A/N: I'd like to apologize for such a long wait between chapters. I've been trying to find some balance in my life, and writing fell to the wayside a little bit. I was feeling uninspired and just tired of forcing myself to sit down and write. I wasn't happy with anything I came up with until now, so I decided that I'd rather post something good after taking a break than post something terrible and not be happy with it. So if you're reading this, I'd like to thank you for being patient, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Feel free to leave me a review to let me know what you think (or even berate me for taking o long to update.) Once again, sorry, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Twenty-Four

-Reaver-

Centuries ago, I was not the clever man I am now. My name was Cassius Reed in those days, and it was a name that many people knew, but only for the wrong reasons. I was not much more than a petty grifter, bounding from village to village peddling snake oils and supposed cure-all tonics, but that was not the only confidence trick I had up my sleeve. Back then, I thought I was a criminal mastermind. I sometimes thought myself a Gamemaster and challenged people to games of wit that required excellent sleight of hand on my part. I always emerged victorious. People in the smaller, less civilized villages were so terribly gullible and so eager to play fast and loose with their gold, and I took advantage of that at every opportunity.

It was when I received news that my father had passed away that I was drawn back to Oakvale. I was the youngest child, so I would receive no inheritance, which I thought was a pity at the time. Though, now I know that my fate was much more complicated than taking my father's place. I had never much cared for my father, as he was a drunken snob from old money who had never worked a day in his life, but I returned for the sake of my mother, who in her old age, was growing weak and frail.

Had she known the schemes I'd gotten up to in my time away from home, she probably would have beaten me senseless, even with arthritic limbs, but ignorance was bliss for her. She had thrust me out into the world to unlock the heroic potential that she knew lay within me. Perhaps she also had ulterior motives. Perhaps she sought to protect me from my constantly disapproving father, and his favored child, the heir to his name and legacy: my brother.

My brother was Cedric Montgomery Reed III, and he had been my father's favorite child, even after I came along, but I could not imagine why. He was nearly ten years my senior, and that difference in age was further emphasized by our difference in both appearance and behavior. To say that I detested my brother would be a very mild way of wording my feelings toward him. We never got along as children, and as we grew, everything was a competition. The more I emerged victorious, the more jealous he became, and the more terribly he treated me. He had a false sense of superiority, whereas, I truly was superior...and he hated it. It was because of this huge rift between my sibling and myself that I was only too happy to oblige my mother in her order for me to seek adventure away from Oakvale.

By this time, I had already proven myself more proficient with a bow and arrow than any other man I'd faced in Albion, as the firearms in those days were slow and hardly packed the deadly punch that I sometimes required on my adventures. In my vanity, I liked to believe I was so accurate due to my talent and long hours of practice, not due to a magical stroke of luck.

It had been nearly two years since I'd seen my mother, and three times that since I'd returned to Oakvale. Things had changed, yet they had also stayed the same. The farmer's sons that I'd grown up with were now farmers, and they'd taken all of the girls that had been so smitten as young ladies with me as their wives. I'd received quite a few lustful stares of recognition as I made my way toward my childhood home.

Oakvale always had ahistory of standing resolute and growing stronger along the years, and everyone respected the people that called it home. The farmers yeilded the best crops, and the economy in that region thrived with Oakvale's abundance. Only Bowerstone was more affluent and just barely so.

My father had been the most wealthy in the village, and he had other people to make his money for him. He owned the more bountiful farms, and his purse was always full of bursting. He'd taken to drinking just before I was born, and I never knew him as anything else other than a rich, vicious lush with a distaste for most people. I suppose, in that aspect, I eventually did became more like my father in my long years.

Though, his foul temper aside, there were benefits to being his son. Having the last name Reed had granted me a lot of immunity in my years on the road. His gold and his name had shielded me from the world's true cruelty, and I did not even realize it. It wasn't until I abandoned his name that I became well acquainted with the way the world truly worked.

