Fatefall - 48

Chapter 48 - Sage

It is time for you to hear my secret, and hopefully you will make better decisions than I did.

Sage had spent years daydreaming about what having a Grace would feel like, but nothing prepared him for how painful it was. 

The world faded to dull background noise, the only sound the rush of blood in his ears. He’d felt Adrian guiding the Grace through his veins and shoving it into place. No, it had been worse than a shoving. More of a relentless pounding.

The Grace was cold enough to burn as it festered in his chest. It felt like a block of ice had replaced his heart and the agony only grew with every passing second.

Sage leaned back, letting Jett support most of his weak. He felt weak. And cold. 

Shivers racked his entire body and his eyelids fluttered shut. He could hear Adrian distantly promising to fix Declan’s Grace.

Sleep, a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. You’ve had a long day. You’re entitled to closing your eyes for just a few minutes. Who knows how long Adrian will be working with Declan? You should sleep.

He wanted to sleep. He really did. Exhaustion weighed down on him, pressing him closer to darkness and--

Another round of shivers left him trembling in Jett’s arms. Fates, he couldn’t feel his fingers. Was no one else worried about him? Surely Jett could sense that Sage was slipping closer and closer to unconsciousness.

Something’s wrong. The thought hit him like a slap to the face. A blast of flame against the ice that paralyzed his body.

He recognized this brain fogginess. He knew why no one else seemed to be reacting to anything. He’d faced this his entire life, and he’d been a fool not to notice sooner.

Someone was using the Grace of Soul on him, and the only one to have a Grace of Soul was Declan.

When Sage focused on his Grace, he could sense tiny threads connecting him to Declan, and Declan to the others--even Adrian, which shouldn’t have been possible and yet it was. 

But why bother controlling them? Up until now, Sage had trusted Declan completely and he was pretty sure his friends had as well. Unless…unless Adrian wasn’t fixing Declan’s Grace like he thought he was, and Declan worried that they would find out and stop him.

Sage may have been unfamiliar with his Grace, but he knew enough from his near constant tutoring as a child to understand the basics. 

He could sense the threads between Declan and himself. A feeling of comfort and safety pulsed at the back of his mind, making it hard to concentrate. He found his mind drifting multiple times as his Grace attempted to untie the threads looped around his mind.

Declan didn’t notice as the first thread came untied, so Sage set to work with the other knots. With every loop he untied, his mind became a bit clearer. The bitter ice of his Grace still pierced his heart with every breath, but at least now he could concentrate on the task at hand. 

Adrian’s fingers twitched over Declan’s shoulders, both of their eyes closed. Poppy laid on the ground, still unconscious, and Nakoa and Jett sat eerily still, their expressions blank.

It’s now or never, Sage told himself. If Adrian finished “fixing” Declan’s Grace--

He shoved the thought away and grabbed at his Grace once more. It resisted his will at first, but he closed his already drooping eyes and imagined the threads between Declan and the others snapping.

The effect was instantaneous. 

Jett slumped over with a pained groan and Nakoa bolted upright, gripping her temples. Adrian stumbled back from Declan, frowning at his hands. 

Declan, however, seemed unfazed. In fact, he grinned at Sage, his silvery eyes alight with amusement. 

“I told you that you had potential,” he said. His words sounded oily to Sage and he shuddered. Jett tugged him closer, but even his warmth did nothing to stifle the shivers crawling down Sage’s spine.

“Are you okay?” Jett asked softly, his lips brushing Sage’s ear.

“I will be,” Sage lied.

“Could someone please explain what in the world is going on?” Adrian demanded. 

“I thought we already had the discussion about the importance of patience,” Declan chastised with a sigh. He stood abruptly and gave a sharp whistle.

Too late, Sage sensed a dozen other threads connecting Declan to the outskirts of the arena. His Grace rushed to cut those threads as well, but there were too many of them and for every connection he severed, three more took its place.

Measured footsteps approached, echoing across the stone walls of the arena. In sync, about two dozen people stepped into the circle of light cast by Declan’s lantern. 

The people seemed to be from a range of occupations and ages.

Dread chilled Sage to the bone as he caught sight of a handful of familiar faces as well.

Nakoa’s plus-one from the original banquet with his reddish brown hair. Ansel.

Koda, his goggles still perched on his head.

Evangeline. 

Their expressions were all blank and Sage could sense the tethers between them and Declan. They were here against their will.

However, there appeared to be a few of the people who weren’t under Declan’s control. Sage recognized one of them as Sophie, one of his classmates from before his parents had insisted on private tutoring. She stood beside an older woman with Dusan’s scales tattooed across her arm, also noticeably free of Declan’s influence.

Fear churned in Sage’s gut. What could Declan possibly be doing with all of these people? They had to be the missing competitors and citizens from the past few weeks.

