Fatefall - 4

Chapter 4 - Nakoa

Of course, no one can cross the Fates and get away with it. That’s what they told us, at least. Instead, I looked Death in the eyes and I lived.

Nakoa liked to pretend that the Fates were still alive and that they were watching over her. She knew in her heart that they were long dead - if they’d ever even existed in the first place - but that didn’t stop her from imagining them following along in the lives of mortals. 

But priestesses weren’t allowed to have opinions like that, and if anyone ever found out of Nakoa’s “disloyalty”, she’d probably be exiled on the spot. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

“Are you paying attention, Nakoa?” called the Divine from her perch at the front of the chamber. Her eyes burned a hole in Nakoa’s chest, though she didn’t exactly come across as intimidating. After all, how fast could an elderly woman wearing ten layers of robes actually move? Nakoa knew from experience that she could move fast when she wanted to. 

“Of course, your Divinity,” Nakoa lied, plastering on a fake smile. 

The four girls at Nakoa’s side snickered to themselves, though they were wise enough to hide it behind their props. She ignored them, unable to imagine enjoying these stupid lessons. 

The Divine raised an eyebrow. “Do you realize this is the most sacred custom that our people hold? Do you know how much of an honor it is to be chosen to participate? Many other apprentices would gladly take your spot.”

Nakoa bowed her head, staring at her sandaled feet. She’d learned years ago not to take the Divine’s lectures to heart. “Fates forgive me, your Divinity.” 

“Show them you are worthy,” the Divine demanded. “All five of you, back into form.” 

The other girls shot Nakoa glares, but once again, she ignored them. Her limbs were trained to arrange themselves by this point. She held out her palms, two identical weighted baskets hanging from her fingers. Ribbons of turquoise adorned the baskets and Nakoa’s hair while paint in the same shade swirled in intricate patterns around her eyes to represent the blindfold. 

It’s an honor, they all said, to portray Basar himself.

No, Nakoa wanted to shout back at them. Not when you’re half blind and the symbolism seems a bit too much like mockery. 

“Now perform,” the Divine ordered, waving her frail hand at the girls. 

Nakoa stepped into the dance half-heartedly. This was an honor? She got to dance down the streets of her village dressed like a fool. The Fates probably considered it sacreligious. 

“Stop!” shrieked the Divine. 

The girls halted immediately, Nakoa stumbling over the hem of her dress and bumping into the girl portraying Cashus. 

“You are representing the Fates, apprentices,” the Divine sighed. “Do you think the Fates will tolerate mistakes?” 

“No, your Divinity,” they chorused. 

Nakoa personally didn’t believe that the Fates would care because they were dead. Even if her whole village was right and the Fates would be reborn, she doubted a single parade sequence would be the worst of their worries. Still, failure wasn’t an option when it came to this Divine. 

“You must embody your Fate. You must become them,” the Divine exclaimed, gesturing wildly. Nakoa kept her hands politely folded behind her back and her mouth pressed into a thin line to keep from laughing. “We will spend the next hour in prayer-”

Nakoa groaned, and she wasn't the only one for once. 

“I will have none of that disrespect in this chamber,” the Divine snapped. “On your knees by the pool. Connect with your Fates or so help me, I will have you all replaced.” 

Please, Nakoa almost said. Replace me, and why don’t you Exile me while you’re at it? 

The girls reluctantly knelt by the pool that occupied the center of the chamber. Its clear water was supposed to represent the pure power that the Fates allegedly possessed, but Nakoa took pride in knowing that she’d spit in it once. It wasn’t nearly as pure as everyone thought. 

She allowed her mind to wander, knowing that she’d disrespected Basar enough times that one more incident wouldn’t really matter. He was asking for it, after all. 

Nakoa ran through some of the exercises that she and Ansel had been practicing. As the only one in the village who’d actually been to Xegalla’s main city multiple times, Ansel had more knowledge of the world that Nakoa so desperately wanted to see. He was her age, too, and he’d attended the university in the city for several years until his parents forced him to withdraw from the program. Now, he served as the village’s sole protector, which meant he’d become Nakoa’s only friend. 

Lately, he’d been teaching her about knife fighting. Nakoa could fight with her fists, although she wasn’t very good at it, and she’d had a little bit of training with swords. Ansel wanted to teach her how to use her Grace to her advantage, but Nakoa had reminded him of her half-blindness repeatedly. 

