Ah, now I remember.

“The student council elections, right?” I asked.

Sededa meekly nodded her head in agreement, and things pieced together quickly from there. Sededa seemed to be a lackey of some sort to Terstus. I didn’t get the impression that it was some equal servitude or cousin-to-cousin relationship. It very much felt like Terstus was holding the reins, and Sededa was along for the ride.

Also, the elections were postponed due to all the external factors that transpired over the last few months. So naturally, it made sense, considering a Dragon attacked and killed dozens of people, the attempted assassination against Ren and Lauren, and the uprooting of Parker and his rebellious faction.

Luminar and Forward University went through crisis after crisis. A silly election for student representatives meant little in the face of those events. That was, of course, my opinion. Perhaps the students closer to the matter cared more than I did.

From what I could remember, Terstus and Lauren seemed to have been going at it for the top spot. And it appeared that he was losing, at least if I considered Lauren’s popularity, which has only grown since then.

Terstus had attempted to recruit me into his faction, but I declined. I personally didn’t find the man to be very affable. Perhaps our father’s dislike for each other spread to us biologically…well, not really, as Dad said it was one-sided.

But Terstus seemed like a real ass. Even more so now.

Sededa had sat back down on her knees. She looked like a child that was prepared to be scolded for something. But that was just her reality. I really didn’t care about the student council elections or throwing a sports game that had nothing on the line. So, I might as well go off-topic.

“Sededa, would you mind answering some questions for me?” I asked gently. Sededa’s smokey gray eyes met mine, and she nodded. “Why is your hair silver? Is that your natural hair color?”

She nodded in the affirmative.

“I see…”

Dark Elves with silver hair? I’ve never heard of that or seen it before. Dad never mentioned it, and the handful of books I read never brought them up.

“Sededa, is it true that you are Terstus’s cousin?”

She flinched slightly when she heard Terstus’s name, but she barely managed to nod again. I got a bad feeling and looked her over thoroughly. She shrunk away from my discerning eyes, but she didn’t voice any complaints.

Mmm…I don’t see any signs of abuse, no bruises or marks on her exposed dark skin. She isn’t frail, nor does she seem injured in any way. If she can rise from the ground and sit on her knees, and extend her arms far while carrying things, then her physical condition must be ok. So it must be mental.

“Is that so? I suppose that means we are related. What are your parents’ names?” I asked.

Now that I asked her a direct question, I basically forced her to talk, which made me feel somewhat regretful. Since I could practically feel Sededa trying to crawl out of her skin, it really looked like she was expecting me to be furious with her confession. Perhaps she walked on eggshells because of Terstus’s attitude.

“Zydrae…and…Janos…” she mumbled.

Oh? Uncle Janos had a child? Color me surprised; I never imagined that man being a father.

I put on my best disarming smile. “I understand now. Well, somewhat, at least. If your father is Janos, that means we are related as well. But why do you have the last name of Shadowstorm? Uncle Janos shouldn’t have that last name either…” I asked myself, hoping she would answer for me.

Sededa’s gray eyes went wide. “You would…consider me family?” she muttered in disbelief. “And…it’s because I was sort of adopted…in a way…I suppose.”

Ah, so it is for more political power, mhm? Or maybe it’s to strengthen Terstus’s position in the clan?

“Of course. We might not be blood-related, but we are family, are we not?”

At least I think we are family, by marriage, of course.

Sededa covered her mouth. “You would…even after I betrayed you?”

I snorted and shook my head. “I would prefer if you didn’t make me repeat myself so much, Sededa. I harbor no ill will toward you or your family. There are plenty of people who deserve my wrath in this world, and you are not even at the bottom of the list. Any negative feelings you have are simply in your imagination.”

She averted her eyes and let out a soft sigh. “Sededa…Silvershadow…”

“Silvershadow?” I repeated.

She nodded more firmly this time. Mmm, Silvershadow? That’s a unique family name. So far, every member of this clan puts shadow before another word. So putting silver in front must have some sort of meaning.

The Silvershadow family must have a certain amount of power within the clan as well if this tent setup is anything to go off of. Perhaps if the Shadowstorm family are the royals, then the Silvershadow family are the nobles?

