Whispers of Fate

Barefoot, Eleni's feet sink into the thick, sticky liquid. Each step becomes heavier than the last. She continues moving forward but does so cautiously, holding onto the slippery trunks of blackened trees. The humid air makes it hard to breathe, reminding her of the stifling atmosphere in a Turkish bath. In desperation, Eleni looks up, hoping to catch a glimpse of light in the surrounding darkness. But the darkness completely engulfs everything around her. Her teeth chatter from cold and fear. If there is a hell somewhere, it must surely be here. She carefully takes a step forward, moving agonizingly slow. Having wandered here for hours, she cannot tell whether she is walking straight or going in circles. She wipes her pale hands on her short nightdress, stained with crimson spots. Eleni will think about this later; for now, her main concern is not freezing to death. Desperation wells up inside her, urging her to call for help, but fear of who might respond in such a place holds her back. Eleni takes her next step quickly, urging herself on. The ground is treacherously slippery, and suddenly, before she can fully grasp what's happening, she crashes into a tree. Sliding down its length, she falls to her knees. She cries out in surprise and pain that burns her hands. Clenching her teeth, she turns them, seeing shards of bark protruding from her skin. "Everything is fine... everything is okay..." she whispers to herself, feeling tears roll down her cheeks. But who is she fooling? Kneeling in a sticky substance, she can no longer feel her legs. The skin on them slowly loses its color, turning bluish. The wounds on her arms are hidden under dirt and blood, spreading from her wrists to her elbows. She almost whimpers in pain. She needs to clean the wounds and stop the bleeding, but neither is possible here. Overwhelmed with panic, Eleni tries to recall what to do in such a situation, but her thoughts are muddled. The wounds don't seem very deep, but each glance at the bark sticking out of her arms makes her feel nauseous. The darkness around her thickens, and breathing seems to get harder. Eleni sobs, starting to pick out the bark, removing piece by piece. Each movement brings a new wave of pain, making her clench her teeth even tighter. Eleni sniffles, assessing the extent of her injuries. The blood continues to slowly trickle down her arms, and she decides to raise them up, hoping to reduce the bleeding. Carefully, she places her palms above her head and, leaning against the trunk of a tree, takes deep breaths. Despite her initial thought that raising her arms might seem foolish, she now feels it easing her breathing. "And what now?" a female voice sounds irritated, almost contemptuous. For a moment, Eleni thinks these are her own thoughts spoken aloud. She freezes, her eyes darting around the swamp. "Spare me the lectures, Mom," the male voice is confident and calm, but the last word is deliberately emphasized. "You were expecting praise?" the woman retorts mockingly. "Remember, you're not all-powerful, boy." "We did everything right. She will appear." "How so..." the woman's voice drips with irony. "Don't waste my time on nonsense. Since when have you been interested in fairytales?!" "Since we discovered the Morozov Herd. I recommend you read it, fairytales can be quite entertaining." Eleni tenses up even more, hoping to remain unnoticed. She feels her arms starting to go numb and reluctantly lowers them. Suddenly, a sharp twig, which she had not noticed before, digs into her already damaged arm, making its way deep under the skin. A scream breaks out of her throat. The girl twitches convulsively, trying to free herself. Finally, pulling herself higher, she manages to remove her hand from the twig. She clutches it to her chest, bursting into silent sobs. " Quiet," commands the man, and everything around obediently falls silent. The world halts abruptly, and a deep silence envelops the already lifeless swamp. Eleni breathes heavily, desperately trying to at least not sniffle loudly. Please, let him not hear me! "I can smell her blood." His words pulsate in her temples, sounding like a distant echo. It would have been better if he had said that he sees her, hears her, anything. Soft footsteps come from somewhere to the side, growing louder. Eleni abruptly jumps up, barely keeping her