Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 3 ❯ CHAPTER 98: FAMILY ( Chapter 32 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Soren followed Sanaki and Tanith to the room where the senate used to convene. The only person he could think of wanting to meet him was Almedha, but he didn’t understand why the dowager queen would enlist Sanaki’s help, especially when the empress was so busy with her own problems. He also didn’t understand why they had to meet in such a large audience chamber when a small parlor would have sufficed.

All became clear, however, when they arrived at the chamber doors, beyond which, he felt the presence of Branded: a lot of Branded. Tanith heaved the door open, and Soren followed Sanaki inside. Seated in the spectators’ and lobbyists’ seats were dozens upon dozens of unfamiliar Branded, and at a table in the center of the hall sat Stefan, Micaiah, and—Soren could hardly believe—Koure. Her face split into a grin, and she rushed to hug him before he’d even reached the table. Meanwhile, Sanaki sat down at the table’s head.

“Soren!” Koure cried, “I’m so glad to see you’re okay! Of course, they told me you were, but it’s still good to see it.”

“Koure, what are you doing here?”

“Sit, and we will re-explain everything,” Sanaki answered, drumming her fingers against the tabletop.

Koure returned to her chair, and Soren took one of the empty ones. It felt strange to have the eyes of so many Branded watching him.

“It’s come to my attention that there has been a secret colony of dual-race citizens and refugees living in Begnion,” Sanaki began. “They were spared Ashera’s judgement and came here.” She gestured around the room. “They arrived not long ago.”

Soren looked around again. The Branded seemed to number between one hundred fifty and two hundred. “Why?”

Koure explained: “I was in Daein when it happened. I wandered around, thinking I was the only one who didn’t turn to stone. Then I met Lorne.” She waved to someone in the crowd. “We realized what we had in common and wondered if other Branded had survived, so we started moving south toward the desert. One day, we came into a town where the snow and mud was covered in human footprints and the livestock had been set free. We knew a group of people had come through, so we followed the trail… Until we lost it again.” She smiled sheepishly.

“They were following us, the Silver Army,” Micaiah clarified.

Soren nodded.

Koure continued: “Anyway, we decided to keep going to the desert, and when we finally arrived, we found all the Branded had come together in Zunanma, even though everyone else in the city had turned to stone. They told us a small group of laguz and beorc had passed through a few days before.”

“At the time, only I elected to approach and join the Silver Army,” Stefan added, “But this young woman changed the others’ minds.”

“How?” Soren asked Koure in disbelief.                             

“Oh, it wasn’t me.” She waved her hands modestly. “We all had the same dream that night. A bird told us she was sorry she hadn’t seen us before, and she asked us to ‘come into the light’. None of us knew what that meant, but we all had a sense of where we needed to go: Sienne.” She tossed her shoulders. “And here we are!” 

“She sells herself short.” Stefan folded his arms. “The way I understand it, Koure here was instrumental in getting everyone to actually follow Yune’s order.”

“Yune…” Koure repeated with a shake of her head. “So it really was a goddess?”

“Yes.” Sanaki drew her hands together and turned to Soren. “There you have it. It is now my intention to resettle these people as soon as possible and find them gainful employment and opportunity in the lands of Begnion. Of course, their rights will be guaranteed, and those who have sought refuge from persecution in other nations will be bestowed full Begnion citizenship.”

When the ensuing murmurs died down, Micaiah turned to the crowd and added: “And I will speak to King Pelleas about extending the same opportunities in Daein, should you wish to return or resettle there!” This was followed by more murmuring, but it was briefer.

“That being said…” Sanaki began again. “Sir Stefan and Lady Koure are acting as spokespeople for the Grann Colonists, and they both asked that I bring you into the discussion.” She gestured to Stefen as if he should take the floor.

He gave Soren an easy smile. “Before you entered the Tower of Guidance, you mentioned a secret city. I said we could discuss it further if we both survived… Here we are.” He raised both his palms. “I would like to hear your idea in more detail.”

Soren became flustered, realizing Stefan wanted him to present some sort of plan for the Branded’s resettlement here and now, in front of everyone, when he had hardly given the idea a second thought since it first popped into his head that day.

