Chapter 86: REVELATION

Thoughts, prospects and possibilities riddled Risens mind as he opened the portal back to Windwake. Without a word or another look, Mother Raven slipped through the doorway, disappearing as if she had never stood before him on the grassy plain of the peculiar floating island.

Alone at last, the crushing weight of the possibilities finally dawned on him. His gifts, the skills offered to him had continued, altering his life again within a matter of moments. His path had never strayed from that of the unquestioning dutiful killer. Blades, bows and his hands were his tools of choice. That magic was no inserted into his repertoire was unexpected as it was u desirable. His opinion of the magus had never dwelled far above that of the common noble, finding them both severely wanting. The noble desire more than he had, looking down at those around them like urchins to be used, not respected. The magus walked with a dangerous air of superiority, their coveted craft held in higher regard than any of the skilled trades.

Trades that were likely just as skilled and took just as long to learn. That those without means were rarely granted the opportunity to grasp at the haughty profession only reinforced the disparate belief.

His newly names skills with magic left him feeling unexpectedly shallow. Risens understood the advantages that it would provide but somehow the sudden change, or at least realization was tainted.

Perception, ingrained in him over years would likely take time to change. One was not meant to believe that light was dark and silence was noise by mere words alone. This was a skill that would require use,experience to prove to his mind, far more than over others.

Closing the portal with a single motion, he shook his head. Perhaps, he had disproven his entire line of reasoning. The Quillkey was somehow bonded to his skin, yet the process of creating the portal was anything but natural. Tearing the fabric between two realms was not completed by physical prowess.

Temporarily shaking off the though, he surveyed the small field and the rundown house before him. Though the frames were there he expected he felt like a sculptor eying the stone he was about to carve, to form into the image of his or her desire.

Mother Raven had explained that this was his world to alter as he chose, though at the present he had no expectation of what he would do. Gardens of some sort would prove advantageous, both for sustenance as materials for mageVials and tinctures. He knew of one healer in particular who could help him with the plants to grow. Tawny had demonstrated an impressive level of understanding regarding the flora and fauna and their properties.

Beyond the gardens and the grounds, the house itself would need significant work. The holes in the ceiling would need mending, the interior requiring some level of function beyond its ramshackle current state. Risens had little belongings to call his own though a visit to his personal armory in the castle would never hurt.

The castle.

His private wing. The though of the pair of rooms he’d called his own for the extent of his remembered history brought a unexpected frown to his face. The evidence was there, yet he needed further proof that King Lathrenon had ordered his death in the mountains. He would still return to the castle to give report as expected.

He would be far stronger, far more prepared when he returned. Beyond a trap or a direct assault by Magus Pol, there was little he feared in the castle. The assassins that had been sent on him, whether their orders had been given by the orders of the King or other had all failed. There were none he knew of who could match his skills. With the addition of his Brands, he was certain that there would be none.

The thought caused a bubble of revulsion in his gut. He strayed dangerously close to falling already into a trap that had never troubled him in the past. Arrogance was a trait that generally ended the live of the assassins who lived by its call far earlier than others. Destra ,the outgoing killer who’d accompanied him through Breakker’s Pass seemed to be t exception to the rule. Risens knew too well that the bubbly personality was an carefully crafted, lethal act. Beyond the snide remarks and sarcasm was a exceptionally skilled, resourceful and competent assassin.

He’d survived multiple attacks on his life over the last few weeks. Though the most recent setup could be laid at the feet on King Lathrenon, the other two had an entirely different feel to them. Both the attack in the hedge maze and the ambush inside the discrete shop had both relied on mageVials of exceptional quality. The improvised glass devices were not uncommon, though the coincidences were too convenient to overlook. Whether the Dreamcatcher were connected to The Hunt, he had no knowledge though he intended to find out.

The thought brought Risens paces to an abrupt stop. Mother Raven had noted that time in the Barren worked similarly to in the Roost. He could linger here while Windwake would remain frozen in time. Not a breath had passed since he’d crossed the inky blackness of the doorway to this realm. Since departing the castle for Shial, he’d not had a moment of unoccupied time. He reached into his breast pocket removing the small tome and collection of documents he’d secreted away.

Seating himself on the edge of the broken pallet, he removed the pages bearing torn from the Dreamcatchers tome he removed from Lady Myrenas’s estate and the cipher provided by Fendri. His heart rate increased as he read the title scratched across the top of the parchment.

Rightmaker.