balance. The sounds she hears propel her forward, and without seeing where she's stepping, she runs. She doesn't look back but feels with every cell of her body that she's being chased. Barely avoiding a collision with a tree, she sharply turns. Perhaps she's lost her mind, but the darkness here seems alive. Eleni instinctively dodges. Shadow wraps around the tips of her fingers, possessing a very real physical form. This seems impossible! Yet, the pain from the touch is very real. She quickly changes direction again. "Fool!" a woman's hoarse voice cries out from a distance. "Your power will kill her here!" The girl can't see the river ahead. She screams when her feet no longer touch the ground, and, failing to grab a branch, she falls down. The impact with the viscous liquid knocks all the air out of her. She submerges completely, feeling the fluid seep into her mouth, nose, and ears. In a panic, she inhales it, choking and thrashing. She frantically twists, hoping to swim out. A salvaging breath of air scorches her lungs. Eleni sits up sharply, feeling her body. There's nothing on her arms. Faint moonlight, filtering through the curtains, helps her to orient herself, but she only manages to turn on the torchiere after several attempts. The bedroom looks the same as when she went to bed. Covering her face with her hands, Eleni tries to calm down. What just happened? She often has nightmares, but she has never seen anything like this. She licks her dry lips. The taste of metal on her tongue nearly triggers a gag reflex, prompting her to go to the bathroom. She rinses her mouth, splashes water on her face, splattering the mirror. She could have concluded that she bit her tongue during the night, but there's no blood. Leaning on the sink, she only now notices that everything around her is splattered. She quickly looks for a cloth, remembering her mother's words: "Order in the house is order in the mind." It didn't correspond to reality, but it firmly lodged in her consciousness. She wipes everything around, repeating these words, and seems to calm down. Her reflection suggests otherwise. Her pupils are so dilated that the green irises are almost invisible. Pale face, dark circles under her eyes, disheveled red hair. She's not herself. Eleni tries to dismiss the thought. She shuffles back to her room and checks the time. Two in the morning. She needs to get up for work at five. She rubs her face and tiredly sinks onto the bed. She feels dizzy, her eyes are heavy, but she makes every effort to stay awake. Eleni wants to believe that this is all because of the lateness of the hour, but something inside her haunts her. This is not just a dream; she feels like she's being pulled back into the nightmare. Just the thought of it makes her jump to her feet. She feels like this is how people go insane. Recalling the nocturnal incident, she remembers the voices that seemed strangely familiar, as if they had met before. What did they want? Eleni rubs her face again, reconstructing the fragments of the conversation in her memory. The Morozova Herd... She ponders for only a minute before reaching for her phone. Could it be... The first link leads to the "Shadow and Bone" trilogy. The girl forces a pained smile. Who would have thought that a recently watched series and a book would provoke such a sick fantasy? She should feel relieved, but she doesn't. Eleni steps out onto the balcony. It's easier to breathe here. The icy wind burns her skin but helps her come to her senses. Her breath turns into a white cloud in the frosty air. She gazes at the starry sky above her and lets the wind blow her long hair, as if hoping to rid herself of the nightmare in this way. Calmness comes slowly, but she finds comfort in the stars twinkling on this dark night. When the cold becomes unbearable, Eleni goes back inside. For a moment, she imagines movement to the side and flinches instinctively. It's just the wind moving the curtain. The girl sighs heavily, trying to suppress the panic. She drags herself back to the bedroom. For the first time in many years, she leaves the light on, succumbing to a childish fear of the dark. Wrapped in a blanket, Eleni curls up, immersing herself in reading articles. The internet is full of knowledge about Grisha. She tries to lose herself in reading, persistently warding off the sense of impending doom.