However, by now Soren was quite adept at thinking on the spot and presenting sound strategies even if they were only half-formed. He controlled his voice and spread his palms on the table. “I propose an excavation of the Kauku Caves in the Erzt Mountains,” he began. “Although ancient volcanic eruptions have made the entrances hazardous, a well-trained, well-supplied, and well-funded archaeological crew should be able to reopen paths to the city. I believe it may be made habitable—and profitable—within a decade at most. Such a project would require the permissions and support of Begnion, Goldoa, and Gallia, but I can think of no better people to head the project and take advantage of the valuable location than the homeless Branded.” When his voice collapsed into silence, he hardly believed the speech that had come out of his mouth.

No one responded for a while, and Soren hoped that meant they were honestly contemplating the proposal instead of counting all the reasons it was a bad idea.

“There’s a city in the Erzt Mountains?” Koure asked in disbelief. “You really have to fill me in on your adventures, Soren!”

“I will,” he promised. He wanted to know what she’d been up to these past two years as well.

“It is an interesting proposition,” Sanaki finally said, “and I would be willing to fund a team to investigate its viability. As of now, my understanding of the Kauku city is founded solely on rumor I’ve heard from King Tibarn, Prince Skrimir, and the Greil Mercenaries.”

“That is understandable,” Soren agreed.

“Would you be willing to head up such a project if I were to proceed?”

“No.” Soren’s answer was immediate and definite.

“Of course, you are still committed to the mercenaries,” Sanaki sighed with a wave of her hand.

“No… that’s not it.” In truth, he wanted Ike to be his sole commitment right now. “I would be willing to help, but I cannot lead this expedition.”

“I would be willing to lead, Empress Sanaki,” Stefan volunteered, raising his hand. “In fact, it would be an honor. But I have one condition.”

“What would that be?”

“Kauku must be allowed to become its own sovereign nation. That is what the Branded of the Grann have desired for over a hundred years. We wish to develop our own way of life, and being spared unjust persecution is only part of that. We wish to be self-governed.”

Murmuring turned into clapping and cheering.

Sanaki nodded. “Very well. Begnion will stake no claim to the mountains.”

“Nor will Daein,” Micaiah added with a warm smile.

“We will work together to acquire the appropriate permissions from the other nations.” Sanaki held out her hand, and Stefan shook it across the table. “I look forward to working with you.”

The discussion continued a short while longer, in which Stefan asked for a vote from his people to support his proposal. (They did.) Soren promised to provide a detailed report based on his memory of the caves, and Sanaki and Micaiah discussed temporary resettlement plans for the meantime. Only then was the assembly dismissed. Micaiah returned to her own people (who were preparing to leave for Daein by this evening), and Sanaki passed the horde of Branded onto her servants, who had been preparing them rooms. When this was done, Tanith entered the chamber, and the Holy Guard’s arms were already full of missives and paperwork requiring Sanaki’s attention.

Soren lingered at the table until everyone was gone, and Koure lingered too. “You missed the fight,” he said awkardly

“We didn’t come to fight.”

“I thought that was why Yune was recruiting people.”

“All she told us was to come into the light.”

Soren sighed. “She was a confusing goddess.”

“I can’t believe you got to meet her!” Koure leaned across the table and rested her cheek on her fist. “What was it like? Tell me everything!”

“It is a long story.”

“Well, I still want to hear it.”

Soren decided to start at the beginning: “Eight-hundred and twenty-eight years ago, the world was drowned because the Goddess of Dawn split in two and the Goddess of Chaos couldn’t control her own power…” He told her about the legendary heroes and Lehran. He told her about the line of apostles and the Branded. He told her about the Serenes Massacre and Misaha’s assassination. He told her about the medallion and the wars that fueled its flames. Koure was a quiet, attentive listener. “…I was in Daein, serving in the Apostle’s Army, when Ashera cast her judgement,” he explained when he reached the present. “After Yune was freed, we marched south to fight Ashera, and we won. Yune used the last of her power to save everyone… I don’t know if any part of her or Ashera still survives. But that is the end of the story.”

Koure gave one slow nod and closed her eyes. “Yune’s medallion was the reason Lillia—my mother—was imprisoned at Palmeni Temple, wasn’t it?” She opened her eyes again, and her expression was sad but calm.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I assume you’ve been there?”

She nodded again. “I went there as fast as I could when the war was over. First Begnion’s and then Daein’s historians had already cleared out and catalogued everything at the temple, and no one was allowed in the basement who wasn’t a priest or a scholar. But I petitioned to see their research materials, and I read everything they translated from the walls… It was the only way I could become closer to her.”

