A NEW BEGINNING

The Path of the Forechosen

He who walks the Path of Fate never walks alone.

His steps are guided by higher forces, his deeds the fulfillment of the Will.

Therefore, seek no doubt in the eyes of the Fatekeeper, for he knows.

Everything that happens was meant to be.

Everything he takes was never truly yours.

Everything you are left with is a blessing.

A Fatekeeper is no violator. He is merely an instrument.

And instruments are not to be pitied.

– from a manuscript found in the ruins of Emtara, page 14

Ela, Kanice

Ela was trying to find the most comfortable spot she could between two sacks full of something unidentifiable and some crates that jabbed her sharply in the back at every bump. Ked was sitting across from her, leaning against the railing of the cargo bed, passing the time by whittling a stick with a small knife. Unlike her, he didn’t look like he was missing anything.

She studied him carefully and had to admit that he too had changed quite a bit since their paths parted in Karhen Rouz.

He had lost weight, which made his cheekbones stand out and gave his expression a predatory edge. A reddish stubble was growing on his burned face, the same color as their hair, which might have lent him a certain ruggedness, but given his overall scruffy appearance, he looked more like an unkempt brute. When she’d met him in Brooks’s company, she’d had the impression for a moment that maybe he had become a better man. But here, among Gramp’s group, where he truly belonged, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

“What are you staring at me for?” he snapped, glancing up from his stick and knife.

Ela was amused by his reaction, her lips twitching with a faint smile.

“You look pretty worn out. I almost wouldn’t recognize you. I guess the life with Gramp didn’t turn out how you pictured it, because you sure don’t look content.”

“None of your damn business,” he shot back and scowled at her.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugged. “I just hope you at least regret what you did, because you screwed up all our lives.”

Ked didn’t respond. He just turned away and watched the road slipping by behind them.

“Thought so,” she sneered and adjusted the scarf on her head, trying to keep her hair covered. It was a makeshift solution meant to keep her from drawing unnecessary attention, something that happened all too often with her long red hair. Now it was tied back and hidden under a piece of cloth that reeked of mildew. She had swapped her mediator’s uniform for a similarly foul-smelling outfit, so when she climbed into the truck bed to leave, Ked had burst out laughing at the sight of her. But now he wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Are you thinking about what you’ll say to your father?” she asked, and Ked made the exact face she expected.

“What the hell would I even say to him?”

“Maybe it would be enough to say you’re sorry.”

“Pfft!” he spat and angrily kicked the sack she was leaning against, making it clear just how little patience he had left. “I’m not sorry for anything. If I had the chance, I’d do everything the same. Or maybe even better. At the very least, I’d make sure you didn’t slip out of Karhen Rouz so easily. Same goes for Reng. I still can’t believe no one stopped you. A disgraceful failure.”

Ela shook her head in disgust. Ked’s words hurt, maybe, but she tried to believe he didn’t really mean them. He wanted to wound her, she could see it in his eyes, but it was childish even for him. And she knew there was no point trying to argue with him. He never listened. He lived in his pitiful little world where everything was everyone else’s fault and he was always right.

“You’re still the same brat,” she said quietly at last, but her voice carried so much bitterness that it made Ked look straight at her. “You think if you keep saying you don’t regret anything, it’ll somehow become true? You know damn well how many people suffered because of you. How many died. Were you there when they hanged the councilmen in Karhen Rouz? Did you enjoy the full fruits of your little revolution, or did you run away like a coward? You knew those people, Ked. They were there before you were even born. They didn’t do anything but try to make Karhen Rouz more than just some forgotten dump out west. And you helped string them up in the square.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he growled, finally setting the knife aside and tossing away the whittled stick. “As if you were any better than me. But your hands are just as dirty as mine. Maybe even dirtier, considering how deep you were involved with those Alters. And now you’re sitting here pretending you’ve got the right to judge me. Forget it.”

Ela rubbed her forehead. “At least I’m trying to change something. And what are you doing? Hiding behind Gramp and playing his little servant. Is that your life now? Is this what you wanted? Just scraping by, day after day? No future, no belief in anything real?”

Ked laughed, but there was nothing joyful in the sound. “We each play our own game, little sister. You play savior of the world. I play survival. And guess what? I’m doing just fine so far. How about you?”

