Night fell.
The small fire crackled in the hearth.
Kaelen sat with his family — not as a stranger anymore, but still holding a secret heavy in his chest.
He listened to Riven's stories of almost winning a village sparring tournament.
He smiled at Lyanna's nervous explanation of her dream to become a scholar.
He laughed as Alen shyly showed him a stick he called his "practice sword."
But he could not stay silent forever.
Not now.
Not when everything was changing.
The Revelation
"I need to tell you something," Kaelen said softly, laying Sovereignblade Astryn across his knees.
The room grew still.
His mother's hands trembled slightly.
His father's gaze sharpened.
Kaelen spoke.
Of the Heartland.
Of the Pathbreakers.
Of the battles.
Of the dream to build a nation free of crowns and chains.
He told them he was not just Kaelen anymore.
He was Sovereign.
Leader of a rising world.
The cracked-crown sigil gleamed faintly as he removed his travel cloak.
Silence fell after he finished.
Long.
Heavy.
Then —
his mother reached across the table.
Took his hand.
Held it tight.
"You're still my son," she whispered fiercely.
"Whatever you've become."
His father grunted approvingly, eyes suspiciously bright.
Riven whooped and slammed a fist against the table.
Lyanna wiped silent tears from her eyes.
And Alen looked up at him with awe.
"Does this mean we can come with you?" Alen asked, voice trembling with hope.
Kaelen smiled.
Slow.
Fierce.
"Not just come," he said.
"We rise together."