Seraphina leaned forward, completely enraptured. "A lie?"
"A big one," Boris rumbled from the floor. "The founder of your lineage, my lady, is the First Duke, Valerius Nacht, who was not a noble. He was not a knight of the realm. He was a vagabond. A nameless, landless mercenary who slept in the mud and fought for scraps of silver."
Seraphina's eyes widened. "A mercenary? But how did he become a Duke?"
"Because of the Anomalies," Gallahan interjected, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "A thousand years ago, the continent was not ruled by the Emperor. It was ruled by the dark. The entity you saw last night, it was not an isolated monster. It was one of many. Archdemons, Void-walkers, creatures of unfathomable malice that hunted humanity for power. The noble families of the time possessed magic, yes. Arcane fire, holy light. But it was all useless. You cannot burn a shadow, or blind the darkness."
