"What do you mean, dead?" Elara asked with a shrieking voice.

Nyu could see the panic in her eyes and the distress that was resonating from her pretty face in palpable waves.

Instead of responding, Zerath reached for his glasses and started cleaning them with the sleeve of his purple robe. The wrinkles on his concerned forehead were deep like mountain crevasses, and his bushy eyebrows were almost touching each other.

"I'm afraid it's true," he said flaccidly, then mechanically put his glasses back on. "A student found his body earlier today, in one of the archives in the east wing."

Elara's throat made an awkward noise.

"That is —" she whispered, but her voice trailed off like an echo in the snow.

"Terrible," Zerath concluded and nodded pensively.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, while the black smoke behind the window kept darkening the sky.

"He was not even that old," Elara muttered, "And he seemed healthy, too."

She started fidgeting with a strand of dark hair, like she always did whenever she was unsure about something, as Nyu had come to realize.

Zerath stared at her for a long moment, then sighed and put a finger to his temple.

"Sweet child," he whispered like a caring father, "I'm afraid you misunderstand me."

It took Nyu only a split second to figure out what he was implying — Master Oryn had been murdered, right here within the walls of the Great Library. Nyu had seen plenty of people die in her time, many of them before their time. To her, death was a natural part of life, even at the hands of others. And yet, she could feel the gravity of the situation and its implications. And she could tell that Fateweavers were not used to murder in their midst.

Shielded by a heart of gold, Elara did not seem to get Zerath's meaning right away. She clearly had the wits to decipher any problem, but to her pure soul, something so vile was just inconceivable.

For a moment, Nyu's and Zerath's gazes interlocked, one grim and hard, the other one sad and pensive. In shared knowledge of a painful truth, it was as if his eyes were saying: "I'm sorry, but I have to tell her."

Then he looked at Elara.

"Master Oryn has been murdered."

No one said anything for a long moment. Elara's mouth stood open like she'd just forgotten how to close it, and Nyu could almost hear the gears in her head turn as she tried to process this disturbing news.

"How did he die?" Nyu asked out of occupational interest.

Zerath furrowed his brows. "He was stabbed in the back — repeatedly."

"But," Elara stammered, "how is that possible? Who would do such a thing? And why?"

Her empty eyes scurried through the room as if they could find the answers to her questions in the bookshelves that lined the walls, where she usually found the solutions to her problems.

Zerath examined her with a pitiful expression on his face.

"The murderer and the motive, yes," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Culprits aside — don't you guys have guards?" Nyu asked skeptically.

Zerath smiled a bitter smile.

"Guards protect our home from outside threats — they don't usually have to protect us from what's inside." He inclined his head every so slightly, then added: "Or who."

Again, Nyu was quicker to read the room than Elara. The old Fateweaver was implying that the demise of Oryn was related to their arrival two days prior — and of course, Nyu knew who among them would be the most likely to be blamed.

"But who in here would wish Master Oryn harm?" Elara asked obliviously into the awkward silence.

Zerath chuckled without joy. "Who indeed? Well, I would say it was someone who didn't want the ownership of that mysterious fate tome to be disclosed."

Elara's eyes widened.

"Are you saying," she asked warily, keeping her voice down, "that whoever this tome belongs to killed Master Oryn? Just like they killed King Montis?"

Zerath gave her thoughts room to grow while still watching Nyu carefully.

"It would appear so," he said slowly.

"But —" Elara began, but broke off.

Nyu could see the realization settle in her eyes.

They fell silent for a moment, the air crackling with intensity.

"You were the only ones to travel here from Cylion since King Montis' assassination," Zerath said in a low voice, almost inaudible.

He let his words be felt, before Nyu corrected: "The only ones that you know of."

Neither of them paid her words much attention. Instead, Elara and Zerath just stared at each other like they were seeing new facets of their personalities for the first time.

"You think it was one of us?" Elara breathed.

"I fail to see a different explanation," Zerath said somberly.

Almost at the same time, they glanced at Nyu, who was standing between them with her arms crossed. She looked back at Elara, only to see the shock in her eyes intensify as she grasped the full scope of what her Master was implying.

"It wasn't her!" Elara shouted with a cracking voice.

"No?" Zerath asked calmly.

"It couldn't have been!"

Zerath cocked his head. "You seem quite certain of that."

"Yes!" Elara insisted with her fists clenched, but then her voice got thinner, and her cheeks took on a red blush. "She was with me the whole morning."