Soren knew what horrors had been inscribed on those walls, and so he knew this course of study couldn’t have been as easy on her as she was making it seem. “…There is another way to know her,” he proposed. “Reyson, Leanne, and Rafiel are no longer here, but they are all returning to the Serenes Forest shortly. You could learn about Lillia—and your heritage—from them. I could introduce you, if you wish.”

Koure looked at him as if suddenly confused. “You’ve changed, Soren.”

“I have,” he agreed. “I’m not hiding anymore, and I am…content. At least for now, I feel like I have a new start.”

“I feel the same way…” she thought aloud. “That decides it: I will go to Serenes!”

“Do you need me to-”

“I’ll be fine,” she cut him off. “I want to introduce myself. They can make of me what they will.”

“I am sure they will welcome you,” Soren offered. “Acceptance seems to be their new philosophy, and when they left this morning, they were obviously quite proud of their diverse little family.”

“A family,” Koure repeated with a laugh in her voice. “You know, I learned a bit of the ancient language during my research. I wonder if they could teach me more… I heard some heron scrolls and artifacts were stolen before they could be burned. If we could track them down together, maybe they would let me study them.”

“Maybe,” Soren agreed.  

“Do you still not want to find your parents?” Koure asked conversationally.

Soren knew the question wasn’t meant as a barb, but he couldn’t help but feel pressured by the it. “I never said I didn’t want to find them,” he answered quietly, wondering how he could possibly tell her he shared Ashnard’s blood.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” She shook her head. “I just think it would be worth looking… I feel better now that I know, even if the story isn’t a happy one.”

“The truth is,” Soren admitted, “I don’t need to look anymore. She’s here—my mother, but we haven’t spoken yet.”

Koure was clearly shocked, but she was also elated. “That’s amazing, Soren! But why in Tellius haven’t you talked to her? You should go to her right now!”

He shook his head. “I will, but I…” He couldn’t think of a good reason why he hadn’t. “I need to plan what I will say to her.”

Koure stood abruptly. “You don’t have to plan! Just say whatever’s on your mind.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is!” she shot back. “I would give anything for a chance to actually meet my mother. You can’t waste it.”

“I know,” Soren conceded. “I will be sure to speak with her before she leaves.”

“Where is she going?” Koure sat down again. “Who is she?”

Soren answered carefully: “I don’t know if she will return to Daein or Goldoa. Her name is Almedha, and she is a dragon, or at least, she was before she had me. She is not entirely laguz anymore.” He decided not to mention that she was a princess of Goldoa, and he would avoid mentioning Ashnard if he could help it.

“Yeah, I heard that happens,” Koure murmured sympathetically. “That must be hard for her… And she’s lived in Daein all this time?”

Soren nodded, not wanting to give further details.

“Well, once you know her a little better, I’d love to meet her.”

“Perhaps,” Soren replied noncommittally. Right now, he didn’t think he actually wanted that.

“Now, you should go talk to her.” Koure got up from her chair, and this time she pushed it in behind her. “I should be getting back to Lorne and the other Branded anyway,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“Of course, you must be tired.”

“Can we talk again soon?” she asked hopefully. “After you talk to your mother.”

“Yes,” Soren replied readily, “I would like to introduce you to my friends later.” He said the words without thinking, and although they startled him, he was glad to find they were true. Almedha was a new part of his life he didn’t know how he felt about yet, but the Greil Mercenaries were old and familiar and he finally felt ready to share them.

 

Despite Koure’s prodding, Soren didn’t seek Almedha upon leaving the senate chamber. Instead, he tracked down the mercenaries. When he found them, they were in the suite of rooms belonging to Elincia and her vassals. The queen was wearing a traveling gown and had a packed bag swung over her shoulder. Renning, Geoffrey, Lucia, Bastian, Calill, and Amy were here as well—and all prepared for an imminent departure.

Soren arrived just as the farewells were concluding. “Well, your Majesty, shall we be off?” Geoffrey asked, lending Elincia his arm.

“Yes, let us,” she agreed, taking his arm and smiling tenderly.

