______
Gillai
---
"FLIP," I muttered, fingers trembling slightly as I turned the brittle, gilded pages of the ancient manuscript. The script was nearly illegible, the ink faded to an eerie, almost ghostly shade, yet the magic within it pulsed faintly, resonating with the frantic energy I felt in my chest.
My gaze landed on a line of text that made my stomach tighten. Lucina… The name itself carried a weight I hadn't fully understood until now. A cold sweat broke across my neck as the question clawed at my mind: Does she truly have the blood of the Moon Race running through her veins?
The words Giaret had thrown at me weeks ago replayed cruelly in my thoughts: "Her mother was a prostitute." The sting of shame, the absurdity of such a claim, and the creeping dread of what my own research might confirm collided violently. Could the results be wrong? Was there a chance Lucina herself didn't even know the truth about her parentage?
I glanced down at the shallow pan before me. The liquid I had extracted—my careful, painstakingly obtained sample—had shifted into a bright reddish-orange hue, glowing unnaturally under the candlelight. The telltale sign I had feared, yet needed to examine, was unmistakable.
A sudden BURST shattered my concentration. The door flew open with such force it rattled the books on the shelf. My heart leapt; the silhouette framed by the doorway was unmistakable—one of His Majesty's men, muscular and precise, trained to deliver commands with unflinching authority.
"His Majesty would like to know how the research is progressing," he stated, voice firm, eyes unyielding. He repeated it once more, as though my shock had rendered me deaf.
I swallowed hard, the image of that crimson-streaked liquid burned into my mind, now reinforced by another corroborating test. In my hand, the patterns in the blood—fish-like, delicate, and terrifyingly beautiful—confirmed the suspicion I had dared not speak aloud. The question was no longer if, but when and how to reveal the truth to the King.
I looked at the messenger, my face tight with anxiety. Should I tell him? Or would the revelation bring chaos to the court, endanger Lucina, and shake the very foundations of our kingdom?
"No," I whispered to myself, forcing a calm I didn't feel. "I don't want to create unnecessary confusion." Every instinct screamed that I needed certainty, not half-measures or conjecture. I need to conduct more research before I can reach a conclusion.
The messenger inclined his head and departed, granting me a fragile reprieve. I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to my chest. Relief washed over me, but I knew it was temporary—the truth, like a rising tide, would not be held back forever.
I returned to the small basin, watching the faint, blue-white vapor curl up from the reddish liquid. This—this was the crucial next step in my blood magic ritual. The ethereal tendrils danced like a whisper of confirmation, the key to unlocking whether Lucina truly carried the Moon Race's lineage.
Resolute, I sat down once more, determined to pore over the journal, to check and double-check every detail I had overlooked. My mission was clear: absolute certainty before the truth was unveiled. I need to conduct some more research before I can reach a conclusion.
---
I barely had a moment to steady myself when the softest steps approached from behind. Lucina—her presence quiet yet undeniable—loomed in my thoughts even before I saw her. The weight of the day, and of the confusion swirling around her parentage, was visible in the slump of her shoulders.
"Why don't you take a short break, Lucina?" I suggested gently, trying to offer a fragment of normalcy in the chaos. I held out a small, ripe piece of fruit, the simplest gesture of care I could manage.
Her hands were occupied, refusing the offering. The flush rising to her cheeks was unmistakable, and instinctively, I said, "I'll feed you, since your hands are full." Perhaps too intimate, perhaps too bold—but the concern in my chest overrode hesitation.
"I can eat on my own!" she insisted, voice a little too loud, shaking, betraying the tension she tried to hide.
I ignored her protest, bringing the fruit to her lips. Tap. The small, firm fruit brushed against her mouth.
Her reaction was immediate, violent even, though her lips barely formed a sound. A wave of nausea swept over her, twisting her stomach. Her wide eyes mirrored the dark, swirling background of my mind—panic and confusion merging.
"?" she seemed to gasp, unable to form a word.
Alarm flared inside me. "What's wrong?" I demanded, concern replacing the calm of moments ago.
