Assassin's Creed Revelations

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Lady Anya led us into a room situated towards the end of the main hallway. It was hard to describe what looked like yards and yards of glowing words floating around us. Some were bright, some were dim, while some looked disjointed—if words could ever be disjointed. The room itself wasn't very grand, but its contents more than made up for its lack in architectural brilliance.

Tentatively, I extended a hand and tried to catch a fleeting word—Anna, or something like that. But it dissolved once my hand passed through it, and proceeded to float by while mending itself together.

"What is this place?" I asked. My voice was a reverent whisper, barely audible.

"It's where we keep all records of sorcerers, their Affinities, and so on." Lady Anya waved a hand, and a few words drifted over to her. She cradled them in her palm, holding them out to me. "These are the records of your precious Lord Himmel."

I tried to ignore the deliberate tactlessness in her tone. I squinted at the words. I wasn't quite an expert on reading—my training had little to do with it—but I could just make them out: Markus Himmel, Nullifier.

"So the records of all sorcerers are kept here," I breathed, amazed.

"In case you didn't hear what I said, yes." She swept her free hand around her. "There used to be a lot more in here," she sighed, the lines in her face suddenly deepening. Although I placed her to be in her mid-forties in terms of appearance, she looked like she had lived through the centuries, seen every horror the world had to offer, and survived.

I tore my eyes away from her, staring at the words dancing in the space above her hand. "So what can these...records do, exactly?" I asked.

Her lips twisted into something akin to amusement. "It basically connects the sorcerer to our Fountain here in Starkfurt. Not bind, mind you. Just connects. So whatever the sorcerer does is automatically recorded. You can access the memories of an individual here"—she jabbed an experimental finger at the letter 'M'—"by casting a specific spell."

"You can sift through memories here," I realised. A sudden chord struck my mind. Josef's plans...Should I stick with them? After all, his strategy was fairly fool proof. All I had to do was execute it. How hard could that be?

If only I could somehow manage to trick Lord Himmel for a few precious moments while I demanded a presence with the Council. But would the Council members even believe what I had to say? I could, of course, ask that they cast a truthtelling spell upon me. However, I was walking on a thin line here—one that threatened to snap at any moment. Rumour was that the Council composed of strict, law-abiding set Magi, who had no tolerance for protocol breaking, even if it was a matter of utter importance.

Suddenly, the plan didn't seem as sound as it was when Josef had first proposed it to me.

"Thank you for the demonstration, Lady Anya," Lord Himmel cut in. He had a frosty look resting upon his brow. He blew towards her, and the words puffed away. Lady Anya frowned at him. "If you would be so kind to get on with the actual point of this little tour?"

"You have duties to attend to, Lord Himmel?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he replied evenly. I shot him a quick look; he returned it with a smile. My brows scrunched together in confusion. He'd said that we would remain in Starkfurt for at least a night, if only to recuperate and spend two days out of the sodding wastelands. In fact, he'd promised me that he'd already informed the Council of our stay.

But of course, he was the Pied Piper. I couldn't take any of his words at face value.

I gave an inward groan. This sudden change could throw a wrench into Josef's plan. As flimsy as it seemed, it was the only thing I had. Subconsciously, my fingers slipped into my pouch, brushing against the vial he had given me. It was a comforting weight by my side, my anchor to reality over here.

"Hmm, all right." Lady Anya turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

Lord Himmel followed her without hesitation; I trailed behind automatically, in a daze. What on earth were they doing? Weren't we supposed to record my name in that room? Where were we going? I wanted to scream those questions aloud, except that I might earn a repercussion from Lady Anya instead of answers.

We headed back down where we had come from, before turning sharply into a hallway on our left. Then we veered down a right corner. Then we took the left path when we arrived at a crossways. Lady Anya was leading us through a maze, I thought as I limped heavily behind my two companions. They were up front, chatting away in amiable tones, speaking of the plague and the weather and other such small talk.

We eventually approached a set of stairs. I craned my head upwards; they spiralled dizzyingly towards the Heavens. I choked back a gulp, sweat soaking the back of my dress. My bad leg was throbbing steadily, threatening to scream in pain if I continued any further.

"Lo – Markus," I called out.

