Vol.6 Ch.127- Dissenting Opinions.

I'll see you guys on November 7th at 6-9am PST.

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When I asked Dad to tell me about his life, I was surprised by his willingness. He didn't groan or complain and instead started from the beginning. And from what I managed to piece together from his sister and what I knew, it appeared that I was correct in my assumptions. Dad was the next head of the Shadow Clan until certain events transpired, and he decided not to be.

There was nearly three hundred years worth of his life, and he managed to compact it into a neat thirty-minute explanation as most of it was essentially the same thing year after year. My father had spent the first two centuries of his life training, training more, fighting, and waging war. The way he recounted things made my heart sink into my chest. It was eerily similar to my previous life.

Exist. Breath in. Kill the enemies of your people. Exhale. Repeat.

The only real difference is that he did it for far longer than I had. Even as Death Commando, my life expectancy wasn't much higher than an average Human's. Then again, they probably never expected us to live that long in the first place if the job didn't kill us, the military, or those who made me were ready to put the bullet in us.

I couldn't help but feel more attached to Dad…the things he went through were similar to what I had gone through. Albeit on an entirely different scale, but nonetheless. Of course, there was also the fact Dad was brainwashed and conditioned where I had been created with the sole purpose of war, but that was just nitpicking.

Everyone in the room listened with wide eyes of surprise and shock, and I was a part of that group. It was hard to believe the cheerful and loving father I knew him to be was once a cold-hearted soldier, slaughtering dozens of Elves, slaves, and mercenaries for money and the honor of his tribe without questioning a thing. Dad described himself as merciless, uncaring, and numb to the world around him. He never once questioned his father's orders or why he was doing the things he was doing. It was simply his life. He lived for the Shadow Clan.

He led troops from Brax and the Shadow Clan across multiple battlefields. The fighting was always off and on between Brax and Tel'an'duth for over three hundred years, but he would train troops and the future generations during down periods. My father had witnessed multiple generations of the Brax imperial family. It's a mesmerizing thought to have realized he was a part of that fighting for almost the entirety of a three-century war.

The only family member who interacted with others outside his father's orders was his older sister, and according to Dad, he rarely saw her. He could go years without seeing her face. He would often get into confrontations with Uncle Parhen. Apparently, Uncle Parhen was from a rival family that was second in power at the time. Parhen had some weird kind of one-sided rivalry with my father as he wanted to be the leader of the Shadow Clan, but alas, it was just a pipe dream due to his birth and lack of skill when compared to my dad.

My father's mood noticeably soured when talking about Parhen. Perhaps he really disliked the man, and having heard that he had married his sister and had a child didn't seem to make him feel any better. I think a part of him was blaming himself for running away, which forced his sister to marry Parhen in order to strengthen the Shadowstorm lineage. After all, if Parhen couldn't become the next clan leader, siring the next one is a close second…I guess.

I imagined there was a bit of animosity towards my father for disappearing or, in most people's minds, supposedly dying. He was the pride of the Shadow Clan. The next leader and the man who would orchestrate the charge into the foreseeable future. Then, he vanished, and if Aunt Illyssia's words were to be believed, he left an absolute train wreck behind him, and everyone believed him to be dead.

Of course, I don't blame my father. If it weren't for him making such a decision, I might not be here today, so I'm eternally grateful. After all, I wouldn't want anyone else to be my father.

Not to mention I may have made a similar choice if I had the free will to do so once upon a time. There was a time in my lives when I was beginning to think like that…even if it only lasted for a few scant days. But now, I've always wanted to live the life that I want to. And what exactly that life entails seems to be getting more unclear by the day for me.

Then Dad's life changed when he met Mom.

"So…that's pretty much my entire life until I met your mother," Dad said, wiping a slight beat of sweat off his forehead and gulping down half a glass of water.

"And how exactly did that go down?" Padraic asked.

Judging by everyone's faces, the only person who knew about my parent's past was Grandpa. Perhaps they had some kind of mutual understanding, being incredibly powerful and influential people hiding away in a small village on an island. Three unlikely individuals…

"Well…uh…" Dad mumbled sheepishly while rubbing the back of his head. "How do I put this? I guess—"

"It was love at first sight. I was sent to assassinate him, but he was the one that assassinated my heart," my mom cooed, batting her eyelashes at him.

