“He is here because we want to talk to you,” I explained and turned back, silently calling my mate back to my side.
“I know you want to protect Evanna and the others from me, but—”
“Princess Evanna toyou,” Lachlan barked, and I could physically see the effort it took for my mate not to react to that.
“I know you think that I have been lying to them and to our people,” Brax continued, ignoring his outburst. “That I’m not who I say I am—”
“Because you are not. I know you are lying. You are hiding something, and I will do whatever it takes to expose you and show them what you really are,” my old friend seethed.
“You are right. I am lying,” my mate confessed, walking closer and making Lachlan falter with the statement. “I’m not who I said I was. I’m not a slave rescued by Evanna after escaping the Hollow. But the thing is, Lachlan, that even though I lied to you, to our people, to my friends, I never lied to them.” He gestured to me and Kingston. “Evanna and the chief knew who I truly was even before I realized it myself.”
Lachlan’s expression darkened. “I don’t understand,” he admitted, gazing towards my guardian and then at me.
“I know… but I think this will help.” Stepping out of the way, Braxton signaled towards his father’s portrait.
Instinctively holding my breath, I turned as my old friend walked past me towards the wall, waiting, hoping the second reason for placing the painting here today served its purpose.
Even with freshly polished bronze, the canvas spoke louder than any words could. Its presence perfectly mirrored the aged façade of my parents’ portrait, which hung right beside it. They were a painted at the same time years ago, before we were even born. No lie could ever replace the truth displayed on the canvas for all to see.
With each step, the contempt Lachlan felt for Braxton seemed to vanish, disbelief and bewilderment carving its way through his features in its stead. Stopping before the frame, he reached for the plaque just like my mate had done, admiring it.
“It reads,Khayden Skystorm,theHarbinger of Justice,” I offered, but something told me that, even without being able to read it, he already knew.
The Harbinger had been Lachlan’s idol for as long as I could remember. Even after being “disgraced” and deemed a “traitor,” my friend had never stopped admiring everything he accomplished before he “abandoned” us. He hated him too, more out of hurt from his betrayal than anything else—because we erroneously believed the Harbinger ran away when we needed him the most.
It was the very reason Lachlan was so opposed to me travelling to the Mirror World to look for him in the first place, which caused the fall between us. Yet, I knew he was secretly Lachlan’s hero… A fact that was true now more than ever after Khayden Skystorm’s reputation was cleared of any wrongdoing, so this gave me hope.
Placing a hand over his heart, Lachlan knelt before the painting, his gaze never leaving his hero’s. A million emotions seemed to course through him, but he remained silent.
I reached for my mate, seeing a certain emotion capture him too while he witnessed the man that he considered a rival show such reverence to his father.
After what seemed like forever, my old friend stood, sending a reluctant glance at Braxton over his shoulder. For a moment, he regarded him, and then returned his attention to the portrait. “You are the Harbinger of Justice’s son…”
It wasn’t a question, more like a dreaded realization given their uncanny resemblance, even if this was the first time Lachlan had ever seen his hero’s face.
“Yes, he was my father,” Braxton answered, nonetheless.
“When I went to the Mirror World to search for the Harbinger, I found his son instead,” I began to explain, hoping to clarify things for him. “But Braxton had no idea our world even existed. He didn’t know who his father was to us. I decided to tell him about us and the Dragons, and I brought him with me because this is his world too.”
“He was the Harbinger’s mission?” Lachlan asked, starting to put the pieces together, but refrained from glancing at us.
“Yes, Evanna’s parents asked mine to take me away if they lost the Great Battle. When Azazel was lost to us, they did.” My mate paused, looking at me as he gauged how much he should divulge. “I have Dragon powers,” Brax continued. “Some of which you have already seen.”
“Your glowing eye?” Lachlan questioned, remembering the meeting at the war room, when Braxton was able to see the path within the mountains through his Dragon Eye.
“Yes.”
“And you can understand them somehow?”
“I can, like you saw the day in the private training grounds when I told them to stand back during our fight.”
Lachlan slowly nodded; his gaze glued to the Harbinger’s face.
“My powers go far deeper than that, and if Raithian ever drained me of my magic, they would allow him to take hold of all Dragons once more. That is why my parents had to leave, taking me away from here to protect me and protect you all.”
“After Braxton came back his powers awoke, and he has been mastering them here, to help us use the Dragons like never before, to help us destroy Raithian,” I explained. “When he first arrived, I couldn’t tell him who his father was to us, and we couldn’t tell anyone who Braxton really was. But now that we discovered the truth and shared proof of Khayden Skystorm’s innocence, we are ready to share it with our people… We thought you deserved to learn the truth before they do, and hopefully, it will help clear this misunderstanding between the two of you.”
Grateful for the way I’d presented the situation, my mate lifted my hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on my knuckles.