I have so many questions.

“What can you tell me about shamans? I’ve never—”

“Kal we—are… finished…” Dad threw open the tent flap, and his words trailed off mid-sentence, and he looked down at Sededa and me. “You…seem familiar.”

Sededa quickly repositioned herself and bowed her head to the floor. “It’s an honor to meet you, Chief Shadowheart. I am Sededa Silvershadow.”

Dad’s eyes widened slightly at her last name, but he nodded. He scratched his chin and narrowed his amethyst eyes at her. “Your mother…are you Zydrae’s daughter?”

Sededa shot up quickly and bounced her head a few times. “Yes,I am.”

“To think she would have a child…” Dad muttered to himself as he looked over his shoulder. “Would you mind satiating my curiosity for a moment, Sededa?”

“Of course, sir, anything. My mother held you in high regard and said she owed you her life,” Sededa said quickly, her nervousness disappearing in that same instant.

Mmm…she seems pretty serious about this.

Dad scratched the back of his head and smiled faintly. “I never imagined she would speak so highly of me. Well, you can start by cutting the formalities with me, Sededa. I would prefer it if you just called me Mr. Shadowheart.”

“Ah, yes, of course, as you wish,” she said as she straightened her back.

Dad sighed but kept going with a wry smile. “I have to know, who is your father?”

“My father’s name is Janos—”

Dad let out a muffled gasp as he genuinely seemed surprised. “Wait, are you being honest? Is your father really Janos?”

Perhaps not expecting that reaction Sededa shrank away slightly. “Yes…he is…” she said weakly.

Dad rubbed his face and let out a groan. “Never in my life did I imagine those two would have a child, let alone together,” he muttered in disbelief. Dad eyed Sededa through his fingers but nodded. “But I suppose I do see Janos in you. You got his eyes.”

Sededa’s ears turned light pink, and she nodded. Dad sighed and looked at me. “Ready?”

“Did you finish your business?” I asked while standing up.

“I did. It went far better than expected.” Dad raised an eyebrow as I looked at him expectantly, but he just chuckled. “I promise to explain my reasons soon, okay?”

We both moved to leave, and I waved to Sededa. Dad smiled and looked over his shoulder at her. “It was nice meeting you, niece.”

Sededa was left with a shocked look, kneeling on a pillow in the middle of the tent. “Is what you just learned that much of a surprise?”

Dad snorted and shook his head. “Let’s just say I would have bet my life savings on Sededa’s mother never having a child. She’s a bit older than me and was the perfect definition of a prude. Honestly, I can’t believe it was with Janos either. To think—”

Dad’s words trailed off again, and his eyes went wide. He looked utterly shocked, as if the puzzle pieces in his head finally snapped together. Then a bitter smile formed and tugged on his lips as his eyes hardened.

“Seems like that was probably my fault as well…” he whispered to himself.

I decided not to comment on that remark. I felt that empty words wouldn’t help my father right now. I’d say being down in the dumps wouldn’t help him either, but I already had a feeling I knew where his head was right now.

It was far better to prepare for the task at hand.

—

We arrived at the front of the large tent only to see Uncle Parhen waiting for us with his arms crossed. Two sizeable black metal braziers were lit and emitted a rather bitter-smelling smoke at both sides of the tent’s entrance. The commotion from the tent was loud as voices trickled out from it. People were already shouting at each other.

“You’re late,” Uncle Parhen complained.

Rather than meeting his complaint, Dad shrugged. “I had important matters to attend to.” Dad looked up at the sky. “And it appears that I have arrived at sundown as requested.”

I smirked slightly at that. It’s true that it was sundown but barely so. The night was nearly upon us, and the light from the sun was already receding, as was the warmth.

Uncle Parhen clicked his tongue and turned toward the tent. “Follow me. I imagine you already understand where you will be sitting.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Dad’s face remained placid at Uncle Parhen’s barbed tone. “And what of Kaladin?”

Uncle Parhen turned his head slightly. “He can sit with you.”

