A Heart Unraveled
He stood frozen at the threshold, breath caught somewhere between his ribs. Ronan's figure shrank smaller by the tick of a second, into nothingness, into distance, into inevitability.
And with every motion of Ronan away from him, something stretched even tighter within him-pulling, straining until it snapped.
A jagged, cutting pain cleaved its way through his chest, raw and violent - the kind that took the breath away. Something he had never felt before-there was a tearing inside him, a rift splitting wide open in the very fabric of his being.
And then-
Nothing.
The pain vanished just as fast as it came, washing away with an aching silence that sat heavily in his soul. No warmth. No rope anchoring him. Just an empty void, choking him.
His fingers twitched at his sides in search of something-someone-who was now gone. His mind reeling trying to grasp something, anything, A memory - a name. And the harder he tried to remember, the more it slipped from his mind's fingers, trickling like grains of sand.
His heartbeat slowed, and the world dulled and numbed around him to the point where even his emotional state felt far away-muted. It felt as if there had been a slight broken record of his essence, leaving behind an unfinished puzzle.
A delicate but resolute grasp rested upon his shoulder, grounding him.
"It's time," Fate intoned, her voice weighed with the burden of destiny.
Zephyr swallowed, coerced into a nod. He turned to follow her, but his body held back. Some instinct within him resisted this-had fought for this. Against his better judgment, his eyes darted back toward the path Ronan had taken, his heart clutching-seemingly for some forbidden reason.
Now, it was empty.
And yet, that emptiness did not feel unfamiliar. It felt as if...something had been stolen.
"What happened?" Fate asked, her golden eyes glimmering with the intangibles of impatience and curiosity.
Zephyr frowned, his brow knitting together as he attempted to arrive at an answer. "I don't know." His voice was even quieter now, unreasonably hollow. "I feel like… I'm missing something."
Fate studied him for a long moment, unreadable. There was something in her gaze-something ephemeral and almost pitying-but it dissipated before he could correctly name it.
"Come." Softer now, but firm. "The way forward does not wait."
Zephyr tore his gaze from the empty road, an odd ache settling in his heart.
With a final glance - not sure why he looked back - he turned and followed her into the unknown.
The Land Beyond Time
Zephyr stepped through the rip in space and time, and the air around him shifted.
It was unlike anything he had ever felt before—no weight, no gravity, no direction. The very concept of space unraveled, stretching and folding in ways his mind couldn't quite grasp.
And then, the world solidified before him.
The Land of Fate.
It was breathtaking.
The sky shimmered in hues that defied description, shifting between deep indigos, radiant golds, and soft silvers as if it were painted anew with each passing second. Floating islands of ivory stone drifted in a boundless expanse, connected by bridges of woven starlight. Rivers of liquid silver cascaded down into endless voids, disappearing into nothingness.
Everything felt suspended—like time itself had unraveled here, leaving only an eternal, serene stillness.
But what caught Zephyr's attention the most was the life that thrived in this place.
Tiny creatures flitted through the air, no taller than his hand, their delicate wings carrying them in unpredictable patterns. Some resembled miniature foxes with feathered tails that shimmered like constellations. Others had translucent, jellyfish-like bodies that pulsed with a soft, celestial glow.
They moved in clusters, murmuring in a language of chiming sounds and hushed whispers.
"The fate keepers," Fate explained, her voice laced with something almost fond. "They maintain the balance, weaving the threads of time where they have frayed."
Zephyr watched, mesmerized, as one fate keeper floated past him, its large, luminous eyes blinking curiously before darting away in a blur of stardust.
Fate raised her hand and snapped her fingers. Instantly, two of the fate keepers broke away from their clusters and hovered before her.
One was a small, cat-like creature with sleek silver fur, its ears long and tufted at the tips. Its tail was an ever-shifting stream of golden light, fading and reappearing as it moved. Its eyes were deep violet, filled with mischief.
The other was smaller, almost owl-like, with a round body covered in soft, iridescent feathers. Its wings, though tiny, shimmered like gossamer threads of fate itself. Unlike the first, this one exuded an air of quiet wisdom, its golden eyes studying Zephyr with silent intrigue.
"Liora, Solis," Fate addressed them. "Report."
Liora, the silver-furred one, huffed and flicked her tail. "The threads of fate are stable—for now. But there's been some… interference."
"Interference?" Fate's eyes narrowed.
"A few loose strands," Solis added in a soft, measured voice. "A connection refusing to be erased." His gaze lingered on Zephyr.
Fate exhaled, not surprised but slightly annoyed. "It matters little now. You have a task ahead of you." She gestured toward Zephyr. "Show him around. Let him understand what he has become a part of."
Liora grinned, baring tiny, sharp teeth. "A tour? Oh, I like this one."
Solis nodded, his gaze still unreadable. "Come, Zephyr. There is much to see."
Zephyr glanced at Fate, but she merely inclined her head before turning away, already focused on something unseen.
As he followed Liora and Solis deeper into the Land of Fate, a strange unease settled over him.
