Nicholas took a sigh of relief. It was Friday once more, the 6th of June.
The week had passed without anything significant happening. Most of his grades were finalized, he managed to avoid doing any PE activities, and he was able to hide his wounds from everyone. Speaking of his wounds, they seemed to heal much faster than he anticipated, almost unnaturally so.
While he was home, he continued experimenting with Darkness. He was curious about the trigger that caused him to gain more of it. Gaining more Darkness, as he understood it, essentially allowed him to create more constructs simultaneously.
He also experimented with its other capabilities. For instance, he learned that his current range for creating constructs was limited to about one meter. The constructs could still exist outside of that range, but he couldn't create anything beyond it. He could dispel them regardless of distance, and with great focus, he could even make his dagger levitate. He figured with training—or perhaps by finding a way to "grind" more Darkness—he could potentially increase that range.
One failed experiment left him scratching his head. He had tried creating clothes from Darkness but failed miserably.
"Is it because I don't understand clothes?" he muttered, furrowing his brows in thought. "Or… am I unable to replicate the proper material?"
His experiments led to another shocking discovery: some objects he constructed were made of Darkium. The rarest and most sought-after material on the planet, Darkium could only be found in the Swart Rook. At first, the realization had left him in stunned disbelief, but with time—and a lot of cautious testing—he'd accepted it.
He turned on his desk lamp and created a dagger. Its design was practical, yet its details were difficult to discern, shrouded in a foggy, shifting darkness. He placed the dagger under the lamp's light, watching as its form sharpened and became clearer, the shadows retreating.
"That's freaking cool," he said with a grin, turning the dagger over in his hands.
Unfortunately, he still hadn't been able to recreate the tendrils of Darkness he'd summoned against Markus. It was frustrating but also a challenge to tackle in the future.
Since he didn't need to study much, he'd spent more time with his friends—and even the perverted duo. Right now, he was walking through the bustling streets of Fusionight City, a strawberry milkshake in hand. He sipped it slowly, savoring its delicious flavor while the lively city buzzed around him.
Rose had suggested they all visit a traveling carnival and circus that had arrived in the city, it was stationed in one of the nature parks that were in the city. Nicholas had been surprised; he wouldn't have expected anyone to want to visit Fusionight City after last week's chaos.
He'd been reluctant to agree, partially because his wounds hadn't fully healed, and partially because he wasn't a fan of the circus. Not that he was afraid of clowns. Totally not… It just wasn't his vibe.
He sighed. "Eh. It's not like I'll be fighting, so it's fine. What's the worst that can happen at a circus?"
As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a message from Rose.
Rose:Hurry up, Nicholas! We're already here, and you're going to miss all the fun!
Nicholas glanced at the time and frowned. He wasn't late, but he knew better than to keep Rose waiting. Tossing his empty cup into a nearby trash can, he quickened his pace toward the carnival grounds.
When he arrived, the place was already teeming with energy. Brightly lit rides whirred and spun, booths lined with prizes tempted visitors, and the tantalizing aroma of fried food filled the air.
Rose and Philip waved him over near the entrance. Rose was practically bouncing with excitement, her pink hair catching the colorful lights around them. Philip, on the other hand, looked far more relaxed, casually munching on a stick of cotton candy.
"Took you long enough," Rose teased, hands on her hips.
"I'm not late," Nicholas countered, though his tone lacked conviction.
"You're late enough," she shot back, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the carnival. "Come on, there's so much to see!"
Philip chuckled, falling into step beside them. "Let's just hope the clowns don't give Nicholas nightmares."
Nicholas glared at him. "I'm not afraid of clowns!"
"Sure you're not," Philip said with a smirk.
As they delved deeper into the carnival, the sights and sounds grew more vibrant, but there was something faintly unsettling in the air. A flicker of unease passed through Nicholas, but he shook it off.
What's the worst that can happen at a circus?
***
The three of them wandered through the carnival, the bright lights and cheerful music enveloping them as they decided to tackle some of the games.
