Fatefall - 26

Chapter 26 - Nakoa 

Dusan didn’t fall in love, per say. He made a maddeningly slow descent from politeness to affection to lust. I wonder if Dusan knew he was in love from the beginning, if this was his way of reinforcing his differences. Compassion made him human, and to the Fates, humanity and weakness are synonymous. 

“Well, it looks like we really lucked out this time,” Poppy said, wiping her hands on her jacket. “Sage will be fine, albeit a bit sore.” 

Nakoa exhaled a sigh of relief, glad she could cross at least one item off her ever-growing list of worries. Two things, actually. Rescue Sage/make sure he lives. Survive night two in the desert full of creatures that want you dead. 

Now she only had about a dozen other things to worry about. Surviving night three, keeping Jett from over-exerting himself, and checking on Ansel to name a few. 

“It’s a good thing I am fine,” Sage grumbled, burying his bloody wrists in the sleeves of his jacket. “Otherwise the four hour trek across the desert probably would have killed me by now. But by all means, don’t let me ruin the celebration.”

Nakoa frowned. She had to admit that dragging Sage through several miles of sand without checking for injuries probably wasn’t the smartest move. But it was either that or being hunted down by Sage’s kidnappers, and while Nakoa trusted Poppy and Adrian’s fighting skills to an extent, she didn’t want to push their luck.

One infected injury was all it took for the whole team to be disqualified.

“All right, just because you didn’t get your beauty stop doesn’t mean you get to take it out on the rest of us,” Jett said, crossing his arms. “If anything, we deserve a thanks for saving my pathetic---”

Sage did say thanks, along with a string of curses that brought heat to Nakoa’s cheeks. Never in her short time as a priestess had she heard anyone use so many swear words in one sentence---if any at all.

Jett and Sage continued arguing, but Nakoa tried to drown them out. At least they were on speaking terms again. She didn’t pay much mind to the lives of her teammates---it wasn’t her business---but she’d have to be completely blind to not notice…whatever it was that the pair of them had going on. 

Although the same could be said for Poppy and Adrian…

Nakoa found her thoughts drifting to Ansel. Guilt prickled across her skin as she realized that the events of the previous night had prevented her from checking in on Ansel. 

Her Grace was still unwieldy and seemed to fight against her at every turn, but she had enough control to basically turn her dreams into visions. When she slept, she could check in on her family, her village, and---perhaps most importantly---Ansel. 

With Sage being kidnapped, setting the checkpoint on fire, the rescue, and running away, Nakoa had little time to sleep and not nearly enough energy to cast out her Grace.

“Nakoa?” Adrian’s sharp voice sliced through her daydreams. “Are you listening?”

She felt a warm blush rise to her cheeks. “No. Sorry.” She shoved her thoughts of Ansel away, tucking them in the back corner of her mind to focus on when they stopped to rest again.

“We’re going to head back towards the forest,” Adrian explained, unbothered by Nakoa’s distraction. “At this point, it’s worth the risk. With only four teams left, we might stand a chance.”

Nakoa nodded. She’d heard the fireworks the previous night. She knew that somewhere, a team had surrendered. What had caused it? A Fate attack? Fear? A death? 

Adrian’s decision was a logical one. The desert had not proved fruitful in any way, and obviously the checkpoints were well-hidden enough that any advantage they’d assumed would come from a lack of trees was rendered useless. In the woods, they would no longer have to contend with the heat of the day, a lack of water and food, or visibility to the other teams.

“It’ll take at least a day to get back to the forest,” Poppy estimated. 

No one argued with the decision. Nakoa suspected they were all more than happy to leave the sweltering sands behind. They shifted course, making their way towards the shadow of the forest in the distance. 

