Leading up to the concert, she spent time selecting and arranging the music, working full days instead of the usual half days. At the end of each workday, family and home chores kept her from checking in.

With the concert concluded and the weekend nigh, Saehressa at last found time to sit down to catch up with her messages from two worlds. Scrolling through the Arrhazonan email first, there were a few from llhaesa, a few from Hrilleae, while the rest were miscellaneous writings from various friends and extended family.

One email caught her attention only after she read the mail from llhaesa, an email she anticipated for a long time but had forgotten over the hectic pace of the last week. Saehressa anxiously opened the message, which only provided a link to an Athenaeum site address. The respondent created the new and secure site specifically for Saehressa and all of whom she wished to share the information.

Somewhat excited, Saehressa followed the link to the site, a comprehensive creation that included at its core two hundred and four pages of research data. A summary section existed, and from what Saehressa could see, it made up the first three pages.

Scrolling down through the summary, Saehressa stopped, her eyes frozen upon the paragraph:

A direct line of descent runs from Addison Lorrie-T’yaeli back to L’juriloe Jsequelha (b. 194.4408 – d.319.4514), who began the process of Arrhazonan unification by renouncing her title as queen of Tesyael, which today is essentially the eastern half of the continent of Jhessia, the area centred on Arrhazon City.

Arrhazonans were familiar with L’juriloe; most scholars considered her the first real feminist, one who achieved great advances towards social justice, some of which were unfortunately lost during the upheavals of the second great plague two hundred years later.

That was besides her more achievement in beginning the process for world unification, a process finally finished two hundred years after her death, but would not have been possible without her great initial effort.

What held Saehressa transfixed were the combination of historical personage, date of birth, and image, an image held as reputable, drawn by a prominent artist of that time.

The date of birth was exactly 1,000 years before llhaesa, to the year. Adding to her interest, the artist’s rendition looked strikingly like an image of Saehressa, llhaesa, and Addison, all of whom bore strong resemblance to one another.

Perusing the document with increased fervour and apprehension, Saehressa traced the connection, and found more than one line connected Addison to L’juriloe. The ties were strong.

Saehressa knew this information was no longer a whimsical satiating of her curiosity, or something to mention in passing in idle conversation. Increasingly worried, she read onward.

Four months before, Saehressa and Anita dined together in a Boston restaurant, and conversation turned to their respective family ancestry.

Anita shared how her family traced ancestry to several people falsely accused of witchcraft in Salem Massachusetts in 1692. Two of these ancestors were also ancestors of President Ellenwood. The Court of Oyer and Terminer rendered a death sentence to one of their common ancestors, Susannah North Martin. Susannah lost her life to hanging, the sentence carried out on 19 July 1692.

Anita’s story intrigued Saehressa, who knew of family history only through her great-grandparents, nothing beyond. Upon arrival at home that night, she searched out and hired a reputable organisation on Arrhazon to trace their family tree. The astounding results were now in front of her.

Reading onward, according to the summary, the Jsequelha dynasty, although no longer the head of government with the monarchy renounced by L’juriloe, nonetheless still carried significance to this day due to the continued legend, their achievements of that long ago time in achieving world unity, in the arts, and in philanthropy. The Jsequelha family was quite visible in Arrhazonan museums.

The text explained that no one carried the surname of Jsequelha any longer. In the Retribution three hundred years before, where a Brellian-like character seized power and controlled the government for two decades, the family was in danger of assassination due to its continued ability to rally the people, and hid out in part by changing their name.

Saehressa never knew of this name-changing fact, and found it fascinating historical information.

Pausing, she headed for the kitchen and set water on to boil, waiting patiently for the telltale whistle of the kettle. After fixing her tea, one with a hint of orange that she especially fancied, Saehressa returned to her reading now accompanied by the steaming mug, which she set just to the left side of the interface. Resuming her skimming through of the document, she stopped upon seeing the name ‘Jselhiae’. This was her birth surname.

The name chosen by the Jsequelha family as its new name was in fact Jselhiae. This was another surprise for Saehressa, as her mum and grandmother assumed their roots traced to the Jredvarha area of the southern hemisphere, as the name seemed to indicate.

The report went on to explain that when the threat was over, the family, now established under the new surname, decided to retain its usage, hoping to avoid any further issues at the hands of those who felt adversely threatened with the Jsequelha name, its illustrious and colourful history, and their presence.

Most people assumed the family died out, or at least so Saehressa assumed, but in front of her was proof it had not. Of more significance was the scary truth that she, llhaesa, and her children, were direct descendants.

Reaching the end of what she now saw was but the first summary of the report, the author, who worked under a legally binding confidentiality agreement, cautioned that eventually someone would discover this information and publicise it.

