I'll see you guys next Monday, the 23rd 6-9 AM PST.
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Kaladin Shadowheart's POV
Bowen ended our little… scene in a matter of moments. It was like his initial rage and frustration for us decimating his yard vanished the second he saw Sylvia. He looked completely and utterly baffled, which was a good thing, in my opinion. After all, it was a far better feeling to be shocked about Sylvia's true existence than to be afraid of it.
At least, that's what I would have preferred. Sylvia seemed nervous nonetheless as Bowen launched into a machine gun fire worth of questions at her. I don't believe Bowen even stopped to take a single breath, tapping into his War God-like abilities somehow. It got bad enough that my family and I just had to slink back to the house in silence.
But Sylvia seemed more than happy to answer Bowen's questions. I suppose she feels that she owes him for taking care of us for so long. Besides, it was just questions about an old empire that no longer existed…right?
A small shock went up my spine as my warm skin touched the cold surface of the tub. But it was quickly replaced with a soothing warmth as my tired body dipped into the tub. Sylvia managed to take a moment to heal my wounds, and although I was fine now, I was still tired.
My stamina isn't exactly back to 100% since my three-month coma, let alone my mental fatigue over the last couple of days. It would probably take some more time to get back into the swing of things.
There was so much to consider…so much to think about…
I'd already compartmentalized my spat with Dad. No shadow magic for me. I'm desperately behind on my spear skills. Fighting and winning against a War God-level person will still be a sizable hurdle for me to cross, even if I'm at full capacity and going all out.
Even if I became a master in the art of the spear, I highly doubt that it would make that much of a difference for me. No, if my body was predetermined at my birth never to wield the power of a War God, then so be it. That just meant I had to overcome the obstacle in other ways…and I had some ideas on how to accomplish that goal.
It should almost be time…just waiting for that last bit of information before I send them to start looking for him. I don't want to send my adventurer team in the wrong direction, now do I?
And why was it that I felt that I needed to beat a War God? Now I shouldn't have to worry about it…right? I'm surrounded by two family members who are War Gods in the center of the capital with even more War Gods. Some of them are even my friends or, at the very least, acquaintances of mine.
But I don't feel safe at all…Grandpa's words still ring in my head…
"You may be deaf now, but I've been in this city for less than a day, and I can already hear the drums of war beating. The world is changing, and you are at the center of it," I muttered to myself.
Perhaps he's right. Maybe war was brewing, and I'll be at the center of it. If that's the case, strong individuals may come for my life or the life of those close to me. There was a time when I didn't think I needed my old strength and that ended up burning me.
Perhaps I need to tap into my old training habits. Some of them are quite brutal, but it may be a possibility. The others might want to join in as well. We can—
What am I even saying?
I sighed to myself and splashed some warm water on my face. I started wetting my hair so I could wash it toward the end of my bath. Typically I just showered as filling this massive bath took a long time. After all, the gray and black tub was big enough to fit two of me. It was far larger than the one in my dorm room.
I let out another strained sigh and rubbed my face free of water. I couldn't believe I was about to put my family or friends through even an ounce of what it meant to be a Death Commando. My training back then on Mars with the God Progam wasn't training that anyone but a Death Commando could do.
Since we didn't need to sleep, we trained at regular intervals for hours a day, only taking the necessary rest our bodies required for growth. And when we weren't physically training, we were mentally training. We spent hours in white rooms, just learning things. There were no breaks. We barely even had to drink water or eat food. That's just a quick summary of how it was. What it was like to live as a machine. A tool for others.
Looking back at my training, it was inhumane on every level. Even though the memories are fuzzy, I can still recall my time in the Kill Houses. Live training fields where they deployed captured Xenos for us to hunt and kill. Sometimes they were so badly hurt we just executed them. Some of them begged us to kill them. Others shot themselves before we even reached them.
And in all my sparrings with the first generations, we used lethal force on each other. Our fights were barbaric. It wasn't uncommon for one of us to spend days in a Bio-sculptor because we were beaten so thoroughly. Sometimes we were one punch away from death. And some really did die.
That just won't do. I can't live that kind of life anymore. I don't want to live that kind of life ever again. It's not worth getting stronger if it means losing myself or someone I care about. Sigh…
All this talk of War Gods brought me back to my fight with Cerila. I was surprised at just how strong she had become. Her ice magic was unbelievable, and I overheard Padraic saying she was a Master, but honestly, I felt she was at the cusp of being a Grand Master with just how fast her spell cores moved and formed.
