The dimly lit room flickered with the warm glow of the hearth as Talia sat cross-legged, her eyes fixed on her mother. There was something different about this night—a gravity in the air, a story long kept behind silent lips. Talia, now eighteen, had asked before, but her mother had always deflected, telling tales of others rather than the one that belonged to them. Tonight, though, her mother seemed ready.
With a deep sigh, Serene Thalorian ran her fingers through Talia's golden-blonde hair, her touch tender yet distant, as though her mind had drifted far into the past. The modest home they shared was small and simple, a stark contrast to the grandeur that had once belonged to their bloodline.
"Talia," her mother began, her voice soft and gentle yet burdened with the weight of two centuries of history. "There is something you must know about who we truly are. I feel is time."
Talia leaned in closer, her heart quickening as her mother reached into the drawer of a worn, wooden chest. From it, she retrieved an ancient emblem, dulled by time but still bearing the unmistakable symbol of House Thalorian—a radiant star intertwined with ethereal wings. Talia had seen it before, hidden beneath her mother's belongings, but she'd never asked.
"Long ago, we were not like this," Serene continued, her eyes distant, as if seeing a world that no longer existed. "We were not commoners living in shadows and pretending to be someone else. We ruled—no, we guided—an entire world. Xandria, our home, once flourished under the light of our ancestors. They believed we were descendants of the angels themselves."
"Angels?" Talia whispered, her mind struggling to grasp the weight of her mother's words. "But that's… a myth, isn't it?"
"Not a myth," Serene corrected, her gaze piercing through the shadows of the room. "A legacy. The Thalorian line stretched back over two millennia. Our ancestors were said to possess gifts—an ethereal beauty, wisdom beyond mortal years, and a connection to the heavens that none could rival. House Thalorian was more than royalty. We were the guardians of the divine balance, the stewards of Xandria's soul."
As her mother spoke, Talia felt a strange stirring inside her, as though something long dormant had been awakened. She had always felt different, like there was something in her blood that set her apart from the other common folk. Now, it all began to make sense.
"But… if we were so powerful, how did we fall?" Talia asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and sorrow.
Serene's eyes darkened, her fingers tightening around the emblem. "Jealousy, fear… and betrayal. House Ardentis. They envied the light we carried, the peace we maintained. They brought poison into the world, disrupted the balance. They used lies and bloodshed to tear down everything we had built. The Thalorian Empire, which had stood for two thousand years, fell in a single night."
Talia swallowed hard, imagining the chaos, the terror of that moment. Her ancestors—once revered as gods among mortals—had been overthrown by those who sought power for themselves.
"Ardentis seized the throne," her mother continued, her voice trembling with a suppressed fury. "They slaughtered our family. They hunted us down like animals. The world that had once bowed to us turned its back,some believed the lies that we were tainted, fallen angels, unworthy of the heavens we claimed and some just feared The Ardentis. But a few of us survived, hidden away, scattered across the stars. We took new names, buried our past, and lived in silence. That is how we have survived… until now."
Talia's eyes widened. "Until now? What do you mean?"
Serene looked at her daughter with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "You are the last, Talia. The last of the Thalorians. Our bloodline, our legacy—it all rests with you now. But you must remain hidden. House Ardentis still rules Xandria with an iron fist. If they knew a Thalorian still lived, they would stop at nothing to finish what they started."
The weight of the revelation settled heavily on Talia's shoulders. A thousand years of history, of divine legacy, of tragedy—it was all hers now. She wasn't just Talia anymore. She was Talia Thalorian, last of the angelic bloodline, heir to a forgotten throne.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked, her voice shaking. "How can I carry this legacy?"
Serene reached out and gently cupped her daughter's face. "You are not alone. Our people may be scattered, but they remember. There are whispers of hope in the shadows, Talia. They wait for the day a Thalorian will rise again. You may not be able to claim the throne, not yet. But one day, you will remind Xandria of who we truly are. You will remind them of the light we once brought."
Talia stared at the emblem, feeling its weight in her hand. The star and wings seemed to shimmer faintly in the firelight, as though they still carried a spark of the divine.
Two centuries of exile. A forgotten legacy. But Talia knew, in her heart, that her mother was right. The blood of angels still flowed in her veins. And one day, the world would know it again.
For now, though, they would remain in the shadows, hidden in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to reclaim what had been stolen from them.
"We may live as commoners," Serene whispered, "but never forget, Talia—we are Thalorian. And that means something far greater than any crown."
"I was there to see it, I saw it all." Talia's mother's voice cracked under the pressure of emotions. "I was there when the Mechanic Army leaped out of the fleet of Ardentis aircraft. The fleet in its entirety blocked out the sun for so very long."
She sighed deeply as her eyes closed and her face twisted as she relived the very memories. She remembered it like it was just a day prior. Her eyes burned with tears.
"We called it The Endless Night." She continued her explanation. "I was there for every single bomb they rained on the houses that stood against them, their technology was too advanced for us. Those who swore fealty to them were allowed to keep their ancestral seat as long as they fought under the Sun Banner, they even shared some of their technology and research. And those who stood against them end up like us."
"It's impossible for you to have seen it all. That was over 200 years ago." Talia protested in a joking manner but her mother's face remained stone cold.
"I kept myself alive all these years with this necklace. I traded all I had left after our fall for it." she murmured, avoiding Talia's gaze. She rubbed her hands over the red sapphire that was enclosed in a golden border with magical runes inscribed around it, it pulsed ominously.
"The enchantments kept me young and alive for over 274 years, however I'm afraid It is time I stopped wearing it, this world has become far too cold for me."