I dreaded having to visit my father's grave, knowing that I would feel nothing. No mourning, no regret. The last time we'd spoken, he'd all but disowned me for becoming acquainted with a woman that he'd planned to procure as Cedric's wife. I would have to be very careful not to spit on his headstone in front of my poor mother.

Even more than that, I dreaded the smug sense of victory my brother would undoubtedly exude from his every pore. In his eyes, he had won. He had the gold, he had the entire town of Oakvale under his thumb, and I would have nothing but my cart of tricks and wares.

I ended up meeting my brother outside of the tavern, as I expected. He had set himself on the same path as my father. He'd grown bald and rather fat in the years past, and I couldn't help but find amusement in it.

I was startled to see that my childhood home, once the most prominent and beautiful house in Oakvale, had fallen into disrepair. As the single wealthiest man in the village, my brother, or my father before him, could have at least kept the house in order. I felt guilt unfurl within me. Perhaps if I had been around, I could have kept a keen on my family's affairs. I later found out that Cedric had convinced my father to invest in some foolish business or another, losing nearly everything, and he fell ill very shortly after.

When we entered, I saw that the inside of the house fared no better. The roof dripped here and there, and the wallpaper was in need of replacement. I remember glaring to my brother, intent on saying something or punching him, but the emergence of my mother down the stairs silenced me.

It is sometimes a curse to, as an immortal, have perfect recollection, for I desperately wish I could forget the state of my mother on that day. She was thin and frail, not much more than pale skin draped over weak and arthritic bones. Her hair, which I remember to be silky waves the color of the sweetest, most buttery caramel had turned stark white and was dull from neglect. Her eyes were ringed with purple bags, but her mouth was held in a tight smile. My mother had once been the most beautiful creature in all of Oakvale, but she had fallen victim to time.

My mother cooed and praised the man I'd become, but it all felt hollow. How could I be a proper man when I'd abandoned my mother to wither away in the care of an utter failure? I can still remember the way she felt in my arms. She was all sharp angles and weak, sagging flesh. Being faced with my mother's mortality, reminded me of my own.

My heart was broken in that moment, seeing my mother so wrought with age, and it made me sick. Seeing my mother, who had been just as vibrant and full of life as I had been...seeing her that way made me realize that my future looked very much the same. It shook me to my very core, and I felt an eternal sort of dread begin to spread through me.

"Cass," My mother had warbled. "Oh, Cass. Welcome home."

My brother, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. As our father had before him, Cedric had arranged a marriage with a woman a few years prior to the family's fall from grace. The daughter of a foreigner from Terre De Saphir. This intrigued me. I had made it there in my travels,and I had always intended on returning. It was a beautiful place full of the finest wine, women, and culture. I could only wonder whether he'd been paired with someone homely and rotten to the core, as he was, or someone beautiful and completely out of his league. All he cared about was the wife he'd managed to procure. He summoned her to parade her before me, and that was when everything changed.

Solange was beautiful. She was absolutely breath-taking with golden hair and bright green eyes that reminded me of the rarest, most beautiful emeralds. I daresay I loved her the instant Cedric summoned her to meet me. She spoke very little of the common tongue, but I spoke her native language fluently. She was absolutely thrilled to have someone to speak to so easily, so freely. I was only too happy to offer my services as a tutor in order to spend more time with this enthralling beauty. It required that I remain in Oakvale much longer than I'd intended, but I was willing to trade adventure for a chance to be near this woman.

She sang often while she cleaned the house, and I found myself lost in her voice that so easily shifted between deep, earthy alto, to a high, heavenly soprano. Solange seemed uncomfortable when we were alone. She always insisted that my mother be present for our lessons, and I had no choice but to indulge her. My advances were unwanted, and in those days, I was a fair bit less persistent. I left her be, content to simply be in her presence, to speak with her about music and art and culture—things she was never able to speak to Cedric about.

