Vallen: The Marking (Vallen series #1)

Chapter 22

a little bit of an earlier update because it's my birthday this weekend :)

I was wandering through the halls of the castle aimlessly. Alaric wanted to speak to his brothers about something important but told me that he would tell me separately, it was more family business anyway. I had noticed that ever since Alaric had found his gift he had become a little bit more quiet, especially when his brothers were around. 

I had no idea why, but in between wondering about my biological parents, worrying about all of the homework and exams and being frustrated by not finding my gift, I did not have a whole lot of time trying to figure out what was going on with Alaric. 

Our friendship worked perfectly in the way that neither of us was very touchy-feely. I only told him what was wrong when I knew he could help me. It looked like he was the same way.

Most of the halls were deserted. It was just after dinner. People were either in the dining hall or back in the dormitories. I had no idea where I was going. That was until I found my way to the fourth floor.

It was Friday night, all the teachers would probably already be in their private chambers. That or they were monitoring dinner downstairs. I went into the west wing of the building and saw that so far I was right: it was completely empty.

I snuck in and headed for the last door before the private chambers. Everything was as we left it, with the exception of maybe fewer papers. I grabbed the torch and closed the door behind me. This time I made sure that I didn't knock over any of the boxes. It was annoying enough to clean up with Alaric, I sure as hell didn't want to do it by myself.

The door still creaked loudly and I held my breath trying to hear if anyone walked by. Seconds passed, but I heard no disturbance in the hall.

I went down the stairs as quietly as I could. I had no idea how this staircase could go from the fourth floor deep enough down that it would reach the river without anyone noticing. All I knew that it had to at least pass some classrooms, maybe even the teacher's lounge. 

I didn't want anyone to know that I am here, the paintings hidden in the room were worth a lot according to Alaric. I don't think I could justify it to any teacher why I was down here without telling anyone.

The room still looked identical to when we left it. I knew Alaric wouldn't go here without me, even though that was exactly what I was doing right now, but I did wonder if he would ever go back here. If he would steal one of the paintings.

Though the paintings were all beautiful, they didn't keep me occupied nearly as long as I wished they had. I walked over to the far side of the room and sat on the edge. Just a few metres below me roared the dark river. The wind had increased over the last few days, sending wave after wave to my legs, but never going high enough to hit them.

I have always loved swimming. I spend hours in the water when I was little, my parents would have to bribe me to get out of the water with sweets and snacks. There was a resounding freedom in the water that I just adored. It didn't matter if someone had called me too fat or too skinny, underwater we were all weightless. 

That's what I loved doing most, swimming underwater. Once Madelena was old enough we would do competitions of who could stay underwater the longest, or who could swim the furthest without air.

I missed her, I really did.

I had found a new goal to complete. I would go to the phone upstairs and ask if I could use it. Two out of three caretakers were fine with me using it without a permission slip, so really it all came down to luck. I jumped up from my spot and went back upstairs in a rush. 

The thought of getting to talk to Madelena brought me back from my weird feeling of restlessness. Maybe I could even talk to her about my gift. She'll understand. I had no idea if she was preparing herself to also go to this school. Maybe she just assumed she would stay human and never had to deal with any of this. Whatever she was doing, I am here to help her.

I opened the door to the hallway to let some light in as I made sure the boxes fully covered the small entrance door. I placed the torch back in its place and wanted to leave, but when I turned around the door to the private chambers had just opened.

"What are you doing here, Mrs Lovell?" Professor Dehaven asked me. I was thankful that at least it was Dehaven that found me and not Kamau. I panicked until I saw the pile of papers separating us. A light bulb went on in my head

"Professor Klasson told me that this is where the papers are with the official school logo on it." I quickly explained. "I wanted to write a letter, she said it was fine if I used it."

Professor Dehaven took one step into the room and reached to the top shelf and grabbed one of the papers. We had eventually settled on writing Gregory Welt on regular paper because we couldn't find the one with the logo on it.

"Who are you writing to?" He asked me as we walked out of the closet.

"The person that placed me with my parents," I answered. Another lightbulb went on. Maybe Professor Dehaven would know the person in the picture! He is a history teacher, what if the man did eventually worked his way up into the ministry. Either he or my social studies teacher could maybe identify him. "I have written to him before, a while ago. He said that in all the chaos of the war he didn't recognize me. He was able to send me this photo." 

I had kept the photo near me at all times, only now had it come in handy. I handed it over to him. Instead of looking at it he opened the door to his office and signed me to come in. Unlike Professor Lourdes' office, this one wasn't covered from the floor to the ceiling in swords, but rather in books. There was one so big that it took up half the bookshelf. Only after we sat down did he take a good look at the photo.

"I am sorry Eira," he said to me, handing the photo back. "I don't recognize him. Though I do have to say that it probably wouldn't hurt to show that photo to students of Nordic descent. They might have seen him before."

"Thank you," I said, feeling a bit disappointed. I was about to stand up until I realized that I was sitting in front of my history teacher. The one person that could tell me more about the war that had separated me from my biological parents.

"Sir," I said. "If you don't mind me asking. I don't really know a whole lot about the war. Besides that the adoption business was overwhelmed by it." Professor Dehaven was one of the teachers that clearly loved his job. He didn't seem to mind it at all that I asked him about it.

"The war lasted for fifty-two years." He started. "Before, the Vallen race was ruled by the royal family. They were well-loved in the early years of our civilization. They brought peace and justice to our unorganized world, and the people loved them for it. They were put in charge. One of the heroes we worship is prince Erasil, he fought against rebellious Vallens and won. Now quite a few centuries passed and the people became less... satisfied with the way they were being ruled. People who opposed the king, or one of his trusted advisors, were killed without a trial. Plus most Vallens started looking around at the rest of the world and saw that democracy often worked better for the society than oppression. But it wasn't until the king ordered a murder on a trusted member of the community that they really did anything about it. The hunters were founded, they were the first group to openly rebel against the throne. The following fifty-two years were indeed messy. No one trusted each other. People didn't know if their neighbour was for or against the crown. They often chose to hide their tattoos and live amongst humans."

"How did it end?" I asked.

"Well, it is said that during the final battle he and his inner circle were foolish enough to enter the battlefield." He answered. "But, truth be told, they never found any of their bodies."

"So they could still be alive?" I asked him. Professor Dehaven sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Much like the adoption system, everything was messy." He said. "There are no graves for them. I have read accounts of people taking the bodies and feeding it to the hounds. Or use it as torture and feed it to their prisoners. Then there are also families that claim that they have the remains of the dead king. There truly is no way of knowing."