A ripple in the water shattered the crystal-clear surface of the dark underground pond like a broken mirror. The faintest of splashing sounds resonated from the smooth cave walls and turned into a gentle hum as it faded into silence. A silvery back fin emerged, translucent like moonshine and rutted with marrowy ridges. The scaly white body it belonged to coasted just an inch below the water surface, reflecting the dim lights of the lanterns as a faint shimmer.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Malvorn said with a low voice.

Senya didn't know what to make of it. Upon returning to the palace, the guards had taken her through a maze of corridors and staircases until they'd reached a small cave illuminated by lanterns driven into the stony walls with thick iron bolts. Past a narrow natural walkway, there lay a smooth body of water, barely ten feet in diameter. Malvorn had been standing at the edge, hands behind his back, motionless, but awaiting her arrival. He hadn't spoken until just now.

"Moonshimmer fish," Malvorn continued without looking at her. "They learned to adapt to the darkness of this world, and they became the largest and strongest fish in these waters."

Senya remained silent and watched the creature as it silently glided through the pond. Through its cover of scales, she could see the outlines of organs and intestines.

"They are all dead," Senya spoke into the silence, but Malvorn seemed not to hear her.

"Some think the Moonshimmer fish is a great survivor, a victor. But they are wrong."

He closed his meaty fist, and his voice turned gravely.

"Accepting one's fate and making the best of it is no victory, it's defeat."

"It's a fish," Senya murmured, "what do you expect it to do?"

Malvorn glanced at her with serious eyes.

"Evolve," he breathed, and opened his fist.

Senya returned his gaze.

"That easy, hm? Just grow legs and walk out of this cave."

A hint of anger flashed across Malvorn's face and made his pale skin look like crumpled-up paper. A moment later, however, the annoyance gave way to a sinister smile as he straightened his posture and brushed imaginary dirt off his dark blue robes.

"So you did what I asked you to."

It wasn't a question, but Senya still felt the need to respond.

"I did, yes."

The sight of Kwan's chest meeting the pointy end of a lance flashed before her eyes. Then, a

carpet covered in blood and bodies, the stench of death wafting through the neatly furnished lobby, mixed with a sulfurous smell from the explosion that had ripped half the room and most people in it into pieces.

"Good," Malvorn said slowly, and the word hung in the air like an anvil. "How did it feel?"

His dark eyes rested on her with cruel curiosity.

Senya considered the question for a moment. At first, she had felt a surprising lack of anything resembling an emotion. But towards the end of it, right when she expected to be drowning in remorse, there had been a new feeling, one she hadn't felt for a long time.

"It felt powerful."

The sweet desire for vengeance had let her here, but it was power she'd found, at least a taste of it. She had doomed the members of the resistance, bringing on their deaths with a simple decision. Never did anything she'd ever done have such an impact — a gruesome impact, but a powerful one. And she liked the sensation it brought with it, like a rush of heat that washed through her mind and numbed the pain, at least temporarily.

Malvorn's menacing chuckle interrupted her train of thought.

"That was but a mere glimpse of power," he rasped.

Senya shrugged. "I know. Still felt good to not be on the receiving end of it for once."

Malvorn studied her for a moment, then showed his yellow teeth in what barely passed for a smile.

"You've done well," he said quietly, "and you'll find that I keep my promises. I said I would help you get revenge, and more, if you want. But our way is not for the faint-hearted, nor does it tolerate a lack of commitment."

"I think I got a good impression of your ways," Senya murmured, thinking back to the slaughter in Orinath's house.

"And did it frighten you?" He stared at her with his eagle eyes, driving his gaze into her skull.

"No," she said casually.

Malvorn's scrutinizing eyes examined her for a couple of seconds before he finally responded.

"No indeed," he concluded. "You have what it takes — resolve. And to think you've been working as a bartender for most of your life."

He gestured dismissively, as if the thought was just ridiculous.

"We'll make sure to explore your full potential. We'll see what you're truly capable of."

