Rota Fortunae

by Isu Yin

  She debated whether he was as amiable as he first appeared. “Okay, tell me about the book you’re holding.”

  “It’s an old fable from Undal called The Story of Night and Day.”

  “You think Undal was a real place? Then you must have some theories about how it fell.”

  He paused with his hand against the cover of the book. “I’ve heard a lot of rumors, but few I believe.”

  “What do you believe?”

  “It has been recorded that there was at least one occasion when Calamity struck both sides of the Empire almost simultaneously. There is speculation that the Fallen caused it, but none can prove it. At least, no one wants to prove it.”

  “The Fallen are the Tainted, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Can you tell me about them?”

  Though most considered tales of Undal a myth, the Council had ascertained the existence of the Tainted, conceivably out of fear or obligation.

  Hero processed Fate’s question for a long time and averted his gaze. “Knowledge is available to all those who seek it, Lady Fate.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “I’m not an encyclopedia. If you wish to learn, the study upstairs is accessible.”

  Why does he avoid my question?

  She leaned over to one side and stole a glance at his face, which still showed no sign of emotion or interest, except for the flicker of amusement she noticed when she mentioned the Wayward Prince. “Do you mean to say that I can come again?”

  “When time permits.”

  “Can you read the book?”

  “I can, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Her facial muscles instinctively formed a smile to hide her irritation. “Please.”

  He nodded again in approval, and opened the colorfully painted picture book.

  “I didn’t expect you to read this type of book,” she said.

  “My father dislikes fiction. He finds it impractical, and he especially detests tales about Undal.”

  She ran her fingers over an image of a girl wearing a white dress, the same color as the girl’s long, flowing hair. Clouds formed around her in soft strokes of fuchsia, black, blue, and violet. “That’s kind of sad. The images are beautiful.”

  “I’ve kept it stashed away since I was a child.”

  “We’re the same age, right? You’re fifteen?”

  “Yeah. Did Abyssus tell you?”

  “He tells me a lot about you.” Fate remembered that his birthday came shortly after hers every turn—the day before the winter solstice.

  “Probably not everything, but why is my age relevant?”

  She carefully took the book from his hands and turned the cover towards him. “I was just admiring how well you’ve taken care of your book. It must be older than you, and it still looks new.”

  His mouth quirked back on one side, forming something similar to a half smile. “Shall I read it to you?”

  Now and then, she got the impression that her choice of words saved her. “Hmm....” She opened it and let him hold the back cover. “Let’s read it together.”

  Through careful inspection, she discerned the state of his family life. His father certainly never demonstrated the care Hero needed. In that regard, Niteo appeared to express even less affection towards Hero than Neco had towards Abyssus.

  In this way, she wanted to bring some joy into Hero’s life, as she was certain Abyssus had done. “I’ll start.” She cleared her throat. “Long, long ago there were two worlds, a world of light and a world of darkness.” She turned the page.

  This time the image was split. One page displayed the girl in the world from the first page, and the second displayed a dark-haired boy standing in a cluster of pastel-colored clouds.

  Hero read next. “The world of darkness was ruled by a goddess, and the world of light by a god. Their names were Luna and Syo.”

  She turned the next page to see the god and goddess reaching past the binding of the book to hold hands. “Luna and Syo fell deeply in love. More than anything, they cherished the miracles and madness that occurred in each other’s presence.” The following page showed Luna and Syo on one page, looking at a red-haired figure surrounded by spiraling clouds. “However, the Creator of the two worlds eventually brought upon a younger existence— mortals.”

  In the next section, the clouds parted to show a crowd of people walking in different directions. The Creator reappeared, divided between two pages. Hero read again. “The Creator asked Luna and Syo to care of the mortals, because they were all his children.” As he read, he seemed to emerge from his shell and express a deeply founded belief in the tale and in Undal.

  Fate figured he viewed it as more of a scripture than a fable, as she turned to an image of strange rippling darkness. Luna and Syo were once again on separate pages holding hands, but each had one tear coming from one of their eyes.

  Since she had stopped reading, Hero continued. “But the chaos caused by Luna and Syo’s love hurt the mortals. In order to give them a chance at survival, Luna and Syo promised to part.”

  Luna and Syo reached out to each other through a wash of blue space and white stars.

  He read the next page. “They promised that they would be the night and day of the mortal’s lives, the very means of their survival. They would forever be like ships passing in the night.”

  The last page contained a small poem:

  And the goddess kissed the sun,

  Before taking her plight,

  For there was no true love fonder than night.

  Hero closed the book. “The original was a poem. It’s a very old tale. This one was translated and painted, but the last line was so famous that they kept it.”

  Fate nodded. “They say that a person’s taste in literature tells a lot about their ideals and interests. This is the second time you’ve shared this type of heart-wrenching story with me.”

  He hid the book somewhere behind one of the shelves. “Maybe you’re not getting the message.”

  She felt obligated to ask what message he was trying to convey through his storytelling. “Okay, so what about this one? Is there a reason you’re drawn to it?”

