Chapter 20 – The Weight of Fate

The journey back to the hidden outpost was silent, tense, and heavy with unspoken thoughts. Elara rode ahead with Aerin, while Vesper trailed behind them, his gaze dark and unreadable. The encounter with the wraith had changed everything.

One must die for the other to thrive.

The words repeated in Elara’s mind, a curse that wrapped around her throat like a noose.

She had spent her life resisting the forces that tried to control her—her father’s rule, the expectations of her lineage, the magic that dictated her fate. But now, fate had given her an ultimatum.

And she had no idea how to fight it.

By the time they reached the outpost—a hidden fortress carved into the mountainside—Elara barely noticed the guards greeting them or the worried glances exchanged among the rebels.

Aerin dismounted first, his sharp gaze flicking between her and Vesper. “We need to talk. All of us.”

Vesper swung off his horse, jaw clenched. “Agreed.”

Elara hesitated, then nodded. No more avoiding the truth.

⸻

Inside the War Room

The chamber was dimly lit by flickering torches, the stone walls etched with ancient markings of power—wards designed to keep enemies out.

Elara paced near the wooden table where maps of the kingdom were spread. Vesper leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while Aerin stood at the entrance, ready to strike if things turned ugly.

Finally, Elara turned to face them. “We need to address what happened back there.”

Vesper exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “You mean the part where a wraith told you that one of us has to die?” His voice was flat, but Elara could hear the restrained fury beneath it.

Aerin frowned. “It didn’t say when or how. Prophecies are often vague.”

Elara shook her head. “It said the sacrifice was near.” She met Vesper’s gaze. “We can’t ignore this.”

For the first time, uncertainty flickered across his features.

Aerin stepped forward, arms folded. “There has to be a way around it. A loophole.”

Elara wanted to believe that. She needed to believe that. But the weight of magic was absolute—it did not bend for love or will.

“What if there isn’t?” Vesper said quietly.

The words hit her like a blade to the chest.

Aerin stiffened. “Then we make one.” His voice was firm, filled with conviction. “Magic has always been wielded by those who seek to control us. But fate isn’t as inflexible as they want us to think.”

Elara swallowed. She wanted to trust in Aerin’s belief. But when she looked at Vesper—the man she had hated, the man she had fought, the man she had come to care for in ways that terrified her—she saw the same fear in his eyes that burned within her.

Fear of losing.

Fear of becoming the sacrifice.

Fear of what it meant if they couldn’t change fate.

A heavy silence settled between them.

Then, Vesper pushed off the wall. “We’re running out of time. If we’re going to challenge fate, we need a plan.”

Elara lifted her chin. “Then we find one. Together.”

For the first time since the prophecy’s revelation, a spark of defiance lit within her.

They would not be pawns in this game.

If fate wanted a sacrifice, they would rewrite the rules themselves.

The air inside the war room was thick with tension, the weight of the prophecy pressing down on them like an unseen force. The torches flickered, casting long shadows across the walls, as if the room itself was whispering warnings of what was to come.

Elara’s hands gripped the edge of the map-covered table, her knuckles white. “If we don’t find a way to break this, one of us is going to die.”

Vesper’s golden eyes were locked on hers, intense and unreadable. “You say that as if we have a choice.”

Aerin exhaled sharply. “We do have a choice. We always have a choice.” He turned to the old tomes stacked on the nearby shelf, flipping through pages filled with ancient spells, forbidden rituals, and half-lost knowledge.

Elara’s heart pounded as she watched him. “What are you looking for?”

“A way out.” He didn’t stop scanning the pages, his voice filled with determination. “No magic is absolute. Every spell has a counter. Every prophecy has a flaw.”

Vesper scoffed. “Do you really believe that?”

Aerin turned to face him, eyes burning with conviction. “I have to.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Elara glanced between the two men—one, a warrior willing to fight destiny with sheer willpower; the other, a mafia heir who had spent his life bending fate to his advantage.

