Time/Date: Early Morning, TC1853.01.10
Location: Brenner Estate, Lord Garrick's Private Quarters
The knock on Lord Garrick Brenner's door came in that hour before dawn when the world hung suspended between darkness and light. Not the respectful tap of a servant. Nor the authoritative rap of a business associate. This carried the desperate urgency of crisis—the kind that couldn't wait for civilized morning hours.
Garrick opened the door himself, already dressed despite the early hour. At ninety years old, sleep had become increasingly elusive, replaced by the restless calculation of a merchant prince who never truly stopped working. His pale green eyes—sharp as winter stone—took in the sight before him with immediate assessment.
Edmund's hollow expression. Selene's trembling hands. The weight of catastrophe hanging over them both like a shroud.
"Inside," he commanded, voice carrying the iron authority that had built an empire. "Now."
They filed into his private study—a room that had witnessed decades of ruthless business decisions but never quite like this. Lady Isolde emerged from the adjoining chamber, silver hair perfectly arranged despite the hour. Pale blue eyes, sharp with aristocratic alertness, assessing the situation with the instinct of someone trained from birth to recognize brewing disaster.
"This had better be worth disturbing us at this ungodly hour," she said, voice carrying that distinctive Montague chill. Even as she spoke, her gaze fixed on Selene with the kind of focused attention a predator gave prey.
Garrick moved behind his desk—his fortress, his place of power—and gestured sharply at the chairs facing him. "Sit. Speak. This had better explain why my son looks like he's seen his own death."
Edmund remained standing. Hands gripping the back of a chair until his knuckles turned white. When he spoke, his voice carried the hollow quality of a man who'd discovered his entire life was built on lies.
"Father, there are things about Mara—about our family—that you need to know. Things that Selene never told anyone. Not even me." He paused. "Not completely."
Garrick's pale eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."
Selene opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. The nightmare's terror still clung to her—that sensation of cosmic hooks pulling at her soul. The weight of chains forged from seventeen years of cruelty. Edmund glanced at her, saw her paralysis, and made the decision that would change everything.
"Mara isn't my daughter," Edmund said quietly. "She never was. And the baby swap... it wasn't what we told you."
The silence that followed pressed down like physical weight.
Garrick's weathered face went very still. That terrible merchant's stillness that preceded his most ruthless business decisions. "Explain."
The words tumbled from Edmund in a rush—the triple baby swap, Serenya given to Caelia, a stolen child brought to the Brenners, Amara presented as Eveline's legitimate heir. With each revelation, color drained from Garrick's face, shifting from weathered tan to pale white. Lady Isolde's hand moved to grip the arm of her chair, aristocratic composure cracking to reveal genuine shock beneath.
"Stop," Garrick commanded when Edmund reached the part about the hospital. Voice could have frozen fire. "Go back. Three babies. Three families." Pale eyes fixed on Selene like daggers. "Whose daughter is Mara?"
Selene's voice came out barely above a whisper. "Caelia Lin and Darian Long's. Their biological daughter. Stolen on the night of her birth."
Garrick's face shifted from white to an unhealthy gray as understanding began to dawn.
"Caelia Lin." He repeated it slowly, pale eyes shifting between Edmund and Selene. "That name... why do I know that name?"
"She's from the Lin Healer Clan," Lady Isolde said, aristocratic memory for bloodlines impeccable. "One of the Celestial Houses. Married to Darian Long about..." She calculated quickly. "Twenty-eight years ago. Caused quite a scandal—the Long patriarch opposed the match."
Garrick's gaze fixed on Selene like a predator scenting prey. "And how exactly do you know Caelia Lin well enough to orchestrate stealing her newborn child?"
The question hung in the air like a blade.
Selene's hands twisted in her lap. No words came out. Edmund closed his eyes, knowing this particular deception was about to unravel along with all the others.
"Father," he said quietly. "Selene and Caelia are twin sisters."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Twin sisters," Garrick repeated it, voice dangerously soft. "From the celestial Lin family." His weathered face had gone completely still. "Edmund, when you married Selene eight years ago, you told us she was from a respectable merchant family in the Sixth District. That her parents had died. That she had no living relatives."
"I lied," Edmund said. The admission tasted like ash. "Selene made me promise never to tell anyone about her connection to the Lin family. She said it would bring danger to our household."
Lady Isolde's pale eyes had gone cold as winter ice. "The Lin family. One of the eight great celestial houses." Her voice could have frozen fire. "You married a woman from a celestial bloodline and never thought to mention this to your parents? To us?"
