You capping!?”
“No cap.”
“You telling me you’re some fairy tale prince, and all it took was a kiss to cure her curse?”
Unable to hold back his laughter at the craziness of his life, Ori answered an increasingly indignant Raven, “Actually she’s literally a fairy princess, and she kinda cursed me when she kissed me.”
“What was that for?” Freya said indignantly after Ori had released her. As soon as she arrived and transformed into her pixie form, Ori plucked her from his shoulder and nearly squashed her with a tight hug.
‘Your soul had been destroyed, Freya. I saw you die—a premonition, well, kinda—from just now,’ Ori sent through his familiar bond.
‘Start from the beginning.’ Freya stiffened before replying solemnly. And so he did, recounting how, even now, they were under surveillance from the Overseer; how they had gone down a path that had led to near ruin and the loss of many lives; how he had defeated the Overseer and bonded with Rue. He also displayed the notifications from his Page of Fate and discussed his new stats. Ultimately, it was a benefit: although his Lifeforce would regenerate after battles much more slowly than before and his lifespan had been reduced to something more akin to that of a mortal, Ori could replenish most of the deficit by spending peritia on vitality—since his Lifeforce attribute was now below his rank cap of one thousand. The real pain point for Ori, however, was that his Breath had been reduced from thirteen to four. This meant fewer uses of one of his most important abilities, Mind Over Motion.
Ruenne’del Tuatha Dé Danann, one thousand and fifty-first princess to the Summer Queen has subjected you to a permanent status effect: Weal and Woe of the Leanan Sídhe (i). This effect enhances Intelligence, Presence and Wisdom at the cost of Lifeforce and Lifeforce Regeneration. The legend of your Bondweaver Accolade grows.
Affliction: Weal and Woe of the Leanan Sídhe (i)
Rank: Primordial
Description: This affliction reduces your Lifeforce and Lifeforce Regeneration by 75% while improving Intelligence, Presence and Wisdom by 300%.
Notes: Part curse, part blessing, this affliction is an early death sentence for all but the very few who can withstand its effects. To those who can survive the attentions of an Leanan Sidhe, this affliction may become an invaluble boon. The effects of this affliction may intensify over time.
‘So, she’s Rue now?’ Freya asked.
‘Yeah, I’m still not… I mean, we’re bonded now, but I haven’t come to terms with it—it still feels unreal, like it happened to someone else.’
‘Well, that’s because it did. Would you undo it if you could? Do you regret it?’
‘No,’ Ori said, surprising himself with how sure he felt, his eyes drifting over to where Raven was interrogating a surprisingly patient and cooperative Rue beyond the range of eavesdropping.
‘And how do you feel? Physically?’
Ori shrugged. ‘My body feels a bit rundown, to be honest, but I think it’s just a cold. My head’s buzzing though—as if I’ve just had coffee.’
‘Your mental attributes have just shot up once more, so that’s easily explained. However, the awakened rarely suffer mortal sicknesses; White Mage or healer classes suffer even less so. You should keep an eye on it, even though you have plans to make up the deficit in future,’ Freya continued silently through their bond.
‘Yeah,’ Ori said, as he recalled the Aether rifts Librarian Thraxis had revealed between Ghigrerchiax and Vespasian, and how his Aethermancy was likely able to harness those powers to improve his soul and Lifeforce.
‘So what do we do now we’re being watched?’ Freya asked, concern evident in her tone.
He sighed. ‘Unlike every other demon I’ve faced, this Overseer is cautious, patient—I can’t rely on him underestimating us. I can only assume he already knows who I am and that his eyes are gathering intel on our abilities and intent.’ Ori’s affinity for Modern Warfare churned under the acceleration of his newly improved intellect, while the Wandsmith and the Bondweaver howled for ultimate retribution. ‘I have a plan. But for now, I’m going to lay low and let Karanno and Incheon deal with anything that comes our way. Instead of blinding the Overseer by stabbing its eyes out, I think I need to show him what I want him to see. And until I get the survivors home, we avoid all conflict as much as possible.’
‘I think I understand. But what if the Sluagh come? Could you resist showing your hand?’
Ori shrugged. “I’ll use Death Ward on the dying and try to revive them afterwards. I’m not sure what more I can do without attracting too much interest. I want you and Lysara to also keep out of the fighting—hide in the earth if you can when the fighting starts.”
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes—anything as long as you’re safe,' Ori insisted.
‘Fine. What should I tell Karanno?’ Freya asked.
‘I think you can let him know we’re being watched; he’ll be smart enough to figure the rest out.’
'Very well, though I’m not sure I like being your personal messenger fairy.'
Ori grinned. ‘Sorry, I’ll make it up to you.’
‘Yes, you certainly will. Oh, and before I go… should I be concerned about you forming another bond before the next time I see you?’ Freya asked, casting a knowing glance at the Scottish art student currently laughing with—or at—a beleaguered Rue.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Ori said unconvincingly. ‘We’re just—she’s just good to chat to, that’s all. Anyway, there’s no way she could come with, she has to go home.’
“Uhuh,” Freya replied unconvinced before stealing a kiss and transforming into her sprite form to fly away. It took Ori far too long to realise that Freya likely intended to swap the ability she had borrowed from him via their bond, but he appreciated the unbidden display of affection all the same. Ori shook his head in amusement as the pixie joined in on Raven’s interrogation instead of flying back to Karanno.
He surveyed the state of the other survivors—they seemed to have split into smaller groups, with not-so-inconspicuous glances and whispers directed mostly towards either him or the girls… ‘The girls?’ Ori wondered at himself silently.
He caught Simon and Peter’s gaze and nodded. When they neared, Ori spoke softly, “There might be monsters ahead. When they come, keep people together. If we spread out, we’ll get picked apart and killed.”
“Can we fight them? Can we find something that’ll hurt them?” Simon asked. He was an unassuming man in his early thirties—fit, with brown hair and eyes that took in his surroundings with a steady, appraising gaze. Ori pondered his question for a moment before retrieving a shiv and a dagger from his Void Storage Ring. They were the last remaining weapons with the lowest stat requirements and to the men in front of him, the two weapons seemed to materialise from thin air. Ori ignored their reactions.
“Can you hold these? Be careful—they’re kind of… err, enchanted. If you feel it’s going to jump out of your hands, it’s best not to bother, or else they’ll turn on you instead of the monsters.”
Simon made a few testing swings with the dagger and seemed satisfied. Meanwhile, Wojciech shook his head, tossing the shiv back to Ori in disgust after a very brief, experimental swing.
“Not for me.” the business owner grumbled.
Ori considered warning them of infernals or possible betrayal among the survivors but decided against it. “Alright, tell the others what I said; we’re going to try to cover the last few miles in one go.”
“Got it.”
Ori once again scanned the crowd, his Vision of the Progenitor sifting through souls as he searched for any signs of infernal corruption. Meanwhile, Split Mind plumbed the very deepest and darkest depths of his imagination for ideas on how to end this once and for all.