At that moment, she felt a dampness on her lap and looked down. Rayner's eyes were open, brimming with tears that silently spilled down his cheeks. Hearing his identity laid bare, perhaps for the first time in decades, seemed to have stirred something deeply painful within him. Without saying a word, Marcelia resumed her gentle touch, brushing her fingers through his hair, comforting him in silence. She didn't need to ask him why he was crying, she simply wanted him to know that he wasn't alone. As the quiet stretched between them, her fingers wove through his hair in a steady, soothing rhythm, silently offering him a safe place to let his emotions flow.

Zearik brow furrowed as he processed the revelation, his voice tinge with confusion. "Wait are you saying he's a child of Queen Titania and King Oberon? But… the only prince that comes to mind is the one that die over fifty years ago."

Miruna gave a gentle but firm correction, her gaze steady, "Thought to be dead. They couldn't find his body after he ran into one of the devastation zones of the Fae Wilds."

Marcelia felt Rayner tense against her, his breathing quickening as a wave of anxiety visibly washed over him. Without a second thought, she snapped, "Shut up!" Her voice cut through the room like a knife. "Stop talking about him like he isn't right here."

"It's alright," she murmured softly, her hand moving gently through his hair. She leaned down, her voice gentle and filled with unwavering support. "I won't treat you any differently, I promise. You can tell me everything in your own time, when you're ready.

Rayner buried his face in her lap, his body shaking as the anxiety took hold of him. Marcelia continued to stroke his hair, her voice a soothing balm against the storm of his emotions, creating a safe space amidst the chaos.

"Fine, let's change the subject to what's happening with Julius," Miruna said flatly, shifting the focus with an intensity that demanded attention.

Zearik's gaze shifted to the souls of Cedric and Rellia, who seemed to stand a bit straighter, a look of worry clouding their translucent faces. Their expressions mirrored the concern growing in the concern growing in his own heart as Miruna continued.

"The All-Mother confirmed what Papyrus told me," Miruna explained. "Julius is safe, and he will remain so. It's the Magistrate and all those who hurt him that need to worry now- along with anyone who crosses the Ceaith-ysyr." She paused, letting the words settle before adding, "From what I understand, this Ceaith-ysyr was meant to be an Archfae of its kind. Unlike the others of its race, it doesn't need to consume magic constantly, instead it can store it. And it now has access to all the forbidden magic stored in Julius's mind."

The weight of her words landed like a blow, leaving the room in stunned silence- everyone except Marcelia whose focus was still on comforting Rayne.

After a beat, Willow broke the silence, her tone sharp and filled with a pierce satisfaction. "About fucking time the Magistrate got what it deserved! But what exactly is a Ceaith-ysyr."

Miruna looked at each of them, her expression grave. "A Ceaith-ysyr is a unique type of fae. Long ago, they were known for consuming magic much like sustenance. But this one- this Archfae- has a unique ability to store and wield it." She glanced toward Marcelia, who gave her a small nod, silently asking her to continue without further distressing Rayner.

Rayner's voice, shaky yet filled with a simmering anger, cut through the room. "The Magistrate wiped them out," he said, bitterness lacing every word. "Claiming it was a plague that killed them all. In reality, they tried to use the Ceaith-ysyr as a weapon… and failed, horribly." He paused, letting his words sink in. "The devastation left by their extinction still haunts the Fae Wilds to this day."

The loss wasn't just a story from the history books, it was a raw wound, something Rayner himself had felt the lingering echoes of in his homeland as a child.

Marcelia instinctively reached for his hand, grounding him as she continued to gently stroke his hair. Her presence was a quiet reminder that he wasn't alone.

Zearik, his expression hardened, finally spoke up, "So… Julius now carries the burden of this lost race within him, a force that was wiped out because of the Magistrte's greed."

