Roche had never spent so much time in the dungeons, which was quite a statement from her considering how many times Tigris had sent her there. She straightened, wincing at the ache in her back. It had been several weeks since Finn's attempted coup, but rubble still littered the grounds of the solitary wing. Every time she looked over at the place she'd been trapped in with the prince, she felt a small shiver go up her spine.
"More water?" a young teenage boy asked her, running up to her side with a small cup. She nodded, accepting the refreshing drink with a warm smile.
"Thanks, Bart."
The boy shot her a small smile. "Got anything for me today?"
Roche sighed, digging a hand into her pockets and drawing out a chunk of stone. "This one is from Cell 182. It housed a bandit by the name of Gyrund, who was known for his rather successful heists of the castle vaults. He evaded capture for three years and hid his stolen goods throughout various kingdoms. All of the stolen items have still not been recovered today."
Bart's eyes widened with fascination. He took the rock with careful hands, turning it over. He stilled, trembling with excitement. "Is that his signature? He etched it into the stone?"
"I'd like to think so," Roche told him with a sly smile, "The stone also kind of looks sculpted, does it not?"
"Yeah," Bart breathed, holding the rock up to the light, "Like a tiny statue. Think he was trying to do a self portrait?"
"In his cell? With what tools?" Roche prodded, feeling a tiny bit of satisfaction as curiosity lit the boy's eyes up. He turned the stone over in his hands, his lips set with determination.
"I bet I could figure out how he could do it."
"Go on. Tell me what you find." she told him. Bart shot her a determined nod, tucking the stone carefully into his pocket before running off. Roche smiled after him before grabbing her pickaxe once again. She wasn't great with children, but Bart was of the curious sort. He and his friends often asked Roche to tell them stories. They were patient too, and waited for her to stammer through the entire tale and all of her side tangents. They were good kids, and Roche often tried to bring them tiny objects of fascination.
"Tigris is going to kill you if she sees you playing with rocks again," a voice sounded behind her. Roche turned, finding Brom smirking at her, leaning on his sword. She raised her brows at him.
"And she certainly won't like it if you break yet another sword or blunt it," she pointed out. Brom's lips tilted downwards.
"Ah, but I need something to lean on or my back will pay the price."
As if in sympathy, Roche's own back twinged. She swung her pickaxe weakly at the rocks. "Gee, can't imagine what that's like. Shouldn't you be helping?"
Brom shrugged, "I'm just on patrol duty."
"How wonderful," Roche narrowed her eyes at him, "Try that again with the truth."
Brom sighed, pulling his pickaxe out from behind his back. "Fine. I'm trying to skip my shift, want to come?"
"Brom!" Roche chided, "This hall isn't going to clean itself."
"Neither is the super secret tunnel that I'm supposed to be cleaning all on my own," he said, frowning dramatically.
Roche sighed. "Fine. I'll help you clean the tunnel. But I want a good story in return."
"Deal."
Roche trudged through the debris, following Brom to the secluded tunnel. Tigris had posted guards near the tunnel entrances within the castle discreetly. She didn't want to draw attention to their existence in case another Council sympathiser was amongst their midst, but she didn't want to leave the castle undefended either. She'd settled for ensuring that the guards patrolled by the tunnels every few minutes on high alert. No one except for Roche, Ivie, Sir Harold, Ruth, Brom, and Kai knew about the tunnels, which meant that only their group could assist in the clean up in that region.
Brom took over breaking up the rocks with his pickaxe and muscles that Roche envied while she scooped the dust and smaller pieces into burlap sacks.
"So, there I was, on the floor of that tavern, covered in ale. They dipped me into a barrel of the stuff, and I thought I was going to drown. But then Ruth comes up behind those louts and kicks 'em right in the-"
Brom faltered with his story when the ground began to tremble with a screech. Roche's inkblood instantly began to course through her in warning.
Brom turned to her, his eyes narrowed. "Did you hear anything?" he asked, unsheathing his sword. Roche nodded.
"Sounds like some kind of animal," she told him, "It came from the end of the tunnel."
Before they could even turn to investigate, Roche's inkblood went leaden in her veins with warning. She nearly toppled over. Brom's brows came together.
"What-" he didn't get the chance to finish before the other end of the tunnel opened with a loud grate and the ground began to rumble.
"Get behind me, quickly!" Brom shouted to Roche, standing in front of her with his sword at the ready. Another screech echoed down the hall. The beast rounded the corner, and Roche's breath eddied from her lungs.
The creature was tall- why did they always have to be tall? Why couldn't there be a short fireant that had inkblood, for once? But alas, the creature was tall. It towered over Brom easily, at least two feet taller. It had the thick musculature of a lion, and had the same feline grace as one too. It prowled forward, feathers sticking out of its neck like a mane. The feathers trailed down its body, a beautiful blend of white, grey, beige, and ebony. The ebony feathers troubled Roche the most.
They pulsed with inkblood.
"Oh, come on," she mumbled, rallying her inkblood. The Council hadn't sent any attacks after Tigris in ages, and Roche surmised that the break was over.
The feathers around the creature's face parted, revealing a thick, dark beak with little, pointy, needle-like teeth that instantly crystallised her blood with fear.
The feather's of its face ruffled again, revealing two sparkling green eyes. Roche's breath rushed out of her like she'd been kicked in the chest.
Its eyes were the exact same shade as Finn's.
"What is that?" Brom hissed.
