The Ember Thief

Chapter Four - The Archivist

'Do you think I'm ready?' Raide asked, walking around the fountain, idly kicking clumps of blossom. 'I mean, do I know enough to start piecing back my memories?'

'It's hard to say. You might remember one memory or a hundred from a single trigger,' Wisp replied.

Raide wandered through the gardens, admiring the variety of flowers. Most had already shed their beauty for the year, but others still clung to the hope of warmer weather. 'And a single memory might also act as another trigger,' he said, ducking under a low branch.

'Exactly, this is why it is so dangerous early on. In time, I can shoulder the burden of the mind-quakes.' They came to a clearing in the garden, where the ivy had been cut back, revealing a section of exposed wall. A rectangular piece of masonry was affixed to the top with large lettering, written in a language that Raide didn't recognise. A list of names and dates had been chiselled underneath, next to each name a circular metallic sigil, no bigger than a large coin, each one etched with a different animal in extraordinary detail. The last twenty names looked recently made.

'What does this say?' Raide asked, reaching up and tracing his hand over the stone lettering.

'A bond that cannot be broken,' Wisp replied remorsefully.

Raide scanned the names in the list. 'Who are these people, Wisp?'

'They're...the ones that have given their lives to defend our house. All of them fought bravely to ensure the house can continue.'

'So, it's a memorial?'

'A memorial. A place of reflection. But to me, it's a reminder of what we are doing and the price that has been paid,' Wisp continued her sombre tone.

'The last few entries look recently chiselled,' he mumbled to himself. Raide tapped the wall at the last entry in the list. 'Vesper and Calibar. That's the one the girl mentioned this morning.'

Wisp paused as if she had something stuck in her throat. 'As you might have gathered from the conversation you had at breakfast, things aren't going well for us.'

Raide's expression darkened. 'Then we're at war?'

'All the houses are at war, but it's not a war with large armies meeting in an open field. It's not like that anymore; things have changed.'

Raide studied the surrounding flower beds that skirted the clearing around the memorial. Between the plants were breastplates wedged into the soil, each piece of armour had a different animal painted on the front. 'Then, what sort of war is this, Wisp?'

His guide let out a long sigh. 'One that has been raging for a long time.'

Raide bent down and cleared a clump of petals that had gathered around one of the breastplates. 'Do you think I can help?' he said, revealing a brown hare painted on the metal staring back at him.

'We think that you hold the key to turning the tide back in our favour.'

Raide stood back up, dusting his hands. 'Rogan doesn't.'

'He's old and on the front-line, seeing the loss first hand. It's hard not to get emotional – when you lose the ones closest to you.'