This time, she found her mind drifting to her village. She’d sent her Mama and Papa a letter once she’d passed Qualifiers, but she’d never recieved a response. Perhaps the letter had never made it to the village, or maybe her parents were so mad they didn’t bother answering. And what about Alaine and Lulu? Nakoa hoped the priestesses were treating her sisters fairly despite her sacrilegious actions. Fates, what if her whole family had been exiled--

You checked on them a few nights ago, she reminded herself. She’d witnessed her sisters whispering stories when they were supposed to be sleeping. Had eavesdropped on her parents discussing Ansel’s father. But what if--

“Wow. Whatever you’re thinking about, you should probably stop,” commented Poppy, sidling up to Nakoa. “Your nausea is so strong I can practically feel it myself.”

Nakoa grimaced, trying to fight down the sick feeling in her stomach. 

“That’s only making it worse,” Poppy said and Nakoa stopped at once. She tried to focus her mind on other matters---like Poppy’s sunburn. For someone who’d grown up in the deserts of Aecheral (which were supposed to be ten times worse than any of those in Xegalla), Poppy seemed ill-equipped to handle the situation. Jett, too, seemed to be struggling with the heat, although that could have been his brush with death. Nakoa shuddered, her nausea worsening. 

“Fates.” Poppy rolled her eyes. “You’re horrible at this.”

Nakoa glared at her. “I expect you have experience with distracting yourself from painful memories, with you being an assassin and all.”

Poppy winced. Nakoa knew it was a low blow, but her worry for her family and for Ansel---and, fine, maybe for her teammates too---made her irrational. She was about to apologize when Poppy cut her off. 

“You’re right,” she said, her gaze dropping to the ground. “But that’s not very distracting, now is it?” She shook her head, chuckling softly. “So, Nakoa, what should we talk about instead? We could discuss knives---although I’m not sure a priestess or ex-priestess or whatever you call yourself would approve of that topic. It’s probably for the best anyway. You’d be disgusted by the very creative ways you could murder someone. Or perhaps you could tell me about that boy you’re always running off to see.” 

Nakoa wanted to strangle Poppy. She was glad the boys were walking far enough ahead that they wouldn’t be able to hear this humiliating conversation. 

“I take it that last suggestion was a good one,” Poppy noted, grinning wickedly. 

“You’re not my therapist and it’s not like that,” Nakoa protested, crossing her arms. 

“Not like what?” Poppy pressed. “Obviously there’s something there or you wouldn’t bother denying it.”

“You’re not a matchmaker, either,” Nakoa said, trying to ignore the implications. She and Ansel weren’t anything special. They were friends, yes. Good friends. That was it. Priestesses weren’t allowed to pursue relationships, so Nakoa had given the idea of a future partner little thought. Not that she was a priestess anymore, but she wasn’t sure that it changed anything… 

“Hmm.” Poppy tapped her finger against her lips. “So what’s his name?”

“Why should you care?” 

Poppy shrugged. “Because I’m your friend. And I’m nosy.”

Nakoa scoffed. Could she consider Poppy a friend? She supposed the answer was yes---she trusted Poppy with her life, and yet at the same time she couldn’t trust Poppy with this simple secret.

Not that there was anything to hide to begin with. 

Because Nakoa and Ansel weren’t a…a thing.

“His name is Ansel,” Nakoa finally said, hoping it would satiate Poppy’s curiosity and prove that Nakoa had nothing to hide. “He’s from the same village as me, and he’s the one who convinced me to take up fighting. In a way, I have him to thank for this Tournament. He encouraged me to participate and---what is that look for?” She trailed off at Poppy’s raised brow and mischievous smirk.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Poppy said in a way that made Nakoa feel like she was being mocked. “Continue with your story.”

Nakoa almost started again, but then closed her mouth, giving Poppy a bitter glare. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Making me actually want to tell you things.”

“That’s just part of my natural charm.”

“There’s nothing natural about it,” Nakoa shot back. “I never just tell people things. If there’s no purpose to the conversation, then there’s no point in having it in the first place. And yet somehow you’ve managed to weasel into my mind and now you’re forcing me to talk to you. Is your Grace involved?”

