Lord of the realm

Chapter 177: Back with the family

Raelana mentioned something about reinforcing the wards and slipped away quietly.

That left Jaenor sitting at the dining table with three women who mattered most in his life.

Emmanuelle sat at the head of the table, her posture relaxed now that the worst of her worry had passed. She’d sent the servants away, ensuring complete privacy. Her sharp eyes watched her grandson with a mixture of relief and lingering concern—he’d woken up, yes, but what had he become during those days of meditation?

Morgana sat to Jaenor’s left, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. She studied him with attention, noting the subtle changes. His eyes held depths they hadn’t before. His presence felt different—not threatening, but definitely more substantial, as if he occupied more space than his physical form should allow.

Rena was on his right, sitting close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. She’d always been tactile with her affection, and now that he was awake, she seemed determined to maintain physical contact as if afraid he might vanish again if she let go.

For several moments, they simply sat together in comfortable silence.

Then Emmanuelle spoke.

"You’re different."

It wasn’t a question.

Jaenor met her gaze and nodded slowly.

"I am. The transformation at Ki’thara—merging my cores—it changed me at a fundamental level. I’m still me, still Jaenor. But I’m also more than I was."

"More powerful?" Morgana asked carefully.

"Yes. But it’s not just about power."

Jaenor struggled to find words for something that defied easy explanation. "It’s like I was seeing the world through a narrow window before, and now the walls have fallen away. I can perceive things I couldn’t before. Understand connections between forces that seemed separate. Feel the flow of energy through everything around me."

He looked at his hands, watching as faint traces of unified energy—that golden-red light shot through with other colors—danced across his skin before fading.

"The price was high, though. Days in a trance, my body rewriting itself to handle what I’d become. If I’d been interrupted during that process, if something had forced me to wake before I was ready..."

He shook his head. "I don’t know what would have happened. Nothing good."

Rena squeezed his arm gently.

"But you made it through. That’s what matters."

"Did I, though?" Jaenor’s voice was quiet.

"Make it through unchanged? Or did I become something else wearing Jaenor’s face?"

"You’re still you," Rena said firmly.

"I can see it in your eyes. Whatever power you’ve gained, whatever changes have occurred—your core self is intact. You’re still the boy who cried over Taeryn’s dog, who helped me practice swordwork even though I was terrible at it, who always shared his dessert with me."

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Jaenor smiled slightly.

"You were terrible at sword work. Still are, probably."

"See?" Rena said triumphantly.

"Still the same annoying Jaenor I’ve always known."

The tension eased slightly, but Emmanuelle brought them back to more pressing matters.

"What do you know about the situation in the realm? You’ve been isolated here for over a week. Much has changed."

Jaenor’s expression grew more serious.

"More than you’d think. While I was in a trance, I wasn’t entirely unconscious. My awareness extended beyond my body in ways I don’t fully understand. I could sense major events and feel disturbances in the energy patterns that run through everything."

He paused, organizing his thoughts.

"The situation is worse than any of us realized. The Seven Sins—all seven—are actively coordinating. They’re planning something massive. Multiple simultaneous operations designed to destabilize everything."

Morgana leaned forward, her healer’s calm cracking slightly.

"All seven? That hasn’t happened since—"

"Since before the Separation," Jaenor finished.

"I know. They’re preparing for something significant. A resurrection, I think, though the details are unclear. They need a vessel—a body capable of containing tremendous power. And they’ve identified me as a potential candidate."

Silence fell, heavy and oppressive.

"They want to use you," Emmanuelle said quietly.

"For what?"

Morgana said in a low voice, "Don’t tell me...they are going to bring..."

"Yes. But there’s more." Jaenor looked at Morgana.

"The Covens are in upheaval. The Mother Supreme has been meeting with Empress Beatrice II. They’re forming an alliance—Empire and Covens working together for the first time in generations."

Morgana’s eyes widened.

"That’s... unprecedented. The Covens have maintained independence specifically to avoid imperial entanglement. For Wendelina to agree to an alliance—"

"Means she’s terrified of something worse than losing autonomy," Jaenor finished.