Ela looked up at him, and for a moment her eyes flared with a mix of anger and disappointment. “Life isn’t just about surviving, Ked. Maybe someday you’ll figure that out. But I’m afraid by then it’ll be too late.”

Ked didn’t answer. He just reached for the knife again and started whittling another piece of wood, like he could slice the conversation off mid-air. Ela leaned against the sack and closed her eyes. Maybe she should’ve kept quiet, but she couldn’t help it. Sometimes the silence between them was worse than their arguments.

“What about Reng?” she finally asked. Her voice was softer, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. “Have you thought about what you’d say to him if you saw him again?”

Ked hesitated, the knife pausing mid-motion. Finally he shrugged. “What would I even say to him. He probably burned up down south and you’re just clinging to false hope.”

Ela lowered her head and clasped her hands in her lap. She desperately hoped Ked was wrong, but at the same time, it was about time to start thinking about what would come next if people like him turned out to be right.

The truck kept rattling along the dusty road, which was slowly turning into a more worn, and thus smoother, path.

Kanice was already in sight.

Even though their rooftops glimmered faintly in the setting sun, the mood had shifted. Signs of life began to appear by the roadside. A few scattered fields, lone children playing by the homes of small farms. But before they could reach the settlement itself, Gramp began to slow down.

“Both of you, get ready,” he shouted to the back of the truck when he spotted a group of uniformed figures at the town’s entrance.

Ela pulled her scarf tighter and quickly checked her makeshift clothing. Ked beside her just smirked and leaned back comfortably against the truck’s railing. “Nervous? You should be. You’re definitely on the wanted list.”

“Shut up,” Ela hissed. “Don’t forget it’s in your interest too that they don’t recognize me.”

The truck slowed and eventually came to a stop when the patrol signaled with a raised hand to kill the engine. Four guards in uniforms with polished insignias stood in exaggeratedly confident poses. One of them, clearly the commander, stepped up to the driver’s window.

“Papers,” he ordered curtly.

Gramp handed over his documents without a word. Ela guessed they were under a false name and origin, because the commander only glanced at them briefly before handing them back.

“What are you transporting?” he asked, his eyes drifting to the cargo in the back.

“Bags of bukar root,” Gramp replied calmly. “And some scrap we found. We're taking it to market.”

“And the passengers?” the commander asked.

“Day labor,” Gramp said. “You know how it is. I’m not young anymore, and these two are strong. Fatekeepers, sure, but they work without whining, despite their usual nonsense.”

The commander stepped toward the truck bed and scrutinized the two siblings. Ked handed over his documents without hesitation.

“That’s my wife,” Ked added with a grin, slinging an arm around Ela’s shoulders to pull her close, as if to reinforce the story. The guard’s gaze paused briefly on her scarf, then slid down to her face. She was pale and avoided his eyes, exactly as they had agreed beforehand.

The guard currently checking the papers Ked had obediently handed over raised an eyebrow and glanced again at Ela, who sat hunched beside one of the sacks. Her face was partly hidden by the scarf, eyes cast downward, as if she didn’t even want to acknowledge the world around her.

“She has no papers,” the guard noted with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Ked shot him a look full of disgust and contempt. He leaned in closer, face twisted in righteous fury, spitting into his own ginger beard.

“Of course she doesn’t!” he bellowed, his voice booming like thunder. “She’s a woman! What the hell would she need papers for? She knows what she’s supposed to do. Work, spread her legs, and birth children! That’s her Fate-given purpose, not wandering around the world with documents in her hand. Just like Fate intended for women!”

Ela didn’t flinch, but inside she felt the slow crawl of fear rising through her. She clenched her fists in her lap and fought to stay calm as Ked launched into his theatrical tirade.

“And may every deviation from obedient order be punished!” he added with fanatical emphasis, as if sealing some sacred law.

He swept his gaze from the guard to the others standing silently behind him. “Or are you questioning Fate? Or the purpose it gave us, the true believers?”

The guard cleared his throat, visibly unsettled by the unexpected question.

“No... I’m not. Of course not,” he said slowly, glancing uneasily at his colleague. “But... you know, the rules, they’ve got to be...”

“Rules exist to protect decent folks like us, not to question the natural order!” Ked waved dismissively toward Ela, as if ending the conversation then and there. “This is my wife. My responsibility. And if someone’s got a problem with her lack of documents, then that problem’s mine and I’ll deal with it right now!”