The author concluded the first summary by saying there was little doubt that someone would play up the implications of the connection between llhaesa and L’juriloe, given their likeness, their similar outlook on equality and politics, their achievements, and their like standing in Arrhazonan society and history.

Continuing into the second summary, Saehressa scrolled into a new round of surprise, her mind realising and analysing the confluence of ancestry that was her family, or more accurately, her daughters’ family. This was not just satiating trivia; the information carried some potential to influence one world, perhaps two.

Saehressa leaned back after finishing, letting out a deep breath that fluttered a few wisps of hair as it blew upward. Now tense from worry, she rocked her chair as she continued to ponder the revelation, occasionally sipping upon her tea, and finally deciding she needed to speak with her daughter.

This report was so much more than the simple satiating of curiosity, something meant to share when chatting whilst sitting around a coffee table, and she needed to warn her daughters.

Leaving her seat, Saehressa determinedly returned to the kitchen, where Casey now attentively sat at their table working on his homework, upbeat in the knowledge this was the last day in the school year for assigned work.

First giving Casey’s shoulders a loving squeeze with her hands, Saehressa grabbed her bag, reaching in to fish out her mobile. Taking her mobile in hand, she walked back to the living room, working the keypad as she walked.

First accessing the connection to the network system that allowed for communication with Arrhazon, she hurriedly dialled llhaesa.

“Hey mum!” llhaesa’s bubbly voice rang out seconds later. “I was just thinking about you! How did the recital go last night?”

Saehressa laughed; llhaesa always managed to trigger that response in her. She could not help but think what a joy it was having llhaesa back in her life.

“It went very well, ‘essa. Many of the parents went out of their way to commend me on the work I had done with their children. It is always nice to get such feedback, but the kids did all the work, I just guided them.

‘I called to share something with you – um, besides wishing to say hello, stories about the recital, telling you how much I love you, and all that stuff.”

“I know you love me mum, and you know I love you with all my heart, so perhaps we can set that part aside for now and get down to what has you all excited.”

“How do you know I am excited?”

“I can hear the excitement – actually, no, that isn’t quite right, it is excitement mixed with concern, and you wish to know what my thoughts are about whatever the subject is, right?”

“Um, mothers are supposed to analyse their daughters, not vice versa, my astute child.

That said I have a surprise for you. I do not know if you will like this surprise, I am not at all certain I like the surprise, but, you are affected one way or another and it is important, actually, it is vital, for you to know.”

“That sounds serious. Why is it you think I might regret hearing this? Is my wife aware of whatever it is you undertake to share with me?”

Saehressa let out an exclamation of regret. “How thoughtless it was for me to forget to include Jahrae in this discussion! She needs to hear this news right along with you, needs to hear it as much as you do, ‘essa. Please hang on for one moment.”

“Mum! Mum?” llhaesa gave up, suspecting what her mother was up to, and sure enough, another voice came on the line. “Hello?”

“Hello, Jahrae, this is Saehressa. Llhaesa is also on the line with me.”

“Hi mum, hi ‘essa! What’s going on?”

“Hi J’har; mum has news she wishes to share with us, although initially I was somewhat suspicious that this is a ploy to tease me, but I do not think that now.”

“Good call, llhaesa,” her mother agreed, continuing, “I have something serious to share with you both, not to tease you about. There is time for doing that, later.”

Llhaesa realised then that something worried her mum, something she just learned. At first she thought this was at least partially an attempt to have fun with her, but she sensed now that what she was about to hear might be troubling. “My apologies, Mother, I initially thought you wished to joke some with me. Please share what upsets you.”

“Several months back, Anita and I were chatting about her family history. You will recall Ronnie and the girls are descendants of Susannah North Martin, who the good leaders of Salem Massachusetts in 1692 sentenced and hung, accused of witchcraft.

I decided it would be interesting to explore our family history as well, and so I commissioned an organisation to do just that.”

“Did you find out that Brellian is my uncle?” llhaesa joked.

“Llhaesa, you goof! This sounds like it is interesting; you can joke after mum shares the information!” Jahrae tried to get llhaesa to hold back on humour.

“All right, I will behave. You have to cut me some slack, what with being here and family-deprived and all. And um, mum, with you on the phone, I do not have my usual means of coping with my separation from J’har available to me.”

“Did you just say that, ‘essa?” Jahrae teased.

“I did not hear that,” Saehressa laughed, in reality not at all bothered by the candid humour. Ready to begin the explanation, she jumped back into the topic. “All right, I will keep this simple. This is what I found, to the point:

Llhaesa, you are a direct descendant of L’juriloe Jsequelha; you were born exactly 1,000 years to the year after her. The connection runs through three separate lines before they reconnect at my grandparent’s generation.”

