Bound By Fate

chapter 9: The weight of the SYRUP

As the golden rays of the morning sun poured into the grand hallway, the Sora buzzed with unusual urgency. Nam sprinted towards Goddess Freen's room, her breath labored and face drenched in sweat. She knocked on the door, her fists trembling as she waited, until finally, the door creaked open.

"Goddess," Nam gasped, her voice filled with dread. "The real Becky Armstrong is standing in the hallway. The one you’re with is... an imposter. Please, distance yourself from her."

Becky, who was in the room, felt a wave of cold panic wash over her. Her heart pounded as she turned to see Freen’s face, searching for any hint of belief or doubt.

Freen met Nam’s gaze, calm yet intense. "How certain is your information, Nam?"

Nam swallowed hard. "I’m 90% sure, Goddess."

A faint smile touched Freen’s lips. "I believe you are mistaken."

But Nam didn’t falter. "Goddess Wanviva is in the hallway with the Almighty. They’re waiting for you. Please, move ahead, my Goddess—I’ll bring her after you."

With a small nod, Freen stepped forward and left the room. Nam’s grip tightened around Becky’s arm, half-dragging her down the hall. Becky’s mind raced with regret. She could have escaped last night, with the syrup safely in her hands. Instead, she’d let herself stay. She’d allowed herself to lie there, wrapped in Freen’s embrace.

Flashback...

The night before, silence enveloped the room as Freen lay beside Becky, her hand gently resting over Becky’s. They had spent hours talking, their laughter blending with the soft glow of candlelight. Finally, Freen looked at her, eyes brimming with a love so deep it made Becky’s heart ache.

"Will you be my wife, Becky?" Freen’s voice was barely a whisper, but it held a gravity that weighed on Becky’s chest.

Becky’s mind froze. She hadn’t expected Freen to say those words, not tonight. Her instincts screamed at her to refuse, to keep her heart closed. But staring into Freen’s gentle gaze, she felt her defenses falter. Unsure, she gave a timid nod, her lips curving into a small, nervous smile.

Freen’s expression softened, her fingers tracing a light path down Becky’s arm. "Take your time, my love. There’s no rush."

After a few moments, Freen rose from the bed, reaching for a small vial resting on the table. She turned back, holding the vial between them—a tiny, glowing bottle filled with shimmering, golden liquid: the magic syrup. Freen placed it in Becky’s hands, the warmth from her touch lingering.

“Tonight, I trust you with this,” Freen murmured, her eyes warm with a deep trust. “If you ever needed to leave, to find your way, this could be your key.”

Becky’s fingers trembled around the bottle as her thoughts raced. She understood what Freen was offering her—freedom. She could slip out of the palace under the cover of night. She knew every hidden hallway and passage, and the syrup in her hand would give her the power to escape unnoticed. She would reach the hidden trail behind the east garden, where the shadows swallowed all light, leading her beyond the palace walls. With one sip of the syrup, she would move like a ghost, undetected and free to return to the life she’d once known.

She glanced back at Freen, who lay down and closed her eyes, oblivious to Becky’s thoughts. Freen’s breathing softened, a peaceful rhythm that lulled the room into a hush. The vial felt heavy in Becky’s hand, yet she hesitated. Every part of her mind urged her to go. This was the escape she’d long planned, the perfect chance to sever her ties to the goddess and the dangers of this world.

But as she watched Freen’s sleeping face, memories from the past days surged through her—their laughter, their quiet conversations, and the kindness Freen had shown her despite knowing so little of her past. Becky’s fingers relaxed around the vial as doubt gnawed at her resolve. She had the power to leave, to disappear without a trace, yet her heart resisted.

With a deep sigh, she tucked the vial under her pillow and lay down beside Freen. The familiar warmth of Freen’s arm draped over her waist brought her a strange comfort, a feeling she hadn’t felt in years. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the pull of sleep, her last thought lingering on the one truth she could no longer deny: she loved the goddess.

End of Flashback

Present...

Now, as Nam pulled her down the hallway, Becky felt a cold weight settling in her chest. She didn’t fully understand why she felt this way, but one thing was clear—this felt like her dead end.

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