Somewhere, in the shifting tides of time and destiny, a connection had refused to break.
And though he couldn't remember what it was—
Somewhere deep inside, he knew.
The Keepers of Fate
Liora was practically springing as she flitted ahead, her silver tail flickering like a trail of shooting stars.
"So, you're new here, right?" she chirped, spinning midair to hover beside Zephyr.
"Well, lucky for you. I'm an excellent guide. Solis is a little bland, but don't worry-I'll make it fun. "
Solis only sighed as he drifted quietly beside her. "I am thorough, not boring," he corrected, his golden eyes unwavering.
"Thoroughly boring," Liora said, flashing Zephyr a teasing grin.
Zephyr huffed a soft laugh, but it was distant, like there was something missing-some weight he had been carrying but suddenly disappeared, leaving only a ghost of its pressure against his chest.
"So," he said, "you both are fate keepers. What exactly does that mean?"
"Oh! Wow! That was a brilliant question!" Liora whooped in glee as she spun around in the air and landed on his shoulder, curling up like a cat made with stardust.
"There are, like, five main types of fate keepers, just like there are ten powerful anchor cards."
"Five?" Zephyr asked with a small frown.
There was something stirring, vague in his memory at the mention of anchor cards. There were no memories, though, just a weird emptiness.
"Indeed," Solis confirmed.
"Each group plays a vital role in the maintenance of the balance of fate."
They led him along a bridge woven from silver light over an expanse where threads of fate shimmered and twisted like strands of a cosmic loom. The faint outlines of figures, people who were not meant to be here, could be seen, mere phantoms in the weave of lives that once would have been written, redirected, or severed.
"We are the Watchers," continued Solis, voice strong and assured. "We oversee the threads of destiny. We ensure that nothing frays and that fate flows in accordance with its design. When interference happens, we are the first to respond."
"Like the repairmen of fate," thought Zephyr.
"More like its enforcers," Liora corrected.
"Then there are the Weavers," Solis continued gesturing at a floating structure in the distance, a very large ethereal workshop made of glowing filaments, into which tiny creatures scuttled constantly, weaving shimmering strands into the fabric of time with their delicate hands.
"They craft and maintain the fates of the living. Every thread, every choice, every path-it is their work that shapes the flow of existence."
Zephyr, his mouth open in awe, watched the Weavers at work.
Some unraveled the golden threads, while some tied them back, some with new strength and some redirected altogether. The sheer intricacy of their work was staggering.
"Then we have the Guardians," Liora said, gesturing to another place-an immense area filled with towering spires, at the tops of which the larger fate keepers patrolled like silent sentinels. These creatures had sleek, armored bodies, their wings edged in obsidian. "They protect the threads from contamination. When someone or something threatens fate itself, the Guardians step in."
A chill crawled down Zephyr's spine. "Corruption?" Solis nodded solemnly. "Some defy fate, twist it, make it unnatural; some want to rewrite their own destiny, while others..." He broke off.
Liora filled in, "Others try to control it. Manipulate it. Keep it all to themselves."
A shadow crossed Zephyr's face. He had no memory of why those words unsettled him so deeply, but they did.
"Then we have the Archivists," continued Solis, gesturing toward a seemingly endless library of floating tomes and shining scrolls.
"They are the keepers, recording everything-the past, the present, and the infinite options of the future. Every life, every decision, every consequence-it is all documented here."
Zephyr's gaze lingered on the towering shelves. There was a strange pull settling deep in his chest, but he forced himself to look away.
"And finally," Liora said, lowering her voice a little, "there are the Heralds."
"Heralds?" Zephyr raised a brow.
"They are the ones who take fate out of the world directly into the mortal world," explained Solis. "When the time comes for fate to intervene directly… they are sent."
"Sent to do what?" Zephyr frowned.
"To deliver messages," Liora said,
"or warnings to others. Or..." She hesitated.
"Or to ensure fate's decree is carried out," Solis finished.
Zephyr shivered down his spine. He, however, did not know why.
"Come," said Solis, leading them toward what looked like a gigantic, celestial factory-pulsing with light pillars outlined in synchronized rhythms while gears of pure energy continuously shifted and turned.
"This is where each of us is assigned our tasks. The keepers of fate return here to oversee the balance."
Zephyr inhaled deeply, taking it all in.
The Land of Fate was more than just a place-it was a living, breathing force, constantly shaping, correcting, and guiding the unseen forces that governed existence. And now he was part of it. But as he continued to follow Liora and Solis deeper into the Land of Fate, a quiet but persistent question gnawed at him.
Had he forgotten something?
Or someone?
A Role Unwritten
Zephyr sighed slowly in search of steadiness. The overwhelming characteristic of this space—the endless spools of fates weaving, celestial wheels turning—was truly overbearing.
But now, standing in the heart of it all, there was only one question bugging him.
"What is my task?" he asked, his voice calm, notwithstanding the uncertainty swirling inside.
Liora and Solis exchanged glances. It wasn't just a fleeting look; there was a silent conversation, something weighty that passed between them.
