Page 57 of Once Written in Gilded Blood

“Do you mean that one of us must die?” My voice weaves between them, but they only smile ominously.

The Fate covering its mouth approaches me and reaches into its cloak pocket before extending its hand to me, holding something. I hadn’t realized how much larger the Fate was than me before, but now that it’s standing here, it’s intimidating. The skin is damp and wrinkled as it lifts the item to me.

It’s something wrapped in old torn cloth. I take it from its hand and flinch when I realize it feels like a dagger of some sort.

“We brought you here to give you this.” Their voice curls around me and makes my stomach churn.

I swallow uneasily and start to unwrap the dagger. Sweat breaks out over my brow when I see that it’s my mother’s knife. It’s the only thing she left for me when she delivered me to Alzhor.

“My mother’s dagger?” I say slowly, glancing back up at them. “What do you intend for me to do with this?”

The other Fates approach me as the one covering its mouth had. “It is not hers, but ours. You will need this when you find your way back to make the sacrifice.”

I open my mouth a few times, but nothing comes out. I’m floored and nervous. “I have to kill someone with this?”

They stare at me with hollow eyes. “It must be written in gilded blood.”

Those words again. My spine stiffens, and I feel like I can’t breathe. “This is how you change a fate,” I whisper. They all give a gradual nod.

I turn to look at the dagger in a better light from the wall sconces at the head of the tunnel.

“But…” I mutter as I slowly look over my shoulder back at them and come face-to-face with the wall of the cave. The room is gone and so are the Fates, the cauldron, everything.

Everything but the dagger in my hand.

My feet are heavy as I walk back down the way I came.

I quickly leave the cave and come out, surprised to see that the mist has lifted, but there’s still no village. Instead, ahead of me is just a wasteland. It looks like a bog with tall dark trees jutting out from mud pools. Root systems that have long gone overgrown and twist through the moss-covered paths that weave between water and bark.

Where am I now?

My gut twists, hopelessness seeping in as I take in the abandoned scape.

I’m lost.

Chapter 22

Alira

I find myself reminiscing since I’ve found myself in a place where I have no idea where I am, and the land stretches out all around me. Thinking about what could have been if Kalel and I had been more understanding of one another, and more open to changing our fate together instead of arguing about the past.

I wonder if Kalel is still down here like I am. Lost and hopeless, wondering if there is still a way back out of Mortem even though so much time has passed. It doesn’t seem likely, but then again, Venus did say that every second in the world above is an hour here.

It’s been a little over a week already of being lost and hopeless in the swamplands. Time moves oddly here. So slowly that you lose your mind to it quicker than your senses. All that’s left to do is reflect on your mistakes and what you would take back.

If I could go back, I would tell Kalel that I want to hear him out. Hear his apologies that I ignored.

After the Fates left me, I searched this place for the better part of a day, and I found an abandoned cottage much like the one that Kalel and I found on our first day together after the time loop. It’s a small home with a kitchen, living area, and a bed by the fireplace all in the same room.

It was easy to make this place my temporary home as I searched for a way out of the misty swamp, but solitude quickly turned into loneliness, and then into longing. I thought about my kingdom and Devicit for long hours that stretched into longer days.

This is my punishment. I only wish Kalel were here with me.

Now I regret not being able to resolve things while we were alive. I just hope that Kalel got to be with his mother again. I hope he has found peace.

I make another mark on the page to count another day passed.

The bed creaks as I sit down on it and pull the sheets up to my chin. I stare at the ceiling and count the dry flowers hanging from it as I do every night. They were here when I arrived, and ironically, they are the dry peonies from Kalel’s palace.