Ancestral Lineage

Ethan chatted briefly with Nethrix, absorbing far more than he expected from their short exchange. When the primordial being finally bid him farewell and vanished, silence reclaimed the void.

Floating alone in the endless expanse, Ethan's mismatched eyes glimmered faintly as he exhaled a long breath. The symbol etched on his forehead—the three interlocking golden rings—throbbed with radiant power, each pulse echoing like a thunderclap across the nothingness.

A brilliance erupted from him, blinding and absolute, washing over the void itself. When it dimmed, the titanic beast was gone.

In its place stood a man.

His hair spilled in silvery-white waves down to his waist, gleaming with the sheen of moonlight. His skin was a warm shade of light chocolate, smooth yet carrying the vitality of something beyond mortal. He towered at seven feet, a presence both regal and intimidating. His eyes—one silver, the other gold—burned with an uncanny intensity. His ears were sharp, though shorter than an elf's, the edges crowned with delicate tufts of white fur.

He wore almost nothing, only a pair of simple brown trousers, conjured instinctively in the shift to his humanoid form. Despite the plainness, it could not dull the majesty of his figure.

His aura expanded in a heavy wave, pressing against the void as though bending existence itself. With a deliberate inhale, he steadied his breath, drawing the overwhelming tide of his power back under control.

"Time to go home. I wonder how everyone is..." Ethan muttered with a nostalgic smile as his figure slowly disappeared, leaving an empty void, save for the planets and galaxies.

...

Trevor had only recently uncovered the truth of the battle—the way Zark had intervened, shielding the civilians and softening the devastation left in the wake of such titanic clashes. They were grateful, deeply so, that lives had been spared. Yet gratitude did little to soothe the unrest simmering inside.

What gnawed at them was Ethan's silence. After all that had transpired over the last two decades, after all the bonds they had forged and the trust they thought had been earned, Ethan still acted alone. Still made choices as though they were fragile things, too delicate to carry the weight of truth. The anger and frustration that brewed in Trevor's chest wasn't misplaced—it was the sting of being kept at arm's length by someone who should have had faith in them.

"What are you lot sulking about?"

The voice was deep, serene, and impossibly familiar. It swept through the dining hall like a current of calm thunder, cutting through their thoughts.

They sat together in the massive hall, the long table set with steaming dishes. Outside, the full moon bathed the garden in argent glow, its silver light spilling past the tall windows. A chill crept in with the night air, a reminder that winter was near.

The aroma of roasted meats, seasoned stews, and fresh bread filled the room, though not every chair was occupied. The places of Lamair, Jerry, Reginald, and Carmen remained empty. Even so, the gathering retained a fragile warmth—until the voice stirred it into something more.

It came from the head seat. The seat reserved for him.

Ethan.

"Daddy!"

Delphina's cry shattered the silence as she bolted forward, flinging herself into his arms. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, her small frame trembling with joy. Around the table, shock melted into something else—love, longing, relief. His wives' eyes brimmed with emotions they had carried for days, while his parents smiled softly, his father's face radiant with pride and a happiness too vast to contain. Something in his gaze hinted he knew more than the rest.

Emily, Sixtie, Lusamine, Cassandra, Amara, and their children all wore bright smiles, their hearts unburdened at the sight of his return.

Yet not every heart shared in the moment. One figure sat unmoved, their expression shadowed, weighed down by something heavier than reunion.

"Welcome back, son!" Zark's booming laughter filled the hall as he rose, pulling Ethan into a crushing embrace. Regnare followed swiftly, arms wrapping around his father. Though often cold and aloof before others, with his family, Regnare never hid his warmth.

"Master got a new look!" Saareiya blurted out with a dazzling smile, her eyes practically glowing with fanatic delight. "Master even got my hair color!!!" she squealed, making Maverick scowl and pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"Welcome back, bossman. Don't think I've forgotten our battle," Stygian said smoothly, his purple hair briefly shimmering with light.

Others joined in, their voices overlapping in a chorus of welcomes and congratulations. The hall filled with joy, laughter, and relief, the long weight of absence seemingly shattered in that single moment.

All, except one.

Trevor said nothing. He didn't so much as glance at Ethan. His food sat before him, untouched, the flavor gone, dulled by the storm in his chest. He chewed mechanically, as if to mask the fact that every bite tasted of ash.

I suppose I'll go find some blood... It's been too long since I last drank.