Her hands flew to her mouth, muffling a choked sound. "Um… mmph! Ugh… Urgh!"
I sprang from my seat, my reflexes honed from years of training. Something clattered to the floor as I rushed to her side. "Lucina!" My voice cracked with panic, a rare breach in my usually controlled demeanor.
She struggled to compose herself, attempting reassurance despite the obvious faintness. "I—I'm fine," she whispered, barely audible, words trembling on her lips.
---__________
Hakan
---
The messenger gave a quick NOD and said, "I UNDERSTAND." The door closed with a sharp CLICK, leaving me alone with the glowing basin. I let out a soft PHEW…—a fleeting relief. The reprieve was precious, but the blue-white vapor curling above the reddish liquid—the results of my research on Lucina's lineage—kept my mind restless. Every flicker of light seemed to echo my unease.
I tried to shift my focus away from the journal, away from the implications of the blood magic results. My eyes fell on Lucina, sitting quietly with her hands occupied. "WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A SHORT BREAK, LUCINA?" I suggested, attempting to offer a fragment of normalcy. I extended a small, perfectly ripe piece of fruit. "HERE."
She hesitated, a blush creeping over her cheeks. I leaned closer, offering, "I'LL FEED YOU SINCE YOUR HANDS ARE FULL."
"I CAN EAT ON MY OWN!" she protested, her voice sharper than I expected, though tremors of unease undercut her words.
Ignoring her protest, I brought the fruit to her lips. TAP. The soft touch was meant to comfort, but instead it triggered an immediate, violent reaction. Her face drained of color, and her eyes widened in shock.
"QUEASY." The single word slipped into my mind, an alarm bell ringing.
"WHAT'S WRONG?" I asked, panic edging my voice.
She gagged, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Muffled sounds escaped: UM… MMPH! UGH… URGH!
I jumped to my feet, the sudden movement causing a nearby object to fall with a loud CLATTER. "LUCINA!" I shouted, catching her as her small frame swayed weakly in my arms. Even as she whispered, "I-I'M FINE," I shook my head, refusing to be deceived. "YOU DON'T LOOK FINE TO ME."
This was beyond ordinary discomfort. "SUMMON THE CLERIC IMMEDIATELY," I commanded, voice sharp. Severe nausea like this couldn't be coincidental.
---
The Royal Cleric arrived promptly, an elderly woman whose calm demeanor belied the urgency of her assessment. She studied Lucina's pale face and listened attentively to her symptoms. Her gaze shifted to me, then back to Lucina, a knowing look crossing her features.
"IT SEEMS LIKE SHE'S EXPERIENCING MORNING SICKNESS," the Cleric stated plainly, almost as if the diagnosis was obvious. Lucina's eyes widened, disbelief and fear mixing in their depths.
The Cleric's expression softened, and she shared a fragment of her own experience. "HOW HAVE YOU BEEN FEELING? I SUFFERED FROM REALLY BAD MORNING SICKNESS." Then came the detail that made my blood run cold, tying Lucina's condition directly to the findings of my research: "DRACONIAN BABIES GROW MUCH MORE QUICKLY THAN HUMAN BABIES… SO YOUR BODY WILL SOON FEEL A LOT HEAVIER."
Draconian. The word resonated like a hammer striking stone. The connection between Lucina's sickness and her lineage was undeniable.
A figure, masked and adorned with elaborate turquoise beads, spoke next, his voice measured but curious. "COME TO THINK OF IT, ADAR SAID SHE SUFFERED FROM SEVERE MORNING SICKNESS."
Lucina's voice trembled as she asked tentatively, "COULD I BE EXPERIENCING IT AS WELL?"
"IT SEEMS LIKE IT," the masked figure confirmed. "MORNING SICKNESS HAS A RANGE OF SYMPTOMS, BUT IT SEEMS LIKE LUCINA IS BEGINNING TO REJECT THE SMELL OF FOOD."
