A Brother’s Shadow
The packhouse was quieter than usual as the evening deepened. Isla, drawn by curiosity and a lingering sense of unease, found herself making her way toward the library. A note had been slipped under her door earlier, its message simple yet enigmatic:
“Meet me in the library tonight. There are truths you need to know. – M”
When she arrived, Malrik was already there, seated at a wide mahogany table littered with ancient tomes and faded scrolls. A single lantern cast flickering shadows across his pale, angular face. His frail frame was swathed in a dark cloak, and his gray eyes glinted with intrigue as he looked up at her.
“You came,” he said softly, gesturing to the chair across from him. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I’m curious by nature,” Isla replied, keeping her tone neutral as she sat down. Her silver hair shimmered in the dim light, a stark contrast to the heavy shadows enveloping Malrik. “What is this about?”
Malrik slid a leather-bound book toward her, its cover embossed with a crescent moon and intricate runes. “This,” he said, his voice smooth, “is part of your story. A story your so-called parents never told you.”
Isla frowned, her fingers brushing the worn cover. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Your lineage, Isla. It’s not what you think. This book—compiled by scholars centuries ago—details the bloodlines of those descended from the Moon Goddess herself. Your silver hair, your connection to her power… none of it aligns with the family you were raised by.”
Her breath caught as she opened the book, her silver eyes scanning pages filled with symbols and family trees. “Are you saying I’m not their child?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Malrik’s lips curved into a faint smile, both sympathetic and calculating. “I’m saying it’s unlikely. You and Seraphine—your powers, your crescent mark—are anomalies in their bloodline. Tell me, Isla, do you look anything like them? Does Seraphine?”
Her mind reeled. It was true she had always felt different, out of place even among her family. But to hear it spoken aloud…
“This doesn’t prove anything,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered.
Malrik’s tone softened, almost tender. “No, it doesn’t. But it raises questions, doesn’t it? Questions you deserve answers to.”
Isla looked up from the book, meeting his gaze. “And why do you care? What do you get out of this?”
He chuckled, the sound low and oddly soothing. “You fascinate me, Isla. Your strength, your connection to the Moon Goddess—it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And I have a fondness for unraveling mysteries.” His smile turned sharper. “I’d like to help you get to the bottom of this… if you’ll let me.”
Isla hesitated, her instincts screaming to tread carefully. “Draven wouldn’t want me anywhere near this,” she said cautiously.
“Draven,” Malrik drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Is too busy brooding and barking orders to see the bigger picture. But you—you’re different. You don’t just follow the path laid out for you. You carve your own.”
Her silver eyes narrowed. “You don’t know me as well as you think.”
“Don’t I?” Malrik’s smirk softened into something almost genuine. “We’re not so different, Isla. Both of us trapped by expectations, underestimated, and yet… more than anyone knows.”
She closed the book with a soft thud, her heart heavy with unease. “If what you’re saying is true, it changes everything.”
“Exactly,” Malrik said, his voice smooth as silk. “So let me help you uncover the truth. Together.”
Isla stood, the book still clutched in her hands. “I’ll think about it,” she said carefully.
As she turned to leave, Malrik’s voice followed her, quiet but piercing. “You deserve to know who you are, Isla. And I think you’ll find that I’m the only one willing to tell you.”
