Chapter 7: Chapter 7

AVERY

“Since the beginning of time,” my father began, “a hidden war had been raging between the forces of good and evil. But this battle was not only fought by humans—it was fought by beings that most people only knew from legends, fairytales, and ancient lore.

“However, what was dismissed as mere fantasy was in fact only a faint reflection of reality. Elves, fairies, demons, werewolves, witches, mermaids, ghosts, sylphs, vampires, and countless other creatures really existed.

“Some of them had been living in secret for thousands of years. Others had long since died out… and with each passing century, their ranks continued to dwindle.

“The war had claimed too many victims, and so the last of their kind had retreated in order to avoid being completely destroyed. But not all beings were as described in the stories.

“Not every demon was malicious, not every fairy pure and innocent. There were werewolves with a gentle disposition, demons who dedicated their lives to protecting the weak, and cruel fairies who knew no mercy.

“Witches that healed and vampires that cursed. The lines between good and evil were blurred, and the choice of side lay not in nature but in the heart of each being.

“The world as you knew it was just the surface. Beneath it lay a hidden world of magic, ancient secrets, and unresolved battles.

“And maybe… you weren’t even aware of who or what really lived next to you. Every creature had a spirit animal.

“A mythical animal that accompanied him throughout his life. We were connected to it on a deep emotional and spiritual level.

“We communicated with our animals via telepathy, and could sense each other’s feelings and thoughts. This covenant was your protector for a lifetime; it was faithful and devoted until your death.

“After that, it died because its meaning was connected to you. Each mystical species had its own powers that had evolved over time, and the spirit animals enhanced those powers.

“We called these animals Amicus. You were on Antaris.

“This was a safe place for all Mystic Beings of good intentions. Antaris was protected by a powerful spell that originated from the Tree of Power.

“And the only way in or out was through a portal made only by a good being. Antaris was created by my Elven ancestors and had been our home for thousands of years.

“But like us, evil had its home and it was called ~Portus Mali~. The port of evil.

“Many evil creatures lived there, but some came only to obey orders from the princes of darkness. You had already met the three princes of darkness.

“Unfortunately, they were the reason for your family’s death. Abbadon, Belial, and Amon were their names.”

***

Father sat bolt upright on his throne, his hands closed around the golden armrests as he told Iris the age-old story—the same words that had been ringing in my ears since childhood. My gaze lingered on Iris.

She was frozen, her fingers clutching the upholstery of her armchair so tightly that her knuckles stood out white. No twitch, no sigh, not even a blink.

Just this empty stare, as if with every sentence my father uttered she was looking deeper into a void she never saw coming. I could have finished the next sentences for him.

The lesson of good and evil we all had to learn. But it wasn’t a lesson for Iris—it was a slap in the face.

I could see her jaw tighten as if she was trying to crush the truth without a word. Father was talking about Antaris, about Portus Mali, about the three princes of darkness.

Abbadon. Belial.

Amon. The names rolled through the room like thunder.

Iris flinched as if she had been touched with red-hot iron. Her breath hitched and for a moment I thought she was going to jump up, run away, do something—but she stayed.

Trapped in the realization that her entire life had been a lie. My father continued speaking, his voice deep and heavy like a long-forgotten war.

“Your mother was Liora. One of the greatest warriors Antaris had ever known,” he said.

Iris’s breath hitched. I felt her pulse pounding wildly beneath my fingers.

“And your father…” My father hesitated, just a breath of a second, but I knew what was coming. “…Was Baldur. My best friend. My brother in spirit.”

Iris froze. The tears that had been pooling in her eyes burst forth, but she didn’t cry.

She just stared, as if the world was breaking beneath her. I could have spared her this.

I could have told her before my father did it. But what good would that do?

Nothing could have prepared her for that moment.

“That… It can’t be,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

I leaned forward, my fingers still wrapped around her hand, as if I could protect her from the shock. But it was in vain.

“Liora was more than just a warrior,” my father continued, and I felt Iris tremble at my touch. “She was a stormbringer. The last of her line—an elf who carried the blood of the old sky lords in her veins.”