Ansel had also promised that he’d bring her a knife of her own tonight, which was partially why she was so impatient. Her body hummed with anticipation. She could practically feel the clashing of their blades in the fields behind the village, and could hear their feet dancing in the dirt.

It took her a moment to register that the sounds weren’t just in her head. 

Beside her, the other apprentices leapt to their feets and raced to the doorway. Nakoa followed them, her excitement growing even more. She was taller than the other girls, enough so that she was able to peer over their heads and into the street where a group of about a dozen royal soldiers marched in perfect formation. 

Skies, why were there soldiers in the village? Had someone committed a crime? Had the kingdom finally come to complain about the Divine’s refusal to comply in terms of religion? 

Her initial fear was soon overshadowed by admiration of the soldiers themselves. 

Nakoa studied their gold uniforms, noted the way the black embellishments represented symbols from the Fates but also the king’s crest. The Golden Guard. She let out a breath. 

At that moment, she would have sold her soul to join them. 

The soldier at the front of the block raised her sword to the sky and shouted at the top of her lungs, “I need every single one of you to pay attention to me.”

Talk about making an entrance. Nakoa wished she had the confidence of that woman. 

The village was small to begin with, so it came as no surprise that most of the people appeared in the street a moment later. Most were farmers who had been maintaining the fields or shop owners relaxing during their slowest hours of the day. 

Once the woman was pleased with the attendance, she dropped her sword back to its sheath and cupped her hands around her mouth. “King Hector of Xegalla is hosting the Tournament of Fates in exactly two weeks from today! The winning team will receive a prize of 250,000 marks, and the losers will have to pay a price! All Graced are welcome to compete! My friends and I will be giving out the information to anyone who would like it for the next hour. Please consider-”

Nakoa felt a hand on her shoulder and spun to find the Divine hobbling down the steps towards the woman. 

“Ma’m-” the woman began, only to be cut off with a whack to the head by the Divine’s cane. Nakoa stifled a laugh as the woman shrank back, her hands raised in surrender. 

“Get out of my village,” the Divine growled, brandishing a leathery finger at the woman. “Stop trying to sell my people certain death.”

“It’s up for them to decide,” the woman countered. “Don’t make decisions for them.”

“They are my people,” the Divine shot back, stepping closer to the soldier. “So they are my responsibility. I will not have them throwing their lives away for some sacreligious contest. Now go away!”

The woman soldier frowned. “We are not forcing anyone to join, we are merely spreading the word-”

“I will not repeat myself again,” the Divine seethed. 

Nakoa’s breath caught in her throat. The Tournament of Fates? She’d heard vague stories about it from Ansel - tales of glory, fighting prowess, and powerful displays of Graces. And 250,000 marks? It would be split amongst the team, yes, but that still left Nakoa with more than enough money to move to the city and not worry about finding a job. 

“We are obligated to stay for one hour,” the woman said, her voice flat. “If your people are as well-trained as you say, then you should have nothing to worry about.”

The Divine raised her staff, prepared to strike but suddenly Ansel was between the soldier and the Divine. He held up his hands, preventing them from attacking one another. The Divine reluctantly lowered her staff, though her wrath was tangible. 

“Your Divinity,” Ansel acknowledged, bowing his head slightly. He turned to the soldier and repeated the gesture.“Captain.”

“Ansel, please inform this captain that none of my people will be attending her little competition,” the Divinity growled. 

“With all due respect, your Divinity, the Captain is, by law, required to invite us,” Ansel explained, a perfect peacemaker. Nakoa let herself exhale a little, relieved but also disappointed to find the situation had resolved itself. 

The Divinity sniffed, crossing her arms and refusing to meet Ansel’s eyes. “Well, we have been invited, and we do not accept.” 

The captain nodded as if she had been expecting this. “Of course.” She eyed the rest of the villagers and Nakoa’s heart gave a jump when the captain’s gaze landed on her. “However, should anyone wish to participate regardless of their obligations, the sign-ups begin tomorrow and the Tournament will kick off in a week from now. I do hope you will consider, but it appears we are not welcome here.” 

The last part was directed at the Divine who simply turned up her nose. 

No one in the growing crowd dared to respond, knowing full well that if they spoke they risked being Exiled. Nakoa couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else was contemplating the opportunity. Did they seek the change in life that she did? Did anyone else want to prove that they were more than their village-assigned job? 