Roche racked her mind for a beast that could match the sound, but came up empty. "I don't know."
The creature blinked at them curiously for a moment, complacent and still like it hadn't been charging down the hall on its four feathered limbs moments ago.
Brom tightened his grip on his sword, even as his face relaxed. "Hey, maybe it's frie-"
The creature didn't seem to like that. With a deafening screech, it lunged forward. Brom shouted, slicing upwards with his sword. The blade skimmed off the inkblood feathers and sliced through the normal ones, showering him and Roche in a shower of ink and feathers.
He stumbled back, pushing Roche behind him. "Go!" he shouted, "Get out of the tunnel."
She wasn't going to leave him here.
Brom pressed forward, leaping to the side as the creature charged him. Its eyes glinted knowingly and it turned, pressing him against the wall. The knight's eyes widened with fear.
Roche watched the creature's beak part open. The needle-like teeth expanded into thick fangs dripping with inkblood.
Roche lifted her hand as Brom shouted, trying to stab its invulnerable plumage.
Hwonite, she incanted silently, trying to move the creature out of the way. She felt her inkblood hurtle towards the creature and wrap around its feathers invisibly. It squawked and screeched in annoyance, leaving Roche's ears ringing as her inkblood yanked on its large body.
And promptly disappeared.
Confusion and panic wove through Roche as the beast whirled on her. She could have sworn it was smirked.
"Hwonite," she whispered aloud as it began to charge at her. Her inkblood touched its plumage, and Roche felt the inkblood feathers pushed back against her enchantment, breaking it apart with its own inkblood like a wave scattering grains of sand.
She hadn't even known that was possible.
"Roche!" Brom shouted in warning as the beast continued its full sprint towards her. She remained frozen, feeding all of her strength into her next incantation.
"Aukret!" she incanted, the words coming out strangled with panic, like a curse. The blast was so strong that it rocked her body as it came out. Instantly, her nose began to trickle with blood, leaving her weakened and leaning against the wall.
She could only watch in horror as the blast was completely unwoven, torn apart by the creature's inkblood.
It was powerful.
More powerful than Roche.
It was nearly upon her. She had no other ideas left to try. She backed up until she was pressed against the wall, watching those expanding teeth come closer. She screamed, preparing for the bite of a hundred fangs when the creature was promptly body slammed to the side by none other than Brom. He popped to his feet quickly, somehow managing to wrestle the creature onto its back. He dodged a swipe of its claws before stabbing his blade downwards.
The sword tip barely penetrated the beast's underbelly by an inch when it roared, a powerful blast of inkblood throwing the knight and his sword back.
Brom slammed into the tunnel wall, the stone fissuring behind him. His eyes fluttered shut as the creature bellowed, inkblood pouring from its cut. With an agonised wail, the beast charged down the hall.
Towards the halls filled with people.
Horror filled Roche. She sprinted after the creature, tossing out enchantment after enchantment, even when the world began to tilt to the side with her exhaustion. Nothing slowed it. As a last resort, Roche squeaked out a blast of inkblood to collapse the tunnel exit. She heard alarmed shouts beyond in the solitary halls.
That didn't stop the beast. It ran straight through the collapsed rubble. By the time Roche had made it to the mouth of the tunnel, the damage had been done. Bodies were strewn throughout the halls, blood smearing the ground. She gaped at the damage with a sick lurch of her stomach, cataloguing the servants and guards who still screamed and ran around. Her eyes drifted to the corner of the room where she saw Bart tucked there, his face pale and gaunt with terror, clutching his bloodied statue in his hand.
He met her eyes, his lips white with fear. Roche leaned to the side, her head spinning as she wondered what the hell had just happened.
-------
"Twelve dead. At least fifty injured," Brom read the report, his head wrapped in bandages. The numbers felt like daggers to Roche's chest. She should have stopped the creature. She'd tried to. How strong was this beast, and why hadn't her inkblood worked against it?"
Tigris stood at the front of the throne room, her crown glinting brightly. She paced, concern and grief lining her face.
"A feathered, inkblooded lion with a bird's face?" she murmured in disbelief, "And it's invulnerable to all attacks?"
Brom shifted uncomfortably. "My lady... it also had your brother's eyes."
Tigris' face twisted with disgust. "Surely you're not suggesting that he..."
"Of course not!" Brom grimaced with revulsion, "But it does seem like he might have been involved in its creation."
The room seemed to still. Tigris straightened regally even as pain crept into her eyes.
"So I suppose we should assume that he and his supposed Council are involved," she mused, her fingers tapping the hilt of her sword, "And that this is a threat that must be dealt with immediately. What do we know about this creature?"
Verita stepped forward. Roche's breath hitched when she noticed that Verita seemed anxious. The librarian was shifting from food to foot, her face pallid.
"Based on my remaining records, it's a griffin, my lady," Verita announced, "A creature of inkblood that must be summoned by powerful inkbloods."
Tigris' brows furrowed. She addressed her advisors, a group of her trusted knights and nobles, as well as her father's counsel. "And Finn was capable of summoning it?" she said, exchanging a dreading look with Aodh.
One of Romulus' court coughed. "My lady. Surely this proves that we must search for the rogue prince immediately! His intimate knowledge of the castle and the library have empowered him."
Tigris raised her hand patiently. "I am well aware of the threat my brother poses, Lord Ibra," she answered, "We've sent out dozens of patrols in search of him. If Finn could have been found by now, then he would be."
