And in The Hands of Fate

By Ago Dios

Luck is a lady so we've heard, and perhaps fate is responsible for much of our woes. But what about The Hands of Fate? He is a man with a face and name like any other man. But he is no ordinary man for he is the destiny of balance and the hand of fate bending all of the laws of reality according to the laws of fate.
When this man of fate enters the life of young Ara Dayquen Jeborne and as fate touches her life it turns her world upside down as she is struck by madness. Hadlyne, her cousin is unwilling to lose her to this strange madness and determines to seek a cure for her even going as far as to see a magician. But he only learns what she already knew the man of fate is the only one who can save her. As both of their world's fall apart they desperately await for the appearance of the elusive and mythical man, The Hands of Fate. However, in the manner of fate, he is never around or doing quite what is expected of him.
But what can anyone expect of fate, predictability?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ago Dios
• Release date: Oct 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370861828

Book preview

And in The Hands of Fate

{The Hands of Fate: Book 1}

By: Ago Dios

For A.

The Wisest of men and Greatest of fathers anybody could have ever asked for.

Thanks Dad

And in The Hands of Fate

{The Hands of Fate: Book 1}

Copyright 2017 Ago Dios

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictional and any resemblance to real people or places is purely coincidence

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please just encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite retailer. And thank you again for your support.

Table of Contents

Prologue

1- Within the Hands of Fate

2- Trials of Fate

3- The Search for a Cure

4- The Man of Fate

5- The Other Magician

6- The Mystical Cure

7- Whispers in the Night

8- The Visitor

9- Into the Storm

10- On the Road to Jeborne

11- An Old Friend

12- The Witch’s Visitation

13- A Demon’s Unease

14- Meeting Fate

15- The Magician’s Triumph

16- The Shadow of Justice and Fate

17- At Grief’s Door

18- A Mysterious Gift

19- The Islands of Dannes

20- Battling the Demon

21- The Magician and Fate

22- The Balance of Fate

23- Death and Miracles

24- Visions and Stone

25-The Stone Lion

26_He Who Waits in Darkness

27- The Fateful Visit

Afterword

About Ago Dios

Prologue

On the line, one stands alone

Between the shadow and the light

It began in a time a long way away from now and today, extending farther into a non-existent time in the past. In a place no one would recognize today because it has long ago crumbled to dust, wiping itself from the slate of history.

It was here a great event, the birth of a child, changed the course of history of all mankind. Impacting even our world today. It was Fate born into the frail form of a baby, whose very entrance into the world caused life to alter.

The first form of change began with his own family and it wasn’t the good kind. The trouble began with a name.

Why? You may wonder.

The reason is unbeknownst to many of us today. But a great deal can be found in the definition of a name. It can become a life’s motto or the explanation why children grew up to became the people they did. Many generations and cultures have forgotten this and the importance in a name but not this one. No, they knew that a man could become great if given a great name or one of a worthy significance. They knew man was inclined to live out his life in accordance with his name so they chose their names very carefully.

However, the name chosen for him by his mother was so strange to them that the family objections were many and soon grew loud! Nonetheless, she took no heed to what they said. With the firm insistence that her son would be called one of the strangest names of that time, Destin Stateras. And yet she made no attempt to add the family name to this and it was noticed. Stupefied and with no small amount of incredulity the family cried out for the reason she was rejecting their name. Was he not blood kin?

When she answered them it was in a low voice. Destin Stateras is the Destiny of the Balances. He will become an outcast to his race as he lives out his name. He will become like none you have known before and will be misunderstood and hated by many. He will be as a ruler with power in his hands but no empire. As the new mother gazed upon her husband’s family she added in a failing voice. He does not share your name for you will be the first to reject him. He belongs to no family.

Looking down into the infant’s face she gave a sob. Oh-my poor little boy! Burying her face against the soft frailty of the little body.

The family clamored angrily to know the meaning of her ambiguous talk! For no one calls a poor babe such a ridiculous name and says such horrible things of his future. She was his mother after all! Like his own family would reject one of their own, the very thought!

And yet the new mother, who lay unresponsive to their riling.

As the midwife bent to lift her off the baby, she let out a loud cry of alarm!

It was then that the family looked they saw that the boy’s mother was now a deathly white. In her dying breath she reached out to her child once more, murmuring. Such little hands…Hands of Destiny-my Destiny.

With these words the light of life faded from her eyes and she was gone.

The baby was curiously quiet as the whole room erupted into sounds of shock, hysteria and grief! The little hand still clinging to two of his dead mother’s fingers his little eyes steadily searching for her face. A face he would never see again in his life.

That was also the first and the last the child saw of his anguished father as he bent over his dead wife folding her body in his arms, begging her to come back to him. When she would not respond he sent up a wail that would have chilled the dead! Tearing at his hair he cried out against the gods that let this happen.

