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Memoirs 373 - Fatekiller
🕑 Added 2025-07-06 21:23:05 +0000 UTCScarlett watched the woman closely. “Kill Fate?” she repeated.
Yamina nodded once.
Scarlett stayed silent. The sea of gold around them almost seemed to thrum, as if to mirror the enormity of what had just been said.
Her gaze dropped to the shimmering threads beneath their feet, then to the fractured island ahead, pulsing like an open wound. “…When you say Fate… Do you mean to destroy that?” She motioned forward. “The fracture?”
She had to ask, though the answer seemed obvious enough. Yamina had just described the fracture as a threat to the world itself. It only made sense that it had to be dealt with in some way.
And yet, a small part of her hoped that wasn’t all the woman meant.
Yamina followed her eyes. “Yes.”
That small part of Scarlett soured with disappointment — but she pushed it aside.
“To start with,” Yamina added. “But after that…all of Fate. The rest will simply require a few additional steps.”
Scarlett turned sharply, brow furrowing. “…Is such a thing even possible?” She kept her tone measured, but an edge cut through. “Fate’s threads run through nearly everything. If it were undone, what would happen to this world?”
“It continues,” Yamina said. “The world has been shaped by Fate since the beginning, that much is true. But its threads are not essential to existence itself. Their influence would remain in what has already been written, but their absence should not collapse reality. Life will simply move forward on its own.”
“Should not?”
“…”
After a moment, Yamina turned to her, a faint tightness around her eyes. “I’ve spent the better part of the last two decades studying Fate’s structure and the effects it has on our world. There is nothing about its workings that is completely certain. But all my findings suggest the removal would be safe.”
Scarlett considered her. “Then why? What compels you to destroy Fate entirely? Is it because of how it dictates people’s paths? How it robs them of agency? Because you are tired of being trapped beneath something so…absolute?”
Yamina’s expression shifted. She turned slightly, eyes drifting back towards the fracture, as if searching for the words there.
“Hmm,” she began eventually. “I think our perspectives are simply too far apart, and that keeps breeding the same misunderstanding. Fate means something heavier to you than it does to me — or, I suspect, many others in this world.”
Her tone softened, but it also grew more precise.
“To me, Fate is like…heritage. Imagine a noble raised from birth to believe in duty. To serve, to guide, to protect. Taught from the cradle that those ideals are sacred. That they matter. Instilled with a deep familiarity of the good those duties bring.”
She paused.
“Those duties may chafe. That noble may long for more. They may even have the freedom to rebel. But that freedom isn’t in their blood. It isn’t in their bones. It isn’t in who they are to abandon all of it. So in truth, there is no real freedom at all. But they don’t resent it.”
Her gaze returned to Scarlett.
“That is what Fate is to me. There are aspects I dislike. There are times I’ve resisted it. But ultimately…that resistance isn’t who I am. So no, I don’t feel trapped beneath it — not in the way you suggest.”
She exhaled. “But we’re revisiting old ground at this point. To answer your actual question, one might say there are two reasons I wanted to kill Fate.”
Scarlett stayed quiet.
“The first,” Yamina said, “is that it’s a grave. And…after millennia of forced guidance and interference, it deserves to be treated as such.”
“…And the second?”
“You already know, don’t you?” Yamina gestured below them. “What do you see when you peer into that and try to see what lies ahead?”
Scarlett frowned, then looked down.
She let the Anomalous power sharpen her vision, drawing her deeper into the threads. Impressions rose, but all were rooted in the present — threads touching the world as it was now. That was as far as she’d dared look before: even that had been far beyond what she could process.
Still, she pressed forward. She chose a single thread and tried to follow it, tracing the direction it wanted to lead. It split, branched, and spun off into countless variations. A storm of possible futures, sprawling beyond comprehension.
It was chaotic. Practically impossible to follow. She could understand why even this world’s gods couldn’t read Fate reliably.
Gradually, however, beneath the shifting tide of impressions, she saw it. Confirming something she’d only heard in passing before.
The thread ended.
Not abruptly. Not cleanly. But it stopped.
She pulled back, heart beating faster from the effort.
“Fate ends,” she said. “Somewhere in the near future.”
Yamina nodded. “It has nearly run its course.”
“What happens when it does?”
Scarlett had wondered about that before.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been able to perceive a clear version of it. But Fate’s natural conclusion is unlikely to be…gentle.”