Her magic spell core formation was almost instantaneous in some cases, and she did all of that while maintaining a high level of mana enhancement, something not typically possible for even the highest-skilled mages. Not to mention her sword-fighting skills were on par with some of the best that I had seen. She was far better than, say, Ren or Parker. And if I had to be honest, she was definitely better than Sylvia.
Even so…I was still surprised to see that she wasn't as capable as she should be.
With my Soul Sight, there was no doubt in my mind that Cerila was at the level of War God. She should be in the upper echelons of power in this world, yet she couldn't tap into that capacity for some reason, even with Grandpa's training.
So why was that? What was holding her back? When did a War God figure out they were a War God? How did they know….what's the difference between Mom and Cerila…I pondered this all the way back to when I first fought the professor, and I still don't have an answer.
I shrugged to myself. I didn't have the answer to that question, and I doubt any War God had the true answer. Maybe they had vague feelings or ideas about how they came to be but nothing more. If being a War God was decided by one's birth, then it had to be some type of intrinsic ability that only they knew. Perhaps I could help Cerila work through some things…more training, perhaps…I'm not sure.
But seeing her so defeated after our fight…she looked devastated. Maybe I took things too seriously. I'll have to apologize to her for that. I didn't mean to make her cry…
And speaking of more training.
I had to train more with Dad as well as Mom. Seeing Mom's lightning magic firsthand showed me that I still don't fully understand that school of magic. I had asked her why she didn't cast any Lightning Bolts, and she simply shrugged her shoulders at me and told me she could not cast long-range lighting spells for whatever reason. That it just wasn't in the cards for her… something about being a Lightning Blade.
Either way, I needed a teacher. And what better person to teach me than somebody who has an entirely different grasp of lightning magic? Thankfully, Mom agreed to train me with almost no complaints. I said almost because there were…conditions that needed to be met…like going shopping or eating breakfast together.
A price that I was willing to pay…I would have done all of that regardless of whether she trained me or not. I mean, I missed her just as much.
I let my body slide into the tub to where only my nose was above the water. The warm water seeped into my bones, and I felt refreshed and just a bit tired. Honestly, I've started feeling a lot better ever since last night with Sylvia.
I felt my heart beat a bit faster in my chest, and the tips of my ears warmed up as I thought back to sleeping with Sylvia. I mean, all we did was just fall asleep together, nothing more than sharing a bed. But it felt different. It definitely felt different for some reason.
Different…huh…
Sylvia did fulfill Mom's request. She showed that she could protect Mila and me, which seemed to have pleased Mom and even Dad. Both of them had fond smiles as they looked at Sylvia. That…made me happy…I guess…
The ledge…maybe I should—
Bam.
I shot up from the tub with a spell core already forming in my hand as the door to the bathroom slammed open. Unlike last time I made sure to lock the door to the bedroom, and I was absolutely certain I was alone before getting in the bath. No voices…no people…just me and the tub…so…
"Mila? How did you get in here?!" I squeaked in disbelief as I stopped feeding the growing spell core mana.
Mila just shrugged and acted as if this was entirely normal. "A nice man let me in."
"A nice man…what?"
A nice man? What nice man? It couldn't be Bowen. There was no way he was done talking with Sylvia. What "nice man" had the key to private rooms in this mansion beside Bowen? Ah…whatever…
I hastily got back into the tub and stopped exposing myself to Mila. I honestly felt that I should have felt more embarrassed about this situation, but I didn't. Perhaps I truly felt that she was my daughter now…maybe. Besides, it's not like I haven't been washing Mila for months…it's just that we always did it separately, and I never bathed with her…anyway!
I just shook my head and splashed my face with water again. "Why are you standing there in the doorway, Mila? Go now. I'm washing up! I'll be out in a min—Mila?! Wait a second, what are—"
Thud.
Splash.
"Mila, are you okay?!" I shouted.
I grabbed her by the side and lifted her out of the water. The bathroom filled with the sound of adorable giggles as I turned her to face me. Thankfully she seemed unharmed. I swear I only looked away for a moment, and she somehow managed to strip that fast and started running. Mila quite literally tossed herself into the tub so hard her hip smacked into the side and made a loud thud noise.
"What's gotten into you?" I murmured with a sigh of relief.
"I wanted to take a bath with Daddy! I haven't had one in forever!" Mila whined.
"Ah…that's true. I've been a bit busy… sorry."