The captain raised her fist and the soldiers behind her fell back into formation. Silence held the air in an iron grip as the soldiers began the march out of the village. Nakoa watched them go, her stomach sinking with every step. 

When the last of the soldiers finally stepped outside, the tension in the town unraveled. Nakoa watched the tension seep away from Ansel, and immediately she was flying down the stairs to join him, pushing past the other apprentices. 

“A real priestess would never run!” the Divine barked, her hands on her hips. 

Nakoa didn’t bother apologizing. The other girls were too distraught to care, and the Divine’s attention turned to calming them before they could ruin their dresses. Nakoa took advantage of the momentary chaos to meet Ansel’s eyes. 

Tonight, she mouthed. 

Ansel nodded once. Her nerves smoothed over. She didn’t need to communicate her desires to Ansel; he already knew what she wanted. 

Bring Moose, he mouthed back, a small grin forming on his lips. 

Nakoa shook her head, stifling a laugh. Count on Ansel for preferring the dog to Nakoa herself. 

Then Ansel was gone and the Divine was trying to reign in the other girls, who were busy fretting about whether or not their lovers would be leaving them for money (despite the fact that priestesses and apprentices were supposed to practice chastity anyway). Nakoa waited patiently for the Divine to calm them down. 

“Rehearsal will be canceled,” the Divine decided as the girl portraying Asa began sobbing and wailing like a toddler. “I expect to see all of you an hour earlier than usual tomorrow morning.” 

Nakoa bit back a groan, but then reminded herself that if all went according to plan, she’d be gone by midnight. 

I’m finally getting out of here, she realized, excitement setting her heart aflame. I’m finally leaving.

Hiding her eagerness became a harder feat than Nakoa had anticipated.

Her father and mother were unusually quiet at the dinner table. While candlemaking wasn’t exactly a thrilling or high-demand occupation, apparently the day had been especially slow. Meaning they had nothing to discuss. 

Nakoa allowed Alaine and Lulu to dominate the conversation instead. For being ten and eight years of age respectively, they sure managed to babble on incessantly. 

“Priestess Vedi said that she thinks I will make a wonderful Basar one day,” Alaine exclaimed, so distracted that the soup from her spoon dribbled into her lap. Nakoa silently wiped away the mess as Alaine continued onward. “She showed me how to paint the scales of Basar. Do you know how to paint the scales, Nakoa?”

“Hmm?” Nakoa blinked once, afraid she’d been caught daydreaming again. Alaine repeated her question calmly, and Nakoa shrugged. “It has been a long time since I’ve painted anything at all.” 

“It’s okay,” Lulu interrupted. “Alaine just likes to brag because Priestess Vedi calls her special. Today I learned the true story of Fatefall.” 

“Oh?” Nakoa feigned interest, really just glad the attention wasn’t on her as her parents cleaned up the dishes from the meal. 

Lulu nodded, her face lighting up. “King Hector got mad that the Fates had the power to give out magic, and he wanted people like us to be able to pick if they wanted Graces or not. So he went up on the mountain and he killed the Fates. Except Priestess Vedi said we didn’t get the magic anyway because the Fates weren’t really special. She said that now Graces pop up randomly and that one day the Fates will come back in the form of normal people. I hope I turn out to be a Fate.” 

“Why would you be a Fate?” Alaine asked, wrinkling her nose. “Fates are supposed to be nice, and you most definitely are not.” 

“Priestess Vedi told Mama that I’m very well behaved,” Lulu argued, leaping to her feet. 

In the process, she stepped on Moose’s tail and the large dog gave her a look before settling under Nakoa’s feet. Nakoa chuckled to herself, giving Moose a pat on his side. 

Her family would be what she would miss the most during her travels. Nakoa couldn’t imagine living without Mama and Papa and Alaine and Lulu. Maybe they could come and visit her after she won the Tournament. Fates, maybe they would even move in with her. 

At least Moose would be coming with her. 

The rest of the evening passed with unbearable slowness. If Nakoa hadn’t possessed the Grace of Time, she would have sworn that time had stopped moving altogether. She told Mama and Papa that the showdown in the street combined with long practices for the parade had tired her out and ended up following Alaine and Lulu to bed. Never had she been more grateful for her own room. 

Packing was a challenge in itself too. Nakoa didn’t own much clothing besides her apprentice robes and her work clothes. She assumed that people in the city wouldn’t take too well to her wardrobe and decided that she’d force Ansel to take her shopping once they arrived. 