"Hm," Zerath said pensively, and started combing his white beard with his slender fingers.

"There is no telling how long Master Oryn has been dead. He could've been killed during the night. Which, I assume, each of you spent in their own room?"

Elara's cheeks started to look like rose petals pressed to porcelain.

"It wasn't me, you old fool," Nyu snarled. "I wouldn't be so sloppy."

For the first time during their talk, a hint of amusement crossed Zerath's lips.

"A master of the craft, I take it?" he asked facetiously.

"I could offer a demonstration."

He folded his hands in a gesture of de-escalation. "I'm sure you could. But I don't think that will be necessary."

"Look," Nyu rasped, mentally preparing herself to fight her way through every last Fateweaver that would stand in her way to freedom, "if I were this assassin, then why would I still be standing here? And why would you still be standing, and not lying on the floor with a knife in your throat?"

"Stop it!" Elara cried out, "both of you!"

Zerath inclined his head and remained quiet, but his dark eyes were still riveted on Nyu.

"I know what this looks like," Elara continued, "but it wasn't Nyu!"

The old Master's skin twitched around the corners of his mouth.

"I believe you," he said with a calm voice, "but the Elder might not."

Elara looked down at her fists and moved her lips to form an inaudible curse.

"Wait a second," Nyu interjected warily, with her hands raised cautiously, "if you don't think I'm the culprit, then …"

Zerath met her gaze and nodded almost unperceivably.

"I'm afraid so," he confirmed her suspicion.

Elara stared at him with her eyes wide open.

"You think it was … Kaelen?" The words hung in the air like the storm clouds they'd seen in the distance.

Elara's face lost the last of its pale color in a matter of seconds, and her leaf-green eyes were starting to water like a leaking well. All joy seemed to be drained from her soul.

Nyu hated to see Elara this way, and what Zerath's words had done to her — but deep down she knew the old man was right. It all made sense now: the strange tome that found its way into their hands all too easily, and the even stranger reaction it had caused in Kaelen. He'd been obsessed with it right from the start, always carrying it close like it was some kind of treasure, or … or a part of him.

A gruesome thought crossed her mind and had her heart skip a beat. Had Malvorn wanted them to find the tome in his office? Had this been part of his plan all along? But then why had she been sent to retrieve it in the first place? Her mind was buzzing with questions she didn't know the answers to — all she knew was that she'd been deceived, despite all her cleverness, despite all precautions. She'd known the Dor siblings were bad news right when she met them, but a part of her made her let her guard down — or rather, a part of Elara. She'd liked Kaelen, but she had never quite been able to read him. His connection to the mysterious fate tome explained some of that, and it made perfect sense.

The night King Montis was murdered, Kaelen had gone to bed early. The day after, he'd looked like something had eaten him alive and spat him back out, his entire body speaking of inhumane exhaustion that had no possible explanation. Unless, of course, he had spent the night being the ruthless assassin that Beon described. It wouldn't explain how he had turned from an average fighter at best to a killing machine, but at least why he had been so exhausted the next day, when the guards came to take them captive.

Nyu didn't know much about fate tomes, or fate in general, only what the siblings had told her in the short time they'd been together. They did, however, explain to her how one could kill a soul by destroying its fate tome. Thinking back to when Kaelen suggested to just destroy the tome sent shivers down her spine — had a part of him known, deep down, that that would've been suicide? Had the tome been speaking to him in some mysterious way, one that even he himself could only perceive as a subconscious whisper?

Elara's heavy breathing rooted Nyu's mind back in the present. Zerath had laid a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder, and was eyeing her like a doctor diagnosing a patient.

"I'm sorry," was all he said, his voice tinged with sorrow.

She could tell the old Fateweaver himself was close to shedding a tear, despite his mastery when it came to composure. His parchment-like skin looked even more wrinkly than before, and his eyes were hiding behind his thick glasses.

Almost choking up, Elara whispered: "But, it can't be."

Her words were lacking resolve as she, too, was coming to the same conclusion Nyu had — it all just fit too well.

Even earlier that day, when Master Oryn had been murdered, they did not see Kaelen. He'd been in his room all by himself, and when they knocked, he'd just grunted dismissively, not saying a proper word. Had he been recovering from yet another strenuous attack?

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"I wish it weren't so," Zerath said with his head low.

"What makes you certain it was him?" Elara asked with growing panic.