Lord Ibra scoffed, flicking his scanty chestnut hair back. "Surely the finest army in the world can find a rogue, traitorous inkblood," he said snidely, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly at Tigris, "It's almost like we haven't been trying as hard as we could be."
Roche gritted her teeth as murmurs flooded the hall. Romulus' old court had never been a fan of Tigris as their heir. With Finn gone and Romulus bedridden, they were forced under Tigris' command and none of them liked it.
The princess' cheeks reddened ever so slightly, but she maintained her composure well, even as pointed looks were shot towards her. She flashed the lord a smile that was more teeth than anything.
"I assure you, Lord Ibra," Tigris said coolly, "Every effort is being taken to find Prince Finnegan. However, our search efforts must not be the focus of today's meeting. We must turn our attention to the threat at hand, the griffin." Tigris maneuvered the conversation with ease, turning away from Ibra dismissively. The man fumed as Tigris didn't spare him a glance, "Verita, how can this creature be destroyed?"
The librarian chewed her lip. "The griffin is a powerful creature. Steel will do very little against it. Even an enchanted blade would do very little damage. It would take remarkable luck to even land a blow, much less a killing blow." She said this with a meaningful look at Roche, whose heart sank at the words. So Tigris and her enchanted sword weren't safe from this threat.
Tigris made a disgruntled sound. "So blades will not work?"
"No," Verita replied, hesitating before she added, "It can only be defeated by a powerful inkblood, my lady."
Immediately, the court erupted with offended chatter. Roche's inkblood pulsed in her veins. Why hadn't her inkblood worked against the creature?
Tigris raised her hands, calling for silence before she turned to Verita again with a troubled expression. "We cannot resort to inkblood."
Verita looked away awkwardly. "I'm afraid that if you wish to prevent another attack like this, you must. Just as your father did once."
Aodh and Tigris' face smoothed over into blankness as shouts echoed from Romulus' court.
"Blasphemy!" one of the nobles squawked, "Our king would never! She has let ink flood her mind as well!"
Leinos stepped up beside Verita, casting the outraged nobles a harsh look. "Do you all not remember how King Romulus hunted the Strigae?" he shouted over the din. The eldest of the court immediately quieted, and the rest of the nobles did as well at their reaction.
Tigris' brows furrowed deeply. She nodded at the elderly duo. "Please, continue." she prompted.
Verita nodded tightly. "The Strigae were a group of inkblooded creatures nearly as powerful as the griffin. They fought against your father's inkblood ban vehemently, as did many inkblooded creatures. When it became clear to your father that regular blades would not work against them, he called upon several loyal inkbloods to assist him."
One of the younger nobles scoffed. "A loyal inkblood?" he sneered, "No such thing exists."
I guess I'm not here, then. Roche thought sourly. Verita pointedly ignored her gaze, dipping her head obediently.
"Normally that would be King Romulus' opinion as well, yes. However, not just any inkblood can control these beasts. There are a subset of inkbloods born into their abilities who have had their inkblood passed from family line to family line. They are called whispers."
Murmurs spread throughout the court. Tigris and Aodh exchanged a glance.
"I've never heard of them," Aodh said tentatively.
Verita cast him a bland look. "Probably because the king ordered their execution once the Strigae were contained."
A silence descended on the court. Aodh shifted uncomfortably as the nobles began to murmur to one another.
Tigris, on the other hand, kept her face still and impassive. She raised her brows at Verita inquisitively. "So there are no whispers left?" she asked, "None that could tame this beast?"
"There are none on record, my lady," Verita answered smoothly. Most of the nobles accepted the words and relaxed, their outrage fading. But Roche noticed the librarian glancing at Leinos surreptitiously. Leinos paled ever so slightly, barely visible by anyone who wasn't nearby. The silent exchange lasted less than a second, but it didn't go unnoticed by Roche. She watched in confusion. She wasn't the only one who noticed either.
Tigris' brows lowered infinitesimally at the two castle elders. Her eyes flicked between them and the court for a moment before she leaned back on her heels. Roche felt dread sinking into her stomach as she noticed a calculating gleam in the princess' eyes, one that she only saw before a particularly difficult court session.
"Ah, that's for the best," Tigris drawled, lacing her hands behind her back gracefully as her eyes lingered on Verita, "My father would consider rogue inkbloods a threat to the kingdom, especially those powerful enough to be born into their abilities."
"Indeed, my lady," Verita answered blandly, her face impressively stony.
Tigris' jaw ticked ever so slightly, and Roche realised that the princess was trying to press extra information from the librarian without tipping off the rest of her court. Her eyes traced Verita's face carefully before sweeping over the court.
"Very well," Tigris announced, a somewhat forced mischievous smile splaying across her features as she gazed out towards her court, "I suppose we'll have to defeat this griffin the hard way. Let's try our Faultless steel and fighting. Sir Harold, organise the troops. Where was the creature last spotted?"
Roche tuned out the rest of the conversation, her eyes darting to Verita. A small shock shot through her as she realised the librarian was staring right at her, her face wrinkled with worry. Verita's lips crimped, her eyes flicking between her and the door. It was a clear message; Roche needed to go to her as soon as possible.
A hand clamped on Roche's shoulder and she realised that the nobles were filtering out of the throne room. The session was over. Verita shot her another look warning her to hightail it to the library before she exited, Leinos in tow.
