Part Three

The Wells' Family Legacy

The sun had set several hours ago and the fire Hunter and Braya had made when they had arrived in the forest had died just an hour ago. Moving carefully and slowly, Hunter stood up from his bedroll and grabbed his pack sitting a few feet away from him. He had left his clothes from the day on and he had already filled his pack with everything he would need. He glanced over at Braya, letting out a sigh of relief when he found that she was still asleep.

His plan was beginning to unravel before his eyes. True, it had started coming apart at the seams long before--when Michael had died in front of him, when Thomas had learned about Kathleen--but it had only gotten worse from there. Now, Thomas had found out that Hunter had lied about not knowing his mother and Braya was growing suspicious of Hunter’s actions, telling Thomas that he should be cautious around him. And as Hunter had pointed out just that morning, he wasn’t allowed in the castle. How the hell was he supposed to go through with his revenge plan if he couldn’t get anywhere near Wells?

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and looking in the direction of the castle. The trees of the forest prevented Hunter from seeing too far, hiding the castle from his sight, but after living there for the past seven years, he could easily imagine what it looked like. In his mind, he could see the tall walls surrounding it, the now empty courtyard lying in between the main part of the castle and the walls, the five-floored castle, some of the windows with candle light shining through them, despite the late hour, and the four towers situated at each cardinal direction. And just like a few hours ago when he and Braya had left Thomas, simply picturing it in his head caused a pang of homesickness to go through him.

Hunter shook his head, shoving away that feeling. Why should he feel homesick for the castle? He should know by now that everything can change in seconds and that he shouldn’t really be surprised that that was proving true once again. He brought his hand up, grazing it over his sunflower pin on his left collar. It was another reminder that the things he cared about would always eventually be destroyed in seconds. He truly shouldn’t be surprised that the Tascelan Archers had been banned and that he would never become one, that the place he had once called home had been taken from him.

He shook his head again, chasing away that thought. There was still a chance that he could become an archer, he reminded himself. Not everything was lost. If he could get his plan to work, if he could get the Aspayan Hero to trust him, if he could take down the Aspayan Empire by using that trust, then Castle Tascela could once again be home for him and he could become a Tascelan Archer one day.

Centering himself on those thoughts, Hunter slung his pack over his shoulder, making his way over to Magnus. He had no idea how he was going to get his plan back on track with not being able to go into the castle, but he was beginning to form some kind of plan in his head.

“Hunter?” a voice asked behind him.

Whirling around, his hand immediately going to where he kept his knife, Hunter found Braya sitting up from her own bedroll, blinking away her sleepiness. He dropped his hand from his knife and cursed internally. Braya had made herself clear about where she stood on his relationship with Thomas. He knew that she wouldn’t be happy about what he was trying to do.

“Where are you going?” she asked, standing up and walking forwards until she stood directly in front of him. Somehow, her hair was lying perfectly straight yet again, not even messed up in the slightest from being asleep.

“I-I--” The lie that had been on his lips died away. He was getting tired of lying to everyone and he was starting to get mad at himself that his first reaction was to lie. Still, he told himself that it was necessary, that it was needed for his plan to work. Steeling himself, he said, “I thought I heard noises. I--”

“Will you stop lying?” Braya snapped. “First you lie to Thomas, apparently, about his mother, and now you’re lying to me.” She folded her arms across her chest, looking at him with an accusatory glare. “Do you ever tell the truth?”

Hunter’s jaw snapped shut. Her words hit too close to home for him and he didn’t know how to answer her question. He wanted to tell Braya that, yes, he did tell the truth, but he knew that would just be another lie.

“Forget it,” Braya said, turning on her heel and walking away from him. “I don’t care where you’re going.”

Hunter felt his eyebrows raise at that statement. “Now you’re lying to me.” That made Braya stop, though she didn’t turn back around to look at him. Taking that to mean he could continue, he said, “You care about my actions or else you wouldn’t have asked. You wouldn’t have gotten mad when I lied.”

“So you admit it.” Braya turned around, her brown eyes flashing with anger. “You just lied to me. Tell me, Hunter, does it make you happy to know you’re lying to everyone? Do you feel even the slightest bit remorseful whenever you utter a lie? Do you take pleasure in hiding your intentions from your friends?”