Solis, as always composed, gave the faintest nod as if to say, "Fine." Liora turned towards Zephyr, her shimmering wings twitching slightly as she thought of her words.
"Well, you're kind of a... manager," she began with a playful lilt in her voice.
Zephyr blinked.
"A manager?"
That was hardly the grand title he had expected.
Solis sighed.
"An Enforcer of Fate," he implied.
"You are in charge of supervising fate itself. Unlike us, whose fates are each fixed to specific roles, you ensure everything runs as it should-from the Weavers, who spin destiny, to its Guardians, who protect it, to its Heralds, who bring its decrees. You are the first and the last line of order here."
Zephyr frowned. "And… did someone walk this path before me?"
At this, Liora hesitated. For the first time since she had met her, she seemed lost for words. It was Solis who answered next.
"No," he said simply.
Zephyr's pulse quickened.
"No?"
Liora shrugged and her wings fluttered.
"Nope. Fate does not bring people here. This world is for fate keepers alone. Just the fact that you are here? That's unheard of."
Zephyr tried to digest that bit of news. Fate had given him that task, and this was brought into the realm outside the confines of time and space: he was, however, the only one of his kind.
"So what does that mean for me?" he posed carefully.
"It means," Solis said, his gaze unwavering,
"that your existence here is an anomaly. But Fate has chosen you, and her will is absolute. You are now part of this world. Whether or not you should be here is irrelevant-you are here and have a duty to fulfill."
Something about those words managed to make Zephyr's chest again feel hollow, as if something were missing.
But of course he could not remember why.
Liora clapped her hands together, as if to lighten the mood.
"Anyway! We're still working on your accommodation, so you'll have to wait a little bit."
Zephyr canted his head. "Working on it?"
"Yep!" Liora pointed to the front, where a horde of tiny creatures not bigger than his palm was flitting about in the air.
They had sleek, segmented bodies, like ants made out of shimmering crystal, but with delicate, translucent wings that flickered as they moved.
They zipped back and forth from one corner to another, carrying what looked like strands of pure light and weaving those strands together into towering structures that appeared out of nowhere.
"The Fate Workers," Solis said.
"They are responsible for building, maintaining, and, if necessary, destroying everything that is here."
This was the foundation upon which the Land of Fate built itself, according to Fate's will.
Zephyr watched with fascination as those tiny creatures worked together in absolute harmony, movements synchronized, like live machines.
"They don't talk," said Liora. "But they know what has to be done. You give them a task; they won't disobey."
Zephyr studied them, entranced. There was something calming in their unyielding readiness and effortless coordination; yet an unsettling thought crept into his mind.
"If they build and destroy what Fate orders…," he murmured more to himself than to them, "then what happens when something no longer serves its purpose?"
Solis met his gaze. "Then it ceases to exist." A strange chill ran through Zephyr's spine.
Liora, ever the optimist, patted his shoulder. "You know what, don't broach it too hard! You are a part of Fate's grand design now. And trust me, she never makes mistakes."
That left him bemused. He could not tell why, but those words felt as far from consolation as possible.
A Question Without an Answer
Something gnawed uneasily inside of Zephyr. The Fate Workers continued building, tirelessly weaving the very structure of his new existence. But it was wrong somehow, even the very bringing of him here, a weight of a role that had never existed before.
His golden eyes narrowed as he turned back to Liora and Solis.
"Why?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty.
Liora blinked. "Why what?"
"Why am I here? Why did Fate choose me?" He curled his fingers in his palms.
"You said Fate never brings people here. That I'm the first. This place is only for Fate Keepers. Then why did she break her own rules for me?"
For the first time, Liora looked uncomfortable. Her usual brightness faded in the light. Her wings twitched as she glanced over to Solis.
Solis remained inscrutable, however. Dark, piercing eyes met Zephyr's without a flicker of reaction.
"The will of Fate is unshakeable," he said evenly. "There is no reason beyond that. You are here because she deemed it so."
Zephyr clenched his jaws. "That isn't an answer."
Liora laughed softly. "That is the answer. Honestly, you should take it as an honor! You've been elected for something bigger than yourself; that's exciting, isn't it?"
"No," said Zephyr flatly. "It is disturbing."
Liora's wings stilled.
Solis exhaled slowly, his gaze unflinching. "Some questions do not have answers."
"That's a convenient way of saying you don't want to tell me."
In a lighter, teasing voice, Liora dished off, "Come on, get your head out of the clouds. There is nothing so mysterious about this. You have a job now, and trust me, you are going to be busy, so that is all that remarks."
Zephyr regarded them both carefully. Liora was too eager to go on. Solis was too in control.
They knew something.
And they weren't telling him.
There was a flicker of something-an emotion he could not quite name-passing through him; a vague, ghostly sensation of loss-as if something had been taken even before he had a chance to grasp it.
"What is she planning?" He murmured it more to himself than to them.
This brought Solis and Liora to an exchange of glances.
For once, Zephyr caught it.
There was a reason. There was something they weren't saying. And it wasn't just about him being the first human here.
Fate had a plan.
And he had the sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like it.