Chapter 26

  The following silence was one of the longest ones of my life. This was the first time I’d willingly told someone who I was, not counting my moment with John Holiday. The Marshal had already known who I was, somehow, and had simply made me confirm the fact. But here, and now, telling Emma, it was something I’d never done before. Ever since that day, more than ten years ago, when my parents had burned, and Randal and I had fled, I’d been someone else. Anyone else.

  “Davenport,” Emma said my last name softly, the hint of a question in the tone that she said it. “I remember my father mentioning a rail baron by the name once. Said they’d perished in a terrible accident.” She paused, and I couldn’t help but look at her. She locked eyes with me, and I could see she was putting it together. “He said they’d had a son just a bit younger than me. Said he died as well. But” another pause, and I couldn’t look away. “That was you, wasn’t it?” I shivered once more, and this time it wasn’t from cold, nor the pain of my body.

  “Yes,” I croaked. It was equally terrifying, and yet somehow freeing to tell her the truth. To have it be known who I was. It had always been something I’d considered. That Emma, given her father had been a rail baron before his death, and the fact her uncle was one of the most notorious rail barons, that she may know of the other such families. The families that vied for wealth and power, that scrambled and competed for the vast riches that the burgeoning rail industry offered. My father had been on the up and up, far as I could remember. If he’d not died that day, there was a good chance he, we, could have been one of the wealthiest families in all of America by now.

  “And you kept your name hidden because it wasn’t an accident?” Emma surmised. She knew how the world worked, especially when it came to the rail barons. It wasn’t unheard of for the families to go after competitors. And it wasn’t that uncommon for potential upstarts to, well, find themselves the holders of a one-way ticket to an early grave. “Your family was murdered.”

  The statement was grim, and it wasn’t completely off the mark. “Yes, and no.” I answered, watching her face register my words. For all her intelligence, all her insight, this time, I knew, she wouldn’t be able to figure out the truth without a little help from me. I took one more breath, feeling what I was about to do was probably the dumbest thing I’d done to date. However, with pain addling my mind, and more than that, with the somewhat euphoric moment of lightness that had overcome me by telling her the truth of my name, I decided Emma, at the very least, could know the truth. The whole truth.

  “What I’m about to tell you,” I began, tone serious, “I’ve never told another soul. And I need you to promise me, Emma, that you’ll take my secrets to the grave. I’m going to trust you, in a way I’ve never trusted anyone else before. And, if you betray that trust…” my voice was grim as I let the threat hang. It was Emma’s turn to shiver.

  “I won’t,” she said after a moment. “I’ll keep your secrets and ask then that you do the same for me, in turn. Figure, people like us, well,” she chuckled darkly, “figure people like us only get the chance to trust, truly trust, a few people in life after all. You helped me out, and saved my life, clear as I see it, with regards to the Pickam situation. And, like I said, you’re predictable. Which,” she smiled at me, and it was a pure, genuine smile, “that nature of yours makes me feel you, just might be, the only other person I can trust in this world right now, aside from Clint.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I glanced towards the wagon, where that particular individual snored away. Maybe I would tell Clint the truth too. Though, not just yet. I trusted him, sure, but spilling secrets wasn’t something you did on a regular basis. I'd tell Emma, because I’d already begun, and because, well, I had a feeling there was more to her, more she could teach me and show me, if we understood each other better. Now seemed the right time, to tell her who I was. Clint could wait till later.

  “My family was murdered; in that they died prematurely. I can’t say with full conviction though, that they were meant to die. Had they not fought back, had they not tried to protect me,” anger filled me as I spoke the next words, “I think they may have been spared.”

  “Protect you? Was someone attempting to kidnap you? To use you to hold as ransom?” It wasn’t unheard of. Children were easy targets. And rich families would pay to see their heirs returned safely. It was also why families would resort to hiring bodyguards for their children once they reached an age that saw them leaving the protections of their home.

  “Kidnap feels a bit tame for the situation,” I said bitterly, “and it wasn’t for a ransom.” I spit into the flames, “and it wasn’t a rival rail baron, nor some criminals looking for easy money.”

  “Then who?” Emma pressed. “And why?”

  “The government, that’s who.” I answered, letting my full distaste for the government fill my voice. “Bastards learned about my affinities and sent members of the military to take me away. They wanted to use me as a weapon, and my fool of a father tried to stop ‘em by force.” I shook my head, “if not for Randal, I’d likely have died that day along with my parents, and the bastards who’d tried to steal me away. Lot of good that would have done the government then. Though,” I chuckled, and it was a dark sound, “far as they needed to know, I did die that day.”

  “They tried to steal you, because of your dual affinity?” Emma asked softly, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Wouldn’t they have been better off protecting you, and helping you ascend? With dual affinities, you could have easily become something great. And it’s rare, sure, but… to kill your family to try and get you? That sounds too…drastic.”

  I let out another dark laugh. “Dual affinities, sure. Maybe someone blessed with dual affinities would get to live the life of privilege at the government’s hand. After all, as you said, dual affinities are rare, but they’re still not unheard of. Such a drastic handling of the situation doesn’t make sense, does it.” My mood was bitter. “If only I’d been born with just dual affinities, maybe my family would have been fine. Maybe my parents would still be alive. Hell, maybe you and I would have met under better circumstances, one without the need for lies and aliases.” I spat into the flames, “maybe if I’d not been cursed, I would have gotten to live a fucking blessed life.”

  “You make it sound like you don’t have dual affinities,” Emma began slowly, “but I’ve seen firsthand that you can use fire, and wind mana.” She paused, her eyes going wide as saucers as she looked at me. Her voice went from a whisper, to barely a breath. “Don’t tell me, you can use three affinities?”

  I sucked on my tongue, “wrong again Emma.”

  She stared at me, and I saw the disbelief in her eyes. Then, this time, she didn’t even speak, she merely mouthed the word and held up four fingers. I nodded, and you would have thought I’d just told her ghosts were real.

  I spit once more into the flames and looked back up into the sky. “So, there you have,” I said, “my biggest secrets. Now that I’ve told you a little more about myself, and while I figure you take the time to process the truth, how about you tell me a little more about yourself?”

  “Ask whatever you’d like,” Emma said, her voice holding a distant tone. It was clear she was still trying to wrap her head around what I’d just told her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she thought I was lying. Though, considering the situation, and everything she’d seen of me so far, I had a feeling she believed me. It was just the sensible side of her, the logical side, that was likely struggling with my existence. After all, someone with dual affinities was damn near the thing of folk tales. Someone with all four, well that right there was pure fiction.

  “Alright then,” I said, thinking for just a moment, before I came up with a good one. “How’d you get so good with that sword of yours?”