Stefan’s hazel pupils widened at the mention of Gareth’s name. How had this southerner woman he and the others had just come across known of his name? It was true that Gareth’s name may have been echoed throughout the south as the Titanian Empire’s greatest enemy, but how had she connected him to Stefan simply by looking at the boy?

“Gareth Koppel…?” Stefan breathed. “As in the usurp—

“Yes, that Gareth. The only Gareth I could possibly know,” Ilias’ mother confirmed. “What is your connection with him?”

Ivan stepped forward, his hand instinctively flying to where his gun or knife would’ve been had his utility belt been on him.

“Ma’am, that is quite the question you’re asking.” Ivan spoke, his tone polite but firm.

“You three,” Ilias’ mother sighed. “I have a feeling that the reason you’re here may not be the one Ilias told me. And none of that is my business. I’d just like to know your relation to Gareth, Stefan.”

How does she know? Anwen asked herself as a bead of sweat dripped down her temple. Was my accent too forced? Do Stefan and Ivan look too kempt to be slaves? Where did the truth slip?

“If we do tell you, how do we know you won’t tell anyone, ma’am?” Ivan said in a defensive tone, crossing his arms.

Oh, he did it. He’s gone and did it.

Ilias’ mother stood beside her son, who was utterly confused, and held him firmly by the shoulders.

“Look at Ilias. Do you notice it? Do y’all see how different he looks compared to everyone in the south you’ve seen so far? Do you understand why he faces everything that he has? I ain’t in the position to tell anyone about anything. I just want to know what Gareth has been up to these past years.”

“Gareth was my… my mentor.” Stefan admitted quietly after listening to the woman’s sincerity and her genuine desire to safeguard her son’s peace. He had taken a good look at the boy and understood that he was not a full-blooded southerner. There was a complicated image of Gareth in Stefan’s head, but he at least believed that this woman deserved the answers she was looking for.

“Was that all he was to you, Stefan?” Ilias’ mother edged nearer to Stefan and touched the side of the boy’s face. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but… something about you really is just like him.”

The only one who knew anything of the truth of Stefan’s story, Anwen, was plagued by visions, scenarios, and dilemmas. She could probably trust Ilias’ mother to learn about their true objective in the south, but how could she understand Stefan’s relationship with Gareth if he himself wasn’t aware of it? And how would he react to the inordinate news in this foreign land, far away from home? More importantly, what would he think of her once everything had been said and done?

No, this was going to happen sooner or later. If I let it build up, he would hate me more if I told him later rather than now. I don’t want him to hate me, but what other choice is there? If my words will hurt him anyway, shouldn’t I try to make it hurt less?

Anwen’s whole body trembled ever so slightly as she pulled Ivan to the side, replacing him in the spot he was just in.

“Ma’am… Stefan isn’t just Gareth’s apprentice,” Anwen said, finally dropping her accent. “Can we speak more about it inside?”

Ilias’ mother nodded, indicating her open mind, and led the trio into the house with her son. She instructed the trio to take off their footwear first, as was the common practice in the south.

The inside of the house looked bigger than the outside, but that was because all of its rooms were on one floor. It had all the rooms and many features one would find in a northern house, except that it had much more natural ventilation due to the climate. In addition, its lighting features and many appliances were run on electricity, but the power was not available all-day.

Ilias’ mother led them to the drawing room, where the only place available to sit on was the floor, covered partly in a rug. Anxiety flooded Anwen’s mind, so she allowed Ivan to reveal their true purpose in the south. He started by giving out ‘Amara’s’ true name for clear transparency. He explained their membership in the Black Shield—better known as the New Yeupisians to the subjects of the Titanian Empire, including the southerners—and the mission they had been assigned. Ilias’ mother was not as surprised as Ivan and the others thought she would be, but young Ilias was livid, painting the trio as superheroes. His mother had to send him to his room before he got too thrilled, but she quickly returned to the drawing room.

“I’m ready when you are.” Ilias’ mother said with an encouraging smile.

“Ma’am, I have something I need to clear up with Stefan,” Anwen said. “But you’re welcome to listen. I… think it’s better to get some things out of the way first.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Of course, my dear.” Ilias’ mother nodded.

“Stefan, it’s about time I told you,” Anwen turned on her crossed legs, facing Stefan’s side. “I know we agreed that I told you what Gareth told me after everything settles down. But as you can see, that can’t wait.”

“I know,” Stefan sighed deeply, his heart thumping hard in his chest. “I’m ready.”

“Before I tell you anything, can you do something for me?” Anwen asked, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“What do you want me to do?” he inquired.

“Try not to think of me any differently.”

“Like I said,” Stefan looked at Anwen for a few moments. “I’m ready.”

