As they walked back to the apartment building from the bus stop, Sean felt like he was walking on wet ice. Everything he knew about his life was slipping out from under him. The man who had given him his swordbelt had also given him a blue stone. There were six of them and they were supposed to be of some use - some magical use. The man and woman he had known all of his life as mom and dad, were not. Air for his lungs seemed difficult to come by. He was a king - somewhere ‘not in this world’. “What is my name?” he asked, his voice sounded hollow in his ears. He had been Moselle all of his life, but if Elias wasn’t his father, who was he?
“Your name is Seanad Éireann Barleduc-Ruhin, and as soon as you can wrest your crown from your Uncle Ludwyn, you will be king and rightfully so,” said Gordon in a strange voice. “Nearly all of your protectors are now dead, and though the circumstances might be seen as pure dumb luck, we must assume that you are no longer safe here. You must learn everything about what you are and who you are, then we must find a way to take you back.”
Questions refused to organize themselves into coherent words; the questions about his family, the stones, questions about - questions about everything, flung themselves through Sean’s head like a tidal wave, or perhaps a frag-grenade.