Javier's eyes narrowed slightly, his head dipping just enough to hide the shift in his gaze. He caught it, the faintest glimmer in his father's right eye, a glow so subtle that no one else in the chamber would have noticed.
Inside his mind, the thought struck him sharp as a blade.
Ah… so Father is using it. The All-Knowing Eyes. The Eyes of Truth.
He leaned back slowly, masking his realization with a lazy sigh, but his chest tightened.
That skill… only born once every thousand years.
His mind pulled back to the memory of the dwarven ruins, when he was sent to cleanse the filth of the celestial corruption. Deep beneath stone and dust, hidden behind a sealed door, he'd found the fragmented notes. Ancient scrawl on brittle parchment, recounting the lineage of rare gifts, the eyes that saw beyond lies, beyond masks, beyond even the veil of magic.
So Father is one of them. A bearer of the special sight.