With that, he turned to Ela and, without warning, slapped her hard across the face, making her yelp in pain. It wasn’t the blow that hurt her most, but the realization that her brother wasn’t just playing the role, he might have been enjoying it. As if it wasn’t the first time...

The guard raised his hands to stop Ked. “No, no... that won’t be necessary. Just... go on. But next time, maybe keep her more out of sight, so we don’t have any misunderstandings,” he mumbled, waving to his colleague to indicate everything was fine and they could pass.

Ked snorted and turned back to Ela with a look of scorn.

“You hear that, woman? You cause problems and then act surprised when you get what’s coming to you,” he growled, sealing the scene with a final touch of realism.

Ela kept her gaze down, curling up where she sat as the truck moved into the town. Rage simmered in her chest, but she suppressed every emotion on her face to keep the act intact.

As they drove past the checkpoint, Ela could feel the guards’ eyes on her back. Only when they were far enough away did she allow herself to unclench her hands. Ked leaned against the railing beside her and chuckled.

“You play the submissive wife pretty well. Want to keep it for good?”

Ela shot him a sharp look and silently vowed to return that slap with full force when the time came. Instead, she turned to Gramp.

“How far is the place we’ll be sleeping at?”

“A few streets from here. Just a small, inconspicuous inn,” Gramp replied. “They’re not in the habit of asking too many questions, but even so, just to be safe, try to keep quiet.”

Ela nodded with resignation, but in her mind, she had already decided. Tomorrow, once they were back on the road, Ked was going to hear from her.

***

Within minutes, Ela was curled up at a table in the darkest corner of the inn’s dining room. Here they could vanish into the shadows, out of sight and interest of the others. The air in the room was heavy, saturated with the scent of greasy meat and smoke from the fire crackling in the hearth. Ked and Gramp were leaning over the table, discussing plans for the next day while everyone waited far longer than expected for their dinner to arrive.

When it was finally placed in front of her, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. In the bowl sat a thick mash made from greenroot, drowned in hot broth, accompanied by a slice of bread harder than she would have liked. Still, she ate. Silently, eyes down, chewing every bite slowly while watching their surroundings with careful attention.

By the fire sat some locals. A group of men who had already drunk enough for one of them to slump forward with his head on the table. And then there was the infovision. One of the older models, its screen nearly blind, but the sound was still clear enough for her to catch every word.

The broadcast had just shifted from an ad to a muted audio loop accompanied by an image of Prim in early morning dusk. The camera circled around the central tower, a color-adjusted filter brushing the reflections into warm hues as if it were a postcard and not the city she knew.

“In response to the emergency events on the southern front, the City Council of Prim announces the temporary transfer of crisis command to the head of the Security Committee, Councilor Valis Noret.”

The movement in the room slowed slightly. Just for a moment. One of the men by the hearth lifted his eyes from his mug and muttered, “Well I’ll be damned”

“Councilor Brooks has been officially relieved of his duties after departing the city. His current whereabouts are unknown. Authorities are also considering the declaration of a heightened alert status.”

She gripped her spoon. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Gramp, who remained perfectly calm as if he had known all along what was coming. Ked slowly looked around the inn and inconspicuously pulled his plate closer as if at that moment guarding his food was more important than any words.

“Councilor Noret stated that the citizens have nothing to fear.

The relationship between the Council and the Beacon needs cleansing and we will deliver it,” he was quoted as saying in his speech today.

Operations on the Terraces are currently ongoing, targeting individuals associated with Councilor Brooks. A similar statement was issued by the Beacon, which has announced a search for a missing mediator. It believes she was abducted and may currently be in danger.

More information to follow.

Silence fell. Not from the infovision, which continued monotonously listing data and names no one really cared about anymore, but in the inn there was a strange, quiet constriction. The men by the hearth said nothing.

“This reeks of serious trouble,” someone muttered from the far corner.

“I’ve always said Fate has a twisted sense of humor,” Ked chuckled softly, just loud enough for their table to hear. “It’s an honor to make the list. Welcome to the ranks of the outcasts.”

Ela said nothing. She raised her eyes to the screen, but the awful display quality thankfully made it impossible for anyone to recognize her from it. Still, it was clear that all across Raj there were infovisions where her face would show up much more clearly. She was no longer just lost. She was wanted. Missing. Marked.