It wasn't until my mother was wrought with fever and failed to get out of bed one dreadful morning that I was forced to return to the cold, stark reality of it all. My mother was dying- the only person in the world that remotely cared about me. With my mother gone and Solange's proficiency in our language much better, I would be forced away from Oakvale—forced away from a home I hadn't realized I'd missed.

The very thought of it left me heartbroken. I attempted to ready myself for my mother's death, but I knew that I could never be truly ready for it. She was the one who had raised me, who had nurtured my sharp wit and encouraged an interest in books and history. It was as if she knew Cedric was going to be just like our father, and she poured all of her love and resources into me, molding me into what she hoped would be a good, strong man. It was as if she knew that I would carry the legacy of a Hero in my blood, though there had never been any record of someone with that potential in her family.

She had been the matriarch of the whole town, affecting everyone and everything with her love and devotion. Every one would mourn the loss of my mother, but none so much, so deeply as I would.

I spent the last few days of my mother's life at her side reading to her, talking to her about anything and everything, trying desperately to make her last moments as easy and comfortable as possible. She was near-silent the whole time. Contemplative, it seemed, but I did not press her. I sat at her side and watched old age smother the life from her, constantly sickened by the process, but unable to leave her.

In the final hours of her life, she had taken to murmuring feverishly.

"Not your father..not your father." She squeezed my hand weakly, her eyes trying to convey some deeper meaning that I did not comprehend. I thought perhaps she was urging me to never be like him, to never let myself become idle or slovenly, but before she could explain, the life drained from her, and she was gone.

On the day we buried our mother, my brother was so drunk he was unable to stand in respect. He disgusted me. I wanted nothing more than to strangle the life out of him, to put an arrow through his eye, but I refrained... in my mother's memory. I was forced to sit silently while Cedric did his duty as the scion of our house and eulogized her in slurred, stammering words. It was shameful and the whole of Oakvale was there to witness it.

I thought that nothing would break through my sorrow, but I found that I was wrong. That was the night that Solange came to me and confessed her feelings for me. She told me that she loved me, that she had never cared for Cedric, that she was disgusted with how Cedric had acted at our mother's funeral. She'd loved my mother, she told me, and she thought that she deserved much better than the display Cedric had put on. She said it made her loathe him, and that she no longer wished to spare his feelings. She admitted that she'd been in love with me for a long while.

I was shocked by her revelation, but not entirely shocked. How could Solange possibly love Cedric? Even if he had been as handsome as I was, it was his soul that was rotten. He did not deserve such a beautiful and tender woman. I told her that I had loved her since I first laid eyes on her, and we made love all through the night, while Cedric lay passed out in the tavern. It was wrong, I knew, but I had never felt so alive.

I knew that I needed to leave Oakvale behind, and I planned to take Solange with me. I had the gold to get us to Bowerstone, and in those days, that was so, so far to travel. We would be forced to find passage on a ship or, even worse, make the journey in my cart. It would be slow, but even then, Cedric would never put forth the effort to follow us. I knew him better than that. From Bowerstone, we would be able to go anywhere in the world. I never wanted to lay down roots. I never wanted to stop. With Solange at my side, I was confident I would be home wherever I went.

The morning before our escape, I went to gather my horse and cart, intent on selling them for the remaining gold we would need in the future. Instead of the boy I'd hired to keep track of them, I found a blind woman sitting in the stool that I kept in the back of my cart with a make-shift table spread out before her. She had the audacity to have gone through my things, and she had taken out two of the three, identical cups I used to swindle people out of their coins with a simple sleight of hand.

I demanded to know what she was doing, why she had touched my things, but when she spoke, for some reason, I had the compulsion to listen. Her voice was ethereal and hypnotic, and her white, blank eyes drew me in further. I crouched on the ground in front of her, and I was able to look into her empty eyes as she spoke.

