“She was a fighter?” Florian asked, uncertain, as he looked up at it. “A warrior?”
“She was,” Jerah agreed. “She was fearless. Maybe to a fault. It was a Blight monster that got her in the end, while she was on an excursion... She did a lot of the heavy lifting so I could research. I hated going into the Blight, but she never complained. Sometimes I think she even enjoyed the danger.”
A small, bitter laugh escaped him, though his gaze remained firmly up at the portrait. “Sometimes I think maybe I could have protected her if I was there, but... She was always the better fighter between us. It wasn't even close. More likely, she'd just have to protect me.” Finally, he sighed and glanced back at Florian. “I still have her sword. If you wanted to learn to use it, I'm sure Kade would be happy to train you.”
“Kade?” Florian blurted, shooting him a startled look. “He's staying here?”
“Of course,” Jerah said, blinking in surprise. “Kade is… Well, Kade is partly my ward from the wolf clan, but he’s partly my assistant and protector as well. He's lived here for close to five years now, ever since his father became too sick to come to the Winter Court.”
“So his family is like an ally of yours? Ours?” he asked. He was still unsure of the connection—for all he knew, Kade could very well be a cousin or some other relative, which would certainly be a bucket of cold water on the heat that he felt whenever he looked at the other man.
“Yes. The wolf clan has been sworn to the Winter Court since even before the days of the Nova Blight,” Jerah said, nodding. “They have been our greatest allies, even when the other clans fell away and focused on themselves.”
“How many clans are there?” Florian asked. At that, Jerah sighed, frowning.
“Three that I know for sure still exist,” he said, the despair in his voice obvious as he said it. “Wolves in the north, dragons and krakens in the east. There are rumors that the lion clan has survived by moving entirely underground, but I don't know how true that is. I wouldn't be surprised if a few clans managed to preserve at least some of their line in such a way, but if they have, they haven't been able to contact anyone outside of their clans since then, so…” He sighed heavily once more. Hearing the sadness in his voice, Florian wasn't sure if he wanted to know how many clans there had been in the first place.
“So the animals are like... a logo? A symbol?” Florian asked instead, frowning. Jerah paused, shooting him a strange look.
“Well, they're shifters,” he said, as if that explained it. Florian waited, but he didn't seem to offer any other explanation.
“What does that mean?” he asked more pointedly, and Jerah laughed aloud.
“You don't—? Sorry, I didn't realize you didn't know. No, they become the creature. That's how their magic works.”
“What?” Florian exclaimed. “Like... a werewolf?”
Jerah laughed again. “Sort of, yes. But they can control it and transform at will, not just during a full moon.”
“So Kade can turn into a wolf,” he said flatly, still unsure if he believed it.
“That's right.”
“And the other clans? They can turn into dragons? And... Andkrakens?”
“Right again. To be honest, seeing a kraken transform is just as unsightly as it sounds. Far too many limbs. The dragons are a little more graceful, but they're still rather...long.”
Florian burst out laughing at that, the absurdity of the whole situation catching up to him all at once. These mythical creatures were somehow real, they were in a magic world, and he could change his appearance seemingly at will. Just yesterday he had been walking on the beach with Nadia, talking about taking a trip up to San Francisco, and wondering why his uncle was so reticent to let him move out. It may as well have been a lifetime ago.
“You alright?” Jerah asked, eyeing him nervously as he laughed. He must have looked like he'd finally lost it.
“Yeah, yeah,” Florian stammered, stifling his laughter. “Sorry. I just... This is all so crazy.”
“I'm sure it must be,” Jerah agreed, although he still looked unsure. “Why don't we wrap it up for the day, then? I'll take you to your room, and you can get some rest, have a bath... We can reconvene tomorrow and I can show you around the rest of the castle. How does that sound?”
“Yeah, I think that sounds good,” Florian agreed. Some time to process everything could only help. Jerah nodded wordlessly and led him back out of the study, carefully closing the door behind them. He followed his father down the stairs and through a few more hallways, giving no mind to the new passageways and various curiosities of the castle. His focus was on the picture still held between his hands; his eyes lingering on the face of his mother, unknown and familiar at the same time.
Jerah stopped in front of a wooden door that looked much like the rest, though this one stood alone in the short hallway where they'd arrived.
“Here we are,” he said, opening the door. “You should have everything you need, but if you end up needing anything else, feel free to call one of the servants.”
“How do I do that?”
“Ah,” he paused, considering the question. “Snap your fingers and channel a bit of magic into it, and that should do the trick.”
“Channel a bit of magic...?” Florian started, trailing off. “Well, I'll figure it out.”
“Or just come find me, or Tatiana. Or Kade, he's just around the corner from you to the right. We'd all be happy to help,” Jerah said, and Florian nodded, glancing away nervously.
“Alright,” he said, eager to be alone. “Goodnight.”
Jerah's expression softened as he smiled down at Florian. “Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow.”
Florian nodded, and Jerah turned to go, his footsteps echoing loudly down the stone hallway.
The door closing behind him, Florian glanced around the room. It was as light and airy as Jerah's room had been, though the linens were plain, and there were no decorations on the wall—only a potted plant with trailing vines that draped down from the windowsill. His backpack had been carefully propped at the foot of the bed, and the second door on the opposite wall was slightly ajar, revealing a bathroom within. He carefully set the picture frame on the small writing desk next to the bed, then unpacked his clothes from his backpack and hung them in the wardrobe that pushed up against the opposite wall. They were a bit wrinkled, but he supposed it couldn't be helped.
A bath sounded nice, but the exhaustion of the day had crept up on him all at once, and weariness weighed heavily on his eyes. He meant to lay down just for a bit before washing off the dirt and grime of the day; but by the time his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.