At the end of her questions, Hunter felt like all his air had left him. Each question felt like a punch to the stomach, driving hard into him and knocking the wind right out from him. They echoed in his head, bouncing around. Still, he reminded himself of his plan, reminded himself of what he was trying to accomplish, reminded himself of the goal he was so close to achieving, a goal that he had been harboring since he was six-years-old.

“I could ask you the same questions, Braya,” Hunter said, stepping forward until he was in front of her. “I know you’re hiding something from both me and Thomas. I know that you haven’t been exactly truthful with either of us. How does a seventeen-year-old girl walk all by herself from Evermeadow Fief to the border between Malin and Tascela? Why would she decide to travel by herself all the way from Evermeadow to Castle Tascela, which would take over a month to complete by foot? All to find your brother? And what were you planning on doing once you found out if he was alive or dead? Turn back around and head home, partaking in another month-long journey by foot?” By the time he finished speaking, he was standing less than a foot away from Braya, who was looking uncomfortable with Hunter’s questions.

“I don’t have to answer any of your questions,” she said, a defiant tone to her words. “I don’t trust you, so I’m not going to trust you with my answers.”

Hunter tilted his head. “That’s another lie. If you don’t trust me, then why did you agree to camp out in the forest with me? Wouldn't it have been better if you went into town and stayed at the inn there instead of spending time with a person you don’t trust?”

“Maybe I don’t have enough money to afford a room in the inn,” she retorted.

“Fair enough,” Hunter conceded. “But why didn’t you find your own camping spot in the forest? Why did you stay with me?”

“Perhaps I didn’t feel safe enough by myself.”

“So, you trusted me enough to protect you.” Hunter paused, then asked, “But that brings me to my original question. You didn’t want to be by yourself in a forest, but you were fine with going on a month-long journey by yourself?”

Braya clenched her fists, lifting her chin to stare at him directly in the eye. Still, she didn’t say anything.

“Fine, don’t trust me,” he said, lifting his hands in a placating manner before stepping backwards, still keeping his eyes on her. “And to answer your question from earlier, I’m going to the castle to talk with Thomas.”

The defensiveness in Braya evaporated like dark clouds after a rainstorm. In its place was anger and concern. “The castle? How do you plan on getting in when the gates are closed? You said that you would be arrested if you go in. And to talk with Thomas? You’re planning something and I’m beginning to have a feeling that something has to do with Thomas. Stay away from him, Hunter, and stop with whatever you’re doing.”

“Stop?” Hunter asked before he could stop himself. “How am I supposed to stop when the Empire is still set upon making my life a living hell? When they’ve taken everything from me? How am I supposed to stop when they won’t ever stop? When I finally, finally, have a chance at destroying them from the inside out? I--” He cut himself off once he realized what he had said. Judging from Braya’s wide eyes and the realization dawning on her face, he had told her too much about his plan.

“You’re trying to overthrow Aspaya,” Braya said slowly. “You’re planning a rebellion.”

“What if I am?” he asked. “You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you don’t want to do the same, not when you watched them kill Michael. Not when they took your brother and--”

“Of course I agree with you,” Braya cut across him. She glanced around them, looking fearful, almost as if she was expecting Aspayan soldiers to arrest them both for their treasonous words. Then, she started speaking again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Empire took everything from me. But, Hunter, what does this have to do with Thomas?” When he stayed quiet, she pressed forward, walking towards him and grabbing his hand, holding it with both of hers. “You can tell me, Hunter.” She was staring at him, her eyes filled with complete and true honesty and sincerity. “We can do this together. You aren’t going to be able to do this all by yourself. You can't have a rebellion with just one person. Trust m--”

He wrenched his hand away from hers, taking a step backwards from her. “Trust you? You want me to trust you? When you won’t even answer my questions? When you won’t trust me? When you’ve made it abundantly clear where you stand with me and my lies?” He ignored the hurt filling her expression, the way she had stopped breathing, the way tears were forming in her eyes. Instead, he continued on his angry tirade, pushing away the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him.