"And she should be. There are demon legions gathering in the North Trenches. Thousands of them, led by Black Orcs who’ve been training and organizing for years. When they move, it won’t be a raid—it’ll be an invasion."

Rena’s grip on his arm tightened.

"And the witch sisters? Elizabeth and Katerina? Are they part of this?"

Jaenor’s expression darkened.

"They’ve been turned. Corrupted by Pride—Draelusa. They’re planning an assault on the Silver Spire itself, coordinated with other attacks across the realm. They don’t realize they’re being used, that Pride sees them as disposable tools. But that doesn’t make them less dangerous."

Emmanuelle absorbed this information with the calm of someone who’d spent decades managing crises.

All three of them were completely shocked and greatly astonished that he could perceive all this just by sitting here in this estate. Just how strong he had become, Morgana wondered.

He was definitely past the ranks of the mortals. But he wasn’t completely transcended.

"So we face coordinated attacks from demon forces, betrayal within the covens, and you’re a target for beings who want to use you as a vessel for their god."

She said it matter-of-factly, as if listing items on a shopping list. "Have I missed anything?"

"Magdalyna," Jaenor said quietly.

All three women looked at him sharply.

"The ancient demoness," Morgana said slowly.

"What about her?"

"She’s been protecting me. Watching over me since I was born. And she..." Jaenor hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

"She wants me to leave. To go with her to other realms where I’d be safe from all of this."

"And you refused," Rena said, understanding immediately.

"I did, because running means abandoning everyone here, letting the realm burn while I hide somewhere safe. That’s not who I am."

He looked at each of them in turn. "You’re my family. All of you. I won’t leave you to face this alone."

Tears gathered in Rena’s eyes, though she blinked them back stubbornly. Morgana reached across the table to squeeze his hand. Emmanuelle’s expression softened, pride mixing with the ever-present worry.

"So what do we do?" Rena asked.

"How do we fight forces this large, this powerful?"

"I will take care of everything," Jaenor said.

Morgana then said, "Jaenor, my dear nephew, you can’t always win anything with power. We need forces to fight this war, people to stand by our side."

"You said that Mother Supreme is being allied with the empire. See, even though they don’t need to, they are doing it, just for the sake of protecting what’s important to them."

"We need to make those witches understand that you are not a threat. We need to make people believe that you are on their side."

"That’s asking a lot from a small group of fugitives hiding on a wine estate," Jaenor pointed out.

"I know," Morgana admitted.

Emmanuelle’s eyes narrowed.

"One step at a time, my boy had just gotten out of his room. He will get there when he gets there."

Jaenor stood and said with a smile. "Enough with the chat. I have learned one more thing."

"Its my beast."

"Ba’narussa. She’s been patient, waiting for me to grow into my power. Now I’m ready. And with her, we’re not just a small group of fugitives anymore. We’re a force that even the Seven Sins will have to respect."

Morgana remembered that Jaenor’s mother mentioned when she found him when he was a baby. The bloodline’s beast—she had almost forgotten about it. To think that Jaenor was able to summon it, her eyes filled with pride.

"Show us," Rena said immediately.

"If you have this power, if you can summon this beast—show us. Let us see what we’re working with."

"Not here. We’ll need space. A lot of space."

He looked at his grandmother.

"The northern field—the one you keep fallow for soil recovery. That should be large enough."

Emmanuelle rose as well.

"I’ll gather the others. If we’re doing this, everyone should see."

-

An hour later, the entire household had assembled in the northern field.

It was perhaps ten acres of open ground, currently unused, with grass that had grown wild and tall. Hills rose on all sides, creating a natural amphitheater that would contain whatever was about to happen.

Jaenor stood in the field’s center, his friends and family arranged at a safe distance behind him. The estate’s guards had been pulled back further, though they watched with obvious curiosity and concern.

The morning sun was fully risen now, casting long shadows across the grass. Wind moved through the field in gentle waves, carrying the scent of earth and growing things.