Poppy laughed. Actually laughed.

“Nakoa,” she managed to say between giggles. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of?”

Flames of embarrassment licked at Nakoa’s face. 

“The Grace of Life doesn’t make people talk, Nakoa,” Poppy continued, wiping at her eyes. “It’s called having friends. Friends tell each other things.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t like it,” Nakoa retorted, feeling childish.

“Fine,” Poppy said. “We can change the subject. Have you given any thought to what you’re going to wear to the gala?”

Nakoa blinked. “The…gala?”

Poppy gave Nakoa a look. “From what I’ve heard, there’s always a masquerade ball after the second Trial ends. The two remaining teams and the majority of the nobility attend.” She gave a shrug. “Maybe it’s just a rumor, but even if it is, the two of us should go dress shopping.”

“Dress shopping?” Nakoa repeated in disbelief. “The two of us?”

Poppy seemed offended. “Why not?”

Nakoa could have given several reasons. I don’t want to attend a stupid dance. A dress seems like a huge waste of money. I really don’t want to go shopping with an assassin. But when she tried to speak, her voice failed her. 

“--and I think you would like really nice in either emerald or gold---to match your eyes, of course. Ooh, what about both? A green dress with gold embroidery--” Poppy continued, oblivious to Nakoa’s reluctance. 

“Could you two stop talking about dresses for one minute?” Adrian snapped. 

So he’d been eavesdropping all along. Nakoa bristled, prepared to teach Poppy a lesson about embarrassing conversations. 

Sage turned to face them and pressed a finger to his lips, cutting off Nakoa’s thoughts of revenge. The group stopped walking abruptly and the sound of silence filled the air. Even though the forest was still a few miles away and darkness slid towards the horizon like wet paint, there should have been some sort of sound. Shivers tingled down Nakoa’s spine. 

She checked the time with her Grace. Two minutes until nightfall. 

Her Grace twisted uncomfortably. It seemed like just a few hours ago they’d left the checkpoint and yet now it was nearly time for the hunt to resume.

Someone was messing with the flow of time.

Nakoa tried to warn her teammates that something or someone was controlling time, but suddenly Adrian’s expression darkened. 

“There’s someone nearby,” he mouthed, eyes wide behind his mask. He pointed behind Nakoa and Poppy, and when Nakoa turned she could just barely make out the shape of a dark figure.

Jett mimed running and then shrugged his shoulders. Sage shook his head and drew the dagger that Nakoa had lent him. 

Run or fight? Nakoa knew those were their options, and judging by the stars that now blanketed the sky, she had a good idea of who this mysterious someone might be. A fake Fate.

“Which Grace?” Nakoa got Adrian’s attention and tapped on her tattoo---an hourglass--- and then gestured in the direction of the fake Fate.

Adrian closed his eyes for a second and then pointed at Poppy. 

The Grace of Life. Nakoa shuddered. Not that any of the Graces would be easier to fight than the others, but at least with the Grace of Void physical touch was often required and the Graces of Deceit and Time wouldn’t be able to harm them as easily. At least it wasn’t the Grace of Soul, but still… 

The question of whether to fight or run still remained.

Poppy planted her feet in the sand, assuming a fighting stance. Well, that answered that. 

Nakoa unsheathed her dagger, the blade an awkward weight in her hand. She wished she’d had more time to train with Ansel. It certainly would’ve been helpful for these sorts of situations.

She was vaguely aware of her teammates drawing their weapons around her. Five versus one. The odds were technically in their favor if you ignored the power, strength, and experience of their opponent. Nakoa felt her Grace stir in her chest and she recalled Ansel’s advice on using her Grace to her advantage during battle. 

“You five are adorable,” commented a wry voice from the opposite direction. 

Nakoa didn’t have time to react as her fingers released her dagger on her own accord and she fell to her knees, muscles crying out. 

