Hearing his father's words, for a moment, Rylan closed his eyes. He'd actually done it. He'd found his birth family. Or part of it, at least.

He still had many questions, of course, and he was fighting hard not to get too emotional, to reserve his judgment for when he'd heard all the facts, but that didn't take away from the reality that deep inside of him, a littler version of himself was bawling his eyes out.

When he reopened his eyes, the blood had drained from Leahna's face.

"W-What?" she stammered. "Dad, you... you had relations with someone other than mom? When? Why?!"

Artoran winced. "Ah... it's a little complicated, darling. Your mother and I were pretty young when we got together. Before we fully committed to each other, I was still... involved with another young lady; though I broke it off when your mother revealed to me that she was pregnant. I didn't learn that my other union had borne fruit as well until much later."

Rylan tried to keep his face straight. He'd had some time to come to terms with the likely fact that he had been born out of wedlock, but it still stung a little to hear it confirmed. At least it sounds like it wasn't one of the worse scenarios, like rape...

"But the Talons forbid..." Leahna trailed off, her eyes widening. "That's why they—that's why we lost everything! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME ABOUT THIS?!"

Artoran reached up for her but she stepped back, and he dropped his hand with a sigh. "Leah... knowing would've just put you at risk. Both of you."

Leahna gaped at him, her trembling hands clenched into fists. She glanced at Rylan, bewildered, then shook her head and stormed out of the room.

Artoran winced again at the slam of a door somewhere upstairs, then sighed. "Ah... I'm sorry about that. Ever since the start of my condition, Leah's taken the primary burden of my care upon herself. She tries to hide it, but I can tell how hard it has been on her this past season..."

Rylan nodded wordlessly, preoccupied with once again roving his eyes over the man's face, mapping the unfamiliar-yet-familiar lines, looking for similarities and differences.

Artoran looked back at him, and smiled, his eyes looking a little moist. "I must say, this is quite the surprise."

"Is it... a good surprise?" Rylan asked carefully, his stomach clenching in anticipation of rejection.

Artoran blinked. "Of course it is!" he spoke hastily, straightening up as if he was trying to get out of his chair, before seeming to realise it wasn't really an option. "You are my son, my flesh and blood, and I feared I would have to mourn you without ever even... getting to meet you."

The swirling emotions bubbling up inside of Rylan threatened to overwhelm him, and he wasn't prepared to show that kind of vulnerability to a near stranger, so he took a deep breath and changed the subject.

"What, ehm, what was she talking about just now?" he asked, his brows drawing together. "What do the Talons forbid? And what exactly happened to you?"

"Oh, ehm..." Before Artoran could fully form a response, he erupted into a fit of wracking coughs. He reached for a stone cup on the table, but his hand jerked and knocked into it, sending the cup wobbling and some water spilling over the edge. It took a few seconds for him to get a grip on it, but even after he brought his second hand over to stabilise it, his stiff fingers didn't seem to want to cooperate in the aftershocks of his coughing, and he failed to lift it off the table.

Even though he barely knew the man, seeing his father struggle with such an everyday task was a little heartbreaking, so Rylan leaned over the table and reached out to help Artoran lift the cup to his lips.

Some of the water ended up spilling down his cheek, but Artoran eventually managed to take a sip and put the cup down again.

"Thank you," Artoran breathed. "The spasms always get a little worse, when I'm, well... less than calm. Please have a seat, by the way. This isn't the kind of conversation to have while standing."

Unsure of what to say, Rylan just nodded. Glancing around, he found himself a wicker chair, pulled it up to the table, and sat down.

"So..." Artoran finally said, once his breathing had calmed down. "As you may or may not know, the Talons have some rather strict policies when it comes to... fathering offspring. That is to say, there aren't supposed to be any children born out of wedlock, and all offspring are supposed to be declared to them for registry."

"I take it I wasn't declared to them."

"You were not."

"Because if you had... they would've castrated me, right?"

Artoran closed his eyes. "Yes. They would have."

"You knew that would happen..." Rylan continued slowly, some anger mixing into the complicated mess of emotions roiling in his stomach. The man may be in a bad way now, but he clearly hadn't been at the time. "And yet, here I am."

"Yes, well—I won't pretend to have been some paragon of virtue and responsibility," Artoran replied sheepishly. "But you have to understand: those rules are not usually enforced for minor branches like ours. Either way, I wasn't intending to get any of the women I was courting pregnant... but I obviously did. Two at once, even, somehow. Your sister is only about a season older than you."

Rylan blinked. So Leahna is actually my older sister... by like sixty days. He frowned. "If those rules of the Talons aren't usually enforced, then why was I hidden from them? Why didn't you recognise me as your child? Or were you actually hiding me from your wife?"

"No, that wasn't—she actually... passed away in labour, together with our second child, before I ever learned of you."

Rylan closed his eyes for a moment. "Was it..."

"A boy."

A baby boy. He could've had a little brother.

