The nine forms of slaughter

Aragon's mind whirled with a mixture of grief, anger, and a burning desire to uncover the truth. The weight of his grandmother's sacrifices and the burdens she had endured for his sake settled heavily upon his shoulders. 

He had lived his life blissfully unaware of the tragedies that had befallen his family.

The old man's eyes softened, and his voice filled with compassion as he placed a weathered hand on Aragon's shoulder. "Grief has a way of veiling the truths we hold dear, young Aragon. Your grandmother, Lady Freja, found solace and strength in you, the light you brought into her life. She wanted nothing more than to shelter you from the darkness that had consumed her own world."