Some say fate is an excuse used by the weak.
Others say it is comfort for those who are afraid to choose.
I once believed both were lies.
To me, fate was nothing more than coincidence dressed in poetry. People failed, blamed something invisible, and moved on. It was easier that way.
But fate is not belief. It does not need faith to exist.
________________________________________
A black-haired, young man stood before a massive boulder as his red eyes filled with anger, his fists slick with blood.
I punched it again.
And again.
And again.
Stone cracked. Skin tore. Pain screamed through my bones but I welcomed it. The pain was honest. Pain didn't lie like hope did.
I thought I still had a choice.
I thought I was finally free.
But what did it matter now?
Fate had already chose me.
"Trying to break the mountain again?"
A calm voice came from behind me.
I froze.
I hadn't sensed him approach something that should have been impossible.
I turned to see the man standing a few steps away, hands behind his back, expression unreadable. He looked ordinary at first glance. Too ordinary. But his eyes… they carried exhaustion deeper than age.
"You'll only ruin your hands," he continued.
"I don't care," I said, clenching my bleeding fists. "If I keep punching, maybe something will change."
He studied me in silence for a moment.
"Change doesn't come from force alone, Kael," he said. "Sometimes it comes from understanding why you're being tested."
I laughed bitterly. "Tested? By who?"
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he stepped forward and placed a cloth around my hands, tying it gently almost carefully.
"By fate," he finally said.
"And what you'll choose to do when it gives you no good options."
I looked at him. "You talk like I still have a choice."
For the briefest moment, pain flickered across his face.
"You do," he said quietly.
"Just not the kind you want."
I scoffed and looked back at my hands. The blood was still warm.
"You know this won't help," he said.
"Neither does standing around! ," I shouted back. "If I get stronger strong enough maybe I can change things!."
For a moment, he didn't answer.
"You still believe strength alone can grant freedom," he said quietly.
I clenched my jaw. "Isn't that what you've been teaching me
No," he replied. "I've been teaching you how to survive for what's coming."
I looked at him sharply. "You talk like this world already decided my ending."
His hands paused.
Just for a second.
Then he finished tying the cloth and stood up.
"The world doesn't decide endings," he said. "It corrects deviations."
I frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he continued, turning away, "that when something refuses to happen… something worse takes its place."
You make it sound like fate," I said.
He stopped.
Slowly, he looked back at me, his gaze unreadable.
"Fate isn't some god pulling strings, Kael," he said. "It's a law. And laws don't care about what you want."
Silence stretched between us.
Then he sighed.
"Come," he said. "Training starts now."
As I followed him, I glanced once more at the boulder behind me unchanged, unmoved, unbroken
For the first time, I wondered if it wasn't meant to be broken at all.
