Lewis
Thousands of mountains stretched below and away, and continued far over the horizon, creating a fractured landscape illuminated by the soft shine of two moons. Overlooking this terrain was a palace constructed of irden, a silver metal that glows gold under white light. This was the residence of King Castine of Rithveer, he who held my life in a cage. The fall of the final enemy country one week ago marked the end of a 19-year war, leaving all 8 continents in Castine’s control. Today he held a banquet, the largest in history, for the poor and the rich, the strong and the weak, every citizen of Rithveer. Looking over the landscape the palace sat upon, my hand subconsciously swirled a glass of dark liquid as my mind wandered to those final, bloody battles, followed by more uncomfortable thoughts and memories that threatened my relaxation. The sound of glass crashing followed by drunken shouts pulled me back to reality, leaving those thoughts behind. I looked over the edge of the balcony, towards a giant roofless dining room filled with the masses about 40 verid1veridForm of measurement in Fate's Grasp. One verid = 0.5 meters or 1.64041995 feet.s below me. (One Verid is about .5 meters). Five drunkards engaged each other, armed with fists, bottles, and one with a knife. Not my problem. I may have done the King’s work, but I had no interest in ‘keeping peace’, especially with something so trivial. Although, the fact that that might’ve been the only bit of entertainment I could’ve found brought me from my previous position and towards the fight, but before I could’ve get any closer, a light knocking alerted me to a figure standing in the doorway behind me. My hand went under my cloak to where a small pouch of knives was stored as I spun on my heel to greet whoever dared to disturb me. A maid stood there, her left hand on her right shoulder, a formality when requesting entrance into a higher standing person’s presence. I gave her a sharp nod, and she marched closer to about ten verids away from me, then bowed her head.
“The King requests your presence, Captain Vediir. Would you like me to show you the way?”
“I can get there myself.” My voice filled with venom. Did a mere maid really believe I didn’t know the way to the King’s chamber? Distasteful and disrespectful.
I glanced back at the scene of the fight down below, three men were splayed out on the floor, while two were being held down by soldiers, a pity I missed it. Sighing, I strolled towards the King’s room.
Aeryn
Night. A most beautiful time. A beautiful sky, a beautiful moon, a beautiful landscape. This night blanketed fanciful flower fields framed by bewitching bleached beaches that bordered luculent water caressing the crystals of the heavens. The landscape that stretched out around me awakened a small memory inside me, looking back through the broken mirror of a soul that inhabited my body. I glanced up at the moon, judging by its position, it was roughly four hours before 0500, four hours before I missed my chance to kill a monarch. I leaped off my perch on top of the castle-like mansion, and glided along its roof, scanning for an optimal entrance. I stopped by a small window, which lead to a bathroom. It was a suitable opening to the building, but not what I was looking for. I proceeded with my search until I arrived at the perfect spot. A massive ornate red and black window. I slowed to a silent stop, the only sound was the rustle of the midnight folds that clothed me. After I checked that my climbing rope was secured to a nearby stone chimera embedded in the roof, I lowered myself to peer through the stained glass. My body was hung upside down and in my view was a man at his desk doing paperwork. He was dressed in white clothes with small jewelry decorating his ears and wrists. This wasn’t the monarch, but it would be someone who knew him. I crawled to a stop; completely slowing my breathing, my thinking, my movements. All my focus condensed into that bright ephemeral thread. That fragile, thin string that granted access into a person’s mind, into their memories, into their very soul. I pulled myself up back onto the roof and tugged on the thread. My mind went dark.
Haunting, ghostly voices spoke, fading in and out over me as if they were ethereal.
“Sweetie! Honey! Come here! Charles said his first word!..”
It faded.
“Father! I made championships for lanc…”
It faded.
“Hey, Charles!..” A hazy image appeared of a boy, maybe around thirteen years old running towards another boy, about the same age. The image faded, first to deepest red then black. A mental chill pierced my dream-like trance.
Dark figures appeared outlined by a dim musty yellow light, like looking through murky water.
“We stand … pronounce Charles Moncreif… ruler!…”
Suddenly, a violent flood of images and sounds flooded my mind.
“Charles!..”
“Oi, you there, STOP!..”
“The prince is ours!..”
It faded.
Then a single frame filled my mind’s eye. It was the monarch and the man whose memories I was watching. They spoke in hushed whispers, but I could hear everything.
“…into hiding nearby in Werven’s Forest…”
A smile crept onto my face. I had found where the monarch was hiding. Now to kill the brother.
Then, as if drawn through the waves behind a boat, I found myself being dragged away from those images, back through murky water.
The cool breeze of the mid-spring night brought me back to my senses, my mind still deep in the thick fog. Small images still frequently ran through my thoughts. It’d been years since I’d first unlocked that divergent power, the power to see and manipulate people’s memories, in exchange for forgetting who I was. I had lost a part of my soul and it yearned to bring that part back, to make it whole again. It ached with the pain of losing one of the most important pieces that made someone who they were. Whenever I looked back, I could only remember a few, faint, fleeting recollections: a smooth-quartz-white room, a group of people dressed in white, a neverending wasteland of white.
I felt an overwhelming feeling of pain and loneliness.
The most recent thing I could remember then was talking to a man dressed in dark gray. We were talking about… another contract for me… I think… I can’t remember exactly who he was, but I had a feeling that if I helped him, I’d remember something, something about who I was. Something to satisfy that ever-growing feeling which was eating away at my soul, the feeling of forever struggling, forever being lost without any memories to call my own.
Another cool breeze helped me come back to myself, still lying down on the roof. I smiled at the sky, knowing plenty about my target now. It was time to finish this hunt. I went back to the small, open bathroom window that I spotted earlier and peer in. No one was inside. With cat-like grace, I slid into the room, peeking through the space between the door and the floor, a silhouette was visible, almost around the corner, they were facing away from me. Perfect. My knife was ready: sleek, slim, silver, and my aim was sure. I tested the door softly, it’d been well made and quietly opened. Time slowed to a standstill, my mind and my hand poured everything into that small, exposed spot of the neck. My hand rose. Reality halted frozen in this moment: sound stopped, time stopped, thought stopped, while the blade ever so slowly spun towards him. Followed by the etched frame of sharpened metal slicing deep into soft flesh, the airless sound of a cry of surprise, and the thud of a lifeless body.
With the knife retrieved, I dragged the body into the bathroom and locked the door from the outside.
It was time to kill a Monarch.
Hey Everyone, Nexus here from Dissociation. Thanks for reading Fate’s Grasp! Hope you enjoyed our first chapter! If you enjoyed it, please upvote it (If the site has that sort of system) and add a comment with your thoughts! We will read them if they’re on a site we officially upload on. If you’d like to stay updated on things and find other people who read Fate’s Grasp, consider joining the Official Server!
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