Of Stew and Other Mysteries, Part 2

“WHAT ARE YOU GUYS doing out here? Come on in.”

After killing some time out in the cold, sharing a pipe and idle banter, the trio of men were finally met by a disgruntled Milla who beckoned them inside. For some reason she seemed to disapprove of them hiding from her, even though she was the one who drove them outside in the first place.

“Don’t mind if we do, missy. Is that alright with you, Master Jund?” Gromni was eager to scurry into the warmth of the pub, but as a well-mannered dwarf, he didn’t forget to ask the rightful owner for permission.

“By all means! You’re most welcome,” Jund gave a slight bow and motioned them in. They’d already gotten acquainted during their unfortunate time-out, but courtesy was courtesy.

“Thank you, Master Jund, Lady Milla. We shall impose on your hospitality.” Galardos followed suit and entered the pub after Gromni. Inside, he was met with the pleasant aroma of a freshly prepared dinner.

For the life of him, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper home-cooked meal. Had it been centuries? As a noble, his diet consisted either of lavish meals prepared by a professional cook, or simple rations while on the move with the military. After his exile, he’d been reduced mostly to the latter.

“Please take a seat here by the fire. It’s a humble dinner, but I hope it’ll be to your liking,” Milla showed the men to the warmest table in the establishment, a premiere spot in a cold winter night. There they were met with a steaming, generous serving of stew accompanied with cold beer and a side of cheese and peanuts. Milla had clearly pulled out all the stops, preparing a small feast for them despite being winter.

“My word, we are unworthy. I can smell the malt from here! Top quality beer ye have. And the stew, also! It looks divine,” Gromni didn’t miss a beat to sing his praise, which came genuinely from the heart. Despite it being said that hunger was the best spice, Milla had indeed outdone herself… partly out of pride, and partly out of a desire to make up for past errors.

“I must agree. We are most grateful, Lady Milla. Thank you,” Galardos humbly bowed his head, making Milla flinch in panic. She’d been overly conscious about him for the past hour, considering their previous incidents, and now she was growing nervous seeing the man face to face again.

“P-Please, go ahead and dig in! I’ve already served snacks and drinks, but if there’s anything else you need, just say the word!”

Her years of waiting tables kicked in, and she instinctively slipped into server mode, treating the two men like patrons. But before she could turn away, Galardos glanced over the table and made a quiet observation.

“We seem to be missing a bowl,” he said. “Won’t you be joining us?”

It was an earnest question; there were only three servings laid out. Milla blinked. She wasn’t used to eating with customers, but... these men weren’t customers at all. They were guests in her home, whom she had invited.

She nearly smacked her forehead at the realization.

“If we’re short on stew, we’ll split it,” Gromni chimed in. “By all means, join us, missy! Won’t be much of a meal without ye.”

Milla nodded, flustered. “I’ll be right back.”

Fortunately, she had cooked plenty enough for second helpings, so it didn’t take long for her to fetch an extra bowl and return to the table.

The four of them ate together, indulging in Milla’s hearty stew and Jund’s finest brew. Most of the ingredients were humble and locally sourced, but the meal turned out better than Milla had hoped.

Whether it was the spices or the fine company, she couldn’t quite say.

And as for Galardos, well…

He’d been quietly reminded of simpler times long gone.

--------------------------------------------------

“I’M TELLING YA missy, don’t sweat it! That sorta thing happens to us all the time!” The dwarf waved off her concerns, as the topic turned to the matter of the peeping incident.

“Gromni, don’t say such misleading things,” Galardos objected in proud indignation. “You’re making it sound like we’re nudists.”

“Hah! Are we not?” the dwarf barked with laughter. “This ain’t the first time we’ve been caught like that, and ye know it!”

Whether it was the ale talking or just Gromni’s way of breaking tension, he aired the dirty laundry right in front of Milla, to her immense embarrassment.

Galardos wasn’t pleased.

“This and that are different matters. We were covered in monster blood, remember? The cyclops exploded all over us,” the demigod tried to defend himself, but Gromni was having none of it.

“Oh, don’t ye try to blame the Missy here. I told ye not to float that stupid corpse all the way back with us, and it was ye who didn’t listen,” Gromni pointed an accusing finger at him, leaving no room to argue.

“I’m not challenging that. I admit I was at fault, but we couldn’t just walk in here reeking of death, could we?”

“I know that, Galardos, but there’s a time and a place! A time and a place! I swear, it’s the same story with ye, over and over again. One day we’re out adventuring, killing monsters like usual. We get covered in guts like we always do, and the next thing we know, there’s some lass pointing at yer prick!”

