The Lady's Gift, Part 1

“I’LL PREFACE THIS by telling you, the story itself is short. Not because I’m unwilling to tell you, but because I don’t know the details myself,” Jund opened up.

The weight in his voice left no room for doubt. Even though he was the person in the room who knew the most about Milla’s past, he was also the most desperate for answers.

“That’s fine. What you do know will have to suffice,” Galardos assured him.

With the demigod’s blessing, Jund began the retelling of that fateful night.

“It was twenty years ago, around this time of the year. My late wife, Linda, she…” Jund paused briefly, his voice choking up. “She died during labor. Neither she nor my newborn daughter, Marie, made it through the night.”

Milla placed her hand atop Jund’s, trying to comfort him. She knew that, even after all this time, the wounds of that night hadn’t truly healed for him.

“It’s a common thing, I’m afraid,” Jund lamented. “Here in the woods there’s no cleric to call, no apothecary to run to. Everything looked fine during her pregnancy, until the day our baby was due. She started bleeding, and well… You know what happened.”

The look in Galardos and Gromni’s faces was solemn. To Galardos, in particular, it stung him to know that despite the Empire’s advances in healing magic, there were still so many people left to fend on their own. Even after a millennium of rule, the Imperial Demigods still had their failings.

“After the funeral,” Jund continued, “I… I was broken. We burned their bodies properly with what firewood we had left, and then... instead of returning to my empty house, I went off into the forest. Alone.”

It was the darkest moment in Jund’s life.

“At the time, I truly wanted to die — to be taken to my wife’s side where I could see her and my daughter again... But I didn’t want to leave a mess for my neighbors to clean; we’d burned enough wood for my family already. So, I had the forest take me.”

Milla squeezed his hand in disbelief. This part of the story, she didn’t know.

“Dad! Did you really…?”

“It’s okay, dear. This was a long time ago, and… It was then that I met you.”

The smile on his face was sincere. On that fateful day, in the midst of his terrible loss, crossing paths with Milla had truly saved him.

Galardos, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes as he analyzed the possibilities. He could roughly imagine what happened next, and given the circumstantial evidence, the explanation he could muster was utterly dreadful.

“After I entered the woods, I kept walking until I found an adequate clearing. I could feel it at the time, that spot would make for a good grave,” Jund recalled with a nostalgic expression. “Then I dropped on my knees and prayed. Oh, Zarielle most merciful, I beg you, give my family to me. And if that isn’t your will, then please, take me to them.

“It was the most heartfelt prayer I’ve ever made. And I know it’s hard to believe, but… the Lady answered me. After I called to her, a golden pillar of light shot down from the heavens. It was so bright that it blinded me for a moment, and then when I opened my eyes, there was a newborn child in front of me. Wrapped in nothing but a simple white cloth, Milla was delivered to me by the Goddess.”

His story was outlandish. A textbook example of a miracle; the kind of divine intervention told about in sermons about the legends of old. But no matter how implausible the story was, Galardos needed no magic to know: Jund had told no lies.

A heavy silence descended upon the group. If Jund’s account was to be believed, then the first assumption would be to think of Milla as the Goddess’ child. The scion of the Goddess of Creation, given away to a grieving hunter.

Galardos remained quiet in contemplation, so Gromni took the lead instead.

“That’s one venerable story, Master Jund. If this is what happened, then that would make the missy a holy child — she’d have the blood of angels in her. Galardos, do you have a way to corroborate?”

The demigod nodded, not entirely convinced. He didn’t question the honesty in Jund’s retelling of the events, but there was one crucial mismatch between the tale and the girl in question.

Even at a glance, Galardos was confident Milla had no angel blood in her. Throughout his long life, he’d met with more celestials than he could count. He’d fought side by side with them, and even crossed blades against a few. Thus, he was keen to their aura of divinity, and Milla had none of it to her name.

Her mana signature had all the hallmarks of a child of Kathlan, the common ancestor of all demigods. But if she was a descendant of Kathlan, then why in the world would Zarielle bestow her to a peasant?

It didn’t make any sense.

Zarielle and Kathlan were fellow gods, but did not belong to the same pantheon. Zarielle had been in Imrath from the start, whereas Kathlan had been born a human and ascended to godhood by means unknown.