The hand on her shoulder tightened. Roche turned, raising her brow. Aodh watched Verita leaving with an anxious curl of his lips.
"Has Verita ever told you anything about the griffin? Or whispers?" he asked, his voice oddly tense.
Roche shook her head uneasily. "No. Why?"
"No reason," he murmured, his eyes lingering on the doors that Verita had disappeared through, "It just felt like there was something more she wasn't saying."
There was a lot Verita wouldn't tell the Silvias. Especially if it was related to inkblood. Or Roche.
"I'll ask her for details if I see her," Roche promised. Aodh flashed her a small smile. The new agreement between them was tense. They were both used to edging around each other with barely concealed contempt. They'd reached a shaky kind of peace that seemed almost too good to be true.
"Roche!" Tigris called, stalking over. Her long locks, carefully styled, streamed behind her lusciously as she walked. She planted her hands on her hips, glaring at her maid. "Would you like to tell me why half of the survivors of the latest attack say that you were off collecting rocks?"
Roche blanched. "Princess, I was with Brom!"
Tigris' eyes flattened and she held out a small rucksack, holding it out towards Roche. She unceremoniously dumped it to the ground.
The statue she'd given Bart tumbled out, as well as a few other stones she'd given his friends.
Aodh smirked. "Really?" he repeated, his voice tinged with amusement, "You actually shirked off your duties to go collect rocks?"
Roche gritted her teeth. "They're very nice rocks."
"Right," Tigris said dryly, "So nice that half of the serving boys who were supposed to be in the tunnels working were off finding interesting rocks." The princess' amusement wore off, and she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Granted, that did save their lives , but it made it a hell of a lot harder to track alibis."
"Sorry," Roche mumbled, "But they're just kids. I'm certain they aren't in the league with the Council." Or Finn.
Tigris grimaced. "Well, nothing's certain anymore. Just... don't let your rock obsession spread, or I'll have to lock you in the dungeons."
"I bet she'll just find more rocks if you lock her in the dungeons," Aodh pointed out as Roche scowled.
She smiled up at him. Perhaps their new alliance would come in handy. "Thank you, Prince Aodh."
"Perhaps you should send her out to clean my chambers again," he continued with a wicked smile.
Or maybe not.
Roche glared at him. "Hey!"
"Enough," Tigris sighed, looking tired, "Roche, we have things to do. Aodh, can you check in with Sir Harold? Make sure the patrols are ready. If the griffin made it in through the tunnels then we have to be careful. It could attack virtually any part of the castle."
All of the mirth seemed to be sucked out of the air. Aodh nodded solemnly, jogging off after the head knight. Roche's thoughts returned to Verita.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to just have knights defending the castle?" she asked Tigris hesitantly, "Verita seemed pretty sure that swords wouldn't do a thing against the griffin."
Tigris sighed, striding down the halls of the castle. "Verita's been wrong before," she pointed out, "Remember the Atrex?"
Roche had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "That was different." she said as casually as she could, "Verita seems sure-"
"Roche, I appreciate the concern but leave the battles to the warriors. Meanwhile, I need you to round up every servant that you distracted with your weird rocks and organise their shifts." Tigris interrupted with a triumphant twist of her lips.
Roche scowled. Arrogant brat. "But-"
"Go," Tigris ordered.
Roche sighed, hoping that Tigris wouldn't regret her overconfidence in Faultless steel.
-------
The griffin attacked again at night.
And the night after that.
Then at midday.
There was no rhyme or reason to the fighting. The attacks occurred within the castle and outside of them, leaving dead and dying behind. The infirmary was filled to the brim. Between helping Leinos and rushing after Tigris' emergency meetings with her court, Roche barely had any time to herself. For a full week, she and Verita only had time to exchange greetings in the mornings. At night, Verita was either busy or asleep by the time Roche returned home.
A steady tide of anxiety built within Roche as the days passed. She noticed Verita looking more haggard. Each time they spoke, the librarian seemed to hesitate. Roche wanted to ask what had Verita so on edge and ask for more details about the griffin, but she never had the time.
It was only on the seventh day of the griffin's rampage after a significant chunk of Tigris' best warriors had been injured by the attack, that Roche finally saw her guardian for more than five minutes at a court session.
Tigris stood at the front of the room, noticeably fatigued and worried. She glanced out amongst her court.
"We have exhausted every fighting tactic we can manage," Sir Harold was reporting. He sported an impressive gash on his forehead, and his leg was splinted. He'd come straight out of one of the attacks. "Our blades have had no impact. The creature truly is invulnerable."
Gasps and murmurs rang out. Tigris' eyes were clouded with worry.
"And our firearms?"
"Equally ineffective," Aodh answered quietly, shooting his sister a knowing look, "Nothing's worked."
Tigris pressed her lips together. "So it seems that Verita was correct," she noted, turning her gaze towards the librarian. "Verita, have you found anything else about the vulnerabilities of the griffin?"
Verita was rigid, her spine ramrod straight. "No, my lady," Verita answered, "All texts point to whispers being used in the past to command the beasts to yield."
"Command?" Aodh repeated, his brows furrowing.
Verita nodded. "Whispers had an unusual relationship with their inkblood since they were born into it. They didn't have a drop of regular blood in their veins, only ink. It allows them a deeper connection with inkblood and all its creatures. This power allows them to command any inkblood creature to do their bidding."
