The interior of Marcus’ home surprised Michael. Roman shields hung from the walls. Swords of various sizes were displayed on racks. In the middle of the room was the normal large cooking cauldron, but this was surrounded by several small pots. It was then that Marcus did something that shocked Michael. He pulled out a long silver stick and placed it over an oil lamp. A spark shot from the stick and the oil caught fire. Edric quickly looked at Michael, whose mouth was agape. Marcus placed one of the pots over the lamp to warm up some pottage from the cold cauldron.
Michael leaned over to his uncle and whispered, “Did you see that?”
Edric acted surprised. “What do you think you saw?”
Michael thought for a moment. Perhaps he had made a mistake. “Nothing, Uncle,” he replied quietly.
Edric circled in front of Michael. “If you see something, trust your eyes, not your mind.” With that he drew his own silver wand and lit another clay lamp.
Michael eyes grew huge and he backed against the door. “How did you to that?!” Michael’s voice cracked under the anxiety that flushed through his system. He had only heard of such magic in stories.
“Do not be alarmed, Michael,” Edric said in a calm but firm voice. “It is not some sort of dark magic you are seeing.”
“What is it then?” asked Michael, feeling the for the door latch behind him.
“This is the power of your ancestors, Michael,” Edric kept his distance, so as not to further frighten his nephew.
Michael thought for a moment. Was his uncle telling him that he was from witches or elves? Why did his mother never tell him about this? “My ancestors…You mean my ancestors were elves or something?”
Edric sat down a stool at the table. Putting his wand back in the pocket of his cloak, he smiled warmly at the trembling young man. “Michael, you are from a great line of those from far away. You are a Nephalite.”
“A Nymphalite?” asked Michael. “You mean I am an elf?” He was horrified at such a suggestion.
Edric rolled his eyes. “Not a Nymphalite, a Nephalite.” He motioned to the stool adjacent his. “Come and sit, my boy.” Michael wanted to unlatch the door and run home, but he instinctively trusted his uncle. Torn, he decided to sit.
You can read more here: Angel Blood: Family Secrets . "Look Inside!"