***

The large room is filled with lockers so that everyone can leave their belongings. The buzz of voices fills the space. Eleni stands in front of the mirror, applying powder with a brush. Her face must not shine on camera, otherwise, she'll get a reprimand from the management. The evening makeup seems inappropriately bright for her half-asleep state. The bright yellow dress is too big in the shoulders and completely unsuitable in color. She sighs tiredly, reminding herself why she still works at the online casino. It's banally simple. Bills won't pay themselves, and good money can be made here. Her shift starts in five minutes. She adjusts the indecently short dress and heads to her workplace with her colleagues. Life here buzzes around the clock. Thousands of people replace each other, dispersing throughout the multi-story building, hiding behind fake names and false smiles. Eleni descends the stairs and opens one of the doors with her key card. Every employee has one, and like prisoners, they use them at every entrance, under constant surveillance. Comparing it to prison seems absurd. Theoretically, she can leave at any time. Practically, it's not so simple. Behind the next door lies a spacious room. The first thing that strikes the eye is the room's excessive ornateness. Resembling a set, it's crammed with equipment, gaming tables, and despair. All of it is just a pretty picture for players, made of cheap plastic and plywood. The vacant stares of the workers search for their replacements among the incoming colleagues. Eleni is set to spend twelve hours here. She stands behind the camera, locking eyes with a dark-eyed brunette. A knowing smile spreads across her lips, smeared with worn lipstick. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is my last round for today. I leave you with Azapa, may she bring you luck." Eleni crosses her arms over her chest. The nickname Azapa doesn't bother her much, as she can't be called anything else at the table. However, the hint of "luck" resonates unpleasantly in her mind. In blackjack, as in all other gambling games, only the casino wins. She walks around the table and positions herself in front of the cameras. Waiting for the dealer to leave and wishing her a good day, she takes her place. "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Azapa, and I will be your dealer for the next thirty minutes. Place your bets." Eleni quickly adjusts the shoe, which contains six decks of cards. She will use them until the cut card is reached. A clever system prevents calculating the game's outcome. It's important that the cards land precisely on the scanner when drawn from the shoe. She needs to be attentive and minimize mistakes. If a card isn't scanned and Eleni doesn't notice, there will be a penalty. Just one of many. She drearily goes through the players' nicknames. Some are regulars. It's amazing how people have so much extra money. "Let's begin," she announces as the time for bets is over. "Let's see what cards come out." Her smile and melodic voice never fail her. She knows she looks extremely friendly. She deals one card to each of the seven players, then to herself as the dealer. Then again to each of the seven players and to herself, but the last card she places face down. The game is insanely simple. Both players and the dealer need to get a number close to twenty-one, but not higher. She quickly scans the table. The dealer has a ten, the second card is hidden, but she's almost sure it's also a high number. Usually, it is. Players make their decisions. Some bust, some play it safe with low numbers, only one gets to eighteen. "Let's see the hidden card," she deftly flips it over, revealing another ten, and continues with a slightly saddened voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, the dealer has twenty. Thank you for playing. It's time for new bets." The table is full of losers. It doesn't affect her as it used to. She's learned to see just numbers in the bets, not money. A message wishing her a speedy death appears in the chat. With two clicks, she informs the pit boss, showing no reaction. Players often accuse her of cheating or try to humiliate her, unable to cope with the disappointment of losing. In the first weeks, she choked back tears after shifts. She felt extremely guilty. But time has changed that. After all, the game is played fairly, and she gets absolutely nothing from the dealer's winnings. She mechanically continues the game, dealing cards to seven spots, and then draws an ace and a ten for herself. Blackjack, the highest combination, wins again. There's no luck for the players here. Soon, she switches to autopilot. Memorized phrases and responses don't burden her mind. She mentally returns to the events of the night. Was the dream a warning? She doesn't know, but out of curiosity, she looked up the meanings in a dream book. Swamp – unfavorable circumstances, fog – a difficult trial, wounds on hands – a painful separation. Eleni wants to slap herself for the stupidity. As if her worries weren't enough, now there's also this silly interpretation of the dream. She glances at the clock. Time drags especially slowly today. Fatigue becomes increasingly overwhelming. Her eyelids are harder to keep open, and