Soren instinctively glanced at Ike, prepared to find jealousy there. But there was none. He supposed he should accept the fact that he’d been wrong to imagine Ike’s admiration for the young monarch—and the inspiration he’d drawn from her during the Mad King’s War—had ever been anything more romantic. It seemed foolish now to have been jealous for so long.

“To Crimea,” Elincia continued, resting a hand on Geoffrey’s. “To our homeland.”

Renning led the way, giving the Greil Mercenaries another firm nod in farewell. Bastian followed after, waving dramatically and even bowing with a flourish once he was in the corridor. “Fare thee well, O’ Mercenaries of Greil!”

Then came Calill, who said as she passed: “Remember, you can stop by the bar any time! Don’t be strangers!”

Amy was walking beside her, holding her hand, but she waved, saying, “Bye-bye m‘saries!”

The mercenaries all waved in reply, and even Soren raised his hand to the little girl. He truly hoped she would have a good life, and he truly believed Calill and Largo were capable of giving her one.

Elincia and Geoffrey exited next, with Lucia pulling up the rear. “I expect to see you the next time you’re in Melior,” Elincia said by way of parting. “There will be no hiding from me this time!”

Titania chuckled in embarrassment, and Ike and Mist both laughed good-humoredly. A moment later, the Crimeans were gone, and the Greil Mercenaries were left standing in the overturned room. Ike led them out, and they moved to a balcony where they could see the pegasus-drawn carriages take off.

“I hope Sanaki can figure out the senators’ Rewarp staves soon.” Mist sighed, folded her arms over the railing, and rested her head. “Then it will be so much easier to travel between the nations. Everyone can work together, and we’ll be able to visit our friends all the time.”

“It is a marvelous invention, if used for the right purposes,” Titania agreed. “I am sure her scholars will unlock the staves’ secrets.”

“…Magic like that sure makes the world smaller,” Ike agreed, but his voice wasn’t filled with pleasant wonder like the other two.

Before long, the pegasi got a running start and took off with the carriages swaying below. The queen was once again returning to Crimea. “Long may she reign…” Titania murmured under her breath like a prayer.

 

While the mercenaries meandered back to the parlor near their rooms, Soren fell in step beside Ike and asked covertly: “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he answered, “Just tired.” He rubbed his eyes without stopping, but he did slow down and they fell to the back of the group. “Anyway, what did Sanaki want?”

“There was a caucus of Branded,” Soren answered honestly. “Yune led them here. Sanaki and Micaiah intend to resettle them. I suggested a recolonization of the Kauku Caves, and Stefan leapt at the idea. Now there is to be an independent Branded state. I suppose it was quite a productive meeting. I even met an old friend.”

Ike stopped and stared at him in confusion. “Uh, there’s a lot to unpack there. Can you start over?”

Soren also stopped, and the mercenaries pulled ahead. “There was a colony of Branded hermits living in the Grann Desert. I apologize for never telling you. Stefan is one of them. He tried to recruit me during the Mad King’s War.”

“Well…that’s a surprise.” Ike shook his head in disbelief.

“All Branded were accidentally spared Ashera’s initial judgement, and Yune told the members of the colony in a dream to come to Sienne. They arrived today.”

“Okay, that I believe.”

Soren smiled but continued his story: “Sanaki and Micaiah were planning to provide homes, work, and equal rights for the Branded, but Stefan wants more for his people: a place of their own and the ability to self-govern. I recommended an excavation and colonization of the city within the Kauku Caves.” Soren lifted both his hands. “That is all.”

Ike made a face as if impressed. “Already negotiating the birth of a nation, are you? Maybe you would make a good king.”

Soren frowned. “That is never going to happen.”

Ike chuckled and started walking with his fingers knitted behind his head. “So what about this ‘friend’ you mentioned? I thought I knew all your friends.”

Soren resumed walking too. “Her name is Koure. We met as children, at the temple where I lived after leaving you, Greil, and Mist. Our paths have crossed on several occasions since then. She too, in Branded. In fact, she is the daughter of the heron Lillia.”

“What?” Ike stopped again and dropped his arms. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of her?”

Soren tried to seem appropriately apologetic. “Friendship is a vulnerability,” he tried to explain. “It was easier to keep my past and my present entirely separate.”

“Vulnerability, huh?” Ike frowned and peered closely at him. “…Should I be jealous?”

Soren blinked in surprise. “No, of course not.”