She was somewhere between them. Torn between hope and resignation.

Then, Aerin’s eyes widened as he found something. “Here,” he said, tapping the brittle parchment. “The prophecy binds two souls together through magic, right? But what if we sever that bond?”

Vesper’s gaze narrowed. “Sever it how?”

Aerin turned the book toward them, revealing an old ritual.

A ritual of separation.

Elara stepped closer, scanning the text. The spell required blood, a powerful catalyst, and a force stronger than fate itself. It would either free them from the prophecy… or break them entirely.

Vesper’s expression darkened as he read over her shoulder. “You’re suggesting we rip apart a bond we don’t fully understand?”

“It’s better than waiting to see which one of you is doomed,” Aerin shot back.

Elara swallowed hard. This was dangerous. Unpredictable. Magic like this could come at a terrible cost.

But it was a chance.

Her voice was steady when she spoke. “We do it.”

Vesper turned to her, his jaw tightening. “Are you sure?”

Elara held his gaze. “I won’t sit back and let fate decide which one of us dies. If there’s even a chance to change this, we have to take it.”

Vesper hesitated, then nodded. His fingers brushed against hers for the briefest moment—a silent agreement, a shared defiance.

Aerin exhaled. “Then we move quickly. The longer we wait, the stronger the prophecy’s hold becomes.”

Elara turned back to the book, her pulse hammering in her ears.

They had one chance to break this curse.

And if they failed…

Fate would decide their sacrifice for them.

The room felt smaller, heavier with the realization of what they were about to attempt. Elara could hear her own heartbeat, steady yet frantic, like a war drum echoing inside her chest.

A ritual of separation. A spell that could sever their fates and untangle the web of magic that bound them.

Or—if they failed—destroy them both.

Vesper traced his fingers over the ancient text, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t just any spell,” he muttered. “This was forbidden for a reason.”

Aerin crossed his arms. “That’s what makes it perfect.”

Elara lifted her gaze. “Perfect?”

Aerin exhaled. “The prophecy has already chosen you two. That means it’s using the strongest form of fate-binding magic. That level of magic is nearly impossible to break. Unless—”

“Unless we use something just as dangerous,” Vesper finished, his voice low.

Elara swallowed hard. The weight of his words settled into her bones.

Aerin’s fingers tapped against the open book. “It requires three things: blood willingly given, a sacrifice of power, and a force that defies fate itself.” His eyes flickered toward Elara and Vesper. “That last part is what makes this impossible.”

Elara’s breath hitched. “Why?”

“Because fate has already decided your roles.” Aerin’s voice was quiet but firm. “One of you has to die for the other to thrive. That’s the balance. The only way to break it is to tip the scales so drastically that fate itself has no choice but to rewrite its course.”

Vesper scoffed. “That’s poetic, but not helpful. What exactly are we supposed to do?”

Aerin’s gaze darkened. “We need a stronger force than fate. And the only thing stronger than fate…” He hesitated.

“…is love.”

Silence fell over the room.

Elara’s stomach twisted. “That can’t be the answer.”

But the look in Aerin’s eyes said it was.

Vesper’s expression hardened. “You expect me to believe that love—an emotion—can break something as absolute as fate?”

Aerin shrugged. “Not just love. Sacrificial love. A love so deep it defies destiny itself. You either have it… or you don’t.”

Elara’s throat tightened. She didn’t dare look at Vesper. Not now.

The air crackled between them, charged with something unspoken, dangerous, and raw.

Aerin closed the book with a decisive thud. “We don’t have time to question it. We need to gather what’s required and prepare for the ritual. Tonight.”

Elara exhaled, trying to steady herself. She knew this would be a risk. She just never expected it would come at the cost of her heart.

Vesper pushed away from the table. “Then let’s do it.”

Elara finally met his gaze. The golden fire in his eyes sent a shiver through her.

Tonight, they would defy fate itself.

And by the time the sun rose…

One of them might not survive.