"Cassius Reed," She had said, her wizened, raspy voice chilling me to the core. "Your life is at a crossroads, and you are faced with a choice." She lifted one cup, to reveal a locket that had no business being under it. It was my mother's most treasured possession. It was locket her father had given to her on her wedding day—I had no doubt in my mind. Before I could reach for it, she snapped the cup back down on top of it with a force that would have undoubtedly broken my fingers.

"The Light" The seeress said, taking the cup away once more and lifting the locket. She opened it, revealing perfect renderings of Solange and myself. "If you choose this locket, you will return to your ladylove and leave town tonight as anticipated. You will never make it further than Bowerstone, though. She will find out that she is with child, and you will be trapped forever in Albion, and you will wither and die, an old man that is empty from never having seen the rest of the world."

She lay the locket on the table and returned the cup to its place atop it. Her fingers tapped on both cups before she continued. She lifted the other cup, and beneath it was a plain black disc of metal, too large to be a coin.

"The Dark." Her unseeing eyes found mine, and her voice grew deep and grim. "If you take this seal, you will find yourself in the company of beings able to fulfill your deepest, most selfish desires. Whatever you request, they will grant it, but there will be a steep price." She placed the cup back over the seal softly. "Steeper than most would be willing to pay."

"These beings," I spoke quickly. "Can they grant...immortality?"

Her mouth turned up into a sinister smile. "Oh yes," she said.

"This price you speak of, what is it?" I questioned, excited and intrigued by the promise of never succumbing to death.

"You will never be able to return to Oakvale. The moment you set foot in their domain, there is no turning back. Your family, your friends, Solange will be lost to you forever."

"Why can't I have simply have both?" I placed my hands on both cups. I have not changed so much in all these years that I would not have wanted things both ways. I thought I was clever enough, deserving enough to have my proverbial cake and eat it, too.

"When you choose one, any possibility of having the other will disappear," she said. "You will be locked in your fate."

She was silent for a few moments, as if to let the weight of her words sink in, yet I was not convinced. There had to be a way to have everything. I needed to speak to these beings, but I also needed to be with Solange.

She stood from her place at the stool, and she folded her hands in front of her, those dead, pale eyes boring into my soul. "I will see you again, Cassius Reed, whether you choose the light or the dark. I will visit you, and you will pay me for having read your fortune." She turned and left without another word.

I lifted both cups, and I took the locket in one hand. With the other hand, I snatched up the smooth black seal. I inspected it, and I felt a sudden urge to travel toward the eastern-most gate out of Oakvale, toward a field tucked away on the side of the road. I ignored the compulsion, for the moment, and I hurried home.

I was determined to have both ways, and I thought I was clever enough to avoid any consequences. At the moment, I believed that my days as a confidence man had been leading up to that moment, to pull off the largest scheme of all. I was confident that I would emerge victorious—an immoral with a beautiful woman to love.

I hurried to find Solange, to tell her of my plan to outwit fate, and I promised that we would be together...forever. She seemed daunted by the suggestion of immortality, but she eventually agreed, telling me that forever at my side would be all she could ever wish for. She gathered her things and left to secure passage on a trading ship disembarking that evening.

I packed my things faster than I'd ever packed in my life. I grabbed valuables—mine and my brother's alike—and I soon found myself in my mother's room, unable to bring myself to bring anything valuable of hers. I knew that Cedric would sell her jewelry, her clothes, her hair combs, but part of me wanted to believe that she would be preserved there forever. I remember taking her locket from my coat, and inspecting it, wondering how it had ended up in the seeress' hands, how such accurate pictures of Solange and myself had been painted there, but I was glad to have it. My mother would have wanted me to have it.

Out of sentiment, I also took my mother's journals, hoping to keep a piece of her with me always. It wasn't until years later that I actually read them. They gave clarity to my mother's dying words. Cedric Reed had not, in fact, been my father. My mother'd had a whirlwind romance with a traveler—a Hero, from whom I inherited my Skill, but that is beside the point.