"Well, I believe the goal of this murder was to keep Master Oryn from telling us the truth about the owner of the tome. I'm afraid that attempt was in vain, for he confided in me before his death — just yesterday, to be precise."

"And he —" Elara began, but her voice gave in as tears rolled over her smooth lips and into her open mouth.

"Yes, my Dear. Oryn told me that the tome indeed belongs to Kaelen."

They fell silent for a long moment, with only the rattling wind disturbing the mournful quiet.

"But why?" Elara stammered. "Why Kaelen? Why is he doing these horrible things? Why is that his fate?"

"That, my Dear, is as much of a mystery to me as it is to you," Zerath said earnestly. "But as it stands, he is as much of a danger to himself as he is to everyone around him."

Elara whimpered, and thick tears were now rolling down her soft face.

"What will happen now?"

Zerath sighed. "Truth be told: I don't know. But what I do know is that Elder Thornec will be fuming when he finds out, and I dread the resolutions he might seek to employ."

"What resolutions are you talking about, old man?" Nyu asked with her eyes narrowed. "Speak plainly."

Zerath didn't even care about her lack of manners.

"Elder Thornec is a man who deals with problems rather … efficiently. If there are weeds in the garden, he will raze it — if the well is poisoned, he will dig a new one. He is a man who is not known for half-measures."

"What about that is speaking plainly?" Nyu growled.

"Let me put it this way," Zerath said with a patient voice, "If Thornec learns about Kaelen's fate, and how he is destined to destroy the Fateweavers, he will take every possible step to prevent that fate from coming true. And, as I'm sure even you know by now, that can only mean one thing."

"He would destroy Kaelen's tome," Elara sniffed.

Nyu could see the despair in her weeping eyes, and it made her feel emotions she wasn't used to — and she didn't like them.

"I know this is incredibly hard for you, as it is for me," Zerath said after a moment, "but I need to ask: where is Kaelen now?"

Elara seemed unable to speak, her eyes filled with sheer horror, so Nyu responded in her stead.

"Last we saw him was this morning. Well, we didn't see him, but we heard him in his room. We asked if he wanted to join us, but he declined."

Zerath nodded. "I see," he whispered, then fell silent.

The black smoke behind him was now fully blocking out the sun. The few oil lamps in the large room weren't lit, so their faces only appeared as eerie silhouettes, hiding their distressed faces in the cover of darkness.

"We can't let the Elder destroy Kaelen's tome!" Elara cried out with heartfelt desperation. "He can't do that!"

Zerath furrowed his bushy brows. "Kaelen is like a son to me, you know this," he sighed, "but I'm afraid our options are limited."

Nyu could see Elara's slender body shiver, despite the warmth that lingered inside the thick stone walls. The sight made her heart ache in ways she'd never experienced before — and the only desire that spread through her mind like ink blooming through water was the wish to stop her suffering.

"Maybe there is another option," she heard herself say, driven by the foolishness of a yearning heart.

The two Fateweavers looked at her in surprise.

"Your order loves to blame the Fateless for every bad thing that ever happens in this world — I say let them."

"What do you mean?" Elara asked in a thin voice.

Nyu pointed at Zerath. "You already said I'm the obvious culprit. Everyone will believe that, unless you tell them otherwise."

Zerath didn't respond, but fixated on her with his dark eyes.

"I trust you are the only one Oryn told about Kaelen's tome?"

"As far as I know, yes," Zerath said quietly.

"Perfect," Nyu said facetiously, "we'll just tell the rest of your order that I killed that bookworm. Who would've thought, another Fateless at the root of all evil? They will love it."

"No!" Elara hissed. "I won't let you take the fall for this."

"Do you see any better solutions here, little bird?" Nyu asked bitterly. "Besides, once news of what the Fateless did to Cylion makes the rounds, they will hate me either way."

"Who is to say Thornec won't kill you? If he's willing to sacrifice one of his own, he won't even blink twice when it comes to killing a Fateless."

"Let him try," Nyu scoffed. "I will be gone before nightfall. Unlike Kaelen, I'm no stranger to moving in the shadows. They will never find me."

She tried to put on a mask of indifference, but she could feel a pain in her chest when Elara's puffy eyes met hers.

"You can't do that," she stammered.

"If it's the only way to save your foolish brother, I will do it." Nyu sighed. "I guess I will always be a lone wolf."

"I hate to interrupt your moment of valor," Zerath interjected, "but all that would do is buy time. Kaelen is still the bringer of doom described in the tome, and your sacrifice won't change that."