He whipped his head around. Then as though he had just remembered me, his eyes gleamed with a strange light. "Lady Anya, if you would forgive us, but my fiancé might have a little...trouble heading up the tower," he said. His words held just the right amount of apology in it. "If you wouldn't mind..."

"Of course not," said Lady Anya. "Very remiss of me to not have considered my guest. My apologies."

"No worries," I said, smiling. I leaned against the wall to take some of the weight off my leg.

From inside the sumptuous drapes of her left sleeve, she drew out a matchbox. My eyes widened in curiosity. She deftly took out a match and coaxed a small flame. Then she returned the matchbox to the insides of her sleeve. The flame burned a strange, bright blue. It was entrancing—it danced to an unheard tune, flickering and bouncing with whispers and ghosts of the past.

She waved a hand over it; the flame separated from the match and settled above her palm. She cradled it like she had done with the floating words. Then, she started to motion with her hands. The flame expanded till it was a miniature, roaring bonfire. But there was no heat. I didn't shy away from it. Lady Anya was controlling the fire itself, an element which had destroyed Olsterhein. Yet over here, it was simply a tool—a means for a sorcerer to cast her spell.

The fire took on a vaguely humanoid shape. Lady Anya pushed it towards me with her hands. I didn't try to dodge it. It melded into my body. Energy filled my limbs; I felt like I had just woken up after a winter's hibernation. For a moment, I could have sworn that my limp had been completely healed.

"Come," said Lady Anya, ascending the stairs. I gawped, still in awe of the spell she had cast, but I obeyed. We climbed the stairs.

A few minutes went by in silence. Then Lord Himmel spoke: "Just in case you haven't noticed, Klaudia, Lady Anya's Medium is fire. She has a natural talent for physical healing."

"And yet my Affinity is memory-sifting." I could hear the smile in the woman's voice.

"You can sift through memories?" Excitement buzzed in my limbs, adrenaline lending even more energy to me. "In human minds?"

"Why, yes." She threw a look over her shoulder. Again, that puzzled, scrutinising gaze settled on me. The one that made me uneasiness crawl up my spine. Now though, that gaze held something deeper in it, as though she were trying to gauge my past, see through my mind, determine my place in the world. "That's why I've always been tasked with keeping the records."

She turned her attention back upon the steps. "Your Affinity..." I trailed off, rephrasing my question in my head. "But your Medium is something physical, is it not? And yet your Affinity is associated with mental magic." I then added, "Your Grace." Just in case.

"On the contrary. Fire is a physical element, yes. However, most of its associated sorcerers have Affinities tied in with...the unknowns, so to speak," she replied. "Seekers, Seers, Readers—plenty of them are children of fire."

"I see."

I saw Lady Anya give Lord Himmel a long, hard look. She seemed to be silently asking if I had truly gained an Affinity of my own, if I had actually drank from Saint Bromilde's Fountain. Lord Himmel offered her an apologetic smile. She held back a disgusted snort. Her body language said that she thought he was mad.

Perhaps Lord Himmel truly was mad. No one in their proper senses would steal children in order to drain their youth, much less allow a fledgling Magus to undergo a trial that could very well cost her life.

But he would have to be a damned clever madman to have gotten away with such activities for the past century and not be detected by the Council. At all.

"We're here," announced Lady Anya, and sure enough, I found myself standing on flat, solid ground. We were at the top of the tower—that I could see from the sheer drop outside the window. I swallowed my fear and ducked my head back under the safety of the roof. A single door sat before us, its structure intimidating and ancient.

Lady Anya drew a key out of her sleeve—how many things did the woman keep in there?—and opened the door. She pinned herself against one side, allowing us to pass through first.

The room was in the shape of a half-circle—the other half of the landing outside, I assumed. A table sat in the centre, and several objects were spread across it: a pestle and mortar, an unrecognisable heap of herbs, and several other metal tools arranged on a white cloth. Other than that, there was nothing in the room. It smelt of use and magic; it sang of past incidents and untold tales. I shivered and eyed the objects uneasily. What were they for?

"Come along – Klaudia, is it?" I nodded at Lady Anya. Fear had frozen my tongue in its place, and I couldn't make a single squeak. She walked towards the table. I looked around, noting that the door was firmly closed and locked. Lord Himmel lurked in a corner, bobbing his head and looking very much pleased with himself, all the while drinking in the scene with eager eyes and flashing a reassuring grin at me.

