An Unexpected Return

Evelyn sat upon the throne of Albion, her eyes focused on the words written in dark ink while soldiers lining the walls watched with boredom, waiting for the day to end and have her release them from their tedious shift. The sun was at its highest peak now, light flowing through the clear windows to fall upon the room, absent of shadows.

Through curves and dotted letters, the queen read the words written and recorded in great detail of the one who came before her: Sparrow. Evelyn found it hidden in a secret drawer in the closet of her former bedroom, and had a feeling her mother was expecting her to discover the book. Some of the events that were written down were things that she had never took the time to explain to Evelyn, or was too busy to do so sadly.

Her mother was very sensitive when explaining her journey, from when Teresa first prophesied her future, to the fall of Lucien and disperse of the Heros she was accompanied by. Sparrow spoke everything she was able to gain the knowledge of, recording the histories and time spent with everyone she had met and traveled with. Though she seemed very strong and had an extremity of goodness, the sentences spoke of the pain she suffered in turn of being a Hero, the weight she had bared on her shoulders.

Evelyn connected with what her mother thought when it came to having the divine responsibility of other's lives. At times she to felt as if she couldn't continue with having the character of a Hero, but when she had seen the worse troubles the people in the kingdom were facing, it pained her so much more and gave her confidence. With Teresa's devoid appearance and the Darkness defeated, however, Evelyn was able to rest a little easier and enjoy the life of an average individual.

“I am very delighted to return to a kingdom that is not deceased,” the voice of the pompous man she has so come to forget from the year since his departure. Evelyn quickly closed the leather, burgundy journal as he strutted down the carpet towards her. “I must congratulate you for the /victory/ you have achieved!”

“Reaver. I didn't expect you to return from your errand as soon as within a year,” she replied, ignoring his antagonizing comments on the state of Albion. Holding the journal tightly in her lap, Evelyn examined him. He wore the apparel he had before, the gleaming, ebony cane tapping the floor as he walked. But, his face was different- it was more youthful than it was before. His young appearance hid the grand age he attained; this was definitely the doings of the Shadow Court.

“Ah yes my dear, as did I. The journey has become more /wearying/ and /ingratiating/ every time I take my leave to attend bothering matters. Nevertheless, that's how business is: significant, yet a /nuisance/, sadly, in all forms,” Reaver decided with a wave of his hand, not revealing the reason for his sudden departure when the kingdom was in a time of need and on the verge of battle.

Evelyn knew his awful reason though, so there was no need of explanation from him. Her mother had spoke of how he attempted to sacrifice her to the Shadow Court, and his deal with them to have eternal youth on the price of offering lives. She also discovered he was declared a Pirate King, and a Hero as well. /That explains his outstanding use of guns- most famously the Dragonstomper .48 he keeps beside him constantly What a pity he is crooked; a man would never be able to tell him apart from a Hero and a bandit!/

“Yes, a trip throughout /Wraithmarsh/ is treacherous and tiring, I'm sure anyone would agree with that opinion,” she spoke with anger lightly in her voice, and emphasis on her tongue when she spoke of the terrible Wraithmarsh. The change in Reaver's face was unexpected, as a grin turned into a devious smile with flashing teeth before she even finished hinting.

“Hmmm, the young dove's mind has wandered /far/ from her cage. You know my identity it seems. Ha, I didn't expect you would uncover it so late, honestly,” he chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with interest in the subject. “Share your knowledge of /glorious/ me, please my queen.”

“I know of your compact with the members of the Shadow Court, the sacrifices in turn for everlasting youth. You are a Hero as well as I, and once the notorious Pirate King of legend, possessing five of six Dragonstomper .48s. Once Lucien was defeated, you traveled to Samarkand before returning to Albion and created Reaver Industries to assist Logan and his army, gaining the wealth you adore.”

“Quite impressive I must say; you have done your reading generously on my /scandalous/, /delicious/ life, and I can sense your bewilderment of such accounts,” Reaver smiled graciously, bowing his head slightly. It amazed Evelyn that he hadn't bothered to be furious or at all interested in the fact that she as uncovered his deepest secrets. He now flaunts it effortlessly!