"She wasn't—" Edmund stopped, realizing how his next words would sound. "Her bloodline regressed at her bloodrite ceremony. She lost her Lin markers. The family cast her out."
"Cast her out," Garrick said flatly, face taking on an even darker gray tone. "Or did she flee? Edmund, tell me—is she wanted by the Lin family?"
The question struck like a thunderbolt. Edmund's face went pale.
"The Long family, too," Selene whispered, voice barely audible. "After I... after the Amber Kiss incident with Darian. Both families have been searching for me since TC1835. Eighteen years."
Garrick's hand clutched at his chest. Breathing becoming more rapid. Gray pallor of his face deepened, sweat beginning to bead on his weathered forehead. Lady Isolde moved swiftly to his side, but her aristocratic composure had cracked to reveal genuine fury beneath.
"You brought a fugitive from two celestial families into our household?" Her voice climbed with each word. "You married her, gave her our name, allowed her to raise children under our roof—all while she was being hunted by the Long and Lin families?"
"I didn't know about the baby swap!" Edmund said desperately. "I thought we were just hiding her from an old scandal. I didn't know she'd stolen their daughter!"
"But you knew she was wanted." Garrick's voice grew strangled as he struggled to control his breathing. "You knew she was hiding from celestial families. And you brought that danger into our house. Into our family." Pale eyes fixed on Selene with something approaching horror. "What else haven't you told us?"
Selene couldn't answer. The weight of eighteen years of deception was finally crushing her beneath its accumulated mass.
"The Long family," Lady Isolde said, mind already calculating political implications with aristocratic precision. "Kaelith Long, the Dragon Emperor of War. His son Darian is married to Caelia Lin." She turned to Garrick, and for the first time, genuine fear showed in her pale eyes. "We've been harboring the woman who drugged and stole from both families. And we've been torturing their stolen child for seventeen years."
Garrick swayed. Weathered face going from gray to ashen. Breathing had become labored, one hand pressed against his chest as if physical pressure could contain the growing crisis. Edmund lunged forward to steady him.
"Father!" Edmund gripped his shoulders. "Someone call for a healer!"
"No." Garrick gasped it out, waving off the concern with a trembling hand. "No healers. Not yet." Pale green eyes, usually so sharp with calculation, now held something close to panic. "Edmund... do you understand what you've done? The Long family doesn't negotiate when it comes to matters of bloodline. They execute threats. Permanently."
"And the Lin family," Lady Isolde added, voice carrying deadly calm despite her own visible distress, "protects their own with cosmic law itself. Even a fallen daughter's child would be under their protection if stolen."
She moved to the window, staring out at the pre-dawn darkness. "When the DNA tests confirm the truth—and they will—both families will learn everything. The theft. The abuse. The systematic torture of a child with potential access to three celestial bloodlines."
"But we didn't know—" Edmund began.
"It won't matter." Garrick cut him off, voice rough as he fought to steady his breathing. "We harbored a fugitive. We raised their stolen child as a servant. We..." His breathing grew more labored. "Edmund, they won't just destroy Selene. They'll destroy our entire family. Everything I've built over ninety years. The Brenner name will be ashes."
The air in the study seemed to thicken. Servants who'd been hovering near the doorway backed away instinctively, as if the weight of cosmic judgment was becoming physically tangible. One of the younger maids made a warding gesture—old superstitions rising unbidden.
Before anyone could respond, Lady Isolde's voice cut through with aristocratic precision. "Wait. If Mara has potential tri-bloodline heritage—Long, Lin, and Zhao—why has she never shown any celestial markers? No violet eyes, no distinctive features, nothing that would indicate such powerful bloodlines?"
The question hung in the air like an accusation.
"Bloodline suppression poisons," Selene admitted. Words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "Starting when she was three years old. Small doses, carefully measured. Enough to prevent any markers from manifesting, to keep her... ordinary. Invisible."
Garrick's already labored breathing hitched. Grip on the desk tightening until his knuckles showed white beneath papery skin. "You poisoned a child. For fourteen years."
"To hide her," Selene said desperately. "If her bloodlines had manifested, people would have known—would have recognized the Lin markers, the Zhao traits. I had to keep her hidden. Had to make sure no one would ever suspect—"
"What did she look like at birth?" Lady Isolde interrupted, voice carrying deadly precision. "Before you started poisoning her. What markers did she display?"
Selene's face crumbled. "Violet eyes," she whispered. "Deep violet with a silver ring around the outer edge of the iris. The Lin violet and... something else. The Zhao silver. Both visible from birth."