“No, I don’t trust you with this. I can’t tell you, not when you’ll be disgusted with the person that I am.” Just the same way that I’m disgusted with myself for this plan, for what I’ve become, for the lies and the omissions that I’ve uttered, for what I’m about to do. “And I can do this by myself, Braya.” Well, mostly by myself. Thomas will be helping with my plan, though he doesn’t know it and it hinges upon using him to achieve what I’m trying to do. “After all, I’ve been by myself for years now, and I’ve been just fine.” Don’t think about Michael, don’t think about Michael; he’s gone now, anyways. And don’t think about your old friendship with Thomas, for that was gone the instant you decided to go through with this plan. You’re absolutely, truly alone now, and have been ever since your parents died.

Hunter turned on his heel and strode to where Magnus stood, saddling him as fast as he could.

“Hunter,” Braya called after him. He said nothing, keeping his eyes trained on his horse and his task of leaving the forest. “Hunter, look at me.” He ignored her in favor of mounting Magnus, turning him in the direction of the castle. “Hunter!” This time, Braya stepped in front of his horse, forcing Hunter to look at her and for him to stay.

“Braya, move,” he commanded.

The girl stubbornly shook her head. “No, I want you to listen to me, Hunter Wright. What you just said, all of it, are complete lies. As much as I hate your lies and whatever you have planned with Thomas, I still care about you. I could never be disgusted by you and you’re not alone. You have both Thomas and me. We’re here for you and we’re here to help you. You just need to let us. Please, Hunter, I’m begging you, let us help you. I know that without Michael, everything looks bleak and it feels like you’re alone. But that’s not true. Hunter, would Michael want you--”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Hunter interrupted. “You’ve never even met him--how can you talk about what he might want for me? You know nothing about him nor even me. How can you be so sure that you wouldn’t hate me if you knew the truth? If you knew the real me?”

Braya widened her eyes. “Oh, the real you? What about the person who traveled all the way from Castle Tascela to Ridgecrest to tell his friend about his parents? The person who agreed to take his friend to meet his parents for the first time? The person who didn’t hesitate to fight off the soldiers that were after his friend? Or was all of that just an act?”

Something within Hunter snapped. “Yes, Braya, it was. And now I want you to listen to me, Braya Moore. I am an awful person and it’s time for you to come to terms with that fact. I have lied and done horrible things to get to this point and I’m not about to let it all go to waste. I’m going to Castle Tascela to continue forth with my plan and I’m going to start a rebellion, without your help. Goodbye, Braya.”

With that, Hunter nudged Magnus to go forward, moving past Braya to leave their campsite. He could hear Braya yelling after him, trying to get him to stay, but he ignored her, urging Magnus into a gallop. Soon, he couldn’t hear her shouts anymore. Still, her words and her questions bounced around in his head and he found himself questioning everything he had done in the past week.

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It had to be worth it in the end, right? The end justified the means, did it not?

Visions of his father yelling at his mother and him to run while he fought against the Aspayan soldier, of his mother’s scream as the officer’s sword went through her stomach, of a bloody sword cutting at him, slicing open a cut right above his eye, of a soldier yelling at him to run as he was beat to death, of Michael’s vacant eyes staring upwards at nothing filled his mind.

They were a reminder of what he was avenging, of what the Empire had done to him and the people around him, and why he had to do what he was planning. He had to use Thomas, had to use the relationship he had with him to get closer to Wells. That proximity would give him a position within the Aspayan Army, a position high enough for him to do damage to the Empire, to take it down from within.

It would be worth it in the end. The end did justify the means.

Still, he couldn’t get the picture of Thomas’ hurt face as he realized that Hunter had lied about knowing his mother out of his head. He couldn’t forget Thomas’ shouts and the way he had stepped away from him. He couldn’t shake away what Braya’s questions about what his lies had done to him. He couldn’t forget her hurt expression when he refused to tell her what he was planning, the tears in her eyes, nor the way she had stopped breathing.

And, above all else, he couldn’t forget how he didn’t keep Michael’s dying promise. He brought Thomas to Castle Tascela, he allowed Thomas to meet his father for the first time, he did everything he could do to ensure that Thomas would be able to meet Wells.