“Ansel,” Nakoa murmured under her breath.

Before Sage could warn her, she leapt forward and threw her arms around his neck in a hug. Ansel grabbed her by the wrists and spun her so that she stood with her back against his chest, his knife poised at her throat. Her eyes widened as she lost her balance. 

“Ansel, what are you--”

Ansel shoved her to the ground in a kneeling position at the same time as Evangeline wrenched Jett away from Sage. Koda grabbed Adrian and the tattooed woman scooped Poppy off the ground and began carrying her away. 

“What are you doing?” Adrian shouted, his voice growing hoarse. “Where are you taking her? What is happening?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Your Highness?” Declan asked. He strode to Sage’s side and grabbed him by the arm, heaving him to his feet. “Don’t you know who I am?”

A strong Grace of Soul, more powerful than any other Grace except maybe Poppy’s. A rebellion against the king. Kidnapping other competitors. Silver eyes. A Grace that needed fixing. The tattoo of the scales. The story of the original Fatefall.

“No.” Sage tried to yank his arm out of Declan’s grasp. “You can’t be.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Jett cried out as Adrian asked, “Who is he, Sage?”

Sage choked on his words as Declan’s Grace wrapped around his mind once more. He shivered uncontrollably, his own Grace protesting against him. 

“My name,” said the man who was not Declan, “is Dusan, the Fate of Soul. And I’m afraid that your father failed to kill me.”

Sage’s mind struggled to reconcile all that he’d been taught about history with all of the evidence that very clearly proved Declan---no, Dusan---was telling the truth. 

During Fatefall, King Hector killed all five of the Fates.

Asher’s death…had that been Dusan’s doing? Was it his first step towards vengeance for his dead siblings?

Dusan was the weakest of the five Fates.

Dusan’s eyes were silver, the color generally associated with the Grace of Soul. He had an extremely powerful Grace---to the point where he could practically read Sage’s mind---and yet it’d been “broken”, presumably by a Graced of Void…like King Hector.

Dusan was known for his mercy and kindness until the death of his lover pushed him over the edge.

Could Dusan be taking pity on Sage because he saw his relationship with Drystan reborn in Sage and Jett? 

“You’re lying!” Adrian shouted, obviously not coping with the revelation. “The Fates died--”

“That’s what they all claim, but have you ever seen proof?” Dusan countered. “I still find it amusing that Hector managed to convince an entire city that he killed all of the Fates without any proof. He simply claimed he did, and everyone believed him.”

He scoffed. “Did you know that no one has been born with the Grace of Soul since Fatefall?” He turned his silvery gaze towards Sage, his grip tightening. Sage bit back a cry. “No matter how hard your parents prayed, I couldn’t answer them…until now. I’ve given you a Grace, just like they always wanted. How does it feel to finally belong, Sage?”

“Let go of me!” Sage begged instead. Dusan’s fingers burned against the ice of Sage’s skin. He struggled, but to no avail. 

“Stop!” Jett cried out for the first time since Dusan’s reveal. “You’re hurting him!”

Dusan’s grip loosened, his eyes widening. Still, he didn’t drop Sage’s arm. He started to apologize, but Adrian cut him off. 

“You didn’t answer my questions.” His voice was noticeably calmer now. “What are you trying to accomplish here?”

“It’s a long story that we don’t really have time for,” Declan answered.

“Where are you taking Poppy?”

“You see, this is why I like Sage much better than you. He doesn’t ask annoying questions.”

“What are you trying to accomplish and where are you taking Poppy?” Sage asked.

Dusan gave a heavy sigh. “For the record, Sage, the only reason I’m answering this is because I need your help.”
Sage shuddered.

“Hector succeeded in killing my siblings,” Dusan explained. “Well, sort of. Fates are pretty difficult to kill, so even though their mortal bodies died, their souls lived on. Hector spared me---whether out of pity or to use me as a trophy, I don’t know---but I managed to escape. He used his Grace to break mine, so for years I wandered aimlessly, wondering if I would one day meet the same end as my siblings.

“Then, about five years ago, I heard news of a Graced child in Aecheral who several witnesses saw die and come back to life. I visited Aecheral and it only confirmed my suspicions---my sister Asa had bided her time and waited until the death of a young Graced of Life before linking their souls. I still don’t entirely understand how it works.”

“Poppy,” Nakoa whispered. “She told me she’d died in Aecheral. And her Grace is so much more powerful--”

“It’s because she has a Fate living inside of her. Asa’s interference is the only reason your friend is still alive. She’s lucky you brought her here in time or the removal of her Grace might’ve killed her. It’s the only thing that keeps her bound to Asa.