Ilias’ mother and Ivan sat nearby but not with the teenagers, patiently listening along. So Anwen began. She revealed that Gareth was the current Titanian Emperor’s illegitimate half-brother, adding onto Stefan’s knowledge that the man had Titanian blood, and that there was a total of three siblings among them including the general Gareth had battled in Shargara. She mentioned the suffering and trauma he had to go through just to receive a sliver of respect from his peers, and how his birth to a Terran slave forced into the Emperor’s bed made him into the man he became.

And then she told Stefan his own tale of origin, being the illegitimate son of the Emperor that sat on the Titanian throne at that very moment. Unbeknownst to anyone in that room, though, Halsten Karesti was only the ruler on paper. Finally, she disseminated her own discovery and adoption by Gareth, omitting many parts including the involvement of the Bernard family for the sake of time, as well as the trauma that prevented her from remembering the exact sequence of events. Before ending her confession, she made sure to tell Stefan that while Gareth born from the hatred around him, Stefan himself was a product of absolute love and compassion.

“I… I don’t know what to feel.” Stefan said, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Take your time. No one expects you to digest everything so fast.” Anwen reminded him.

I’m strong because of what I hate. My strength comes from the blood of the people who killed my mother, took my brother, and bore me. I’m fighting what I hate. And what I hate… is me.

“Anwen?” Stefan said without glancing at her, gazing into the floor before him.

“Y-Yeah, Stefan?”

“It’s true that I don’t know what to feel,” he admitted. “But I don’t hate you. Thank you for telling me,”

Anwen’s lips formed into a sheepish smile, relieved more than ever that her relationship with Stefan was still intact. In fact, it may have been stronger than ever.

“I think… part of it makes me happy though.” Stefan mused aloud after some moments.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“Because now I know I have a cousin.” Stefan smiled, gently patting his newly discovered familial connection’s head.

Oh, that’s right. We are technically cousins. I forgot about that.

Despite Stefan’s outwardly composed appearance, as a parent, Ilias’ mother knew that there was much tension rising inside him. She chose to allow Stefan some time to process the knowledge he had been given, before telling the trio of her connection with Gareth.

“Have y’all eaten since you got to Chitran?” she asked eventually.

“We haven’t.” Ivan confirmed. The man was stunned by the revelation of Gareth’s relation to Stefan, and by extension Anwen’s relationship with Stefan, but he decided to keep his thoughts inside.

“How about I get y’all somethin’ to quench your hunger?” she said, less of a request and more like something she was going to do anyway. She walked into the kitchen, opening a contraption known as a refrigerator that stored and preserved foods and drink. She took out a pitcher of orange juice she had squeezed recently, using it to fill four large glasses. She then heated leftovers from the previous night, having nothing else ready to serve her unexpected guests. As she waited for the meaty stew, known as haleem, to warm up, she couldn’t help but stare out the window as she too grappled with what Anwen had said about Gareth.

It makes sense now. How you were so quiet, how you barely talked about yourself. I wouldn’t want to talk about that stuff either. And how different you looked compared to the scoundrels that patrol this land, even though you were definitely one of them. You were an anomaly, Gareth Koppel. Oh, how I wish you could’ve stayed. I only knew you for a month, but that month was the true start of my life. If you let me trust you a little more… would things have been different? Would you have gotten to know about your son and love him as much as I do? Oh, well, of course you would. That little lady sitting in my drawing room, she’s proof you were an amazing father. I only wish I could’ve seen it.

The haleem was ready to serve so she poured it into bowls, accompanying them with flatbreads, and placing them on a tray along with the orange juice. She brought the tray to the drawing room and saw Ivan and Anwen discussing what she assumed were details about the Black Shield mission, and Stefan sitting on his own nearby. Ivan had pulled Anwen from Stefan to ease the awkwardness of the state of affairs.

She passed out the food and drink before helping herself, and she allowed her guests to fill their stomachs.

Jay’s food was something, but if this is how all southern food tastes, I’m going to have to come here often! Ivan mused after shoving a piece of flatbread stuffed with lentils and meat into his mouth.

Ilias’ mother noticed how slowly the two teenager ingested their meals, dipping their torn pieces of flatbread into the liquid, soaking it before pulling chunks of meat of bones with their fingers and putting it into their mouths. Both took their time with eating, but Anwen was doing it noticeably slower.

You can tell how a person’s feeling by the way they eat, Ilias’ mother observed as they dug into her own food.

“Thank you so much for this delicious food, ma’am,” Ivan said. He was truly grateful for the unexpected meal, but he sensed growing unease from the two children under his wing. He wanted to cut the tension as much as he could, as subtly as possible, so starting a new conversation would be the way to go. “By the way, you haven’t told us about yourself yet.”

“I was just about to get there,” Ilias’ mother said, wiping her hands off on a handkerchief she hung from waistband of the pajama-like trousers she wore. It seemed that Anwen and Ilias were just about done, so she was ready to tell her story. “Well, I’m Ilias’ mama. But if you must know, my name’s Manisha. I saved a man you all know from drowning in the ocean one day.”