"If we're still gonna refer to Torem as my actual father, then I guess you can consider me the youngest child in a really long, really dead family tree."
Ria refilled her glass to the near brim, spilling a little bit of red onto the table. She pulled a face, and I wasn't sure if she was upset about having to recall this particular moment in her life, or because gravity had stolen a few precious drops of her wine.
"When Silas went to rummage through the smoldering ruins of my father's house, he didn't just find notes and journals about me. Actually, I barely even crop out in any of his entries. He didn't need to document me… not when he's already got a bazillion jillion pages detailing the life cycle of a phoenix up till the age of seven.
"Seven?" I said. "The same age you were?"
For my astute observation, Ria gave a little ambiguous smirk - but did she elaborate? Well, hopefully somewhere down the line, she will.
