The Five Realms

Chapter 22: Fate III

Chapter 22: The Golden Goodbye

The lamplight gave her bedroom a soft, golden hue—almost enough to make everything feel normal. Fate sat curled under her window, Egyptian mythology texts spread around her in chaotic spirals. It looked like she was studying for a history test. In a way, she was.

In her mind, Goldenia stirred, her presence like silk-wrapped warmth. "You're anxious again," the dragon observed gently.

Fate didn't reply. Her thumb skimmed the edge of a dog-eared page until it landed on one word: shabti.

Figurines meant to stand in for the dead in the afterlife. But that was just the surface. Dig deeper, and they weren't statues at all. They were watchers. Workers. Weapons. If you knew the right spells, they could speak. Defend. Even deceive.

And, more importantly, they could be you.

She remembered the twist from a story once told—a girl who didn't know she was a shabti until it was too late. Zia Rashid. Her body clay, her soul borrowed.

Fate traced a circle in the dust. What if she made one for each of them?
Shabti decoys. Bound to the oath of silence. Able to lie for them. Able to reassure parents. Able to report back if destroyed.

Her lips parted as the idea solidified. "We're leaving in a week," she whispered. "And I don't know how to say goodbye without breaking something."

"Then give them something unbreakable," Goldenia said softly in her mind.

Fate closed her eyes, heartbeat syncing with the slow rhythm of dragon breath that wasn't quite hers but lived within her.

Tomorrow, she'd bring it up to the others. For now, she had a name for the shape of her fear.

Shabti. A goodbye that could stay behind.

Steven leaned forward, squinting at the crooked glyph Fate had sketched in the margin. "Okay, but... what even is a shabti? It sounds like a Pokémon."

Fate laughed—more a breath than a sound. "Not quite. They're from Egyptian myth. Statues that stood in for people in the afterlife. But in some stories, especially the old sorcerer ones... they weren't just statues. They could walk. Talk. Defend you. Even pretend to be you if enchanted right."

Chyna's brow arched. "Like body doubles?"

"Exactly," Fate said, circling a figure labeled 'ME' with a shaky hand. "They're clay. But with a core—magic and memory. Enough to pass for us to anyone who isn't using mind-reading spells."

Joey leaned back against a bookcase, arms folded. "And you want to make... what? Little clones of ourselves? To sit around while we're gone?"

"Clones that can lie for us," Fate corrected. "To our families. Our schools. Our neighbors. Ones bound by a vow to say nothing of magic. But just enough to seem like we never left."

There was silence, the kind that didn't feel awkward—just heavy.

Katherine nodded slowly. "They could work. If made incomplete enough, they won't develop consciousness. But you'd need someone to help you bind the Virtue anchors."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Fate said softly.

Steven rubbed the back of his neck. "Wait, you're serious? You want to make mini-me go to school while I fly off to a magic realm with a dragon the size of a Jeep?"