Senya knew she had now chosen a path that couldn't easily be undone. But with everyone she once cared for dead or gone, she was curious enough to see where it would take her.

"What will you have me do?" she asked without fear.

Malvorn massaged his silver-lined beard.

"All in due time. For now, you can rest. As a token of my gratitude, you can stay in one of the rooms in the guest wing. My staff will see to it that you are properly taken care of."

Senya didn't know what to say. She had not expected to be treated well, not even fairly. A part of her had expected Malvorn to just have her executed once the deed was done, not put her in one of his fancy rooms.

"That seems oddly generous," she said warily.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"It does, doesn't it?" Malvorn mused, his gaze drifting through the room. "Maybe I am not as evil as you thought. Or maybe, you would do best to accept a gift when it's offered to you, before someone changes their mind."

The tone of his voice grew sharper, but Senya could tell he was not going to harm her.

"Fine, I'll rest. But then what?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Then, we destroy the Fateweavers."

Senya could almost taste the bitterness in his voice.

"Do you truly believe we can beat them?"

Malvorn glared at her. "You are asking dangerous questions, child."

"I mean, last time we fought them," Senya continued without respecting his warning, "they crushed us, didn't they?"

A low rumble escaped Malvorn's throat.

"Last time," he whispered ominously, "we were foolish. Last time, we didn't play to our strengths. Last time, I wasn't the leader of the Fateless."

He tossed back his dark hair and exposed his square jaw, adorned with scars from past fights, presumably ones he won.

"What are our strengths, then?" Senya inquired.

A sinister smile spread Malvorn's pale lips.

"I can tell you don't know when to stop. We shall see if that is a blessing or a burden."

Senya could only imagine what would happen if she turned out to be a burden to Malvorn or his cause. At the same time, his threats seemed awfully hollow to her, even though she knew perfectly well that Malvorn's path to becoming their ruler was paved with the lifeless bodies of his adversaries.

The broad-shouldered man sighed. "Our strengths are cunning and guile. We act in darkness, we embrace the shadows — or so they think. The last thing they will expect is for us to take the fight to them. Last time, we merely defended ourselves against their military might. We fought them like partisans, throwing ourselves into their blades like fools. It was a slaughter, but culled the strong from the weak. I was still a boy then, and still I knew what had to be done. All my life, I had to convince and inspire people, or eliminate them if neither one worked. But as much as some of our people may hate me, they fail to see that I'm their only way to greatness. I know what needs to be done, and I am destined to see it through. The Fateweaver's downfall is just a matter of time. Their end began long ago — they are just too blind to see it. They are already standing at the edge, we just have to push."

He glanced at her with fire in his eyes and soul.

"And if you play your part, you can help push."

Senya considered his words for a moment. It was ironic to think that all her life she had ridiculed Nyu for wanting a different life — and yet, now, that her old life lay in shambles before her, she had managed to be at the forefront of Malvorn's grand vision of destroying the Fateweavers and leading them out of Morathen's darkness. The strands of destiny had entangled her without warning, and here she was, allying with the madman they had for a ruler. And yet, she found it harder to ridicule his aspirations than she'd expected.

"Do you really think we have to destroy the Fateweavers to live in peace?" Senya asked, fully aware of how naive the question sounded.

Malvorn's eyes grew cold and distant, and he stared at a dying torch on the other side of the pond.

"As long as they live, there can't be peace. We did not choose this war — they did. Our entire existence is a bane to them — one they will always want to eradicate."

Senya nodded and followed his gaze.

"And we are past the point of no return," he continued somberly. "They know where we are hiding now."

Senya shuddered. The thought of Cylion's army marching into Morathen and killing everyone they found sent shivers down her spine. But then she remembered that there was no one left she had to worry about, and the thought was freeing.

"Sounds like they are not as naive as you think."

"On the contrary," Malvorn said and smiled his evil smile. "I let them find out where we live by acting openly for the first time in decades. And they think themselves so clever for figuring it out, despite the fact that we hid under their noses for centuries."

"What if they come here?" Senya asked skeptically.