I watched as Dad’s hands balled into a fist. “That is not acceptable. Kaladin has—”

Uncle Parhen interrupted my father with a groan. “Will you shut up? I’ve held my tongue thus far out of nothing more than respect for Illyssia. You brought him here of your own accord. I never once mentioned that Kaladin had to accompany you, so the fault lies purely with you. Send him home immediately if you don’t want him here.”

Dad looked over at me, but I shook my head. “I’m staying, so don’t even ask me to leave again, Father.”

Dad scratched the back of his head and nodded, but I didn’t miss how he clenched his jaw. I wasn’t sure what the seating arrangement for this event meant, but there was clearly some kind of significance that was going over my head. Of course, I wasn’t expecting a banquet to be held, so I didn’t understand why where we sat mattered.

I suppose it would only have been a problem if Dad strolled up to a throne or something.

Nothing else was said between us as we entered through a series of tent flaps. Naturally, the sound increased, as did the heat. I could already feel sweat pooling under my cotton shirt and regretted wearing it almost instantly.

Oddly enough, it didn’t smell bad in the tent, though. I supposed that was due to Elves not really having much body odor, to begin with. But the bitter smell of the smoke was more pungent here than it was outside.

Uncle Parhen parted one entrance, and standing in a line were two rows of four men and women, all wearing similar pitch-black armor with spears. Some of them had accessories here and there, and their spears were all different lengths to match the users’ heights, but for the most part, they were uniform in appearance.

So…eight Shadow Dancers here, Uncle Parhen and Janos, Aunt Illyssia, Dad, that one guard outside the shaman’s tent…mmm, so there are quite a few Shadow Dancers then. There are more than I expected. Then again, it’s only been thirty years since the end of the war, so it would make sense that the Shadow Clan have been attempting to bolster their number of Shadow Dancers.

I scanned their masked faces, but I couldn't discern anything. Most of them had their eyes closed, or perhaps their masks hid their eyes from the outside. Regardless, they said nothing and didn’t move an inch upon our arrival. Instead, they stood there with their backs straight and spears at attention.

Uncle Parhen opened the final partition, and the swelling heat and loud voices crashed into me like a tidal wave. It was like a sauna with far too many people, and the chatter cut off instantaneously. Finally, there was a loud woosh as dozens of eyes and heads turned toward the entrance.

I saw a myriad of emotions flicker across the dozens of faces. Some looked surprised and relieved, others angry and bitter, and there were a few that looked more interested than anything. The tent's space was rather ample, and from a quick headcount, I saw about sixty or so people packed into the room.

Most of them kneeled on pillows on the floor, but my eyes naturally drifted toward the front of the room. The floor was elevated slightly, giving it the impression of a tribal throne. The pillows that everyone else was sitting on looked rather bare, almost like they had brought them from home. But the ones up there were clearly higher quality.

I saw purples, whites, and silvers. They were obviously dyed, and I never caught a glimpse of a silver lining under the legs of a familiar face.

Aunt Illyssia smiled kindly at me, and instead of her armor, she wore a black skirt that covered her thighs, and a piece of fabric covered her upper chest, which left her midsection exposed. Honestly, it looked far more comfortable than anything. She didn’t even seem to be sweating.

Sitting next to her was Terstus. Much like the rest of the men in the room, he was shirtless and only wore a pair of simple black pants. Despite not getting along with him all that well, I had to admit that Terstus was in good shape. At least, he appeared to be from a glance. I doubted he shrank away from his training as he had a healthy amount of muscle on him that surpassed me.

Well, that’s hardly fair. It’s not like I’m not putting my best foot forward. My biology and genetics are simply holding me back against my will. Damn…how annoying…maybe I can find a natural steroid or something…

From there, centered in the middle and at the highest part of the throne, sat a large man on a lush purple and silver pillow big enough for three or four people. I doubt I was able to hide my surprise. Despite instinctively knowing he was my grandfather, it was my first time seeing an Elf that looked like him.

He and Dad resembled each other in the face somewhat, but that was where the similarities stopped. His eyes weren’t a deep amethyst but a burnt orange. His expression was stern, yet he was undoubtedly a handsome man. His long, raven black hair went well past his hips if he were to stand and spill out onto the floor next to him.

