I can feel Ardeth’s sorrow as he speaks, and I get the impression he was close with this Jaonos.
“A couple of years after he left, we received a message. He had fallen in love with a human woman and conceived a son. We never heard anything from him after that,” the master finishes, waiting for my reaction with bated breath. The twins have obviously pieced together whatever I’m missing and are wearing shocked expressions.
“What does this have to do with me?” I ask, pleading with one of them to just tell me. Vaeril is the one who answers, kneeling in front of me.
“We think his son, a half blood, was your father,” he explains slowly, a smile spreading across his face. “I think Jaonos was your grandfather.”
“So... I’m part elf?” I ask again, struggling to comprehend what they’re telling me. It explains a lot, but it’s difficult to wrap my mind around. The four of them are looking at me, all with varying degrees of expectancy. What are they waiting for?
“Yes,” Vaeril replies, watching my face carefully for any sign of my reaction.
Turning my head, I look over at Ardeth. He’s wearing a soft, understanding smile. “I assume you will have questions, and I’m happy to answer them to the best of my knowledge.”
I frown but nod. I do have questions, so many that I don’t know where to begin. Taking a deep breath, I process what this means. If I’m part elf, then I have family here, or at least, had family here.
“My family. Jaonos is dead? What about my…my father?” I question the master, stumbling over the word ‘father.’ My whole life, it’s been something I’ve just accepted—I don’t have a family. I know I must have one, but I have no memories of them. Shouldn’t I have something? Even just a vague recollection?
“We don’t know, but no one has heard anything of him in years,” he answers softly, shaking his head sadly. “He was a friend of mine, a great scholar.” He averts his gaze, turning to peer down at the book before him, but I don’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. Running his finger down the page, he taps it twice when he reaches a blank spot—like there’s a name missing from the list. “I’m afraid I know nothing about your father, not even his name, but the wood elves might have more information,” he finishes, looking back up at me now that his emotions are more in control.
“I can take you to meet the wood elves,” Vaeril chimes in. He looks worried. Perhaps he was expecting me to react differently, but all I feel is…numb and confused.
“I would like that.” My voice is soft, and I feel like all of the fight has been drained out of me.
“If she is part elf, she has a right to be here. The queen can’t deny her a home in Galandell,” Naril speaks up, taking a step closer to us, as if seeing me like this invokes some sort of protective feeling towards me. I look over at his scarred brother who is glaring at me, his arms crossed as if he’s trying to stop himself from doing something he might regret later.
Pulling my gaze away, I stare down at my hands, not having the energy to fight with him anymore. Usually, I would be barking at him, demanding to know what his issue is, instead a single word floats through my mind.
Home. Somewhere to belong.
“Can we prove she’s an elf though? Without revealing the bond between the two of them?” Naril muses, and I can feel his gaze land on me again.
“Are you sure you’re bonded?” Eldrin snaps, and this time his tone wakes something within me, my anger pushing through the fog as I glare at him, but he just ignores me.
Glancing wearily between me and his friend, Vaeril answers, “It isn’t sealed yet. There was never really a good time while we were in captivity or on the run. But yes, I’m sure.” His answer only seems to make Eldrin angrier as he starts to pace the study area.
“Sealed?” I echo, looking at the elves. What does he mean by sealed? Is the bond not complete between us?
Naril snorts and holds his hands up. “Well, I’m not telling her what that means.”
They all share a look again and Ardeth shakes his head. Sighing, Vaeril nods slowly. “Bonds between elves get stronger as the relationship grows between them, but it’s not a full