The Way We Fall

Chapter 150 (Roche)

TW: Bl00d, fighting, w3apons

That night, Roche didn't wake up Ivie or the princess for their watch shifts. She sat with her father by the fire, explaining her tales to him in full. She no longer felt ashamed to see herself in him. She laughed when he pressed her with exuberant questions, when his eyes widened in wonder like hers and when he edged away from the fire when it crackled loudly, just like her. He listened to her studiously, absorbing every bit of information.

When Roche had finally finished, drained of words, he leaned back, mulling her story over.

"Well," he murmured, "I know it seems ghastly, but Verita and Leinos were quite talented to conceal your inkblood the way they did. That ritual is ancient, the records on it are sparse."

Roche snorted. "That would never stop Verita. If there's a record of something, she knows all about it."

Ikaros smiled warmly. It felt like he'd given her the sun on a platter. "That she does," he told her, tipping his head towards her thoughtfully, "Still, I'm surprised she even tried it. That ritual was originally a punishment of the highest caliber for criminal inkbloods. It was meant to seal away their connection to words and communication. The targets were often left hollow, empty shells. Verita and Leinos must have modified the spell heavily for it to have not killed your infant form."

A shiver ran down Roche's spine. "It sounds permanent." she noted, leaning towards the fire. Ikaros frowned.

"Yes, it should have been," he mused, staring at his daughter in fascination, "Yet somehow your inkblood broke through. Whatever triggered the breaking of the runic restraints must have been powerful indeed."

Roche felt a memory tickling the edge of her mind. She pushed it away, unwilling to revisit the traumatizing memory of her getting her inkblood. "Could it be because I'm the Ala?" she asked hesitantly.

Ikaros pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Let me meditate with my ink tonight. Perhaps the answer will become clearer."

"And how to break through the restraints," Roche muttered. Ikaros glanced up at her in alarm.

"Are you sure you want to do that, my child?" he asked gravely, "Their enchantment has kept you safe for this long. To remove it might make your inkblood visible. You might put yourself at a greater risk. And ask someone who has been chased by the king, I must tell you that it is a great risk."

Roche's heart panged at the words, Her father had spent countless years in a cave for his abilities. She knew the danger of unlocking her true powers and yet...

Her gaze drifted to the sleeping princess and something in her chest loosened.

"I must," she murmured, "I am the Ala. I need to protect Tigris. I've been in the castle under Verita's tutelage for four years. I've learned many incantations, yet my strength continues to fail me. I'm supposed to become one of the most formidable inkbloods to exist. I cannot protect my lady if I do not become who I am supposed to be."

The small speech left her breathless. Ikaros considered her words carefully for a moment. He heaved himself to his feet after a beat.

"Alright," he murmured,, "Let me ask my ink. Get some rest, I'll take the next watch."

Roche obeyed jubilantly, feeling buoyant joy as she snuggled into her bed roll. She turned onto her side, watching through slitted eyes as her father lowered himself to a crouch before smoothly shifting into another position, balancing on one leg. His arms circled around his head, and his inkblood thickened the air.

His face was more peaceful and calm than Roche had seen it be over the past day. She wondered if that's what she looked like when she used her inkblood.