CHAPTER 11 Wren
CHAPTER 11
Wren
‘The true weight of names can never be measured’
– Elwren Embervale’s notes and observations
W ITH F ARISSA ’ S WORDS still echoing in her mind, Wren found herself in one of the only surviving alchemy workshops in the fortress. The very one in which she had taken her first life – where she’d poisoned Osiris, the former Guild Master of Thezmarr, with her assassin’s teapot.
She could still see the pleading, choking bastard on the floor. The image comforted her. She’d taken her revenge on a man who’d been largely responsible for her eldest sister Anya’s suffering – for the hard life she’d lived, torn apart from her family. Because of Osiris and Artos, Anya had been framed as a harbinger of shadow: the Daughter of Darkness, they had called her. Well, Wren had taken up a part of that dark mantle now.
‘Is it always so...brutal?’ Thea had asked in this very room, as they’d stared at Osiris’ purple face and blood-lined teeth.
‘Only if you make it so,’ Wren had replied.
And so, the Poisoner had been born.
She’d leaned into that reputation ever since, had let it shield her from the world, had revelled in the power of it.
‘Taking a trip down memory lane?’ Audra asked as she entered the workshop, her eyes fixed on the same spot Wren’s had lingered on earlier.
‘Would you blame me?’ Wren said.
‘Revenge is a precarious path to walk...It is often said that those who seek it should dig two graves.’
Wren’s shoulders tensed, her hands curling into fists at her sides. ‘Because of him, because of all of them...I am older than Anya ever got to be, older than Sam and Ida ever were. Their lives, their futures, were stolen from them.’
‘They were,’ Audra allowed. ‘But no amount of poison will change that now.’
Wren didn’t argue. She simply thought of the box of trinkets in her possession, and how the acquisition of each one had offered her some semblance of reprieve.
As though reading her mind, Audra spoke again. ‘All that anger has to go somewhere, Elwren. To turn it inwards is to poison oneself as effectively as taking a dose of your beloved nightshade. To turn it outwards is to eventually poison the ones you care for. Either way, a path of destruction is created, and you will be at the helm.’
Wren lifted her chin in defiance. ‘So where do you suggest I direct my anger, Guild Master?’
She suppressed the urge to fidget under Audra’s gaze. Her former warden seemed to be weighing up her next words, the silence only making room for Wren’s unease to fester.
‘You spoke with Farissa?’ Audra asked at last.
‘Briefly.’
The Guild Master pulled a crumpled scroll from her pocket and held it out to Wren. ‘Then it’s time I gave you this.’
Wren took the piece of parchment and unrolled it.
Dear Elwren Embervale,
On behalf of the esteemed faculty and administration of Drevenor Academy, it is with great pleasure that I extend this letter of offer to you. Your talents in the field of alchemy and your efforts during the shadow war have been noted, as outlined in Master Farissa Tremaine’s recommendation.
In light of recent events, and after careful consideration, we invite you to join our prestigious institution. At Drevenor, you will have access to state-of-the-art foundries and greenhouses, renowned faculty members, and a vibrant community of scholars and practitioners. We expect all our students to uphold our values and rules of discretion, all of which will be detailed in orientation after the welcome gala. Details enclosed.
Please signify your acceptance of this offer by sending a raven to the Office of Admissions no later than the end of the month.
Once again, congratulations on earning your place. We look forward to welcoming you into our esteemed ranks.
Yours sincerely,
Remington Belcourt
High Chancellor
Wren didn’t bother to hide the trembling in her hands this time. She simply stared at the letter, at the elegant script telling her that after five years of rejection, her moment had finally come.
‘There is one condition,’ Audra said coolly.
Wren didn’t look up from the parchment, her heart hammering wildly. ‘Oh?’
‘You will be accompanied by a guard. By order of the Guild.’
Wren did look up then, incredulous. ‘What?’ She was sure she must have misheard, but Audra’s mouth was set in a hard line. ‘Audra, that’s hardly necessary. Why in the midrealms would I need—’
‘As per the laws of the midrealms, an attack on one royal is an attack on all. I told your sister for years that she wasn’t invincible. Nor are you.’
Wren made to argue, but Audra’s glare alone silenced her.
‘Am I mistaken?’ the Guild Master demanded. ‘Do you or do you not wish to attend Drevenor?’
Wren’s stomach squirmed. The thought of being under constant surveillance left a bitter taste in her mouth, but it was Drevenor . Her youthful dreams of becoming a Master Alchemist were suddenly that much closer.
Her pride was like a sharp rock in her throat, but she swallowed it anyway. ‘Who have you assigned to me, then?’
‘The very best.’ Audra pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose. ‘Someone who knows how to keep you safe.’
Wren’s skin prickled, and her storm magic flickered as if in warning. ‘Who?’
‘Who do you think?’ came a husky voice from the door.
She’d know that voice anywhere. That lightning-kissed hair, those deep-blue eyes, that spark in her chest.
Torj Elderbrock, the silver-haired Bear Slayer, leaned against the frame, exuding an intense energy that seemed to vibrate through the air, through her .
Raw. Untamed. Masculine.
A challenging smirk graced his lips. ‘I’m your new bodyguard, Embervale.’