Scarlett’s gaze lingered on her before drifting back to the endless tangle beneath them, millions of paths winding and splitting.
“No, I imagine not…” she murmured.
The game had several endings. A few of them were peaceful, yes, but far from all. War. Collapse. Godfall. She didn’t know which ending this world was moving towards, but with so many factions already meddling with Fate, letting it unravel on its own might be a mistake.
She wasn’t even sure her game knowledge meant much anymore.
“Is hastening Fate’s end truly the best option?” she asked.
Yamina didn’t respond at first.
Eventually, Scarlett looked up to find the woman watching her with a small, sardonic, yet oddly gentle smile. “If I say yes, would you help me?”
“Yes.”
Scarlett didn’t hesitate. The answer came out with more certainty than even she had expected. She wasn’t sure if it was because she resented the threads that had tried to affect her. If it was because of Arlene. Or if it was just the sense that someone had to act in challenge against the strange, inscrutable power pulling the strings of an entire world.
Whatever the reason, really, she’d help.
Yamina’s smile softened. “Then we begin.”
Scarlett folded her arms. “How, precisely, are we meant to accomplish this?”
Even with her current strength, she was fairly sure she couldn’t budge even a fraction of this entire weave. Not unless she had a lot of time to prepare — and even then, any effect would likely be local, like what she’d seen in Freybrook.
Yamina tilted her head, a thoughtful gleam behind her glasses. “Can I ask, Baroness…how do you usually oppose Fate?”
Scarlett considered. “I cannot say with any certainty. It has been inherent since I arrived in this world. I do not do anything actively. Threads of Fate that would otherwise guide events…lose intent around me. I have also observed this effect linger in those close to me.”
Yamina’s brows knit. “Is that all?”
Scarlett didn’t answer. Instead, she extended her hand and summoned a sliver of the Anomalous One’s power. Just enough for the white and grey light to bloom across her palm, flickering faintly at the edges like smoke in the wind.
Yamina's eyes widened. She leaned in, lips parted as she studied it.
“That,” she said, adjusting her glasses as a shimmer ran across the lenses, “bears an uncomfortable resemblance to the artifacts wielded by the Hallowed Cabal and the Tribe of Sin.”
“It is the same power commanded by the entity they revere.”
Yamina straightened, gaze sharp. “The other Anomalous One.”
“Indeed. I stole this power from it.”
Yamina regarded her closely. “Do you know what it is? That being?”
“I was rather hoping you might,” Scarlett said.
The wizard gave a quiet laugh. “Unlikely. As you know, scrying an Anomalous One is almost entirely useless, and actual records are scarce. I only learned the term after reaching the Forgotten Tower and speaking with an Idol there. I am far from an expert.”
Scarlett narrowed her eyes. “Still, you must have some idea of how its power—or mine—can be used to kill Fate. You were waiting here for me specifically.”
“That is true.” Yamina dipped her head, then raised a hand towards the fractured island and the indistinct silhouette at its centre. The chains on her glasses clicked faintly with the motion. “That over there is the fracture’s core. It’s what actually remains of the entity that became Fate.”
Scarlett’s gaze fixed on the strange silhouette within the rupture.
Yamina motioned downward, towards the thin violet tether trailing from her feet into the golden ocean, rooting into the island.
“And that,” she said, “is my connection to it. The source of what you might call my Fate. ‘Killing’ the fracture is as simple as severing whatever lies at the end of that tether.”
She met Scarlett’s eyes.
“I believe only you can do that. The remnant is small enough that it should be possible for someone like you. What I can offer is a way to release it—temporarily—from its current prison.”
Scarlett’s brow furrowed. “And the rest of Fate? Eliminating this would not reach beyond the fracture, would it?”
“That comes next. It won’t be as simple, regrettably. I assume you are familiar enough with the Tribute of Dominion, given where you are?”
“I am.”
“The Tribute is the axis around which certain fundamental laws of this world revolve. With it, we can strike a geas powerful enough to unseat Fate entirely.”
“A geas can be struck to that end? Where would it draw its power from?”
“From Fate.”
Skepticism flickered across Scarlett’s face. “You intend to destroy Fate using power drawn from Fate?”
“In practice, yes,” Yamina said. “In theory? No. Contradictory, but from what I have gathered, the Tribute is not bound by conventional magical theory. Its nature is that of arbitration. It should allow us the leverage we need to achieve this.”