Elara gently grabbed his purple sleeve.

"Is there nothing we can do? Is there nothing you can do?" Her red eyes looked up at Zerath, pleading for a glimmer of hope.

Zerath studied her for a long moment. Eventually, he cupped her slender hand with his old fingers and said: "Fate is binding, you know this. Trying to change that is the most dangerous thing of all."

"But it can be done?" Elara insisted, half asking, half demanding.

Zerath visibly wound himself, torn between the desire to help and the fear of making a grave mistake.

"In theory, yes," he admitted and lowered his head.

"That's what we need to do, then," Elara exclaimed with a shrieking voice.

"Elara, listen to me," Zerath urged without letting go of her hand, "what you are proposing is against natural law, not to mention the law of the Fateweavers. We will all be committing treason, and there is no way of knowing if it would even change the outcome. Kaelen might still be the bringer of doom he is destined to be, or worse."

"I don't care," Elara hissed defiantly, "if there is even the tiniest chance we have to take it."

Zerath sighed, and they fell silent for a moment.

In the courtyard below the window, they could hear distressed voices as more and more people noticed the cloud of black ash that darkened the sky. The unmistakable sign of imminent destruction would sow fear in most people's hearts, especially ones as sheltered as the Fateweavers'. But Nyu had come to realize that their softness was not all bad, and it seemed to have awakened something within herself that she'd long thought dead.

"So it would seem," she said quietly, "that time is all you need."

She could see the gratefulness in Elara's eyes, and it was like a warm wave rolling over her.

Zerath shook his head and massaged his wrinkly forehead.

"My dear child," he said to Elara, "you are the brightest Fateweaver I ever had the pleasure of teaching. This, however, is madness. Foolishness, even."

Elara brushed away her tears and glared at the window with newfound determination.

"I don't care," she whispered. "This can't be what fate has in store for Kaelen. We won't let it happen."

"We can try, but the moment it seems like we can't stop Kaelen from doing something all of us will regret, we have to put an end to it. To him."

He started at Elara.

"Do you understand?"

Elara nodded stiffly. "I understand. But we have to try."

Zerath closed his eyes as if he were saying a silent prayer.

"So be it," he finally said, and relaxed slightly. "Then I guess the silver lining is that you are committing this crime under my supervision."

The hint of a smile tugged at Elara's lips.

"Thank you, Master Zerath!"

"Don't thank me just yet," Zerath said quietly. "This situation is far from being resolved. And you will have to play your part in it: Kaelen, too, needs to believe that Nyu murdered Master Oryn. I fear what will happen to his mind once he starts realizing it was his own doing."

Elara frowned. "I can't lie to Kaelen. I never could."

Zerath's eyes grew soft. "Then, sweet child, I'm afraid you'd better stay away from him for the time being."

"But —" Elara started to protest, but stopped when Zerath raised his hand.

"Those are the conditions."

Elara muttered something inaudible, then nodded. All of a sudden, she looked deeply uncomfortable, and the sadness in her expression only worsened when she glanced at Nyu.

"I guess I will pack some rations and be on my way," Nyu murmured.

"I — no — you —" Elara stammered, and her eyes started to water.

Zerath clicked his tongue.

"That might not be necessary."

Nyu raised her eyebrows. "Explain," she demanded.

"The Great Library is a vast place," Zerath said cheekily, "who can oversee all these halls and hallways, all these cellars and towers?"

"You are saying she should hide here?" Elara asked with a breath of relief.

Zerath shrugged. "You might as well. Once this most unexpected news reaches Elder Thornec, he will never expect you to be hiding in plain sight, right under his nose. Especially not if we tell him you're long gone."

At first, Nyu thought the idea ridiculous. But then something about it intrigued her. She'd never been a stranger to danger, and the proximity to Elara sure was an added benefit of sticking around. Still, she had to vet the idea before seriously considering it.

"That sounds a bit too simple. I get your fellow Fateweavers are not the brightest, but even they will clue in if I just camp out in their dining hall."

"We just need to accommodate you accordingly," Zerath explained. "Somewhere where no one goes snooping around, and where you can hide for the time being until we know how to proceed."

"You mean until Malvorn wipes the floor with us?"

Zerath's expression stiffened. "No, that is not what I meant."

"Where would she be hiding?" Elara asked cautiously, and to Nyu's surprise, Zerath met her question with a sly smile.