Rylan took a deep breath, trying to suppress his churning emotions so he could continue his quest for answers.

"I swear, Rylan," Artoran said, his voice breaking a little. "I wanted to recognise you as my own, but by the time I learned of your existence... things had changed. You see, our branch has been in decline for a while. For quite some time, my grandfather was the only Quinthar in our family, as both my mother and I had failed to become one, despite spending most of our inheritance on resources. But in my thirties, I chanced upon the opportunity to obtain another Endurance Enhancer, and took it. It turned out to be the last piece of the puzzle I needed, and I unlocked my first Skill."

Rylan had been wondering why a noble branch—even a minor one—was living in such a small house in the lower ring. This explained a lot.

"However," Artoran continued. "When the Talons learned of my new status, they came knocking. They brought me somewhere on a ship, and took me down into the cloudsea blindfolded. Then they made me put my hand on something hard and cold, to take some kind of test. I guess they weren't happy with the result, because they made me sign a Contract that stated I would never access a 'console' or tell anyone anything about the main family's secrets. And there was a clause that forced me to inform them about any bastard offspring of mine, so they could be monitored and, in case they were male... neutered."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Rylan's brows drew together. "Wait, but if you're under Contract, how come you're able to tell me all of this?"

Artoran smiled wanly. "For the same reason I haven't been able to get up, even to give my long-lost son a hug."

Rylan stared at his father, his stomach sinking. "I feared your injury might've been something Ethereon's accelerated recovery can't fix, but that's not it, is it? You don't have access to Ethereon anymore, because... you broke the Contract."

"I did," Artoran confirmed. "I wasn't about to inform them about you, just so they could come and... you know. Unfortunately, when I failed to inform them within the specified window, the shackles came down on my Skills, and the Talons... knew, somehow. They didn't know how I'd violated my Contract, but they knew I had. So they came to question me. I lasted... as long as I could."

"So they did this to you?" Rylan demanded, for the first time feeling anger for his father, rather than against him. "Who? Who was it?"

"Vidric Talon," Artoran sighed. "Though he never deigned to touch me himself—he'd brought someone for that. He just asked the questions."

Rylan's stomach flipped. "The one who did this, then... it wasn't a dark-skinned girl with green eyes, was it?"

"Oh, no, it was a man. Real ugly clodmonger, big scar on his cheek. Though I do recall seeing a girl like that stand guard outside the room—think she was a bodyguard or something."

That was... still pretty fogged. Tamina had been there, had witnessed it happening. Rylan tried not to think about that too hard. "I see. So... you told him about me."

"I told him as little as I could to make him stop. Claimed I didn't know your name, your birthday, what you looked like... the sad truth is, most of that was true. But he did manage to get your mother's name out of me. So obviously, he knew where to go looking next."

Rylan stared at the man, uncomprehending.

Artoran stared back. "They never told you?" he asked, the dawn of comprehension on his face. "How could they not—"

"Artoran... who is my mother?" Rylan asked, half-anticipating and half-dreading the answer.

"It's... It's Helen. Helen Thistlethorn."

And there it was. The confirmation of a suspicion that had been steadily growing within Rylan from the very start of the conversation. Part of him wanted to gainsay it, tell Artoran that it couldn't be true, that he was lying. Part of him wanted to laugh. Part of him wanted to cry.

Most of him, however, felt numb.

Helen? Helen was his mother, really? The same woman who had chased after Soren and him for raiding her dresser and trying on her clothes?

"But... she's so young still," Rylan muttered.

"She was around your current age when she had you," Artoran said. "Don't look at me like that; I was only a few years older at the time!"

Rylan shook his head, still disbelieving. But then... he remembered how she would always sneak him treats on holidays. How she would read bedtime stories to him and Soren on their sleepovers. How she would tut at him and wipe smudges off his cheek, and smile wide whenever she saw him.

The vague impression of a female voice, singing a lullaby to him—all he'd thought he remembered of his mother—came back to him. Had that been Helen, singing to him? His... mother?

The world had gone blurry. Rylan took a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped at his eyes.

The final log on the pyre came when he remembered that Helen had always gifted him something on the day he'd been found, like the toy horse when he was eight, and later the warm, wool-lined leather coat and boots he'd had with him all along in the cloudsea. Or rather... she'd given those to him on his birthday. Because he hadn't been found; that had been a lie all along.

"Why didn't they recognise me as one of them?" he wondered aloud.

Artoran sighed. "I can't be sure, but... if I had to guess, it would be to avoid the scandal. My wedding would've been announced by the time Helen started to show, so you being born out of wedlock would've been unavoidable. Helen's marriage prospects would've been shot if it came out."

Rylan frowned. "Beatrice. She must've been behind this."

"Probably," Artoran agreed. "Your great-grandmother is a shrewd lady."

Rylan blinked. Right, if Helen was his mother, then they were all his family. Bryce and Dionne were his maternal grandparents, and that made Soren... his uncle?!