Hunter reined Magnus in, holding tight to the reins and looking up at the sky above him. They had made it to the edge of the forest, just now beginning to travel through the open fields leading up to the castle. High above him, the stars were twinkling, shining down on him and his horse.

Similar to last night, they felt distant and cold, but for the first time in years, he remembered his mother’s belief that past loved ones resided within them, watching down on those they had left behind.

“Would you be proud of me?” Hunter asked. He didn’t know who he was talking to, whether it was his mother, his father, or even Michael he was directing his question to. “Would you want me to do this?” He blinked away the tears trying to make their way down his face, trying his best to avoid crying. “W-would you still love me if you were here?”

The stars stayed silent, as he knew they would. Still, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed in that fact, almost as if he were hoping to hear some kind of answer to his questions, almost as if he were hoping to have some kind of guidance in navigating the complicated thoughts and feelings at war within him.

Their silence was just yet another reminder of how alone he was in this world, and that thought alone encouraged him to keep going. If he were alone, then there was no one who would be disappointed in him over his actions. There was no one to tell him to stop, to tell him to turn away. And if he were alone, there was no one who would stop loving him when they realized what he was about to do.

Besides, the people he was avenging would want him to do this. They would want him to destroy the Empire that had destroyed them, they would want him to continue on the path of betrayal and revenge that he was currently on.

And perhaps if he kept repeating those thoughts over and over again, he could convince himself that that was the truth.

>>========> <========<<

Hunter left Magnus at the edge of the forest and headed towards the wall of the castle by himself. While he couldn’t get into the castle via normal ways, like walking through the gates, there was nothing preventing him from climbing up the wall. It had seemed like such a good idea when he was back at the camp with Braya, but now faced with the thirty-foot walls, he realized just how stupid his plan had been. Still, he found himself smiling as he started climbing upwards. Nothing was too challenging for him and the impossibility of the situation just made him want to do it even more, if only to prove to himself that he could do it.

And do it, he could. Upon approaching the top of the wall, however, Hunter discovered a new problem that he also hadn’t thought of: the guards on top of the wall. He froze when he heard voices talking back and forth, his limbs shaking with the effort of having to hold himself onto the wall. He calmed himself, straining to hear what the guards were discussing.

“--posed to relieve us soon,” one of them said.

“Well, I’m not waiting for them any longer. It’s far too cold for anyone to stand out here for this long.” Hunter frowned. Sure, it was late fall and chilly at this time of night, but it wasn’t unbearable.

“What, you’re missing the weather of your homeland?” the first guard joked. Hunter’s frown deepened. As far as he knew, all the guards were from somewhere in Tascela. True, the regions had differing climates, but the differences weren’t that drastic and they were all still part of the same kingdom. So why was the first guard acting like they were from different kingdoms?

“Oh, shut up,” the second guard responded. “And it’s your homeland now, too, what with Aspaya winning the war.”

Suddenly, Hunter realized the answer to his question. The second guard was from Apsaya. He tensed, anger flaring through him. Not only had they defeated his kingdom and took away the Tascelan Archers, but they were now serving as guards in his home? Still, he calmed himself, telling himself that this was good, that it boded well for him.

Before he had left Castle Tascela, there had been no Aspayan guards. Their unit had to have arrived here while Hunter had traveled to and from Ridgecrest. And someone else was supposed to come during that same timeframe, a person who was from Aspaya as well.

The Aspayan Hero, Matheson Wells.

And if he were here now, that meant that Thomas had met him that day, which meant that step one of Hunter’s plan was complete.

But why did he feel dismay over that fact? Why did he feel upset over it? He should be relieved, he should be happy that Thomas had met Wells. Still…

“The picture that you’re missing here, Hunter, is my story. A story about a bitter, failed archer’s apprentice who promised to seek revenge against me and the kingdom who he felt had turned their backs on him. A revenge arc that actually did come to fruition, as he is now considered across the Aspayan Empire as the Aspayan Hero and his old kingdom is now a tributary to that Empire. And about a desire to take his son back, something that I will prevent with my dying breath.”