She tucked her tiny bag to her chest and waited in her bedroom, staring blankly at the walls. Her room was small, but surely one of the girls would be glad to take it for herself. 

Are you really doing this? 

Oh, Fates, she was actually leaving. Running away. Not even leaving a note. Maybe Mama and Papa would assume she’d gone to the city, but what if they thought she had been kidnapped? Still, Nakoa couldn’t even imagine how she would say goodbye. 

She waited until her parents drifted off to sleep, listening carefully to their breathing. 

Thankfully, Moose padded silently after her as she snuck out of the house, leaving no trace she’d ever been there in the first place. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but Nakoa wiped them away with the back of her hand, smearing the paint on her skin. 

Her breath caught in her throat she closed the door behind her. 

I’ll send a letter, she concluded. She could send them a letter upon her arrival in the city, and she would apologize knowing that they wouldn’t be able to change anything. 

Ansel met her at the heart of the village where he’d fended off the Divine only hours before. Confusion rolled over Nakoa as she realized that Ansel carried no bags. Moose trotted over to Ansel, wagging his shaggy, golden tail. 

“You’re not coming,” Nakoa stated as Ansel knelt to give Moose a belly rub. 

Ansel shook his head. 

“Why not? I thought you loved the city.”

Ansel shrugged. “A part of me does love the city,” he admitted. “But I also can’t leave my family now that my father is sick. Otherwise, I would love to come with you and maybe even compete.” 

“It’s for the best,” Nakoa sighed drily. “You wouldn’t want to be bested by me in front of an audience.” 

“Arrogance is not a good look on you, Nakoa,” Ansel laughed. 

She sighed. “So why even bother meeting me if you plan on ditching me?”
Ansel’s smirk morphed into a frown. “I … I couldn’t let you go without at least giving you a warning. You haven’t watched the Tournaments before, Nakoa, but I have. And trust me when I say that it’s going to be rough. You have no training, you refuse to use your Grace, and your … condition makes you …” 

“Fragile,” Nakoa finished for him, the word bitter on her tongue. 

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Yes, it was,” Nakoa said. “Look, it’s true. I have no depth perception whatsoever and I make Moose look graceful.”

“Isn’t his job to be graceful?” Ansel countered. 

Moose had indeed been Nakoa’s gift once her condition had been discovered, and he was supposed to assist her in moving around. Instead, he proved more of a hindrance who stole scraps off the table and laid in busy walkways. 

“He’s not great at his job,” Nakoa said. “Only his face has spared him from being forced to sleep outside for the rest of eternity.” 

“Are you taking him with you?” Ansel asked as Moose gave him a slobbery kiss. 

“I was planning on it,” Nakoa confessed. “I know he can’t help me with the competition, but … I needed someone to be there with me.”

Ansel nodded. “I get it. And as a going away present, I believe I owe you a knife.”

Nakoa could barely conceal her excitement as Ansel stood and handed her a carefully wrapped package. She pretended to be careful as she tore off the paper to discover a dagger with a blade tinted gold and a green hilt. 

“It matches your eyes,” Ansel stated, clearing his throat. 

Nakoa threw her arms around his neck in a hug. “Thank you so much, Ansel! I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

He shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a bit of that prize money might be nice. But for now, I’d be fine if you named that pretty blade after me.” 

Nakoa raised an eyebrow. “You want me to name it Ansel?” 

“Hmm, I suppose that does sound a bit weird. You can think about it, I suppose,” he sighed, glancing at the sky. “You should probably get going.”

Fates, her heart skipped a beat. I’m leaving. I’m actually leaving. 

She tucked away her new blade and called Moose to her side, heat blazing in her cheeks. Ansel offered her a sunstone - a glowing rock that would illuminate her path until morning. She hoped to reach the city by then. 

Why did this all feel so rushed?

“So, I guess this is goodbye, then,” she mumbled, one hand drifting to Moose for encouragement. He licked her palm. 

“It’s not goodbye,” Ansel assured her. “I’ll visit the city in a few weeks to check up on you, okay? Until then, good luck. I hope you win.”

“I hope so too,” Nakoa whispered as Ansel turned back to his house. I really, really hope so.

Author's Note

I think Nakoa is going to be the hardest character to write simply because of her "condition" and her personality/upbringing is very different from the other characters. If you have any tips on how to write characters like her, please let me know!