Chapter 7 – Domus introduction

Kialan

"Kialan, are you okay?" my mom asked, her voice soft—concerned.

As if she'd sensed the shift in my mood.

I forced a smile. "Yes, Mom. I just thought I'd found a friend… turns out, it might be a foe instead."

She turned to me, brows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Mom," I replied quickly. "Just a line from a book I'm reading."

Because I can't tell her the truth—that the person sitting across from me might be someone important, and I don't even know his name.

She sighed, her gaze lingering on me a moment longer. "Alright… just be careful what you carry in your thoughts."

Before I could respond, a sharp voice called for attention.

"All right, everyone," Mr. Davey's voice rang clear across the hall, "all families are present. Let us begin the formal introductions."

A hush fell over the crowd.

"On my left," Mr. Davey continued, gesturing to the table beside him, "we have the Domus Ilyushin family."

Applause rippled through the room.

Their attire caught the light—black and white with deep red gems sewn in like droplets of meaning.

A bold combination.

Too bold, maybe.

Almost like they want to draw your eye… and then mislead it.

"Representing them tonight is Gowin Ilyushin, the current carrier of the family's Illusion Power. With him is his wife, Diazia Ilyushin, and their three children: Katrina Ilyushin, Jiana Ilyushin, and Cosmos Ilyushin—the chosen carrier of the Illusion Bloodline for the next generation."

One by one, they stood, bowing with the kind of grace that only came from practice—and expectation.

Three children?

I hadn't realized there were that many. But Cosmos—despite being the youngest—had been chosen.

So now I had a name.

Cosmos.

I turned slightly in my seat, trying to catch his expression. He didn't look up. His attention stayed on his plate, composed and distant.

I wonder how his power shows itself.

Why him? Why not one of the older two?

Before I could go further down that thought, Mr. Davey's voice rose again.

"The next family: Domus Hustharic—the bloodline of strength."

A subtle shift stirred through the room as all eyes turned to our table.

"From the right side, we have Huston Hustharic."

We wore brown leather adorned with animal skins and rare ornaments—subtle, yet unmistakable symbols of our strength.

My father stood, offering a calm, confident wave. The kind that said he had nothing to prove.

"With him is his wife, Viana Hustharic—the current carrier of the Strength Bloodline—and their only child, Kialan Hustharic, the chosen for the next generation."

My mother rose with quiet dignity.

When my name was called, I stood too, bowing as my parents did.

The applause that followed was respectful, if a little reserved.

I could feel the weight of attention—eyes measuring me, cataloging, deciding.

You might be wondering why my mom, not my dad, carries the Strength Power.

Don't worry.

I'll explain. Just… not now.

There was no time to linger—Mr. Davey spoke again, his voice rising with reverence.

"The next family is our gracious host—Domus Valenheart."

The applause swelled, louder than before. Deservedly so. Their name carried weight. Age. Prestige.

Their clothing stood apart—soft baby green and blue, woven through with gold thread that shimmered beneath the lights.

The healing emblem etched into their robes pulsed gently, like a heartbeat.

"Representing them is Raphael Valenheart, the current carrier of the Healing Bloodline."

Raphael rose smoothly, his smile warm and his presence… steady. Like calm water.

Even his movements felt like they could mend something.

Mr. Davey's tone softened.

"His wife, Valencia Valenheart, is no longer with us. Let us all observe a minute of silence in her honor."

Heads bowed.

The room hushed.

Even the air stilled.

After a beat, Mr. Davey continued, respectful as ever.

"Liam Valenheart, the carrier for the next generation, and his sister, Tessa Valenheart."

They stood together.

Liam—composed, but stiff, eyes dipping downward like he didn't want to be seen.

Tessa—graceful and bright, her smile offering what her brother couldn't.

Liam's older than his sister, I think.

But I'm older than both of them.

Still, he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Fidgeting hands. Shoulders a little too tense.

Was it shyness? Or something more?

"Kialan," my mom whispered, leaning toward me, "don't be rude."

I blinked.

Oops.

Did I say that last part out loud?

I adjusted in my seat, flushing slightly, just as Mr. Davey spoke again—

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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