Turn Your Back On Fate

“`Who are you?”` (text-style: "condense")[`It doesn't matter-`] `“It matters to me.”` <span style='font-family:Trebuchet MS'>`It doesn't matter-`</span> (font: "Trebuchet MS")[*`It doesn't matter-`*]

`“Say there is a story. This is a story you love, and it has finally come to an end.” The thoughtless sigh shakes the walls of the tower. I wait for the tremor to pass before continuing. “It is a sad ending. A terrible, heart-wrenching, damned thing of an end for a hero who once loved a kingdom with all his soul.” Just outside the labyrinth of books, endless shelves filled with stories old and new, the crackle of the fireplace can be heard. Its warmth permeates the room, making the starless night beyond the tower seem even colder. “There is a chance to change it. But there’s no guarantee it will be any better, or that you’ll change anything.” The words are like stones scraping against my throat. But the ink dancing over my skin as I flick through blank pages curls around my fingertips, urging me onwards. “Would you still try to change that story’s ending?”` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Yes", "Q2")[(set:$story to it + 1)]`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "No", "Q2")[(set:$story to it - 1)]`]` `[`(link-goto: "...", "Q2")`]` (set: $story to 10)

`The book flies out of my hands, almost furious as it scrawls out a large “yes” on the blank page. A smile forces itself onto my lips, envy sprouting within me at the decisive answer. “If only it were so easy…`

`The book pushes closer, pages fluttering open and a small “no” appears on the blank space. A forced laugh slips off my tongue, my gaze turning to the ground. “No? I suppose it’s too impossible. `

`The book lies pliant in my hands, saying nothing. My eyes curve into small crescents, my tongue heavy as I try to speak. “…There’s no good answer, huh? `

(if: $story is 11)[(display: "Yes")](else-if: $story is 10)[(display: "...")](else-if: $story is 9)[(display: "No")]`Still, I want to—“ I swallow the wish down and bury it in the pit of my stomach. Waving the book away as I walk towards the fireplace. My gaze locks onto the closed door just beside it, my heart still whispering the dream I keep trapped inside.` *I want to create another ending.* [[Next->You 1]]

`“Hey.” My attention shifts from the falling sun to Cain, freezing up when I see the dark shadow over his face. It’s only when he’s within arm’s reach that he stops and looks down at the book, a stern frown on his lips. “What do you want from me?” The question comes out of nowhere. My thoughts scatter and I almost drop the page, anxiousness gripping my heart. I wonder if I can get away from him without answering, but from the hard glint in his eyes, he won’t let me escape from this. What do I want from him…? Even I don’t know. Anxious, I whisper beneath my breath, “What am I meant to say?”` `[`(link-goto: "The ending must change", "Change")`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Fate cannot win", "Fate")[(set:$story to it - 1)]`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "The hero needs a good ending", "Good")[(set:$story to it + 1)]`]`

`(It is the first time you’ve seen the hero let down his guard like this. It is almost unbelievable, and you wonder if you imagined everything that just happened. But when the hero walks away, you look at the god’s face and— Gods do not dream. They do not sleep and so their nights belong only to the stars and the eternal darkness. When you see the god’s face though, they look like someone who has just woken up from a dream. When the god disconnects from the page, that starlit gaze dazed and confused, you stay and wait for the hero to walk out of the shadows, because you can still feel that chilling gaze piercing through you. Though he is only a mortal, he somehow seems to know when the god is watching. “Tell me why I should trust your god.” It sounds more like a plea than a command, and it is enough to throw you off. For once, you are given the choice to talk to the hero himself, and you…)` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Talk about his story", "His story")[(set:$story to it - 2)]`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Talk about the god", "The god")[(set:$story to it + 1)]`]`

`I stare at the words, reminded of my first wish. It’s true, I did want his ending to be different. I didn’t want to see my hero go that way.` (text-style: "condense")[`[I want to change your ending.]`] `There’s an unreadable look in his eyes, something I can’t understand through the pages of the book.` (if: $story >= 12)[(display: "Watching")](else:)[(display: "Nvm")] [[Next->You 3]]