she hopes no one notices. She doesn't need problems. Then there are explanations to be made, reports to be written... Her head slowly fills with fog. She continues dealing cards, sinking deeper into darkness. "It's time to join the service, my Moon," a velvety male voice sounds everywhere, demanding her presence. A shiver runs through her body, pleasantly responding to the call. Her consciousness freezes. She sinks into darkness. She's no longer sure where she is. Her head grows heavy, and it seems just a little more, and she'll be far away from this world. The very idea unexpectedly scares her. Her thoughts become muddled, but Eleni tries with all her might to return to consciousness. She refuses to sink deeper. She tries to feel her body, and after a few attempts, she manages to feel her fingers. She clenches them until they crack. Bright light hits Eleni's face. The card crumpled in her hands never reaches the player. She distractedly looks around the room, then her gaze falls on the clock. An hour. A whole hour has passed. She stares at the screen in astonishment. She doesn't remember how she led the game, doesn't remember how she changed tables. But it undoubtedly happened. It had never happened to her before. The metallic taste in her mouth, just like after waking from a dream, returns, and nausea rises in her throat again. With trembling hands, she places the card on the table and, pulling out the keyboard, types an SOS signal. The room spins. It seems she will either vomit or lose consciousness. The response comes quickly. They ask if she can wait. This triggers a new wave of nausea, and Eleni hastily responds with a decisive "No." Soon, the manager enters the hall, nearly bumping into a colleague. He quickly approaches the table, allowing Eleni to stand up. His irritated expression remains the same, even under the watchful eye of the cameras, but she doesn't care. She runs out without saying a word. The corridors to the bathroom seem endless. Eleni rushes in, catching sideways glances, and, without waiting for her turn, dashes into a cubicle. She drops to her knees, barely managing to clutch her hair in her fist. Her body shudders. She hadn't had time to eat, and now she vomits stomach acid. Relief doesn't come. The metallic taste turns to bitterness in her mouth and pain in her throat. With a trembling hand, she wipes her lips and places her palm on her forehead, checking for fever. There's no heat. Tiredly, she considers the possible reasons for her condition. She needs to ask to go home and possibly visit a hospital. Under the watchful eyes of her colleagues, she heads to the sinks to rinse her mouth and wash her hands. Perhaps she has a concussion, but she doesn't know where she could have gotten it. Not waiting for another memory loss, she slowly makes her way to the office. She stops on the landings, taking breaks. A severe tremor shakes her entire body. Twice she has to dig her nails into her palms to come to her senses before reaching her destination. The large green room resembles a hospital hall. There's a large registration desk, a tense atmosphere, and gloomy faces. Everything matches perfectly. Eleni takes a deep breath. "Good morning, excuse me, may I speak with you?" A middle-aged, plump woman types fervently on a computer, annoyingly tapping the keys. Eleni patiently waits until she looks up. "Well? Speak," the woman snaps, continuing to look at the monitor. "I just felt ill at the table," she hesitates slightly. "I don't remember the last hour." Finally, she captures the woman's attention. The woman stops to give her a heavy look. "What do you mean?" "Well... I don't remember the last hour of work. It seems I lost consciousness." "It's unlikely, we would have noticed, but I'll ask to check the cameras," the woman returns to her work as if nothing said earlier matters. "Drink some water, sit for a while, and then continue working in thirty minutes. What did you say your nickname was?" "Azapa," clinging to the edge of the table to keep from falling, Eleni barely holds back tears. "Actually, I would like to leave work. I need to go to the hospital. I feel nauseous and very dizzy. I'm afraid I might lose consciousness." "And who will work for you? Me?" the woman snorts and quickly adds, throwing a warning glance. "We're short-staffed today. You'll have to endure until the end of the day, then take sick leave tomorrow." "But if..." "No 'buts'. Go rest, and then back to work." Eleni bites her lip but walks away silently. Surprisingly, today she finds herself in a situation she had only heard about before. "Short-staffed" - here, a sentence. For this company, even death is not a valid reason if they are in trouble. Leaving means being jobless, a luxury Eleni cannot afford. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she heads towards the staircase, as she thinks. She will try to approach again at the end of the break. The world spins, refusing to stop. The veil over her eyes doesn't help, and she closes them, taking another timid step forward, only to stumble. Inside, everything falls apart as she realizes, a second before hitting, that she has reached the stairs. She hits a step, and her body rolls down by inertia. This time, the inviting darkness is salvation.

