Son of a slave

Thinking back to the lore that he’d studied both in Mr. Herst’s company and in the privacy of his home, he said, "I’m not sure how far back you’re referring to, but since you mentioned the Inverted Wars... The two that come to mind were called Dalia Silver and Tephon Coldwater. At least, those are my ancestors on my mother’s side."

The man smashed a fist into the ground, breaking it in several places without so much as a flinch of discomfort. "Dalia...how could you? Of all people, of all blasted people, you chose Tephon?"

Alistar was very perturbed by the direction of the conversation. One moment, the man was dying and very much so insane, and the next he was coherent, angry, and speaking of great figures that had died centuries ago as if he had been personally acquainted with them. This, along with the fact that he had inquired about the current era, made it seem as if he had lived during that period of history, which was quite obviously impossible.

"Um, if you don’t mind, sir. Could you tell me your name?"

"Let me see your hand again."

After hesitating for a moment, Alistar complied. Feeling his pulse, the man grumbled, "Remarkable. Not just Dalia’s and that bastard Tephon’s, but Kalven’s too. And so pure... If it’s been as long as you say, this shouldn’t be possible."

Alistar pulled away for a second time, his unease increasing. "That’s what I should be saying. Just who in Lucian’s name are you?"

The man spat on the ground. "That devil is still around?"

Devil? From the way he spoke, it sounded as if he were under the impression that Lucian was a living being, not a god.