`My brows furrow as I contemplate the words. I nod though, because I didn’t want that fate to come true.` (text-style: "condense")[`[I want to defy your fate.]`] `When Cain reads those words, he goes silent. There’s something different about him, his downcast gaze revealing nothing of his thoughts. He sighs after a moment, brushing his fingers through silver hair and giving the book a cold look.` (if: $story >= 12)[(display: "Watching")](else:)[(display: "Nvm")] [[Next->You 3]]

`My heart stumbles at the sight of those words. As embarrassing as they are though, they aren’t wrong, so I try to write an answer without setting my face on fire.` (text-style: "condense")[`[I want to give you a good life.]`] `He frowns, the hard lines of his face more pronounced. He stares at the book, his gaze searching as if he thought he could see beyond the pages and at… But no, he couldn’t. Could he?` (if: $story >= 12)[(display: "Watching")](else:)[(display: "Nvm")] [[Next->You 3]]

`“Ever since I became a hero… no, even before then, I always felt someone watching me.” This time, I do drop the page. The abrupt disconnect snaps me out of my stupor and I pick up the page again, re-establishing the link as twisting lines of ink encircle my fingers. Cain’s stare is the first thing I notice, brows furrowed as if he could tell something had changed. His expression returns to its usual frown the next second though, leaving me wondering if it was just my imagination. “That gaze never left me. From when I was a stupid little child to when I became a soldier, there was always that feeling of someone staring down at me.” The book floats closer, trembling as its pages flutter with a gentle swish. Cain reaches out and grabs the book, grip firm yet gentle as he contemplates the black cover. I can feel the heat of his palm over my hand, the ink trails writhing over my skin in a restless manner. I ignore the heat that flushes my cheeks, leaning closer to the page as if I could touch him through it. “It was a gentle gaze. It did nothing to harm me, only watched in silence as I fought and survived all those decades of war. Even at my worst, I never felt alone because of that presence.” His next words are soft, but they strike harder than any sword. “I wanted to know the person behind that gaze.”`

`“Never mind. You don’t need to know.” Cain turns away before I can write anything else, walking away without another word. …His back looks lonely, somehow. `

(set: $story to 10) (go-to: "Q1")

`(In this tower, time has no meaning. You don’t know whether years, decades or centuries have passed since you came to this tower, stuck in the form of a book as you kept the lonely god company. But you know… You’ve never heard the god sound so desperate before. When you fall from the top of the tower and land before the jaded eyes of a hero, you wonder if this story is worthy of the devotion of a god.)` [[Next->Q3]]

`“…A book? No, nothing so simple as that.” The sharp voice rings out in the silence, cold and unfeeling. The book remains frozen as the hero of the story, Cain, draws his sword out. The ink on my skin almost drips off the closer he gets. I sense his threat even with the space of reality between us, my hands shaking as I struggle not to rip the page apart and stop here. I can’t give up now. I still… “Who are you?” Cain asks with a rough voice, strands of grey falling over his eyes. He looks at the book with a gaze like cold steel and— He looks older than I expected. Words cannot convey the eternity I see written in his eyes, the lines on his face that speak of endless decades. There is strength in his body still, a hero’s bearing that fills me with a sense of disbelief because this is my` *hero*`, the one who’s defied Fate, time and time again. Hunching my shoulders as I curl up against the fireplace, I force myself to keep watching, grasping at the wisps of ink on the blank page threatening to disconnect me from the book. No matter how hard I try to see through him though, there is no hint that telling the truth would make him trust me. How should I respond?` `[`(link-goto: "Say your title", "Title")`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Say your name", "Name")[(set:$story to it + 1)]`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Say nothing", "Nothing")[(set:$story to it - 1)]`]`