Dad blushed and turned his head to the side. "For you, maybe, not for me. I'm not sure what kind of man would fall in love with a masked assassin trying to stab him in the chest with a lightning-clad dagger…"

Mom put a hand to her cheek and sighed. "You did play hard to get at first, I suppose."

Dad cleared his throat for no reason other than to calm his nerves. Something I do…I wonder if I had picked that habit up from him. Or maybe it was a nervous thing we were both destined to have.

"Whatever you say, Dear. But to set the stage and make things simpler to understand, it all started with the assassins sent to Tel'an'duth. We had just gotten word that they were successful, and we were in the middle of a celebration. My father came to me and told me now was the time for him to retire and for me to take the mantle of the clan leader. End on a high note and all that," Dad recounted, waving his hand dismissively.

"There were a few Dark Elves sent with the Brax assassins, and although they were considered dead, it was a worthy sacrifice in our eyes. A way to bring the war to an end. I accepted my father's proposal to be chief out of nothing more than duty. I always figured it was the next logical step in my life, and I honestly didn't have any negative feelings about the idea at the time. But…it was during our celebration that things got heated. You see, Brax was planning on mustering an invasion force to cripple Tel'an'duth and take nearly all of the adjacent land on the border. It was meant to be a final move to end the war, to force Tel'an'duth to back down and sign a peace treaty accepting Brax's claim to the land. Everyone was in high spirits, and nobody expected that Tel'an'duth had sent their own assassins in the night."

Mom looked rather proud at that, but for some reason, I got the impression that she was putting on a front. Maybe it was because I was her son that I knew. Or perhaps I was just better at these things…I couldn't be sure.

"In a matter of moments, the camp descended into chaos. Ration trailers were blown up by spells. Mages were screaming and flinging spells into the darkness. It was a full-blown panic, and they had waited until the end of the party when everyone was at the bottom of the tenth drink and vomiting on themselves. I didn't even manage to gather anyone before your mother attacked me. I was lucky that I had my spear on hand," Dad grumbled.

"You put up a good fight," Mom added, like she was trying to make him feel better.

"So she did beat you?" Padraic snickered.

Dad glared at Padraic, and the Dwarf suppressed a chuckle while turning his face away. "As I was saying…I tried to turn the tides, but our shadow magic was severely hindered by light mages. The previous night General Maxwell had taken a large portion of our forces for the invasion. We weren't even close to the border, so we thought we were safe. I would never have imagined he'd rebel against the emperor. Those two seemed so close…." Dad reminisced.

<Light mages? I thought only the Holy Kingdom had a bunch?> Cerila asked.

"We sent Tel'an'duth light mages," Grandpa added quickly.

So the Holy Kingdom was playing both sides of the war, huh? Doesn't surprise me. But for them to be helping a rival religion? How slimy is the Holy Kingdom?

Dad nodded and spoke while signing. "Your mom had the idea of using two or three light mages to light up the area. Without shadows, we can't use our shadow magic, which turned out to be a significant blow to us. Before I knew it, your mother had overwhelmed me in close combat and nearly killed me. I would have died if it weren't for my charm."

"A charm?" Sylvia asked. "What is that?"

Dad raised an eyebrow and the back of his head. "Ah…that's right, I guess that's not their real names. We just called them charms. They are essentially dungeon items that protect the user from suffering a fatal blow. They are incredibly rare, and they are pricey even if you can find one. They cost at least a handful of large gold, depending on their ranking. That's even if you can find one. Most people aren't willing to part with such a powerful item. My charm was rated as being an A-class dungeon item."

A charm? That must be the same type of magic item Dem had that we found in the dungeon. Come to think of it, it had done something very similar, and it protected him at the final moment. But the item was destroyed upon use.

"I see…" Sylvia said while looking at me.

"Anyways, the charm activated, which was supposed to protect me. But instead, something else happened..." Dad looked at Mom, and she shrugged lightly while patting Mila on the head. Mila hadn't been able to escape Mom's grasp and was currently sitting in her lap. However, she didn't seem too bothered by the attention and scratches.

