"Please… my whole life has been chaos. Why is my hair different? Why are my eyes blue when both my parents have brown? Why do I always turn east when everyone else goes west? Why is everything with me so damn complicated?
I've always had questions—too many. And whenever I asked, no one wanted to answer. But now you're finally talking, and I'm begging you… Just make this easier for me," I pleaded.
"You're right. It's time I told you. I might not have answers to all your questions, but I do have many," she said, sitting back as her hand found mine.
I wasn't ready to hear it—I never would be. Especially not this. Not the truth I was about to face.
"Years ago, when our father was just a boy, Mistwood was a haven for all children like us. And by all, I mean everyone—even the wolves."
I cut in. "Wolves?"
She nodded. "Yes. Wolves, phoenixes, all kinds of gifted children. But witches? No. We never accepted them—their twisted ways, the human sacrifices, the rituals. Their darkness.
The rest of us stood united. That unity angered them. So, the witches sent one of their own. Her name was Monroe. She came while the commander was training, and two of our students were practicing nearby.
One was a phoenix—Allen, the commander's son. The other was Mason, the Alpha's youngest.
In a training match, face to face, Allen suddenly fought like a seasoned sword master. Something in him snapped. He lost control.
And he killed Mason."
They say his eyes turned red as blood. My grandfather saw it himself—a beautiful woman, half-hidden behind a pillar, her lips moving like she was whispering a spell.
Allen never meant to kill Mason. Something took over him. The moment Mason fell, Allen collapsed too—unconscious, drained. But the wolves didn't wait for explanations. They returned to their Alpha, seething with rage. No questions. No trial.
They declared war.
And it was brutal.
We all lost too much. In the end, for the sake of the young, both sides agreed to part ways forever. No crossing paths. No more contact.
But another group turned their backs on us, too: the people of the river.
Back when the wolves were preparing for war, the Lady of the River made a deal to keep her lands safe. In exchange for peace, she promised her firstborn daughter to the Alpha's son—or the Alpha himself.
Her people never raised a weapon against us, but from that day, they wanted nothing to do with us. And time passed.
Eventually, the Lady of the River gave birth to a daughter, eyes like the sea, just like yours. She named her Liana.
But she raised her on fear.
Told her the Phoenixes were evil. Because fire meant destruction. Can you believe that?" She let out a bitter laugh.
"Still… Lady Liana was nothing like her mother. She didn't care for power or tradition. She snuck out of the palace often, just to breathe, to feel free. One day, while playing with children in the village, a little boy asked her to pick an apple. She climbed the tree, reached for it…
And fell.
She screamed, and the children scattered to find help. Your father, Raymond, was passing by. He heard her cry, rushed to her side, and carried her back to our home.
It took days for her to heal. But in that time, something else happened.
She saw how we lived. How your father cared for her. And she fell in love.
Everything her mother had told her began to unravel.
When she recovered, she returned home and told her mother everything. But her mother was furious. She forbade her from ever speaking of it again. Told her she'd already summoned the wolves to find her. They'd be arriving soon. And she was forbidden—completely—from ever seeing a Phoenix again.
But your father and Lady Liana couldn't stay apart.
They kept meeting in secret.
Until one day, her mother saw them from the window. That night, she locked Liana in the dungeon.
Yes. Her own daughter."
Her voice shook with anger.
"Your father didn't give up. When he realized she was gone, he went back for her. He found her and freed her—and they ran.
For a while, they stayed ahead. But on the day you were born, the wolves finally caught up.
One of our scouts had warned us—an entire wolf army was heading their way. All of our brothers and their wives found your mother and father first, just in time to warn them.
But wolves run faster than anyone else."
When we arrived, we saw her—Lady Liana—glowing with joy, cradling two beautiful babies in her arms. One of them was a boy. She was radiant. But that day, she made the hardest choice of her life.
My brother and sister-in-law knew, deep down, it was the last time they would hold you.
Before the wolves could reach them, your mother handed you to James and Mary, and your brother to Nile. They swore to protect you both. I was too young then, too helpless. So both of my brothers and their wives took you and disappeared into the forest.
The moment they were gone, my brother and I turned to face the werewolves. I was struck and thrown into the lake. They left me, thinking I was dead.
When I woke, I ran toward the room where my sister-in-law had been resting." Her voice broke, tears sliding down her cheeks. "But it was too late...
They were both gone. My brother lay with a sword through his back, still holding her hand. And she… she was on the bed, lifeless. She couldn't take the grief. Everything she had was taken from her in a single day."
She gripped my hands, her face red with anguish.
Her eyes said everything. The years she carried this pain alone. And now, someone was finally listening. Her hands trembled as the tears kept falling.
"I dropped to my knees. I had nothing left. I cried until I couldn't breathe. And when I came back…" she swallowed, "I was pulling the ropes of the cart that carried both their bodies."
I was injured, covered in blood and dust. That's when I saw, where our school—our home—once stood, there were only ruins." She wiped her tears.
"They attacked while we were defenseless. Smoke, rubble… only a few children and elders had survived. I stood there, broken, and told them my brothers had died fighting those monsters. I promised we'd rebuild. And I would protect them.
The elders named me headmistress. It took years to rebuild this place," she looked around slowly, "brick by brick, with my companions."
She didn't even realize when she broke down, sobbing into my shoulder like a child.
That's when I understood the bond I felt with her—it wasn't just blood. It was grief. It was the echo of loss.
"At least Brian is my biological brother," I whispered, almost relieved.
"I'm not talking about Brian," she said, sitting back and wiping her tears. "Brian is James and Mary's son. Your brother… his name is Liam."
Her words hit me like a storm. I felt the strength drain from my hands. Liam. The one name I never wanted to hear again—not since I lost my father.
I needed to steer my mind away. Because if I didn't, she would start defending him… telling me he wasn't what I thought. But I needed to blame someone. And if not him, then who?
There was no other explanation for what I saw that night.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone," I said, wrapping my arms around her. "But there's something I still don't understand. You said the Lady of the River made that promise when your grandfather was young… so wouldn't that make my mother way too old?"
"I knew you'd ask," she smiled. "No, she was 16, and your father was 22."
Then she added with a faint smirk, "And before you ask, her mother was immortal. I mean… is immortal."
She wasn't sure if the Lady of the River was still alive, so we let that part go.
Noticing how the weight of everything had crushed my mood, she shifted the tone. "You know, your grandmother—she married…" she started counting on her fingers, "eight men. Or so we were told. Every time she had a son, she'd kill the husband and let her maids raise the boy—until he was old enough to serve her."
She paused. "Wait, maybe it was nine… no, eight. I lost count. She was desperate for a daughter!"
She wiped her cheeks, clearing the last of her tears. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dumped all this on you. I just couldn't keep you in the dark any longer."
"No, you did the right thing," I said. "Even if I still feel numb. Even if this all feels like a dream, I finally know the truth. I know the secrets my parents kept from me." My heart was broken, but a strange, fragile relief settled in.
"There must be a reasonable explanation," she said gently, patting my shoulder.
"Yeah, maybe there's a reasonable explanation," I echoed bitterly. "A reason why I've been lied to my whole life. A reason why my biological brother killed my dad."
I had so many questions. So much anger. And my father wasn't here to answer any of them. I needed to ask my mom.
"What?" she gasped. "Liam killed James? That can't be true!"
I regretted saying it. She'd barely stopped crying, and now I'd shattered her again.
"There must be some mistake… but James…" Her voice broke as she collapsed onto my lap, sobbing like a child.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
We cried together—for the pain, for the lies, and for everything we could never take back.