Eclipsed Fate: Bound by Destiny

Shadows of a False Legend

I stared at the parchment and quill in the robed man's hand. Every second felt stretched, elongated beyond reason.

Zxia stood beside me, her gaze filled with unspoken questions as she observed the strange situation.

The scent of white lilies—usually soothing—felt overpowering now, mingling with the sharp tang of ink and the cheap perfume clinging to their robes.

"This… isn't what you think it is," I said, my voice still rough, though steadier now.

I struggled to mask my emotions, but the weight of this deception, this fabricated reputation they had built around me, was something unsettling. Something foreign.

The robed man gave a slow nod.

"We understand," he said. "But the stories in the tabloids are… compelling. You've faced countless threats, saved people from danger. That's why we're here. We wanted to thank you for your service."

"Service?" I echoed, my brow furrowing.

He sighed. "Yes, even if things didn't happen exactly as the tabloids claim. The rumors about you taking down the bandits at Red Harbor, saving a village from a collapsing dungeon—those stories gave people hope."

His gaze shifted to the Moon Dragon Blade at my side.

"That sword… does it really shine the way they say?" he asked, voice tinged with curiosity. "We only wanted to see it up close."

Zxia stepped forward, her tone gentle.

"We're not heroes," she said softly. "We're just trying to survive."

A faint smile accompanied her words—an attempt to help them understand.

The three followers behind the robed man exchanged glances and nodded. The tension in the air gradually eased.

And yet, an unexpected emotion surfaced within me—guilt.

These people weren't enemies. They weren't mercenaries or assassins. Just misguided admirers who had placed their faith in a story that wasn't real.

But that feeling faded just as quickly, replaced by a lingering wariness.

They might be fans, but they were also armed.

I still held the Moon Dragon Blade, my grip firm. I did not lower my guard.

"The stories… are exaggerated," I said. "But… thank you for your support."

I kept my words brief, careful not to reveal too much.

The robed man studied me for a moment before nodding, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face.

But he did not press further.

With a respectful nod, he turned and left, his followers trailing behind him. No further words were exchanged.

Silence settled once more.

A silence far more complicated than before.

I turned to Zxia, searching her face as if hoping to find some answer—some sense of direction for what we should do next.

The scent of white lilies lingered in the air, but now it was accompanied by the damp earth beneath our feet and the crisp bite of the cold night breeze.

The journey continued.

---

We left that place in silence, our only companions the dark shadows trailing our steps.

The encounter with those so-called fans felt like a bizarre nightmare—something surreal yet unsettlingly real.

Zxia clutched her white lily pendant tightly, as if seeking comfort in the midst of the strangeness we had just experienced.

As for me, an unfamiliar unease still lingered.

A reputation built on fear and death… now twisted into nothing more than an entertaining fiction for others.

"They… they truly believe we're them?" Zxia whispered, her voice trembling.

I only nodded, unable to offer a satisfying answer.

For the first time, a crack formed in the confidence I had always maintained with such rigid control.

Not because of physical danger, but because of the absurdity of the situation itself.

We walked in silence for a while, passing through the ruins of crumbling buildings.

The full moon cast a faint glow, illuminating our path through the darkness.

From the corner of my eye, I studied Zxia.

She appeared calm on the surface, but I could feel the unease radiating from her.

"We need to find a safe place," I said, my voice quieter than usual.

But even I wasn't sure where we should go.

The Black Lotus Temple, as recommended by Master Lao, still felt distant—and it wasn't necessarily safe.

The Black Dragon Organization was still hunting us.

The Shadow Alliance remained a looming threat.

Zxia nodded. "But where?"

That question struck deep.

I, a shadow assassin accustomed to navigating the darkness, now found myself lost.

No plan.

No safe haven.

All I had was Zxia, the Moon Dragon Blade, and the cold jade pendant hanging around my neck—a gift from Mother Elina, a relic that suddenly felt unbearably heavy.

"We'll… find somewhere hidden first," I said, though it was more to myself than to Zxia.