Poppy let out a feral cry and leapt forward, somehow unaffected by the false Fate’s Grace. There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Nakoa winced and forced her limp fingers to wrap around the hilt of her dagger once more.

Nakoa threw herself into the fray of the battle, ducking as one of the Fate’s punches went wide. Her limbs trembled as she stabbed wildly, evidence of the Fate’s power.

Apparently, the Fate hadn’t just been trained in her Grace, but fighting as well. 

Nakoa lost track of the swings the Fate blocked. It seemed that she was ten steps ahead of Nakoa’s entire team. Nakoa would stab and the Fate would back away, nearly impaling herself on Sage’s blade and then she’d kick Sage hard enough he went flying, all the while avoiding Adrian and Poppy’s relentless swipes. It seemed that the woman refused to tire, too, despite the fact that Nakoa felt like the melee had gone on for hours. 

She’s probably drawing our strength and turning it into her’s, Nakoa realized. Why else would they tire so quickly?

Empowered by this, Nakoa poured a new sort of power into her attacks, channeling her adrenaline into the driving force behind her knife. She managed to land one hit, her dagger burying into the side of the Fate. 

The momentum from the swing left Nakoa stumbling over her own feet. She hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind from her chest. 

Nakoa wheezed for breath, struggling to her knees. The soft noise didn’t stop. 

The low hissing sound petrified Nakoa and her limbs locked. Fates. She muttered a swear under her breath, figuring she could repent later. 

Something scuttled beneath her and a scream tore from Nakoa’s throat. Eight tiny legs and a tail with a stinger at the end. She recognized the diamond markings along the creature’s back and fear paralyzed her.

An Angel's Breath scorpion, known for being even more deadly than Fatesbane.

Her mind filled with horror stories that her parents had pounded into her head. A slow painful death. Poison that took days to kill but had to be stopped within the hour. She recalled the priestess who’d given herself over to the Fates using the venom. Her screams had echoed through the village for nearly four days. 

This hissing only became louder and Nakoa noticed a dozen more scorpions scurrying towards her teammates. 

Someone screamed. 

Nakoa’s attention shot to her teammates, where Jett was dragging Sage away from the false Fate while Poppy and Adrian continued to attack in sync. Blood trickled from Adrian’s nose and Poppy had lost both of her daggers. Sage must’ve been the one to scream, as his ankle appeared to be bent at an awkward angle. 

The scorpions hissed again as Jett and Sage drew closer. 

Nakoa didn’t dare breathe out of fear. One movement and the creatures would attack. She had no doubt that they were under this Fate’s control. One small move and you die.

And then Adrian slipped. 

Poppy tried to cover him, but she suddenly stumbled back with a cry, clutching at her heart. She slid to the ground, convulsing. 

The Fate approached Adrian, her steps carefully measured and overly dramatic. She bent, reaching for one of the daggers Adrian had dropped. Adrian struggled to his feet, but the Fate was quicker. 

A scream burst from Nakoa’s throat as the blade plunged into Adrian’s heart. She lunged forward, aware of the futility. Hissing filled her ears and a dozen pinpricks of fire erupted all over her body. 

Her Grace seized in her chest. 

Suddenly, the Fate was kneeling again, reaching for the knife in the sand. Adrian was still alive, his eyes wide as they found Nakoa’s gaze. Her body gave a throb of pain and her vision must have doubled because then she saw two Adrians. 

Realization struck both Adrians at the same time and both figures beat the stunned Fate to the knife. Two Adrians turned into one again as he drove the dagger into the heart of the Fate, the same exact place she’d stabbed him. The hissing silenced and the scorpions fled, and so did Nakoa’s consciousness.

Author's Note

If you notice any plot holes/mistakes please let me know (example: Nakoa sees Poppy's eyebrows raised even though they're behind a mask). I might not fix them in this draft (it's unedited), but I'm starting a "shoulda/coulda/woulda" list of things I need to change if I ever rewrite this piece. Thanks!