“Anyway, I knew if Asa could come back, so could the rest of my siblings. The only issue is that young Graced people don’t usually die in unfortunate events, and I figured I’d be caught pretty quickly if I attempted to murder them.”
“Wait a second,” Sage began, but suddenly Dusan’s Grace had its noose wrapped around Sage’s mind and he could no longer speak. When he tried to sever the threads, Dusan’s grip on his arm turned agonizing and he gave up quickly. 

“Bringing back my siblings is all well and good,” Dusan continued like nothing had happened. “But what about revenge? I hired an assassin to kill Hector’s youngest son. I started plotting his downfall. And then I realized that this year is the twenty-fifth anniversary of Fatefall. What better way to celebrate than bring about the rebirth of the Fates?”

Why are you telling us this? Sage wanted to ask. Why expose all of this information? Because Dusan didn’t think Sage or the others would be making it out of this situation in a state where they could use any of this information against him. 

“The Tournament of Fates is supposed to celebrate the strongest of the Graced, so I figured what better way to find adequate hosts for all of my siblings than the Tournament itself.”

Sage knew where this was going, but the more he struggled against Dusan, the harsher the burn of the ice in his chest became.

“Imagine my surprise when five perfect vessels appeared---and all in one team, too. It had to be a coincidence that my sister’s chosen vessel ended up on your team. I recognized your potential immediately. For your age, you are all immensely talented. And you’re young; you have your whole life ahead of you.”

“No!” Jett shouted, struggling against his captor. “You can’t do this to us!”

“I can, and I will,” Dusan said simply. “You don’t understand how long I’ve spent planning this. Now, I’d prefer to get this process underway soon--”

“We won’t cooperate,” Adrian growled under his breath. “If we die, you’ll have to find new vessels and you wouldn’t want that?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll cooperate or I’ll hurt your friends. Why do you think I picked these people to work with me?” Dusan gestured at the various people under his command. “I know you all know Evangeline and Koda already---would you risk their lives to stop me?” He looked at Nakoa. “Would you sacrifice Ansel’s life? Even without death, there’s always injury.” His predatory gaze shifted to Sage. “Would you mind if Jett lost a few more fingers?”

Sage’s jaw clenched as fear burned in his veins. He could sense the truth in Dusan’s statement; Dusan would cut off all of Jett’s fingers if it meant forcing cooperation.

“Of course, there’s always the option of my Grace,” Dusan continued.

Adrian scoffed at that. “Your Grace won’t work on me.”

“Hasn’t it already?” Dusan countered. “Your willingness to help me wasn’t your own, Your Highness.”

“But my Grace--”

“Has been compromised,” Dusan interrupted with a wave of his hand. “The blade used in your attempted assassination was specifically forged. Didn’t you feel it cleave into your soul?”

Adrian blanched and fell silent. Sage almost wished he would fight back because if Adrian---ever optimistic---was giving up, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to fight any longer either. The whole situation already felt futile. Dusan had been planning this moment for years. He’d probably thought of every loophole, every escape. 

“Now, if we could please move on,” Dusan said. “None of you are going to die if you behave yourselves. Sage, you’re going to be my good little assistant, so I suggest you listen closely. I’m going to release you from my Grace and you’re going to help me bind the souls of my siblings into the souls of your friends.”

Dusan’s control of Sage’s mind slipped enough that he could speak. “But how can souls be bound? Isn’t Asa only using Poppy as a vessel because Poppy almost died?”

“Precisely,” Dusan said with a grin.

No. “I won’t help you to kill my friends,” Sage spat.

“They’re not dying,” Dusan argued. “I’m simply burying them. They’re souls will still be in them somewhere, they just won’t be the decision makers. It’s really quite merciful--”

“Mercy isn’t trapping someone inside their own body--”
“You have issues with authority, Sage,” Dusan sighed. “Which is something I’m afraid I don’t tolerate in my assistants. However, I’ll allow you to work out your frustrations. You can be the one to bring your friends to the brink of death.”

“I won’t help you.” 

“You don’t get a choice. Trust me, Sage, this is for the greater good.”
His words twisted inside Sage’s mind, wrapping themselves in Sage’s own thoughts so he couldn’t decipher which ideas were his and which were Dusan’s. He could barely fathom how much more powerful Dusan was than any Graced he’d ever encountered before. 

As Dusan relinquished control entirely, traces of his Grace still remained. Sage found himself reaching for the dagger glinting dangerously in Dusan’s free hand. 

“Who first?” Dusan asked.

Sage tried to focus on the terrified expressions plastered on the faces of Adrian, Jett, and Nakoa. He tried to remind himself that this was wrong and he needed to break free.

But his mind refused to listen to reason, citing rationale that had to be the doing of Dusan. 

“Let Nakoa be first,” Sage decided. The words tasted like blood and he internally winced as Nakoa shrank back from him. “This is her destiny, after all.” 

