Threads of the Past

Chapter 11: Threads of the Past

The early morning light filtered through the high windows of the sanctuary, casting intricate patterns on the stone floor. Iori sat in the central chamber, staring at the faintly glowing runes beneath her hands. Despite the progress she'd made, questions still buzzed in her mind, louder than ever.

"Your mind is elsewhere," Alaric said as he approached, his arms crossed.

Iori looked up at him, sighing. "It's just… I keep thinking about my family. My past. You and Lysandra talk so much about my bloodline and this connection to the Veil, but I don't know anything about it. My family was ordinary—or at least, I thought they were."

Alaric's expression shifted, a flicker of hesitation passing over his face. "Your family may have been more involved than you realize," he said carefully.

"What do you mean?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Before Alaric could respond, Lysandra entered the room, her usual calm demeanor tinged with urgency. "We have visitors," she announced. "And they're not from the fairy realm."

Iori stood abruptly. "Who?"

"Humans," Lysandra replied, her eyes sharp. "They claim to know you."

Iori's heart skipped a beat. "Humans? How did they find us?"

"They were guided here by something—or someone," Lysandra said, her voice laced with suspicion. "Come. You need to see this for yourself."

The sanctuary's outer courtyard was bathed in golden light, but the air was thick with tension. Two figures stood near the entrance: an older man and a woman, both dressed in simple but well-worn clothes. Their faces were weathered, but their eyes shone with a mixture of determination and concern.

Iori froze as recognition washed over her. "Mom? Dad?"

Her parents turned toward her, relief flooding their expressions. "Iori!" her mother exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her.

"What are you doing here?" Iori asked, her voice trembling. "How did you find this place?"

Her father stepped forward, his expression serious. "We were told where to find you," he said. "By someone who said you'd need us."

"Someone?" Alaric interjected, his voice wary. "Who?"

Her mother hesitated, then produced a small, intricately carved wooden pendant. It glowed faintly as she held it out. "The man didn't give us his name, but he left this and said it would lead us to you."

Lysandra stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she examined the pendant. "This is ancient fairy craftsmanship," she said. "Whoever gave this to you has ties to our realm."

Iori took the pendant, her fingers tingling as she touched it. A strange warmth spread through her, accompanied by a surge of images—her parents standing beside her as a child, her mother tucking her in at night, her father showing her how to mix colors for painting.

But beneath those memories was something else: glimpses of her parents in another setting entirely. They stood in a vibrant forest, speaking to a figure cloaked in golden light.

"Iori," her father said, his voice pulling her back to the present. "There's something we need to tell you."

Her stomach tightened. "What is it?"

Her mother exchanged a glance with her father, then took Iori's hands in hers. "You're right to feel like you're different, Iori. We always knew you were special. You're not just connected to this world or the fairy realm—you're a bridge between them."

"What?" Iori whispered, her head spinning.

Her father sighed heavily. "Your grandmother—my mother—was part of a human lineage that worked alongside the fairies to protect the Veil. She was a guardian in her time, just as you are now. When she passed, that responsibility was meant to skip a generation, but it found its way to you."

Iori staggered back a step, her mind reeling. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

"We wanted to," her mother said softly. "But we thought we could protect you by keeping you away from it. When you were born, the Veil was stable, and we hoped you'd never have to bear this burden."

Alaric stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Iori's parents. "And yet, you must have known it was only a matter of time before she was drawn into this. The Veil always calls its guardians."

Her father nodded grimly. "We knew. But we still wanted to give her a chance at a normal life."

Iori's emotions churned—anger, confusion, and a strange sense of relief all battling for dominance. "So this… this is why I've always felt different? Why I've always had these strange dreams and visions?"

Her mother nodded. "Yes. It's in your blood, Iori. And it's why you're stronger than you realize."

Before Iori could respond, the pendant in her hand flared with light. A deep, resonant hum filled the air, and the ground beneath their feet seemed to tremble.

"What's happening?" Iori asked, panic rising in her chest.

Lysandra's expression darkened. "The pendant was a signal. Whoever gave it to them wanted us to reveal ourselves—and now they know where we are."

The courtyard darkened as shadows began to form at the edges of the sanctuary. The Sentals had found them.

Alaric unsheathed his blade, his amber eyes blazing. "Prepare yourselves. This was a trap."

Iori clutched the pendant tightly, her fear giving way to determination. She turned to her parents, who looked at her with a mixture of pride and fear.

"Stay behind me," she said, her voice steady. "I'll protect you. No matter what."

As the shadows advanced, Iori felt the power within her stir once more—this time, stronger than ever. The connection to her family's legacy had awakened something deeper, and she was ready to face whatever came next.