Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Council Hall
Where the Past Reaches Forward
No one spoke, Bria simply stared.
Great-granddaughter.
The word echoed through her mind. Impossible, and yet the moment she looked into the woman’s eyes, she felt something stir deep inside her. Something familiar, something she could not explain.
The woman smiled gently and held her arms out.
Bria did not think nor question. She crossed the room and stepped into her embrace.
Strong arms wrapped around her and held her close. Warmth spread through her instantly. Not the warmth of a hearth. Not the comfort she offered others through her gift.
This was different. It settled deep inside her and eased an ache she had never fully acknowledged existed.
Love.
Pure and unconditional, just as her parents loved her.
Tears burned unexpectedly in her eyes. She had never met this woman, yet somehow, she felt as though she had known her all her life.
The embrace tightened, and that was when Bria felt it. Something beneath the love… urgency. As though time itself was slipping away.
The sensation startled her.
Wynn’s lips brushed her ear. “There is so little time.”
The whispered words sent a chill through Bria. She drew back enough to look at her. The warmth remained in Wynn’s eyes. The love remained. But now Bria saw something else there… worry.
Behind her, Kaelan stepped closer, not enough to intrude, but more than enough to protect.
His hand settled against the small of her back, a simple touch. A reminder that she was not facing this alone.
“My great-grandmother,” she whispered, still struggling to believe it.
Wynn smiled. “Aye, child.”
The simple answer brought fresh tears to Bria’s eyes. She had spent her life believing that her parents were the only family she had. Never once had she imagined someone waited for her here
Wynn brushed a loose strand of hair away from Bria’s face. The familiarity of it startled Bria. It was something her mum had often done when she was young and her hair forever messy.
“You have your mother’s eyes,” Wynn said softly.
Bria’s breath caught. Few people spoke of her mother anymore. The words stirred memories she had not thought of in years.
“My mother never spoke of Driochmor.”
“She couldn’t.” The sadness in Wynn’s voice was impossible to miss. “Your parents gave up much to protect what mattered most.”
Bria frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Wynn’s hand remained wrapped around hers. “All of it will make sense soon enough.”
Bria found herself impatient. She wanted answers now, wanted to know why her parents had never spoken of this place, and wanted to know why she felt as though the pieces of her life had suddenly shifted.
Yet for the moment, she found herself content simply holding Wynn’s hand.
The council remained respectfully silent.
Even Fiora had stopped talking, which might have been the most surprising thing of all.
Only Kaelan remained restless.
Bria felt it in the hand still resting against her back. His concern and the need to understand what danger threatened her. And how he might stop it.
Lord Oaken was the first to break the silence. “Your great-grandmother is not the only one who waited.”
Bria looked around the hall. “What do you mean?”
“It was never enough to preserve Driochmor,” Seren said. “We had to preserve knowledge as well.”
“The old gifts,” Rowan added quietly.
“The bloodlines,” Tavian said.
Marek folded his arms across his chest. “The future.”
Bria frowned. “I still do not understand.”
Wynn gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “When King Halric turned against magic, many believed he would eventually demand more than banishment.”
“He would never have been satisfied with Driochmor alone,” Seren said.
“He feared what he could not control,” Tavian added.
“And fear rarely remains contained,” Lord Oaken said.
“The council saw what was coming,” Marek said. “Not the details. Not the exact path. But enough.”
Bria listened carefully. “What did you do?”
“We prepared,” Wynn said.
“How?” Kaelan asked, intrigued but guarded.
Lord Oaken leaned back slightly. “We sent families into Scotara.”
Silence followed as that revelation settled in.
“Not exiles,” Seren corrected immediately.
“Volunteers,” Tavian said.
“Guardians,” Rowan offered.
Marek nodded. “Those willing to sacrifice their own desires for the future.”
Bria’s thoughts immediately turned to her parents. “My parents volunteered?”
“Aye, they did. They knew exactly what they were doing.” The pride in Wynn’s voice was unmistakable. “They left family behind. Friends. Their home. Everything familiar.”
“But why?” Bria asked.
“Because one day Scotara would need them.”
The certainty in Lord Oaken’s voice left little room for doubt.
“Need them for what?” Kaelan asked.
The room grew quiet.
Bria glanced at him and his arm went around her waist.
Lord Oaken met his gaze. “For what comes.”
Kaelan’s expression darkened. “War.”
“Aye,” Marek said. “The signs have been building for months now.”
“Drogath,” Rowan said.