Michael turned to Hunter. “And don’t you dare take him. Promise me.” Before Hunter could say anything, though, Michael’s eyes went vacant, staring up at nothing, and he stopped breathing.

“My parents died when I was younger. Thomas and I have been friends for a few years now and most of our conversations revolved around our background, which was the fact that we were orphans. Now, Thomas is in there, getting the chance to meet his mother, and I’m out here, still an orphan. And I know I should be happy for him, but…I’m not. And I feel like a terrible person for that. My friend is getting something that he has longed for for years, yet here I am, feeling jealous of him and mad at him for doing something that I can’t do.”

“Many people dislike Matheson and consider him to be a bad person. What if he’s--I don’t know--abusive or something?”

“Thomas, everything I did for the past twelve years has been in an attempt to try and protect you from him. I gave you up so that you would never be anywhere near him.”

“Would you be proud of me?” Hunter asked, gazing up at the stars twinkling above him. He didn’t know who he was talking to, whether it was his mother, his father, or even Michael he was directing his question to. “Would you want me to do this?” He blinked away the tears trying to make their way down his face, trying his best to avoid crying. “W-would you still love me if you were here?”

Hunter shook away those thoughts, centering himself on the current moment. He had already made his decision; he shouldn’t be second-guessing himself. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and then exhaling slowly. Opening his eyes, he focused back on the guards’ conversation.

“--sides, we can wait inside the guardhouse until they replace us.”

Hunter’s eyes widened and he waited in bated breath for the other person’s response to this idea. He couldn’t believe his luck. If the other guard agreed, then the two of them would head back inside, leaving the top of the wall devoid of any guards and giving him the chance to get over the wall.

“Sure, why not,” the other guard sighed. Hunter heard footsteps echoing along the length of the wall and the sound of a door opening and closing.

Releasing his breath, Hunter hurried up and over the top of the wall, not waiting for any more people to arrive on his section of the castle wall. Once on the top, he looked both ways. There were towers to his left and his right. One of them was the guardhouse, where he knew the two guards were. The other one, however, was just a staircase.

Hunter turned to his left, heading towards the staircase, a smile gracing his lips when he discovered that, as he was hoping, it was empty. He took the steps two at a time, opening the door and heading out into the courtyard and making his way to the kitchen entrance. With his dark cloak on and a hood obscuring his facial features, he hoped that anyone who spotted him thought that he was only a guard, heading into the kitchens for a midnight snack. As much as it had pained him to do, he had left his bow and arrows with Magnus, knowing that those weapons would reveal his true identity. He had also unpinned his sunflower, placing it in his pocket. He was trying to be sneaky and didn’t want any light to glance off of the metal. Besides, the silver sunflower head would out him as a Tascelan Archer, which would prove detrimental to his task at hand.

Now inside of the kitchens, Hunter paused. He had no idea where Thomas would be. The Aspayan guard at the top of the wall had revealed that Wells was, in fact, now at Castle Tascela, so it was a safe conclusion that Thomas would be staying in his rooms. And, as Wells was an advisor in the court, he would either be living on the third or fourth floor. Which floor and which set of rooms, Hunter had no idea. Shrugging his shoulders and deciding that he could figure that one out when he arrived there, Hunter made his way to the southwest staircase, running up the stairs lightly and silently. He hesitated on the second floor landing, sparing a glance at the door leading out onto the floor where his room had once been. He briefly wondered if they had cleared out all of his things already, now that he was declared a traitor, or if they had yet to do that. Shaking his head and focusing back on his mission, he continued to the top of the stairs, stepping out onto the third floor.

Hunter frowned, trying to come up with an idea with how to figure out where Wells’ suite would be. Most of the rooms were attached to the provinces, not the advisors themselves. While the advisors had changed over the years that he had been living at the castle, the rooms had remained the same. For instance, he knew that the first room on his right was assigned to the advisor from Trillium Province, which meant that Advisor Gilberts lived there.

Suddenly, Hunter knew exactly how to find Thomas.

He knew which advisor lived in which suite. If he matched each suite with each of the advisors, then all he had to do was check the empty rooms. For Wells wouldn’t have been assigned a suite yet as his position was so new. He would’ve been given one of the empty rooms.