“Good.” Ike smiled playfully. “In that case, can I meet her?”

“Of course,” he said again, “but not right now.” He glanced down that hall where the mercenaries had disappeared. “You should catch up to the others. There’s something I need to do.”

Ike’s expression grew curious. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“I need to talk to Almedha.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You’re doing it now?”

Soren gave a small nod. “Before I lose my nerve.”

Ike reached out and laid a hand on either of his shoulders. “You’ll be fine. Good luck.”

Soren swallowed, but he didn’t trust his voice. Now that he’d made the decision aloud, his heart was starting to beat faster. Nervousness clawed at his resolve.

But then Ike bent forward and gently kissed the top of his head. Soren’s entire body froze in surprise, but he did feel better. “I mean it,” he repeated softly, “You’ll be fine.” Then he released him and continued down the hall. Soren doubled back the way he’d come; he already knew the way to the dragons’ quarters.

 

When he arrived in the corridor where they were staying, he found himself hoping Almedha wouldn’t be in her room. But he wasn’t that lucky. Although her presence was subtle and she didn’t feel like a beorc, laguz, or Branded, now that Soren knew it, he could detect her even through the closed door.

Neither Kurthnaga nor Ena were in their rooms, but Soren could sense Nasir sleeping in his own. That was another confrontation he wasn’t looking forward to, but he could only handle one at a time. Raising a tentative hand, he knocked. When there was no reply, he knocked again.

This time, he heard the shuffling of sheets and then footsteps on the floor. The door opened, and there stood Almedha with puffy eyes and disheveled hair. She froze when she saw him and inhaled unevenly, as if she’d suddenly forgotten how to breathe. Perhaps ashamed of her appearance, she hastily drew her fingers through her hair and started patting down her wrinkled black dress. “S-Soren,” she stuttered. “How can I help you?”

Staring into her face, he tried to see his own. He didn’t think Kurthnaga had been lying, but it was still difficult to accept. “Lady Almedha,” he began rigidly, trying to put some professional distance between them. “I need to talk to you about the child your bore with King Ashnard.”

She stared at him with profound longing—but also acute pain, which seemed to hold her back like a tether. Her eyes were pinched, and she clasped her hands, as if resisting the urge to grab him. “You know…”

“Prince Kurthnaga conveyed the story in the Tower of Guidance, upon the defeat of your father, King Dheginsea.” Soren hated the lifeless sound of his own voice. This was not the tone he’d meant to strike.

“Come in…” Almedha stepped to the side. Her room was furnished with a large bed she must have just pulled herself out of. Her black veil and cloak had been dropped on the floor, and the shutters were tightly drawn, making the room dark.

Obviously embarrassed, she opened the windows to let in light and a crack of fresh air. Then she threw the clothes onto the bed and cleared her throat, gesturing graciously to a small nook with soft chairs and a low table. She’d been given better quarters than the mercenaries, but Soren wasn’t surprised. She was a queen after all.

He forced himself to sit down in one of the chairs, and Almedha sat directly opposite him. He had nowhere to look but at her hopeful yet frightened eyes—eyes that were the same almond shape and contained the same red irises as his own. She was staring at him, and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to stand it. “Are you really my mother?” he asked outright, and he was relieved his voice didn’t break.

“Yes…” Her voice was a quiver. “I would know you anywhere.”

Soren swallowed. “And Ashnard…he was really my father?”

“Yes,” she said again. “There was no other.” She tilted her head sadly. “You…you have his teeth. His mouth…his smile. Would you smile for me, Soren?”

“No,” he returned flatly, fighting the nervousness rising in his stomach. “Why- How could you love a man like that?”

Almedha glanced at the ceiling as if in remembrance. “When I met your father—” she began, and Soren cringed “—he was an ambitious young beorc prince. He was strong and cunning, he was beholden to no one, and he would stop at nothing.” She smiled fondly. “Eventually I discovered he was the source of the supposed plague afflicting Daein, and so too did I discover his plot to kill the king. I helped him, and on that night, he proposed. We married only a few months later… We both wanted a child. Ashnard to raise an heir even stronger and more dastardly than himself—” she appeared to laugh at some memory “—and me to have something to cherish as dearly as beorc devote themselves to all manner of ephemeral things… A year later, we finally conceived you.” She returned her gaze to him and smiled adoringly. “I could transform no longer, but I lied to Ashnard, saying my condition was temporary. Oh, how he loved you when you were growing inside me…”

Soren squirmed at the thought. He hadn’t meant to push Almedha down a path of romantic nostalgia. These were not the answers he’d come for.