"Oh, but they are already on their way, sweet child."

The surprise in her face seemed to amuse Malvorn.

"They are planning to kill me, you see. Let them try, I say. We'll be showing them what Fateless hospitality is all about."

"How do you know they are planning to kill you?"

"A curious one, are you?" He grinned. "I have my sources. It helps that the Fateweavers still underestimate us. Their arrogance will be the dagger in their back, and I will be the one driving it deep into their rotten flesh."

His rumbling laughter echoed through the small cave, causing ripples on the black water's surface.

The Moonshimmer fish had vanished, just like Senya's innocence.

#

Leaving Malvorn and the underground pond behind, she was taken back to the residential area of the palace, escorted by an arrogant servant who scoffed every time a guard came into view. They didn't speak while they walked, but would sporadically exchange suspicious glances. The haggard man probably wondered why someone who looked just as poor as he did deserved such an honor — meanwhile, Senya wondered if he knew the woman who had ratted out her sister, ultimately leading to their mother's death.

Of course, in the light of recent events, Senya knew she had no moral high ground to stand on anymore, but that wouldn't stop her from paying this lady a visit one of these days. Same as the guard captain who had delivered the final blow. Of course, she wouldn't just point-blank attack them — despite her recent involvement in mass murder, she was no fighter. But she started to suspect that she had other gifts, and she was intent on using them to her advantage.

After navigating the corridors with efficient precision, and after passing a massive oak portal the size of a small house, the servant declared that they were now in the guest wing. The walls were a warm orange, the floor lined with velvet carpet. Marble busts and oil paintings on both sides of the hallway were interspersed with large wooden doors, all of them framed by richly decorated stone arches. Long candles throned on tall golden stands, shining a flickering yellow light onto their surroundings, and a heavy scent of incense hung in the air.

"Your room will be on the right," the servant droned out and pointed at the third door on the right. "If you need anything at all, it will be my pleasure to be of service."

His voice was insincere, and his face carried blatant resentment.

Senya nodded and approached the door. When she entered, she was greeted with a splendor she had never dared to even dream of. Intricately crafted wooden furniture with the finest of silk upholstery, paintings in golden frames as thick as her torso, a chandelier like a mountain of crystals above a canopy bed in sapphire blue, with three mattresses stacked on top of each other. There was a freestanding bathtub to the side, with silver armaments and delicate feet, surrounded by ornate wardrobes that reached all the way to the plaster-covered ceiling. Masterfully woven rugs were stacked on the floor, each of them attempting to trump the others with its elegance, while the statues in the corners of the large room stood watch on their tall pedestals with copper plaques.

When the heavy door snapped shut behind her, there was complete silence. Senya stood motionless for a long moment, taking in her surroundings. She wondered what kind of guests Malvorn typically hosted, and for what purpose. But first and foremost, she wondered how any one man could have such an abundance of wealth. Wood was a precious resource down here, for there were no natural sources, and so a room full of it might as well have been covered in gold leaf. There was a time when the sight that presented itself to her would've disgusted her — now, it just filled her with envy and ambition. Living her whole life in acute poverty had blinded her to the fact that there was a different world, a better world, where people did not have to worry about essential needs, like whether there would be a meal at the end of the day — or any time at all. And then there was the upper class, Malvorn and his entourage, and no one she ever met had known what their lives looked like. Now, against all odds, she did, and she liked what she saw.

Senya hopped onto the bed and sank into the soft sheets. She could tell her muscles were yearning for comfort, and they relaxed almost immediately as she sprawled out her tired limbs like a spider. Above her, the blue canopy presented its silvery pattern of what she assumed to be stars, and for the first time in her life, she wondered what it must be like to lie on a wide field under the open night sky. Nyu had told her stories, but she'd never bothered to actually imagine. She had been occupied with daily struggles and the hardship of taking care of her mother and herself. Now, she felt at ease — or at least temporarily appeased. There was still the throbbing anger deep within her, but for a brief moment, she allowed her mind to calm down.

She would need her strength for what was to come.

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