Dusan stepped closer to Nakoa, who fought harder against Ansel but still didn’t break free. She probably could’ve escaped if she truly wanted to, but Sage guessed her feelings for Ansel prevented her from putting him in danger.

“You’ll have to thank the Divine for this,” he said to her before turning his attention back to Sage. “I’d like you to slit her throat. It’ll be easier that way. Once I give you the signal, I’ll summon Basar’s soul and we’ll guide him to her. Trust your instincts.”

My instincts are telling me to stop, Sage wanted to scream.

His knuckles were white around the hilt of the knife in his trembling hands. He could barely feel the icy cold now compared to the terror coursing through him.

Nakoa met Sage’s eyes. She seemed to be willing him to do what was necessary, even if it meant hurting her. 

Like he had a choice. 

Dusan’s Grace forced Sage to take a step forward. Ansel tugged Nakoa to her feet. He’d tucked his knife away so he could hold her better.

Tears welled in Sage’s eyes as he brought the knife to Nakoa’s throat.

She didn’t seem scared. Or angry, for that matter. She looked numb. Empty. Broken.

Sage’s arm moved on its own accord.

Crimson blood dripped down Nakoa’s neck as she crumpled into Ansel. He held her up by the armpits as her eyes fluttered.

“Don’t close your eyes, Sage,” Dusan ordered. “Can you feel Basar’s soul?”

Sage’s Grace stretched outwards, searching. He could sense Dusan’s Grace locking onto a patch of cold nearby. Basar’s soul? Dusan dragged the coldness forward and Sage’s Grace latched onto it as well. It fought against them, but with their combined strength, Sage and Dusan managed to subdue it.

Dusan led with his Grace and Sage had no choice but to follow. They tugged the cold patch closer to Nakoa and from there Dusan took over entirely. He shoved what had to be Basar’s soul into Nakoa’s body.

She twitched once and fell still.

Jett sobbed and Adrian sagged against Koda. Numbness swept over Sage once more. He shivered again. When he peered down at his fingers, he found them turning blue at the tips. The thought should’ve terrified him, but he couldn’t have cared less.

Suddenly, Nakoa gave another spasm. The blood crept back up her neck like it was moving in reverse. Like time was moving backwards.

The wound on her neck sealed and her eyes opened, the irises both a vibrant shade of turquoise, like Basar’s chosen gemstone.

Then she collapsed again and Ansel gently lowered her to the ground.

“She’ll be fine,” Dusan said, more to himself than to anyone else. “Well, as fine as she can be with a Fate inhabiting her body.” He laughed. Everyone else remained silent.

“Sir?” The voice belonged to Sophie. Sage had forgotten she was there. “Should I take the girl away? Viola will probably want to check on her--”

“Let’s finish with the others first,” Dusan decided. “But if you want to be useful, you can run along and tell Viola that she should prepare three more beds.” 

Sophie nodded once and began walking calmly in the direction the older woman had gone.

“Now, where were we?” Dusan asked, facing Sage once more. “Ah, yes. I wanted to applaud you for your control. You’re mastering your Grace quite quickly. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come--”

Sage gathered as much strength as he could and threw his mind against Dusan’s Grace. It granted him the momentary freedom he needed to spit at Dusan’s feet.

Anger burned in Dusan’s eyes as his Grace took hold again. 

For a second, it felt like Sage would be forced to drive the knife into his own chest. He could sense the thoughts forming in the back of his mind. But then they disappeared and Dusan gave his trademark grin.

“I told you, Sage, I really do wish you’d behave yourself. You have so much potential. But you’re acting quite childish today.” He shook his head, acting disappointed. “I think we’ll save the prince’s formation for last. Evangeline, be a dear and bring the Aecherian boy forward.”

No! Sage tried to sever Dusan’s threads again, but this time his Grace couldn’t even cut through them. His fingers shook around the hilt of the dagger and he wasn’t sure that he would be able to hold it for much longer. 

“Sage,” Jett whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Goldie. You don’t have to do this. I know you’re in there. You’re stronger than--”

Ansel stepped forward and punched Jett right in the gut.

Jett keeled over as Evangeline lifted him to his feet. Images of the blood dripping from Nakoa’s throat surfaced in Sage’s mind and bile rose in his throat.

Where there had been acceptance in Nakoa’s eyes, there was only fear in Jett’s.

“Do it, Sage. His death is necessary for his rebirth,” Dusan said. 

Sage’s knife hovered over Jett’s throat. His hand trembled violently and he could feel a sob building in his chest.

Bring the blade down--

A blinding pain seared through Sage’s brain. His hand arced downwards. His fingers shook. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He would play no part in Dusan’s plans. His Grace surged through him and he called out to the one soul he was already familiar with: the soul of Basar.

Author's Note

Sorry for the villain monologue