Aurelia sat still for a long moment after Lady Levina finished speaking. Her brows knit together, her voice low.
"A child found in a tomb… among the dead?"
Levina nodded, her expression calm but shadowed. "That's what my brother said. Both he and his servant, Taren, found him there. And Valerian has never been one to twist the truth."
Aurelia drew in a slow breath, then let it out, trying to make sense of it all. The idea of a child being found in the tomb of kings sent a strange chill down her spine. "But… if Vaelric was found in a tomb," she said softly, "how did he come to be your brother's son?"
Levina gave a knowing smile. "I knew you would ask that," she said. "Because that's what I asked, too. But I'm not done with the story yet."
She adjusted the sleeve of her gown, her gaze turning distant, as if looking back into memory. "After the storm that night, Valerian returned to the palace with the infant in his arms.
The child bore the mark of Vireon...just like him. My brother knew it meant something, but not what. So he did what he always does when faced with the unknown...he sought answers."
****
Valerian had ridden through the storm, the clouds still rumbling above him as he guided his storm steed back toward Valkoron Castle. The creature's hooves sparked against the stones, lightning flashing in its wake. Cradled in the crook of his arm was the small, wailing bundle he had found before the resting statues of his ancestors.
When he entered the great hall, his voice thundered louder than the storm outside. "Send for Serath Veyne...the seer! And fetch my mother and sister at once!"
The servants scurried away, startled by his tone. Within minutes, Queen Aelira Stormborne arrived, her silver hair hastily pinned, her expression worried. Levina, still unmarried then, followed her mother into the chamber.
"What is it, Valerian?" Aelira demanded. "The servant that brought the message said it was urgent."
Without a word, Valerian turned and revealed the child in his arms.
Aelira's eyes widened. "Whose child is this?"
He told them everything...about the mountain, the raging storm, the lightning that split the sky, and the wailing infant he found among the tombs of their forefathers.
When he was done, silence filled the room. Levina's mouth parted slightly, her gaze flickering between the baby and her brother.
Aelira was the first to speak. "What does this mean?"
Valerian's voice was low. "I don't know. That's why I sent for Serath."
The doors opened, and the seer entered...a tall, thin man draped in dark blue robes, eyes clouded like mist. "My king," he greeted, bowing his head.
Valerian gestured toward the child. "Tell me what this is. I felt the storm rise because of him. I need to know why."
Serath's pale gaze lingered on the baby before he spoke. "Strange," he murmured. "I saw a vision before dawn...a storm's cradle, a child wrapped in thunder. But the meaning escaped me. This… this is beyond my sight."
He hesitated, then said quietly, "We will need more than a seer's eyes to uncover this truth. We'll need a witch, who's also from a strong bloodline like the child in your arms."
Valerian straightened. "Who?"
"The strongest one we have," Serathis replied. "Vera Mortis, of the Mortis Coven. She knows the old rites...the ones that trace blood itself."
Valerian didn't waste time. A rider was sent immediately, and before dawn broke, Vera Mortis stood in his chamber. She was a tall woman cloaked in black, her eyes pale as frost and her presence heavy enough to make the air hum.
The affair was kept in strict secrecy...no word was to reach the other nobles or even the rest of the royal family
When she saw the baby, she froze. Her lips parted slightly. "He carries power," she whispered. "The blood of the storm flows through him. The mark of Vireon burns bright."
Aelira's voice shook. "Which Stormborne line does he come from? Daeron's?"
At the mention of the Grand Prince..Valerian's half brother and the one who once plotted to take the throne...Valerian's jaw tightened.
Vera's lips curved faintly. "Such truth lies in blood alone."
She asked for a bowl made of stone, filled it with clear water, and drew strange sigils into the air above it. As she worked, she began to chant in a language that prickled the skin:
Sanguis antiquus, sanguis verus,
audi vocem quae per fulgura clamavit.
Per tonitrua et ventos,
per noctem et per lumen fractum,
revelare veritatem quae dormivit."
The air thickened. The torches flickered blue. As she spoke, she cast rare ingredients into the basin..ashes of nightshade, crushed moonstone, the tears of a storm nymph. The water began to shimmer, turning from silver to violet, and then to gold.
Sanguis vetustior quam tempus, audi me.
Per flamma et ventum, per umbram et verum,
Revela stirpem quae dormitat sub caelo.
Patrem et filium coniunge, sanguine loquere.
In nomine ventorum aeternorum aperi!"
"Your blood, my king," Vera said.
Valerian drew a knife from his boot, nicked his palm, and let a drop of blood fall into the water. It hissed as if alive, a spark of light flashing through the bowl.
"The child's," she said next.
Aelira flinched as the witch pricked the baby's tiny finger and let a single drop fall. The moment it touched the water, the whole basin glowed. The liquid began to swirl violently, as though a storm raged inside it.
Vera's voice grew louder, rising like the wind:
"Per caelum fractum et mare furens,
per iram fulminis et silentium mortis,
audite me, spiritus sanguinis.
Qui iacet in corde tonitrus,
ostende lineam regis!"
The water erupted in a burst of white light. When it calmed, the two drops had merged...becoming one.
Vera turned slowly, her expression grave. "He is your son, Valerian Stormborne. Of your blood. Of your line. By the law of blood, by the voice of the winds...this child is your son."
Aelira gasped and brought a trembling hand to her mouth. Levina's eyes widened. "How can you be sure?" she whispered.
"Test it, if you doubt" Vera said simply.
Levina stepped forward and let her own blood fall into the bowl. The water flickered faintly but didn't blaze.
"He shares your bloodline," the witch explained, "but not as strongly as he does the king's. The bond is direct. Unmistakable."
Serath, curious, cut his own hand and let a drop fall in. The water went dark instantly, rejecting it with a sharp hiss.
Aelira turned to her son, her tone both accusing and bewildered. "What woman have you lain with, Valerian, that could bear such a child?"
Valerian's jaw tensed. "I don't know. During the months this child would have been conceived, I was on campaign...fighting Daeron's uprisings. I had no time for women."
Aelira's gaze hardened. "And yet, you fathered a son."
He hesitated. "There was… one night," he said quietly. "I don't remember her face. Only that it happened. And that she was real."
Vera's voice cut through the silence. "If the mother bore your bloodline but could not raise him, she might have invoked the Ritus Translationis...the blood transference rite.
It calls upon the nearest blood of the father, sending the child to where his lineage burns strongest. Mount Kaelith lies upon the heart of your power, my king. It is no wonder he appeared there. It's dangerous magic, but it would explain everything."
Silence fell.
Valerian looked down at the child in his arms. The storm outside had quieted, but lightning still flickered faintly through the windows. "I felt it," he murmured. "When I found him on Mount Kaelith,i knew it the moment I held him. The storm answered him. My blood knew him."
Vera bowed her head. "Then claim him, my king. The storm itself has chosen him."
Aelira's stern expression softened, and she reached to brush her hand over the child's small head. "Then he is Stormborne indeed."
Valerian held the baby closer, his voice steady when he finally spoke.
From this day forth," he declared, his voice rolling like thunder, "he shall be known as Vaelric Stormborne...my blood, my heir, the son of the storm."
Lightning rolled across the sky in answer...soft, approving thunder echoing through the night.