***

When a person loses consciousness, they probably shouldn't feel anything. But Eleni is acutely aware of her body. The cold floor reminds her of the chilled autumn earth, soaked with moisture. She awaits the pain, but it denies her its presence. Lying with her eyes closed, the girl inhales through her nose. The frosty air nips at her exposed skin. A faint smell of burning confuses her. Although she hears the characteristic crackling of a fire, her mind can't piece the scene together. She opens her eyes, only to stare at the fire. The blue flames hiss and twist, dancing on black logs. Even the heat from it is strange. Eleni could swear it feels cold. She reaches out her hand, wanting to check. Curiosity demands to know whether the flame will burn her in this strange oblivion. It does. Yelling, more from surprise, she jerks her hand back, pressing it to her chest. "Another foolish girl," the harsh words are filled with irritation. "Why are you lying down? Get up." She sits up abruptly, staring at the woman opposite her. White hair frames the strict features of her face, thin eyebrows knit close to her nose. The fire's flickers cast shadows on the imposing figure. With arms crossed, Baghra stands very close to the flame, seemingly oblivious to it. Eleni blinks again. Impossible! That's just the actress who played the character. The girl can't recall her name, but an inner voice whispers that it won't be necessary. "If you're not going to speak, shut your mouth," the ancient woman continues. "You look stupid enough as it is." Eleni purses her lips. She quickly scans herself, nearly groaning in frustration. She's still wearing the same tasteless work dress, hitched up to her buttocks. Compared to Baghra's elegant kaftan, her outfit can't even be called a rag. With chilled fingers, she grabs the fabric and pulls it down determinedly. "I hope we didn't spend all that effort and resources for this girl," Baghra throws out the comment to the side. Only then does Eleni notice the man. He stands a little away, his back to them, blending with the surrounding darkness. It seems like the right time to wake up. Yet she's still here. Could it be that this is the Darkling himself, in the guise of a Hollywood actor? He turns around, stepping towards the fire. Once again today, the girl has no idea how to react. Pale, perfect skin, a neatly trimmed beard, black unruly hair. He looks younger than Eleni thought. If she didn't know who was before her, she might think she's met a god. She knows she's encountered the devil. "This," he looks around indifferently, "is the Stygian Marshes of Aida." Eleni surveys the area. It's dark around, but she catches with her eyes the ring of trees around. Her heart skips a beat. She feels more than sees that she's in the same place as that fateful morning. Then, she thought it was Hell. If she believe the Darkling, it's not far from the truth. Moreover, it's not far from here. In Greek mythology, this is precisely where the river Styx flows, ferrying souls to the afterlife. She shifts her gaze from one Shadow Summoner to the other. "Am I dead?" Eleni's eyes well up with unbidden tears. "It's not important," the Darkling answers seriously. "What does that even mean? It's absurd..." she mumbles foolishly, not really to him but to herself. "Maybe I just hit my head hard... I did fall. I should be at work. How can I be in two places at once? "You're right, we are only given the possibility to exist in one reality," he catches the train of her thoughts effortlessly. "But I assure you, everything happening is real." She believes it. It's too insane to be true, but she feels alive and real. A hundred questions whirl in her head. They intertwine, not allowing her to articulate a single one. All Eleni can do is silently open and close her mouth. "I hope you're done," irritation in Baghra's voice takes on dangerous notes. "We don't have time for this if we don't want to get stuck here." Darkling nods, as if giving the order to begin. He approaches the girl. She would prefer if he stayed away. Her heart beats wildly. Eleni desperately tries to think of what to do. Call for help? Run into the forest? The next question is, what then... "You must have many