Page 93 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
Chained in this dungeon, Noble doubted he’d ever see his father again. It seemed that the only way he’d escape this miserable place—and the misery inside him—would be through death.
“As you can see,” the lead adept said, turning toward the ledgermaster, “it cannot be contained. I am not proud to admit this failure, but there are plenty more experiments we can—”
“We should’ve terminated this Order and all its so-called knights a long time ago, what with the havoc it has already wreaked,” the knight interrupted, resting his palm on the pommel of the sword at his hip.
It wasn’t the threat of death but the label offailurethat had Noble sagging in his chains.
“This is the cost of research,” the lead adept said simply. As if toying with nature and killing innocent test subjects was just a means to the end they sought. “Do not let one malformed iteration turn us off the path to greatness.”
“One?” the knight exclaimed. “The Western Wood is overrun because of this program.”
“The Valiant have it well in hand,” the lead adept said dismissively, waving a tattooed hand. “Whenwe succeed in our venture, it will all prove worthwhile.”
“This Order and its vile experiments have existed for generations,” the knight argued. “Your promises are as empty as the adepts who came before you.”
“Lord Haron won’t be pleased to hear this,” the squire put in. “Is there not a way to cure…” He gestured vaguely in Noble’s direction, not quite looking directly at him.
The lead adept scoffed. “We were not charged with findingcures, Squire. Cures move us backward. My duty is to move humanityforward.”
“You call this humanity?” the knight said, pointing at Noble. “This is a disgrace.Thisshould never see the light of day.”
Noble was beginning to shake all over, not from the humiliating conversation, but from the monster’s urge inside him. He wanted to peel off his skin just to let it out. He tensed against his cuffs, squirming with the horrible discomfort of living in this body, aching to tear himself apart just to escape the agony.
They were right about him. Hewasan abomination.
“You could retire the Order,” the ledgermaster suggested. “Start fresh.”
“What of our test subjects?” one of the other researchers asked. She was short in stature, with dark curly hair. Though Noble knew none of the adepts’ names—they were careful to remain anonymous down here—he knew this one to be compassionate. “Would it not be inhumane to abandon them?”
“Their very existence is inhumane,” the knight said. “Terminating them would be a mercy. Hence the Lord’s investment in the Valiant.”
Still panting through his teeth, his nude body slicked with sweat, Noble agreed with the knight. Death would be a mercy.
“I know an Adept of the Order of Alchemy,” the researcher insisted, “whose studies in water align with the gaps in our efforts. Perhaps she could—”
The lead adept snorted. “Alchemists no know nothing of Arcanemagic.”
“But maybe she could help them?” the kind researcher pressed, gesturing at Noble.
“Don’t be soft-hearted,” the lead researcher scolded.
“I’m not,” she said. “Passing the burden to an alchemist would make this program look more successful on the whole. While she addresses previous experiments, we can forge ahead.”
She was appealing to the lead adept’s practical side, his grandiose ambition, and it was working. She spared a single glance in Noble’s direction, a small smile forming.
All he could do was snarl back at her.
“What of him?” the knight asked. “Do you really think alchemical magic can undo an arcane mistake?”
“Retire his Order,” the lead adept decided. “Let the alchemist work on our past subjects. In the meantime, we’ll be free to break new ground.”
Everyone looked to the squire for confirmation. He frowned for a moment, pondering the plan, then gave a single nod. “The Lord will be pleased to see the research continue under a new Order.”
Without additional prompting, the ledgermaster hefted the book he carried, cradling it in one arm. The foiled title—Ledger of the Order of the Morta—caught the light of the lone torch as he cracked the book open. “This will take a quarter hour,” he told the group.
“Let us all retire to more a civilized setting,” the lead adept said, extending a palm toward the open door of Noble’s cell.
Footsteps echoed on stone as everyone filed out, leaving only the ledgermaster and the kind researcher behind. More howls roused in the darkness as other subjects in other cells called out to the visitors.