I remember being positively giddy as I finished packing up the rest of my things. I would secure immortality for myself and Solange, and we would be free of Oakvale, and free of Cedric. We would travel the world, undying, and we would watch the future unfold around us. I thought it would be glorious.

As I made my way away from the house I'd been raised in, I found my brother, drunkenly shuffling toward the house as he often did when his purse—and therefore his cup—had run dry. He looked pathetic, his clothes untucked and dirty, and what little bit of hair he had left, sticking out in all directions. His beady black eyes slashed at me with contempt, demanding to know where I was off to.

I informed him that now that our mother was gone, I had no reason to be in Oakvale any longer. I bade him goodbye and good luck. I pressed a purse full of silver into his hand, insisting that the rest of his drinks for the night be on me, and for a moment, he seemed to be pleased with me. We embraced stiffly, and shook hands.

I felt bad for the poor fool, but not bad enough to give up my plan. He would die miserable and alone, as I believed a man like him should. I would take his wife, his dignity, and his future away from him. He would be the last of his line, and no child would have to suffer through his temper and drunkenness as I had suffered through my father's.

Content with leaving my brother in such a state, I followed the driving urge toward the edge of town as dusk claimed the sun, and I found myself in the middle of a field, clutching that odd dark saucer in my hand, feeling rather foolish...until the whispering started.

Soft, voices spoke incomprehensible words in my ear. The words seemed almost welcoming, comforting, but I could not be sure. It was a language I was unfamiliar with, and I could only stand there, waiting to be properly addressed. I swore I could feel the softest of caresses against my skin Unseen fingers combed through my hair, skimmed across the length of my back. It felt like I was being inspected, assessed physically, but now I know better. It wasn't my physique that was being tested. It was my soul, and those dark, terrible creatures found me absolutely adequate.

"Cassius Reed," a deep, disembodied voice crossed over from The Void. "You are worthy of our gifts. What gift would you ask of us?"

"I wish to become immortal," I said quickly, confidently. The words sealed my fate, and changed the course of Albion's history, but I did not yet know that.

"That is within our power," the voice told me. "We can sense that you fear death. You fear the tediousness of old age, and the weakness and sickness that comes with it. There is no greater, nor more selfish fear."

"I would also ask that you make Solange, my lover, my future wife immortal as well," I insisted, feeling rather smug that things were going so smoothly.

There was a pregnant pause, and I could hear the foreign, soft whispering again.

"The woman that will become your wife will, indeed become immortal, but the price you must pay will be severe," The voice said. "You shall not know it until it is paid."

"If you are trying to trick me, I am much more clever than that," I said. Oh, how wrong I was. How very wrong, indeed. I continued on to say, "I wish to remain intact. My looks, my talents, my good fortune."

The voice laughed. "We assure you, the price is something that you would be willing to leave behind, regardless. It is nothing like you assume."

Reassured, I held out my hand to the nothingness, and I offered the seal. I closed my eyes, letting out a breath of relief, and I felt a tight, skeletal grip around my wrist. My eyes flew open, and I laid them upon The Shadow Court for the very first time. They were dark and menacing with burning crimson eyes, and cruel, smiling mouths. They were unlike anything I'd ever seen, and it was then that I knew I made a horrendous mistake.

Before I could protest, The Shadow King was leaning in, pressing his cold, pale lips against mine, breathing the vigor of immortality into my lungs. I could feel the hot rush of life surging through me, and I struggled to break away, to take back what I had promised, but it was done. It could never be undone.

The ground quaked beneath my feet, and I heard the first of the horrible, hair-raising howls as The Shadow King stepped away from me. A chorus of howls was joined by the hair-raising sounds of chaos and pain.

I was disoriented, the heady feeling of immortality taking time to get acquainted with. I dropped to my knees in the dirt, my head spinning, and my stomach churning. The word tilted and moved like a ship in a storm, and I couldn't gather my bearings for a few, dizzy moments.