I listened, absorbing the shock of this revelation. My mind raced, connecting the blue vapor, the reddish liquid, the Moon Race blood, and now this Draconian condition. I ran a hand through my long hair, trying to steady myself.
"I'D ADVISE YOUR MAJESTY TO FIND SOME FOOD THAT DOESN'T MAKE HER FEEL NAUSEOUS," the Cleric suggested, her voice calm but firm.
"I SEE," I murmured, my thoughts already shifting to solutions. The research, the bloodline, the sickness—all intertwined. "I'LL FIND SOMETHING FOR HER TO EAT WHILE SHE SUFFERS FROM MORNING SICKNESS."
Another retainer, his thick braids swaying as he stepped forward with a hopeful smile, added, "I KNOW JUST THE THING FOR MORNING SICKNESS!"
I looked at him, expectant, wary of false hope. "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?"
He leaned closer, voice dropping into a WHISPER. "IT'S A FRUIT FROM THE HOT SOUTHERN CONTINENT…" He hesitated, regret flashing in his eyes. "AH, BUT IT'S EXTREMELY HARD TO GET A HOLD OF. IT'S ONLY IMPORTED IN SMALL QUANTITIES…"
I felt a surge of determination. No obstacle would stop me. "THAT'S FINE. I'LL GET SOME NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES." I turned toward the sunlit courtyard, my mind already racing. "PREPARE MY HORSE IMMEDIATELY."
A new mission had begun.
---
The messenger had given a firm NOD and said, "I UNDERSTAND." The door clicked shut behind him, and I pressed a hand to my chest, letting out a heavy PHEW…. I had successfully stalled the King's inquiry into Lucina's bloodline, but the sudden onset of her illness overshadowed everything.
I looked down at Lucina, her white hair framing a face twisted with discomfort. I offered her a piece of fruit. "WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A SHORT BREAK, LUCINA? HERE."
She hesitated, and when I tried to feed her—"I'LL FEED YOU SINCE YOUR HANDS ARE FULL"—her body reacted violently. Her face drained of color. QUEASY. She gagged, covering her mouth with a muffled, desperate UM… MMPH! UGH, URGH!
I sprang to my feet, and something fell with a loud CLATTER. "LUCINA!" She whispered, "I-I'M FINE," but I refused to let go. "YOU DON'T LOOK FINE TO ME. SUMMON THE CLERIC IMMEDIATELY."
The Cleric, an older woman with a gentle yet commanding presence, arrived promptly. She assessed Lucina carefully, her eyes sharp and knowing. "IT SEEMS LIKE SHE'S EXPERIENCING MORNING SICKNESS," she declared. She shared her own experience: "I SUFFERED FROM REALLY BAD MORNING SICKNESS." Then she added the detail that struck me like a physical blow: "DRACONIAN BABIES GROW MUCH MORE QUICKLY THAN HUMAN BABIES… SO YOUR BODY WILL SOON FEEL A LOT HEAVIER."
A frustrated hand ran through my long hair. The masked figure standing nearby commented, "MORNING SICKNESS HAS A RANGE OF SYMPTOMS, BUT IT SEEMS LIKE LUCINA IS BEGINNING TO REJECT THE SMELL OF FOOD."
"I SEE," I finally murmured. The Cleric advised, "I'D ADVISE YOUR MAJESTY TO FIND SOME FOOD THAT DOESN'T MAKE HER FEEL NAUSEOUS."
"I'LL FIND SOMETHING FOR HER TO EAT WHILE SHE SUFFERS FROM MORNING SICKNESS," I promised, determination flaring in my chest.
A man with thick, braided hair, a retainer, stepped forward. "I KNOW JUST THE THING FOR MORNING SICKNESS!"
I raised a skeptical brow. "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?"
He explained, "I HEARD THAT MY MOTHER'S MORNING SICKNESS DISAPPEARED… AND SHE REGAINED HER APPETITE AFTER EATING IT."