The thought came bitter, sharp, a distraction more than a desire. Abruptly, he pushed back his chair, the scrape echoing through the hall like a crack of thunder. The suddenness of it drew every eye to him.

"I'll be retiring for tonight," Trevor said, forcing a smile that never reached his eyes. "Enjoy the meal, everyone." Hands shoved into his pockets, he turned and strode out before anyone could stop him.

"Trev…" Emily's voice was soft, reaching out, but her words fell to silence as the doors closed behind him.

The room lingered in uneasy quiet. They all knew why he had left, and none tried to follow. Everyone—his wives, his parents, his companions—understood the root of Trevor's pain. They had all felt it, in some measure, the sting of Ethan's secrecy, the sense of being shielded like children. They had learned to accept it, to forgive it, even if it still weighed on them.

But Trevor was different.

Trevor wasn't just Ethan's brother. He had been Ethan's best friend long before blood confirmed what their bond had already proved. For him, this wasn't only frustration—it was betrayal. The kind that cut deep.

Yes, Ethan had guided them, carved paths no one else could. He had saved them countless times, built futures for them with his strength. But what was the worth of all those paths, Trevor thought, if Ethan never trusted them enough to walk them on their own? If he still carried the burden as though they weren't ready, as though they were still fragile, still in need of shelter?

That was the wound Trevor carried as he vanished into the night.

"What's wrong? Am I missing something?" Ethan finally asked, his voice breaking the silence that had grown too heavy to ignore.

Lisa leaned back with a wry smile, though her eyes betrayed unease. "Do you want the good news first or the bad news?"

"Bad news," Ethan answered immediately, confusion knitting his brow. Why bad news? The war was over. Shouldn't there only be good news?

"Trevor's angry with you," Lisa said, her tone edged with worry.

Ethan frowned. "For what reason?"

"For hiding the truth from him."

"What tru—wait!" Ethan's eyes widened, realization dawning like a hammer to the chest. "He found out? You guys… you all found out?" His sudden movement nearly caused Delphina to slip from his lap.

"Yes," Harley's calm voice flowed like still waters, serene yet firm. "And we are not happy about it. Especially not your best friend."

Ethan turned sharply toward the head of the table. "Dad?" His voice carried an edge, demanding an explanation.

Zark's expression was calm but unyielding. "They are not children, Ethan. You can't shield them forever. Sooner or later, they were bound to learn the truth."

Ethan let out a long breath, forcing himself to ease the tension coiling in his chest. "…Fine. What's the good news then?" Even as he asked, a strange chill ran down his spine. His brow furrowed. Wait… I'm immune to cold, right?

Lisa smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. "Clara, Andriel, Carmen, and Elaine are pregnant."

The words hit like a thunderbolt. Ethan froze, eyes wide, then slapped his hand over his face.

"Fuck! I'm dead!" he exclaimed, the dining hall erupting into laughter at his expense.

The hall burst into laughter at Ethan's expense, even the usually composed Regnare cracking a smirk.

"Dead?" Lisa chuckled. "More like enslaved. You're going to be running around with five pregnant women, Ethan. Good luck surviving that."

"Don't forget the cravings," Lusamine added with a sly grin. "You'll be out hunting at midnight for gods know what food combinations."

"And the mood swings!" Cassandra chimed in, giggling. "May the heavens protect you."

Ethan's golden and silver eyes darted around the table in horror. "Wait—what?! All at once?! No, no, this is a conspiracy! You all plotted this to kill me, didn't you?"

"Master," Saareiya said with starry-eyed devotion, "this only proves your greatness. Even your seed is—"

"Shut it, Saareiya!" Maverick groaned, rubbing his temples.

Zark's hearty laughter boomed through the hall, shaking the tableware. "Ah, son, this is the price of being a king and a husband. Battles are easy. This… this is where the true war begins!"

"Father, you're supposed to be on my side!" Ethan shouted, pointing dramatically.

"I am," Zark said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "That's why I'm laughing now, before it gets truly bad."

Even Emily was laughing softly, though she tried to hide it behind her hand. Delphina, still clinging to Ethan, tilted her head innocently. "Daddy, does this mean I'll have lots of new brothers and sisters?"

Ethan groaned, slumping back into his chair in defeat. "Yes, princess… it means exactly that. And it also means your daddy won't be sleeping for the next nine months."

The laughter rose again, filling the hall with warmth and mischief. Yet beneath it, the shadow of Trevor's absence lingered—unspoken, but felt by them all.