Tigris' forehead wrinkled with concern. "They sound powerful. And dangerous."
"They were," Verita conceded, "However, the ability was rather rare. King Romulus was able to kill their line easily, inkblood and all."
"Thank heavens for that," one of the nobles muttered, "Imagine having to deal with an all powerful inkblood on top of a griffin."
Roche kept her face neutral as agreeing murmurs rippled throughout the court. Tigris held Verita's gaze for a moment. The librarian shifted uncomfortably, and something seemed to flash in Tigris' eyes. Roche watched the exchange in confusion, feeling terribly out of the loop.
"Well," Tigris said, her voice falsely light, "I suppose we must seek other options. Have we tried crossbows?"
On and on the meeting stretched. Eventually, Tigris had convinced the knights that they needed to regroup and find more answers. She and Aodh persuaded the court to allow for a curfew and a lockdown of the castle. Both the upper and lower towns would shelter within, guarded by the remaining knights.
Roche watched in fascination as the royals worked their persuasive magic, absolutely baffled. It wasn't like Tigris to shy away from a fight. To make matters stranger, Tigris and Aodh's eyes kept flicking towards Verita and Leinos, both of whom seemed equally shifty.
It was like a strange showdown was occurring between them. Roche couldn't understand what had them so on edge.
"I plan on taking an excursion towards the borders to see if these inkblood beasts have been sighted anywhere else, as well as to discuss trade with the head of the merchant's guild in Irulia," Tigris said offhandedly as the meeting ended.
Sir Harold's brow furrowed. "My lady, are you sure that it is safe for you to do so?" he asked.
"Or cowardly?" a noble muttered under his breath. The court tittered. Tigris took a noticeably deep breath, her cheeks reddening slightly.
Aodh's expression grew murderous at the disrespect. He stepped forward, but Tigris held out her hand calmly. She didn't rise to the jibe. Instead, she nodded at Sir Harold.
"I'm afraid it is necessary. The message I received from the Irulian elders was urgent." she answered, holding the knight's gaze. "In fact, I'd like to discuss the security of the journey with you after the meeting, if you'd be inclined to stay."
Sir Harold's eyes flashed with understanding. He nodded, stepping back complacently.
Alarm bells were ringing in Roche's head. She knew that Tigris would never step away from the castle during a time like this. Besides, Roche couldn't recall Tigris ever mentioning any correspondence from Irulia recently.
Tigris dismissed the court quickly, her voice rising above the din of the nobles rushing out to make their arrangements. "Oh, Verita and Leinos, I'd like your advice as well."
Suspicion rose in Roche's chest. She edged closer to Tigris, who watched the crowd thinning with a placid expression. Roche could see a glint in the woman's eyes that was mirrored in Aodh's. They both were up to something.
The moment the last noble left, Tigris' calm mask dropped, revealing a steely expression beneath. She glanced at Roche.
"Close the doors," she ordered. Roche hurried to do so, passing Verita and Leinos who looked equally confused. They all crowded around the princess.
Verita dipped into a curtsy. "My lady, you called for us?"
"I did," Tigris said, pacing the grounds, "Are you certain that the griffin cannot be defeated by anything but a whisper?"
Verita nodded, her eyes shuttering defensively. "Yes, my lady."
"And there are no other whispers?" Aodh pressed, standing tall beside Tigris. His face was passive, giving away nothing.
"That is what your father ensured, my lady," Verita replied.
Tigris nodded, her eyes cunning and sharp. "What is it you aren't telling me?"
"My lady?" Verita blinked. Tigris smiled at her, but there was no mirth in the motion.
"Verita, I've known you and Leinos since I was old enough to place names to faces. And Leinos looks one moment away from falling over. There is something you aren't telling me, and for the sake of my people I must know what it is." Tigris explained.
Roche glanced over and sure enough, Leinos was as pale as a ghost, sputtering defensively. Verita glared at her ex-husband.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about, my lady," she answered diplomatically.
"Verita, please," Tigris replied, her mask falling away to reveal genuine desperation, "People are dying. If there's anything that can be done to stop the griffin, we need to know."
Verita bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She glanced at Roche, her bun bobbing through the air like a lifeboat on the open sea. She held Roche's eyes with a solemnity Roche had never seen before.
"Anything?" the librarian repeated, her voice dark with the implications.
Tigris hesitated for a beat, glancing at Aodh before she nodded. When Verita's eyebrows shot up in surprise, she added, "My father's court would not look kindly upon me for considering a whisper after all that has occurred. The relationship between the new and old court is tenuous, and unfortunately I cannot risk defying their wishes openly. Whatever you say here, Verita, will be kept private."
Verita lifted a brow. "Forgive my forwardness then, my lady, but is your court in charge, or you?"
The words were said sternly but not cruelly, like Verita was chiding the princess. To Roche's surprise, Tigris didn't seem angry at the words, but merely weary.
"I cannot remove my father's appointed court while he is still alive. It would seem too much like a coup, and the kingdom cannot handle that instability. I'm afraid that until they begin to trust me more, this is the solution," Tigris replied, her eyes narrowing, "But that is neither here nor there. Do you have anything we can use to stop the griffin, Verita?"
The librarian glanced at Leinos, whose brows came together in concern. A silent conversation passed between them before Verita turned back to Tigris with slumped shoulders.
"There is not anything that can help you, my lady," Verita answered slowly, "But... there is someone."