“But everything changed when you were born,” she sighed, and her back hunched slightly. Now she gazed at the table. “I told Ashnard the truth—that I would never be the same, and neither would our child be able to transform as I once did. He had barely taken one look at you when he decided you were worthless. You were a very small thing. Your head seemed too big for your body, and you were so pink and always tired.” Almedha released a strangled chuckle at the same time a tear collected on the inside of her right eye. “Your mark didn’t appear until the third day, but I knew from first holding you that you would be special. I knew you were strong, even if Ashnard couldn’t see it.”

“…If you cared that much about me,” Soren growled, “Why leave me with of that awful woman?”

Almedha glanced up as if surprised. “Was she so awful? I know she lost you, but…”

“She didn’t lose me; she sold me!” Soren countered. “After beating me and starving me for years!” He tried to control his voice and keep it at a lower volume. “She hated me.”

“I’m so sorry…” She did seem genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t know what else to do. I did not know many beorc, and even fewer that would risk my husband’s wrath to help me. The midwife kept to herself, but I knew she had gambling debts. She could be manipulated with money. I knew where her loyalties began and ended.”

Soren hated that he agreed with her logic. “Why did you have to get rid of me at all?”

“You were my special boy,” Almedha replied as if that should have been obvious. “I never wanted Ashnard to take you from me, to use your power for himself.”

Soren shook his head in disappointment. “You were both insane,” he determined. “Trying to understand you is madness.” He stood to leave, finding he’d heard quite enough.

But Almedha lurched forward and seized his arm. “No, please! Don’t leave yet.” Soren wrenched himself out of her grasp. She winced as if injured and held her tightly folded arms against her stomach. “I know what you must think of me…but please, I need to know what happened to you. I need to know you’ve had a happy life.”

“I didn’t,” Soren growled back, but he immediately regretted those words. All things considered, his life hadn’t been terrible. His childhood had been difficult, but he wasn’t the only person with a painful past. And because of it, he’d met Ike. He’d won a war and defeated a goddess. He’d travelled all over Tellius and seen amazing things. He’d met many people, some of whom he was proud to call his friends. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say, “that was wrong. My life has, at times, been happy. Galina gave me to a sage who taught me wind magic. I became a mercenary and later a tactician. I am good at what I do.”

Almedha’s wet eyes shone with pride. “What will you do now?” she asked, “Pelleas has confided in me that he wishes to abdicate the Daein throne-”

“No,” Soren cut her off. “I have absolutely no interest in being Ashnard’s heir.”

She frowned at him. “But you are! I am sure you could accomplish so much! You could change the world. Ashnard would have be so-”

“I have already changed the world,” he returned, “Now, I think I’m done.”

Almedha gazed back at him sadly. “But you are still so young! There is still so much Kurth and I could teach you. Dragon magic runs deeper than our transformations. It is an old magic. I know you could learn it. You are your father’s son—you mustn’t let anything stop you from achieving your goals! Laguz and beorc will kneel before you, as they should! I’ll help you; I promise I will.”

Soren wished he could stop her fervent ramblings, but he was so stunned by them that he couldn’t say a word. She was pawing the air as if wishing she could latch onto him again but fighting to hold herself back.

“You’re my son; you’re my special boy. You’re destined for greatness!” Finally she seemed to run out of energy, and she settled for staring plaintively.

Soren blinked and found his voice. “You clearly have an idea who you want your son to be…but that’s not me. I have someone who knows me—really knows me—and loves me anyway. I don’t need you or your help.” With that, he made his way to the door, but Almedha stopped him.

“That Ike boy?” she demanded reproachfully. “He is beorc! You bear the blood of the dragon tribe! He will grow old and die in sixty years at best! Then you will come back to your mother. We will have centuries together. I can wait!” Tears spilled over her cheeks. “I’ll always wait for you to come back to me.”

Soren hated that her words poked a sharp stick right into his deepest fears. But he refused to come crawling back to her—now or ever. So he forced himself toward the door without offering a rebuttal.

