Breaker of Fate

Copyright Copyright © 2023 by R.M. Derrick Published by The Sapphire Quill, LLC. All rights reserved. ISBN 979-8-9860666-0-8 Cover design by Amanda S. Dumky www.amandasdumky.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. www.rmderrickauthor.com Dedication To anyone who grew up without seeing their fat body represented in books, especially in the fantasy genre. We deserve these stories too. And to anyone struggling to make it through. You matter. Your story matters. Even if you aren't swinging swords at dragons. You're here and I'm proud of you for that. Content/Trigger Warnings Content/Trigger WarningsBreaker of Fate is an adult romantic fantasy. Please protect your mental health. Triggers/content warning include: explicit sex scenesprofanityviolenceblooddeath (battle/fight scenes)death of a parent (remembered)and suicidal ideation (POV character - 2 instances w/ different characters) Pronunciation Guide Derica – Dare-ih-kuh Reid – Reed Pip – Pihp Tedric – Teh-drik Father Simond – Fah-thur Sih-muhnd Balduin – Ball-dwihn Justus Hadrian – Just-us Hay-dree-un Nyle – Pronounced like the river Nile Mazolan – Maz-oh-lahn Callathe – Cal-lah-thay Faelon – Fay-lohn Sarenya – Sar-en-yha Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Chapter Twenty-seven Chapter Twenty-eight Chapter Twenty-nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-one Chapter Thirty-two Chapter Thirty-three Chapter Thirty-four Chapter Thirty-five Chapter Thirty-six Chapter Thirty-seven Chapter Thirty-eight Chapter Thirty-nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-one Chapter Forty-two Chapter Forty-three Chapter Forty-four Chapter Forty-five Acknowledgments About Author Chapter One Derica was one breath away from shattering. Father Simond, a Father of the Disciples of the Loom, smiled, soft brown eyes sweeping the gathered villagers. As in years past, he wore gray robes, his liberally silver hair catching the morning sunlight as he stood before the crowd. Derica noticed more lines weathering his kind face this spring, specifically those around his mouth and spreading from the corners of his eyes. She wondered if the past twelve months outwardly marked her as well, and if he’d be able to see it. If he could spot the way her knuckles bleached, or the way her eyes revealed a desire to flee. Doubtful. Mrs. Hammond hadn’t even noticed when Derica stopped in the bakery this morning. Unclenching her hands, Derica twined her fingers in the faded blue fabric of her skirt, then fiddled with the belt around her waist. Less than a hundred people—the town’s entire population—milled about the square serving as Arlan’s hub, assembled for the annual event. Derica’s boots scuffed the pitted, crumbling cobblestone beneath her feet as she rose on tiptoe, looking for Reid. She knew he couldn’t be in the bakery—Derica and Mrs. Hammond had locked up before wishing each other a happy Rite Day earlier this morning. A few people trickled from the inn out into the square, but she didn’t spy Reid’s large frame and golden hair amongst them. The owner of the general store shooed stragglers out of the shop, her mouth twisted in aggravation, arms crossed menacingly. Derica’s lips twitched as she swept the rest of the crowd with her gaze. A raven lazily circled overhead before alighting on the curled, wooden shingles of the inn’s roof. From her vantage point to the west of the square, sheltered from some of the crowd near the well, she still didn’t see him. Her ankle rolled when she wobbled on a bit of damaged stone, and she caught herself on the brick lip of the well. It was never more clear to Derica than on Rite Day how her small village was aging. Reid’s family’s farm stretched to the south, wide expanses of pasture where their pigs grazed. To the east, the miller’s wheat fields were beginning to sprout their golden bounty. Squeezed between the forest to the west and the village to the north lay the cattle farm. The few businesses that called the tiny farming village home closed on this day every year. The event was really an excuse to cease work, masquerading as a religious festival, and it brought everyone together. It was her mother’s favorite day for that reason. This would be the first Rite Day since Derica’s mother passed. Father Simond always officiated and had been for as long as she could remember. This year, it appeared he brought an acolyte along. A younger man in matching drab robes stood behind and off to the side, looking rather lanky and dour behind the father. The acolyte’s sallow skin tone suggested he saw very little of the bright sunlight currently beaming down on the square, highlighting the only cheerful thing about him—his light blond hair. His eyebrows, darker than his hair by several shades, decorated his low forehead with severe slashes. His nose and chin formed surprisingly delicate points in an otherwise harsh visage. Eerily pale gray eyes bounced around the assembled population of Arlan while his thin mouth was pulled taut, conveying barely contained distaste or impatience. When their gazes clashed, Derica jerked her chin down and considered the scuffed leather of her half boots. She didn’t want anyone’s scrutiny today. With every second, she felt more like an overstuffed cake pan in an oven. Any moment, she’d bubble over and spill out all the feelings rioting inside. When someone moved beside her, Derica looked up. Reid. Derica mentally sighed with both relief and exasperation. She smiled in greeting but didn’t meet his eyes. There was no one in all of Veridion she was closer to. If he saw