  “I had two friends named after the God and Goddess.”

  “Had?”

  He nodded, just once, and remained facing the bookshelves.

  She rested a hand against the arm of the chair. “What happened to them?”

  “I killed them.”

  Fate’s heart sank in her chest. The logical side of her wanted to ask questions to make sense of Hero’s declaration of murder. She had only one deduction. “The Astor Tournament.”

  His gaze cast over her carefully, and he frowned. “Good guess.”

  She had already prepared her next question, but a knock emanated from the door opposite of where they first entered.

  He presented his ‘U’ smile. “Looks like they’re ready.”

  “Ready?”

  He took Fate by the wrist, led her to the door, and opened it to reveal a crowd full of servants gathered in the main hall.

  They greeted her unanimously. “Welcome to Nitor Palace!” The rest of the hall teemed with musicians and tables packed with luxurious hors d’oeuvres.

  She drew back a breath. “A party?” Someone tapped on her shoulder, and as she turned, her brother waved. “Abyssus!”

  “This is the Nitor treatment,” he said, pointing at Hero. “Or should I call it the Hero treatment?”

  The servants started the music and festivities without instruction and proceeded to play and dance as they pleased. As before, they seemed to ignore their guests and Hero just the same.

  Fate had never seen palace servants behave so freely. “They’re allowed to do that?”

  Hero replied, “My father isn’t here, so why not?”

  So this is Hero’s decision.

  Lara soon discovered him and pulled his arm. “Dance with me!”

  “I have guests,” he said.

  Abyssus
sneered at Lara. He had a habit of expressing himself more than others liked, especially when he disliked someone.

  What did she do to him?

  Hero slipped free of Lara’s grasp. “How about we play a round of Rota Fortunae?”

  Fate blinked rapidly. “Rota Fortunae?”

  “It’s a game from Undal.”

  She pursed her lips and reminded herself that scrutinizing the mythology of Undal would serve no purpose.

  “Then we need a blindfold!” Abyssus said.

  Hero glanced at the ribbon around the waist of Fate’s dress. “Can we borrow that?”

  “Um... sure.”

  He took it between two fingers, untied it, and then turned to Lara. “Are you joining?”

  Her eyes sparkled at his suggestion. “Of course!”

  Abyssus shook his hands in a façade of joyous celebration. “Ohh, yay, Lara’s playing.”

  She glowered at him from behind Hero’s shoulder.

  What in the world is going on between these two?

  Hero overlooked their blatant battle, led everyone past the dining table, and exited the palace. As they stepped across the pavement into the yard, they approached a garden of ice roses that stretched from corner to corner of the yard. Beyond that, a labyrinth rested, still and covered by frost.

  Frozen flowers, just like that one time.

  Abyssus concealed a smirk with his hand. “So, who’s going to be the Calamity?”

  Fate broke her trance of awe and returned her attention to the group. “The Calamity?”

  Hero explained. “In history, the Calamity was believed to be an Oracle able to see with the Eyes of the Abyss.”

  “The what?”

  He pressed a hand to his chin. “Think of it as a filter that allows you to see into an ethereal realm— it gives clarity to things the average eye can’t see.”

  “How does it work in the game?”

  “One person is blindfolded. That person takes the role of Calamity, whose job is to ‘taint’ other people who come close.”

  Abyssus added, “First, the Calamity is isolated, then we all clap and sing the Spinning Song.”

  Fate rubbed her head. “What’s the Spinning Song?”

  Hero answered again, since no one else seemed to know. “The Spinning Song comes from an old tale, Rota Fortunae, which was written in the Book of Ages. The tale was passed through Undal and, eventually, children turned it into a game.”

  “What was the song used for?”

  “It was suggested to be a method of picking out the next Fated.”

  “Fated? This is surprisingly complex for a children’s game.”

  He smiled unexpectedly. “Only if you didn’t study. According to the writings of Grim, the Fated were people infected by the Tainted. Anyone who became Fated died of illness or unfortunate circumstances.”

  He’s being snarky with me, but why is he even telling me this so willingly? Isn’t he the one who said he’s not an encyclopedia?

  Lara grumbled. “Back to the game. If she doesn’t understand the rules, maybe she should just sit it out and watch.”

  Hero disregarded her spiteful comment. “So, as I was saying, in the game the Calamity has to touch people to taint them. Once someone is tainted, they can taint other people. The object of the game is to either taint all of the free players, or touch the Calamity.”

  Abyssus chimed in. “We can play in the labyrinth. The Calamity will start by the pagoda.”

  Lara let out a low sigh. “I think the Lady Fate should play the Calamity.”

  “I agree,” Hero said, tying the ribbon around Fate’s eyes.

  What? Why me?

  He responded as though he somehow perceived her thoughts. “Because you are the least familiar with the rules and it somehow seems fitting.”

  They proceeded into the labyrinth while Abyssus and Lara waited outside for the game to start.

  The leaves around Fate rustled and the chill of the winter air stung her cheeks. “Is it just me, or is it colder in here?”