Thus, if the one to answer Jund’s prayers had truly been Zarielle, she’d have given him one of her own children: an angel. But Jund was given a scion of Kathlan instead.

It was a major discrepancy that Galardos couldn’t quite shake off.

“I swear this is the truth,” said Jund, bowing his head humbly. Even to him, the concern in Galardos’ expression was evident.

“Indeed, I do not question that,” Galardos replied. “I trust you’ve told us your story to the letter, but now I’d like to hear from Milla. Can you tell me how you learned to use magic? Did you ever have a mentor?”

Milla perked up as she was addressed. She’d spent her whole life hiding the truth about her power, so being asked to openly talk about it felt strangely surreal.

“No sir, I’m self-taught. I first started using magic when I was, what… two or three years old, I think?” Milla’s gaze slightly wandered as she probed her oldest memories.

“I scared the hell out of Pops back then,” she reminisced. “We were freezing during winter, so I cast a firebolt! I burned down his old place, and we had to move here with auntie Gertrude who ran the brewery. When she passed a few years ago, she left it to us.”

Jund smiled to himself as Milla shared one of her childhood stories. Milla had cried for days at the time, apologizing nonstop, but by now it was a fond memory.

“And well, Pops covered for me back then,” Milla continued. “He told everyone the fire had been an accident, and he told me not to tell anyone about my magic. I’ve kept it a secret ever since.”

That moment marked the start of a slippery slope, one that put Jund and Milla at odds with Imperial law.

“It was my fault,” Jund said apologetically. “I panicked. I was afraid Milla would be taken away from me, even after the Lady had put her in my care. I knew it was a crime to stay quiet, but… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give my daughter away.”

Not that Galardos could blame him. He had no children of his own, but he knew the strength of family ties. Even if the law decreed it, handing over the last member of his family was indeed a tall order to make.

“We’re both at fault, Pops,” Milla comforted him. “I learned about that law when I grew up, and didn’t hand myself in either. I just… didn’t want to leave you, I guess.”

“Thick as thieves, aren’t ya?” Gromni chimed in with a grin.

“Guilty as charged,” Milla conceded awkwardly.

“So, about your magic training,” Galardos returned to topic. “There was no third party involved? You learned all of it on your own?”

“Uh, that’s right,” replied Milla. “I started training when I was little, about four or five years old. Our people go to the forest on scheduled trips, so it’s easy to know when there’s no one around.”

“I see. How old are you now?”

“I just turned 20.”

“And yet you could muster so much magic. Astounding…”

Galardos couldn’t help but be impressed — and alarmed.

Back then, when Milla nearly killed him with her spell, she channeled so much power that she depleted the ambient mana in the area. It was a feat that even Galardos, a millennium-old demigod, couldn’t replicate. No one in the Empire could, even with the full might of an arcane tower behind them.

But there she was, a fledgling who outclassed him in raw magical output.

It was ludicrous. Outright unnatural.

“Heck of a spell, wasn’t it?” Gromni added as his friend went silent. “How did you do it, missy? I’ve seen Galardos pull some spectacular stuff before, but your magic was on a whole different level!”

“Well, about that…” Milla hesitated.

There was a secret she hadn’t shared with them yet, quietly hidden on her back… and for this particular item, she was even more reluctant to talk about than her magic.

“I’ll be frank with you, Milla,” Galardos cut to the chase, sensing her doubts. “Your channeling capacity is abnormal, far beyond anyone else’s in the Empire. Only the Guardian Dragons could come close to you, and even then, you might as well surpass them. I trust I don’t need to explain how strange this is.”

Indeed, he didn’t.

Milla wasn’t dull enough to miss what he meant between the lines.

He knew she was hiding something, and he wouldn’t let her keep quiet about it… even if it meant exposing the greatest insecurity she carried.

“I know. I know it’s strange, but…” she struggled to find the right words.

“It’s okay, Missy. You can trust us,” Gromni assured her.

Galardos quietly nodded next to him, his face stern, but the problem wasn’t that Milla distrusted them in the first place. Rather, she was afraid they would confirm something she’d been afraid of her whole life.

Alas, she couldn’t run away from it anymore.

Several Imperial factions were already on the move looking for her, and chances were they would pry the answers against her will anyway. So, if she could open up to Galardos and Gromni of her own volition… she might as well take the plunge.