Risens anger only intensified as he worked through the simple yet time consuming cipher. Detailed in the stolen pages were dates, events, names, locations all chronicling the position he held and many of is illicit feats that had He read the stolen pages details chronicled many of his illicit, shadowed feats throughout the years. The silent blade of the King screamed at him from the pages. That eyes had potentially tracked his coming and going through the hidden entrance of the hedge maze sent a shiver down his spine. The location of the windSteps near Adalhard’s Bank of Tomes was documented, noted to be inside the specific building owned by the crown. The level and accuracy was disturbing.

The Dreamcatchers, it seemed were far better informed than he’d expected. Than the Kingdom knew.

The leak was far wider than he ever could have imagined. Far more compromising than he ever could have dreamed. Details and facts always had a way of sneaking out, though mostly were confined to rumors, neither confirmed nor denied, only monitored from the shadows. The sheer wealth of information container boggled his mind. He had no doubt that others beyond the Lady Myrenas were informed, that none had let slip details was astounding.

Scrolling through the pages his anger only grew. Seeing names in print with details cataloguing their connection, faces flashed to life in his mind. Some partially concealed with disguises to shield their identity while others, many others were locked into terrified, agonized expressions and splattered with their own lifeblood. Both trainer and victims. He remembered them all. Now he knew them by name.

To a man or woman his marks had all been deemed guilty, traitors to Halthome and the crown. It was by the unquestionable orders of King Lathrenon that had their fates had been sealed. Locations of his activities were detailed throughout the years, focused entirely on his campaigns within the city and adjoining districts. He was surprised that no mention of his crowning as the infamous, although entirely fabricated Lord Markin was not a name listed in the documents. Somehow his never implicated in the murder of the Duke, nor masquerading as has fictitious son.

There were plenty of gaps in the events that storied his life. Even a handful, if revealed could be catastrophic. That dozens of them were described in relative detail was frightening, though likely hundreds remained unknown. He was surprised to find that one so significant was left out in its entirety.

It seemed that some secrets were still safe.

He unclenched his fists, noting the sting of his fingernails digging into his palms. Whatever source or sources had been tapped had chronicled the details down to specific injuries he’d sustained. Broken legs as a result of an ill timed leap while under the tutelage of Vagon. A wicked gash that nearly spilled his innards, hastily treated in the field after a misstep triggered a sentinel. It was one of his first forays on his own. His excitement and anxiety had caused the error. He was lucky to have survived. The mark did not share the same fortune. That one of his healers had been involved, whether intentionally or not was confirmed. Through the fog of pain, he remembered the rough hands and deep voice of the man who’d treated him within the concealed clinic in his wing. The information provided by Tawny would soon be of use.

The man was a liability that needed dealing with.

Immediately.

He felt the sweat bead on his head as he reached the final passage in teh document. The entry was small, consisting of only a few lines. There had been no mention of locations beyond the span of Windwake, so the name stood out in its peculiarity—Hazelglen. He stopped reading, wracking his brain for details. His upbringing had entailed far more than merely martial training. Risens was well versed on politics, history and locations spread throughout the Kingdom. It was a town he recognized by name alone. One little known and erased by history.

Hazelglen was by all measures was a forgettable location. It was the definition of a sleepy backwater village, nothing more than a loose collection of a few dozen homes. He remembered the thin line of ink that struck the name from the official records. The village wouldn’t have garnered a second glance, nor his knowledge if it hadn’t been within a dozen miles of the King’s holiday estate of Pearlview. The castle was set on the pristine shores of the Sea Solace, hundreds of miles following the coast to the southeast of the city. The ill-fated settlement, living just beyond the shadow of the castle, was razed by fire at some point during his early childhood, at an age where he didn’t recognize or care. He doubted that more than a handful in Windwake had noticed it in life, so less would miss it in death. As such, the records of its history and cause of its demise were sparse. He had no knowledge if anything was ever built over the rubble.

His curiosity drove him onward, rushing his way forward to decipher every line. 

He let the cipher slip from his hands as he read the final passage. Clenching his jaw, he scanned the message a second and then a third time as he digested the words. His thrumming of his hear hammered in his ears with a percussive rhythm he could feel radiate through his body. 

Risens let the air slip slowly though his clenched teeth. With an intensity that threatened to light the parchment ablaze he scanned the words once again.

Hazelglen.

Razed to hide the secrets. None lived to tell the truth.

The shadow bears a name stolen from birth.

Risens.