The city of Ordania never slept.
By day, the streets bustled with the noise of merchants hawking their goods, nobles parading in their finery, and the inevitable echo of the Fatebound Knights marching through the streets. The Fatebound Order was omnipresent, their watchful eyes ever searching for anyone who dared step out of line with the universe's carefully laid plans. In their eyes, everyone had a role. A Fate Brand that determined who they were meant to be.
Except for Jude Kastor.
At 17, he was the only person in the kingdom with no Fate Brand—no destiny, no future, no future to shape. He had no path laid before him, no purpose other than to survive, constantly hunted by those who feared what he could do. It wasn't freedom; it was chaos, and chaos was dangerous in a world where everyone else lived according to the script.
He'd been on the run for as long as he could remember.
This morning was no different.
Jude's boots pounded against the cobblestone streets, his breath coming in sharp gasps. His clothes—simple, nondescript clung to his skin as he darted through the crowd, keeping his head low. His mind was racing. He didn't have to look behind him to know they were there.
The Fatebound Knights.
The sound of armored footsteps clanged behind him, closing in with unnerving precision. He couldn't outrun them—not forever. But he had to try.
With one swift motion, Jude veered off the main street, weaving through a narrow alley, his heart thudding in his chest. The noise of the crowd behind him began to fade, replaced by the rhythmic pound of his pulse. He wasn't just running for his life; he was running to stay free. The Fatebound Order wanted to capture him, to erase him, to bind him to a life that wasn't his. They thought he was a threat.
He didn't care. He was done with following their rules.
The alley ahead opened into a marketplace, where the clatter of carts and shouting vendors filled the air. Jude dashed between the stalls, knocking over crates of fruit and startling customers. He barely glanced over his shoulder, but the sound of heavy boots and the clang of armor told him they were gaining.
"Stop!" a voice called from behind. A familiar voice. One that made Jude's skin crawl.
Dante Graves.
Jude knew that name all too well. Dante was a Fatebound Knight, but unlike the others, he wasn't just any knight. His Fate Brand—the Unstoppable—made him a living legend. It was a mark of power that ensured he could never lose a fight, as long as he followed the script laid out for him. A direct combatant, a blade honed by fate itself.
Jude had already defeated him once. But not without consequences.
The world was unforgiving when it came to breaking fate.
Without warning, a force slammed into Jude's side, knocking the breath from his lungs. He skidded across the cobblestones, his body scraping against the rough surface. His vision blurred for a moment as pain shot through his ribs, but he gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. He could already hear the approach of Dante's heavy footsteps, a steady drumbeat signaling his inevitable arrival.
"You should've known better than to think you could outrun fate," Dante's voice rumbled from the distance. "There's no escaping it. Not even for you."
Jude's lips curled into a smirk, his breath ragged. "Is that so?" He wasn't about to give up, not to someone like Dante. Not to anyone.
He reached into his coat, fingers brushing against the hilt of a small, hidden blade—a simple weapon, nothing too special, but enough to give him an edge. But before he could draw it, a force slammed into him again, sending him tumbling backward into a stack of crates.
Dante stood above him, the gleam of his silver armor catching the sunlight. His hand was raised, a sword crackling with energy in his grip. "You can't change fate. It's already decided."
Jude groaned, shaking off the dizziness, but something in him snapped. His eyes flashed with a fierce determination, and his hand shot out, grabbing onto the edge of a broken crate.
"If fate's decided for me, then it's wrong."
He thrust his hand forward, and the world seemed to bend.
Wildcard Rewrite.
The air seemed to hum with energy, and in that split second, Jude altered the world around him. The blade in Dante's hand shimmered, its trajectory shifting ever so slightly. The sword, meant for Jude's throat, veered to the left. The consequences were immediate—a cart of barrels crashed into Dante's side, knocking him off-balance.
Jude wasted no time. He sprang to his feet and bolted toward a nearby rooftop, using the momentum to propel himself up. The world bent and warped around him as he dashed over the rooftops, narrowly avoiding more knights rushing in from the streets. His mind was buzzing with the repercussions of what he had just done. His power—altering fate—always came with a price. But he couldn't think about that right now. He needed to get away.
The Knights Were Closing In.
As Jude leaped from one building to another, he could hear the air vibrate with the hum of something more intense. His senses went on high alert, but he didn't stop. If anything, it made him move faster. A screech echoed through the air, the unmistakable sound of a Fatebound Knight's warhorn, signaling reinforcements.
A sudden flash of light blinded him. His instincts kicked in as he dove forward, narrowly missing the surge of magic that collided with the rooftop, shattering it behind him.
"Fate is inevitable," Dante's voice rang out from below, a thunderous roar. The rumble of the air distorted as he activated his Fate Brand—the Unstoppable. Jude could feel the energy swirling around Dante, forming a barrier of unbreakable fate.
Jude sprinted across the roofs with impossible speed, his legs aching but his resolve unshaken. He reached the edge of a building, but instead of slowing down, he threw himself off the ledge, twisting his body midair.
He wasn't just running—he was rewriting. He felt the world shift under him. With a snap of his fingers, the ground beneath him cracked open, a torrent of energy flooding from the cracks, sending him soaring over the next rooftop. The backlash was immediate: a gust of wind slammed into him, knocking him off course for a moment.
But the jump had bought him the time he needed.
His breath came faster. Sweat stung his eyes. And still, the city below him roared. The chase was far from over. The Fatebound Knights were relentless, and even though he was far ahead, he could feel them closing in. He wasn't just fighting to survive now—he was fighting to stay free.