Passing the Baton

AFTER A FEW MINUTES, the demigod regained his composure and could finally face Gizelle again. Or at least he could try, if the shame allowed it. In the end, he was still lying on her lap.

“You almost scared me to death, you know? If Arlene’s people hadn’t found me on time, we would’ve lost you,” said the dragonkin, giving Galardos the chance to hop back into business.

“I know. I’m sorry it came to that, but it was imperative that I reached you.”

“Oh, what did you say?” even as she smiled, a vein bulged on her forehead. “Did you just imply this was deliberate?”

“Well, uh… How can I put this?” the demigod feared for his life for a moment.

“Don’t tell me you conspired with Vahram, and you had him nearly kill you so I’d come running to your rescue. That can’t be it, right?”

“… Drastic measures were necessary. Hnngh!”

She began to smother him with a pillow.

“Galardos, are you serious!? Do you have any idea how close that was?”

“Mrrrh! Grrh!”

“Unbelievable! You owe me and Arlene one hell of an apology, do you hear me?”

“Agh! I know! I know, and I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. But I had to reach you at all costs,” said the demigod, barely freeing himself from Gizelle’s clutches.

“Oh, and here I thought you’d grown up already. But there you are, like a toddler, finding new and creative ways to get yourself killed.”

“Hey, don’t be like that. You know I wouldn’t resort to methods like this lightly.”

“Really? I remember a handful of times.”

“Each of them urgent.”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, so shoot your shot. Why did you need me so badly?”

“I can’t say it out loud. Can you use telepathy?”

“Do it yourself. I healed you already.”

Galardos blinked in surprise.

“My aether pathways?”

To his utter shock, it was true.

Despite the extensive damage sustained by his arcane circuitry, his magic still answered him. The old demigod couldn’t fathom what kind of healing ritual had been used on him, and he was outright scared to know.

“You’ll need to rest for a few weeks, but soon enough you’ll be as good as new.”

“I don’t know what to say. You’re something else, Gizelle.”

“Hah! Don’t give me too much credit. With the stuff available in my temple, anyone could do it… which reminds me, I’ll put the materials I used on your tab.”

The comment made Galardos gulp.

“How much do I owe you?”

“An Angelbreath Elixir and a Scroll of Reality Warp, among a few other things.”

He nearly fainted as Gizelle casually threw the name of two national treasures.

“Now don’t go dying on me, my boy. I’m sure you can’t repay me, so I’ll have you work it off as my right-hand man. Zarielle knows I could use another demigod here.”

Such was her ploy to take Galardos under her wing, and frankly, he was flattered by it. But alas, fate might have an entirely different plan for them in store.

“About that… I’m so sorry, Gizelle.”

“What? You’re not running off again, are you?”

“No, it’s not that. Gods, I wish it were.”

“Don’t make me beat you.”

“I won’t. It’s just… here, let me show you.”

The old demigod offered an encrypted telepathic link, the same way he had done to his brother earlier. Seeing his seriousness, Gizelle steeled herself and accepted the spell.

Her expression darkened as Galardos’ memories flowed over, and by the time they were done, the air of a gentle healer about her was all but gone.

“You’ve done well in reaching me,” she finally said, her voice firm and regal. “I’ll take over from here.”

“Thank you, Gizelle.”

“No. Thank you, Galardos. The Empire is in your debt.”

“Even now, it’s still my home. It’s only natural I’ll defend it.”

“If only more demigods were like you,” she said with a soft smile. “Stay here and rest; I’ll call some clerics to follow up on your treatment. In the meantime, I’ll be off to see the others.”

“Will do. Good luck out there.”

“Have a good night,” she smiled at him one last time, and then she left the room.

Alas, for better or worse, Galardos had just lied through his teeth.

He knew the plot around Milla and Angeline involved multiple factions, and his meeting with Gizelle wouldn’t go unnoticed by any of them. They’d have plenty of questions desperate for answers, so he couldn’t afford to laze in the temple while Gizelle was out in the field.

The fewer interruptions she’d face, the better.

So, the moment she made herself scarce, Galardos donned his armor and hopped outside the window.

The old dragonkin would make him pay hell for his escape, but he didn’t mind.

At the very least, there was one more gambit he had to pull off for the night.

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

AT THE TIME Galardos was undergoing treatment from Gizelle in the Temple of Respite, Vahram Alessia made a beeline to an unassuming workshop in the artisan quarters, close to the city square.

