The patriarch’s dwelling rose impressively against the darkening sky, its wooden beams glowing warmly from the light of crystal lamps inside.
The tall double doors, carved with the clan’s ancient symbols the central hall opened before them.
The great hall was the heart of the home—a vast space with a high ceiling supported by curved wooden beams.
A large rectangular table dominated the centre, set with plates carved from sacred heartwood and cups of polished stone. Crystal lamps hanging from the ceiling cast a warm, golden glow over everything.
Jorghan immediately noticed the tension in the room.
He could see the hatred in the twins’ eyes as they regarded him with animosity, which Jorghan had gotten used to now.
He turned to look at the head of the family, Korreth, also the patriarch of the Nor’vack clan and his aunt’s husband.
His imposing figure, even taller than Sigora at nearly nine feet, was adorned with the ceremonial markings of leadership across his blue-tinted skin. He didn’t understand why she stayed married to that man, and he didn’t think his presence was the reason for the distance between him and his aunt, as they rarely talked. And more lately, his aunt had been avoiding him.
And the woman seated beside him was the reason for that.
That woman drew Jorghan’s attention.
Meytiri, Korreth’s new wife, sat proudly at his right hand—a position that once belonged to Sigora.
Though younger than Sigora by at least a century, Meytiri carried herself with the confidence of someone who knew her position was secure. Her elaborate headdress, studded with sky crystals, caught the light whenever she moved.
She was slender, and her skin was more vibrant.
Sigora’s face revealed nothing as she looked at her husband and his new wife.
Though Nor’vack marriages often included multiple partners over their long lives, the recent union had created a rift that everyone in the clan had noticed.
Since the marriage ceremony three moon cycles ago, Sigora and Korreth had barely exchanged words.
Sigora took her seat across from them, notably distant from Korreth and Meytiri.
Servants—lower-ranking clan members—entered carrying platters of food: roasted cloudfish caught from the open skies between islands, vegetables grown in the clan’s hanging gardens, and bread made from grain.
Korreth cleared his throat, the sound like distant thunder in the quiet hall. "We waited," he said simply, his deep voice carrying an edge of disapproval.
"I had matters to attend to," Sigora replied coolly, not meeting his gaze. "Important matters regarding Jorghan’s training."
At the mention of Jorghan’s name, the twins—Morden and Lira—exchanged looks across the table. Unlike Swana and Sik’ra, who had welcomed Jorghan from the beginning, the eighteen-year-old twins had never warmed to their human brother.
"Again with the human child?" Meytiri spoke up, her high, melodic voice carrying a note of disdain.
"Surely the clan have more pressing concerns than one orphan’s education."
Swana’s hand tightened around her cup. "Jorghan is family," she said firmly.
"So you keep saying," Korreth muttered, serving himself a large portion of cloudfish. "Yet I see little evidence of why this outsider requires such attention from the clan’s high sorceress."
Jorghan kept his eyes on his plate, feeling the familiar heaviness settle in his chest.
Six years in the patriarch’s home, and still, Korreth looked at him as though he were a strange creature that had wandered in from the wilderness.
Sigora passed a platter to Jorghan. "Eat," she encouraged quietly. "You’ll need your strength for tomorrow."
The twins watched with undisguised curiosity. "What happens tomorrow?" Lira asked, her voice pitched sweet but her eyes hard.
"Nothing that concerns either of you," Sigora replied. Focus on your own studies. I believe your crystal manipulation skills still need considerable work."
Morden scowled, stabbing at his food with unnecessary force. "At least we’re true Nor’vack," he muttered just loud enough to be heard.
"Morden," Sik’ra warned, his voice dropping dangerously low.
Korreth raised a hand, silencing the brewing argument. "This is a dinner table, not a council chamber. We will eat in peace."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the table.
Jorghan tried to make himself smaller, wishing he could disappear entirely. He focused on his food, taking small bites of the cloudfish, which tasted like a cross between salmon and something sweeter he couldn’t name.
Like always, they was glares and stares from the twins and the newly added woman. Meytiri was watching Jorghan with great interest, which annoyed him, but he didn’t let it show on his face.