Instantly, the room was alight with shocked looks from Aodh, Tigris, and Sir Harold.
"A whisper?" Tigris asked.
Verita nodded, her lips pressing together like she was bracing herself. "Yes, my lady. Rumours say that he evaded your father and has been hiding."
"Those are just rumours, though," Aodh pointed out, his eyes narrowing, "We cannot leave the kingdom defenseless for mere rumours."
Verita glanced at Leinos again before she meekly announced, "It's not a rumour, my lord. Leinos and I... we saw him escape ourselves."
The words seemed to suck the air out of the room. Tigris' jaw dropped as her eyes darted between the guilty looking castle elders.
"You hid that from my father?" Tigris breathed out, her eyes sharpening with conflict when Verita nodded, "Why?"
"We didn't do anything treasonous, my lady," Leinos hurried to explain, "This whisper was sworn loyal to the kingdom. He didn't have any ill intentions. In fact, he left on a private expedition before your father ordered the execution of all the whispers. He just never returned to the kingdom. Seeing as he didn't pose a threat, Verita and I just never mentioned his disappearance to the king. We assumed he had died."
"Until a few years ago," Verita continued on, wringing her hands, "During an exchange with a book dealer of mine, I received word that a powerful inkblood had been sighted in the woods near Irulia. He matched the description of the whisper who had left many years ago and we knew he was still alive."
"Why didn't you mention this to the king?" Sir Harold asked sharply. Roche held her breath at the hostility pointed towards the two elders. Betrayal and secrets were not well liked in the castle, especially not after Finn's treason.
Leinos winced. "The location was too close to Irulia's border. At the time, tensions were high with Irulia. Your father would have sent troops there to apprehend the whisper and that could have sparked war. Seeing as the whisper hadn't attacked in the many years he's been free... we figured it would be better left unsaid."
"Keep in mind," Verita added into the deafening silence, "It could very well not be the whisper."
"But you think that it is?" Tigris asked, her words carefully measured. Roche could see a myriad of emotions in the princess' expression, but the main one was hope.
Verita nodded hesitantly. "The description was exactly what we remembered."
Tigris glanced at the two elders for a moment before she turned to Aodh. "It is as we expected, then."
"Indeed," Aodh murmured, rubbing his chin, "So, we have a whisper to find."
Verita and Leinos exchanged nervous glances. Verita cleared her throat, concern bubbling in her features, "My lady, what do you plan on doing?"
Tigris began to pace slowly around the dais. "Well, I'll be heading out for my 'meeting with the Irulian elders'," she said dryly, "And hopefully we'll find the whisper along the way."
"My lady, that's far too dangerous," Sir Harold interrupted, limping forward with his splinted leg, "And not just because of the griffin. Who knows how many of those inkblood creatures are around? Not to mention that this whisper might not be friendly."
"That's why I'll be going with her," Aodh said confidently. Tigris elbowed him.
"No, you idiot. We've talked about this. You're staying here and watching over the castle while I'm gone. The nobles will listen to you, and we're not leaving the castle without an heir to the throne in case I don't make it back."
The words seemed to trouble Sir Harold more. "My lady, as your Head Knight, I must insist that you take a few knights with you. I'll come."
Tigris' eyes softened. "I appreciate your loyalty, my friend, but you're injured. Besides, I can't risk the truth about my excursion being leaked to the rest of the court." she forced a smile to her face, "Besides, I can hold my own in a fight."
Sir Harold's brows came together with worry. "Perhaps take Lady Ivie, Sir Brom, and Lady Ruth with you, then," he pleaded, "There are no knights more loyal and trusted."
Aodh nodded, nudging Tigris insistently. "I agree. You shouldn't be going alone, Tigris. It's not safe."
"Fine," Tigris sighed, "I'll take Ivie with me."
"Not Brom or Ruth?" Aodh pressed. Tigris shook her head.
"Brom's still injured from his encounter with the griffin. Besides, I need as many knights here as possible, defending the people," Tigris scowled when Aodh and Sir Harold watched her with unimpressed looks, "Just be glad I'm taking anyone other than Roche with me."
Aodh snorted. "Oh yeah. Roche is going to do you a lot of good if a griffin comes swooping at your head." he scoffed.
"May we be excused, my lady?" Verita interrupted tightly as Tigris cuffed Aodh on the head, "I'll need to brief Roche about everything we know about the griffin and whisper in preparation for your journey."
There was something strained to Verita's voice that instantly made Roche alert. Tigris didn't seem to notice. She was too busy wrestling Aodh, Sir Harold watching them both with concern.
"Of course, Verita. Roche, we'll ride in two hours, be ready." Tigris called over her shoulder as she bodyslammed Aodh against the throne. Roche snickered at the prince's winded expression, but Verita didn't let her stick around. The librarian firmly grabbed Roche by the shoulders and tugged her out of the throne room. Roche's worry and curiosity only intensified as Verita leaned in and hissed,
"Don't say a word, Roche. Not until we reach the library."
The walk back to their chambers seemed extra long and short all at once. She didn't notice that Leinos had tagged along until Verita was locking the doors to the library behind them, her face tense with anxiety.
Verita checked the locks on the doors twice. Thrice. Then she herded Roche into their chambers and did the same. Leinos puttered around, all but shoving Roche onto a free bench.
"What's going on?" Roche asked, concern growing within her, edging out her curiosity as the physician stood in front of her silently, peering at her with a worried expression. "Are you two alright?"
