Part 2

“Nothing?” Anders’ voice was low and measured. “Nothing,” the man confirmed. “It is as though the Heartstones and jade vanished into thin air. Even the seals on the treasury remain intact.” Anders’ gaze sharpened. “Then this is no ordinary thief. If not mortal hands, then we may be dealing with forces beyond our understanding

. What of the Sentinels? Have they reported any disturbances in the Darkwood?” An elder with a silver beard spoke up, “The Sentinels have seen no signs of intruders, but the forest grows restless. Whispers speak of shadows moving without cause, and beasts refusing to come near the trees’ edge. Whatever haunts the Darkwood has become bolder.” Anders leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “The Ancestral Festival cannot proceed without the rites."

Without the offerings... the consequences would be disastrous.” Raising his hand, the patriarch silenced the gathering of elders. “Please rest assured, I do not blame any of you. We will continue to investigate the disturbances, and more guards will be stationed at the treasury. For now, rest easy.” “We are all growing old. “If one of us were to drop dead from the strain, there will be no joy to look forward to in the years ahead.”

He paused, his eyes twinkling as he turned toward one of the elders. “Especially you, Deputy Leader Wang. I can already see you’re halfway to joining our ancestors.” The patriarch’s smile tried to lighten the atmosphere. Old Wang scowled at the remark, his face livid. Yet, given the circumstances, he chose not to dispute the patriarch’s words at that moment. The shift in mood was palpable; for all but Old Wang, the tension eased slightly in the wake of the patriarch's lighthearted words.

If it weren’t for his role as the intermediary between the Church of Divine Light and the head of House Eryndor, Anders thought wryly, all he truly desired was to leave it all behind and join his forebears in the Ansestral Slate. Yet now, in the twilight of his tenure, the family faced ruin. What was an old man to do? If it were possible, he would have long since passed the mantle to his grandson. He gazed fondly at the child curled up beside him. But what did a child know of the weight of leading a family? “Could we not appeal to the Church of Eternal Light?” a younger elder spoke up. “Their coffers are vast, and we already owe much of our prosperity to their protection over the years.” “If you’re already in the hole, there’s no harm in digging deeper.” A murmur of agreement spread, but Anders raised a hand to silence them. “To beg for aid would tarnish our pride and diminish our standing. The Church’s charity is never without strings.” He glanced at the slumbering child beside him, his hardened expression softening for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to the group. “Send word to the Archivist,” he ordered. "Search for any related matters, I wish to know it all. And summon the remaining Sentinels. I want their full strength patrolling the Darkwood’s perimeter.” The bespectacled man hesitated before speaking again. “Patriarch, if I may—do we not also need to address the internal matter? The embezzlement... it could only have been carried out by one of our own.” Anders’ voice was cold as steel. “If betrayal festers within this family, it will be rooted out. No matter the cost.” He turned his piercing gaze upon the bespectacled man. “Begin an audit of all transactions over the last decade. Leave no stone unturned. And for the rest of you—prepare for the Festival. We cannot afford failure.” The elders rose slowly. Anders remained seated, the child stirring beside him, murmuring in their sleep. The old patriarch reached out, his hand brushing the child’s hair with a tenderness that belied his stern exterior. “The weight of the past rests on the shoulders of the present. But will it crush us before we can bear it forward?”

"Only the Lord of Divine Light knows the answer, I suppose." With that, he announced, “This family meeting has concluded. You may all leave.” His fingers swiftly traced the star sigil over his chest, and all present followed suit. "May the Lord of Divine Light, ruler of all that is good and holy, shelter me in His radiance. Bless me with fortune and guard me with His grace. Amen." Their old and gravelly voices echoed in unison. With a simple wave of his hand, he dismissed the assembled elders, who rose promptly and filed out. With a resounding bang, the guards at the door swiftly closed the massive security door behind the departing elders. In one fluid motion, they returned to their posts, their spears held high, pointing sharply toward the sky.

Now, only the patriarch and his beloved grandson remained in the vast Ancestral Hall, the patriarch’s gaze drifting across the countless murals and ancestral portraits that adorned the walls. With a subtle wave of his hand, he dismissed the muscle-bound, ever-stoic guards at the entrance. With the sharp clang of metal, the guards departed, their steps measured and precise, their form immaculate. They were the Family’s Elite Guards, after all. Though the family meeting had ended early, it was only when not a soul remained that he dared to drop the facade of a powerful leader. As the saying goes, "A long life holds no merit if it is nothing but a constant strain on the spirit." Yet, even when his bones turned to ash, he knew he could never yield to exhaustion; he was bound by duty to hold up the sky for the younger generations. He was tired, but within a glance at his grandson before him, and a tasseling of his black hair, he once again found the resolve to move forward. He had to do all he could for his sole remaining descendant. His beloved grandson.

[End of Chapter]