“And unrest within Driochmor itself,” Tavian added.
“The people sent into Scotara carried more than bloodlines,” Wynn said. “They carried hope that when the time came, those touched by magic would stand beside Scotara rather than apart from it.”
Kaelan remained silent. But his thoughts churned. If what they said was true, then Bria’s parents had not hidden her. They had placed her exactly where the council wanted her. And if the king ever learned that families throughout Scotara had secretly preserved the old bloodlines…
His jaw tightened. The king would hunt them and how many innocent people would die because of it? The question lingered unspoken.
Yet Lord Oaken seemed to hear it all the same. “The king need never learn the whole truth.”
Kaelan’s gaze sharpened. “You would keep the news from the king that Tharne of Drogath seeks the remarkable healer as well.”
The room went still and even Fiora stopped moving.
Marek’s expression darkened. “Are you certain?”
“Aye.”
Lord Oaken exchanged a troubled look with Wynn and Tavian. “Neither of you felt an intrusion?”
Both shook their heads.
“A man called Dreth works with Ogga to find the healer and told her that Tharne put a spell on him, so he need not worry while in Driochmor,” Kealan said.
Bria frowned. “Who exactly is this healer?”
The council fell silent until at last Lord Oaken sighed. “A question that has plagued Driochmor for many years.”
“No one knows what is truth and what is tale anymore,” Wynn said.
“We know she exists,” Rowan added.
“Or existed,” Seren corrected.
“We know her mother hid her well,” Lord Oaken said. “So, well that even Driochmor lost sight of them.”
“And that frightened many of us,” Wynn admitted.
Bria looked from one face to another. “Why?”
“Because hidden power is often dangerous power,” Marek said.
A thoughtful silence followed and Bria wished she knew what everyone was thinking.
Then Lord Oaken rose. “Enough.”
Several heads turned his way.
The elder smiled. “For one evening at least, let us set aside talk of war, kings, and danger.”
Lord Oaken looked at Bria. “You have just discovered your great-grandmother is alive.”
A warm smile touched Wynn’s lips.
“I would say that warrants a small celebration,” Lord Oaken announced.
“And food,” Fiora proclaimed. “People always think better when fed.”
“You think everything can be solved with food,” Tavian said.
The fairy folded her arms across her chest from where she sat perched on the edge of the table. “I’m right. I’m always right, so I say we eat.”
Before long, everyone settled around one of the tables.
Bria found herself seated beside Wynn while Kaelan remained on her other side, staying close enough that his shoulder brushed hers.
Platters were passed around. Fresh bread. Stew rich with vegetables and herbs. Apples, pears, and honey cakes.
The simple meal tasted better than anything Bria could remember. Perhaps because for the first time in many days she was able to truly relax, or perhaps it was because she sat beside family.
She listened as Wynn shared stories of her parents.
Small stories. The kind that mattered. How her mother had loved gathering wildflowers when she was young.
How her father often collected a bunch for her when they first began seeing each other.
How neither of them could pass a stray animal without attempting to help it.
Bria laughed through tears more than once, her parents living once again through her great-grandmother’s words.
“They spoke of me?” she asked softly.
“You were everything to them,” Wynn said, “and me as well. My heart broke when they left for Leighfeld. You were barely six months. The Wise live long lives. I am heartbroken and surprised to learn that your mom and da have passed, not that your da was part of the Wise, but your mum should have had many years left.”
“An accident took Da, and Mum struggled with his passing. I think she missed him or perhaps living so long without her magic took its toll.” Emotion clogged Bria’s throat, recalling that time.
She cleared her throat and spoke then of Willowmere, it being too painful to talk anymore about her parents.
She talked about Old Brenn. Leya and Arella, of wreaths, seashells, and village celebrations.
Wynn listened intently, every word mattering to her.
Eventually Bria asked the question she had been carrying since arriving.
“My gift.”
Wynn reached across the table and covered Bria’s hand with her own. “Tomorrow.”
The single word held both promise and certainty.
“There will be time enough for questions then.”
Bria wanted to protest, eager to talk now but instead, a yawn escaped her. Another followed moments later.
“I believe your body agrees with me,” Wynn said.
Kaelan’s arm slipped around her. He had been watching her for some time, the way her eyelids drooped, and how she fought to stay awake.
“You had enough for one day.” His tone left little room for disagreement.
Bria was too tired to argue.
Lord Oaken looked to the fairy. “Fiora, would you be so kind as to show them to the visitor’s cottage?”