Truths Laid Bare

Kealday, 24th of Selmaren, 7262
 
We told them everything.
 
Father, Mother, and Mom sat at one end of the hall, and Eva and I stood at the other, like petitioners before a throne. Theodric and Roland were there too, leaning against the wall like they’d rather be anywhere else. But they listened.
 
We told them how the Ambassador had tried to sacrifice the princess. How he was a member of the Black Thorne cult. How they were planning to shatter the wards that protect the kingdom so the Valtareth Imperium could march in unchallenged.
 
Eva was calm. Steady. She laid it all out, every detail. I tried to keep my voice from shaking. Tried to sound like someone they would believe.
 
I watched their faces. Father’s jaw tightened. Mother’s eyes darkened. Mom’s lips pressed thin. Theodric stopped leaning and stood straight. Roland crossed his arms and glared at the floor.
 
Then we told them the other part—the part about the Fatebound.
 
We told them that Eva and I took the oath. That we bear the mark now. That Orren, Vaelion, and the others do too. And that we have been tasked with protecting Lyrielle, a fairy in stasis—the last of her kind, as far as we know.
 
And then we said the thing that was hardest to believe: that everything we were taught about the fairies and dragons was wrong. They didn’t betray the world. They fought for it. They fought and they lost, and now their story is twisted into something monstrous.
 
told them that if it gets out that we’re protecting a fairy, it could bring danger down on the house.  If word of Lyrielle gets out to the wrong people—like the king or queen—we could lose everything. House, name, even our lives.
 
When we finished, there was silence.
 
Father was the first to speak. He stood, walked down the length of the hall, and stopped in front of me. He put a hand on my shoulder and said, “We will be ready.”
 
Then he called for Sir Alden Strathmoor and Steward Ellwick. We went over everything again—what the Ambassador did, how the Black Thorne operates, what we suspect about the wards and the Imperium. The Fatebound and Lyrielle remained family secrets—not out of distrust, but because they are ours to bear, and no one else's.  The discussion stretched late into the night, with Father and Theodric pressing for every detail, Sir Alden outlining defensive measures, and Ellwick taking notes on what supplies we had and what we’d need. The room felt heavy with the weight of it, but no one turned away.
 
They didn’t flinch. None of them did.
 
That’s what it means to be a Morvain.