The city of Ordania had fallen silent after the battle, the distant echoes of combat reverberating through the streets. Jude's heart still raced, but now it was from the threat of being hunted, not from the adrenaline of a fight. The Fatebound Knights were relentless, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep outrunning them.
He ducked into an alley, hoping to lose himself in the shadows, but something felt off. A strange sense of being watched sent a chill down his spine. He froze, listening.
"You're a hard one to catch," a voice called from behind him. It was calm, calculating—almost too calm.
Jude spun around, hand going to his sword. His eyes scanned the area, but the voice seemed to come from nowhere. That was when he saw her—standing at the mouth of the alley, staring at him with piercing blue eyes.
She didn't move, not at first. Her silver hair shimmered in the dim light, and the faintest trace of a smile tugged at her lips, as though she were watching a game unfold. But there was something about her, something that made Jude's instincts flare with warning.
"Who are you?" Jude demanded, taking a step back, his body tense.
The girl didn't flinch. Instead, she stepped forward, the faintest trace of grace in her movements. "Elara Wyn," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I'm sure you've heard of me."
Jude's brow furrowed. "Elara Wyn? The girl fated to die in three days?"
A shadow passed over her face for a split second, but she recovered quickly. "That's right," she said, her tone as calm as before. "I'm supposed to die in three days. The prophecy is clear."
Jude's eyes narrowed. He had heard whispers about Elara, the girl from a noble family who was marked for death by fate itself. But standing in front of him now, she didn't look like someone who was about to meet her end. In fact, she seemed... unaffected.
"Why don't you try to stop it?" Jude asked, his voice low.
She gave a small, bitter laugh. "Stop it? How do you stop something that's already been written? I'm marked. That's how it works in Ordania. Fate says I die, and that's it. There's no escaping it. Not even for someone like me."
Jude's eyes flickered, the weight of her words settling on him. He knew how it felt—being marked by destiny, shaped by an invisible hand that no one could fight. But Elara wasn't like him. She was accepting it, letting it happen. The thought gnawed at him.
"You're not afraid?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Elara met his gaze, her blue eyes unwavering. "I was afraid," she said quietly. "But not anymore. Fear doesn't change what's coming."
Jude felt a flicker of something—sympathy, maybe, or guilt—but he quickly shook it off. He couldn't afford to get distracted by emotions. This wasn't his problem. She wasn't his responsibility.
And yet, despite himself, he found his thoughts lingering on her. She was marked for death, and nothing he did could change that. Could it?
"I'm sorry," he muttered, his words almost lost in the air between them. "But there's nothing I can do."
Elara's lips curled into a faint smile, but it was devoid of warmth. "I know. You're not a hero. And you shouldn't try to be."
He stiffened at her words, irritation rising in him. "I don't need your judgment," he snapped. "I've got my own problems to deal with."
Her eyes lingered on him, studying him as if trying to unravel a puzzle. "You're not just any person, are you? You're the one who can break fate. The one who can rewrite destinies."
Jude froze. He hadn't expected her to bring that up. He had spent years running from it, avoiding any attention to his powers, afraid of what might happen if people understood what he could do.
Elara took a step closer, her tone shifting into something more inquisitive. "So why haven't you rewritten my fate? You're the Wild Card, aren't you? The one who defies the script. Why can't you rewrite my ending?"
Jude's face twisted into a grimace, a sense of frustration boiling up within him. "It's not that simple," he muttered, but the words felt hollow, even to him. "It's not like I can just change everything on a whim. There are limits to what I can do."
Elara's gaze sharpened, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? If you can alter fate, why can't you rewrite mine?"
Jude let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fate's... complicated," he began, unwilling to meet her gaze at first. "I can change certain things, small moments—decisions, actions, events. But the bigger the change, the bigger the backlash. There's a cost to altering the course of destiny, and sometimes that cost is too great. The world... compensates for the changes I make. If I tamper too much, the universe will strike back."
Elara watched him closely, her expression unreadable. "So you're saying you can't change my fate because doing so might cause something worse? That the consequences might be more than you're willing to risk?"
Jude's eyes flickered. "Yeah," he said slowly, his voice tinged with frustration. "Something like that. The fate that's already set for you—it's a chain. If I try to break it, something else might snap. Something worse, something... bigger."
Elara didn't say anything for a moment, but the silence between them was heavy. She seemed to be processing his words, trying to figure out if he was lying or if he was simply afraid.
"Then what am I supposed to do?" she finally asked, her voice soft but tinged with a trace of bitterness. "Just wait for my death? Accept it like a good little puppet in this world of fate?"
Jude looked at her, the weight of her question sinking into him. For the first time in a long while, he didn't have an answer.
He clenched his fists. "I'm sorry, Elara," he said, his voice quieter now, raw. "I wish I could do something. I really do. But sometimes... fate just doesn't give you a choice."
Elara's eyes softened for a moment, and her smile returned, though it was faint. "I know. But maybe—just maybe—I'm not done yet."
Jude wanted to argue, wanted to tell her to face reality. But something in the way she spoke—the calmness, the quiet acceptance—made him hesitate.
Three days. Her time was running out. And maybe, just maybe, fate wasn't the only thing that needed rewriting.