Page 69 of Revert
A mural—once hidden beneath dust and time—emerged from the stone, muted colors shimmering with age, as though it had waited centuries to be seen again. Though time had worn most of the colors to ash and ivory, hints of silver and gold gleamed beneath the surface.
Castiel stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “That wasn’t here before. Is this the same one?—?”
My breath caught in recognition. This wasn’t one of the hidden fragments recovered from the timelines I’d forgotten; this chamber had safeguarded across time and space, but from the memories of the life I still remembered, the timeline I’d just lived.
I had seen this mural before, the very one we had stumbled upon the night Castiel caught me in the castle’s restricted corridor…the same wing where, in a past life, he had once killed me. That moment when he made a different choice had not only planted the first seed of tentative trust between us, but woven a discovery I hadn’t fully understood at the time:
A mosaic sprawled across the wall, depicting spirals, loops, and hourglass-like sigils overlaid on the shadowed silhouettesof kingdoms—some familiar, others unrecognizable, a mural of time itself.
Near it stood a pedestal carved from dark stone, inlaid with silver channels etched into the same spiral sigil I’d glimpsed throughout this archive of recollection showcasing the history of my investigations—whether concealed between the pages of old tomes, or carved into the palace architecture, always half-concealed.
The symbol had always called to me, a silent, beckoning whisper. Once again I felt the same pull—the same invisible thread wrapping around me, drawing me forward.
The air shifted the moment I touched it, a soft, rhythmic glow stirred beneath my palm as a whisper curled through my thoughts: one path unmade, one path undone…
“One path unmade, one path undone…” I whispered the words aloud, as if the act could uncover the answers that still eluded me. I stood at the edge of something, but the meaning danced just beyond my reach, some final piece I hadn’t yet found in the puzzle laid before me.
Castiel stepped closer, gaze fixed on the mural. “I never told you at the time, but I couldn’t understand how you discovered this mural…or how it even existed outside the Chamber of Timelines. It was as if this roomwantedyou to find it, even though it only appears to those who carry the bloodline possessing the ability to wield its power.”
I turned towards him, heart pounding. “The bloodline…to wield its power?”
His eyes searched mine as he nodded. “Since that night, I started researching your genealogy. I never looked too deeply into the king’s reasons for arranging our match. But the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.”
His eyes searched mine. “Like I mentioned earlier, my father chose my bride from a very specific family. Though you are theperfect leverage against me, for all your rebellion he never killed you, even though he had every opportunity to create an alternate timeline that would erase your existence forever.”
I frowned. “But hedidkill me,” I reminded him. “Even if it wasn’t permanent. He was boasting about it just before he reversed time.”
Castiel stiffened, his eyes flashing. “Those are my worst memories,” he said in a low voice. “I’m thankful you cannot recall them.”
I hesitated, wondering how to ask my question without causing him pain. “Why is there no mark from that death? I have a scar from the time I—you?—”
His eyes widened for a moment before his gaze dropped. He took a slow breath. “I didn’t realize that, but I suppose it makes sense. Time magic always leaves evidence behind of every timeline it’s undone. Just as your memories were preserved because you…died at the entrance to the Time Chamber, the physical mark remained as well. But your encounters with the king were always elsewhere’ I think he was afraid to have you close to the chamber, just in case its magic allowed you to remember the timeline before.”
“If he is so distrustful of me, why do you think he never attempted to remove me entirely?” I wondered.
“Despite the risk, he must have had a motive for preserving you—he never does anything without reason, which means…”
“…he has a strong motive to keep me alive.” My heart seized at the thought, and then another idea occurred to me. “He truly wasn’t involved in the assassination attempt. Why would Lord Ravenhurst have wanted me dead, if it wasn’t under the direction of the king?”
“I don’t know entirely.” Castiel’s hand brushed against his dagger as though recalling the moment he had defended me.“But my father has long suspected that he has ties to a revolutionary group in multiple other kingdoms.”
“Like…Myrielle?” My voice was faint.
“All I know for sure is that I saw him near your fox-masked contact on multiple occasions at the masquerade, and it looked like a slip of paper was exchanged, though I couldn’t be positive.”
I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I had just learned that the cause I’d spent years advancing was nothing more than an attempt to seize power, and now it seemed that they’d tried to kill me.
“Why would my own countrymen want me dead?” I asked. “I took countless risks for them.”
“Didn’t your contact warn you about becoming too close to me?”
I looked up sharply. “You heard that?”
He shrugged. “I suspected he didn’t have your best interests at heart.”
“Unfortunately, it appears you were right.” The betrayal was sharp, and would take time to work through the complicated emotions it’d stirred. “But I still don’t understand. Why would they kill me before I found the artifact they wanted?”
“I can only guess that they were no longer certain of your allegiance and feared that you might be sharing information with me.” He considered further. “Or perhaps their mission was compromised in some way, and they suspected killing you would guarantee I would reset the timeline in order to save you, providing them another opportunity to fulfill their purpose.”
