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Lucen and Selene entered the gilded, circular chamber slowly. In his mother’s arms, Lucen admired the gold accents on the walls and the red colors that flared up occasionally.

The room he spent the last few months in was big, wide, and nicely furnished. This room was simple, monolithic, and like a beautiful, old painting.

Selene stood at the edge of the gathering pit. Kurenna approached, her white dress whipping in the air.

"Sit."

Heimar didn’t care much for them, casting his gaze over the castle that stretched far below. Kurenna, however, gave them her full attention, those black eyes following them like a hawk.

The three children Lucen already knew. They were Heimar’s legitimate children.

Heimar’s eldest son, Duran, and the twins—Ymir and Set—were all about the sa age as Lucen.

They had halted their play, staring at Selene and the blonde-haired child in her arms.

Selene trembled slightly, but Lucen ran his hand over her belly.

Were they going to et the Patriarch here?

His answer ca soon, as the colossal doors were opened once again.

Heimar’s head snapped towards the entrance, but it was only his father, Koril, and a much shorter, older man.

He returned to looking out of the courtyard, and neither Koril nor the elderly man waited before taking their seats.

Selene and Kurenna rose and bowed to the two n.

"These humble servants greet you, protectors of order—Lord Koril, Lord Duran."

Koril made a low sound of acknowledgent and sank into the velvet cushions. The much older Duran smiled deeply and raised a hand over his head.

"Bless you."

Little Duran, the only one among the three children who could walk on his own, crept a bit closer, and the Elder Duran took the boy in his hands.

"You grow brighter by the day. The blessing of light is great," Duran exclaid.

Koril looked tired, but before he closed his eyes, he asked Selene. "So, how has your stay been?"

The room fell silent.

Kurenna gave Koril a complicated look, but Duran had a look of utter disgust on his face.

"It’s been very wonderful, I’m grateful for my permission to stay," Selene managed.

The older Duran was a man with greying hair mixed in his black, but his eyes were still the purest of gold. He set down the younger Duran and gave Selene a disdainful look.

"Yet you take days off. Is that how you were taught to show gratitude?"

Selene trembled, lowering her head as she searched for the right words.

"Enough," Heimar’s grim voice interrupted.

A cold wind blew through the room, carrying stardust that swirled into the gathering pit.

The flaming hearth flared up. The three children jumped back as tongues of fla rose higher into the air. Even Selene flinched, but Koril and the others were unaffected.

They all rose, Selene followed a second later, and bowed.

"We, children of light, greet the Great and magnanimous Guardian of all that is holy."

Even Heimar bowed deeply, clenching his fist tightly. The flas twisted and flickered as the shining dust shimred around them.

A man appeared over the fire. His hair was a black river flowing down to his back, his face was clean-shaven and stoic, and his eyes were like golden jewels under the sun.

His voice was solemn and ancient.

"Blessed are you, my children." He said, scanning the room.

"I am Alger Lightcloak, current Patriarch of House Lightcloak. Where are Sandor and Falgner, Koril?"

"They are late, Father," Koril answered, still bowing. "Sandor is out, and Falgner is still injured."

"Sit, everyone."

They all complied. Lucen kept his eyes on the glowing and misty form of the Patriarch, which was vaguely transparent like a spirit.

"There is no ti, then. Heimar, tell of your battle with the Elder Dragon."

Heimar rose proudly, there wasn’t a smile on his face, but it showed in his bearing.

"It ran for days. Falgner was injured in our last confrontation, and the beast began to bore Wyrms from the soil. We fought the lesser creatures as they rose, but each ti the Elder Dragon slipped farther away from us."

"Did you learn its na?" Alger asked.

Heimar looked confused but nodded. "The Alchemists were able to learn its na. Shalroth, one of the sons of the first Elder dragon."

"Sorruhul..."

Alger’s voice went low and thoughtful. But the re ntion of this na shook the stone and sent a tremor that travelled deep underground.

Heimar nodded. "The ancient dragon, father of all Wyrms, hasn’t been in contact with the Empire for nearly a thousand years. The other Elder Dragons still stay in their corners of the world, but the Wyrms and Drakes... are approaching from what I heard."

"We will need the Dragon knights," Alger humd. "They are the only ones that can track the Elders."

A couple of superfluous matters passed about the town close to the Grey Keep. They also reported the progress of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Lucen got to know that the current patriarch had six children. Duran, the oldest, had no children.

Sandor ca next, but he wasn’t here.

Then ca the wild-haired Koril, who had five children.

The youngest sons, Gareth, Chester, and Goran, had followed their father to fight deep in the Void.

The dark, all-encompassing blight of the world was the battle ground for a long war that Alger went into four years ago.

Alger nodded, satisfied with his eldest sons.

"My only question now—is what is wrong with that baby?"

Everyone in the room turned to Lucen, who had been watching Alger’s projection intently.

Heimar turned pale. "Lower his head!" he hissed.

Selene moved to cover her child, shivering from the sudden attention. But Alger raised his hand.

"I am not offended by the child’s attention," Alger explained, giving Heimar a chastising look.

"But it seed to be able to fully see my spirit form and hear my words."

Koril sat up, asuring Lucen’s gaze. "That’s impossible, even adult commoners don’t have enough understanding to perceive your spirit, much less hear your words too."

"Its face changed as we discussed the Void," Alger explained, "and I’m very sure it heard Sorruhul’s na. This is your Halfblood son, Heimar?"

The tremor passed through stone once again, and Lucen did his best to ignore it. Heimar’s cold expression crumpled.

Alger looked down at the baby. His gaze carried a tangible force, like it could reach out and touch Lucen’s being.

"Can you hear ?"

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