  Hero’s voice carried a hint of amusement. “It’s darker, too.”

  “To be honest, I have a really bad sense of direction, so I’m a little worried.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  They stopped in the depths of the labyrinth.

  He stepped away, but his presence hung in the air for a time. “When we begin the song, you have to start spinning. Take it easy, as you have to continue doing this until the song is over.” He waited a moment then added, “There are twelve verses.”

  “Do I leave the ribbon over my eyes?”

  “Take it off when the song is over.”

  She didn’t know her surroundings well enough to feel comfortable standing alone, so she put out her arms to feel for anything nearby.

  “Safe journeys, Mistress.”

  “Eh, what?”

  Abyssus’ voice trailed from a distance. “Are you ready?”

  Hero’s aura dissipated from the space ahead, and the clapping of the spinning song echoed through the labyrinth. The three free players sang:

  Spinning, spinning wheel of fate,

  Which one shall you choose?

  A sinner from the shadows,

  Shall you win or shall you lose?

  Fate kept her head still and focused as she spun. Her dance practices helped more now than she had ever suspected. As she turned, she imagined what the world might look like through the Eyes of the Abyss.

  The song echoed further in the distance:

  Turning, turning wheel of fate,

  The spokes are slowing down.

  Hush, the demon’s dance is ending,

  Don’t you make a sound.

  In the darkness of the blindfold, the world pulled away. Every sound around her grew faint, and even the ground and sky stretched far out of reach. She reasoned that she must’ve been dizzy, that she was losing her touch with her surroundings due to her inability to see.

  The final verse sounded distant, a mere echo beyond a glass wall:

  Stopping, stopping wheel of fate,

  She tiptoes through the crowd.

  If you hear her whisper,

  You are Fated now.

  When the song ended, she put out her hands. The darkness drew her deeper, away from the life of the game. The trance had gone too far, as if she had slipped from consciousness.

  She pulled off her blindfold.

  A haze fell over the labyrinth from a sudden gathering of clouds. Dust-like particles polluted the crisp winter air. There was no wind, just a sting from the intensity of the cold.

  She moved forward, rubbing her arms. “Hero? Abyssus!” The end of the first path branched off in two different directions, left and forward. She brushed her fingers against the hedge and followed it towards the left.

  Utter silence hung around her. Not even the leaves rustled when she touched them. She crept around the bend and stopped to listen, but there was nothing. The entire world had come to a stop.

  The air seemed to wrap around her as she stood and stared into the fog. Something told her to go back. Some deep instinct arose, and she spun back to return to the pagoda.

  As she turned, she met face to face with a crouched figure.

  A pair of hollowed-out eyes stared at her. Parts of the figure appeared similar to those of a person, namely its legs and long, mangled arms, but its body seemed to be made of darkness, like a disfigured shadow, or something that once was—something no longer of the mortal realm.

  Fate pressed her hands over her mouth to mask her breathing.

  The creature sat still and unreceptive, as though waiting for her to do something.

  She glanced around the labyrinth, searching for a way to avoid the creature’s gaze. As before, there was nothing. She inched backwards, keeping her eyes fixed on the creature, and safely arrived at the end of the path.

  Once there, she stole a final glance and hurried around the bend, but as her head turned forward, she stopped in front of another c
rouched creature. She checked the last path, where the first creature remained in its position, and realized the creatures had blocked her path.

  Determined to escape, she flattened herself against the hedge and crept by the second creature, holding her breath as she moved.

  The creature twisted its head to listen. Somehow, it had noticed her movement, and its body creaked as it lurched into a standing position. Its arms hung limply past its bent knees.

  She pressed her hands hard against her face and tried sinking into the hedge to hide, but she could move no further.

  The creature shot out at her, swinging its arms, and its jaw unhinged to unleash a bone-chilling screech.

  Her darkness whooshed past her violently, lashing out into points, and she clutched her head, balling up inside the shadows for defense. Her whole body jolted in terror, and the sky shrank into a rush of small black dots.

  Fate snapped her eyes open and a white light flooded her vision.

  Hero looked down at her again, his eyes seeming to glow against his light features. “Are you all right?”

  Her heart pounded so hard, she thought it might split open her chest. “What happened?”

  “You collapsed.”

  She forced herself upright and checked the changed environment. The room around her was painfully white and filled with many beds. A trace of medicine stung her nose. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember anything after I pulled off the blindfold.” She rubbed her brow. “I was having a nightmare, but it was so real. I don’t know when I collapsed.”

  “Are you sick?” He reached out to check her temperature.

  She gripped his wrist. Her next question escaped like a gasp, as she found it difficult to breathe. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

  “My hand?” He opened it wide then turned it from front to back. A black stain covered his palm and fingers like soot. It wasn’t just on one hand either; his other hand had the same stain. His lips turned down slightly. “Is there something wrong with it?”

  She shook her head. “You don’t see it?”

  “See what?”

  She opened her own hands, which glowed faintly with white dust.

  He withdrew his hand to his lap, analyzing her intently from a chair beside the bed. “What do you see?”