Shattered Sanity

(Meanwhile Mary)

Mary had a wildly different reaction to Riven’s fight than the others around her, as while most of the nobles seemed disgusted by his method of victory, she saw within it a kind of savagery that felt strangely familiar.

The aggression with which he fought, his frightening indifference towards pain and the desperation behind some of his decisions did not resemble the refined combat style Mary expected from someone raised within one of the Four Great Ducal Houses.

Riven fought as though losing carried consequences far greater than embarrassment, reputation or the result of an exhibition match, and to Mary, that aggression seemed more characteristic of someone who had spent a considerable portion of his life fighting to survive.

’It was almost like.... He could not allow himself to lose, no matter what.

Afterall, who doesn’t want to be adored by the crowd?

Who doesn’t want to fight with honor if they can?

He definitely did not have the luxury to do so....’

Mary thought, as to her, the Riven she saw today seemed like someone who understood what it meant to be hurt and keep fighting regardless.

And although none of that proved anything regarding his identity, it certainly gave Mary another reason to question everything she had learned about him since arriving at the Academy.

’But he still doesn’t fight like the Riven I remember...’ Mary thought, as her eyes remained fixed upon the passage through which Riven had disappeared only moments earlier.

The Riven she remembered from Ashfang had fought with a sword, and although circumstances had occasionally forced aggression out of him, Mary could not remember ever seeing the same viciousness she witnessed inside the arena today.

Then again, the Riven she remembered had never possessed anything remotely resembling Riven Dawnriver’s current physical strength, nor had he wielded a halberd or fought with the confidence required to deliberately allow a sword to pierce through his own palm.

There were differences.

Far too many differences for Mary to simply look at him and convince herself that the boy she once knew had somehow survived everything that happened after they left Ashfang and eventually become the heir of House Dawnriver.

Yet after everything she witnessed today, dismissing the possibility entirely no longer felt quite as easy either.

’I don’t know...’ Mary thought, as she struggled to decide what she was supposed to believe anymore.

She had entered the arena hoping that watching Riven fight today would finally settle the question that had been bothering her ever since the appraisal ceremony, believing there would be something within his movements that either confirmed her suspicions or allowed her to abandon them completely.

However, instead of clarity, Mary somehow felt even more confused than she had before walking through the arena doors.

Almost everything she had learned about Riven Dawnriver pointed towards him being someone entirely different from Riven Veyr, yet what she witnessed inside the battleground had shifted the equation within her mind back towards the middle.

For now, she could neither convince herself that Riven Dawnriver was the boy she remembered nor confidently accept that he was not, leaving her with considerably more to think about than she wanted.

—-----------

(Meanwhile Vice Principal Chadwick)

Meanwhile, back in his office, Professor Chadwick too felt perplexed by the conclusion of Riven and Gary’s bout, as after watching the entire fight through a magic crystal, he still could not decisively determine whether Riven Dawnriver was truly the noble his father claimed him to be or not?

The problem was that the story surrounding Riven’s childhood accounted surprisingly well for much of the behaviour Chadwick found suspicious.

According to the information provided by House Dawnriver, Riven had spent most of his childhood beyond the borders of the Valdrak Empire, where he was raised within an isolated forest under the tutelage of a wandering Ascendant.

His mother, meanwhile, had supposedly been a minor noblewoman, which provided a perfectly reasonable explanation for the refined speech and mannerisms Riven displayed despite his unusual upbringing.

’He could have learned his manners from his mother and his approach to combat from the wandering Ascendant...’ Chadwick calculated, as he replayed portions of the fight within his mind.

If the Ascendant responsible for training Riven had been particularly ruthless, then there was nothing inherently impossible about the boy developing the savage approach to combat he displayed today.

That was precisely what made his origins so frustratingly difficult to verify.

Nobody could simply walk into White Castle and demand that Duke Drew Dawnriver prove the identity of a child he had publicly acknowledged as his own, especially when the Duke’s word alone carried more political weight than almost anyone else’s evidence.

And even if Riven was eventually exposed as an impostor, Drew could simply claim that he too had been deceived by the boy and whatever individuals fabricated the story surrounding his birth, allowing the Duke to distance himself from the deception without suffering any lasting damage to his reputation.

As in the end, the only person capable of conclusively undermining that story was the wandering Ascendant who had supposedly raised and trained Riven throughout his childhood.

However, with House Dawnriver providing no names, Chadwick had no means to try and look for the guy.

”Tch, if only you fought like you talk, I could have known for sure that you’re a fraud.

According to your backstory you have no formal education in combat, and so, if you showed even a shred of competence today, I could be assured that you’re not who you claim to be.

However, you did not.....”

Chadwick muttered, as he talked about Riven through gritted teeth.

”Nonetheless, I don’t care. I have more information on you now than I did before, and as long as you continue stepping into the public spotlight, eventually there will be an irregularity between you and your story that I can latch onto to expose you.

My gut tells me that you’re a Stormborn and not a Dawnriver..... and eventually I’ll find a way to prove it.”

Chadwick muttered as he balled his fingers into a tight fist.

Every public appearance gave Chadwick another opportunity to examine Riven against the history House Dawnriver had constructed around him, and eventually, he was confident that something would fail to match.

All he needed was one irregularity that could not be explained away by Riven’s unusual upbringing and he could unravel this whole scheme.

”The Emperor does not intend to let House Dawnriver continue ruling over the East, and so, whether you like it or not, boy, you’re never going to become a noble capable of inheriting it.”

Chadwick declared, as he cut off the transmission feed and let out a long sigh.