That meant she had to be even more careful. They might have to give up the comfort of a clean bed and start avoiding civilization altogether.

Just then the door to the inn burst open with a loud bang and a young man stumbled in, his coat filthy, face flushed from running, breath ragged as he struggled to speak. He leaned against the doorframe, panting heavily, eyes flicking feverishly around the room.

“Guards,” he finally managed between gasps. “They’re outside. At the gate. Arguing with an Alter.”

The innkeeper looked up from his mug with a sour expression.

“What nonsense are you babbling, boy?” he barked and stood up as if ready to throw the lad out himself.

“I’m not babbling” the boy jumped back to the door, waving his arms like mad. “It’s a modificant. Looks like a ghost. Dressed all in black armor. Face paler than the moon. Dead eyes. The guards barely said a word. You could tell they were scared stiff.”

The noise in the inn dropped to a grave silence in a single heartbeat. Several heads turned. Glasses stopped clinking on tables. Even the fire in the hearth seemed to pause.

Ela froze, eyes fixed on the table. She didn’t move a muscle. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gramp go rigid and slowly pull his hand away from his mug. Ked only lowered his head, and there was a flash in his eyes, somewhere between amusement and dread.

“Did he say anything?” asked a man quietly from the next table.

“Not much,” the boy shook his head. “Just said he’s looking for something.”

That was enough. Some of the patrons started to rise. Others tried to act casual. But no one was calm anymore.

Gramp leaned closer to the table and muttered under his breath, “We need to go. Right now. Forget everything. We leave.”

Ela nodded and tried not to notice how her hands were shaking. Her mind was already racing through the worst possibilities. Black armor. Death in the eyes. Unknown target. Hunters sent by the Beacon.

“Do you think they’re after us?” she whispered.

Ked gave her a short glance, full of irony. “You can ask them yourself.”

“Quiet,” snapped Gramp sharply. “We’re leaving. No talking.”

Just moments later the truck was rattling across uneven ground heading west. As darkness settled in, Gramp turned off the road and kept maneuvering through the muddy landscape until they reached a place where it was at least relatively dry enough to sleep.

Ela jumped down from the bed of the truck and yanked the scarf off her head in a single motion. Sweat mixed with anger on her forehead. Ked’s boots hit the ground beside her and before he could react her palm slapped him across the face.

He blinked in surprise. Even in the dim light the pain glittered in his eyes. But it quickly turned to fury.

“Touch me like that again and…” she began hotly, but Ked grabbed her wrist and shoved her roughly.

“And what? What can you do to me?” he hissed. A red handprint was already forming on his face.

“Enough. Both of you,” roared Gramp and shoved them apart. “We are not here to slap each other around. If you act like children, this ends before it even starts.”

Ela was breathing hard. Ked turned away with clenched jaw and stormed off a few steps. Gramp just shook his head slowly.

“He was acting,” he tried to defend him. But Ela’s look said more than any reply. Gramp accepted that without protest. He knew people too well to not recognize how complicated things could be between siblings.

He focused instead on lighting the fire. When the flames finally caught, the three of them sat in silence, wrapped in heavy blankets, staring into the glow. No one spoke, because there was nothing to say. Any words would only give voice to the fear sitting between them.

“Tomorrow we leave the roads,” Gramp said at last, breaking the silence. “We cannot risk being recognized or betrayed. Not now when they are this close.”

Ked gave a brief nod.

“They already know where we’re headed,” Ela reminded quietly. “It is not a coincidence they’re on the same path.”

“Everyone who knows you knows that,” Gramp snorted. “That’s why I told you to forget about your home and rethink your plans. They’ve never found us. You clearly won’t be so hard to find.”

Ela didn’t reply. Instead she tilted her head back and watched the sparks rising toward the night sky where they vanished among the stars. Up there everything was calm. Shining lights that paid no attention to the people below who searched for direction or forgiveness or just a chance to start again.

She wondered if Reng might be sitting under that same sky somewhere. If he was looking up at the same constellations. She thought of their nighttime trips to the barn roof, of their mother’s stories written among the stars, and suddenly it became hard to even breathe. She missed him so much.

Gramp was watching her but said nothing. He didn’t need to. He could tell she wasn’t going to back down.

“Stubborn like her old man,” he muttered softly and placed the last log onto the flickering fire.