Chapter 55
Lyssa
Moira smiled, holding out a hand for Lyssa, and the little girl stepped forward to take it.
“The book will test the worthiness of the people who lay their eyes upon it by telling a story. But the book did not need to test you, Lyssa Sage. You’ve already proven yourself worthy and are a storyteller in your own right. ”
Lyssa stared in awe. “I wrote about you.”
Fate winked. “And I wrote about you. Back before Rennedawn was as it is now…”
When none of them spoke again, Fate sat down to tell a story. It was one Lyssa knew before the words left her lips.
“Once upon a time, there were two of the dearest friends in existence. Fate and Destiny. The two used to dream of the world the magical gods had painted and left behind and the stories that would unfold there. Fate loved the idea of a world where their stories took on minds of their own, while Destiny desired control above all else. Ultimately, the two came to blows when several storybook prophecies were born from their imaginations.”
“Rennedawn’s storybook prophecy,” Becky breathed.
“And others. For the creation of the magical continent, we wrote a story. A new one for each kingdom. I thought it harmless; what’s a few lives to play with?
But after observing humanity, I realized the damage of such stories.
I told Destiny I didn’t want to be a part of it any longer.
That it was time to let go of our storytelling and allow the world to find its own ending. ”
“But the magic is dying. The prophecy can’t just not happen,” Clare argued.
The sun was leaving them, the light in the office dimming, as Fate continued.
“The prophecy will happen. It must for Rennedawn to remain magical, and Destiny will want to ensure it happens as she desires it to, as she planned it. But know that who you are and what you do are always choices you have. They cannot be taken from you, no matter how badly the powers that be might want it.”
That made Lyssa and Ms. Erring smile. Genuinely.
Because it was true: life had not happened at all the way Ms. Erring had probably planned.
She grew up the eldest daughter of a family she’d sought to please and ended up at a desk job, falling in love with a dragon trainer, becoming best friends with a little girl and her equally unhinged older sister.
No, life did not happen how Ms. Erring had wanted it. It happened as it was supposed to and, Lyssa knew, that was so much better.
“So you know everything of the prophecy?”
Fate sighed, smiling to herself. “Of course. I helped create it.”
“Why’d we have to listen to that whole story then—oof.” Blade rubbed at his abdomen, where Ms. Erring had just elbowed him.
“Destiny and I wrote all Rennedawn’s stories in the place where magic first touched Rennedawn. In a place we built together.”
Tatianna huffed impatiently. “Where?”
Fate walked beyond them until she came to stand before The Villain’s office doors. She pushed them open, gesturing inside. “A place that sat abandoned for many, many years. A place that had only been seen by one person as what it was meant to be. A home.”
“The boss’s office?” Blade burst out, and Becky clamped her hand over his mouth.
The book of Rennedawn closed, now hovering in the air before it landed atop the sleek black desk, sitting below the last beam of sunlight.
Lyssa started to ask Fate more.
But the mythical being was already gone.