Page 58 of Lost Heir
He shrugged. “It sounds interesting.”
Our father coughed into his hand. “Lyanna … where did you hear that term?”
I frowned at the rising tension that permeated the room. “Sir Edric told me. He said it was one of the abilities I have, but I haven’t learned how to do it.”
“Gods damn that bastard!” my mother shouted as she tossed her napkin on top of her full plate.
“Excuse me?” I felt as if I’d just been slapped. “What did you say?”
“You heard me clearly,” she scoffed. “That bastard kept you hidden for years andstillcouldn’t keep his mouth shut!”
“And it’s good he didn’t, because who knew what could have happened to me if I’d returned to Valoria!” I shouted. “You might’ve decided to send me to the Grasslands on one of your whims.”
My mother gasped. “I would never!”
I smiled at her condescendingly. “Sure, Mother.”
“Enough!” my father interrupted. “Lyanna, do you know what blood weaving entails?”
I nodded. “Slitting my wrists,” I answered confidently. Sir Edric had given me a brief overview when I contacted him using the Crimson Clan’s witch doctor.
“Whoa!” Marcellus turned his attention to me. “What exactly is blood weaving?”
I chuckled. “Something only I can do.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Of course it is.”
“From the moon goddess, we’ve learned that blood weaving takes a toll on the practitioner that goes well beyond physical scarring, Lyanna. Are you sure you want to do this?” my father asked.
I paused, weighing his words and the implications behind them. “I understand the risks,” I said, meeting his gaze firmly. “But if it's a part of who I am, part of the power I possess, then I need to learn. To not only protect myself, but those I care for.”
My mother snorted and rolled her eyes. “Interesting to hear you say that, although I’m guessing I’m not included in those you care for, since you so attacked me last night.”
I winced with the realization that my comment came back to bite me in the ass. Still, I refused to back down. “Let’s not pretend, Mother. You and I both know you’ve never liked me much.”
She was about to counter when my father interrupted, ignoring our squabble completely. “Lyanna, are you sure about this? Blood weaving can be dangerous.”
I turned my attention back to him. “I’m positive. I think it’s for the best.”
My father nodded slowly, though lines of concern were etched deeply on his face. “I can't say I'm thrilled with this decision, but I trust you know what you're doing. We'll need to find you a suitable teacher; someone who can guide you without putting you in unnecessary danger.”
“That's just it, isn't it?” my mother interjected, her tone cutting. “Who in Valoria knows about such dark arts? You're inviting trouble, Lyanna, meddling in powers better left untouched.”
I scoffed. “If it was dark arts, how come the moon goddess was a Blood Weaver? Are you saying the moon goddess was—”
“Lyanna!” my father stopped me before I could go further.
Tension rose as the breakfast that was meant to be a quiet family gathering turned into a battleground of wills. “It's not about inviting trouble, Mother. It's about being prepared for it,” I countered. “Sir Edric believed I was capable, and I trust his judgment.”
Marcellus, ever the peacekeeper, tried to lighten the mood. “Well, if Lyanna turns into a powerful Blood Weaver, I guess I'll have to up my game, as well. Can't have my big sister outshining me.”
His attempt at humor did little to dissolve the tension, but it did bring a small smile to my face. I was grateful for the levity in his words. “Thank you, Marcellus. I appreciate the support.”
My father cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to him. “We will discuss this further and find the best way forward. If this is truly your path, Lyanna, then we will ensure you have the support and guidance you need.”
The rest of the breakfast passed in strained silence, with each family member lost in their own thoughts. As the meal concluded and we stood to leave, I couldn't help but feel a mix of determination and apprehension. I was about to embark on a journey that could change everything. And yet, despite the uncertainty, I felt a sense of purpose, a calling to embrace my heritage and the powers that came with it. Especially if it could help me with whatever was to come. I was convinced Caelan had something up his sleeve.
As we parted ways, my resolve hardened. Blood weaving might be considered a dark, dangerous art, but it was part of me and the gift I’d been given. And with the right guidance, I believed I could master it; not for power or prestige, but for the protection of those I loved.
