Fates Entwined

Chapter 5: Threads of Fate

The sky over the city darkened as Risha stared out of her apartment window, her thoughts a tangled web. She tried to push the day's events out of her mind, but Sol's grateful expression lingered stubbornly in her memory. She shook her head. Sol was just being kind.

Wasn't she?

Far above the mortal plane, Eron paced within his shadowed domain. The jagged rocks of his exile shimmered faintly, catching the molten gold of his eyes. His fingers trailed over an obsidian shard etched with ancient runes, a relic of his former glory.

Once, Eron had been among the most revered of the Immortals. Known for his charm and intelligence, he had harbored a secret affection for Anastasia, Risha's mother. But Anastasia had spurned his subtle advances, devoted instead to her mortal-bound duties as a guide.

When Risha's father, Eckhart's sister— Troissa, Miri's mother and Anastasia's sister-in-law—uncovered Eron's plans to harness forbidden power and bend the mortal realm to his will, she exposed him. The Council stripped him of his status and banished him to a forsaken realm.

Eron's hatred festered, growing like a venomous vine. Anastasia's rejection, Troissa's betrayal, and now their daughters walking the mortal world—it was too much.

"They will fail," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl. "And when they do, I will finally have my revenge."

With a wave of his hand, he conjured a new vision of chaos. He would exploit their distractions, twist their emotions, and ensure their mission was doomed.

At the office, Sol was in her element, handling a crisis with effortless poise. But her thoughts kept drifting to Risha—her quick thinking during the fire, her selflessness.

"Sol!" Ashan, her best friend and longtime confidant, called as he walked into her office.

Sol greeted him with a tired smile. "Hey, what's up?"

Ashan dropped into the chair opposite her desk. "Just checking in. Heard about the fire. You okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks to Risha," Sol said, the corners of her lips curling into a smile.

Ashan raised an eyebrow. "Risha? Isn't she the quiet one from your team?"

"She's more than that," Sol said, surprising herself.

Ashan studied her. "You like her."

Sol blinked, heat rising to her cheeks. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Sol."

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know. She's just... different. She doesn't try to impress anyone, and she genuinely cares about people. It's refreshing."

Ashan's chest tightened, though he kept his expression neutral. He had admired Risha for months—the way she quietly supported her team, her subtle humor, her unassuming grace. But he'd never acted on it.

"You should tell her," Ashan said after a pause, though his words felt heavy in his throat.

Sol laughed nervously. "And ruin the professional dynamic? No way. Besides, she probably doesn't even see me that way."

Meanwhile, Risha sat at her desk, lost in her thoughts, when a small box appeared before her. She looked up to see Sol, who smiled shyly.

"Hey," Sol said. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately, so I thought this might cheer you up."

Risha opened the box to find a beautifully crafted pen with her initials engraved on it.

"Oh, wow," Risha said, genuinely touched. "This is... really kind of you. Thank you."

Sol shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just thought you could use something nice."

Risha smiled. "I really appreciate it."

As Sol walked away, Risha turned the pen over in her hands, marveling at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. She chalked it up to Sol being a great mentor, nothing more.

That evening, Ashan and Sol grabbed drinks after work.

"So, what's your plan?" Ashan asked, swirling his glass.

"My plan?"

"With Risha."

Sol sighed. "There is no plan. She doesn't even think of me that way."

"You don't know that," Ashan said, though the thought of Sol pursuing Risha twisted in his gut.

Sol leaned forward, a determined glint in her eye. "Even if she doesn't, I just want to be there for her. She's... worth it."

Ashan took a long sip of his drink, masking the ache in his chest.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "She is."

Across the city, Eron watched the scene play out through his conjured orb, a sinister smile spreading across his face.

"This is getting better. Let's see how you handle this mess, dear Risha," he whispered.