Chapter 40: Departure
The area fell silent except for the sound of the cold breeze.
Rosa gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Jaenor stared at Morgana as if she had just told him the sun was black.
"What are you saying?" Jaenor whispered, his voice barely louder than the wind outside.
Morgana straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
When she spoke again, her voice was steady but filled with old pain. "Yes, it’s true. The creature that has been with you—the Saev’n Divine Beast—has been with my father ever since the day he was born. The old stories say it was born from The Origin itself. They called it the Almighty’s own creation."
Jaenor’s eyes grew wider and wider as understanding began to dawn on him like a terrible sunrise. His hands began to shake, and he could feel something stirring in his blood—something that had been sleeping but was now waking up.
Morgana watched him carefully, then nodded slowly. "Yes," she said.
"You are my nephew, Jaenor Arkwright."
Rosa made a sound like a wounded animal. She knew the name Arkwright. Everyone in the empire knew that name. They were the Old House, as powerful and enduring as any dynasty.
Their story was so old that even a peasant knew about it.
This northern part was no exception.
Morgana continued, her voice growing softer now, filled with old grief. "Your parents—my brother and his wife—were attacked by the daemon’s army of seven generals after you were born. The dark forces knew what you were, what power flowed in your veins. They came in the dead of night with swords and fire and creatures made of shadow."