"What is it?" I pressed, urgency thick in my voice.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice into a WHISPER: "IT'S A FRUIT FROM THE HOT SOUTHERN CONTINENT…" He paused, regret shadowing his tone. "AH, BUT IT'S EXTREMELY HARD TO GET A HOLD OF. IT'S ONLY IMPORTED IN SMALL QUANTITIES…"
I didn't hesitate. "THAT'S FINE. I'LL GET SOME NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES." My decision was immediate. I gave a sharp command: "PREPARE MY HORSE IMMEDIATELY."
"I DON'T THINK IT WILL BE THAT EASY TO FIND…" another voice, Hakan's, warned me.
I ignored the caution, spurring my horse into a brisk pace. CLIP CLOP, CLIP CLOP echoed across the cobblestones, my mind consumed entirely by the mission.
At a bustling merchant stall, I scanned the crates. "IS THIS WHERE THEY SELL THE FRUIT?" I asked.
"Yes, but I don't know if they'll still be selling them right now—" the merchant began.
Then I spotted them. A whole crate, gleaming under the sunlight. Round, bright, and exactly what I needed. "OH, THERE THEY ARE!" Relief surged.
It wasn't long before I returned. KNOCK KNOCK. Lucina opened the door. "WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE, HAKAN?" she asked, mistaking me in my travel-worn clothes.
"IT'S ME, LUCINA," I said firmly, stepping inside. The large sack of precious fruit landed with a soft THUMP. "I HEARD THERE WAS A CERTAIN TYPE OF FRUIT THAT MIGHT HELP WITH YOUR MORNING SICKNESS, SO I BROUGHT SOME OVER."
Lucina's eyes widened as she took in the pile of exotic fruit. "T-THERE ARE SO MANY. AREN'T THESE FRUITS REALLY EXPENSIVE?"
Hakan, the retainer with the braided hair, burst into the room, incredulous. "WHEN DID YOU GET ALL OF THESE?"
I waved off his concern. "IT'S NO BIG DEAL. THERE'S NOTHING I WOULDN'T DO FOR YOU, LUCINA."
Hakan's anger erupted. "NO BIG DEAL, MY ASS! YOU ESSENTIALLY ROBBED THAT POOR GUY!"
I smirked, unbothered. Turan may have made it sound worse than it was, but the welfare of Lucina—and our child—was worth every extreme measure.
IV. The Argument Over the "Robbery"
I stood proudly in Lucina's room, watching the sack of exotic fruit settle. "I HEARD THERE WAS A CERTAIN TYPE OF FRUIT THAT MIGHT HELP WITH YOUR MORNING SICKNESS, SO I BROUGHT SOME OVER," I explained.
Lucina looked at the pile, eyes wide. "T-There are so many. Aren't these fruits really expensive?"
Hakan's voice thundered, "WHEN DID YOU GET ALL OF THESE?"
I shrugged. "It's no big deal. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Lucina."
"NO BIG DEAL, MY ASS!" Hakan bellowed. "YOU ESSENTIALLY ROBBED THAT POOR GUY!"
I scoffed. "Turan's making it sound worse than it was."
Hakan was relentless. "It was no different than a robbery!"
Lucina, shocked, turned to me. "Does that mean… you stole all of these from him?!"
"Of course not," I replied, maintaining eye contact. "I paid him a fair amount."
Hakan shot back, "Didn't you see the face he made after you cornered him?"
I ignored the drama, walking past him. My mind was already on the solution. At the merchant stall, feet CLACK CLACK on the ground, I addressed the terrified vendor: "YOU THERE. WELCOME—" before cutting him off, voice commanding, "I heard you sell passion fruit here."
He stammered, "W-Well… someone came and bought everything I had just now."
"Just now, you say?" I asked, piercing gaze locking on his. My head gave a slight NOD, and he echoed nervously, "Y-Yes, Your Majesty…"
Without pause, I moved decisively. "Then I'll have to find them immediately." I located the lucky vendor and commanded, "GRAB. YOU THERE, HAND OVER ALL YOUR FRUIT!" His terrified EEK! barely registered as I ensured payment was prompt and generous.
