Several long, *long* explanations later, Fate strolled out of the doctor's house with Samantha in tow.
"You're pretty strong for a girl, huh?" he said absentmindedly. She had carried Yolden all by herself, Fate taking Fabio and Grend before going back for Jerome. He'd never seen a girl carry someone twice her size. Yolden was ridiculously tall for her age.
"My uncle always stresses the importance of physical fitness. Not that it did me any good," she said bitterly. "Thanks, by the way. Not that many people in this town would go out of their way to help someone else."
"Don't mention it. In exchange, how about you marry me? I don't want the money, but getting away from this shithole would be nice."
Still being a little kid, neither of them really thought about it that long. "Sure. Anyway, what's up with your eyes?"
Fate grimaced, turning his face away so she couldn't see them as easily. "No one knows. Old Man Travis says it might be a sign of a Facet, but Priest Desmond says I shouldn't get my hopes up."
"Well, I think they're pretty."
Fate turned to her in surprise, studying her face for traces of lying. "…Really?"
"Yeah, they look nice."
"…Thanks." He thought he felt blood rushing to his face, so hurriedly turned away.
From then on, Fate and Samantha were practically inseparable. They'd spend nearly every waking moment together, laughing and playing. It was nice to have a friend. Then came the fateful day he earned his stripes.
He knew in the back of his mind that he could ask for help from Samantha, but he had sworn that he didn't like her for the money. He refused any gifts she tried to give him, insisting that he liked her for her. And it was true, but that wouldn't save him from this.
As Fate felt his hot blood flow down his back and braced himself for the next strike, he couldn't help but notice Samantha in the crowd. Her look of utter betrayal stung worse than the whip. As it whistled through the air, cutting his skin deeper and deeper, he couldn't even feel it, his mind focusing only on the crying girl as she turned to leave.
"Samantha, wait!" Fate shouted.
It was three years later. Fate was seventeen, and Samantha had just become an adult. He'd spent the last three years trying to get her to talk to him, only to be met by her running away or, when he got particularly bold, the shotgun of her uncle. Knowing today was the day she was slated to return to her father in Fonford, he refused to let her go without speaking his mind.
She stopped in her tracks, letting Fate catch up to her. She refused to turn around even when he arrived, her arms crossed as she gazed forward. Fate stepped around to her front, looking into her pretty blue eyes. "We need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about," she said quietly. "It's obvious you care more about yourself than me, or else you would have asked for help."
"But we're supposed to get married! To see the world together!"
"What makes you think I'd ever marry someone like you?" Samantha sniffed, her nose wrinkled with disgust. "You're a freak, and always will be – "
"Boooooring," the shaman's voice echoed in Fate's mind. "I've already seen this part, why do you insist on focusing on it? No, let's see something else, shall we?"
Fate clamped his mouth shut as his father beat him furiously with his belt.
"Why would you do that, you stupid brat? Now the entire town thinks we're nothing but lowlife scumbags that can't even afford to feed ourselves!"
Fate ignored the whispers of the children around him, focusing on the Priest, who was detailing some of the many laws the Empress had revised.
"Look at him, acting like he's one of us."
"I heard his father beats him."
"Why shouldn't he? He's a freak."
"What's a freak?"
"It's what he is."
"You humans place too much emphasis on trivial things," the shaman snorted. "It's obvious you are a decent warrior by human standards; why care about your appearance? Skip."
A memory of Fate receiving his special boots from his mother. "Wow, mom! Thanks!"
"Skip," the shaman uttered.
Another memory. "Skip.
"Skip.
"Skip, Skip, skip. Do you know nothing that might aid our fight against the humans? At least your companions are more useful. … Wait. What's this?"
Fate could feel the imp press his Mana against an ethereal barrier somewhere in his mind, a dense fog of glowing white. An image of the yellow-skinned goat man appeared in his mind's eye, stroking his goatee as he gazed upon the construct.
"Interesting. Traces of Mana from someone above the Arch-Mage Stage. I've read of theories about this; they say that those 'Ascended' have entered a realm similar to this. But why would this be present in your mind, of all places?" The imp's yellow, gnarled fingers caressed the fog wall, bringing it back and rubbing his forefinger and thumb together.
"Curious. This is something physical. I can feel more memories behind this barrier. But again, why would someone so powerful bother with you? Lucky for me, it doesn't seem too hard to pass. It seems its only defensive measure was the difficulty of finding it."
Mana rushed out from the mental image of the shaman, flowing into the fog until the ephemeral Mana vapor flowed aside, revealing a treasure trove of glimmering white orbs containing moving pictures resting within alcoves in a glorious white hallway of marble. The imp mystic cackled as he touched upon the first one.
"Excellent! Exactly what I was looking for. The stories always told of a wider universe, but who knew there were millions of them? All that knowledge… I must have it! My brothers will rule all of this!
"After we trick the humans into casting my Spell and build up our power, I will bring my brethren to the farthest reaches of this so-called 'multiverse' and force it beneath my heel!" In the imp's glee at such a wealth of knowledge and land, his true intentions showed through.
Fate's mindscape rumbled, the beautiful white of the marble darkening to a sinister black as the orbs cracked, the pictures within spilling forth and darting past the shaman to burrow into Fate's mind.
"Wait, no! They're still here! No, no NOOOO!"
The mental image of the imp fractured, shattering into a thousand pieces. At once, Fate felt the pressure on his mind ease up, only for it to come back with triple the intensity as memories from another life wormed their way into his brain.