Grey Fate 7

“I’m sorry,” I said, and all my many regrets about how I’d handled everything between us came spilling out with those two words.

Cecilia said nothing, only stared back at me. There was no desperation in her gaze, no hope, no fear. It wasn’t trust, either. As I looked into those teal eyes, I saw only acceptance. She knew this was her end, and she no longer had the strength to fight it.

I didn’t acknowledge my own feelings. I felt guilt for my own actions, but I did not feel as though Cecilia or Nico had earned my mercy. Neither of my once-friends had been granted a fair life, neither on Earth or on this world, and I didn’t blame them for that. But both had chosen to treat this place—this life, this entire world—as if it didn’t matter. While Earth was little more than a bad dream to me, it had become their fixation, both past and future, and they had treated my world—my family—as a meaningless stepping stone to move from one life on Earth to the next.

I didn’t acknowledge my own feelings. But if I did, I knew I would find bitterness, and anger. And hatred. I didn’t acknowledge my own feelings because I didn’t want to react emotionally. I didn’t want to repeat their mistakes by letting the past destroy an opportunity for a better future. They didn’t deserve my mercy, and they certainly hadn’t earned redemption.

But punishing them wasn’t important either. Not in the grand scheme of things. Fate had shown me that.

A roar shook the cavern, and more stones and dust fell from above. Out of the shadows, purple light dancing across black scales, Sylvie swooped over us. The earth shook as her claw came down around Agrona, pinning him.

A scythe of transparent black mana carved through the pool beside me, nearly taking off my arm and Cecilia’s head.

I reached for a golden thread that led from Cecilia up through the ceiling of the cave. I took hold of it, but I didn’t cut it. Instead, I channeled Aroa’s Requiem into it, empowering the potential and conjuring a resonant hum through the thread that spread out in both directions. All of the other threads around Cecilia began to release, snapping like spider silk and turning to golden light and then to nothing but distant, inaccessible possibility.

The last of the knots binding Cecilia to Tessia unwound. When the knots were gone, these threads too faded.

Only two remained: the empowered thread, vibrating out into the universe, and the fraying thread connecting her to Nico, who had already breathed his last breath on this world. The last of his mana drifted free of his core and then out through his mana veins. A knot of bright amethyst motes of energy floated out of him.

A small knot of golden thread, tentative and flickering, extended back to Cecilia.

“Go,” I said, my voice hoarse and weak.

Tears leaked from Cecilia’s eyes, and her lip began to tremble. For a moment, I saw neither Cecilia in Tessia’s body or Tessia herself. Instead, I saw the orphan girl who struggled to make friends for fear of hurting them. With only a slight nod, she turned her gaze along the path of the thread. Although I knew she couldn’t see it, she could feel it pulling her on.

Her eyes rolled back, and the essence of her being burned bright within the golden light of the thread of Fate—this one tying her back to Earth. The aetheric motes that had risen from Nico dissolved into the thread as well, and together, two small purple lights ascended up through the gold. Behind them, the string melted away.