"You know the old tower at the edge of the western courtyard?"

Elara frowned. "You mean the abandoned tower? The one that is said to collapse if you look at it funny?"

Zerath's smile intensified. "That one, yes. Except, the rumors of its structural inadequacy might have been … exaggerated."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say, my office was starting to feel a little cramped with all the … collectibles … I acquired over the years. Let's say," he paused and glanced at them over the edge of his glasses, "I needed some more … storage space."

Elara scoffed in disbelief, while Nyu rolled her eyes.

"You Fateweavers sure are a weird breed," she sneered and crossed her arms.

Zerath let out an amused chortle. "Perhaps. But in this particular case, our peculiarities will be to your advantage. You can stay in that tower, and no one except for the occasional mouse will bother you."

Nyu considered his proposal.

"And while I hide like a rat …"

"... I will try to find a way to help Kaelen," Zerath concluded her question. "And I will watch him closely."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Fine," Nyu growled, much to Elara's delight.

Zerath nodded approvingly and folded his hands.

"Splendid. I will speak to Elder Thornec at once. Truth be told, he already requested my presence hours ago."

Elara looked at him in surprise.

"And you kept him waiting … to talk to us?"

A weak smile played about his lips.

"It would appear so. But now we must make haste. Take Nyu to the tower, and do so while everyone is still distracted by the grim omen in the skies. After that, fetch her some of our apprentice robes from the laundry room, just in case. Do that, and hopefully we'll find a way out of this predicament."

Elara nodded and grabbed Nyu by the arm. The prospect of wearing the dress of a Fateweaver was revolting, but she still let herself be dragged out of the room.

#

They didn't talk as they scurried down the many hallways and avoided other members of the Great Library as best they could. The backyard was practically empty, since most students were observing the gruesome spectacle on the other side of the building. It was ironic to think that she was taking advantage of Malvorn's cruelties, but then again, many things seemed twisted as of late.

When they reached the old tower with its barred windows and ivy-covered stone walls, Nyu couldn't help but wonder if they had made the right choice. Even Elara's eyes had lost their momentary spark and were back to portraying her despair.

They unlocked the weathered door with a hefty iron key Zerath had given them and hastily stepped into the dark hall that lay behind.

"I should probably leave now," Elara murmured, and stopped past the doorstep.

In the dim light, her pretty face carried even more sadness.

"Things will work out," Nyu said and tried a smile.

Elara nodded pensively and stared at her hands. Nyu stepped over and grabbed them as gently as she could.

"They will," Nyu insisted.

"It's just —" Elara said, then cleared her throat. "I just can't believe the tome was Kaelen's all along."

"It does seem like a cruel joke your God of Fate pulled on us."

"I should've noticed sooner," Elara sniffed. "I even read the damn thing."

Nyu gently lifted Elara's chin. "Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known."

A lone tear started running down Elara's cheek.

"I'm his sister. If not me, then who?"

"Some things just don't make sense, and who are we to understand all of them?" Nyu whispered. "I mean, why did Malvorn want Kaelen's tome in the first place? How did he even know it existed? And why was it in a section with all these high-and-mighty fate tomes of kings and lords? It shouldn't have even been there. There are things at play here we don't understand yet, but we will eventually. Until then, there is not much we can do."

There was a long pause.

"How do you know that?" Elara sniveled, gazing at Nyu.

When she didn't respond, Elara's expression hardened, and the wet film on her cheeks glistened atop her tense skin. "How do you know it was in that section?"

Nyu bit her lip and mentally cursed at her own stupidity. She had made it this far without slipping up, only to falter at the most inopportune time.

Elara pulled back her hand from Nyu's gentle grip and stepped backwards.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

Nyu just stared at her, her eyes blank, unable to speak. It was like a brick was blocking her throat.

"I —" she stammered with an unfamiliar feeling of helplessness.

"It was you who started all of this?"

Nyu sighed. "Yes, it was me. I stole the tome. I didn't know whose it was, I didn't even know what a fate tome was. But I delivered it to Malvorn."

Elara's features hardened like hot iron dipped into water.

"And you never bothered to tell us?"

"What good would it have done? Things happen — life happens."

Elara shook her head in disbelief, then turned around and stomped off.

Nyu reached for her shoulder, but her fingers only grasped cold air.

"Elara!" she hissed, but the other woman didn't stop or look back, wiping her face with her orange sleeves as she marched away.

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