questions. I have answers." Darkling extends his hand to her in a graceful gesture of help. A strange feeling spreads through her body from his proximity, but she has no desire to accept it. Perhaps he's just trying to be polite or perhaps not. She doesn't want to find out for herself. "You can trust me." Baghra snorts from behind, but remains silent. At this moment, very obvious things come together. "I don't think so..." Eleni tries to sound confident, but her voice trembles. "If what you're saying is true... You hardly called me to Aida for a chat. You mentioned the impossibility of existing in two worlds... It's madness... but it sounds like you want to transfer me to your world." "Who would have thought," Baghra's voice is laced with unmistakable irony. "I had already decided it would be better to leave her here." Alexander throws a cold glance at Baghra then turns back to Eleni. "It'll be easier if you do as I say willingly," he sounds bored. "It will spare you unnecessary agony." "No, I want to go home." Darkling's face changes. His patience has run out for the day. Before she realizes it, he roughly grabs her by the hair, forcing her to stand. "I strongly recommend you remember," his lips barely touch her ear. "From now on, your home is Ravka." She chokes from pain, thoughtlessly grabbing his arm. Jerking her whole body, only making it worse for herself. Eleni doesn't immediately notice the knife in his hand. Darkling pulls her closer, and only then she freezes. The last thing she wants is steel in her flesh. "Please... don't... " She is so close that she sees her reflection in his eyes. Her plea is just an empty sound to him. Baghra circles around the fire, and Darkling hands her the handmade knife. In another situation, Eleni would have admired its incredible beauty, but her eyes fixate on the symbols on the steel. It looks like a ritual knife. She had only read about such and very much wished never to see one. The old woman deftly takes the weapon and, pulling up her son's sleeve, runs it across his right wrist. Eleni looks on bewildered at the unfolding madness. Blood quickly follows. It uncontrollably flows from the deep wound, staining the ground red. Satisfied, Baghra closes her eyes. The girl returns her gaze to the Darkling. He does the same as the ancient one. Eleni would like to believe that this is her chance to escape, but the man's hands tighten. It really doesn't look much like a dream. The unbearable headache is proof of this. The starless saint slowly opens his eyelids. He looks at her with a distant look. Before she realizes what's happening, he bends his cut hand. The other brings her to her knees with one strong tug. Unbending his right one, he puts his wrists against her lips, pouring blood on her. Eleni is sick of disgust. She tries to turn her head away, but his hand pushes her back into place. "You should start drinking if you don't want to suffocate. " His voice is utterly calm, as if he's telling her the most trivial thing. She whimpers pitifully, not knowing what can possibly be done in such a situation. Eleni wants to live, and she parts her lips. Thick, salty liquid pours into her throat. She chokes, forced to swallow it. Baghra appears very close, and although the girl is sure it can't get worse, she waits in terror for what's next. The ancient woman spreads her arms, and the darkness thickens. Whispering unfamiliar words, she makes a strange gesture and places her hands on their heads. An uncontrollable flow of energy sweeps through her body, draining her last strength. At that moment, Baghra steps back, and Darkling removes his cut hand. Eleni is racked with coughs, spitting out blood. A feeling of emptiness creepily spreads in her chest, radiating through her body. She wants to cry, but she doesn't even have the strength for that. The man tightens his grip on her hair and steps forward, dragging her along. "See you soon, my Moon. " He carefully adjusts a stray lock of her hair. Her frenzied mind naively thinks that now the worst is behind her. As if reading her thoughts, Darkling barely smiles." The starless saint extends his hand, causing her to step into the fire. An inhuman scream pierces the dead silence of the swamps.