Scarlett was quiet for some time, thinking. Then she nodded once. “Very well.” She looked to the fracture.
If her task was to destroy this thing, the question was how she’d go about that. Would it be enough if she just threw her Anomalous power at it? It seemed like her best bet.
Yamina took a step forward. “I’ll begin the separation. It might take a moment.”
Scarlett’s gaze slid to her. “How long?”
“Hard to say. Ideally, before I run out of Anemorite Catalysts and get snapped back to the Tower. That would be…embarrassing.”
Scarlett gave her a flat look. She hoped that was a joke.
Yamina only smiled, lifting both hands. Faint lines of arcane formulae began to trace themselves in the air around her fingers, symbols unspooling in iridescent threads that wove into the Fate below.
Scarlett tried to decipher the runes, but they weren’t Zuverian. They were primordial. She’d need time to interpret them properly. Still, she could tell the spellwork blended multiple schools of magic in a way that felt unusually fluid. That was strange — every primordial spell she knew had been tied to a single school.
Had Yamina created this herself? If so, that was the kind of feat that would humble any modern mage. And yet this woman was officially only a Senior Wizard.
A soft hum rolled through the surface beneath them. The violet tether below Yamina rippled and twitched, as if stirred.
Scarlett’s eyes shifted from the tether to the fracture, her thoughts racing. A trace of irritation surfaced. Feelings she’d suppressed ever since Arnaud first threatened to join her expedition because of Yamina’s words.
“I did not expect this to be where my path in Beld Thylelion would lead me,” she muttered. “Even with all my knowledge. Meanwhile, you claim you cannot see far through Fate, yet everything on your end appears to fall perfectly into place. Has it not aligned a little too conveniently for you?”
“From my perspective, it’s very much just luck,” Yamina said simply, still calmly casting as she spoke. “And, as I mentioned, educated guesses. I’ve always known there would be some form of…interfering force in Fate’s progression. A variable difficult to account for. When we first met, I considered the possibility that it was you. But I had other suspects.”
Scarlett arched a brow. “Such as?”
“The Hallowed Cabal, for one. The Undead Council, for another. I didn’t actually know if the role you now occupy would be filled by someone I could work with. So I’m thankful it was you in the end.”
That caught Scarlett off guard. “…Thankful?”
Yamina glanced over, another smile curving her lips. “Naturally. Not often I have the opportunity to work with someone I actually like.”
Scarlett needed a moment to process how to respond to that. She focused on the fracture instead, on how its core had begun to pulse in irregular, almost spasmodic beats.
“I have spent much of the past few weeks viewing you through a lens of suspicion,” she said. “Parsing your actions, questioning your every move and motive. So I am not entirely certain where I stand with you at present.”
“Fair.” Yamina let out a gentle chuckle. “Still, I hope we might at least be amicable. I, for one, rather enjoyed our trip into the Veiled Library.”
“I will admit that it was not…terrible.”
There had been some unnerving moments—such as her encounter with Thainnith’s fragment, and the Anomalous One—but overall, the experience hadn’t been awful.
“If I remember your bard companion’s stories correctly,” Yamina said, just as her spell surged, “that’s practically high praise.”
More glyphs rippled into being, winding themselves into the sea of Fate. The violet tether gave another sharp jolt, and Scarlett felt the pressure around the fracture tighten.
It wasn’t done yet, though. Glyph after glyph continued to form, spiralling outward with each pulse of power. Scarlett kept watching the flow of it all.
After a moment, she spoke again, judging they still had time. “Earlier, you never reacted much when I told you I was a stranger to this world. It left me questioning whether you understood what I meant.”
“No, I understood,” Yamina replied. “You meant to say you’re an otherworlder, yes?”
“I did.” Scarlett turned to her slightly. “Are you…familiar with what that entails?”
Yamina shook her head. “Not entirely. I believe I understand the idea, but are you asking if I have met or heard of one before?”
“…Yes.”
“Then the answer is mostly no. I’ve read a single account suggesting the Anomalous One might be something similar, but beyond that, little. The concept itself is fascinating, though it contradicts much of modern arcane theory. But most of my work has focused elsewhere. I would love to learn more, truly. But that conversation, like the one about my spellbook, should probably wait.”
“I see.” Scarlett kept the flicker of disappointment from her face.
A brief silence settled before Yamina spoke again.