"In return, I'll give you one for each piece of fruit," I said to Lucina, offering her the precious cargo. My actions had been extreme, but nothing mattered more than her well-being.
The cleric's words still echoed in my mind: Draconian babies grow much faster than human babies. Every measure I took, every risk I ran, was justified. The fruit was all that mattered.
I stood firm against Hakan's outrage. "Turan's making it sound a lot worse than it was," I insisted, dismissing the retainer's claim that my acquisition of the fruit "was no different than a robbery."
"Does that mean… you stole all of these from him?!" Lucina asked, eyes wide, her delicate face framed by the soft glow of sunlight from the window.
"Of course not," I replied steadily, meeting her gaze. I chose not to elaborate on the speed or force of my transaction. "I paid him a fair amount."
Hakan muttered, still seething, "Didn't you see the face he made after you cornered him?"
I walked past him, holding a piece of the exotic fruit. "But I gave him gold immediately afterwards as payment. In return, I'll give you one for each piece of fruit," I said, gesturing to the overflowing bag at my feet.
Lucina glanced at the vast pile. "…I can't eat all of these, Hakan."
"That's what I said!" Hakan muttered, crossing his arms, still fuming.
I smiled reassuringly. "You can save them for later."
Lucina's lips curved into a genuine, radiant SMILE. "But thank you. This shows how much you care about me."
My heart gave a heavy BA-BUMP. A simple smile, a moment of genuine appreciation from her, made the frantic, possibly criminal, acquisition of the fruit completely worthwhile.
Slowly, her beautiful, delicate hand reached out and took a piece of the fruit from the pile. She brought the strange, reddish, exotic fruit to her lips, taking a small, tentative bite.
Her eyes widened, not with nausea, but with pure delight. MUNCH! She chewed eagerly, already reaching for another piece.
"It's delicious!" she exclaimed, voice bright with enthusiasm.
I felt a monumental wave of relief wash over me. The desperate scramble, the confrontation with the merchant, the arguments with Hakan—it had all been worth it. I couldn't help but smile back.
"Now that it's come to this, why don't we eat them together?" I suggested.
Lucina's smile grew even brighter. "THAT SOUNDS GREAT! OKAY!"
For the first time since the Cleric's terrifying diagnosis, a real sense of peace settled over the room. The question of her Moon Race blood and the Draconian pregnancy still loomed, but in this small, perfect moment, she was happy, she was eating, and that was all that mattered.
A few weeks later, the grand Temple in the Brion Kingdom was steeped in a sense of anxious piety. Candlelight flickered across the polished floors, casting elongated shadows that seemed to echo the worries of those within.
A figure in pristine white robes approached a blond-haired man seated in quiet contemplation—His Eminence. The attendant held out a stack of sealed correspondence.
"These are all the letters addressed to Your Eminence," the attendant explained. "One of these letters is from the Tayar Tribe, so we needed to inspect it first, which meant it has taken a while to pass this on."
His Eminence considered the news, brow furrowed in thought. "Hmm…" he murmured, then gently dismissed the attendant. "Thank you. You may leave now."
Once alone, His Eminence picked up the parchment bearing the royal red seal. A soft RUSTLE echoed as he handled the delicate paper, turning it carefully in his hands.
"So this is the letter from the Tayar Tribe," he mused. The top envelope's writing clearly marked its origin: From Lucina.
He stared at it, concern and surprise darkening his features. "Lucina…?"
Though he had been expecting some news, a direct letter from the Tayar Tribe, carrying Lucina's name, was highly unusual and deeply unsettling. It was well known that the Moon Race bloodline, which Adar had been secretly researching, was tied to the Tayar Tribe. The very existence of this letter suggested that the situation surrounding Lucina was escalating far beyond the scope of Adar's research journal and the recent news of her morning sickness.
Carefully, he broke the seal. The crisp sound echoed through the quiet temple. Whatever lay within—whether a plea for help, an official notice, or a revelation—was certain to change the course of events for the Brion Kingdom.