Chapter 5: Fate

  The Night After the Declaration

  The cold night wind swept through the castle’s highest balcony, carrying with it the distant hum of the city below. Lethe stood near the edge, arms resting against the stone railing, staring blankly at the view. Even with the kingdom celebrating his knighthood, the streets still looked the same—lanterns flickering, people moving about their lives, unaware of what had just happened.

  Not that he cared.

  The title of "knight" meant nothing. He had always been of noble blood, and yet it had never meant much to him. Now, he was just another pawn moved to a more important square.

  Footsteps echoed from behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

  “How did you even find me?” Lethe asked, still looking at the city.

  Aery leaned against the railing beside him, smirking. “I have my ways.”

  He gave her a side glance, unimpressed. “Right.”

  For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was the kind that settled naturally, like the quiet of a calm sea before a storm.

  Then Aery finally broke it. “You don’t seem happy about it.”

  Lethe let out a breath. “It’s just a title.”

  She tilted her head. “Most people would be thrilled. Being knighted is a big deal.”

  “And yet, here I am.” His voice was flat, uninterested.

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  Aery watched him for a moment before asking, “Why are you like this?”

  Lethe didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he let his gaze wander over the rooftops, eyes tracing the outlines of buildings until they faded into the darkness. Finally, he exhaled and spoke.

  “I don’t know,” he started, his voice quieter than before. “I guess I’ve just never really felt like I had a purpose. I fight, I survive, I move forward—but for what? People live their lives chasing something, thinking it’ll give them meaning. Power, wealth, legacy. But no matter what they do, it all ends the same.”

  He glanced at her. “What’s the point of chasing something you can never truly keep?”

  Aery blinked, caught off guard by his words. “That’s... a bit grim.”

  “Is it?” Lethe asked. “The ultimate fate of everything is nothingness. No matter what you achieve, no matter how far you go, time erases it all. People will be forgotten. Kingdoms will crumble. Even the stars will fade.”

  Aery stayed silent, watching him carefully.

  Lethe’s voice grew colder. “And none of this was my choice.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I never asked for this,” he said, turning fully toward her now. His eyes, usually calm, held something deeper—something bitter. “I never wanted to be strong. I never wanted this knowledge, this obligation, this... duty.”

  Aery opened her mouth to respond, but he kept going.

  “People look at me and expect something. Like I owe them, like I have to play the role they gave me. But I never agreed to any of it.” He scoffed. “All this strength, all this responsibility—do you think I wanted it?”

  She hesitated. “But… it’s not all bad, right? You have power. You can do things others can’t.”

  Lethe shook his head. “And what if I don’t want to? What if I just wanted to live quietly, without being dragged into this endless cycle of expectations?”

  Aery stared at him, absorbing his words. The wind whistled through the balcony, carrying their silence.

  Then, softly, she asked, “Then why do you do it?”

  Lethe exhaled. “Because if I don’t, someone else will suffer for it. Because no matter how much I want to ignore it, the world won’t ignore me.”

  Aery’s expression softened. “That sounds less like obligation and more like… you care.”

  He didn’t answer.

  She leaned forward, resting her chin on her arms. “I think you’re wrong about all of this.”

  Lethe gave her a questioning glance.

  “Sure, nothing lasts forever. But why does that mean it doesn’t matter?” She turned to him. “The fact that something is temporary is what makes it valuable. If you knew you had all the time in the world, nothing would mean anything. But because time is limited, everything we do carries weight. Every moment matters more.”

  Lethe didn’t reply.

  Aery continued, her voice softer now. “You say people fight to distract themselves. But what if they fight because they care? What if they love because it’s worth it, even if it doesn’t last forever?”

  Lethe’s fingers lightly tapped against the stone railing. “Maybe.”

  Aery grinned. “You should open up more. See? Isn’t it nice to talk to someone about this?”

  He glanced at her, then looked away. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  She laughed. “Progress is progress.”

  Another silence settled between them, but this time, it felt different. Less heavy.

  Lethe exhaled, looking at the horizon. “Yeah... but what about when that time does come?”

  Aery turned to him, confused. “What do you mean?”

  Lethe’s gaze was distant, his voice quieter. “You say that now. That everything matters because it doesn’t last. But when the time finally comes—when there’s no going back, no second chances—will you still feel the same? When time passes, it’s gone forever. Like a tide that never returns.”

  Aery’s expression faltered, just for a second.

  For once, she didn’t have a quick response.

  The wind picked up, carrying the scent of the ocean from far beyond the city.

  The night felt colder.

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