Their first stop was the classic ring toss game. Rose was the first to try, her fierce determination written all over her face. She lined up the ring, squinted as if calculating physics, and threw it with precision... only to have it bounce off the bottle and clatter onto the ground.
"WHAT?!" she yelled, startling the nearby crowd. She pointed at the bottles accusingly. "That's rigged! I swear it's rigged!"
The attendant gave her a practiced, bored smile. "Better luck next time."
Nicholas smirked, suppressing a laugh. "You okay there, Rose? Want to go another round and prove it's not rigged?"
"Oh, I will prove it!" she snapped, slapping down more money.
Two rounds and several missed tosses later, Rose finally stomped away, muttering about "carnival scam artists." Philip handed her a cotton candy to calm her down.
"Here," he said. "Sugar always works, calms you down."
Next, the trio came across a water-shooting game. The objective was simple: aim a stream of water at the target to fill up the balloon faster than the others. Rose hesitated, still grumpy, but Nicholas and Philip locked eyes.
"Oh, you're going down," Nicholas said, cracking his knuckles dramatically.
Philip smirked. "You're all talk, buddy. Let's see what you've got."
The game began, and both of them concentrated fiercely, their jets of water hitting the targets dead-on. The crowd around them started cheering as their balloons began to swell, but Nicholas was relentless, his expression determined.
"Focus," he muttered to himself, narrowing his eyes.
Philip, however, couldn't resist a little showmanship. "What's wrong, Nicholas? Feeling the pressure?" he taunted.
At the last second, Nicholas's balloon popped with a satisfying bang, followed by a celebratory bell. He raised his arms in victory. "Ha! In your face!"
Rose finally seemed to cheer up, laughing as Philip slumped dramatically. "I demand a rematch!" Philip groaned.
"Maybe later," Nicholas replied smugly, pocketing the cheap plastic prize he'd won—a small stuffed rat.
Philip's eyes seemed to light up as he glanced at Nicholas's prize. "On second thought, there's no need for a rematch. The prize wouldn't suit me as well as it suits you."
Nicholas felt the irresistible urge to slap the back of his head. Yet he was able to show a great deal of restraint. He felt proud of himself.
As they moved toward the next attraction, they suddenly spotted two familiar figures—Haru and Dick. The pair were huddled near one of the stalls, whispering conspiratorially.
"Oh no," Nicholas muttered under his breath.
"Friends of yours?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Unfortunately," Nicholas sighed.
Haru noticed them first, waving enthusiastically. "Yo, Nicky-chan! Over here!"
Nicholas walked over to them, a frown on his face. "Look, I'm kinda busy right now, but I'll catch up with you two later, okay?"
Dick grinned mischievously. "Aw, don't be like that, Nicky-chan. We've got something fun planned."
Nicholas didn't like the way he said that. Narrowing his eyes, he replied firmly, "Whatever it is, save it for later. I've got plans."
Haru pouted but relented. "Fine, fine. We'll find you when you're free."
As Nicholas turned back to join Rose and Philip, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. Those two were definitely up to something.
Philip tilted his head. "Are those your, uh, 'friends' from school?"
"More like a persistent headache," Nicholas replied.
Rose smirked. "They seemed charming."
"Trust me, they're not," Nicholas muttered, shaking his head as they moved on to the next game.
As the three of them walked, Nicholas suddenly bumped into someone.
"Oh, crap. Sorry!" he blurted, instinctively raising a hand in apology. It was his fault for not paying attention, and he saw no reason to deflect responsibility.
"…It's fine. Carry on."
The voice was cold and mechanical, devoid of emotion. Curious, Nicholas glanced up at the person he'd bumped into.
The figure was a teen around his age, slightly taller, with dark brown hair and piercing purple eyes. His expression somehow managed to look both furious and utterly indifferent, as though merely existing was a tiresome chore.
What stood out the most was his clothing—a flowing purple robe with white stripes, a strange choice for anyone walking around a carnival.