`Fates arrives with a stab in the back and a call for war. Cain does not avoid the blow even with my warning, unwavering gaze freezing the traitor in place before cutting him down. He doesn’t stumble, looking out at the frontlines where the battle was only just beginning. It is then, I realise, that the hero written in Fate’s design only lost the war because he gave up on his kingdom. But this hero… “What should I do?” This hero hasn’t given up yet. For once, I can feel him looking at me. Somehow, through the pages of the book, he can see me still stuck in the tower, reading his story. Now, the hero is depending on me. The useless me that can only read the stories around me, who can only watch and do nothing else — and the hero is asking me for help.` (if: $story >= 13)[(go-to: "Q7")](else-if: $story <= 10)[(go-to: "Q7")](else:)[`…I don’t know what to say.` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Let him go", "Q7")[(set:$story to it + 2)]`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Let him choose", "Q7")[(set:$story to it - 1)]`]`]

(if: $story >= 13)[(display: "Go")](else:)[(display: "Choice")] [[Next->You 4]]

`I bite my lips. I can’t make the choice for him. I couldn’t control the story from here on.` (text-style: "condense")[`[Do what you think is right.]`] `He closes his eyes. A heartbeat passes and I watch him, waiting to see what he will do next. When he opens his eyes again, I see something die in his eyes.`

`A calm settles over me. …I can’t hold onto him forever. I had to let the story go.` (text-style: "condense")[`[Do what makes you happy.]`] `He closes his eyes. A heartbeat passes and I watch him, waiting to see what he will do next. When he opens his eyes again, I see something glow in his eyes.`

(if: $story >= 13)[(go-to: "Good End")](else:)[(go-to: "Bad End")]

`Days and weeks and months and years pass before the filth is cleansed from the dark depths of the kingdom and Cain manages to eliminate the opposing army. The spies are rooted out, those nobles with blackened hearts chased away, his honour restored with their disappearance. It is the same routine after that, the hero returning to his beloved kingdom and beholden in glory and praise. It is a far-cry from the Fate I saw for him, and the relief that washes through me when I see the cheers welcoming him home almost brings me to tears.` `The only difference, however— “I will no longer protect you.” His voice is still cold. Gaze sweeping over the distressed faces of the crowd below, he stands with the same steadfast bearing and strength that I saw when we first met. In his eyes though, I see something that makes my empty chest feel warm, a soft light I thought I would never see. “Your Fates…it is up to you to change them now.” When he leaves the kingdom, with only a small sack slung over his shoulder and the clothes on his back, I urge the book to follow after him. He stops us with a single glance though, looking straight at me across the reality of the story. “Who are you?” It’s a question I’ve heard before, one that still makes me hesitate. I shake my head and echo the answer I gave him so many years ago.` (text-style: "condense")[`[It doesn’t matter—]`] `“It matters to me. I want to find you.” The sentence is interrupted and I am rendered utterly defenceless by his words. Pulse stuttering as the ink scatters across my skin, I struggle to keep writing.` (text-style: "condense")[`[You won’t find me. Even I don’t know where I am.]`] `And then. There’s light. The shine in his eyes is brighter than any star in the endless night and it is a sudden thought, that maybe this is the real heart behind the hero. “I will. I’ll drag you out of that prison and show you how worthless that thing called Fate is.” It’s a vow with no power, no more binding than a pinky promise shared between two children or the vague wishes of mortals. But I find myself never wanting to believe in anything more than this right here. “Whatever you want, you can have. There is no Fate that will stop you.”` *I want—* `He closes the book, and the ink at my fingertips disappear as I return to the cold, empty tower. I stare at the door and think that maybe, maybe, he can be the one to open it.` [[Next->Good End 2]]

`Days and weeks and months and years pass before the filth is cleansed from the dark depths of the kingdom and Cain manages to eliminate the opposing army. The spies are rooted out, those nobles with blackened hearts chased away, his honour restored with their disappearance. It is the same routine after that, the hero returning to his beloved kingdom and beholden in glory and praise. It is a far-cry from the Fate I saw for him, and the relief that washes through me when I see the cheers welcoming him home almost brings me to tears. However… For some reason, there’s something missing. It itches at my chest, tells me that this is not what I wanted, but everything is exactly as it should be. Isn’t it? “Did we change the ending?” Shaken from my thoughts, I look at Cain and try to see through his blank expression. Hesitating for a moment, I respond.` (text-style: "condense")[`[Yes. Everything is okay now.]`] `I wait for something. Maybe relief that he has dodged death again, or that his Fate has been overturned. There is nothing though, only a soft exhale that I can barely catch. “Good.”` (text-style: "condense")[`[Can I...stay?]`] `He nods, and it is the only time the pain in my chest goes away. Yes. Everything is okay. As long as he's still alive, then this is fine. I can stay by his side. I can keep reading his story. The smile on my lips feels unnatural, almost painful the more I try to force it. Brows furrowing, I watch Cain surrounded by millions of people, those common folks rejoicing as they enter an era of peace once again. Despite the joyous occasion, despite the laughter and the cries of jubilation, there is no smile on his lips. Instead, he continues to stare up at the sky, gaze hollow with something that I recognise. The sinking feeling returns again. We changed the ending, so why…` *Why does it still feel wrong?* [[Restart]]