"Even now, we don't know what happened. Somehow someway, the item activated, and a blinding white light flashed me. By the time I regained my senses, we were being surrounded by monsters in the dark. I was just a few seconds away from plunging my spear into your mom when a monster jumped on me. From there, well… we banded together and found our way through the dungeon together."

There has to be more than that. I mean, Sylvia and I went through the same thing, and at first, we weren't trying to kill each other. Well…mostly that is.

Dad had said the last part awfully fast, and a devilish smile crept on Mom's face. "Oh? You aren't going to tell them everything?"

My father didn't even look her in the eyes. "There are some things I'd rather not remember," he grumbled.

"Because it would wound your pride as a man?" Mom said playfully.

Sylvia nudged me in the side. "Hey, this sort of sounds like what happened to us, huh?"

"Yeah. I got a feeling it may be eerily similar," I whispered back.

"Do…do…do you think things will turn out the same?"

"They already pretty much have," I said with a shrug. I wasn't really sure why she was nervous all of a sudden.

Now that more minor conversations had broken out, I wanted to know one more thing before I ended with the grand finale. I kept my gaze on Mom till she eventually looked my way. I looked into her golden eyes, and she immediately avoided my gaze.

So, that's how it's going to be, huh?

"Excuse me," I called out.

Everyone ceased their chatter and looked at me. Perhaps I was emitting some kind of weird aura because they were all giving me concerned looks, but I didn't really mean to. This may be important but whether or not it happens solely depends on the person next to me.

I turned to face her with a smile. "Sylvia, would you like to take your mask off?"

She let out a small squeak of surprise. "Huh? Now? I…don't think this is the time. It's—"

"It's fine, really." I turned to my family. "Besides, if they kept their secrets this long from me, then I imagine they would be more than happy to keep yours, right? Everyone?"

Mom and Dad chuckled nervously and looked away from me while Grandpa just grunted and sat deeper in his chair. This entire time I had skirted around the fact that Sylvia was a Vampire.

I mostly just mentioned that she had healed me, and everyone nodded and took my words at face value. I think they were happy just to hear that I had been saved, not how I'd been saved.

Padraic made a slight face of disgust and sank into the seat. "He's got the same damn scary smile you have, Mrs. Shadowheart."

Mom looked genuinely offended at Padraic's words and lightly tapped him on the head. Padraic yelped in surprise. "That smile is not scary. It's very handsome. Right, Mila?"

Mila blinked once and gazed at me. "Daddy is pretty," she stated.

The Dwarf stopped rubbing his head, and I sighed as I watched a grin spread across his face. "Pretty, huh?" he snickered.

Well, now I know he is going to bring that up later. Most likely in a situation that he can make awkward.

I cleared my throat for the umpteenth time today to get my family to settle down. This was an important decision that needed to be made. If Sylvia decides against revealing herself, then so be it. But there is also a part of me that was worried for her. That if she couldn't show her face to people I knew, people we could trust, she may never do it.

And she knows that Grandpa is an Exarch. And so do I. I suppose I'm really putting her on the spot, huh? But I have a feeling she wants to do this…she just needs a nudge.

Sylvia was nervously trapping her foot against the floor. I could tell she was frantically trying to put everything together. Most likely attempted to come up with a few excuses as to why this moment wasn't a good time. And more than likely, she was afraid. Rightfully so.

As far as I knew, the only person who knew who Sylvia really was was Mila, and she didn't have the broad context of who Sylvia actually was. I didn't believe my family had had time to hear the whole story of what happened during the Dragon attack, which is why they hadn't heard the rumors about Sylvia. People knew she was a Vampire, but that's it.

They don't know her whole story.

"Sylvia, sweety, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's okay," my mom said softly.

Sylvia groaned and slapped her leg with a meaty thwack. "No…no…this has to happen."

She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the front of her mask. The tension in the room began to build as everyone watched with bated breath. Everyone wanted to know the face behind the mask. It was always an exciting spectacle to see something for the first time. I went through something similar.

Her one blue eye appeared through her fingers and looked directly at me. All I could do was smile to encourage her. I personally felt this was a good idea, regardless of the outcome. It was the first step of many that needed to come for Sylvia to live her life of freedom.