"Dual marker manifestation." Isolde breathed it out, aristocratic knowledge of bloodlines recognizing the significance immediately. "Both Lin and Zhao were visible from birth. That's... extraordinarily rare." Pale eyes narrowed. "What else?"
"A birthmark." Selene's voice broke. "On her left shoulder blade. A crescent moon shape, perfect and clear. Like... like Lady Lian's."
Garrick made a choking sound. His other hand moved to clutch at his chest, face going beyond ashen to a sickly gray-white. Sweat now pouring down his weathered features. Lady Isolde stood frozen, her aristocratic composure finally shattering completely. For a heartbeat, her perfect posture crumpled—shoulders curving inward as if struck. One hand reached blindly for the windowsill to steady herself.
"The Crescent Child," Isolde whispered. For the first time in Edmund's memory, his mother's voice held genuine fear. "By the Light... Selene, do you have any comprehension of what you've done?"
"What?" Edmund looked between his parents, supporting his father's weight. "What prophecy?"
"It's old." Isolde's voice was hollow. "From the Zhao family records. Lady Lian's birth celebration. A seer spoke of it—'When the Crescent Child is born again, she shall guard the Pillars of the Lower Plane.'" She looked at Selene with something approaching horror. "We studied it in the Montague archives—readings required of all noble daughters who might serve as diplomatic liaisons. It's mentioned in the ancient texts as a cosmic prophecy. Something about dimensional anchors. Reality stabilizers."
She moved back toward Garrick, movements unsteady. "You didn't just steal a tri-bloodline child from two celestial families. You stole a cosmic guardian. A being destined for... for something far beyond mortal understanding."
Garrick's chest heaved. Breathing becoming increasingly ragged. Weathered face had gone from gray-white to a dangerous flush as his heart struggled against the accumulated shock. "And we've been... poisoning her. Torturing her. Systematically destroying someone the universe itself..." He couldn't finish the sentence. Body swaying dangerously.
"Father!" Edmund's grip tightened, barely keeping the old man upright.
"The karmic debt," Edmund whispered, finally understanding the true scope even as he struggled to support his father's weight. "It's not just about bloodlines or families. We've been interfering with cosmic order itself."
"Fourteen years of poison," Lady Isolde said, voice carrying the weight of absolute judgment even as she moved to help support her husband. "To suppress celestial bloodlines. To hide a prophesied guardian. To torture someone marked by the cosmos for protection and purpose." She looked at Garrick's ashen face, his labored breathing, sweat soaking through his collar. "This isn't just about the Long and Lin families destroying us. This is about cosmic forces themselves demanding balance."
Garrick tried to speak, but his breathing had become too labored. Legs buckled slightly. It took both Edmund and Isolde to lower him into his chair. Face was a terrifying mix of gray, white, and unhealthy flush, chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow movements.
"I'm... fine," Garrick gasped out, but his grip on the chair arms told a different story. "Just... need a moment." Pale green eyes, usually so sharp, now held something Edmund had never seen before.
Terror.
Pure, absolute terror at the magnitude of what they'd done.
Not just theft. Not just abuse. Not just harboring a fugitive from celestial families.
They had tortured a cosmic guardian. Poisoned a prophesied child. Interfered with forces so far beyond mortal comprehension that even death might not be sufficient punishment for the karmic debt accumulated.
Several minutes passed in tense silence. Garrick fought to control his breathing, color slowly improving from the dangerous flush back to merely ashen gray. Edmund remained at his side, hand on his father's shoulder. Lady Isolde stood nearby, aristocratic mask firmly back in place, though her hands trembled slightly against the silk of her robe.
In that moment, watching his father struggle for breath, Edmund saw something he'd never witnessed in ninety years. Lord Garrick Brenner—the man who'd built a commercial empire through sheer will, who'd always had an answer, always had a plan—looked small. Fragile. Mortal in a way that went beyond physical weakness.
Finally, Garrick's breathing steadied enough for him to speak, though his voice remained rough and strained. "Edmund." That iron will reasserted itself even through obvious physical distress. "Get Amara. Now. We need to know... need to understand what we're facing." His jaw tightened. "And then... then we decide what must be done."
Edmund nodded and moved toward the door. Cast one last look at his father's ashen face, his mother's rigid posture, and Selene sitting small and diminished in her chair, finally understanding that the nightmare hadn't ended when she woke.
It was only just beginning.
Outside, the sun began to rise over Emberhall Estate, painting the sky in shades of crimson and gold. Dawn had come at last.
But for the Brenner family, it marked not a new beginning, but the beginning of the end.