Secret Heir (Dynasty #1)(11)
The realization of how surreal all of this is, threatens to drown me in that moment and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Magnus notices my expression.
“You’ll get used to it. In time, and I hope you’ll grow to like it here. It’s where you belong.”
The sane part of me still refuses to accept that any of this is even true. I mean who’s to say that this man didn’t just pick me out randomly and kidnap me under the guise of being my long lost grandfather? That sounds like the most likely explanation. But not when he knows things about me, about my thoughts, the things that lay dormant inside me, that no one in this entire universe could possibly know.
Then, of course, there was the fact that he happens to be in possession of a conclusive DNA test. He’d shown it to me earlier and it looked genuine enough, apparently issued by the hospital lab in Brockton itself. But how am I meant to know for sure that it’s not some forgery? The birth certificate would have been easy enough to get a copy of, too, if he knew what he was looking for. But who would go to all that effort for a nothing and no one like me? An orphan with no past and no future? The doubts rage in my mind, but I’m reminded that none of it even matters, I’m stuck in this place regardless. At least for now.
Then, as if reading my thoughts, or maybe my expression is just that transparent, Magnus’s gaze lands on me.
“If you’re still in doubt about your lineage, then maybe this will help ease your mind.”
At the exact same time as he says those words, we pass by a large, gold framed painting, the sight of which makes me stop in my tracks.
The portrait is of a king. But not just any king. I know, even without being told who that man in the portrait is, with the dark hair and gentle features. I know, because just as Magnus had said before, this man has my eyes. The freakish violet color with the uncanny silver rings which I know no one else in this entire universe could possibly possess. Looking at those eyes staring back at me from the portrait, is like looking in the mirror and I feel chills racing down my spine at the very sight.
I examine the skillfully painted portrait for what seems like an eternity, my eyes taking in the crown of sapphires atop the man’s dark hair, the midnight blue velvet cape draped on one side of his tall frame. But even without those symbols of royalty, even through the painting, the air of authority that I can feel radiating from this man’s face, is unmistakeable. There’s a sadness in those features, too. A loneliness. Some part of me wonders that if, perhaps, for as long as I had been alone, he had been, too.
But I say nothing and when I’m able to move again, I turn away from that face and continue to walk in silence.
Something occurs to me then.
“Were you the King before …” I can’t bring myself to call the man I never knew, my father. But Magnus seems to understand.
“No. the rule of Eden didn’t fall upon me in my generation,” he replies.
We reach another hall then, as vast as all the others. But instead of white and black marble, every inch is covered with intricate murals—richly colored and startlingly life-like. The hall is so large, that I imagine it would take months to examine every depiction. As if drawn, I walk up to one of the walls and run my fingertips over the cool surface.
“Ah yes, while trying to track you down, I learned that you are a very talented artist. You’ll appreciate these murals.”
“I inherited my mom’s talent.” I reply, semi-distracted, as I peer up at the masterful mural.
“What are these?” I ask, as I continue to stare.
“These murals depict the history of Eden, going back to the beginning of time itself. I believe that recreations can be found in some of the grandest Cathedrals on Earth, but these are the originals.”
Magnus gestures to the image of a beautiful landscape. The tumultuous scene is so real, that I can almost feel myself being immersed in the spectrum of elements portrayed.
The landscape begins with the image of night. The blanket of stars and the lone moon almost glow against the backdrop of the midnight sky. The night turns into a storm as lightning rages through the frozen landscape with snow topped mountains shooting up into the dark grey sky.
The harsh landscape gives way to a raging sea, as the storm turns into a tempest. The landscape changes then. The sky remains overcast, but the dark green waves give way to a windswept scene with autumn leaves sweeping through the brown and gold landscape. Autumn turns to spring, as roses bloom amidst the lush green hills and sparkling lakes.
The last scene is the total opposite of the first. In place of night and winter, the scene is of clear blue skies and summer. The sun gleams in the impossibly blue sky, encasing everything with its golden light.
“This landscape represents the full spectrum of the powers of the Seraph. All Seraphs can influence the elements with varying abilities, but as I said before, the members of the seven Dynasties are the most powerful.
“The sovereign Evenstar bloodline rules over the night with the moon and stars as our allies. This is why you feel such a connection to the night. The Aspen Dynasty has its strength in winter and ice, the Aldebran Dynasty in storm and sea. Then there is autumn, which is the domain of the Oaknorth Dynasty, and spring which belongs to the Hemlock Dynasty. The last two Dynasties have always been the closest of allies—the Delphine Dynasty who rule summer, and finally the St. Tristan Dynasty, the other sovereign Dynasty, which lords over the sun and daylight.