Rayner gave a barely perceptible nod, his gaze distant. "Yes, and I welcome the destruction of the Magistrate, since they were the ones that caused the Songbird Princess, my sister, death," the bitter words slipped from Rayner's mouth before he could stop them. The raw pain in his voice cut through the room like a dagger, each syllable heavy with unspoken grief and resentment.

The sorrow in Rayner's eyes was unmistakable, a reflection of a wound that never healed, only buried under decades of isolation and silence. Another wave of grief seemed to crash over him, and his shoulders trembled as he fought to hold back the emotions threatening to consume him.

Marcelia tightened her grip on his hand, her thumb tracing gentle circles against his skin. Still, she didn't say anything, simply offering him the quiet comfort of her presence.

Even Willow, who had been filled with fiery skepticism moments before, softened, her expression shifted from anger to quiet empathy. Zearik lowered his gaze, the heaviness of Rayner's words sinking in as he realized that the grief they all carried was not theirs alone to bear.

Miruna's voice was soft but steady, cutting through the silence. "The pain of loss is one that binds us, Rayner," she murmured. "All of our hearts are heavy with the pain of loss this gloomy night."

Rayner closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he let her words settle over him like a balm, easing the sharp edges of his grief, if only for a moment.

"Wait," Corvis spoke up, his young voice carrying a wisdom that belied his years. "If the Ceaith-ysyr is mad at the Magistrate, that means its thoughts are all jumbled. It won't think clearly, and… Uncle Julius could still get hurt unintentionally.

The gravity of the young dragon's insight settled heavily over them, casting a shadow of fresh worry. Marcelia's gaze hardened with resolve as she glanced at Rayner, her determination clear.

"Rayner and I will focus on finding them, then," she said earnestly, her voice unwavering. "Maybe we can talk some sense into the Ceaith-ysyr before anything happens to Julius.
Rayner nodded, his own resolve mirroring hers as he met her gaze. Despite the pain and turmoil that still lingered within them both, Marcelia's unwavering spirit fueled a flicker of hope.

Vincent's voice, though gentle, held a note of chastisement as he spoke to his finance. "Miruna, I think you owe Rayner an apology for outing him as a prince. You basically threw a tantrum because Willow wasn't listening to you, but that was no excuse to put Rayner on the sot like that. He obviously isn't fully ready to talk about it." There was a rare sternness in his gaze, a glimpse of his frustration with the Sisterhood of the All-Mother and their tendency to prioritize their own purpose, sometimes overlooking the feelings of those involved.

Corvis's voice piped up before Miruna could respond, his innocent tone easing the tension. "Uncle Vinny, that was probably the only way Mama was going to listen," he said thoughtfully.

Rayner sat up, his attention drawn to the young dragon who spoke with surprising maturity for his apparent age. Corvis's skin was a deep, warm tan, a curious blend that seemed to reflect both Zearik's rich brown tone and Willow's fairer complexion. Somehow his skin adapted perfectly to mirror the unique heritage of his adoptive parents, as if he were a biological blend of the two.

Corvis's face bore an uncanny resemblance to both of them, with Willow's sharp, intense eyes and Zearik's softer, more open expression. But it was the distinctly non-human features that caught Rayner's eye- the small dragon horns jutting from Corvis's head, and patches of shimmering scales that seemed almost rainbow, decorating his skin in intricate patterns. The scales reflected hues of black with prismatic hint that caught the light, a testament to his Prism Dragon lineage. Rayner tilted his head, observing the child with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. How could such a creature exist here, so perfectly attuned to his surroundings yet bearing the unmistakable traits of a dragon" It was clear Corvis wasn't just an ordinary child, and as Rayner studied him, he realized the boy was watching him back, his intense, curious eyes taking in every detail.

Corvis tilted his head, eyes fixed on Rayner as he spoke. "Are you really going to help Auntie Marcelia find Uncle Julius?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with a quiet hope. The childlike innocence in his tone contrasted with the wisdom he held.

