Page 23 of House of Ydril

There’s a quiet click before there’s silence again. And just like that, the door is open.

My heart doesn’t stop pounding even as I turn to my friend and throw her a shaky smile. “See?”

But when we step inside, my mind goes blank for a second.

“Holy,” I hear Nuala start and immediately break off.

To my surprise, the Olarel Room isn’t a room full of books containing the information on the House Olarel. It’s an empty space with ancient-looking wallpapers that have the family tree painted on them.

“Wow,” my friend drawls as I walk to the left side of the room, where the tree begins.

At the top, there’s the name Olarel painted on a yellowed scroll with the family motto below. Sight beyond sight, it says in a cursive so ornate, it’s practically illegible.

And right below the motto, the family tree begins, featuring stylized portraits of the members of the House with numbers that seem to be too small to denote births and deaths. But then I remember what Professor Mistila told me.

“It says here,” I say to my friend as I stare at the portrait of a sullen fae-blooded man, “that the first member of the House was born in 52 AD.”

“52? I thought it was 53,” she says absentmindedly, her voice echoing through the empty room. “But he’s not technically the first. Just the first we know of.”

I nod, my eyes still fixed on the portraits of people that, on close inspection, look a lot less human than I do. I take a step closer to look at the woman by the name of Namys who was born in 127 AD, died in 486 and had a forehead as tall as the rest of her face.

If I came here under any other circumstances, I’d take my sweet time and get a good look at each and every one of those ancient faces. But right now, I’m too eager. Too desperate. That these people are my family,thatfact I’m still struggling to accept, but it doesn’t make the urgency I’m feeling any less, well, urgent.

So I walk past the first two walls and stop where the family tree ends, somewhere in the middle of the third.

“Are those your parents?” Nuala asks when she walks up to me.

We’re looking at the portraits of two faes, one man and one woman, who seem to be the last of their line. I draw in a breath as I read their names and the numbers telling me when they lived.

“No,” I just say, disappointment in my voice. “They both died in the eighteenth century. Even if they did have a child and that child wasn’t included in this tree, it couldn’t be me.”

“Bummer.” That’s all she says, but I can feel her eyes on me.

“Yeah…”

Is that really it, I wonder. Another dead end? But I can’t tear my eyes away from the wallpaper. It’s only when I find myself staring at the blank space where the portraits of my parents should be that I notice the pattern. Those birds that are featured on the crest of the House of Ydril. The ones that brought out a memory I didn’t even know I had. The ravens.

“You know what?” I turn to face Nuala. She’s just waiting for me patiently. “I don’t think this can be it. I’m going to ask Moswen,” I add, determined as fuck as I open my bag to dig out the diary, throwing one look around to make sure we’re still alone.

“You’re carrying that thing around?” my friend asks with surprise in her voice.

“Of course. It’s too valuable for me to just leave it in my room. And she did tell me to open it if I ever needed her.”

Nuala opens her mouth to protest, but it just stays that way when Moswen appears in front of us, throwing me an annoyed look when she sees my friend there. “I don’t remember giving you permission to turn me into some spectacle.”

“Nuala is my closest friend here and she won’t say a word, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I plead with her.

“That’s right,” Nuala nods.

“And I really need your help.” I motion at the wallpaper behind me.

“The Olarel Room?” she asks after she glances around. “I swear on the Holy Word itself, if you’ve called me to help you with some History assignment…”

I shake my head, rushing to explain, “The books I got, they belong to someone from this House, which means…”

She cuts me off, a look of surprise in her eyes, “That you’re a descendant.”

“Exactly.” I nod, happy that she’s just confirmed what Professor Mistila told me.

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