It was a smithy operated by a dwarf by the name of Matellor. He catered to mid-level adventurers, offering high-quality gear but nothing extraordinary. All his paperwork was in order, his taxes were paid, and he had no criminal record.

Yet, deep into the night, his business was surrounded by a unit of imperial knights from the Order of the Crimson Blade — Vahram’s personal army.

The charges against him? Breach of teleportation regulations, smuggling and distribution of clandestine goods, at the direction of Galardos Alessia.

Citing their family ties, Vahram took the liberty of conducting the arrest personally, taking custody of the dwarf and his accomplices. The city guards, unwilling to risk a dispute with the demigod, gave him free rein to handle the affair.

Unbeknownst to them, the people being escorted into the carriage from House Alessia were Milla, Angeline and Gromni.

“Hurry on! We don’t have all night,” Vahram urged them, loudly and in a bad mood.

Thanks to the spatial calamity Galardos had left behind, the Inquisition was too busy to poke their heads into a small-time arrest like this. Yet there was no telling how long the cover story would hold, so time was of the essence.

And then, as if on cue…

“Vahram Alessia!” a female voice cried from the sky.

It was Arlene.

“Zarielle merciful, here we go…” thought Vahram.

She landed in front of him, walked up to the demigod and slapped him square across the face with her armored glove.

“How dare you…” her voice seethed with wrath as she confronted him. “Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?”

A thin, but visible aura of mana emanated around her.

She was ready for a fight.

“I punished him as he deserved,” replied Vahram, straightening his posture. “You saw what he did, heard what he said. And after interrogation, I learned of his crimes.”

“What? Pissing in public and calling us names?”

“Smuggling. Remember the glowdust that’s been going around? That was him. He used a teleportation circle inside this workshop,” he blatantly lied to her, glad that Arlene was so agitated that she didn’t cast a Zone of Truth spell.

“Drugs?” she asked, increasingly furious. “You put that — that thing on your brother’s heart... over some DRUGS!?”

She was screaming by the end, leaving him with many questions he couldn’t ask.

Unbeknownst to him, Arlene had found the rune left by the Empress ten years ago, and she mistakenly thought Vahram had just inscribed it.

Alas, the younger demigod was in no position to break the narrative. His brother had explicitly asked him to keep Arlene out of the equation, and he intended to uphold that promise.

“I did what I had to. If you have any problems with that, then take it up to court.”

The demigoddess clenched her fists so tight that her claws nearly dented her gloves.

“Does your word mean nothing to you? On the day he left us, we promised to find him — to bring him back and restore his honor. We vowed to defend him, Vahram! And today, when he finally returned to us… Gods! How could you do that to him?”

The memory alone made her nauseous, filling her with nothing but contempt.

But Vahram, oblivious to her context, faithfully stuck to his role.

“I promised to find my brother, not some heinous criminal. People died from this, Arlene… and as the heir of House Alessia, it’s my duty to see him punished.”

“You’ve gone insane. No crime in this world could warrant that torture.”

“That’s not for you to judge. It’s a family matter, so I’d ask of you to kindly excuse yourself and go home.”

“I’M YOUR FAMILY TOO!!” Arlene yelled, glaring daggers at the man.

But Vahram — his heart bleeding from what he was about to do — struck her down with the words that followed.

“No, you are not. The two of you… You never wed.”

Arlene froze.

Of all the things Vahram could’ve said, that alone she couldn’t deny.

Following the old tradition, demigods would only marry their partner after conceiving a child. But try as they did for centuries, that was a gift Arlene had failed to deliver.

It was by no fault of hers, of course.

Demigods were mostly infertile, and no kind of magic or medicine could remedy it.

But at the end of the day, Vahram’s words struck true:

He and Arlene were not family, no matter how much she wanted to be.

A heavy, painful silence descended upon the demigods.

She did her damnedest to restrain herself, but no manner of willpower or magic could hold back the tears from streaming down her eyes. The shame, the heartbreak, the sheer sense of impotence… it was too much for her to bear.

Stretching her wings, with her head hanging low, the demigoddess made off into the night sky. As much as she craved for consolation, there was no solace to be found there.

Her beloved was still fighting for his life, and the only other person she was close with in the capital had been the one to wound her in the first place. Alas, miserable as she was, she’d have to sob alone.

And unbeknownst to Arlene — outside the dwarven workshop, Vahram Alessia would quietly shed tears of his own for the unforgivable transgression he had dealt to her.