The Fate Weaver

Chapter 3

Ever since the time we were ten, we always went out to the Hampshire Park across our house to ride on a couple bike. Like always, Jack sat on the front, and we both peddaled, I watching his face intently and gingerly. We used to enjoy the gale, the feeling of rush of the wind.

Now, a dark look had been imprinted on his face like he was carrying the world's burden, not speaking to me at all. What was he going to say that was going to make me hate him? I couldn't imagine myself loathing him.

We stopped at a hill, and while he parked our bike, I watched him. So much sadness and confusion filled his beautiful grey eyes, that I almost wanted to hug him and ask him what was amiss.

Afterwards, we sat on the hill, on a stripped mat, but he stood, like he was not supposed to sit, the muscles in his jaw jumping.

"Athena." He called, pronouncing my name carefully. "Do you remember me?"

He had squatted before me, his face so close to mine I could count his freckles and see his deep irises burning into mine.

"Uh-duh. Jack, this game isn't so funny. It's weird. Of course. I don't have dimentia," I said, half of me filled with an icy trepidation, my heartbeat in my temples.

"My name is not Jack," he said.

Silence lingered, as he searched my face with hope, and I searched his with sceptism. "Do you feel sick? Do you by chance have fever?"

"My name," he said slowly, "is Magnus."

That mere syllabus hit me hard like a good solid wave on my brain, and I shook my head like a rag doll. Voices richocheted in my head, belonging to people that I knew not.

"Princess, it is my honor to meet you."

"My lady, how fare you?"

"Pleasant day, lady."

They repeated all over again, talking over each other and echoing.

"Make it stop!" I shrieked, clutching my head.

Some people stared, and Jack went rigid, ambivalent emotions on his face. Sadness, confusion, happiness, fear. It stopped, and I glowered at him daggers, breathing shallowly.

"Let's go to England. I will show you everything. Your true identity, and mine."

"You can't force me!" I yelled, backing away. "I..."

"No I cannot force you," he said, sadness in his eyes. "Of course not. I do not want to either. But I beg you, please. People are in danger-"

His eyes diverted to else where, and he took out his phone case- inside a foldable pair of knives inside. Terror infused my heart as I stumbled over my own words. "J-Jack."

"No worries. Nobody can see these. Someone is watching you, and I am going to protect you. What I need you to do is one thing: believe me," he said, somehow breathing raggedly.

Almost as soon as he was done, something flew over in a small blur, and Jack ducked. A small dagger plunged into the bark of a tree behind him. Nobody was sending us weird looks.

"What-" I began but before I could finish, Jack pushed me away swiftly in a blur and hard, and I hit the dirt, hearing a muffled grimace. Beside me was Jack and a fair-haired boy about our own age, who had landed squarely on jack, kicking him. I screamed, as Jack rolled over, and the boy raised his dagger, pointed at Jack's back.

"Help!" I screamed, tears flooding my eyes, blurring the surrounding.

Nobody but the boy seemed to hear. He stopped, glaring at me. "What-"

Jack's feet gracefully and reflectively flew up, as he twisted his body up, jumping up on a branch, blood smeared on his lip, as he grinned. "Evëh nes leqira, Miles," he sneered, speaking in a language strangely familiar.

"Crasea boltnano sanet!" yelled Miles.

Just as he finished, the world went tilting, and blackness swallowed me up.