At least, it was supposed to be reassuring. I had a gut feeling that it was he who had arranged for...this, whatever it was.

"Klaudia, come," said Lady Anya, steel in her voice. I realised that I hadn't moved from my spot at all, and I quickly scurried to her side. My head was ducked low, and I carefully kept my eyes pinned onto the ground: solid, unpolished stone. Like the rest of the tower. Unbreakable, suffocating stone.

I felt trapped. My breathing became hitched.

"What – what are you doing?" I rasped when she seized my wrist. I wrenched it out of her grip, startled. She glowered, her steel-grey eyes boring into me.

"Testing for your Affinity, of course," she said. I raised a brow at Lord Himmel. "Oh saints, he didn't tell you? Of course not. He's always kept his little secrets to himself," she muttered.

"L – Markus? What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing you should worry about, Klaudia dear." His grin widened. "Lady Anya will test for your Affinity, that's all."

"What?" At my sharp tone, I immediately checked myself: "I mean, why is this necessary? I thought – Saint Bromilde had already given me my Affinity."

"Oh no, it's nothing to worry about," said Lord Himmel. "Just a reconfirmation of your ability."

"Markus..." I said helplessly. He knew—oh Saints Above, he knew. He knew that my Affinity wasn't nullifying. But how? Unless...that day when I'd used my power over Elise and Frederick. Of course! Seeker Magdalena had sensed me when I was unconsciously using magic—what more when I was consciously using it? I felt like curling up into a ball and crying.

Why couldn't Josef foresee this? He was supposed to be the one who thought of everything, calculated every possibility.

No. it wasn't his burden to bear in the first place, I chided myself mentally, feeling guilty for blaming Josef for my current predicament. No one could have seen this coming.

I locked eyes with Lord Himmel; they gleamed dangerously. Sadistic pleasure tugged the corners of his mouth; he leaned lazily against the wall, as though he were a cat watching its prey slowly being cornered.

"Don't worry, my dear Klaudia," he said, unfazed by my weak protests. "It'll all be over soon."

"Well?" interrupted Lady Anya. She looked mildly irritated. "Are we going to proceed with this? You're lucky that I so happen to be the only Council member who's free enough to entertain the two of you. I doubt if Lord Berne would be as patient."

"My apologies for taking up your time," I said crisply. If I couldn't wriggle out of this situation, I might as well go through it. I squared my shoulders and attempted to make myself look as tall and as confident as possible. "Carry on, Lady Anya."

"Your wrist, please."

Somewhat reluctantly, I held out the wrist she'd grabbed. I suppressed an urge to tear myself free of her grasp, but held myself still. Her grip was gentler this time; a small nod from her indicated that she understood my fear of being touched.

She held my hand over the clay bowl. Then she took up a knife, handling it almost too casually. "This might hurt a bit."

Even though she gave a fair warning, I flinched when she drew the blade across my wrist. Blood immediately welled up at the wound; I clamped down on my tongue to suppress a cry of shock. She flipped my wrist around, allowing the blood to drip into the bowl. Once she was satisfied, she released my hand and gestured for me to heal myself.

While I hummed and felt my skin knitting itself together, Lady Anya plucked out several leaves from the various herbs and threw them into the bowl. She worked methodically, not a hint of hesitation showed in her flying hands. She started grinding them all together, the metallic tang of blood and the organic, earthy scent of the herbs combining to give off a peculiar smell.

When the ingredients were all sufficiently mixed, she drew the matchbox out of her sleeve again, striking a match. She threw the match into the bowl, and the mixture crackled in flames. I watched the embers dance with the rising smoke, curling and entwining together, caught up in a fierce, merry allemande. Cold sweat beaded down my forehead.

Lady Anya chanted under her breath: alien, mystifying words which sang of the unknowns. It was the same language Lord Himmel had used when he'd performed the cleansing ritual. But it had a different rhythm; this was something simpler, easier to understand. It didn't hide the fact that it was about to doom me to whatever Lord Himmel had in store though.

A gasp suddenly escaped the woman's lips. Her eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking despite the fact that smoke was drifting towards her. Then she caught herself, and pinned her gaze onto me. Her pupils were slightly dilated.

Her next words came like an avalanche, sending a hollow punch into my gut: "Saints above, your Affinity is mind-control."

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