This was new. Even I hadn’t known that.

My eyes shot to my father, but his expression remained impenetrable. “And Baldur…” He hesitated. For the first time in ages, I saw something flicker in his eyes—grief.

“He wasn’t just a lord of darkness. He was their leader. The First of the Four. The one who commanded the others to burn the worlds.”

Iris froze. “But… you said he changed…” she whispered.

“For love,” my father interrupted her, but his voice had become softer.

He glanced at me, and I could only shake my head. He wanted to tell her about soulmates.

How her father met Liora back then and found his mate in her. How this bond was unbreakable if you accepted it.

And Baldur accepted it; he turned his back on the darkness because of love. But to tell her that now, too, would be far too much.

“But love isn’t enough sometimes…” I could hear my father say as he turned his gaze from me to Iris again.

I was grateful that he had recognized my fear. It wasn’t time to explain all of this to her yet.

“My child… you were loved… So much,” Father said.

I knew that story. I had told it to Aidan when he woke up in the night crying for his sister.

I’d read it in the old books gathering dust in the forbidden chamber of the library. But she heard it for the first time today.

Iris’s breathing was shallow and fast. Her fingers clutched the armrests as if she couldn’t hold herself up otherwise.

I wanted to say something. Do something.

But what choice did I have? To take the truth away from her after she had only just found it?

“You were the crown of their love. First, you… then, a year later, your brother…” Father continued.

“Brother…” Iris repeated, her words full of surprise.

Aidan. My best friend. My brother, in everything except blood.

I remembered the nights when he lay in my bed crying because he couldn’t remember their faces. Their voices.

And now she was sitting here, his sister, whom he had missed his whole life.

My father continued to speak, and with every word Iris seemed to get smaller.

“When the Princes of Darkness found out that their brother had children with an Elf… They felt betrayed. But the realization that one of his children was carrying a part of his power… it led to war,” Father said.

“I have a brother,” Iris said, as if she was talking to herself.

A choked sob escaped Iris’s throat. Her tears were now falling freely, but she didn’t fight them back.

She let them flow, as if it was the only way to endure the pain.

“We had to separate you two. For safety reasons,” Father tried to explain.

And then—the last blow.

“They brought you to the humans. With no magic. Without memories,” he added.

Iris flinched, as if a dagger had been rammed into her ribs.

“A… a spell?” she gasped.

My father slowly nodded.

“To protect you. Unless you used your power, Abbadon couldn’t find you… Something went wrong,” he replied.

Father’s voice broke through the heavy silence like a gentle but unstoppable flow.

“But why?” asked Iris.

“If Abaddon had captured the child who had Baldur’s powers… we would all be lost,” Father replied.

She turned from Father to me, a questioning face. I could sense her fear.

“If you allow me, I’d like to show you something,” he said.

I watched as Iris looked up—her eyes still marked with tears, her hands shaking slightly. But she nodded. Got up. And followed him.

Ava crept beside me, her fingers clutching my sleeve as if she feared Iris would collapse at any moment.

I said nothing. Just moved. Step by step.

The hidden door opened with a soft sigh, as if it too would keep the secrets that lay behind it.

The room behind it was… different. Not just a place. A reminder. A warning.

I knew that hall. Every painting. Each treasure.

Every weapon on display, my father had explained to me years ago—in that calm but unyielding voice that tolerated no questions.

But for Iris, it was all new. I saw her breath hitch as she walked along the walls.

The portraits seemed to haunt her—the kings, the warriors, the heroes, and the fallen.

Their gazes were so vivid that even I sometimes had the feeling that they were judging me.

Iris’s fingers twitched, as if she wanted to touch something, but she held back.

Instead, her eyes glided over everything, as if trying to take in every detail.

Every piece of history that had been denied to her until today.

Father stopped at the far end of the room, in front of a single, large painting, separated from all the others.

I knew what hung there.

And I knew that this was the moment in which ~everything~ would change.