Page 79 of Evermore

Home. Or what passed for it these days. The perpetual twilight that once gave Etherium its beauty now felt oppressive, like the realm was being slowly crushed under the weight of failing power. Another crystal shattered somewhere in the distance.

We passed the Noctus Gate, its massive archway of black and gold, a monument to better days. The runes carved into its surface barely glowed now, where they once blazed with raw energy. Paths that had existed for millennia were beginning to unravel at their edges, reality fraying like worn cloth.

“Makes me sick to see the power fade so obviously,” Minerva said quietly, her eyes on the withering shadow gardens whereconstellation patterns once bloomed. Now they struggled to form even basic shapes before dissolving into true darkness. “But I’m glad you’re here to see it.”

“It’s been too long,” I said quietly. There were no excuses to be made for my absence.

We turned down a darker path, one most immortals never saw. The entrance to the Fates’ domain was nothing like the Noctus Gate, but rather a tear in reality, ragged edges rippling like cloth in a wind that didn’t exist here. My reluctance to enter had nothing to do with fear. Fear was for a weaker soul. This felt like losing control.

“Do you know what you’ll ask?” Minerva whispered, eyes homed in on the rip.

“I’ll ask them how to free her from the madness.”

“And if they don’t answer?” she asked, rising to her full height.

“Then I’ll ask about the Forgotten.”

“Reverius—”

“I’m sitting with about a hundred problems on my hands, Minnie. I’ve got to figure out Alastor, the power, my Ever, the Fera, my brother… The list goes on and on. If they’ll guarantee my return from there, that alleviates your trepidation and solves another of my problems.”

She shook her head, wisps of silver hair that’d loosened from her bun crossing her face. “You assume they won’t lie and that’s reckless.”

“I’ll hear whatever they have to say and weigh my options after. I’m not completely fucking helpless. I’ve been around longer than you, in case you’ve forgotten.”

She smirked. “How could I? You always remind me five minutes before you do something foolish.”

I took a step back, sliding my glasses down my nose. “Do you think the Fateswantan imbalance of power?”

“They can’t see every path the way your brother does and you’ll not convince me otherwise, no matter what you say. If that were true, they would have seen Ezra’s plan, fought the gods that pinned them to their loom, and I would not be holding a fraction of their power.”

I paused, letting her words melt over me. Arguing with Minerva about the Fates was like arguing with me about the origin of a realm. She knew them on a more intimate level than any god. She’d also spent more time learning about them than anyone in existence. She wanted to be free from their hateful power. And she deserved that freedom.

“I’m not sure the Fates want anything at all. They’re not selfish beings. Even you can’t argue that fact. Their loom is built from neutrality. The threads of Fate are simply meant to exist. It’s their job to create those moments in their loom.”

Stepping through the anomaly of existence felt like being torn apart and rebuilt in the same instant. One moment we stood in the dying twilight of Etherium, the next we faced an endless void that somehow contained everything that could ever be. Every path not yet taken, every choice not yet made. Raw power crackled through the air like lightning without light, each spark a potential future trying to claw its way into reality.

“It’s not too late to turn back,” I whispered to the strongest woman I’d ever known as she came up beside me.

“I hold a piece of them now,” she replied. “Perhaps they will see reason through that connection.”

“They’ll only see the Wrath, Min.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Good. Because that’s exactly what I feel. And I’m here because I told you I would stand beside you as long as you don’t go to the Forgotten. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to fight that urge. But I’ll not see you fade into nothing, Reverius Hawthorne Noctus. Evenif that means a little tough love from someone who’s known you longer than most realms have known daylight.”

My power stirred restlessly beneath my skin, responding to the pure potential surrounding us. But none of it mattered. Not the pain. The ramifications. The cost. Not even the gods that would whisper about this day for centuries. Only her.

I stepped forward, power erupting outward, golden threads of magic weaving through nothing. The void shuddered. My boots scraped against something that wasn’t quite floor, wasn’t quite air, sending ripples of possibility spreading outward into the darkness. Nothing about this space was settling. I’d have rather spent a century in Death’s Court.

Three voices, the Fates, spoke into my mind as one, their words reverberating through my bones, though no being stood before us. “You dare?”

“I do.”

Minerva swayed slightly backward, and I knew without asking they’d entered her mind for a different kind of torture. Likely stoking the Wrath they believed had been stolen from them.

Their laughter sounded like a thousand small bells, each slightly out of tune. But underneath it lay the scrape of thread against thread, the endless working of the loom that bound them. “The Keeper grows bold in his desperation.”

“Or foolish,” another voice added.