A trace of Time - Part 1

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/andrewbrumby

The Promises I made have led an empire to the brink of collapse. The Whispers I spoke have helped a king betray his kingdom. My honour made me a thief. My loyalty made me a killer. I wrapped a thousand souls around my father’s neck; now, to save my own, I must take them back…
Rever gripped the throat of his hatchet and flung it blindly across the room towards his bedpost, turning in time to see the blade embed itself into the wooden finial; a carving of a crowned head. He found it provoking that, in the twenty-seven years he’d spent nights in this room, only on his last had he been so bold as to deface either one of the ornaments placed above his bed.
He sat straddling the open window; one foot hanging out over the edge, becoming accustomed to the harrowing drop below. A gentle breeze played with the curtains on either side as it breathed into the room; it was rarely cold here in Fyrcite, but this night had an unusual chill that did well to alleviate the smothering heat of the day. There would be many open windows on the spire tonight; it was unlikely that anyone would go out of their way to shut one this high up, where the risk of intrusion was…improbable.