Vallen: The Marking (Vallen series #1)

Chapter 47

Eldon handed me the other half of his sandwich. We were in our favourite corner of the library, sitting on the ground with our backs against the cold wall. Alaric wasn't here with us, he refused to speak to Eldon though he had apologised for punching me. My jaw had a small blue bruise on it, but it hardly hurt. I had already forgiven him, it wasn't his intention to hurt me.

"What if we use the dagger to talk with the heroes again?" Eldon said. I had told him everything Dehaven had told me. We had been searching through the library all morning, but nothing had come up yet. Mainly because we didn't know what category the artefacts would fall under. Was it history, mythology, divine studies or something else completely? The library was incredibly organised, yet if you didn't know where to start it was almost a lost cause. 

"What if whoever stole the scrolls wants the dagger to talk to the heroes?" I offered up. "The heroes will just kill me again when they want to speak to me, the dagger isn't any use to us."

"Well we could certainly use more information, so having a way to contact them is definitely useful." Eldon countered. We both started eating our sandwich, Eldon a bit more enthusiastic than me, while we pondered over the situation. There were still too many unanswered questions. 

It reminded me of playing sudoku with my mom. If the game was too hard, it seemed like guessing was the only option. But once you go with your guess, which really was just luck, you could base your entire game off of a bad number. It's one thing to mess up a sudoku, but when it's about the whole Vallen race... 

"We need to figure out who we are fighting against." I finally said. That was the most important unanswered question thus far. We figured out that the dagger was the clue the Heroes wanted me to find, but it would all be completely useless unless we figured out who wanted to steal the dagger.

"I am guessing the old king." Eldon answered. "Oma always told me that she never bought Granville's story." 

"Who is that?" I asked, taking the last bite of my sandwich. Eldon started playing around with a loose hem on my skirt.

"He was one of the commanders during the rebellion. They were in charge the first few years after the war." He explained, tying a knot in the string. "Granville told the public that the commanding general who killed the king didn't want the body to be passed around. Apparently he was nordic and felt that even though the king made his mistakes, he fought honourably and deserved to go to Walhalla."

"Sounds fair?" I said. 

"Most nordic men still uphold old Viking rituals," Eldon told me. "But very few still believe in Walhalla. That is the place Vikings go when they die, not Vallen."  

Eldon's finger would occasionally brush against my leg. I wasn't sure if he did it on purpose, but it made focussing on his story a bit more difficult. So Granville most likely lied, which means that either the king isn't confirmed dead, it really could have happened but no one reported it, or that he was still alive. 

"Is this Granville dude still around?" I asked. 

"He trains warriors now." Eldon said. "But even if we ask him what really happened, he wouldn't say it. Thousands of people have asked him, brought up every living theory under the sun as to what really happened. He never told them."

"We'll write to him." I decided. Eldon was about to object but I cut him off. "Thousands of people, I heard you. But none of those thousand people could speak with the Heroes. Let's test the theory if I am really that intimidating."

We left the library for about five minutes to get the official school paper. We decided that going to the far back was overkill at this point, there were no students in the study places. He sat across from me while I grabbed a pen.

'Dear commander Granville,

My name is Eira Lovell and I am a student here at Woodville castle. I hope that my name carries some weight to you, but if it doesn't I would like for you to know that I am the student with the level ten gift of speaking to the heroes. 

I am writing to you today to discuss the events of December fifteenth, 1999. The final battle in the Red Revolution. You told the public a few days later that the King's body was buried in a Potter's field, in an unmarked grave. I urge you to tell me the location of his grave. Or to tell me what really happened to the late king.

This is a matter of the heroes. I speak on their behalf. If you do not trust this information in a letter, know that you are welcome to meet me in Woodville castle or in the city of Welkis. 

Eira Lovell'

"Nice." Eldon read the letter after I had written it down. "Vaguely threatening, perfect for a military man."

His fingers brushed over mine again when he handed the letter back to me. I was sure that it wasn't an accident now.