Chapter 3 #2
The High Witch nodded once to him, and he turned back to the cave. He knew she’d be long gone whenever he emerged, but someone would be watching him to make sure he was indeed across their borders when the sun next rose.
He entered the cave, navigating the pitch-black interior.
Even with his Fae sight, he could not see a thing.
His gifts had always given him an extra advantage due to his need to move through smoke.
Without that gift, he felt blind. Fingers gliding along the rocky wall, he moved down the passageway.
It only took a few minutes before a glow appeared up ahead, and when he stepped through, he blinked in surprise at what he found.
No one knew the Oracle’s true form. It was said she appeared differently to each person who came to her. But why he was staring at a child, he had no idea.
The girl had to be no older than seven with bright red hair and freckles across her nose and cheeks, but her violet eyes held a depth and knowing to them that told Rayner she was far, far older than she appeared.
The girl wore a simple dress, feet bare where she stood on the dirt-covered cave floor, and Rayner had the strangest feeling that he knew this child.
He could not place her though, no matter how hard he tried.
“And so the one with many names has finally found his way to me,” the little girl said, watching him carefully, hands clasped behind her back.
“You are a child?” Rayner asked without thinking, still trying to figure out how he knew her face.
“I am many things to many people. I am whatever you need me to be,” she answered, her voice small and innocent.
“And I need you to be … a child? Why?”
“Why indeed.”
Rayner reached up, pushing back his hood, suddenly unconcerned with being too exposed in the Oracle’s presence. “The High Witch said you have been waiting for me,” he said hoarsely, not liking how much the sight of a child was throwing him off balance.
“I have been,” she agreed, her head tilting slightly. “But I did not know if it would be the Ash Rider who found their way to me or one of the many other titles you go by or will go by.”
“You are the Oracle. How could you not know?”
A faint smile appeared on her lips. “Fate is constantly changing. Every choice one makes alters what is to come, which means every future I glimpse is only one possibility.” She began to move, leaving small footprints in the dirt as she circled him. “What do you seek from me?”
“My memories,” he answered. “My past. I do not … My earliest memory is from nearly six decades ago. I know nothing of my life before that.”
“No,” the girl said, shaking her head. “That is not what you seek.”
Unsure of what to say to that, he watched for a few silent moments before he said, “That is all I have sought since I found myself on a beach in the Water Court, unaware of how I arrived there.”
“That is what you think you have been seeking,” she corrected, disappearing into the shadows of the cave where he could no longer see her.
Rayner spun, her voice coming from behind him now. “Then what is it you think I have been seeking?”
“Why do you seek these lost memories?”
“Who wouldn’t want to know where they came from?”
“What does it matter?” the voice countered, coming from his left this time. “Will your past decide your future?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?” The question was full of a child’s curiosity.
“Why? Why wouldn’t it?”
“Will it define who you are?”
“I already know I am an Ash Rider.”
“That is what you are. Not who you are. And even then …” Rayner whirled, the voice coming from another spot in the cave now.
“Even then, that is not entirely what you are. You are more than ash and smoke. You are more than Fae. But none of that is who you are. So many names in your past. So many names in your future.” She stepped from the shadows, a slightly terrifying smile on her small face.
“Ash Rider. Wanderer. Favorite.” She slipped back into the dark, stepping from somewhere new that had Rayner spinning around yet again. “Reaper.”
“Reaper?”
Her smile tipped up even more, her head tilting. “Brother.”
“Brother?” he repeated in a slightly horrified whisper.
“Would you like to know some other names that could be yours?”
“I …” He paused. Did he want to know? “No, I just want to know what lies in my past.”
“Why?”
Frustration coursed through him. “Because how can I know who I am if I do not know where I came from?”
Her smile widened, and she stepped right up to him, her bare toes touching his boots. Her head was tipped back, and she spoke softly when she said, “That is what you seek, Ash Rider. Not your memories. Not your past. You wish to know who you are, who you are supposed to be.”
Rayner flinched back when several torches burst to light, flames flickering and casting shadows along the cave walls. The child moved to a stone table that appeared in the center of the room, a basin atop it. She climbed upon the table, stirring the contents with her fingers.
“One not of this world took from you. Took more than your memories.” She looked up, violet eyes connecting with his where he still stood across the chamber.
“Understand that if I give these memories back to you, there is no undoing it. Consider that sometimes it is better to not know than to live with memories you cannot change. Consider that maybe losing these memories was a blessing rather than a curse. And consider that learning such secrets of your past still may not tell you who you are.”
“Do you know what these memories are?” he asked.
“No,” she answered. She reached into the basin, and when she pulled her hand back out, a vial was held between her fingers. “Make your choice, descendant of Anala and those who hunt.”
“What does that mean?”
“There is so much more to your gifts than you know. So many futures,” the child mused. “I wonder which will come to pass.”
He’d taken the vial, and the moment he’d swallowed down the elixir, the entirety of his first three decades came flooding back to him. The Southern Islands. The cliffs. Moranna. Feris. Aravis. Breya.
He’d sunk to his knees when he realized the Oracle’s form was that of his youngest sister who he’d been unable to save.
But he’d left the cave with a new title.
The Reaper.
That’s what he had become. His sole purpose had become freeing the innocents still trapped in the cliffs, hoping he was not too late to save Aravis.
Rayner signaled the barkeep to bring him another mug of ale as he watched the Fae around him.
A shady game of cards was happening in a dark corner.
One deck of playing cards had already gone up in flames.
He would bet this deck would go up within the next hour.
A few females were off to one side, scoping out their options.
Some for pleasure, some for coin. He knew if he lowered the hood of his cloak, one would approach within minutes. It was why he kept the hood up.
Well, one of the reasons.
The other was as soon as people saw his eyes swirling with the ashes and smoke, they quickly realized what he was, and that always brought about a gambit of reactions. Some wanted to employ him. Some wanted to fuck him. Some wanted to fight him. All of them annoyed him.
Which is why he snarled a warning when the barkeep brought his mug of ale over and someone else dropped some coin onto his table to cover his tab.
“Do not accept that,” Rayner growled, reaching for his own coin. He didn’t even bother to look at whoever was attempting to buy him a drink. He didn’t incur debts, and he didn’t accept favors or kind gestures. Such things always ended up turning into debts in the end.
The barkeep glanced from him to whoever was standing at the table, wiping his hands nervously on his apron. “Sorry, sire,” he finally answered. “I must accept it,” he added, quickly swiping up the coin and bowing before he scurried away.
The bowing was perplexing.
Until someone slid into the chair across from him. Then it made perfect sense.
Bright amber eyes stared back at him, soot-black hair falling over his brow. He wore a dark red short-sleeved tunic, gold and copper threads embroidered along the collar. The male braced his forearms on the table, a faint arrogant smirk tilting on his lips.
The Prince of the Fire Court.