Bound By Fate

Chapter 10: Echoes of the Past

Goddess Wanviva, one of the most revered deities in Sora, stood as a vision of perfection, with beauty that seemed to capture the radiance of the heavens themselves. Her flawless skin gleamed under the soft morning light, and her eyes held the wisdom of countless centuries. But beneath her poised exterior lay a broken heart-a hollow void that even her divine powers couldn't mend.

Centuries ago, Wanviva had given her heart to a mortal whose spirit had captivated her beyond reason. Their love, though brief, was bound by an intensity that seemed destined to transcend realms. But that person had vanished, swallowed by time, leaving Wanviva alone with memories that never dulled. She had refused countless suitors, her love forever frozen in the past. Even as the world around her changed, she remained faithful to a ghost, the pain turning her once-gentle soul into something unyielding and impenetrable. Now, in her heart, there was no room for warmth or softness-only the cold steel of her resolve.

No one knew the name of the one she loved. The secret of her past was whispered only to the Almighty, who watched over Sora with omniscient eyes. He alone understood the burdens Wanviva carried, and perhaps he alone sensed the pain behind her stoic expression. To others, Wanviva had become the heartless goddess-an enigma, an immovable force, feared by many and understood by none.

In the dimly lit hallway, Freen approached, her movements graceful yet deliberate. She was followed closely by Nam, who held tightly to Rebecca's hand, her eyes darting between Freen and the girl waiting in the center of the hallway. Freen's face remained calm, almost serene, her confidence unwavering. She knew the truth, and with each step, her certainty only grew stronger.

The girl in the hallway, who claimed to be the real Becky Armstrong, stood proudly, meeting Freen's gaze with a piercing stare. Her presence radiated a quiet intensity, her posture confident, even defiant. But where Freen held a calm and genuine smile, the girl wore a smirk, one that hinted at danger lurking beneath her cool exterior.

For a brief moment, an eerie silence filled the space, the weight of it pressing down on all present. Freen's gaze never wavered. Her eyes scanned the girl, not with fear, but with a steady, discerning calm, as though she were peeling back layers to uncover the truth within. Nam gripped Rebecca's hand tighter, sensing the tension that was thickening like a dark cloud overhead.

Freen took a small step forward, her voice gentle yet firm. "So you claim to be the real Becky Armstrong," she said, her tone devoid of doubt or hostility. "But I know better than to be swayed by appearances."

The girl's smirk grew wider, her eyes narrowing as she held Freen's gaze. "Do you?" she replied, her voice smooth and taunting. "I wonder if you truly know what you're getting yourself into."

There was a shift in the air, a subtle yet palpable tension. Freen sensed it-the underlying threat, the veiled malice in the girl's voice. She knew something was off, something beyond the girl's mere presence. Deep within her, an instinct stirred, a faint warning that trouble loomed closer than ever before. But Freen remained composed, her heart steady, her faith in the truth unshakable.

Behind her, Nam's face grew pale, and she glanced at Rebecca, whose own expression mirrored the dread of impending conflict. Rebecca's heart raced, her mind a storm of conflicting emotions. She felt the cold grip of fear creeping over her, yet she couldn't tear her eyes away from the goddess standing before her. She had come to love Freen, even as her own secrets threatened to unravel.

Wanviva observed from a distance, her face impassive, her eyes piercing. She had seen many things in her time, countless souls passing through the realms, but something about this confrontation stirred an ancient memory buried deep within her-a flicker of something she hadn't felt in centuries. She clenched her hands, her mind a battlefield between forgotten emotions and the cold detachment that had become her armor.

Finally, Freen took another step forward, her voice barely above a whisper but powerful enough to cut through the tension. "Whatever you're planning," she said, her gaze unwavering, "it won't shake what's real."

The girl laughed softly, a sound that echoed ominously in the hallway. "We'll see," she replied, her voice carrying an edge that sent a chill down the spines of those who listened.

In that moment, Freen understood-whatever game was unfolding, it had already been set in motion, and today would mark a turning point. But she was ready to face it, her heart anchored by the truth she held dear, while the others watched, feeling the weight of fate pressing down upon them all.

.........