The Shadows Have No Face || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Tower of Death

-Authors Note-

There is a slight gore warning for the second half of this chapter, a warning for language, and a warning for a lot of insects. If you don't think you can read this chapter, that's okay! If there are any questions, don't be afraid to ask them. 

Enjoy the chapter!

We winnowed as far as possible before Mor collapsed and dropped us in the middle of the desert. She had already brought Azriel, who was waiting silently and patiently for us.

"This is as far as we can go," Mor said. "How long of a walk is it?"

"Half a day, at most," I answered. I remembered this land like it was branded into my skin. When young, they had us memorize the locations of strategically placed boulders in order to find our way through the wasteland if ever lost. It was something I never let myself forget—though I wanted to.

"How do you know this place?" The Spymaster inquired as we walked. I assumed it was to fill the awkward silence.

"Do you want the honest truth or the easy lie?"

"Honesty is what allows the growth of trust."

The sun was already beating down from above, and I sighed. "I do not trust you with my secrets, Spymaster. I don't know you well enough to tell them with the confidence that you will keep them as hidden as I have. Perhaps one day, though, I can share them with you—as you might with me."

"I get it, you don't trust us," Mor said, tripping on a stone in her hurry to keep up. "But if it is something that could put our lives—and the lives of our family in danger, shouldn't you tell us?"

I stopped and turned to face her. "I swear on my mother's grave, my secrets will not put your lives in danger."

The Spymaster eyed me curiously, no doubt taking note of what I said.

In an attempt to change the subject, I asked, "how did all of you come to be where you are now? How did you meet?"

"You could say Rhys is the mastermind behind all our friendships," Mor said, smiling wide. "Azriel saved me from near-death at the Autumn Court border, and Cass saved me from a life of torture. Rhys beat him for it—but they eventually made up."

I looked at Azriel, waiting to hear what he had to say. I focused entirely on him. He was unreadable in the most annoying way. Anything I could catch from this would help in my attempt to figure out what on earth happened behind that mask.

"I met Rhys and Cassian when we were training in the Illyrian camp, Windhaven. We've been inseparable ever since." Though few words were spoken—there was a lot said in his eyes. So, that's where I would find his true emotion—his weak spot.

"What about you?" Mor questioned. "Why did you leave the continent to live in Prythian?"

"To escape death," I responded bluntly. "And because of opportunity. The continent may be large and full of life—but it's constantly at war with itself. All these kings and lords fight for land, and there are so many different people existing in the same space that conflict is wherever you walk."

"At least in Prythian, everything is simpler. The land is split semi-evenly to each lord, who doesn't fight for more power or land. And the people are more interesting. But that's just me."

"Do you have a favorite court? Since you moved here?" Mor asked.

"If I say anything other than the Night Court, you two will jump me," I joked. Mor grinned, and Azriel fought back a smile. "I can't say. I've not spent enough time in each to really make that decision. The Summer Court is a melting pot of people... but the Night Court—that's my home, truly."