Jahrae whistled, immediately recognising the significance of the ancestral connection, although she did not know the details of how the trail connected them. “How much do you know about the connection, mum?”

Saehressa went on to share the information she had read in the first summary with her daughters, with llhaesa remaining curiously silent throughout her explanation.

“When this information surfaces, and I am surprised it has not as yet, it will be a major story on Arrhazon,” Jahrae observed. “The Jsequelha family, long thought extant, exists still.

By coincidence, Arrhazon’s foremost and beloved citizen, her mother, and her daughters, represent the strongest manifestation of the family – and its historical dynastic element – in current living generations.

When this gets out, and I am serious here, ‘essa, your legend will take on a new dimension. There will be countless works written and produced that play on this genealogical connection.”

“Terrific,” was llhaesa’s simple and terse summation of how she felt, finally choosing to speak. “I do not care about the connection in terms of me, but I surely do care about it as it relates to our children. This…is a hell of a burden for anyone to carry, much less children.

It is a very good thing they are half-Arrkarharan and spent their lives to date there. Addison and Sérada know not the history, nor did they grow up playing games pretending to be L’juriloe as she bravely renounced her title and led her people to a new and better way of governance. How many times did I do that as a child, I wonder?”

“’Essa, I too used to pretend to be L’juriloe,” Jahrae confirmed.

Llhaesa tried to think this through, but decided she wished to hear how her mum and Jahrae felt about the subject first. “How does each of you believe we should handle this going forward?”

“Llhaesa, I am glad you see the seriousness and attempt to think it all through, but…you don’t have all the information yet, there is more I must share.”

Llhaesa felt a shiver in her back, simultaneously with a sinking feeling in her stomach. “What else could there be that tops that story, mum?”

“First, and for perspective, there are other descendants of the family as well. Most of the trail results in rather blurred lines through history, but a few, such as with our family, are clear.

And then there is also Aolaera T’rlassi.”

“Goddess of Arrhazon, not her in our ancestral tree as well!” llhaesa exclaimed. “First we learn L’juriloe is in our ancestral family and now Aolaera as well. Jahrae, I need to go crawl under a rock. You can explain to others that I do this because of the goofy assumptions people will make over my being a descendant of the two foremost women in Arrhazonan history.”

“’Essa,” Saehressa moved to correct her daughter. “Please hold off before you head for that rock. Your assumption is not quite correct.”

“What else am I missing?”

“Jahrae is a direct descendant from Aolaera, not us.”

“Whoa!” Jahrae exclaimed, now feeling as if the unfolding connections were less coincidence than some intangible working of the universe. “There are way too many fated connections here, and now I too am feeling a little spooked, to be honest.”

Llhaesa felt a smidgeon better; she liked this element of the genealogical connection, one where the history fell equally on both she and her partner. “Jahrae, that statue in the park you used to regularly claim was a public disgrace – uncared for, deteriorating, and in urgent need of repair? I notice it is now in perfect shape, and suspect you had something to do with this.”

“I did, ‘essa and that is part of what spooks me, how I felt so drawn to that statue of Aolaera, and did from the first moment I saw it.”

“Just to make certain we are all on the same page here, the two of you, by virtue of your marriage, unite the two major dynastic families of our world’s history.

Like it or not, and even though both of you are already held in such high esteem by this world, it will change how the world views you in some subtle way.

You must take great care in your political advocacy and your political involvement, and hold tight to your belief and vision for our future. This is vital, as anything the two of you might do will be magnified, scrutinised and analysed endlessly, not to mention played up in films and novels.

People will follow you wherever you wish to take our world, believing in you, in your dreams, your vision. That is true to a large extent now, but this reinforces the ties exponentially, with a romantic, historical element now present. I am so very glad you both established yourselves before release of this information.

Although it is unproven, there is legend that the roots of each dynasty are actually in the time of the alleged Dichotomy, where the people of Arrkarhara and Arrhazon diverged, this accomplished by the hidden manipulation of the Ancients. This is yet another thing for you to contend with…the legends.

You can no longer remain in the background and claim only musicianship, llhaesa, people will endlessly speculate on how your ancestry and Jahrae’s ancestry connect our worlds across not only space, but also time.

Truth will not matter in terms of how the public views you; the romanticism of the legends involved will take firm hold, mainly on the strength of what you both achieved and for which you advocate. Your accomplishments and outlook gives a solid reference and base on which to build legend. You must take great care in how you treat and address that legend, in conduct, in words.

You well know your words and deeds already are a big factor, and I believe you know that now, or rather if this information becomes public, they would be a bigger factor.