'Who dresses like that? Is he part of the circus?' Nicholas wondered. Although the thought might have seemed rude, it was born of genuine curiosity. He could only hope the teen wasn't a mind reader.
Before they parted, the robed teen scrutinized Nicholas intently, his purple eyes narrowing slightly. A chill ran down Nicholas's spine as an uneasy thought crept in. 'He can't actually read minds… can he?'
"Could you be…? No…" The teen muttered, his tone thoughtful, almost as if deliberating on something important.
Nicholas frowned, his unease growing. 'Is he trying to connect me to Unknown? That'd be bad.'
Philip, noticing the tension growing on Nicholas's face, stepped in. "Anything on your mind, friend?" he asked casually, aiming to defuse the situation.
The robed teen shifted his gaze to Philip, scanning him briefly before muttering under his breath, "Weak."
Nicholas heard the word clearly and felt his jaw tighten. Philip, however, seemed blissfully unaware.
After a moment, the teen finally answered, his voice serious. "I'm debating whether to give in to Fate or fight against it."
An awkward silence hung in the air.
"Uh… what did he just say?" Rose broke the quiet, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.
The robed teen sighed, casting one last glance at Nicholas. "…Go get your fortune read. That's all I'll say." Without another word, he turned and walked away, his purple robe fluttering behind him.
Nicholas stood frozen, a strange sense of foreboding settling over him. His gut told him to heed the advice, no matter how absurd it sounded.
"Was that guy part of the circus?" Rose mused aloud.
"Maybe," Philip replied, scratching his head. "His outfit screams 'performer.' But honestly, he might just be in on some advanced scam."
Nicholas remained quiet, lost in thought.
"Hey," Rose said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're not actually thinking of doing what he said, are you?"
Nicholas hesitated. "I think… I'll check it out." His voice wavered slightly, embarrassed at his own words.
Both Rose and Philip stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
"Did you hit your head or something?" Rose asked incredulously.
Nicholas glared at her and waved off the question. "Don't mind me. Just think of this as an excuse for some alone time for you two."
Their faces turned bright red in unison.
"It's not like that!" they shouted in sync, their voices echoing across the carnival grounds.
***
After wandering through the carnival for a while, Nicholas finally stumbled upon a tent with a sign that read, Fortune Reading.
"This is probably it…" he muttered, glancing around. There was no line, no indication of anyone else nearby, and no sign saying the tent was closed. Shrugging, he pushed the flap aside and stepped in.
"Hello? Anyone in here?" he called out.
The interior was dimly lit, the darkness pierced by a single light shining down from the ceiling. It illuminated a round table in the center, draped with a deep purple cloth embroidered with silver symbols. Atop the table sat a crystal ball, its surface glimmering faintly.
Behind the table sat a stunning woman. She had flawless dark skin, lavender eyes that seemed to glint in the light, and dark purple hair that elegantly framed her face. She wore purple lipstick, which matched her flowing, revealing outfit. Her attire seemed designed to grab attention—perhaps a little too much attention, specifically in her 'upper' area.
Nicholas fake-coughed, his face heating up. 'Erm… that's a bit…' He slapped himself lightly on the cheek, trying to banish the impure thoughts.
The woman's lips curved into a sly smile as her gaze locked onto his. "Welcome," she said, her voice smooth and almost musical. "I've been expecting you."
Nicholas blinked, taken aback. "You… were expecting me?"
Her smile widened, and she let out a soft laugh. "No," she admitted, shrugging playfully. "Just something we fortune tellers say to keep up the mystique."
Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Right. Well, I'm here to get my fortune read, please."
The woman gestured toward the chair across from her. "Please, take a seat."
He hesitated for a moment before sitting down. She placed her hands on either side of the crystal ball, her lavender eyes sparkling with an almost unnatural light.
"Place your hand on the crystal ball," she instructed, her tone more serious now.
Nicholas did as she said, but as he reached out, he noticed her other hand subtly brushing against his fingers. It wasn't an accident. He felt the faintest tingle where her skin touched his.
