Warlock Ch 17. It's Destined in One's Fate
Damian wanted to press further, to demand more answers, but something about the way she said it made him pause. There was a truth in her words, even if it was incomplete, and for the first time, he realized that maybe Evelyn was as caught up in this as he was. She wasn't some all-knowing figure guiding him; she was navigating this world too, bound by rules he didn't yet understand.
He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair, staring down at the half-eaten bowl of stew in front of him. "Right… So, basically, I've got no choice but to play the game," he muttered, a bitter edge to his voice. He hated feeling like a pawn, like his life was no longer his own.
"Not exactly," Evelyn said gently, leaning forward slightly, her eyes holding his. "You can choose how you play it. But ignoring the rules won't keep you safe."
Damian let her words sink in. It wasn't just about surviving anymore—it was about navigating a world filled with power plays and dangerous alliances. He was part of it now, whether he wanted to be or not.
He stared at the bowl again. This was his life now. Magic, factions, power struggles—it was all real, and he was right in the middle of it. There was no going back to his old life, no escaping what he had become.
"Well," Damian said after a long pause, picking up his spoon again and forcing himself to take another bite, "I guess I'd better get used to the fact that nothing in my life is going to be simple anymore."
Evelyn smiled softly, but there was a trace of sadness in her eyes, as if she understood that all too well. "No, it won't be. But you're not alone in this. I'll help you, Damian. You just need to trust me."
Damian met her gaze, still uncertain but feeling a flicker of something—maybe hope, maybe determination—begin to stir in him. He wanted to believe her, to trust that she had his back in all of this, but doubt still gnawed at the edges of his mind. "I'm trying," he said quietly. "I really am."
Evelyn nodded, her expression softening further. "That's all I can ask for."
They sat in silence for a few moments longer. Damian could feel the weight settling on his shoulders, and while he wasn't sure what the future held, he knew that his next steps were crucial. He couldn't afford to hesitate anymore.
Evelyn stood up, breaking the quiet. "You should get some rest," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "You've had enough for one night."
Damian glanced at her, then at the dishes on the table. "I can help you clean up," he offered, feeling like he needed to do something, anything, to take his mind off everything that had happened.
But Evelyn shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "It's fine. I've got it. Besides, I need some time to think."
Damian didn't push the issue, sensing that she wanted some space. He nodded, standing up slowly, his muscles sore from the tension and magic that had coursed through his body earlier. "Alright. Thanks... for dinner, I guess."
Evelyn chuckled softly. "You're welcome. Go rest. Tomorrow, we'll start figuring out what comes next. The bed is upstairs."
Damian made his way toward the stairs, pausing for a moment to glance back at her. Evelyn had already begun gathering the dishes, her movements calm and efficient, but there was a distant look in her eyes, like her thoughts were far away.
He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Evelyn than she was letting on, more to their bond than she had explained. But for now, all he could do was take things one step at a time.
He climbed the stairs and felt the exhaustion hit him all at once. His mind was buzzing, but his body was begging for sleep. He slipped into the bed, the soft sheets feeling strangely comforting against his chaotic thoughts.
Staring at the ceiling, Damian let out a long breath. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but he knew one thing for sure—his life would never be the same.
Eventually, exhaustion caught up with him, and his eyes grew heavy. He drifted into a deep sleep, hoping for some peace, some escape from the chaos. But his mind had other plans.
The dream hit him, pulling him under into something unfamiliar and unsettling. He was back in that strange, blank space—the one from before, when he had first touched the artifact. The air was thick, charged with a kind of magic that felt ancient and powerful, like it had been waiting for him for centuries.
A voice, low and echoing, called out to him.
"Damian..."
He turned, his pulse quickening. The artifact—the same one from before—hovered in the distance, glowing faintly, like it was alive. The strange, pulsing energy radiated from it, calling to him, pulling him in.
Damian hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to turn back, to run. But something deeper, something primal, urged him forward. He took a step, then another, until he was standing in front of it. His hand hovered over the artifact.
"Who are you?" Damian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I am... what you've always known," the voice replied, calm and deep, resonating in his chest. "I am the power you fear. The power you crave."
Damian's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about? I didn't ask for any of this."
"You did not need to ask," the artifact responded. "It was always meant for you."
"Meant for me?" Damian's hand trembled as he reached out to touch the artifact, his fingers inches away. "Why me?"
The artifact's glow pulsed. "Because you are the key. The bridge between worlds. Between light and darkness. You cannot escape it."
Damian's heart raced. The words felt heavy, like they carried the weight of a destiny he didn't want. "But I don't even know what that means. I'm just... I'm just a guy. How am I supposed to handle all of this?"