Pleased that he now had a course of action, Hunter closed his eyes, picturing both the third floor and the fourth floor in his head and matching each suite with an advisor. He frowned when he realized that there were no empty suites. If there weren’t any open sets of rooms, then where was Wells staying?

He opened his eyes, his gaze landing on a door in the middle of the hallway on his right. It had a pine wreath on it and, as he stared at it, he got the answer to his question. He had gotten the wreath as a Christmas present for Michael last year and his mentor had insisted on hanging it up on the door to his room and in leaving it up all year long. Looking at it now, Hunter was reminded of the fact that Michael was gone and was no longer the Senior Archer. As such, his room would be empty. Meaning that Wells could have easily taken it as his.

Hunter crept down the hallway until he stood directly in front of the door, his breath leaving him as he stared at the wreath.

Of course Wells would have taken Michael’s suite. He probably even took over his office up on the fifth floor. It would have been one last way to spit in the face of Wells’ former mentor, a final act done in an effort to spite Michael. For Wells, of course it wouldn’t have been enough to simply disband the Tascelan Archers and declare Michael a traitor to the kingdom he had sworn to protect. No, he had to go above and beyond, stealing his rooms and his office.

And, just to ensure that everyone was aware of that fact, he had left the pine wreath on the door. Just as a reminder of who had used to live there. As a reminder of the man who was no longer in this world, thanks to the soldiers from the kingdom Wells had aligned himself with.

Hunter placed his hand on the door handle, smiling when it opened. It seemed that Wells was arrogant enough to leave his door unlocked, trusting the guards of the castle and perhaps his high social status to protect himself from potential intruders. Hunter walked into the room, closing the door silently behind him. He was standing in a living area, two doors on either side of it. A large window with the curtains open emitted moonlight to stream into the room, allowing Hunter some visibility. Still, it wasn’t much and Hunter had to strain his eyes to see where he was going.

Hunter glanced at either door, wondering which one he should go through. He knew that they each led to a bedroom and that Wells and Thomas would be in either one. The question was which one was Thomas in.

Or perhaps he could go into where Wells was and simply kill him now. The death of the Aspayan Hero would be a devastating blow to the Empire, one that they might not recover from. Still, Hunter told himself that he couldn’t do that. If he killed Wells now, he had no way to make it out of the castle alive. While he was willing to do whatever it took to bring revenge for his dead dreams and dead loved ones, he was apprehensive about going on a complete suicide mission. Though he knew that, if it was necessary, he was more than willing to die to bring down the Empire. However, there was a chance that the Empire could recover from Wells’ death and continue with its oppressive reign. Wells’ death would only serve to bring revenge for Hunter’s ruined dreams of becoming an archer and nothing else. It most likely wouldn’t destroy the Empire, who was the real enemy in Hunter’s mind. For it was the Empire that had killed his parents and that had killed Michael, not Wells.

So, Hunter was back to trying to guess at which bedroom Thomas was in. Just a couple of weeks ago, the left bedroom belonged to Michael. The right bedroom had always been a guest bedroom. Simply basing his guess on tradition alone, Hunter walked quietly over to the right bedroom, opening the door.

There was also a window in this bedroom, Hunter knew, but the curtains were closed, preventing any light from making its way into the room. As such, the room was pitch black, and Hunter paused in the doorway, waiting for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he looked over to the bed, spotting a figure lying on it. Judging by the slow breathing and the time of night, the person lying down was fast asleep. Hunter stepped forward, taking care to close the door quietly behind him. Then, he moved forwards until he was standing in front of the figure, eyes fixated on the person. He had to make certain that this was Thomas before he woke them up. If it was Wells, then he would be done for, his plans of revenge thrown immediately out of the window. Besides, there was still a chance, though a very slim one, that Wells had stolen someone else’s suite and had given Michael’s suite to someone else.

Hunter smiled as he was met with blonde curls and a youthful face. Even with the person’s eyes closed and being unable to look at the boy’s ice blue eyes, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Thomas Wells that he was looking at.

And so he reached forwards, starting to shake the boy awake.