“…On a similar subject,” she said, “does the term ‘Other’ hold any particular meaning to you?”
Scarlett glanced at her. “You mean apart from the etymological link with ‘otherworlder’?”
“They might be facets of the same concept, but I’m fairly certain it’s its own designation. Something like a title — similar to the Anomalous One, but distinct.”
“Then no. I am not familiar with it.”
“Hmm. That’s a shame.”
“Is there a reason you ask?”
“There is, but…I am not quite sure what it is.”
Scarlett frowned.
Yamina gave her an apologetic look. “I can’t broach it further than that.”
Scarlett’s frown worsened.
The woman’s expression shifted just slightly. There was something unreadable behind her eyes. “Perhaps you’ll find out yourself soon enough.”
Scarlett studied her, then asked, more carefully, “Is there any point in asking whether you are aware of what the system is?”
Yamina’s brows rose. “The system? Are we referring to a specific one? Arcane? Philosophical?”
Scarlett held her gaze for a few seconds, then shook her head. “Another topic for later, then.”
Yamina nodded, though her expression remained thoughtful. “If you say so.”
Her spellwork deepened. The hum beneath them intensified, building to a dense, resonant pitch. Nearly a hundred glyphs lit up at once, then burst apart, unravelling into fine threads of pale gold.
The tether anchoring Yamina to the fracture flared — then went slack, dissolving into the rest of Fate.
Yamina staggered, a hand pressed to her chest. Her glasses slipped from her face, caught by their chain as they dangled. Scarlett instinctively stepped forward, but Yamina lifted her other hand to stop her.
“It’s done,” she said, breath unsteady. “What I’ve performed isn’t so different from cutting myself out of Fate entirely. Unfortunately, I suspect it will kill me in a few days as well, so I’ll place my faith in you to help me avoid that particular fate.”
Scarlett scowled. “You could have warned me that was the cost.”
Yamina looked up with another faint, teasing smile. “Oh? Would that have changed your decision? You are surprisingly kind, aren’t you?”
Scarlett was silent, then turned her gaze forward again. “And what would you have me do once the fracture is dealt with?”
“If you manage it, I’ve left behind certain provisions that should help steer you on your way. Speak with Arnaud. Tell him I asked him to give you the key.”
“…Fine.”
Ahead, the fracture shimmered and buckled. Suspended in the golden sea, its core warped, and a fissure spread outwards across the threads binding it.
Scarlett pulled on the Anomalous power, drawing more through the legacy than ever before. A spike of pain lanced her temple, nearly sending her staggering, but she clenched her jaw and stayed upright, eyes locked on the shape at the fracture’s heart.
Then, with a chime that echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once, the fracture began to split.
Scarlett immediately activated her [Garments of Form], and—to her relief—the artifact responded properly even here. She teleported forward, right to the edge of the fracture’s core. A pair of floating water steps formed under her feet, steadying her in the air.
She extended her hand. Anomalous power reached outward.
She could see the threads binding the fracture together — twisted, coiled, and knotted tight around the centre like veins to a heart. But they were fading.
Hopefully, it would be enough to simply feed the power in, to overwhelm whatever remained inside.
She hesitated briefly when the shape within the threads seemed to move faintly, but pressed on.
The split tore wider. Cracks branched across the island. And suddenly, Scarlett was face-to-face with what lay at its centre.
Unlike the gold surrounding it, this was a blur of silver and white.
Her hand—enveloped in Anomalous’ power—moved forward.
The figure shifted, becoming more human.
Scarlett’s fingers almost reached it. The power in her hand surged, latching onto the shape like a starving thing finding sustenance.
The figure turned a head that hadn’t been there a moment before. Its features coalesced, sharpening into the face of a woman. Light skin. Dark hair brushing just past the shoulders, a few strands clinging to her cheek. A face unremarkable enough to pass unnoticed in a crowd.
Scarlett froze.
Her breath caught.
Hazel eyes met hers, a flicker of something curious yet questioning in them.
Familiar.
Then, in the next heartbeat, the woman was consumed by a rush of white and grey.
And a part of Fate died.
Comments
Brantal
Honestly more likely than my original guess of Amy herself, since... well, Amy is still alive in that world.
Gwydion
Amy is my guess
NoneSuch
Her original sister?
ActionKermit
Wow, that twist at the end is *brutal*.
Brantal
an editor of the newspaper?
