Echoes of Fate: Isaki

The four cadets stood at the entrance of the fortune teller's tent, a strange sense of anticipation hanging in the air. Just as Rael reached out to pull back the entrance flap, voices from inside the tent stopped him. Someone was leaving.

The tent's entrance parted, and three boys stepped out. The one in the center, tall with short, spiked hair and a scowl etched across his face, looked particularly furious. His voice rose, agitated, cutting through the murmur of the market.

"That was a complete waste of money!" the boy shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. "This stupid fortune teller scammed me!"

His two companions, both girls, exchanged amused glances and stifled their laughter. The angrier the boy became, the more their smirks grew.

As they walked past, the boy—too distracted by his own irritation—bumped straight into Lian, knocking the bowl of grape ice cream from his hand. The cold, purple dessert splattered across the boy's shirt.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, one of the girls burst out laughing, nudging the other. "Look! The fortune teller was right!" she exclaimed, pointing at the stain on the boy's shirt. "She said you'd ruin your clothes today, didn't she?"

The second girl joined in, giggling. "Guess the prediction came true after all!"

The boy's face flushed with anger as he glared at the purple stain spreading across his shirt. He clenched his fists, his temper already frayed from the fortune teller's cryptic words. "You idiot!" he snarled, rounding on Lian. "Do you even watch where you're going? You just ruined my shirt!"

Lian raised his hands defensively. "Hey, it was an accident. You walked into me!"

Before the situation could escalate, Rael's expression grew tense. He leaned closer to Isaki and whispered, "These guys... they're cadets from Lachesis. We need to be careful. They're bad news."

Isaki's eyes narrowed as he sized up the boy and his companions. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, ready to defend Lian if necessary. The last thing they needed was a fight, especially with the local cadets. But before Isaki could act, another voice cut through the tension.

"Enough!"

A boy with brown hair and dark eyes strode up to the group, his steps quick and purposeful. His presence immediately drew attention. The angry cadet and his two companions turned to face him, their earlier bravado fading. The newcomer stood tall, his expression stern as he addressed the group.

"That's enough, all of you," the boy said firmly, his voice commanding respect. "It was an accident, and you're not going to make a scene here over something so trivial."

The furious cadet hesitated, his eyes flashing with resentment. But under the stern gaze of the newcomer, he grit his teeth, clearly unwilling to disobey. "Fine," he muttered, his voice low and venomous. He shot a sharp glance at Lian, his voice dripping with malice. "But I'll remember this. You'll pay for it."

With that, the boy and his companions turned on their heels and walked away, though the furious cadet glanced over his shoulder once more, his glare burning into Lian before he disappeared into the crowd.

Lian let out a relieved breath and turned to the boy who had intervened. "Thanks for that. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

The brown-haired boy waved it off. "Don't worry about it. They were already looking for a fight. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." He offered a small smile. "I'm Milo, by the way."

"Lian," Lian said, introducing himself. "And these are Rael, Isaki, and Sophia."

Milo nodded at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering briefly on Isaki before continuing. "Those cadets can be hot-headed, but they know better than to make a scene in the middle of the market."

Isaki, observing Milo closely, found himself rethinking his earlier assumptions. He had heard Rael and Lian talk about the cadets from Lachesis and the surrounding regions before, painting them as arrogant and aggressive, especially toward anyone from the southern lands. But Milo seemed different. Polite, level-headed—definitely not the type to go looking for trouble. Isaki's hand relaxed from the hilt of his sword.

"You're not like the other cadets," Isaki said, his tone neutral but curious.

Milo chuckled lightly. "I've heard that before. Not everyone from Lachesis is as bad as they seem. Some of us just want to do our part and avoid unnecessary conflicts."

Rael looked at Milo with renewed interest. "So, what about you? What brings you to the fortune teller?"

Milo shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I've already been. I wasn't here for myself, though—I came with a friend. The fortune teller... well, she's interesting, to say the least. But be warned, she's only been in Lachesis for about three years, and her predictions are... specific."