`Seeing the words, I hesitate before nodding. It is the only appropriate answer I can give. I trace the words onto the paper in my hand, ink appearing where my finger touches. His gaze never wavers as he reads my response.` (text-style: "condense")[`[I am the God of Stories.]`] (display: "Stories")

`I shake my head. He doesn’t need to know such a useless thing. Ink appears where my fingers trace an answer on the paper.` (text-style: "condense")[`[You don’t need to know who I am. It’s not important.]`] `Seeing him raise his sword, I quickly scribble out another line.` (text-style: "condense")[`[I am just a God of Stories.]`] (display: "Stories")

`If I say nothing, won’t he get angry…? True enough, a cold voice speaks out. “If you don’t say anything, then I’ll just cut this form apart.” Panic overtakes me and I quickly write out a line on the paper. ` (text-style: "condense")[`[I’m only a God of Stories, don’t be impulsive.]`] (display: "Stories")

`“God of Stories?” The title gives him pause and his blade lowers a bit. Cain’s lips quirk up in the beginnings of a smile and, sardonic as it is, it still makes my breath stutter. “What story are you searching for here? There is nothing but tragedy to be found in a world like this.”` *He knows?* `A chill runs through my body. If he already knows the Fate of his story, then why is he still here? Why isn’t Cain doing all he can to prevent it from happening? I grit my teeth. The paper wrinkles as I jab my finger over it, the strokes almost harsh. ` (text-style: "condense")[`[I still want to see it.]`] `Whether he is walking to the end of the story willingly, or he remains unaware of the disaster ahead…I still want to change his Fate. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just as the little courage I mustered begins to fade away, leaving only a faint sense of humiliation, I hear him scoff. There is no smile that can be seen, eyes dark with disdain. “Do what you like. It doesn’t matter.” He sheathes his sword and walks away, no longer paying the book any attention. There’s a carelessness that I didn’t expect from him, as if he truly no longer cared about anything. ` *…Is this really my hero?* [[Next->You 2]]

`(You see the confusion on the god’s face, the despair slowly sinking into their eyes. The hero is cold, you think, unworthy of this lonely god’s love. But you see their resolve return, as if it never wavered, and so you follow behind the hero and pretend to care about this tragedy of a story. Forget it. If the god wants to stay, then you will stay for them.)` [[Next->Q4]]

`In the week following our first meeting, I take the time to stare at the world around us. It’s so much more than words could ever describe, so full of life and wonder and it is hard not to lose myself in the sounds and sights I would never see in my tower. The bustling towns are so loud it’s almost deafening, the colours vivid and blinding. I don’t blink when we pass through, taking everything in with wide eyes. The only thing that disturbs me is the silence that appears when people see Cain, mistrustful gazes flickering over but not daring to remain. This is their saviour, their hero of a thousand wars. And this is how they repay him? Ungrateful. It’s the prelude to his coming Fate, betrayal that would send his story off to an ending I refused to see. The more I think about it, the more words I write condemning those people, venting my bitterness to Cain. Though I’m certain he’s ignoring me, his eyes only skimming over the pages, it makes me feel better afterwards. Seeing Cain close his eyes as the night comes, his sleep as shallow as usual, I cut off the connection temporarily and let the ink disappear from my skin. Seeing the familiar sight of the endless books again, I let out a sigh. Even with the fireplace burning gently as always, it feels colder in the tower. “He isn’t doing anything,” I can’t help but mumble, shuffling closer to the fire in a feeble attempt to regain some warmth. “Maybe he doesn’t know about his Fate? But how can he not care about…” About what they say about him? Unfeeling. Cold. Monster. I rub the bridge of my nose. “Maybe…I should comfort him? But does he even need my help?”` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "He's fine", "Fine")[(set:$story to it - 1)]`]` `[`(link-reveal-goto: "Talk to him", "Talk")[(set:$story to it + 1)]`]`

