SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Chapter 672: Diverging Threads

Rhosyn had not expected that question.For the first time since Trafalgar had arrived, the calm around her cracked by a hair. She did not answer right away. Her black eyes rested on him, unreadable at first, while the wind combed through the high overlook and carried the distant hum of the city below.

The city stretched beneath them in layers of stone, glass, mana lamps, and moving lights, alive in the late hour, unaware that two Primordials stood above it speaking about something old enough to make cities feel temporary.

Destiny.

It was not a word Rhosyn could treat lightly. Not after everything she had done. Not after reaching across boundaries she should never have touched and pulling Trafalgar's soul into this world. That action had carved a consequence into reality. The original Trafalgar had not survived. The boy who should have died in that bathroom was gone, and someone else had opened his eyes inside that body, carrying another life, another name, another hunger to survive. Had she changed Trafalgar du Morgain's fate when she did that, or had her hand simply moved because the path had already demanded it?

That was the part she had never been able to answer.

Every action birthed consequence. A hand raised. A door opened. A blade drawn. Even mercy left marks somewhere. A good consequence, an ugly one, one that rippled outward for years without asking permission. People liked to pretend they could choose without cost, but choice was never so polite. It always took payment eventually.

And yet, if every decision led only to one final outcome, then choice was nothing but decoration. A beautiful lie people told themselves while walking toward a wall they could not see. Rhosyn did not believe that. She had seen too many paths split, too many futures bend under the weight of one stubborn soul refusing to move as expected.

Finally, she answered.

"Yes," Rhosyn said, her voice low, careful. "But not the way most people mean it. I believe every person carries more than one path. Different destinations. Different burdens. Different reasons for existing. But I do not believe destiny is a chain fixed from birth."

Trafalgar watched her from beside the stone railing, those dark-blue eyes calm in a way that made the question feel heavier. Calm did not mean casual with him. If anything, it meant he had already been thinking about this long enough to become dangerous.

"Is that so?" he asked. "Why do you believe that?"

Rhosyn turned toward the city again. Far below, mana carriages moved like fireflies through the northern streets. Her hands rested loosely at her sides, black sleeves shifting in the wind.

"Because I have seen choices wound the future," she said. "Imagine a soldier standing before a collapsing gate. Behind him are strangers. Ahead of him is the road home. If he runs, he lives, and those people die. If he stays, perhaps they live, perhaps he dies, perhaps both happen. The gate was always collapsing. That part was already in motion. But what the soldier does beneath it changes the shape of everything that follows."

Trafalgar gave a quiet hum, not convinced, but not dismissing it either.

Rhosyn continued, "Maybe in one path, one of those strangers survives and becomes a healer. Maybe in another, that healer never exists, and a child years later dies from a wound that would have been treated. The soldier does not see any of that. He only sees stone falling and people screaming. But his decision reaches farther than his understanding."

Trafalgar leaned one arm on the railing. "But couldn't you say that soldier was destined to choose one option from the start?"

"You could," Rhosyn replied.

"That is convenient."

"It is also incomplete."

That earned the faintest curve at the edge of Trafalgar's mouth. "Incomplete answers. My favorite kind."

Rhosyn ignored the jab, though something almost amused flickered through her expression. "A person can stand before several paths and only walk one. Once they walk it, the consequence becomes real. That does not mean the other paths never existed. It only means they were abandoned."

Trafalgar tapped one finger against the railing, the sound small against the wind. "I understand the idea. I make a decision, and what comes afterward is mine to deal with. Good or bad. I can accept that part." His expression grew more thoughtful. "But if everything around me keeps pushing me into certain decisions, that gets harder to call freedom."

Rhosyn looked at him again. "Is that why you asked?"

"Oh, nothing that dramatic," Trafalgar said, which immediately made it sound dramatic. "My mind started wandering while I was waiting for you. That is what happens when people make me wait in scenic places."

Her mouth softened slightly, but he went on before the warmth could last.

