64: Adela’s Lineage

Adela’s Lineage

In the midst of an otherworldly tent, Lady Adela de Lanark sat regally upon a sturdy wooden chair, facing a shapeshifter who, by all accounts, should have been consumed by flames the moment he dared to set foot inside Lanark's Forest.0

Egon and the wolf were proven right. Adela, along with the entire realm of Lanark, had been thoroughly deceived.

Adela took a moment to scrutinize the brown-tinted glass presented to her. Delicately grasping it, she brought it closer to her lips, the sweet aroma of the liquid wafting around her.

As the shapeshifter's hand gently touched hers, Adela was suddenly reminded of the wolf's comforting touch in the garden. However, this time, the gesture had a far different effect.

Looking directly at the shapeshifter, Adela was met with a furrowed brow and a warning, "Did your parents not teach you to never accept food or drink from a stranger?"

She regarded him as though he had grown an additional head.

"Even cubs know better than to drink from stagnant waters. You should not place your trust in strangers so readily," he advised.

"Was that another test? Did I fail?" she panicked.

"Who said you passed the first one?"

Suppressing the urge to flee the tent and erase this encounter from her memory, she stared at him, gauging the level of his seriousness.

The shapeshifter stroked his chin contemplatively, "Why is it that you trust others so quickly?" 

She did not. But her father came before herself, before her safety. 

She squared her shoulders and gave him a level look. 'I followed you because you were appointed by the Crown Prince, but your correctness regarding father's sword solidified my faith in your words. The risk I undertake now is one I would not have taken had Father been home waiting for me... Tell me straightforwardly what you desire from me so that we may both proceed with our lives."

He grinned a lopsided smile, conveying contentment, "Drink, and don't forget that you chose to do so."

She downed the sweet liquid in one go then placed the glass on the table once more, it had a creamy yet refreshing aftertaste on her tongue, "What happens now?"

"Now? I take you back home. What did you expect?"

Disappointment flashed across her face at the anticlimactic response. "Was there nothing else in that water then?"

She had truly thought that the shapeshifter brought her all the way here to show her something, and that the water would aid his effort somehow. 

"Coconut water is a rare and highly nutritious drink. You looked like you were about to faint when I first saw you...What kind of Healer are you, anyway?"

"Then how come I…" it took her a second to understand that he had revealed something important to her. "What did you…!"

Adela could not continue as the world around them began to warp like a kaleidoscope coming to life. the blue color filling the tent became vibrant, taking on a dreamlike quality. She felt a sense of detachment from her body, as though she had stumbled upon a secret world that existed just beyond the bounds of her reality.

It was almost tolerable, until the room was plunged into complete darkness.

"…I cannot discern anything," she murmured then sensed the warmth of a hand enveloping hers.

"I deprived you of your sight for a brief time. Now, heed my words, what I'm about to reveal to you; it is buried deep within," he whispered.

The darkness that she was wary of became a welcomed one.

"You are not a pureblood, yet magic runs through your veins for Healers are descendants of the magic," he stated.

"De Lanarks are descendants of men," she retorted, "I am human."

"Undeniably, you are human. The magic folk were human too. If we must differentiate, your mother and father are different, Adelaide."

"…Mother,"

A twinge of sadness hit her; her mother was not Lanarkian, and Adelaide had always questioned her lineage since her mother never discussed her ancestry. Adelaide had previously believed it was due to her secret: being a commoner.

"Your mother is also a Healer," he disclosed.

She withdrew her hand abruptly from the warmth that suddenly frightened her. The shapeshifter was a liar.

"How can she be a Healer if my father is in this state!" Her fear intensified as the darkness started getting red patches exploding left and right.

"Shhh... Relax, you're already in a lucid state. Don't go where I cannot bring you back, child. I promise to explain everything, but do it on a calm state of mind," he urged.

She took a deep breath, it took her a couple more before her vision returned to blackness.

"It is your legacy... Healers are not arbitrarily happening; they are chosen. Whatever chooses you, it manifests in two ways. Male Healers carry it until their last breath, while female Healers, a rarity amongst the rare, always pass it down to a daughter," he explained.

"Mother is no longer a Healer..." she concluded, "...But I was next to father too!"

"Being next to me, who knows you, does not pass on the knowledge... Healing, much like everything else, is a process,"

His words turned around inside of her head, she decided to put them together differently, "...You have to know that you can do something before you do it?"

Her hand was back inside the warmth, "You're a clever rarity... I can see why he is so infatuated,"

"He..." Adela knew that the wolf was sent by the Crown Prince, but she thought of Egon instead, his handsome face filled the darkness perfectly as if he had been hiding there all along.

"...I can see why you would want to drag him in here, but I have seen enough of his ugly face for one day," the Alpha complained but his voice was getting further and further away from her. "We don't have much time left,"

Adela who had barely caught the final words he said was preoccupied with Egon's face.

"I am something else, too, Egon... But what are you..." she mumbled to herself sleepily. 

***

Images flowed from her past, but she saw them differently.

"Father, I will make your ankle better," she had said, her fingers working over the injury. His warm, calloused hand combed through her hair, and his smile warmed her heart. But this time, when she looked closer, she saw something else. A light that shouldn't have been there, emanating from her own fingers and swirling around the bandage.

The image faded, and another took its place.

"I shall name you Kannen, and you shall be the envy of all the falcons in Emoria!"

There were many images of her and her beloved bird, she felt a connection, a beam of light that seemed to pass between them. She reached out her hand, wanting to stay with that image.

Forever.

"Move forward," came the thundering roar of what she imagined was an angry face of a white wolf.

Adela obliged, looking through many more images, seeing the faces of the commoners she had rushed undercover to help, she recognized Nicolas from that fateful day, and she even saw Egon on that hill, light raced from within her and brushed over his cheek the second he was wounded. But something was different with this image.

"Move forward," Came another urgent roar.

There were only two images left, the one before the last was utterly unexpected. The man who came whipped to the commoners' infirmary; the light had set in his back right before he fainted.

The last image was of Kannen's last breaths, how her light swirled around him, how it bounced off each time it attempted to penetrate him.

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