36. The Archives #2
Master Carfyth’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, the shadows wrapping around the narrow space as he got further way and headed back towards the library.
When he was out of earshot, Aeden let out a sigh and started scanning the room, the thick layer of dust obscuring what was etched onto the spines of most of the books. “Just how long has it been since someone came in here?” Aeden said.
Harrison poked his head out the doorframe before coming back inside. “So, are you going to tell me what we’re really looking for?”
Aeden felt taken aback at Harrison’s sudden questioning. “I already said, the battle report to do with the Battle of Weir.” It wasn’t all of the truth, but it certainly wasn’t a lie.
“Cut the shit,” Harrison said, “I know when someone is lying to me.”
“I’m not lying,” Aeden protested, but it fell on deaf ears.
Harrison stared at Aeden expectedly, and Aeden found himself shrinking.
“You’re not telling me everything though, are you?
” Harrison said. “I know you’ve been pushing us all away.
We’ve all told you that you don’t need to do that.
We’ve got your back. So do me a favour and tell me exactly why I am down in this dark, damp, disgusting archive room.
” He slapped his lips together and contorted his face in disgust. “Even the air feels old down here. No one wants to be down here, but given that this is the furthest away we’ve been from anyone in the academy and we’re out of earshot, this is the perfect opportunity for you to let me know. ”
He had an expectant look, one that told Aeden he had little other option than to tell the truth, not unless he wanted to ruin any form of friendship with Harrison.
“I’m your friend, you can trust me.”
Aeden stood like a rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a hunting party. He had already disclosed some information, but still, confiding in someone fully made Aeden feel nervous, and then he realised something about himself.
He had never confided in anyone before, not fully, anyway. He took a breath and gathered himself. Harrison was right, Aeden could trust him. He had already proven that, as long as he was aware of the risks.
“Fine,” Aeden sighed. “But you cannot say a word to anyone else, not even to Serene or Vivienne. And this might put you at risk at the academy if I get caught. I appreciate you want to help me, but I can’t carry that burden on my own. I’ll only tell you if you understand the risks.”
It was Harrison’s turn to pause for a moment as he thought about his options, although his decision-making was far quicker than Aeden’s. “Deal,” he said. He pulled out one of the chairs, brushed off the dust on the seat, and gestured to the other for Aeden to take a seat.
“That didn’t take you much convincing,” Aeden said as he did the same with the other chair and sat down. It was sturdier than it looked, which lessened Aeden’s fears of it collapsing under his weight .
Harrison sat back in his chair. “Well, go on, why have you dragged me down into these gods-forsaken archives?”
“Because I think the academy is lying to me about my parents.”
“Well, that’s not what I thought you were going to say!” Harrison said, his mouth opening in shock. “I mean, why would you think they’d lie to you about that?”
“Because I don’t trust them, any of them. This place is not a nice place. I think you can agree with that. The way they treat the students, the way they just accept that up to a third of us won’t survive the first term, it’s just not normal.”
“Actually, I think the death rate has been a lot lower with our cohort than with previous ones,” Harrison said. “I overheard Master Storme talking to Director Vale.”
“Either way, the academy doesn’t have our best interests at heart. They want to produce riders, and that’s it.”
“We knew this coming in. I don’t know about you, but I certainly wasn’t naive enough to think that graduating at the academy or bonding with an Aer-Kin was going to be easy.
” Harrison started brushing off the table in front of him, a plume of dust rising into the air before he rested his elbows on the newly polished surface.
“So again, what makes you think they’re lying about your parents? I mean, why would they?”
“I grew up knowing both my parents died in the Battle of Weir. My grandparents brought me up, otherwise I would have been sent to the mills to pay my way and keep a roof over my head. They told me the stories about what happened, about the bloodbath that happened that day.”
“Most of the Support class lost a family member in that battle, Aeden. You don’t have to explain it to me. ”
“Well, I grew up thinking that’s what happened to them. That they were collateral damage in a battle where they were ambushed, when they were isolated and away from all the other classes. It was something I had always accepted, because it was all that I knew.”
“What changed, then?” Harrison asked.
Aeden paused once again. This was his chance to stop, to not divulge too much information. He had come this far, so he pulled out the letter from the inside of his jacket.
“I received a letter, and inside it, it said . . .” He started reading from the mysterious letter as quietly as he could.
“‘Truth dies in daylight, but fire reveals all. Your parents’ fates were not forged in battle, but in betrayal. Go to the place where Aer-Kin rise, only there will you find the ash-covered truth.’” His voice trembled as he shared the letter with Harrison.
“Cryptic,” Harrison said. “How do you know it’s legitimate?”
Aeden could tell that Harrison was sceptical, and he didn’t blame him.
“Why would someone send me a letter like that? Why would someone plant a seed of doubt like that? This is where Aer-Kin rise. I had no intention of joining the academy until that letter reached me, and look at everything that has happened since. I’m telling you, there’s more to what happened to my parents than the academy says, and that might be the same for the rest of the Support class that died in that battle. ”
Harrison let out a long sigh, blowing more dust from the table. “All right then.” He rolled his eyes and clicked his neck. “Where do we start?”