And I was going to support her.

She closed her eye and took her mask off in one swift motion. Her pale skin, soft pink lips, and sharp High Elven facial features were visible to everyone. Sylvia truly was beautiful.

Most people would find it difficult to argue that claim. But that was only if they didn't see her eyes. And although I had long since changed my opinion on them, many wouldn't agree with me.

Sylvia squeezed my leg with enough force to make me raise an eyebrow. She was gripping me with quite a bit of strength, and I could feel her elevated pulse through her hand. A fleeting thought of smoothing things over before she did this crossed my mind, but I decided against it. I believed this was the best way to go about things.

Her long black eyelashes fluttered, and her crimson eyes slowly began to open. The blood-red color continued to grow until they were fully opened, which, as far as anyone was concerned, shouldn't be possible in this world anymore. She looked out at my family with a face full of apprehension. In the end, she couldn't even look them in the eyes.

And the reason was that the atmosphere had flipped on its head. It was the exact opposite of when I told everyone Mila was my daughter. Then everyone present had been surprised yet happy to hear such news but now, everyone was surprised and afraid.

There was an audible snap. Grandpa had gripped the arm of the chair so hard it splintered and broke. Multiple sources of bloodlust blasted me instantly, and instead of cowering away, I returned it in full force with a single pulse.

Mom and Dad both winced at the harshness and intensity I emitted when I stood up and narrowed my eyes at them. Perhaps it was because I was their son they had such a reaction. And since I had just released it with no regard, poor Dallin and Mila had felt it as well and looked about ready to pass out. Dallin's teeth were chattering in fear.

Padraic gripped the couch's side couch hard enough that his knuckles were nearly as white as his beard. He was staring at me with wide eyes full of fear. Even Cerila had beads of sweat rolling down her flushed forehead.

The only person who didn't shrink back was Grandpa. If anything, he doubled down and continued to direct his bloodlust at Sylvia and me. The edge those green eyes seemed to lack had returned as he glared at us with apparent disdain and outright hostility. Of course, I had been expecting this…maybe not to this degree, but…

"Directing your bloodlust at Sylvia is directing it at me. And if you plan on harming the person who has saved my life multiple times, then I hope you are ready for the consequences," I said sharply.

"Kal…am I seeing things?" my dad asked me in disbelief.

"No, you are not. Sylvia is a Vampire. A Vampire from the age of Talgan," I explained.

Sylvia shot up from her seat and went into a deep bow. Her nervousness was almost comical and endearing if it weren't for the tense and overbearing change in the atmosphere. Everyone was on pins and needles.

Sylvia stood from her bow and tried her best to smile, but it looked like she was in pain. "My name is Sylvia Talgan. I am the granddaughter of Talgan and what Kaladin said was true. I…I hope my actions over the last year have shown that I can be trusted…I've been doing everything I can to show that I mean no harm to anyone. Especially, Kaladin."

She actually did it, huh? I wasn't expecting her to admit that she was Talgan's granddaughter.

…

…

"How is that even possible?" Mom muttered. Her eyes looked as if they were going to fall out of her skull.

Mom was clearly the second most flustered person compared to Grandpa. That made sense considering she was from Tel'an'duth, which practiced the Moon Mother Religion. And although they didn't play a massive part in the downfall of Talgan, the religion still doesn't tolerate Vampires and propagates a negative stigma towards them, albeit to a lesser degree than the Church of Amon-Ra.

"I w—was put to sleep…for over two thousand years, by who and for what reason, I still don't know. When I woke up—"

Crack.

Sylvia was talking over herself as she hastily tried to answer Mom's question and was interrupted by a loud crack. Grandpa had stood from his chair and procured a wooden cane out of thin air. He didn't even give us a passing glance as he hobbled his way toward the door.

I gritted my teeth and gave chase. Well, chase probably isn't the best word. It was only a few steps for me as Grandpa wasn't moving very fast. I'd probably be sad to see him moving like this if frustration weren't overwhelming me.

"This is really how you are going to do this?" I asked, speaking into his hunched back.

He snorted in response. "This is as good as you are going to get from me, boy."

"You are just going to ignore everything she has done for me? All because of the color of her eyes? Do you really hate Vampires so much that you would go blind to reality?" I questioned.

