Chapter 29 - The Bloodline

The tent was quiet as I tried to process the words that came out of Ulric Rookwood's mouth. My own mouth felt dry, and I just stared at the blonde-haired man sat before me.

"At last, she has no words." He chuckled at my stunned silence. I just frowned at him.

"You're lying," was all I could manage to whisper.

"If I lied to you, I would be dead right now. I vowed to tell you the truth about your birth parents, and I have. I knew it the moment I saw you. You have my eyes, but other than that you look exactly like your mother. The resemblance is uncanny."

My mind was a whirlwind. As he spoke, I took in his features more closely now. I saw nothing of me in him. But his eyes. His eyes were the same deep blue as my own and I tried to contain the bile now forming in the pit of my stomach. The sinister voice inside of me, which was quiet up until now, only growled softly as the conversation went on.

"In all honesty, I'm surprised as you. I thought you died fourteen years ago. At least that's what your mother had told me."

I tried to gather my thoughts, this information was a lot to take in.

"What of my mother? Where is she? What is her name?" I tried to put it out my mind that this awful man before me was my father. I needed to know of my birth mother. I had to know that at least one part of me wasn't evil.

"Ah yes. Your mother. Ramona Rookwood. Formerly Ramona Valentius. The most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes upon. Also, the fiercest woman to have walked this earth. You have that same beauty and fire Riley." Ramona. What a beautiful name. I didn't interrupt Ulric as he continued his story.

"I met her in Italy when I was very young during my travels. She was a powerful witch and we both had dreams of changing the world. I told her of my Rookwood bloodline and how I was outcasted from my home and family. Together, we formed The Blackhand in search of the ancient magic. I had a new family."

It was hard to imagine Ulric Rookwood young and in love. He was such a brute of a man it was hard to imagine him caring for another human being.

"As the years went on, we married and eventually we had a daughter. Alina. Alina Romana Rookwood. It means bright and beautiful. And that's exactly what you were when I first held you in my arms."

The thought of Ulric Rookwood holding me in his arms as a baby made my skin goosebump.

"Your mother knew that I didn't possess the ancient magic from the Rookwood bloodline, but there was a chance that it would be passed down to you. Although the ancient magic doesn't reveal itself until one becomes of age, usually around fifteen, there were signs that you possessed the ancient magic. During your temper tantrums your eyes would illuminate with that silver glow, and I knew it was only a matter of time. I began my research and started making the arrangements to have the magic extracted from you as soon as you came of age. My studies found that it could be done, although not a comfortable process, it could be done. It was the only way to obtain what was rightfully mine. I could not return to Britain to retrieve the repository within my family home. My brother was stupid enough to join forces with the goblins, he did not understand that sort of power was not to be shared. I suppose I should thank you for killing him. As a result, I've been able to return to my homeland. Although I returned to find the repository missing, I learnt that a greater source of power resided within Hogwarts. Never did I think that that power would be with you, my daughter."

My frown didn't let off as he spoke.

"You haven't told me how I came to be adopted. And what of my mother now? Where is she?" I stupidly looked around the tent, hoping that she would reveal herself at any moment. But nobody came.

Rookwood's face became serious, and he dropped his relaxed composure as he sat forward in his chair staring at me.

"Your mother learnt of my plans to extract your magic from you, she feared the process would harm you or worse, destroy you. She tried to run away with you many a time. She started to go a little crazy to say the least."

"Can you blame her?" I interrupted him.

Rookwood pulled his lips into a tight line.

"I thought Ramona understood our greater purpose. I was wrong. I eventually had to keep her locked away from you, fearing that she would try to run away with you. I think having her locked up and away from you only drove her further into her mania. She would have manic episodes and kill some of my guards trying to escape." For a moment I could see the hurt within Rookwood's eyes, but it disappeared with a shake of his head.

"One night, when you were about three years' old, I was travelling, and I came back to find your room covered in blood. Your mother had managed to escape her hold. I found her on your bedroom floor cackling with laughter, blood dripping from her hands. There was no sign of you. I tried to penetrate her mind to find out what had happened, but her mind was so far gone there was no way to determine reality from the fiction. She had killed every single guard on duty that night, so I couldn't even interrogate them. The secret of your death was locked inside her mind."

The image of my mother covered in blood stained my mind as I sat there.

"My adoptive parents said they found me wandering the streets when I was about three years old. They had thought I had just been abandoned."

"Yes well, it's obvious now that Ramona did not in fact kill you. It appears she faked your death and left you to be raised by muggles in the one place, she knew I could never return to, forever hidden from me."

My mother protected me. In whatever mental state she was in, she still managed to protect me. To save me from wrath of my father. And I had managed to unravel all her work, but killing Victor Rookwood, who was in fact my uncle. I had killed my own flesh and blood. Images of Sebastian murdering his uncle flashed in my mind. I could feel a headache coming on trying to comprehend everything.

"Where is she now?" I asked in shaky voice. I noticed that he still hadn't answered my question.

"I tried everything I could to heal her mind. To find out what happened to you. She was lost. In one night, I had lost my wife, my child, and my birthright. Years of planning wasted."

"You have no one to blame but yourself. You drove to her insanity. You don't deserve to wield this magic. You are a weak man." Disgust poured from my words. It was obvious Rookwood still only cared about possessing the ancient magic for himself, I felt no pity for him.

He rose from his chair and stared down at me with pure hatred.

"Your mother killed herself a few weeks later. She hung herself. If you're going to call anyone weak, it was her. She was a disappointment."

His words were sharp and cut into my heart. He said it with no compassion or empathy in his voice. He wanted to hurt me. I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my pain and I held my chin high. I also stood from my chair and returned his glare.

"The only disappointment is that I share your blood. But it is my mother's blood that makes me worthy to wield this magic. And you are not worthy."

I didn't have time to react as he raised his hand and slapped it across my face. My cheek stung, but the satisfaction if being able to get a reaction like that out of Rookwood was worth it.

"The ancient magic flows through certain bloodlines, but it only reveals itself in some generations. To this day we've not been able to determine how it chooses to reveal itself. Do not think yourself as special Riley Dagworth."

I rubbed my cheek and continued to glare at him.

"I've held up my end of the bargain. My vow is complete now. It is time for the ceremony. I am done waiting."