"We're fine, Roche," Leinos said quietly, glancing over his shoulder, "Vee, it's locked and no one's in the shelves. You've checked already."
"I know!" Verita called back from the door, fumbling with the thick locks again, "Can't be too sure."
"Why?" Roche pressed, "What's wrong?"
Verita padded over, her face wrinkled. Roche noticed how incredibly tired the librarian looked in that moment. Verita's eyes were red and shadowed. She was slightly hunched forward, like her age had made itself known.
"Verita," Roche murmured, "What is it?"
The librarian pulled out another bench, easing herself onto it next to Leinos. She leaned forward, meeting Roche's eyes with a tender, almost cautious, air.
"It's about the whisper," Verita said slowly, wringing her fingers slowly, "I'm afraid we weren't entirely truthful with Tigris."
Alarm shot through Roche. "Is she in danger?" she asked, nearly jumping to her feet. Verita held out her hands, stopping Roche from doing just that.
"No, not at all," Verita immediately replied, easing the tension from Roche's shoulders, "However... the whisper didn't flee the city on his own. We helped him escape."
Roche's mind spun. "What?" she asked, glancing at Leinos. The physician stared back at her resolutely, with none of his usual fear of lying. Roche felt unease spread within her. "Why would you lie about that?"
"Because we weren't the only ones to help him escape," Leinos said quietly. He leaned forward, lacing his hands together in front of him, "Verita told me that you know the truth of the queen's death."
The words were utterly unexpected. Roche frowned. "I do."
"Well, then you know that Romulus' inkblood ban was completely unjust," Leinos continued. He glanced at Verita, who nodded slightly and he added, "Which I and many others pointed out. Romulus burned his dissenters at the pyre. I was lucky that Verita still had his ear and was able to talk him down from burning me."
Roche's heart shattered for the old man, whose hands trembled slightly as he placed his hands on his lap. "I'm so sorry, Leinos."
"Don't be," he replied, meeting her gaze slowly, "But that close call was the wake up call we needed. After he nearly burned me, we realised there would be no reasoning with the king. We, and many other protesters of the ban, decided to take a more silent approach to saving inkbloods that involved evacuating all known inkbloods from the city without the king's notice."
Verita cleared her throat slightly, sounding slightly choked as she took over the story. "Since we were so close to the king, we were under heavy supervision. There wasn't much we could do to assist the efforts that were frequently being uncovered by the king. That was, until, Romulus decided to execute the whispers. He detained them and kept them in the dungeons with rubber lined cells before the public executions."
Verita's voice choked off with horror for a moment. Roche could only watch, enraptured by the story. Verita gathered herself.
"He wanted to make it a spectacle. We only had the resources to save one of them from execution. One of the whispers he'd detained was a close friend of ours. We couldn't stand by and see him killed."
"You helped him escape," Roche realised. Verita nodded.
"It was easy enough. I still had some sway with the king. I stole his keys and released the whisper from the dungeons and led him to the forest. We sent letters to another friend of ours, one who'd stayed in the city and had fled back to Irulia upon the queen's death, when the violence in the city grew overwhelming."
Time seemed to slow around Roche as her mind fitted the pieces of the story together. The concerned, guarded looks from Verita and Leinos. A powerful inkblood. Irulia.
The ground seemed to disappear beneath her feet. Roche pitched forward, gaping.
"No way,"
Verita nodded, her eyes blooming with a rush of emotion. "Elena, your mother, decided to house him for us. For a few weeks, she hid him in Irulia, where inkblood was still legal."
Roche's mind whited out for a moment. "She... she what?"
Leinos lips crimped with worry. "This is a lot to process, I know," he said gently, leaning forward to clasp her shoulder. Roche pulled away, her eyes burning.
"Tell me the rest," she pleaded, even though she had a sinking suspicion how the story was going to end.
Verita obliged. "After a few more months, Irulia lost the war with the Faultless Kingdom. It wasn't safe for the whisper there anymore. He fled back into the forests of the Faultless Kingdom. We never heard from him again."
Leinos stood then, moving to Roche's side. His eyes were kind and wide with concern. "We did, however, hear from your mother," he said softly, "She said that she was pregnant. With you."
Roche was barely hearing their voices now. A tinny ringing sound had filled her ears, nearly drowning out Verita's words.
"The whisper's name is Ikaros. And he is your father."
Roche couldn't do anything but stare, a swell of emotions rising within her like a tidal wave. She glanced between the two castle elders, her jaw working with a multitude of words.
"My father is still alive?" she whispered after several long moments.
Verita nodded, her eyes pitying and gentle all at once. "He is. And I know this is a bit much-"
"A bit much," Roche repeated, a mirthless laugh bubbling out of her, "You knew where my father was all this time, and you didn't think to tell me?"
Verita recoiled, unease fluttering across her face. The sight enraged Roche.
"Do you have any idea what that bastard did to my mother?" she seethed, rising to her feet.
Leinos and Verita exchanged a confused look. "What do you think he did?"
"Gee, let me think," Roche said dryly, "He abandoned her, alone and pregnant. She went after him, once, did you know?"
Verita's eyes rounded. "Elena never told us-"
"Never told you that she came home with bruises that day?" Roche said coldly, rage making her thoughts evaporate, "Never told you that she wept for his help at night when she was shamed by the entire village for being a whore? Never told you that she sent letter after letter out after him?"