But that wasn’t all…he looked…older…he must be in his Final Decade.

The Final Decade was for an Elf who had reached the end of their natural life span. It wasn’t as if the Elf would suddenly die in ten years, but it was just a term to explain an old Elf. And considering that Elves were hardly immortal and could die just as easily as any other race, reaching to be three hundred and fifty years or older was quite a feat, especially if one considered the harshness of this world.

And the only reason I said he looked older was that he didn’t appear to be in his early twenties like every Elf I had seen. Instead, he had soft wrinkles around his eyes, and his general appearance had a more mature atmosphere. If he were a Human, I’d say he was on the fresh side of his late forties. So, all things considered, Elves aged gracefully.

His attire was utterly different from everyone else’s, and there was a part of me that felt bad for him. He wore a thick black coat that covered his entire body. The silver fur was practically bursting out from the collar, and that thing looked like a death trap in this heat. Yet, he seemed utterly unbothered. Not even a bead of sweat appeared on his forehead…which was worrisome.

He clearly doesn’t look thrilled to be reunited with his long-lost son…or to see his grandson for the first time…

Uncle Parhen claimed the steps and sat down next to Aunt Illyssia. Dad led the way as all eyes watched us in silence as we..sat in chairs?

What the…these wooden chairs just seem so off in this environment. It’s almost like they are chairs of shame or something. And there are two of them, which means they were clearly expecting me or someone else to accompany Dad. They are kind of uncomfortable as well.

I sat with a sigh and scanned the room once more. Since I wasn’t taught what to do, I didn’t feel the need to tread cautiously. If anyone felt I was being disrespectful, they could say it to my face.

The silence dragged on for what felt like ages until, finally, a deep voice cut through it. “What do you have to say for yourself, Alanis?”

His voice was tinged with an undertone of threats, but Dad did not waver. “What is there to say that you don’t already know? I survived my assassination attempt, was flung into the depths of a dungeon, crawled my way out, and started a family.”

Grandpa Shadowtorm narrowed his orange eyes at the shape of crescent moons. A mixture of frustration and annoyance flickered on his face. “Is that all you have to say?” he asked pointedly.

Dad took a moment to ponder the question. What he thought at that moment, I wasn’t confident in discerning because his face remained coolheaded. Even his entire demeanor was neutral. He kept his hands in front of him and his back straight. Dad’s unwavering eyes stared forward.

Has he come to a decision? What is he going to say?

Dad shut his eyes slowly. “Yes, that’s right. I have nothing else to say to you or to anyone else,” Dad said simply.

Upon hearing Dad’s statement, the room erupted into conversation. Insults were thrown his way as people yelled at him for betraying the clan and leaving them without a word. Others simply rested their faces in their hands, seemingly unable to fathom what Dad had said or perhaps trying to discern a deeper meaning behind his words.

There was a quick ruffling noise as Grandpa Shadowstorm raised his hand into the air. The chatter and verbal assaults ceased in the blink of an eye.

Grandpa Shadowstorm let out a long-winded sigh and scratched his head. Unlike when Dad did it, he was clearly not embarrassed but frustrated instead. “Is that it? Truly? Why did you not return to us? Why did you not at least send notice of your survival?”

“Because I didn’t feel the need to. Once I escaped the dungeon, any thoughts of returning here left me. And if I notified you of my survival, you would have sent people to find me, no?”

Here…Dad didn’t call this place home but another noun…

“That should go without saying. We would have spent everything to retrieve you. You were our Chief,” Grandpa Shadowstorm said venomously, his anger clearly rising.

“There is no doubt my time as Chief was short, probably the shortest in the clan’s history, but I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made,” Dad added.

Grandpa Shadowstorm nodded and closed his eyes. He leaned back and tilted his head up. “Then will you return to us and face punishment for your transgressions?”

Dad’s calm facade dropped. He glared daggers at his father and spoke without hesitating for a second. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

Like lighting a match in a room full of gunpowder, everything exploded at once. Those who were confused were swept away by the anger. Nearly every voice was shouting expletives at maximum volume. It was bad enough that everything seemed just to meld together, almost as if it was a single voice doing the yelling.

