Doren looked at Daria, his gaze unwavering. "He left us a way to find him," he said, his voice quiet but firm, his gaze on the Focal Stone in his hand. He then looked at his sisters, a determined fire in his blue eyes. "He left us a way to find out what happened to him."
Daria scoffed, the sound a low, bitter rumble from her throat. "If he's out there, it would be gracious if he returned," she said, her hands clenched into fists, a decade of unspoken resentment in her voice. "He didn't leave a trail, Doren. He just left us."
Jemsie put a hand on her sister's arm. "Daria," she whispered, her voice a soft, gentle plea. Leasie, however, said nothing, her presence a silent, calming anchor.
Doren looked at Daria, a flicker of his own temper burning in his eyes. "He was forced to leave… He left us a trail, Daria," he insisted, his voice rising with a new kind of frustration. He then held up the Focal Stone, its smooth, gray surface catching the light. He then placed it in the center of their palms, a silent, powerful presence. "This stone," he explained, "is the key. It's a link to his power, and to a way for us to find him."
Doren met his sisters' stunned gazes. The gasp from the girls was a sound he had never imagined, a mix of awe and disbelief.
He talked about his desire to leave, to follow his brother's trail and his father's ghost. Before he could even finish his thought, Daria slammed her hands on the table, the old wood groaning under the force. "You can't," she yelled, her voice raw with a decade of suppressed anger. "First Nergal, then Damurah, and now you? You can't just leave, Doren! We've already lost two brothers, we're not losing a third!"
Jemsie put a hand on Daria's arm, her soft touch a silent plea for her to calm down. Leasie, her presence a quiet anchor in the storm of Daria's anger, simply watched Doren, her eyes wide with a quiet, understanding fear.
Doren held up the Focal Stone, its smooth, gray surface a testament to his father's trust. "He didn't just give me this to train, Daria," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "He left me his journals. He wrote about a soul link, a connection between this stone and his own Powerhart. He told me that if I can tap into the stone, I might be able to find him. It's a compass, Daria. It's a way to find out what happened to him."
He looked at his sisters, his blue eyes pleading for them to understand. "I can't just sit here and wait. We can't let Mom waste away. I have to find him. I have to know what happened."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. Doren had laid out his plan, his secret, and his desperation. Now, he had to wait for them to make a choice.
A new wave of understanding, a new layer to the mystery, washes over Doren's sisters as they process the revelation. The man they thought they knew, the father who left for a king's war, was a god of all elements. He was a master of a power that Doren was only just beginning to tap into. The very air they breathed, the earth they stood on, the light and darkness that surrounded them, were all a part of a power their father had wielded with a quiet, loving control.
Daria, her anger now replaced with a profound shock, slumped back into her chair. Her hands were no longer clenched, but lay open on the table, a stark display of her new understanding. Her anger at him for leaving was still there, but now it was colored with a new kind of wonder and a quiet awe.
Jemsie's eyes, wide with a mix of wonder and hope, looked at Doren with a new kind of reverence. He was not just her brother; he was a key to a new world of mystery, a world of power and potential that had been hidden from them all.
Leasie simply stared at the Focal Stone. The subtle hum she felt from the stone, the silent presence she had always felt from Doren, was now a loud, powerful truth.
The silence that followed was a different kind of silence, no longer a silence of grief and anger, but a silence of possibility. Doren had given them a new reality, a new hope.
The silence in the room stretched, no longer filled with sorrow, but with the quiet weight of a new world. The girls looked at Doren, then at the Focal Stone, then back at Doren, their faces a mix of a decade of grief and a sudden, burning hope.
Daria was the first to speak. Her voice, once laced with anger, was now a low, rumbling murmur. "A Powerhart," she said, the words a foreign language on her tongue. "He didn't just leave a ghost behind, Doren. He left a map." She stood, her hands still trembling, but with a new kind of energy. "If this stone is a compass, then we have to make sure you know how to read it. He left for a war, and you're not going to be a hero if you can't protect yourself."
Jemsie, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of relief, put her hands on Doren's shoulders. Her touch was gentle, a small spark of light flowing into him. "We have to do this," she whispered, her voice filled with a fierce, unwavering hope. "Mom needs him. We need him. I'll help you, Doren. My light can help you see what's in the darkness. My magic can help you heal what's broken."
Leasie reached out and placed her small hand on Doren's. She didn't say anything, but her touch was a silent promise, a profound sense of trust that flowed between them. The little girl who absorbed their sorrow was now Doren's greatest strength.
The sisters were no longer scattered pieces of a broken family; they were a single, unified force. They had a purpose, a new hope, and a path forward. Their brother was now their leader, their compass, their only hope.