"Cassius Reed, your business is done, and our prize is claimed," The Shadow King said. "In one year's time, you will return to us with a sacrifice. You will trade their youth and beauty for your own, and you will do this every year." He stepped back to join his two brethren. "If you fail to do this, your life will become forfeit, and you will suffer a fate much greater than those out there."

"Wh-what of Solange?" I stammered pathetically, still not fully grasping the severity of what was being insinuated.

The Shadow King did not answer. He merely laughed. They had tricked me. Lied to me, as I should have known they would. In those days, I did not know that something would never come for nothing There would always be a price.

My heart twisted in my chest, and my gut wrenched. I fled from The Shadow Court, my legs pumping frantically, and my heart pounding in my temples. I looked back over my shoulder as I ran, and the sight was something I could never have imagined in those days. I saw their temple—huge and horrible—splitting the ground, rising from the earth like a wicked, stony weed.

The screams of the townspeople sounded from every direction, and I saw the carnage laid before me as I made my way for the docks. White, ghostly balverines were tearing some limb from limb, while others were tortured by shadowy figures, dancing with delight at their pain. A terrible black waltz with corpses and screaming, living dance partners alike. I tried to pass undetected, but I soon realized that I had protection. I would be immune to this terrible fate because of my bargain with The Shadow Court.

The houses burned, and the people shrieked in pain and horror, and I was to blame. I felt sick. I was forced to ignore the pleas for help as I ran in the direction of the water. It wasn't until I passed my home, burning to a cinder, just as the others around it, that I heard a high, horrible scream of my name.

When I reached the water's edge, I saw the trade ship in flames, and its passengers had been dragged to the water, tortured by the sirens of the old fables. Solange's screams echoed from every direction, but I could not find her. I searched and searched, despite the heavy, disorienting pounding of my head,. While the people of my village died, and the monsters continued their assault, I grew madder and madder. Soon, my own screams joined the dark symphony of terror and torment.

I looked back at Oakvale, and I saw that it was sinking into the black, dying earth. Rain started to pour harder than it had ever poured, but the fires still burned, and there was no relief for my village. Knowing that there was nothing to be done, I let my cowardice take over. I slung my possessions into a nearby rowboat, and I rowed away from the pain, away from the horror, hoping that it would die away as I escaped.

It didn't. I rowed until the tide was able to take me away, and I continued to row until I was far, far away from land in the middle of the churning, black ocean. The chorus of screams and sounds of bones breaking and flesh tearing echoed through my mind. Solange's cries and pleas for mercy joined them, replaying the horrendous night over and over. Exhausted and alone, I wept like a child for my naivety. I wept for Solange, and I even wept for my brother.

I cursed the seeress, for I knew she was well aware of what my fate would ultimately be. Years later, when we met for the second time, I knew that it had all been for her own selfish purposes. She required me. She would use me, as she used your mother, and Hammer and Garth...as she used everyone she ever showed herself to.

I drifted at sea for days, maybe weeks. Unable to die, and without proper food or water, I was left weak and defenseless. I was a blistered, red, husk of a creature when I was spotted by the first mate of a Captain Wilfred's pirate ship—The Dodger. They pulled me aboard, ready to steal my possessions, to slit my throat and be rid of me, until I mustered up my new, endless anger to threaten them.

I told them that there would be hell to pay if they dared to make an attempt on my life. When Captain Wilfred questioned me, I used what little strength and precision I had to fling a dagger from his first mate's belt in his direction. I pierced the helm of the ship, between his fingers, and he laughed with amusement. He said he would keep me around, stating that was the most impressive display of accuracy they'd seen and that they were anxious to see how I fared when I was not exhausted and dehydrated.

When they asked my name, I was ashamed to give my own. I was no longer Cassius Reed, the naïve little boy that had sold the souls of hundreds—nay, thousands—of people to perpetuate his own meaningless life. I could never be that man again. He'd been destroyed along with Oakvale. I had reaved the souls of those people, burned their homes, slaughtered their children. On that day, I gave myself a new name—Reaver.