“I also have come to know you are a egocentric, debauched, immoral bastard, that somehow has been granted the gift of living a life! And to aggravate the event, now you will be living forever!” the queen cried, standing from her throne, causing the journal to fall with a thud. His personality irritated her, and someone so heartless stung her senses. She knew he was terrible before, but after reading what her mother wrote, she was sickened to the core. The guards awoken from their bland state of mind, to focus on the conversation between the two attentively.

“I wouldn't speak so harshly with a bitter tongue towards me- your being /rash/, love,” Reaver hissed, his face inching towards her as he spoke more quietly so the guards would not hear the accusations. They would most likely arrest him for treason, or he'd be fined, but avoiding that was better than anything. “Immortality has become a /burden/, more than you could comprehend. I wouldn't judge the unknown; the sacrifices made cannot be /denied/ or /repaired/, your highness.”

Evelyn stared into his frigid glare of darkness, blocking out the light within. Did the man standing before her, who was cold-blooded and possessed an unrighteous stance admit to..... regretting the choices he has made in the past?

“I- I apologize for my lack of sensitivity, Reaver,” she corrected, trying to move the topic of the conversation to something else that didn't cause guilt or pain between the two of them. Evelyn took her seat on the throne again, and he fixed his posture to straight stance, leaning on one leg. “Oh, before you leave, I would like to make a request for Reaver Industries to fulfill. That is, if you have decided to continue to run the company once again.”

“A request? Why, my queen, I will make use of an arrangement at once! That is, if the pay is /sonorous/ of course, I cannot have myself doing the appalling actions of /volunteering/.”

“Hmph, of course not,” she mocked, only receiving the nod of the head and a devious grin once again. “I would like to have something built where I can spend time away from Albion- a place of contemplation and bliss. In the gardens behind the castle, I would like to have you build me a gazebo in the Second Quarter.”

Evelyn finished her proposition, watching Reaver's expressions as they formed a sort of approval in her request. She should have known he would have been eager to begin collaborating under her position once again. Fortune is always welcomed in his tainted mind after all.

“/Perfect/. My peasants will begin construction immediately tomorrow, while I shall map out the plans when I return to my manor, your highness,” Reaver smirked, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm and pleasure in the thought of receiving a hefty pay near the day of his arrival. “Unfortunately I must depart from this /marvelous/ reunion; my servants are repairing my former mansion in Millfields, and I do hope it is polished now. /Tatty-bye/!”

Ending the conversation, he took Evelyn's hand and placed a gentle kiss upon the top, before turning around and taking his leave. Exhausted, she went to her private bedroom and laid down upon the silk covers, the dog laid beside the bed. She closed her eyes, but not her mind as it began to wander.

/Reaver is obviously pained by the past he had created. The words he confided frustratedly sting with regret: “Immortality has become a burden, more than you could comprehend. I wouldn't judge the unknown; the sacrifices made cannot be denied or repaired, your highness.”/

Surely he must have been petrified when he realized his home, Oakvale, was destroyed due to only benefiting him. The Shadow Court is a force that is not to be served, and now word from Mourningwood tells of it hiding in the darkness, poisoning the area as it forms there. I must deal with this soon; I cannot have this reoccurring incident happen to anyone else of my subjects.

/The way he masks himself changes everything I have ever decided to judge him on. If only I would have known before, I don't know what I would have done. This bothering me, but why! Evelyn, you must not forget that Reaver is evil, wronged, and only cares for what he can gain, whether he was good soul in the beginning! I cannot put all the blame on the Shadow Court for his growing wickedness. If I ever spoke of my concern for the situation he has fallen into anyways, he would dismiss it and call me a mad Hobbe./

/I wonder what my mother would have done...... I don't know. I will forget about this nonsense now, as there is more significant things to handle. I'm sure I shall hear from Page once word reaches her of his sudden return./