7 Chapter 5: Step Forward

Sometimes, one may ask what destiny is?

Is it what the great lord up there has decided for you? Or could you really carve out fate for yourself?

To be honest, it doesn't really matter what fate has in store for you, or whether you believe in fate.

What matters is whether you step forward when the time requires you to do so. And in that sense, you can either see yourself as following your fate, or defying your fate. After all, the definition of fate was decided by man, and man can never know what fate is, was or will be.

For Rulia, I wanted to believe that she was defying her fate. After all, the fact that I possibly knew her future suggested that her 'fate' was carved out in some way, predestined for this poor soul.

When Rulia sliced her face, she let out a loud whimper. It was full of shock and sorrow and pain combined. I don't think she realised fully the consequence of what she did. Would you think of all the scars, all the disdain people may see you with when you did what you needed to survive? Perhaps so. But the true consequence, the weight of bearing that burden, would never hit you so hard at that point in time.

But it was necessary for Rulia. For what could have happened could have been worse.

I immediately covered Rulia with some of my death energy (I've accumulated it for so many years after all) and we waited quietly. Rulia laid quietly on her seat, her eyes wide opened, but she was already unconscious in real life and has entered my dreamscape.

"Where am I? Where are you? Come out!" she cried. Because her soul would reflect her last memory of herself, she was dripping in blood and had frazzled hair. In all honesty, the entire disguise was quite a success. The bandits would definitely not think she was Rulia Cleridalle or that she was worthy of being taken as a prize. I still kept half my consciousness outside, for in case.

"Hey, hey, don't worry. Here I am," I laughed and quickly appeared in front of her.

She stared at me dumbly.

I looked back at her, allowing her to accept what happened.

"Don't be scared," I said after a while, "I am here."

She slowly stumbled towards me and collapsed into my arms, bawling, as I patted her back and allowed her to soak my purple robes.

See, I told you I'd make her fall in love with me.

...

Okay, that's not really accurate. Still.

Don't question me.

Anyway, while she was crying, I was still observing the chaos outside. Like the 'fate' that I had foreseen, the group of bandits ravished the entire troop. I could tell that although it was a motley crew, they were still organised in some ways and obeyed orders. This suspicious point was enough to affirm my guess that this bandit group was either a mercenary troop doing a secret mission to get rid of Rulia Cleridalle, or a bandit troop controlled by some power in Siodros.

Either way, the time of crisis has arrived. One of the bandits entered the carriage that Rulia was in. When he saw the messed up woman with blood all over her, he was first shocked before guffawing.

"Look, lads! What do we have here!"

He dragged the limp body out of the carriage roughly and flung it on the ground. When the group of bandits saw the old-fashioned and conservative clothes of the body, they were put off. The injuries and wide eyes of the corpse were even more off-putting.

"Is this the infamous Rulia Cleridalle? Doesn't look like it. Did we get misled by an impersonator?"

"Not sure. But this is sure one ugly bitch."

"Yeah, look at those clothes...they look like they are for maids. To think her fashion sense was this bad."

"She doesn't' live up to expectations. We either need to find the real one or dispose of this body as soon as we have identified her."

"Found this in the carriage, the insignia of the Cleridalle family on a brooch. It should be enough to ascertain her."

"Hah, to think that she committed suicide before we could do anything!"

"Bury her quickly, and take all the goods! We've got greater rewards ahead of us!"

The crowds cheered amidst the decimated troops and spiralling smoke of destruction, creating a dissonance that was unsettling and foreboding.