His gut twisted slightly, and his mind raced. 'She's definitely an Awakened. Physical touch must be necessary for her ability. Though I don't think she's a hero… But I don't think she's a villain either. Probably just a mundane human trying to cash out on their abilities.'
The realization oddly put him at ease. He relaxed his posture and let her continue. There were a few of those kinds of humans, that awakened but didn't want to announce their powers to the world, hell he was one of them even.
She noticed his change in demeanor and gave him a nod before speaking. "Before we begin, I should mention I use tarot cards as well. However, I don't use them in the traditional way. My methods are… unconventional."
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Unconventional how?"
"Let's just say they act as an amplifier for what I see. They help me dig deeper into your past, present, and future." She shuffled a deck of worn yet ornate tarot cards, her fingers moving deftly over the edges.
"Interesting," Nicholas replied, his curiosity piqued. "Alright then. Let's do it. I want you to read my Fate… related to my past, present, and future. I guess."
Her movements paused for a moment, and her gaze grew sharper. "Fate, you say? That's a bold request. Most people are too afraid to ask."
Nicholas shrugged. "I have my reasons."
The woman regarded him for a moment before giving a small, enigmatic smile. "Very well. Let's uncover the threads of your Fate."
She placed one hand on the crystal ball and gestured for him to do the same again. When their hands touched the ball simultaneously, a faint glow emanated from within the glass, and Nicholas felt a subtle pull, like an invisible force drawing him in.
As the light grew brighter, she pulled three cards from her deck, placing them face-down on the table.
"Let's begin," she murmured. Her voice seemed to echo slightly as if carried by the energy radiating from the ball.
She began to speak, her voice taking on a melodic, almost hypnotic tone. "Let us begin by seeing how Fate perceives you…" She closed her eyes, and Nicholas felt a strange pulse reverberate through the crystal ball, sending a faint vibration through his body.
"Pick a card," she instructed, her hand gesturing toward the deck spread out on the table.
Nicholas hesitated briefly before reaching out, selecting a card at random. As he handed it to her, he noticed her fingers briefly brush the card's surface, and once again, he felt that peculiar energy transfer.
She nodded, her expression unreadable as she held the card between her fingers. "Interesting…" The card seemed to glimmer faintly, as though responding to the energy coursing through her touch. "You are Fate's Chosen…"
Nicholas leaned forward slightly, intrigued. The words hung heavy in the air as she slowly revealed the card.
"The Fool," she announced, her lavender eyes snapping open. A sly smirk tugged at her lips as she placed the card upright on the table.
Nicholas blinked, then frowned, his face twisting in mild annoyance. "Fate's Chosen Fool?" he repeated incredulously. "Who in their right mind would want that title? It just screams trouble."
Her smirk widened, amusement dancing in her eyes. "The Fool is not what you think," she said, leaning forward slightly. "It is not an insult, but a symbol of beginnings. The Fool represents untapped potential, a blank slate, a leap of faith into the unknown. To be the Chosen Fool is to hold infinite possibilities in your hands—if you are brave enough to embrace them."
Nicholas crossed his arms, his skepticism clear. "So, I'm some kind of cosmic blank slate? Sounds more like Fate couldn't make up its mind about me."
She chuckled, the sound light and teasing. "Perhaps. Or perhaps Fate has entrusted you with more freedom than most. The Fool is the only one who can chart his own course, unconstrained by the limits imposed on others."
Nicholas considered her words, his brow furrowing. He wasn't sure if this sounded empowering or like a cosmic cop-out.
Then she offered a sheepish smile, catching him off guard. "To be honest, this is quite fascinating for me too… because I'm not entirely sure what it means either."
Nicholas stared at her, a single thought flashing through his mind. 'The hell? Is this really just a scam?'
Noticing his skeptical expression, she quickly elaborated, her tone growing more thoughtful. "What I mean is, that the card can carry many interpretations—different but often similar in essence. I'm uncertain which meaning best fits you."