 

As soon as he was in the hall, he felt a strong urge to rush back to Ike for comfort, but while he was here, he decided there was another thorn he needed to rip out. He slammed open Nasir’s door to find him sitting in bed with a book, not sleeping after all. “Soren, how unexpectedly rude of you,” was his greeting. “Please come in.”

Soren was almost disappointed to find his suave tone contained only a shadow of its former vitality. The man seemed lopsided, holding the book with only one arm, and his face looked sallow. There were bags under his eyes, and Soren could see scars on his face and neck where wounds had festered until Siennese healers had been able to treat them. But Soren was still angry and refused to pity him.

“Did you know who my parents were?” Soren demanded. “Did you know the whole time?”

Nasir closed his book and pressed it into the coverlet. “Yes.”

“How?”

“I sensed it about you when first you boarded my ship.”

“You just ‘sensed’ it?” he repeated skeptically.

“I am old, Soren,” Nasir explained. “One of the oldest living dragons now that Dheginsea is gone. Our telesthesic senses improve as we age, and at the risk of sounding braggadocious, mine are quite acute. At times, looking upon you was the same as looking upon your mother when she was young.”

Soren was willing to accept this explanation, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. “Then why didn’t you tell me? What was all of that—a test?”

Nasir raised his eyebrows as if surprised by the suggestion. “Not at all. I merely didn’t want you to know. I believed until recently that Almedha was dead, and I thought it unlikely you would ever discover the truth on your own.”

Soren gritted his teeth. “That doesn’t explain why you- why you thought so little of me.” He hated how petulant he sounded. He didn’t want Nasir’s approval; he didn’t need it. And yet it sounded to his own ears like he was asking for it. 

Nasir raised his chin. “I have said before—I misjudged you. When I did not see your mother in you, I saw Ashnard.”

Soren fought the bile that rose in his throat. “Well, I’m not him.”

“Indeed.” Nasir moved his hand to his bandaged stump. “You didn’t even kill me when you were well within your rights to do so.”

“Ike wouldn’t have wanted that.”

Nasir smiled wanly. “I am sorry, Soren. For everything.”

“It doesn’t matter now…” He swept out of the room before he could be tempted to accept Nasir’s apology.

 

In the corridor again, he was determined to reach Ike and put all thought of dragons behind him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t made it to the end of the hall before he ran into Kurthnaga.

“Soren!” the king observed in surprise. “If you’re here… Did you speak to her?”

He tried to rein in his emotions, because neither Almedha’s eccentricity nor Nasir’s conceit were Kurthnaga’s fault. “I am not sure it had the effect you wanted,” he managed to reply. “She seemed quite upset.”

Kurthnaga stared down the hall at his sister’s room. “That’s fine. Whatever the case, I know she will be better for it. She needed some closure. Thank you.”

Assuming he would want to comfort her now, Soren made to leave. But he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “While you’re here, there is something we need to discuss.”

“What would that be?”

“Almedha, Ena, and I are leaving for Goldoa tonight,” Kurthnaga explained, “but I would like you to join us there in the future. Stay for a while—long enough to know the people and for them to accept you.”

“Why in Tellius would I want to do that?”

Kurthnaga’s expression was serious but patient. “The royal family is nearly depleted,” he said. “Until Ena’s child comes of age, there will be no one to replace me if the worst should happen. Goldoa will be left leaderless.”

“Your sister is alive,” Soren pointed out, because he didn’t like where this was going. “And isn’t she older than you, anyway?”

He frowned. “I’ve reinstated Almedha’s birthright as a princess of Goldoa, but she is not fit to rule and she knows it. Father left the future of our homeland in my hands.”

“Then you’d better not die before Ena’s child can take the throne,” Soren returned dryly. “Or better yet, retire the whole monarchy.”

Kurthnaga ignored him. “Soren, listen to me. I do not make this offer lightly… But if you can come to think of Goldoa as a second home, I would welcome you as my heir in the case of an emergency succession.”

Soren scowled. “I am no one’s heir. Not Almedha’s, not Ashnard’s, and certainly not yours.”

“Whether you like it or not,” Kurthnaga replied sternly, suddenly seeming older, “you are part of our family.”

“No, I’m not,” he shot back, wishing he didn’t sound so childish. “I have my own family.” With that, he kept walking down the hall, and he only breathed easier when he’d rounded the corner and couldn’t feel Kurthnaga’s disappointed gaze anymore.