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The Khaotic Beginning
Chapter 3: Threads of Fate

Chapter 3: Threads of Fate

Isilyn

I stood there in the stillness, the woman's words echoing through my mind like an insidious drumbeat. Searching for freedom, or running from responsibility? I wanted to scream, to shout at the moon itself—because, fuck it, I was running. Running from everything. But the worst part was, I didn't know what I was running toward.

It felt like the world had me cornered. I had left the Citadel thinking I'd find something, anything, beyond the suffocating grasp of my father's expectations. But out here, I wasn't free. I was just a lost little girl in the dark. A damn royal with no crown and nowhere to belong.

The moonlight was too distant. My connection to her—my magic—felt like it was slipping through my fingers. The cool, comforting pull that had always been my tether to the universe felt fucking hollow out here. The further I went, the less I felt her. It wasn't just the forest that was closing in; it was me, suffocating under the weight of my own damn choices.

I clenched my fists, the ache in my chest tightening with every thought of my father. His cold gaze, always distant, always judging. He had never understood me. How could he? I was never what he wanted. I never could be. He never asked if I wanted to be the heir. He just... expected it. Expected me to carry that burden, that damn title that meant nothing to me.

I spat on the ground, my breath coming in sharp bursts.

"Pathetic." I muttered it again, this time bitterly. But it wasn't just the forest I was calling pathetic—it was me.

I jerked my dagger free from its sheath, the metal smooth against my palm. I hated how comforting it felt, how it calmed my shaking hand. My mother had given me this dagger, a symbol of power, of protection. But all it really was now was a reminder of the weight of expectations I couldn't outrun.

I twisted the blade in my hand, letting the cold metal bite into my palm. It was almost a relief, the pain a sharp distraction from the fucking ache in my chest.

But the sound—Gods, the sound. A snap of a twig. Something out there in the dark.

I didn't hesitate, drawing the blade in a fluid motion, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Who's there?" I called, my voice hard—forceful. I didn't care if I was alone or if they were a damn monster. I wasn't backing down.

The shadows stirred, and from them emerged a figure—a man. He was tall, cloaked in shadows, his presence sucking the air out of the space around us. His eyes glinted with something that made my skin crawl, and I could tell by the way he moved that he wasn't some random fool to be trifled with. He was dangerous.

"You shouldn't be out here, Princess," he said, his voice low, rich with menace. "This forest isn't for your kind."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling the sting of his words. "Who the fuck are you to tell me where I belong?" My voice was sharp, angry. There was no room for games anymore.

The man stepped closer, the air around him vibrating with something powerful—something ancient. "I'm the one who knows what you've been running from."

My grip tightened on the dagger, but I didn't flinch. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't answer right away, just watched me with that unsettling, knowing look.

"Your father. Your people," he said finally, each word deliberate. "You think you're free, but the chains are still there. They're just invisible now."

My stomach twisted, a flash of fury rising inside me. "Don't talk about my father like you know him," I spat. "You don't know shit."

The man chuckled softly, like he found something amusing in my anger. "You think running will solve it? You think you'll find peace out here? You're lost, Princess. You've always been lost. You're only pretending you're not."

That fucking hit hard.

"I'm not lost," I said through gritted teeth, but even I wasn't sure anymore. "I'm finding myself."

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could see right through the lies I was telling. "You think the moon will save you? She can't always light your path."

I took a step forward, my heart pounding. The moon had been my constant, my guide, the one thing that had never failed me. But this fucking forest? It made her light feel so damn far away.

"I'm not like you," I hissed, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I won't be some dark fucking puppet."

He smirked, like he'd won. Like he could see my fear, and that made me even more furious. "You're already playing their game. You're just too blind to realize it."

I lunged at him, my dagger raised, but he vanished into the shadows before I could strike. He left me standing there, seething, alone with the taste of metal on my tongue and the truth clawing at my insides.

I hated this. I hated this.

It wasn't just my father. It wasn't just the damn council or the expectations or the weight of the crown. It was everything. The moon, the darkness, the choices I couldn't seem to escape.

I took a deep breath, my grip loosening on the dagger. But the anger was still there, festering beneath my skin, and the shadows around me felt thicker now. The words the man had said—they were right. And that terrified me.

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Zarek

I stood by the window, the night air a bitter reminder of how fucking tired I was. The city stretched out below me, a sea of lights and shadows that would soon be swallowed whole by the war we'd bring down on it. I ran my fingers along the edge of the stone, the coolness grounding me, but I could still feel the heat of the room, the weight of Korrin's stare, burning into the back of my neck.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

They thought I was the answer. The strategist. The leader. The one who could pull us out of this endless cycle of violence. But they didn't know shit about me. They didn't know the fucking toll this had all taken.

I turned back to face the room, to face the men who looked at me like I was their salvation. My eyes flicked over them, their faces hard, eager, ready to spill blood for something they barely understood. I used to believe in the cause. Hell, I did believe in it. But now? Now it felt like we were just playing at something bigger than ourselves. Something we couldn't control.

Korrin was still standing there, his arms crossed, waiting for me to make the decision. I could tell he was pissed off, his jaw clenched like a damn vise. He wasn't used to being questioned, especially not by me. He didn't get it. None of them did. They thought this war was about winning cities, rebuilding what had been stolen. But all we were doing was stacking bodies until we couldn't even remember who the hell we were fighting for.

"What's the point of all this, Zarek?" Korrin finally asked, his voice strained. He wasn't even trying to hide the frustration anymore. "You're the one who said we needed to fight for a cause, for something bigger than just revenge. We're here now, and you're fucking second-guessing everything."