`“…You’re right.” I shake my head and try to get rid of the disappointment in my heart. Though I know that such matters wouldn’t concern him, I still wonder if he’s really so unaffected. Then again, Cain is stronger than anyone else. He’ll surely be okay.` [[Next->Q5]]

`What is there to talk about… An idea pops in my head. The moment Cain wakes up the next morning, I write out my question.` (text-style: "condense")[`[Is there a story you love?]`] `He frowns. “I don’t have any stories.”` (text-style: "condense")[`[Everyone has a story. Surely, there is one that you treasure?]`] `“I only know tragedies. Are those the stories you seek?” It’s a bit awkward…still, I push onwards.` (text-style: "condense")[`[I prefer happy endings. Fate writes many endings, not all of them happy, but…it doesn’t always have to become truth. There’s a story I know where the hero defies Fate a thousand times and—] `] *Dies at the end.* (text-style: "condense")[`[—gets his happy ever after.]`] `Silence. And then, “it sounds like a cliche story.”` (text-style: "condense")[`[It is the one I treasure most.]`] `He doesn’t speak again. I sigh and don’t write anything else. This guy is hard to talk to. ` [[Next->Q5]]

`(Ink traces over the pages, and you begin to write out the tale the god has read a thousand times. It is the tale of a hero who defied Fate at every turn, whose path was paved by his own hands. It is a tale of growing distrust, fear of a mortal with the strength of gods, and it ends with betrayal and a hero fighting alone against an army. You also write, with soft strokes, about a god who reads the tale with all the devotion of a worshipper. You think that this is what he needs to hear. Maybe this will help him survive the Fate that will come, maybe make him realise that there is a reason to keep the story going. When you finish writing, you look at him and see… Disappointment. He does not say anything. The hero shakes his head and, silent as sadness, retreats back into the shadows. You return to the god and, seeing their desolate gaze, hope that there is another chance to make another choice.)` [[Next->Q6]]

`(Ink traces over the pages, and you begin to write out the tale of a lonely god who lives within a tower beyond the stars. Of eternity passing by with only the stars and a storyless book as a companion, and of a story beloved by that god. You write about the emptiness of the endless night that you see outside the tower, of shelves and shelves of books that let the god catch glimpses of the worlds they cannot see. “What do they look like?” Maybe you would have smiled if you could. You think for a second and trace out a slight figure, ink-hair stark against pale skin, eyes bright with stardust and stories and oh so lonely. “What else?” You write until the sun begins to rise, until you feel the god stir and begin to poke at the page again, wanting as always to see more of the hero. Before you cede control to the god again, you hear a voice that is softer than a whisper. “Thank you.”)` [[Next->Q6]]

`(In this story, you are a character, a reader, and a writer. You have read the story of the god and their hero and become a part of their narrative. You start to question yourself. Did you do enough to help the god? Did you both only love the story of a hero defying fate? Or did you help the god see the hero as someone more than a character? Have you done enough to rewrite their ending?)` [[Next->Ending]]

`I let out a shaky breath. The page crinkles beneath my fingertips. There really is no one here now. It’s cold. The fireplace has long since gone cold, dying after the last book was burned to ashes. There’s only the sound of my breathing. How long have I been waiting? Who am I waiting for? Without Fate, without the stories keeping me alive, I can only place my hopes on a path not yet carved out in front of me. What is it that I want?` *I want…* `There’s a tapping sound that rings out. Opening my eyes, I see the door in front of me and feel my lips curve up into a smile. The knob turns. The immovable door clicks open, light pouring from outside, and I extend my hand to the blurry figure just beyond my reach.` *I want to make my own story.* [[Restart]]