Grandpa turned around with a surprising amount of speed and brought the tip of his cane to my nose. Even that much movement had the old man breathing hard as he glared at me. "You still don't understand a damn thing. I don't hate that woman because she is a Vampire. I loathe her because of what she stands for," Grandpa snapped.

"What she stands for?"

"That's right, what she stands for," Grandpa repeated, spittle flying from his mouth. He brought his cane down and sighed in annoyance. "You must be blinded by your feelings not to see it, but she is a danger to you and all you hold dear. Vampires aren't just hated because of how they look. They are hated because of what they symbolize and what they hold in their souls. Did you even read any of those books, boy? They are misfortune packed into a corrupted fleshy body. Those soulless eyes should be enough to warn you of the danger they pose."

"That…what an archaic way of thinking. There is no such thing as misfortunate through generations. People are just unlucky and lucky sometimes. Do you really believe that after everything you heard today? I wouldn't be here without Sylvia. Do you even care about me?"

The old man shook his head from side to side. "Your attempt to goad me, boy, is failing. And you are wrong about that. Have you ever wondered that maybe it was her bringing you this misfortune? I had wondered why you seemed to be so unlucky. I believed it may have been this Child of Chaos nonsense but no more. How can you stand here before me and not realize what Vampires have done to you? What they have done to your entire family? It wasn't a Human that tracked Cerila and you down in that forest. It was a Vampire. And ever since you met Sylvia, nothing short of life-threatening situations have been tossed in your face. Do you even care about how that makes your mother and father feel? If Avasta and chaos had something to do with the Dragon attack and your perceived unluckiness, you would have been dead the second you came into this world."

"I—"

Grandpa whacked his cane on the marble floor. "Don't interrupt me. You are wrong about many things, and it pains me to hear that you would even suggest that I don't care for you. It's because I care about you, son, that I'll rattle that brain of yours and make you see the light. You can look back in time, and it all started with Talgan. It doesn't matter if Vampires are god-awful people or damn saints. Their misfortune is engraved into their very being, into their damn souls. And they will bring ruin to you as Talgan brought ruin to his own people. You may be deaf now, but I've been in this city for less than a day, and I can already hear the drums of war beating. The world is changing, and you are at the center of it."

I shook my head. "That's an over-exaggeration. Even if war is brewing, it has nothing to do with me. We can just—"

Grandpa snorted again and licked his chapped lips. "Did I teach you to be such a blind fool, or is this the new you? I must have failed you more than I ever imagined," Grandpa said between gritted teeth.

The old man furrowed his brows and ripped his glasses off in frustration. A loud crack of glass echoed in the otherwise silent hall. A crimson liquid seeped out from his clenched fist. I could hear him grind away at the thick glass that used to make up his glasses.

His emerald eyes seemingly peered through me. "Do you truly believe that you can run from this? The entire world knows who you are, boy. And when war breaks out, you will not be able to hide as I did. Even I didn't garner as much fame at my height as you hold now. I wouldn't be surprised if people living in the caves in Khiz know your name by now." Although Grandpa wasn't yelling, his anger was building, and his bloodlust leaked from him.

"And you won't be able to fight alone. It doesn't matter how many Dragons you've killed or how strong you are. You are just a single…foolish…boy. You will need allies if you are to defeat what's coming. They are already enacting their plan. Dissonance, rebellion, assassinations, political maneuvers, and chaos… they have already begun, and you are already too late to hide."

He thrust his cane out and pointed behind me. "But that doesn't mean there isn't hope. But… that Vampire… will be the death of you, boy. Again. People need a common enemy, and she will become one with ease. It will be you versus the world. And if you call that little girl your daughter, you had best be prepared for the repercussions of holding the title of father. If that Vampire cared even an ounce for you, she would leave you and the child behind and disappear into the woods, never to be seen again."

"I'll never abandon Sylvia."

The old man narrowed his eyes at me and sighed. His bloodlust receded immediately. "Then you're a damn fool. Place the child in an orphanage far away or have your friends adopt her. You'd be doing her a favor since no little girl wants to watch her daddy die a fool's death," Grandpa said with a grunt and dismissive wave of his hand.