"Specific how?" Lian asked.

Milo looked thoughtful for a moment. "She can predict the future, but only for a very short span of time—like, today or tomorrow. And her predictions are more like riddles than clear answers. It's up to you to figure out what they mean."

Rael leaned in, intrigued. "And it costs how much?"

"One silver coin," Milo replied.

The group exchanged surprised glances. Even Isaki, who wasn't particularly interested in fortune-telling, was taken aback by the steep price. But something else piqued his curiosity—the fact that someone could truly predict the future, even if only for a short time. Yet, Isaki remained skeptical. He preferred to rely on his own strength and instincts rather than the words of some mystical figure.

Milo noticed their hesitation and smiled. "It's up to you whether you want to give it a try. Just be prepared for something cryptic. And remember—sometimes, knowing a little bit about the future can be more confusing than helpful."

With that, Milo gave a casual wave. "Good luck, guys. Maybe I'll see you around." Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the bustling streets of Lachesis.

Rael stared after him, thoughtful. "Well, that was... interesting. So, what do we do now? That fortune teller sounds like she could be worth the silver, but it's a steep price."

Sophia shrugged. "I don't mind either way. It could be fun."

Isaki sighed, already feeling the weight of the decision. "I'm not interested, but if you guys want to go, I'll come along."

Rael grinned. "That's good enough for me. I'm in."

Lian, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. "I think we should try it. Even if it's just for fun, why not?"

With the decision made the four entered the fortune teller's tent, they were immediately engulfed by the heavy scent of incense and the dim glow of candles flickering in the corners of the small, cramped space. Before them stood a modest wooden table, atop which rested a large, gleaming crystal ball, casting an eerie glow. Seated behind the table was an old woman, her appearance as unsettling as the tent itself. Her long, white hair fell in wild strands, framing her wrinkled face, while her red eyes seemed to pierce through them. Her lips curled into a crooked smile, revealing yellowed teeth that only added to her sinister appearance.

She studied the group silently, her gaze lingering a moment longer on Isaki, as if sensing something unusual about him. After an unnervingly long pause, her voice broke the silence, raspy and cold.

"Who wishes to know their future first?" she asked, her bony fingers drumming lightly on the table.

Lian hesitated, glancing at the others before stepping forward. "I'll go first," he said, his voice a little unsteady.

The old woman nodded, her sharp eyes gleaming. "Good. One silver coin," she commanded, extending her hand.

Lian fumbled for the coin, his fingers trembling slightly as he placed it into her palm. The old woman's cold, thin fingers closed around it, and she gestured toward the crystal ball. "Place your hands on the crystal," she instructed.

Lian did as he was told, resting his hands gently on the smooth, cold surface of the orb. Almost immediately, a strange warmth began to pulse through the glass, making his palms tingle. The old woman placed her hands over his, her long, thin fingers pressing down lightly, and she closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath.

For several moments, the tent was silent. The air seemed to thicken with an unseen tension, and Lian felt his heart beating faster, the anticipation building within him. Suddenly, the old woman's eyes snapped open, glowing a deep, unsettling red.

"Tomorrow," she whispered, her voice echoing as though it came from somewhere far away, "a wound shall befall you. Not a wound of the body, but one that strikes deeper. It will come without warning, and its pain will linger."

Lian blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing. "What... what does that mean?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

Rael exchanged a glance with Sophia, both of them equally puzzled. "That's... not exactly helpful," Rael muttered, scratching his head.

Sophia shrugged, frowning. "It's vague. What kind of fortune is that?"

Isaki, however, remained silent, his expression thoughtful. His eyes narrowed slightly as if the cryptic message had stirred something in his mind. He didn't say a word, but it was clear he was turning the old woman's words over, trying to decipher their true meaning.