Spirits guide me...

[Boss, you should know that the girl just crept down the stairs, and is listening at the door,] Arphin warned him. [Do you think she's up to shenanigans?]

'No. It's fine, Arphin.'

Leahna's presence notwithstanding, he asked the question burning on the tip of his tongue. "If Helen had come to you first, revealed her pregnancy..." he started slowly. "Would you have married her?"

"Of course!" Artoran answered immediately. "Our courtship was still a bit new, but I really did like her, you know? There was just something about her..."

For a moment, Rylan allowed himself to wallow in the idea of how different his life could've been, if not for a twist of fate, of timing.

"I have to say, I'm a little surprised they managed to keep the secret from you," Artoran remarked. "Your eyes and nose may look more like mine, but you have her jawline and brows, and your hair is her exact shade of blonde."

"She dyes it," Rylan replied absentmindedly. "Silvery-blue to match her family. Has been doing so for years."

"Ah. That makes sense. She must've started with that to make the resemblance less obvious."

Somehow, the thought that Helen had been dyeing her hair just to hide her association with him, was what snapped him out of his daydream, stoking up the flames of his anger again.

"It was all sheep's dung," Rylan growled. "The debt they claimed I owed them, the anklet... they were desperately trying to keep me from leaving, when all they'd needed to do was be my actual fogging family!"

A silence fell over the kitchen, pervaded only by the steady drip-drop of the tap.

"I'm sorry for... dropping this on you all of a sudden," Artoran said eventually. "It sounds like you've been through a lot. I have to say though, the Helen I knew wouldn't have stood for this... There may be more going on than we know about."

Rylan's brows drew together. "You think they were trying to protect me from the Talons?"

"Like I said, Beatrice Thistlethorn is a shrewd lady. She rarely does anything for a single reason."

Why was everything involving his family such a confusing mess? Rylan shook his head, letting out a sigh as he refocused on what was in front of him. His father. "Sorry for getting sidetracked. Please, finish your story."

"Of course... So, when Vidric finally finished with me and left for the harbour, I found myself in the unenviable position of not being able to move my limbs like I'd used to. I somehow managed to drag myself into the chair at my desk and pen you that letter. My hands were shaking badly, and I was terrified that they would come back and snatch it, but I finally managed to finish it. Then I yelled out the window until one of the neighbour boys came by, and I asked him to post it. After that, I... pretty much passed out. Leah found me slumped over that desk, if I recall correctly. The healer she invited said one of the bones in my neck has been damaged, and apparently, that prevents me from controlling my legs properly. As ever since... I haven't managed to walk. Not without crutches and a lot of help. And without Ethereon's assistance, there isn't much hope for a true recovery."

Rylan was silent for a moment. "I'm really sorry you had to go through that," he said quietly.

Artoran smiled sadly. "It is what it is, son. Ehm... is it all right if I call you that?"

"I... yes," Rylan laughed, blinking back a fresh wave of emotion. "I'd say you've earned that right."

"Then it was worth it," Artoran said firmly. "And don't feel too sad for me. I've grown quite used to being like this, and most days, I can still play my gittern." He gestured at a stringed instrument leaning against the wall. "My main concern these days is that I'm being an unreasonable burden on Leah."

"Don't talk like that," Leahna said firmly yet quietly, pushing open the door to the kitchen. "You're not a burden, Dad. You could never be."

Artoran shot her a complex, sad smile. "Thank you, darling."

Watching them, Rylan caught a hint of the unspoken communication passing between the two. It reminded him of how he and Zahra had been able to understand each other with but a glance.

[Whew!] Arphin sent him. [That was...a lot, wasn't it, Boss? I guess we better go home to process now, huh? We haven't seen Izzy yet, today, so, wouldn't want to miss her showing up...]

Rylan bit back a smile. 'I'm pretty sure Izzy knows how to track me down when she wants to, Arphin. She'll swing by at some point—she probably just got distracted. And either way... you're forgetting something. The original purpose of this visit.'

[Oh! So you've decided to help them?]

Rylan cocked his head to the side. He hadn't consciously made a decision like that, but... Well, it almost didn't really feel like a choice. He wanted to help. He needed to. How could he not, after finally finding his father, and witnessing the state the man was in? The state he'd ended up in while trying to protect Rylan?

He wasn't sure how much his Skill with its minor recovery buff would be able to accomplish, but it had to be better than nothing.

Shaking her head, Leahna broke eye contact with her father and glanced at Rylan, her eyes red-rimmed. She seemed to hesitate at the brink of the room, eyeing him like a shepherd who'd spotted an approaching shark.

He wasn't sure how to handle her existence either, so for now he simply nodded at her.

Artoran turned back to Rylan as well. "So, now you know my story—or the parts that concern you, at least. Would you... tell us about you? About how you grew up, and how you escaped Vidric?"

Rylan took a deep breath, and got to his feet. "You know what, I should probably get started on your food while I talk. Because... it's a long story."

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