Yakko couldn't say he was surprised to learn his brother had been keeping something to himself… he'd suspected it all along. He certainly didn't expect it to be something like this, though. And despite himself, he couldn't help feeling hurt. How long would Wakko have been willing to keep quiet about this? Didn't he trust them?

Didn't he trust me?

He quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind, feeling even more guilty than before.

Knock it off! This isn't about you.

The light from the lantern he was holding was just enough to illuminate the small space as he and his siblings stepped inside. Wakko pointed at the desk.

"That's where everything was," he said softly. He lagged behind as Yakko and Dot walked over to it. Setting the lantern down, Yakko scanned the collection of books and papers. Dot climbed up on the chair behind the desk and opened the drawer, lifting out the amulet and holding it up to the light. Yakko moved to get a look too, squinting at the strange symbols. Soft footsteps made him look up to see Wakko approaching slowly. Looking hesitant, he reached out with his right hand. As soon as he touched the amulet, the same symbol shone on his hand.

"I don't know what it means," he said in the same quiet voice.

Yakko exchanged a glance with Dot and saw the same confusion on her face, along with considerable unease. After a moment, his sister picked up one of the larger books and began slowly flipping through it. Yakko scanned the papers on the desk, until one caught his eye. The same symbol was drawn on it, with some writing in the upper right corner. Picking it up, he blew the dust off and his eyes widened. Wakko moved up beside him, trying to get a look at it.

"What's that?"

"I don't know, but look," Yakko said, turning it toward his brother and pointing at the corner. "That's Mom's writing."

Wakko's eyes widened too, moving back and forth as he read.

"'Symbols appeared at birth… magic source…'" His eyes grew even wider, and his voice quivered a little. "'Wakko's source.'"

Yakko's eyes grew just as wide as he scanned the words himself.

"They did know."

Dot spoke up then, setting the book on the desk.

"This talks about that symbol."

Yakko and Wakko moved over to the desk, leaning in to look themselves. Their sister pointed at a page. Yakko frowned as his eyes moved over the page, reading the words out loud.

"'Each symbol represents the spirits of the four elements: water, earth, fire and air. Anyone who is born with the Gift carries it, along with the ability to master all four.'"

His voice trailed off in disbelief, and Dot sounded just as stunned when she spoke.

"So, the spirits are real?"

Yakko had heard stories about the elemental spirits too, mainly from their parents as a child, but he always thought they were just that: stories. Magic was so rare… he never would have imagined someone in his family might have it.

A soft exhale made him stop to look at Wakko. The middle sibling was staring at the ground, lifting a hand to his head. His face was blank with shock.

"So… I can do that?" He looked at both his siblings. "But… they never told me."

Yakko reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"They didn't tell me either."

Along with his confusion, he couldn't help but feel a little angry with their parents. How could they keep something like this from them, especially from Wakko?

But he tried to think logically about it; Wakko had been so little and might not have understood even if they did tell him. Still, he couldn't stop wondering… would they have ever told them, if they were still here? There was just no way to know.

Dot, meanwhile, had started looking through the other papers on the desk. A frown creased her face as she picked up several. As she slowly shuffled through them, her eyes widened.

"Sis?" Yakko asked, walking over to her. "What're those?"

Dot bit her lip.

"They're letters… from Salazar," she said hesitantly, glancing at Wakko. Seeing the concern in her eyes, Yakko took the papers and scanned them himself. As he read, first a sense of shock, then a sick feeling rose in him. The first few letters were somewhat courteous, making seemingly casual inquiries about rumors of a Gifted child of the Warnerstock royal family. But the letters grew less and less polite, and the last few were little more than outright threats. Wakko's quiet, uneasy voice broke the tense silence.

"W-what? What do they say?"

Yakko looked at Dot, who looked just as conflicted as he felt. He had promised he would never lie to his siblings, but this made him seriously consider breaking his promise. It would kill Wakko to know the truth. But he would also probably suspect he was being lied to, and since he had already told them the truth he would certainly want to be shown the same respect. Finally, Yakko let out a quiet sigh and hoped he wasn't about to make a terrible mistake.

"He's asking Mom and Dad if there's really someone with the Gift in our family."

Wakko's eyes widened again, a look of foreboding already on his face. Yakko took a deep breath and forced himself to continue.

"Then he… he starts threatening them."

He could see his brother's look slowly change, as he connected the dots, from fear to utter devastation. He began backing away, hugging himself.

"No… no, no, no…"

Yakko took a step toward him, intending to try and comfort him. But before he could say anything Wakko let out a strangled cry and whirled around, running from the room.

"Wakko!"

Yakko immediately dropped the letters and raced after his brother, hearing Dot jump down from the chair and follow. Outside, Wakko was on the sofa, knees drawn up and his head buried in his arms as his shoulders shook. Yakko's throat tightened when he heard the middle sibling's quiet sobs. Swallowing hard, he walked over and sat down beside him, placing a hand on his back.

"Hey," he said gently. His brother tensed, then curled up tighter.

"It was all my fault," he croaked. "He invaded because he was looking for me."

Yakko glanced at Dot, who sat down on Wakko's other side with a grieved expression and wrapped her arms around him.

"It wasn't your fault," she said, unable to keep her voice from quivering. Yakko looked back at Wakko and rubbed his back.

"She's right, Wak. You're not responsible for his choice."

The middle sibling sniffled, and his voice was bitter when he spoke.

"No… just for Mum and Dad and every other awful thing he did to everyone here. He never would've come if I wasn't…"

"Stop," Yakko said in a firm voice. At that, Wakko finally lifted his head, looking at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"You don't know he never would've come," the eldest Warner said. "You know what he's like… he probably would've eventually invaded even if you weren't Gifted."

He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Either way, it was out of your control."

"Yeah," Dot said, her voice gentle and no longer quivering. "If it was me or Yakko, you wouldn't blame us, right?"

Wakko immediately shook his head, and she smiled.

"Well, there ya go. If you wouldn't blame us, why blame yourself?"

Her immediate older brother shifted in his seat, looking down.

"I know you feel guilty," Dot went on. "I know you want to blame yourself… it's what you do. But we don't. We don't blame you for any of it, and we never will. If you had the chance, you'd have stopped it all. And that's all that matters."

Yakko grinned.

"Wow, Dot. Sometimes you do know what to say."

His sister gave him an indignant look.

"What do you mean, sometimes? I just can't always get a word in with you yakking all the time."

That finally got a weak chuckle out of their brother.

"She's right, y' know," he said hoarsely.

Yakko chuckled too and gave his back a gentle pat.

"There ya go. But she is right… you don't have to feel bad, because it's not your fault."

Wakko sniffled again, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"But… I…"

"No buts," Yakko said. "It's not."

Both him and Dot wrapped the middle sibling in a hug, and after a moment he nestled into it. Yakko smiled, but still felt a profound sadness. He couldn't imagine how his brother must be feeling, and he could only hope that the hurt didn't go so deep that it couldn't be healed. Otherwise, he didn't know if he would ever forgive himself.