"A script they’ve run multiple tis." I flipped through the journal, showing them the docunted cycles. "Aldric the Golden. Seraphine the Pure. Marcus the Brave. Three heroes my family docunted. Probably dozens more before that."
Damian’s expression was dark. "What happened to them?"
"That’s where it gets interesting." I pointed to the notes. "Every single docunted hero either beca a tyrant or died mysteriously after completing their destiny. Aldric beca Emperor and ruled with increasing cruelty until his own generals killed him. Seraphine was poisoned three years after her victory. Marcus vanished without a trace."
"Why?" Marcus asked. "If the Council wanted heroes, why kill them after they succeeded?"
"Because they’re not making heroes," I said quietly. "They’re harvesting power."
I let that sink in.
I gathered my thoughts. This was the hard part. The part that would sound insane.
"The Council of Fates feeds on this cycle," I began. "Heroes defeating villains. Good triumphing over evil. The classic story structure, played out over and over. Every ti a hero complete their journey, the Council harvests the energy from the world. The emotions. The belief. The aning and the people attach to it."
"That’s..." Isabella struggled for words. "That’s parasitic."
"That’s exactly what it is. They create the hero, and give him everything opportunities to fight the evil of the ’Demons’. Then they make everything bends backwards for that hero."
"But what happens when it doesn’t go as planned?" Marcus asked.
"They eliminate the anomaly." I t their eyes one by one. "My parents discovered this. They were investigating the patterns and finding proof. They were murdered for it. Uncle Victor confird it today that their ’accident’ was an assassination."
Damian’s fists clenched on the table. He’d known my parents and served them as his own parents did.
"And you," Lucille said slowly. "You’re an anomaly."
"We’re all anomalies." I gestured around the table.
Adrian is supposed to be surrounded by loyal followers who worship him. Instead, so of them all chose to leave him or refuse him. Lucille was supposed to be his loyal assassin and yet she’s sitting at my table.
Things were supposed to go his way.
"That’s the summary, yes."
"And Adrian?"
"Is a victim, in his own way. He doesn’t know he’s being used. He genuinely believes he’s the destined hero. The Council has been manipulating him his entire life, making him think every success is his own, every advantage is earned." I paused. "Though that doesn’t excuse his actions. He’s still responsible for his choices."
"What about the Demon King? The great evil Adrian is supposed to defeat?"
My eyes hardened.
"That’s the really twisted part." I flipped to a specific page in the journal. "We believe the current Demon King is actually the previous cycle’s hero."
"Oh gods," Isabella whispered. "So the hero fights the previous hero, defeats them, becos the new hero, and then eventually either dies or becos the next Demon King?"
"It’s a cycle. Hence the na." I closed the journal. "And it’s been running for centuries. Maybe millennia. How many heroes have there been? How many were killed or corrupted? How many beca the very monsters they once fought?"
"And you’re trying to break this cycle," Marcus said, raising his brows.
I nodded.
And it’s not that I’m doing it out of the goodwill of my heart, I’m doing it because if I don’t, the world itself would always try to kill . Because I am a stepping stone.
More silence. They looked at each other. At the journal. At . They just learned that there’s sothing sowhere pulling the strings of their world.
Finally, Marcus spoke.
"You know what? Fuck them."
I blinked. "What?"
"Fuck the Council. Fuck their cycles." He leaned forward, eyes blazing with the manic energy I’d co to associate with him. "They’ve been playing god for centuries? Making people dance like puppets? Killing anyone who figures it out?" He slamd his hand on the table. "No. Hell no. I’m an enchanter. I break things and make them better. That’s literally my job. So yeah, let’s break them and make sothing better."
"They made a tool," Lucille said coldly. "A weapon aid at whoever the hero deed an enemy. Manipulated my loyalty, my skills, my entire life to serve their story." Her eyes were ice. "I don’t appreciate being used. Let’s show them what happens when their weapons turn on them."
Isabella’s voice was calm but firm. "My family has been fighting economic manipulation for generations. We always thought it was just politics. Just nobles playing gas. But if there’s a deeper conspiracy? If there’s a reason why every ti soone tries to change things, they mysteriously fail or die?" She nodded. "The Frostvale family stands with the Ravana."
Finally, Damian spoke. "Young Master, your parents are Just people. Who died trying to make the world better." His voice was quiet but absolute. "If this Council killed them, then they’re my enemy. If you’re fighting them, then I’m fighting with you. Until the end. Whatever that end may be."
"Thank you," I said.
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