"There is also what happened with Selendra au Nocthar," Trafalgar said. "I do not know if you know her. Vampire. Nocthar bloodline. Seventh daughter, if I remember correctly. Her class is peculiar - Blood Oracle. She can partially read someone's status and see possible futures."

Rhosyn's attention tightened a little. "Possible futures?"

"That is what I was told. Future branches. Destined futures, depending on how dramatic you want to make it sound." Trafalgar's voice stayed even, but the dryness underneath was unmistakable. "During the war between the Vaelion and the Thal'zar, she saw something related to me. And later, part of it came true."

Rhosyn did not interrupt. Her face offered nothing, though Trafalgar could tell she was listening closely now.

"It made me wonder if I will meet her again," he continued. "The seventh daughter of the Nocthar might be useful. Knowing a little more before the future decides to punch me in the mouth would not be terrible."

"Or it would make the blow land where you are staring," Rhosyn said.

He huffed quietly through his nose.

Rhosyn's tone grew more serious. "Do you understand how dangerous that would be? You are an heir of one of the Eight Great Families. She is another. You are no longer someone who can move without consequence. The world is not peaceful enough for two heirs to meet in secret and assume no one notices. Especially not you. There are more eyes around you now than you admit."

"I can sneak into places," Trafalgar said. "I can pass unnoticed when I need to. Today proved that much."

"Today was not a Great Family city."

"Fair." He tilted his head slightly, conceding the point without liking it. "A major city would be different. Nocthar territory would be worse. And if Selendra is kept close to her family, even Caelum would have trouble reaching her."

Rhosyn studied him. "So what do you expect from the future? Is that why you want to find her? To ask what happens, dislike the answer, and try to cut your way around it?"

Trafalgar did not answer immediately. The question deserved more than reflex.

Below them, the city kept breathing through its lights. The city looked peaceful from above, which was one of the better jokes the world had told him lately. Everything looked peaceful from far enough away. Wars, murders, conspiracies, monsters wearing human plans - all of it became pretty lights once you climbed high enough.

"Hm..." Trafalgar murmured. "It would be interesting, no doubt. Useful, maybe. But I do not know if hearing it would actually change the outcome. Maybe I would avoid one road and end up walking into the same place from another street."

Rhosyn's black eyes returned to the city. "A vision can be a warning. It can also be bait. If Selendra sees a possible future, she does not see every hand moving around it. She sees a shape. A wound. A fire. A result. People who hear prophecies often become very skilled at building the thing they fear."

Trafalgar's jaw shifted faintly.

He remembered blue fire.

Bodies.

Void Creatures.

A battlefield he had not asked for but could no longer dismiss.

"She saw me in a war," he said. "A large one. Void Creatures involved. Many dead. Blue flames."

He stared at her for a breath, the old irritation rising, familiar and almost comfortable by now. Rhosyn had a talent for giving him doors and refusing to hand over the key. Maybe that was also destiny. Or maybe she was simply difficult.

Probably both.

"You know," Trafalgar said, "for someone who believes destiny is not fixed, you are very good at hiding information until the path becomes inconvenient."

Rhosyn accepted the accusation without flinching. "Yes."

He blinked once. "You are supposed to defend yourself."

"No."

"Unpleasantly honest."

For a short while, neither spoke. The wind shifted around them, tugging lightly at Rhosyn's black hair and Trafalgar's coat. The pause was not empty. It carried too much - Selendra's vision, the Void, the future, all the paths Trafalgar had stepped onto without knowing where they narrowed.

Rhosyn broke it first. "Where is your right hand?"

"Caelum?" Trafalgar asked, as if he had another right hand hidden somewhere. "Reporting to Valttair about what happened in Aurevane."

Rhosyn's attention returned to him with full weight. "The full version?"

"No." Trafalgar's answer came easily. "A version Valttair can hear without immediately tearing the continent open to inspect the wound himself."

Rhosyn's voice lowered. "And what is the complete version?"