But the gods gave no answer. In his despair he turned heel and fled! Not sparing even a single glance for his little son as he abandoned his child to make life long drunkard of himself. The head of the family and the first of the family to reject the small babe just as his mother had foretold. Foolishly letting his lands go to waste and ruin as he steadily drank his life away. Rousing himself only to call for another bottle.

After that night the whole family had little to do with the child and perhaps they would have gladly let him die then. However it was not to be his fate for though they could not just let him die they did the next best thing and left him to a nurse to see that he got through his first years. At the age of four he was then abandoned to the care of the only relative who would take him, his grandfather.

Nevertheless it was reluctantly that he took the toddler. Doing it only for the sake of his drunkard of a son and the daughter-in law whom he had cherished some fondness for. But by no means was he an appropriate guardian for a small child. He was an ill-kept, cold, bad tempered old man who fancied himself a great wizard. With no use or love for children; even a remarkably quiet and well behaved little boy like his grandson.

Often the boy was left to himself as his grandfather’s neglect of him grew as he became obsessed by one venture after another. The small boy was uncommonly grave for one of his age and it was unheard that he should be caught in laughter. He never cried to anyone’s knowledge. Once and a while he did smile but this was a rare occasion. It was often commented upon how unnatural it was for a little boy to be so solemn. For even as a very little boy he was inexpressive. It would have been said that it was because of life’s cruel blow to him that he boy grew to be like no other child. Even one raised in such conditions. Plainly he was not to be like other children.

People knew it, yet without understanding exactly what they knew. Except there was this uncomfortable and unshakable feeling people got when he looked at them, it was as if he saw them for what they truly were. For some it was a bizarre sensation of being completely understood without a single word. Nevertheless it wasn’t a wonderful feeling for all, those who had some secret guilt or sin would react quite violently around the child. It didn’t take long before the people began to have doubts about him and it was suggested that he was a cursed and an evil child.

There were those who offered the only thinkable defence to this accusation that perhaps he was retarded, without a wit in his head. Which was a weak and useless excuse as he proved again and again that he was frighteningly intelligent and not a simple child by any means! This did nothing to lessen the number of those afraid of him. Only a few brave souls continued to try to overcome their uneasiness to be kind to him.

Fate as a child was not an imposing figure but it was a strange thing to see the little boy. He was so small, pale and solemn with eyes impossible to phantom or to describe. The closest description, and one that most often came to the mind, was that his eyes were like twin silver moons behind shifting layers of cloud. Grey eyes that were never fully grey but at moments pure silver. He had no liveliness or spirit to boast of. Instead he was rather colorless to the average observer. On the other hand he never appeared weak, dull or pitiable and certainly not weak in character. There were hints of strength in the features of that childish face but his hands gave it most away. They were uniquely beautiful but large for a child. Strangely artistic hands with long strong fingers with an incredible talents and skill that went beyond learning. The child was an enigma demanding nothing yet alive and in his way quietly thriving.

Then there came a strange day when he was not yet seven years of age. The neighbours all heard his grandfather fly into one of his numerous rages.

You are the reason! You Destin! You made the clouds go grey, to cover the mountains to hide the blue of the sky!

Destin was not known to reply to these unreasonable accusations or in reality say anything. On this day however things changed as those eyes grew darker and lifted to consider his grandfather with patient intensity.

Cursed was what you were! If you had not been born your mother would not have died! You killed her! And you destroyed your father by killing her! Fate has more power than destiny, my boy do not make that mistake! And your fate was to curse those around you and the ground you stand upon! The old man swore with ferocity.

Then his grandfather became aware that the small frame of his grandson had grown stiff and straight. Those odd silver eyes clouded to black then shot sparks when they settled on him. The grandfather had never seen him react before. Even he knew Destin to be a most passive child accepting occurrences as if they were to be expected.

Then in a voice older and sterner than any child of his years the boy spoke. Fate has no power over me. I can tip the balance of fate any way that is fit. For I am The Hands of Fate, and it is not one to curse itself.

His voice was cold with authority, "I am only as I was meant. My mother, was mistaken in her choice of words when she sought to explain so your minds would understand. But you would not understand and nor were you meant to. You will do what you will. Regardless of those who strive to cast a shred of wisdom your way.

But know this! I was made the representation of both Destiny and Fate.

Silence reigned and the room felt stifling for the old man who suddenly felt that he had heard the slamming of the gates to hell when his grandson spoke. It was not something a child, less than seven years old would ever say! Nor was his manner as one might expect of a young child as he. How could this little boy, who had endured this treatment for so long then suddenly change to break his silence to rebuke him in a manner of authority? Such authority-but whose authority? Surely not his own he