I lifted my gaze to the night sky.

The full moon loomed above, cold and distant.

It felt as if our lives were just as isolated, just as uncertain.

The road ahead was still long.

The shadows of our past still pursued us.

And though I was determined to protect Zxia, one question remained unanswered—one that lingered in the depths of my mind.

Where would this journey lead us?

---

The night air was bitterly cold, piercing through my skin like unseen daggers.

The scent of damp earth and decaying ruins filled my lungs.

Zxia walked beside me, her steps slow and careful, avoiding the sharp stones scattered across the ground.

The silence between us was heavier than the weight of the Moon Dragon Blade at my waist.

The jade pendant, dark green and ancient, rested against my chest—a chilling reminder of the burden I carried.

I scanned our surroundings.

The ruins we passed through were the remnants of a battlefield, ravaged by a war long past.

Collapsed walls, shattered windows, and the lingering metallic scent of dried blood told stories of violence and despair.

This place was abandoned, far from any main roads, yet the shadows that cloaked it carried an unmistakable sense of unease.

Then—movement.

A flicker of darkness shifting in the distance, slipping between the crumbling structures.

My assassin's instincts flared, warning me of the unseen dangers lurking ahead.

I subtly stepped closer to Zxia, muscles tensed, senses sharpened.

My right hand instinctively found the hilt of my blade, fingers curling around the familiar grip—ready to strike, ready to protect her.

"We need to stay alert," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the night breeze.

Zxia nodded, her glassy eyes betraying her fear.

She clutched her white lily pendant tighter, as if drawing strength from it.

"I… I'm scared," she admitted, her voice strained.

But I knew—her fear wasn't just of physical danger.

It was the fear of uncertainty, of the unknown path that lay ahead.

For the first time, I saw the fragility hidden beneath her healer's strength.

I remained silent.

The words I usually relied on—commands, plans, cold, calculated instructions—died in my throat.

For some reason, I found them difficult to say.

In the suffocating stillness, the shadowy figure in the distance drew closer.

Measured steps, deliberate yet cautious, advancing toward us from beyond the ruins.

I tightened my grip on my sword.

This fight was no longer just for my own survival.

It was for hers.

For Zxia, the girl trembling at my side.

---

The shadows emerged from behind the ruins—three figures clad in black, weapons drawn.

They moved in silence, like wild predators stalking their prey.

My breath quickened, but I forced myself to remain calm, steadying my pounding heart.

Beside me, Zxia trembled, her body rigid with fear.

I placed a hand on her shoulder—not to reassure her, but to ground myself.

To remind both of us that I was here, and I would protect her.

One of them stepped forward—a tall, broad-shouldered man wielding a gleaming sword that caught the moonlight.

"Hand over the pendant," he demanded, his voice heavy and devoid of emotion.

I said nothing, only meeting his gaze with a sharp, unyielding stare.

Zxia clutched her white lily pendant tighter, holding it against her chest as if it were her last lifeline.

I knew there was no escaping this fight.

"Don't make us force you," said the second figure, a woman with a dagger poised in her grip, standing just behind the swordsman.

"You can't win."

The third figure, smaller and leaner, remained silent, observing.

His hands were concealed beneath his cloak, but I could tell—he was the most dangerous of them.

A sharpshooter, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Slowly, I unsheathed the Moon Dragon Blade.

Its cold steel shimmered under the night sky, resonating with the fury burning inside me.

"You'll regret this," I muttered, my voice taut with restrained anger.

Not fear—never fear.

But a seething, simmering rage.

The fight was inevitable.

The clash of metal against metal shattered the silence, echoing through the ruins like a ghostly symphony.

The stench of blood mingled with the damp earth.

Zxia staggered back, horror-stricken, trying to avoid the sprays of crimson and the deadly arcs of steel.

I fought not just for my own survival, but for hers.

For the fragile girl who had somehow, unknowingly, begun to thaw the ice that had long encased my heart.