It is important you remember that this adds complications. Once the story is well known, it could have significant bearing on the success or failure of taking these worlds into a peaceful, united future.

Many will see great symbolism in this. Both of you spotted that element immediately upon hearing the connection. It will not take long for others to associate the connection, the coming together of the descendants as one prominent and leading family, ready to unite the two worlds.

Like this or not, my dear daughters, but the two worlds and their collective future are in your talented and caring hands. Lead well.”

“My stomach just left the building,” llhaesa remarked, only half kidding. “Addison, Serry, and Ahrella… Goddess of Arrhazon, how do we secure their lives, give them room to breathe, let them be children and adolescents, let them live, without being under some constantly observing microscope, viewed as something more than they are?

They are children, like the children of any other family. They are not royalty. They do not wish anyone hand them an unearned future. They wish to make and shape their own futures, doing what interests them as a life vocation. I will devote my life to seeing to it they are not encumbered by familial history.

To be honest, I hope the story never comes out, or if it does, the people are smart enough to see it as we do, as interesting for a few minutes, and nothing more.”

“I hope you get your wish, llhaesa, but in all honesty, both of you need to be prepared for when the story comes out. Do not let it catch you unprepared, and of course you two know you have the remainder of family and your friends standing beside, and in support of, you.”

“Llhaesa,” Jahrae took things on a different path, trying to assuage her partner. “This need not be a negative development, or something that is a burden to us, to our lives.

We can play up the fact that we have thousands of ancestors from the time in which they each lived. They are but two out of those thousands. Logic is on our side.

Both are positive historical figures, their achievements, their goals, inspire children and adults alike. The positives of each remain a positive today. They inspired us, and that is the extent of the connection.”

“I hear you, J’har,” llhaesa replied, “and I get that part, I think. I just do not wish people to make me into something I am not. Please let me be me, let you be you, let our children be themselves. We all contribute significantly to society without need of hyperbolic reshaping.”

“I agree, ‘essa. Mum, have you thought about asking the researchers that produced this information to destroy their records and take down that site? Even if it is secure, we might all feel better if it no longer existed outside this family.”

“I wish I could, Jahrae, but our contract specifies they will maintain the record as confidential information for twenty-five years. Thereafter, it enters the public domain.”

“Damn,” llhaesa blurted out. “How big is this firm? Perhaps we can reach monetary accommodation and buy out that particular clause?”

Jahrae stepped in with an answer, now suspecting she knew of the organisation. “If this is who I suspect, it is a not for profit organisation, and their fees go toward preserving our Arrhazonan heritage.

Given this is likely the most precious and richly significant history they have uncovered to date, they will not destroy this information, for the greater good. If you think on it from their perspective, indeed from the perspective of all on Arrhazon, it makes sense.

Our foundation helped establish the organisation, and we provide some annual funding, ‘essa. We cannot interfere with their operations, even by paying for the destruction of the information.”

“You are correct, Jahrae,” Saehressa interjected.

“I agree, given their nature and purpose we could not take that approach,” llhaesa affirmed. “Very well, we live with knowledge that this information exists, and I guess, take comfort that it is only we and their researchers who know.”

“How well do either of you know mythological history?” Saehressa wondered, about to take things in yet another direction.

“I studied it some, enough to know the gods and goddesses and how the mythology influenced various cultures,” llhaesa offered.

“Jahrae?” Saehressa waited for her to reply, strongly suspecting a different answer.

After three seconds of silence, Jahrae began to answer. “I know what you are getting at, mum, and um, we are so not sharing that element with llhaesa!” Jahrae knew Saehressa would share this part of the story, but it was time to lighten things up.

“Share what with me?” llhaesa wondered aloud, her innocent query prompting laughter from Jahrae.

“J’har, llhaesa needs to know all of the connections in play here, much as I understand and sympathise with your plight. Would you care to give the explanation?”

“Oh, I am going to regret sharing this! Very well, then, I will share.

Llhaesa, most scholars believe the goddess of light in mythology has Aolaera as its actual source, that writers of the time created this extension of mythology, this new goddess, their imaginations triggered by observing or remembering Aolaera. It was a way for them to express the high esteem in which the people held her. It made for great story telling.

Remember, hers was a much earlier family dynasty on this world.”

“In other words, my dear llhaesa, your wife might well be descended from the actual goddess of light, though of course, she had no special powers as in the myths fabricated thereafter, and like you, was all too human.”

Wild laughter rang out from llhaesa, finally finding humour in the news of the day. “Excellent, absolutely excellent,” was all she would say.

On one of the other two connections, Jahrae audibly groaned.