The fortune teller withdrew her hands, her eyes dimming back to their normal red. She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. "Who's next?" she asked, her voice once again cold and detached.

Sophia shook her head quickly. "I think we'll pass," she said, still bewildered by the vague fortune.

Rael nodded in agreement. "Yeah... no point in wasting a silver coin on something we can't even understand."

The fortune teller's gaze drifted to Isaki, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And you, young warrior? You carry a burden heavy enough to break men twice your size. Are you certain you do not wish to know what fate has in store for you?"

Isaki hesitated, her words clearly having an effect on him. He stood still for a moment, considering her offer, but then his hand dropped away from his sword's hilt. "No," he said firmly. "I'll face whatever comes my way with my own strength."

The old woman's smile widened slightly, though there was something almost predatory about the way she looked at him. As the group turned to leave, she said nothing, but as the tent flaps rustled in the wind, her eyes glinted with amusement, and a faint, knowing smile crept onto her face.

Meanwhile, Arya stood alone in the central plaza, her sharp eyes focused on the massive clock tower. The hands of the clock were motionless, frozen in time. The townsfolk bustled around her, going about their daily business, but Arya seemed oblivious to the noise and movement, her gaze fixated on the unmoving clock.

From behind her, Ray approached, lazily chewing on a biscuit from a small paper bag he held in his hand. He walked up beside Arya, following her line of sight to the clock tower.

"Do you know what they say about that tower?" Ray asked casually, his voice soft yet filled with curiosity.

Arya didn't respond, her attention unwavering as she continued to stare at the clock.

Ray, undeterred, took a bite of his biscuit before continuing. "They say it represents 'the opportune moment.' The exact moment when something important is supposed to happen. Like... when it's time to begin a new adventure," he paused for a moment, his tone shifting, "or maybe... when it's the right time to meet the love of your life. Or, perhaps..." his voice lowered, becoming more serious, "the right time for revenge."

Arya's eyes flickered at his last words, her gaze finally shifting from the clock tower to Ray. She studied him, her sharp red eyes trying to pierce through his calm demeanor.

Ray met her gaze, his violet eyes unreadable. "Did I hit a nerve?" he asked, his tone almost teasing but with an edge of seriousness.

Arya narrowed her eyes at him, then turned her attention back to the tower. "Nonsense" she said coldly. "It's just an old, broken clock tower. It doesn't mean anything."

Ray chuckled softly, his gaze drifting back to the tower. "Yeah," he said, smiling faintly. "Maybe you're right."

The silence between them stretched on, but this time it felt heavier, filled with something unspoken. Arya's gaze drifted down to Ray's hand, noticing the bag of biscuits. She hadn't eaten all day, and though she didn't say anything, her stomach betrayed her with a quiet growl.

Ray caught the subtle glance and smiled knowingly. "You hungry?"

Arya hesitated for a moment but gave a small nod.

Without a word, Ray reached into the bag and handed her a biscuit. Arya took it silently, nibbling on it as if she was trying to keep herself distant from him. Ray, noticing her hesitation, simply shrugged and handed her the entire bag.

"Here. You can have the rest."

Arya blinked in surprise, glancing at the bag in her hands. "Thanks," she muttered quietly, her voice softer than before.

As they stood there, Arya glanced at Ray and asked, "What's your name?"

"Ray," he replied with a faint smile.

She nodded, seeming to commit it to memory. "I'm Arya," she said, her voice soft. "Remember that."

Arya looked at him, her sharp eyes studying his face. Despite her usual ability to read people, Ray's calm expression and laid-back demeanor made him hard to figure out. There was something unsettling about how easily he seemed to hide his true intentions.

Just then, the rumble of approaching carriages echoed through the square, breaking the moment of quiet tension between them. Arya turned to look as the carriages rolled into view, signaling that their time in the square was coming to an end.

Ray glanced at her once more, his expression unreadable. "Looks like it's time to go."

Arya nodded in silence, clutching the bag of biscuits a little tighter.