She knew something was wrong the moment the door locked behind her. It had been reckless to seek out adventure, but she yearned for danger. Yearned for more than a life safe at home could provide. There had been whispers, of course, about what happened to those who strayed off the path and wandered into the temple in the woods. Whispers of blood and mysterious disappearances and strange howls. The creatures that lurked in the shadows just beyond civilization’s end were not kind. They were monsters, or so the story goes.

It was good, then, that she had not wandered off the path unintentionally. No, Leonor had come seeking something. A thrill or an experience or a memory to treasure before she was shackled to a life she did not want. It was only a matter of time before her father came up with a reason to marry her off to a stranger. For the good of the family, he would claim. For the family, but not for her. Leonor wanted more from her life. And so she would take it. 

She spun around in time to see forgotten torches sputter to life on the walls. They flared, fighting a losing battle against the encroaching shadows. As the light near the door flickered out, one farther down the hall burst into flame. Leonor took it as a challenge: skirts in hand, she walked down, down, down into the dark. 

It was surprisingly quiet in the temple. Her footsteps echoed through the ancient stone corridors with the finality of a death knell. This was a forgotten place. A place that yearned to come alive once more. Time was fluid in the dark. Seconds or centuries could have passed and she would not have known the difference. Somewhere above, the world continued to spin. But in the silence and stone, there was nothing more than the moment at hand. There was no room for fear in her heart as she followed the flame into the belly of the beast. No room for fear, for she feared returning unchanged more than anything. 

At last, she came upon a chamber set within the heart of the gloom. Every flicker of light was doused until she could not see the space in front of her eyes. She flinched, feeling breath against her neck. Finally, fear crept in. She raised her arms in front of her face as if mere flesh and bone could protect her. Her heart thundered in her chest, pounding in her ears.

And then someone laughed.

“It has been ages since a bird got caught in one of my nets.” Someone whispered, suddenly behind her. It was a man’s voice, with an accent from a long-forgotten time. “Tell me, little bird, what has my world become?”

“Who are you?” Leonor demanded, reaching out. Her fingers connected with empty space.

“Does it matter? You want something that I can give, and you have something that I want. There is nothing else to know.” He seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

“I have nothing that you could want.”

“Ah, but you do.” There were cold fingers wrapped around her wrist. She tried to yank away, but they tightened, nails digging in. She clenched her jaw, refusing to let a sound of pain escape her lips. “Do not fight me, little bird.” He crooned, “I am not the one who wants to clip your wings.”

“How did you—”

“There are many reasons people come to me.” He moved closer, but she still could not see him. “Many things that drive a person to madness.”

“I’m not mad.” She huffed. 

He only laughed. “Oh, but you are. No sane person would come here seeking me.”

“I did not come here for you.” It was true. She hadn't known that he existed. 

“You came for an adventure.” He guessed, “And I am most certainly that.”

“Then let me go.” She tugged at his hold again. This time, he released her.

“What is an adventure without a little danger?” He was closer now. Leonor refused to back down. He would not trap her, not as her father wished to.

“This is no adventure.” She declared with courage she did not feel, “A walk in the dark is hardly exciting.”

“So the little bird has claws after all.” He chuckled, circling her with the grace of a mountain lion. “Would you like to gamble? Be the one in control of your own life?”

“I have nothing you could want.” She said, “And I am not one to leave my life up to chance.”

“Says the woman willing to wander in the dark in hopes of finding a better path.” He challenged, “Why resist? I’m here, offering you a different road. Take it.”

“A gamble means there are stakes.” She mused, intrigued.

“There are always stakes. I assure you, mine are quite fair.” 

“I will not play unless I know who my opponent is.” It was a dare for him to reveal himself. She was surprised when he took it.

  Torches roared to life all at once, the light momentarily blinding. Leonor blinked twice, staring at the figure before her. He was tall and lean, with angular features and limbs that were slightly too long. He towered above her, draped in a fashion peculiar in its familiarity. He appeared like a forgotten prince out of a fairytale: if she looked too closely, he was sure to vanish entirely. 

“There now, little bird. Come sit at my table and try your hand.” With a flick of his wrists, an oaken table shimmered into being in the center of the room. Two decks of gilded playing cards rested on the varnished surface, glowing slightly. 

“You haven’t told me the stakes.” 

He pouted, “It isn’t any fun if you know what you have to lose.”

Leonor crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m not a fool.”

“Better a fool than a coward.” He shrugged, the gesture oddly human. 

“I am neither.” She insisted.

“Then play.” Leonor shook her head slightly.

“What are the stakes?” He did not answer her, only slinking closer. 

“Think not of the stakes but of the rewards. I will give you a wish. Any wish. Name it, and it will be yours.” He took her hands, gentle as a lover. “You want more than this life, little bird. Let me give it to you.” It was a compelling proposition. Or it would have been had she not noticed the gleam in his eyes. 

“Who are you to offer me such things?” At her question, he grinned, the expression transforming his face into a ghastly mask.

“Some call me Chance. Others call me Fate.”

“You’re an old god.” She realized, jerking away. Her mother had told her stories of the gods who lingered in the shadows, forgotten by the world. They lost themselves to the whispers of the dark, trapped between this realm and the next with no way to escape. 

“I am so much more than that.” He gestured at the table, “I can be the creator of your future.” He leaned forward until their noses were almost touching, “But only if you play the game.” It was a risk to play, but more of one not to. She had no way out of the dark, no fire to guide her or path to follow. And she knew the fate of those who wander too far from the light. It was either surrender now, or take a chance. So Leonor looked into the face of the old god and smiled.

“Deal the cards.” She commanded, “I will not leave my chances up to Fate.”