It was a killing blow.

Galardos quietly boiled in shame, burying his face into the palm of his hand. As for Milla and Jund, they were aghast, for they witnessed in horror as the demigod’s pride was slaughtered before their very eyes.

“See, Missy? That’s the kind of fool this guy is. Heck, we both are! We’re just another pair of idiots trying to make our place in this harsh world. I mean, sure, we’ve got a lot more magic than yer average Joe. Him in particular, he’s a big shot. But at the end of the day, we’re only two more fish in a big pond, so don’t let our petty incidents get to ye. Ye know what I mean?”

It was definitely the alcohol — Gromni was getting philosophical. Nevertheless, Milla appreciated the gesture. Any tension or nervousness she had felt toward the adventurers had long since faded, replaced by a sense of amusement and camaraderie. She could tell these two were good friends, and if fate would have it, she might end up joining them in their travels.

“Thank you, Master Gromni. I’ll keep it in mind!” That said, Milla wasn’t sure how to face Galardos after such a verbal beatdown from his friend.

The demigod, however, wasn’t one to stay down for long.

“Do you have a cellar we can throw Gromni in? He can drink himself to sleep there, while we adults have a proper discussion.”

With dinner finished and the ice thoroughly broken, it was the perfect time to address the reason they came to Milla’s home in the first place: her status as a rogue demigod.

Food and laughter made for a cozy distraction, but the truth hadn’t changed.

Just a few hours ago, Milla had unleashed a spell so powerful that the Imperial authorities were certain to have noticed.

And Imperial law was clear: all naturally gifted spellcasters, especially demigods, were to be surrendered to one of the Great Houses. It was a law that Jund and his daughter had quietly defied for decades. But just how serious was this offense in practice? That, only Galardos could answer.

“Fine, I’ll behave myself,” said Gromni, adjusting his tone and posture. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Milla swallowed hard, then steadied her breath. She needed to know the truth, however harsh it might be.

“I’m ready, Lord Galardos. Please be frank. How much trouble are we in?”

And so began the moment of reckoning.

Galardos didn’t mince words.

“It’s bad. Just how bad, however, I can’t say. There are too many variables in motion, and chief among them is who will get here first: Lord Aurelius, the rightful ruler of these lands… or Lady Isabella, leader of the Imperial Inquisition.”

The name sent shivers down Milla’s spine. Even in a remote corner of the Empire such as Sonis, not a soul was ignorant about the Inquisition and its ruthless master.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask,” Jund began. “How likely is it that the Inquisition will actually show up? I thought they dealt with devils and demons, but there are none of those here. Wouldn’t something like this be handled by Lord Aurelius instead?”

It was a fair question, though it betrayed a few misunderstandings. Not that Jund could be blamed for it, of course. No one in Sonis was expected to understand the labyrinth of Imperial politics, let alone the inner workings of its secret police.

“They’ll come,” Galardos said flatly. “The Inquisition also handles magical anomalies, and the spell Milla used caused a major disruption in the leyline system. It’s severe enough to warrant an investigation; Isabella won’t miss it.”

So much for hoping otherwise.

Milla and Jund exchanged a nervous glance, the weight of their actions sinking in.

“So… that means they’ll be mad with me about the spell I cast, on top of the time I stayed hidden from them?” Milla asked, growing anxious.

Galardos nodded, his expression grave.

“You’ll face a handful of charges, but I suspect they’ll be lenient with you. There will be a power struggle between Aurelius and Isabella over who gets to claim you, but for both of them, the end goal will likely be to recruit you. To do that, Jund will be captured and held hostage as a bargaining chip, but I doubt they’ll kill him.”

All things considered, it wasn’t the worst outcome. The idea of being drafted into the Inquisition or one of the Great Houses hardly thrilled Milla, but it was a better fate than hanging from her neck.

But just as her expression began to ease, Galardos cut in with a warning.

“That is, as long as your lineage is adequate,” His eyes shifted toward her father. “Master Jund, I take it that Milla is your adoptive daughter? She must’ve been left in your care, so can you tell me by whom and under what circumstances?”

Milla gulped. Galardos had struck a delicate chord.

To this day, her origins remained a complete mystery. It was something she’d long made peace with, but now that same enigma had come to shape her fate, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She turned to her father, worry etched across her face. Jund met eyes with her and gave a quiet, reassuring nod. Whatever may come ahead, things would surely be alright, he thought.

After a moment to collect himself, he spoke.

“Milla was entrusted to me, I believe… by Lady Zarielle.”

And so began the telling of Milla’s origins, as her adoptive father knew them.