Fate's Demand (Twisted Fate, Book 3)

Chapter Fifty-Two

"Just suspend your logic for a minute and imagine it in your head," Marcus said. "The explosion of the top layer caused it to fragment into pieces, hovering in the air. Now, these little bits are not proportional. Some of them are large and others are so small, they hardly exist at all."

He still sounded crazy, but I figured the sooner I let him finish the quicker I could finish with our so-called tour. Casting my eyes to the ceiling, I sighed and shifted my weight. "Okay, fireworks pictured. What's your point, Marcus?"

"Well, it's not like these bits can fly. They had to land somewhere."

He raised his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth turned upwards.

Glancing back to Marcus, I knew he could see my confusion, just as much as I knew he saw whatever other emotions crossed over my expression as the pieces began to click. When it became clear, many questions were answered, but twice as many were generated.

Damn him for making me believe in his theory.

Why couldn't anything be easy?

For once, it would be nice to receive an answer and pronounce The End. To be able to understand, say thank you, and walk away feeling satisfied that I knew everything there was to understand. I was sick of abnormal. Since the day I died, only the impossible had been true. Perhaps that's why I was never told everything at once; it would surely send me packing to live in an asylum.

"The Pure Souls," I said, barely audible. The souls are linked to me because they are a part of me.

He nodded. "It's why some are better than others. You, and those of us with larger quantities, don't have it in them to sin. Or lie. Others... Well, we may have a weight on our conscience, but not enough purity to keep us on a righteous path."

"And those with the smallest portion?"

"Have no conscious to cause them any guilt at all," he said, nodding. "They are remorseless."

"Like sociopaths?"

Marcus shrugged. "I have only met a few, but pretty much. I don't even know if it's an effect of the sliver they received—maybe the rest of their body fights it like it's a foreign object until their brains misfire. Who knows? I've just seen it." He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. "They have no conscious but have enough of an attachment to your purity that Darkness desires them because they are eligible for protection, if they do it right."

So, I created good and evil just by being born.

With no choice having been granted, and no way of fixing the mistakes created as a by-product of my conception, what could I do? Tell myself there was more good than bad? Ease my conscience by thinking the bad would have been wicked whether I existed and that they would have had no good at all if it weren't for me? My guilt filled my mind to the point of aching in my heart.

If it wasn't for me, they might be able to feel remorse.

Would it have been enough to avoid terrible choices?

It was torture to think about.

"So," I said. "Say you're right. If I created them, who created me? Where'd the glowing ball come from? And how do the Sisters choose us if we're not their creation?"

"Beats me." Marcus shrugged. "It was just a metaphor used to help you understand what you had trouble grasping. I have no clue if it's true. I've been around for a while, heard a lot of rumors, and that's how I imagine it happened."

"Okay." I rolled my eyes and looked around feeling like my brain was about to implode. It was subject-changing time. "So, I've seen some of the differences between Hell's Fire and Glory Academy. What's the same?"