She gestured toward the card on the table. "As I said, you might be a blank slate, free to choose your own destiny. Or… you could be a puppet of Fate, made to believe you have control while simply following the predetermined path laid out for you."
Nicholas grimaced. He hated the second interpretation even more than the first.
Her tone grew heavier as she continued, "You might also be a catalyst for great change—an insignificant being who somehow transforms the entire world. Or perhaps…" She paused for emphasis. "...a cursed existence, burdened by the impossible, scorned for daring to shoulder the weight of the world. A tragic hero destined for greatness but ultimately doomed to fail, or an ironic hero who stumbles onto the path of destiny by accident and somehow manages to succeed."
Nicholas noted a pattern. Each interpretation came in opposites, one promising hope, the other despair.
"It's difficult to pinpoint a single person's Fate," she admitted with a sigh. "Fate is a powerful, chaotic force—something we mortals aren't meant to fully comprehend. Trying to peer into it is like gazing into an endless storm."
Nicholas exhaled heavily, feeling a twinge of regret for even asking. Without a word, he pulled out his wallet. "Alright, how much for the reading?"
"Oh, it's free. Don't worry about it," she replied with a dismissive wave.
He nodded curtly, standing to leave. He didn't want to hear any more riddles masquerading as wisdom.
"Wait! Wait, wait, wait!" The fortune teller's flustered voice stopped him mid-step. "Don't just leave—it's getting good! I've never seen a reading like this before. I need to know more!"
Nicholas hesitated, reluctantly sitting back down. He crossed his arms. "Fine. One more reading. The future, I guess."
He figured there was no point in asking about his past—he already knew everything there was to know about it. After all, he'd lived through it himself.
Once Nicholas sat back down, she sighed in relief. It was, in all honesty, kind of cute.
I wonder how old she is actually... he thought. She seemed to be in her twenties, but she could easily be in her thirties. Hell, it was impossible to tell with how flawless her skin looked. Actually, now that he focused on it, her skin seemed almost… unnaturally perfect. It was so flawless that it felt unnatural—something that should be impossible for humans.
Before he realized it, his body began to tremble. He tried to look away, but he couldn't bring himself to move. His heart raced in a way he couldn't explain.
Her voice broke through his daze. "Let's begin, shall we?"
Nicholas blinked and shook his head, clearing the strange haze. What… what was that? he wondered, unnerved. But before he could dwell on it, she continued the reading.
As before, the procedure involved the same pulse of energy from the crystal ball flowing into the card he picked. But this time, the air grew heavier. Something was different.
The fortune teller froze as soon as her gaze fell on the card. Her expression shifted to one of shock and terror so profound it made Nicholas uneasy.
Did I make the same face earlier? he wondered grimly, his frown deepening as he watched her.
She muttered softly under her breath, too low for him to catch at first. "How…? How can this be?"
Nicholas furrowed his brow and reached out, plucking the card from her trembling hand. He stared at it, his confusion growing.
What the hell does this mean?
The card was completely blank. No images, no symbols, nothing. It wasn't faded or damaged—it was just… empty. As though it had been deliberately made to hold nothing at all.
"Nothing?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her hands trembled as she clutched the edges of the table. "Even if someone were to die in the future… there would still be something. There's always something. But this…" She trailed off, her lavender eyes wide and fixated on the blank card. "How is this possible?"
At that moment, Nicholas felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Yeah, this is way too creepy. Time to bail.
Moving slowly, he stood up from his seat, keeping an eye on her as if expecting her to lunge or shout. Her expression didn't change, her focus locked entirely on the blank card.
"I'm… gonna go now. Peace," he said, trying to keep his voice casual.
He pulled out some cash, left a small tip on the table, and backed away cautiously. She didn't react to his departure or even acknowledge the tip he left behind.
As Nicholas stepped out of the tent and into the bustling carnival, he inhaled deeply, feeling the fresh air wash away the lingering tension.
What the hell was that all about?
For now, he decided to chalk it up as another mystery to add to the increasingly bizarre list of things happening in his life.