And it was then that I finally understood the reason we were sitting in the middle of these chairs. The feeling of isolation from the group was real. These chairs were most likely here to serve as a form of barrier from the majority, or perhaps it was just a way to isolate the individual.

I imagine it would be hard to spit vitriol at somebody who was kneeling right next to you. But when your face and voice blended into the crowd, it was pretty easy to scream and shout at the isolated. They were an easy target. I found it hard to believe that, individually, any one of these people would repeat what they said to my father’s face in a one-on-one situation.

It was also odd. It was probably the first time in my life that I felt truly ignored. Despite being right next to my father, all the ire in this room was directed at him, not me. I didn’t even hear anyone say my name or mention my appearance.

But not everybody was yelling and screaming. I looked over at Aunt Illyssia's chagrined smile. Perhaps Dad’s attitude was completely different from what she or anyone else had expected. Terstus and Uncle Parhen sneered down at us unapologetically with triumphant expressions.

It made me want to stand up and wipe those looks off their faces.

Grandpa Shadowstorm kept his eyes closed. A deep look of displeasure on his features as anger welled up in him. I checked Dad to see his expression, but he remained stoic in the face of all this contempt. His choice was clear.

He chose Mom. He chose Dallin. He chose me. He chose his family.

I let out a sigh of relief that I hadn’t realized I was holding onto. There was a deep-seated, irrational part of me that was afraid that Dad would acquiesce to any demand made of him. That he would do anything to protect us.

But instead of cowering away, he decided to stand tall despite knowing that this would probably happen. Feelings of happiness rose in my chest and made my heart race; if the situation had allowed it, I might have cried a little. It felt terrific…no, it felt fantastic to hear those words. It made me feel proud. No, I didn’t feel proud. I was proud.

This is what it means to be a father. Or at least…that’s what I think. I suppose I should take notes.

But since the crowd’s assault had failed to rile my father or even get a reaction out of him, things naturally shifted because of that. The name-calling of traitor and bastard morphed into something else far more dangerous. The voice called for punishment. And none of them said a single word about spending time in a jail.

I looked at Dad, and his stoic face hardened. I knew that look well. It was the look of someone determined to fight with everything they had. But I didn’t plan on letting things get to that point. Despite Dad’s words, I’d never leave him here alone. Ever. But hearing the voices, it seemed that…mmm…

Perhaps it’s time for me to—

“What are all of you even saying?!” a voice spat. The rage and indignation in the voice were clear enough to silence the single voice that had dominated the room.

Aunt Illyssia stood from her seat and scowled at those below her. Her muscles bulged, and a vein ran across her right cheek. “All of you… you are nothing more than spineless Conestases! How could even half of you speak in such a way?! Have you no shame?!” she yelled.

Aunt Illyssia scanned the room, looking for somebody to answer, but not a single voice dared to raise a complaint with the fuming woman. “Most of you wouldn’t be drawing breath if it wasn’t for Alanis! You wouldn’t even have sons or daughters! How can you show such flagrant behavior toward the man who led you into battle from the front for hundreds of years?!”

Aunt Illyssia glared at a particular section of the room. It was true that most of them seemed to be warriors, their dark-skinned faces and bodies harbored many white scars, and even a few of them appeared to be in their Final Decade as well. Some of them may have even been retired Shadow Dancers judging by their physique and atmosphere. Of course, I could find out, but I had no intention of blinding myself with Soul Sight.

Under Aunt Illyssia’s glare and harsher rebuke, the room seemed to shrink ever so slightly. Perhaps her words carried immense weight as the daughter of the chief, the sister of the former chief, and the mother of the next chief. I suppose she was also an accomplished Shadow Dancer that was entrusted with guarding the royal family of Luminar.

Just when the tides seemed to have turned in our favor, another voice spoke out. “Dear, I do believe you are aware of the laws of this clan. There are no secrets among us. We are all aware of what it means to desert the clan, especially in a time of war,” Parhen said coldly.

Aunt Illyssia looked down at her husband with a shocked expression. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

“The appropriate punishment for a traitor is death.”