I stepped toward him, my boots making a soft thud against the wooden floor. "Second-guessing?" I repeated, my voice low, a sneer pulling at the corner of my mouth. "I'm not second-guessing. I'm questioning whether we've even got a fucking cause left. You think this is about taking back what was stolen from us? You think it's about rebuilding the world?" I leaned in, my eyes locking with his, the space between us charged with unspoken anger. "We're not rebuilding shit, Korrin. We're just playing the same damn game they played. And in the end, we'll be the ones in their position—just a different fucking face on the same pile of corpses."

I turned away, walking to the table and slamming my hand down on the map. The bloodstains that marred it seemed to mock me.

"We're no different," I muttered, my voice barely audible, "no different than the monsters we fight. This isn't about rebuilding. It's about power. It's about vengeance. And we're all too fucking blind to see it."

The room was quiet now. The silence thick, hanging over us like a storm that refused to break. They were waiting for me to lead them, to show them the way forward. But all I could see was a path paved with destruction, one that led us further into the darkness we were trying to escape.

"You've got it all wrong," Korrin said, his voice tight with restrained anger. "We're fighting for the future. For our people."

"Are we?" I turned back to him, the edge of my voice colder than before. "Or are we just fighting so we can take their place?"

His expression faltered for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced with the same resolve he always had. The same blind loyalty that kept him from questioning the motives of the cause.

I sighed, the weight of everything pressing down on me. My soldiers. My people. The cause. I had to keep going. I had to keep pushing forward, even if it didn't make sense anymore. Because what else was there?

I gave Korrin a long look before turning back to the map, my fingers tracing the edges of the bloodstains. "Fine," I said, my voice low, defeated. "We strike at dawn. But don't expect me to pretend this is anything more than a fucking bloodbath."

The commanders exchanged uneasy glances, but no one challenged me. They never did.

I stepped back from the table, my mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. I wasn't sure anymore if we were fighting for a better world or if we were just dragging ourselves deeper into the one we'd created. And God help me, I wasn't sure I cared.

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Dravena

I hadn't expected him to just disappear after his cryptic warning. But that's exactly what happened—the man slipped back into the shadows, as if he'd never been there. I stood there, feeling like an idiot, staring at the empty space where his presence had been so palpable moments before.

"Chaos isn't a toy, girl," his words echoed in my mind, a taunting reminder of the danger I was walking into.

Yeah, no shit.

But what the hell did he expect me to do? Walk away? Let this ancient, cursed magic control me again? Hell, I'd been running from it for years, and yet here it was—calling to me like a siren. Like it was the one thing that would ever truly understand me.

Fuck that.

I gripped the staff at my side, the chaos magic crackling beneath my skin. It was like a living thing inside me, alive, hungry, and pissed off. But I had control now. I had to. Because if I didn't, it would be just like last time—just like the goddamn storm that had ruined my life.

I pushed forward through the temple, the air thick with the residue of centuries-old magic. Every step I took felt like a pull deeper into the unknown, and the closer I got to the heart of this forsaken place, the more I could feel the magic awakening.

It wanted me.

It needed me.

And damn it, I wasn't afraid of it.

Not anymore.

But I couldn't lie to myself. There was a part of me—the part I buried deep—that wanted to unleash the chaos again. Let the storm rage, let it break the walls, let it tear everything apart. It had felt good. It had felt powerful.

I stopped short, the thought hanging in the air. Powerful. What did that even mean anymore? Power that came at the cost of everything I'd ever known? The destruction of my village? The ruin of my future?

Fuck that. I wasn't that girl anymore.

Still, a part of me—an ugly, raw part—wanted to let it out. To break free and let the storm burn everything to the ground.

No. Control. That's what I had come here for. To master it, not be consumed by it.

I kept moving deeper into the temple, ignoring the urge to turn around and run. The walls whispered with old magic, ancient and fucking dangerous. But it wasn't new to me. It was a part of me—of the chaos that flowed through my veins, that thrummed in my bones.

The deeper I went, the more I could feel it—like something was waiting. Watching. Biding its time.

"Dammit," I muttered, almost to myself. "I didn't come here to get swallowed by this shit."

A sudden crash broke the silence, sending a jolt through my spine. My hand flew to my dagger, the magic inside me flaring in anticipation.

"Show yourself," I snapped, the words coming out harsher than I meant.

But there was no answer. Only silence. And when I rounded the corner, I wasn't met with an enemy. I wasn't met with anything at all.

I froze.

The floor was cracked, deep fissures spreading through the stone like a wound. And in the center of the room, a pedestal stood, dark and ancient, with a faint, glowing light hovering above it. The power in the air was overwhelming—old, potent, familiar. It called to me like a lost lover.

I stepped forward, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it—the reason I had come, the artifact that could finally give me the control I craved.

But with every step, the pressure grew. It was too much. Too heavy.

I was standing at the edge of something I didn't fully understand—and that terrified me.

"Am I ready for this?" I whispered to no one in particular, though I wasn't sure I even wanted an answer.

The chaos magic inside me swirled, as if it was laughing at my hesitation. Fuck you, I thought. I was done with the doubt. I wasn't going to turn back.

I reached out.

The moment my fingers brushed the pedestal, everything in the room went still. A flash of white-hot energy shot through me, every nerve in my body alive with the power coursing through the air. It was a moment of clarity—a moment of absolute certainty.

And then, a deep voice, dark and cold, echoed through the chamber.

"Chaos will consume you."

I let out a breath, steadying myself as I glared into the darkness. "Let it."