Rayner looked down at him feeling an unexpected warmth at the trust this young dragon was placing in him. "Yes, little one," he replied his voice gentle and reassuring. "I'll do everthing I can to help her find him and bring him back safe."

Corvis's face lit up, his prismatic scales seeming to shimmer a little brighter with excitement. "That's good! Cause Auntie Marcelia loves Uncle Julius a whole bunch, and it would make her really happy. And Mama says that when Auntie Marcelia is happy, everyone is happy!"

Rayner chuckled softly, charmed by the child's earnest enthusiasm. Corvis's trust and his innocent belief in Rayner's ability to help Marcelia struck a chord within him.

Corvis's innocent smile concealed a depth of cunning that most would never suspect from a childlike creature with such a gentle heart. Those who knew him well understood that, while he might have the sprit and wonder of a five year old, he possessed a remarkable intellect beneath it all. And he was now wielding it with an almost artful precision, his wide eyes and sweet demeanor skillfully nudging Rayner right where he wanted him.

To Rayner, Corvis's innocent inquiries and hopeful eyes were impossible to resist. Every mention of Aunie Marcelia's happiness tugged at Rayner's heart, reinforcing his commitment to the task at hand. But Corvis had already pieced together that Rayner viewed Marcelia as his Tyngan, his fated one. And Corvis, with the cleverness of someone far older then his apparent age, saw an opportunity.

"Oh, and Auntie Marcelia loves her shinies, too!" Corvis said casually, his little voice ringing with enthusiasm, but with just the faintest hint of calculution in his eyes. "I think she'd love it if you found her the prettiest ones. Ane you're a powerful fae, so I bet you could find the best shinies ever!"

Rayner, unaware of the intricate game of manipulation being played, nodded thoughtfully, a soft smile touching his lips. "I'll see what I can find for her," he replied, charmed and unsuspecting.

Corvis's scales shimmered with delight, his plan unfolding perfectly. He'd already managed to turn this powerful fae into a willing participant in his scheme, simply by knowing which strings to pull. With every passing moments, Rayner became more entwined in Corvis's world, the little dragon skillfully guiding him with just the right blend of innocence and subtle persuasion.

Corvis, of course, wasn't entirely selfish. He genuinely wanted Marcelia and Rayneer to be happy. But that didn't mean he couldn't use a little strategy to ensure a steady supply of shinies, and maybe a devoted new uncle, along the way.

Corvis felt their gazes on him and looked up, his innocent facade slipping just a bit as he noticed the collective expression of Zearik, Willow, and even the souls of Cedric and Rellia. They wore that unmistakable look, the one that every mischievous child dreads- the look of a parent or guardian who has caught them mid-scheme and knows exactly what they're up to.

He tried to maintain his wide-eyed innocence blinking up at them with an exaggerated sweet smile. "What?" he asked, his voice dripping with feigned naivety, "I just want Auntie to be happy!"

Zearik raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Uh-huh," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "And the shinies have nothing to do with it, right, Corvis?"

Corvis looked down, fidgeting with one of his shiny trinkets, trying to appear as innocent as possible. "Well… Auntie does like shinies," he muttered, his tone just shy of a pout. "And… it would make her happy… which would make me happy… so really, it's all for her."

Willow crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a firm line, though her eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and affection. Corvis," she said in the familiar, gentle-but-firm tone, "you know better than to manipulate people for shinies, even if it is for a good cause."

Corvis's cheeks flushed, caught red handed but unwilling to fully back down. He looked back at Rayber, giving a final, hopeful smile. "It's still a good idea, though, right?" he asked, as if seeking validation from his newly wrapped-around-the-finger-uncle-to-be.

Rayner, blissfully unaware of the depth of Corvis's little scheme, chuckled, ruffling the young dragon's hair. "It's a very good idea," he said warmly, and Corvis beamed, his little victory still sweet even under the watchful eyes of his family.