They say interfering with fate always leads to a spiral. An anomaly that ends in chaos. The future is fixed. It was predestined from the very beginning. It must not be broken.
But what if the fate awaiting you is something you can never accept?
Something you can never allow to happen?
That was what I thought when I locked eyes with those scarlet pupils.
They were so red they almost seemed to glow as they stared straight into mine.
He was a boy—fifteen, the same age I was when I met him. He knelt before me, thin to the point that his bones protruded beneath his torn skin. Bruises and cuts littered his body. Yet what truly captivated me were his white hair and crimson eyes.
A human.
More than that—a rare one.
Pale skin. White hair. Red eyes. A kind that appears only once in a billion. And by the standards of my elven race, he was beautiful.
The moment our gazes locked, a scene began to unfold in my mind.
A vast desert stretched beneath a blood-red sky. A massive moon loomed overhead. Before me stood a mountain of corpses, piled high and endless. I followed the trail upward, my eyes climbing higher and higher until I saw who stood at the peak.
A man with white hair and red eyes.
Blood was splattered everywhere. There across his cloak, his hands, his face. A smirk curved along his lips before he threw his head back and laughed toward the crimson sky. His laughter echoes in my head.
Yes, we were never meant to interfere. Not with destiny. Not with the events destined to unfold in this world. What is meant to happen will happen.
We are watchers, not keepers of fate.
But if that fate threatens everyone I hold dear… should I let it be? Or should I stand in its path and alter its course?
I chose the latter.
And now… I regret it.