"Roche," Leinos said pleadingly, "I'm sorry, we didn't know."
"Of course you didn't!" Roche snapped, every muscle coiled with fury, "Because you didn't tell me."
Her inkblood frothed to life with her rage, making her burn from the inside out. Verita held out her hands placatingly.
"Your mother told us not to tell you," the librarian explained. Roche's jaw clenched.
"Not good enough," she hissed, "You have no idea what she went through because of him!"
Verita lowered her hands slowly, eyes locking with Roche. "We also didn't tell you," the librarian said slowly, "Because it would mean telling you the truth about your inkblood."
The words swirled around Roche's mind, refusing to make sense. Verita stood slowly so that she was eye level with Roche.
"When your mother went into labour, she was alone," the librarian explained, "Alone and afraid. Your father had told her that being a whisper was a hereditary trait."
Shock rolled through, crushing her fury into dust.
"Your mother feared that you would be born with inkblood running in your veins, and only inkblood. She couldn't explain this to any midwife or physician. So she came to us the night you were due, in labour and desperate for help."
Roche's pulse pounded in her ear. Her mouth was too dry. She was going to pass out.
Leinos tugged her back down the bench by the elbow. Verita kneeled in front of her, continuing the story.
"She begged us for a way to bind or hide your inkblood."
"You didn't," Roche said, her voice gravelly with disbelief, "Tell me you didn't."
Verita's eyes shone with damning guilt. She reached forward, gently pushing back Roche's sleeves. Leinos held his withered hand over Roche's bare forearm.
"Allethaire qui mon blantros printa," he whispered. Ebony light gleamed from his baggy sleeves. Roche's heart damn near stopped as inkblood flowed from the physician's fingers, coating Roche's skin gently. Her arm began to tingle, her inkblood bubbling to the surface. Slowly, painfully slowly, Leinos' inkblood mingled with hers, curving into thick symbols that swirled with power. Beneath them, for the first time, Roche could see thick veins of her inkblood pulsing. It was only for a moment before the veins faded into invisibility again. The symbols, however, remained on her skin.
"Runes," she realised, tracing the embellished swirls with her fingertips.
Leinos nodded. "I put these on you on the day you were born, before you had been separated from your mother. The enchantment had never been done before, and we weren't sure if it would work."
"Your mother was desperate," Verita said when Roche remained silent, stewing in a myriad of emotions, "She told us to do anything we could. The enchantment bound your inkblood's abilities. It turned part of it red and thin, like blood."
Roche' head spun. Blood didn't flow through her veins at all. It was all inkblood.
"For several years, your mother wrote to us in coded messages. All was well. We thought your inkblood would never surface," Verita explained, the words coming out in a rush, "The letters died off. We thought it was because you were safe. But then you showed up here in the city. And your mother's letter explained that your inkblood had surfaced minimally. She wanted us to ensure that nothing was wrong with the enchantment, and to help you control the inkblood to the best of your abilities."
Verita stood then, her bones creaking loudly. She crossed the room pulling out a folded slip of paper from a stack of books. She handed it to Roche, who didn't need to unfold it to know what it was.
It was the letter her mother had given her all those years ago.
Not all the words in the world are meant for you. Her mother had chided. Her mother who had bound her inkblood. Her mother who had kept this from her.
Roche lifted her gaze, the letter becoming crumpled in her hands.
"You should have told me," she gritted out, wobbling to her feet, "You've spent all these years with me and you didn't tell me."
"Roche-"
"Four. Years," her voice trembled with her rage, "Four years you had to tell me."
Verita's eyes were pained. "I'm sorry, Roche."
A fire burned within Roche, growing with every moment. They'd tried restraining her inkblood, her beautiful inkblood. As if she needed the reminder, her inkblood flooded into her palm invisibly, shifting like an open flame. Leinos, Leinos who had inkblood as well, watched with a mix of sympathy and apprehension that made Roche's blood boil.
"So," Roche heaved a breath, tamping down a fresh surge of fury, "I'm a whisper."
"You were a whisper," Verita answered nervously, "Now... we aren't sure. The abilities that are typical of a whisper never spawned within you."
Right. Because that's what Roche was and would always be. An anomaly. Now she knew that she'd been made that way.
Roche closed her fist, smothering the invisible inkblood flames. "Right. Because you locked away my inkblood and never told me."
Verita winced, reaching out. "Roche-"
Roche stood up. She knew that if she stayed, she would only grow more furious and bitter. She stared at the two castle elders coldly, a small vindictive part of her feeling gleeful when then flinched at her icy stare.
The rest of her just felt numb with betrayal.
"I have to ready Tigris for the journey," she said, each word carefully controlled, "Is there anything else I should know?"
"Roche-" Verita tried pleading, but Leinoa shook his head at her tightly, warning the librarian not to say anything else.
"That's all, Roche. We swear." he answered.
Without another word, Roche turned on her heel and stormed out of the library.
A/N: Woah this chapter is LONG! I might have to let this one sit for a few days before I post again. There is a lot to unpack in this chapter LOL. Was Roche's whisper heritage too obvious? And what do you all think about her inkblood being restrained? Roche's relationship with her inkblood seems to be a bit of a love-hate kind of relationship. To me, it seems like she likes having inkblood and finds it beautiful and majestic, but she hates the threat that comes with having it :D. How do you see it?
As always, happy reading!