The old man made one final crack on the marble and began hobbling away slowly, dropping his bloodied glasses on the floor. I looked down and noticed that he had broken the tiles from his strike. Perhaps Grandpa still had some fight left in him. But I had no idea his prejudice went this deep. But I should have expected it…undoing a lifetime of deep-rooted conditioning wasn't going to happen overnight. It hardly happened overnight for me.

But what if—…no…I won't even entertain those thoughts.

The things he said about Sylvia…I could never look at her that way. My life and the ups and downs have nothing to do with her. Correlation does not imply causation. Our meeting was happenstance, nothing more. And now that I know she was here in this world, if I were to be sent back in time, I'd go and find her myself.

I felt a spell core behind me but didn't even turn to face it. Instead, a warm hand fell on my shoulder. "What? Come to tell me the same thing Grandpa did, Dad?"

My dad chuckled and stood next to me while looking down the hallway at Grandpa's retreating back. A sad smile spread across his face when he noticed the abandoned glasses. "No, I'm not. And you shouldn't take everything that old man says to heart, son. He's gotten even more grouchy in his old age, and if you ask me, his hardened heart is just for show. He cares deeply about you. If you saw him when you first disappeared, you would have thought he was your actual flesh and blood."

"Do you agree with him? About Sylvia?" I asked bluntly.

My dad hesitated for a moment, and I looked him in the eyes. But for some reason, that just made him smile. "When you glare at me like that, it reminds me of your mother," he said fondly. "But no, Kal, I don't think Sylvia is some monster. I'd be an idiot to ignore all that she has done for you, and it's very clear to me that you care deeply about her."

"So you aren't afraid that she is the granddaughter of Emperor Talgan and an ancient Vampire?"

Dad shrugged. "I won't say that it isn't an…issue…but that doesn't change my mind or the facts. I think Sylvia is a good girl, and I don't particularly hate Vampires. Before I went to Amoth to search for you, I could count how many Vampires I had seen on the one hand. My only opinion of them back then was that they bled the same as everyone else. I guess in that regard. We are more alike than most people would care to admit."

"That is… a very soldierly way to look at things," I mumbled.

Dad patted me on the back. "Sure is. I may not like my past, but sometimes simpler is just better."

I sighed and let out a light chuckle. Hearing Dad speak to me like this again, like I was a child, made me feel far better than I was expecting. Perhaps deep down, I'll always be his little Elf.

And I'm okay with that.

"Where is Avasta? I'm ready to go home…" I mumbled as I bent over and picked up the broken glasses.

Dad didn't immediately answer me, so I turned to look at him, and he looked away from me. "Well…uh…you see, Son…uh…how do I explain this to you? Mmm…well, I did say simpler is better. But, to be honest with you, we don't have a home anymore."

"Huh?" I squeaked while rubbing my eyes with my fingers.

Dad took a step back from me and put his hands out in front of him like he was warding off some kind of dangerous animal. "Don't get mad…it's just that we had to sell our home. When your Mom left to join me in Amoth, we had decided if we didn't find you in five years, we would both start looking for you."

"I see…but we can go back, right?" I said.

Dad gave me a wry smile. "I suppose we could. But after hearing everything from you today, I think staying here in Luminar might be a better option. Dallin can go to school maybe even Cerila and Padraic could go as well…I can handle my business with my family. Your mother and Grandpa will be safer here under your protection as the Dragonslayer. Not to mention Maxwell and Bowen owe me a few favors. I mean, Kal…you have a daughter…you don't plan on taking her across the ocean, do you?"

"I…I was expecting that I could convince Avasta to take us home…but I suppose if there is no home…there isn't a point," I mumbled.

Dad slowly approached me and patted me on the shoulder again, this time for an instant. "I can sense your frustration and confusion. Listen…today has been a long day for everyone. How about we get some rest and talk about this when everyone has cooled down a bit more, yeah?"

"Wait, who else needs cooling down?" I asked.

"Besides you and the doc? Your mom is pretty flustered, and everyone else is still reeling from Sylvia's grand entrance. Even Sylvia seemed upset…" Dad explained.

"Yeah…maybe some rest is needed."

But I'm not finished just yet.