I let Mila back into the water, and she let out a satisfied groan as she sank into the tub. "It's okay." Then Mila turned her head slightly and looked back at me. "Daddy, are you sad?"
"Sad? No…I don't think I am. Why? Do I look sad?"
Mila nodded her head. "Then are you thinking? Grandpa says you think a lot."
Oh, is that so?
"I suppose I'm thinking, yes. I have much to think about these days."
"What are you thinking about?" she asked curiously.
I ran my hand through her orange hair as she asked me that question. "Honestly, a lot of things."
Mila scooted herself to the bottom of the tub so she faced me. The tub was rather deep, so even sitting on her butt, she was barely at neck level. It was a rather adorable sight.
Mila puffed her cheeks out and looked at me expectantly while making an annoyed huff. I just chuckled. Well, I can't exactly foist all my emotional baggage onto her. That would be unfair in just about every sense of the word. So…
"Love, I've been thinking about love recently," I said softly, not really expecting an answer.
Mila frowned slightly, but it turned into a reflective sort of look. Her little ears twitched twice, and then eventually, her big dark blue eyes met mine. "Love? I love you," she stated with pure conviction. I didn't sense even a single bit of hesitation in her voice.
Eh?
My heart stopped in my chest for a moment, and I couldn't help but feel stunned by her words. But as quickly as that happened, that feeling vanished and was replaced with something different.
I've been together with Mila for a long time. We've been through a whole lot in that short amount of time. Enough that she calls me her father and I consider her to be my daughter. Yet…she has never told me she loved me.
And I've never told her that I love her… have I?
I patted her on the head, and the words came out of my mouth easily. "I love you too, Mila."
Mila's big eyes went wide, and a genuine ear-to-ear smile bloomed on her flushed face. It was beautiful, and it filled my heart with nothing but pure happiness to see her react like that. I wasn't sure if Mila was aware of what love was when I considered her upbringing. But perhaps she did, as her little cheetah tail started smacking the water, and then—what the? What's that noise?
It's like…a cat purring mixed with a meow…that sounds like a bird chirping? And…it's coming from Mila? Huh?
I put my hands on her side, and sure enough, I felt her chest rattling with the noise as she continued to beam her smile at me. I've never once heard this sound in my life, let alone from Mila. Is this…something unique to Mila? Should I be worried?
No…I don't think I should. She seemed extremely happy right now. Her ears and tail haven't stopped moving for a second.
I just did my best to return her smile, and it didn't feel forced at all. I was happy, and she was happy. That's all that mattered.
I couldn't believe I was uncertain of what my future would look like and what I would do. The answer was simple, and it's been in front of me for a long time. I'm not a runaway slave anymore, wanted by the City States. I'm a free man and a father to this adorable little girl.
It's probably about time I start acting like a real father. Hah…
I chuckled again to myself, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Even my mouth was starting to hurt from smiling so much as I remembered the dream I had in the dungeon, the one the Slime forced me to have. Apollo's words rang in my head.
"And surely the Commander is going to have a lot to learn so there is no way he can be the number one father saying otherwise would be a lie."
It seems like even a monster knew I would be a second-rate father.
I picked Mila up again and turned her away from me so I could wash her hair.The sound she was making died down a little, but I had to grab her tail gently.
"Mila, I can't wash your hair if your tail keeps smacking me in the face," I said softly.
"Sorry…" she pouted sheepishly, her tail only slowing down slightly.
"It's fine," I said after scooping some water onto her head.
I made sure to heat the water back up to a comfortable temperature and set to work cleaning her hair. I would grab the shampoo in a moment, but I wanted to take this time and enjoy the moment a bit longer.
"Say, Mila…what do you want to do?" She let out a confused grunt at my question.
Ah…perhaps that was a bit vague.
"Where do you want to live?" I asked, hopefully, a much simpler question.
"With you and Sylvia and Rosemary and Uncle Bowen and Aunt Lin and—" Mila started listing off quite a few names.
It brought great joy to me knowing that she could mention this many people's names. People that cared about her or, at the very least, would protect her. A few months ago, I was sure that list must have been at zero.
Mila named just about everyone. Even my family…well…besides one person. "What about Grandpa?"
She neglected to mention my father…
Mila shrugged. "Yeah, him too, I guess," she added casually.
Ouch…don't let Dad hear that Mila…he may just break down permanently.
Then Mila's ears perked up a bit. "Oh! I want to live in a big tower!"
"A big tower…" I muttered.
Where did that come from? Where is she…oh…that fantasy novel. The holy knight ended up living with his wives in a big tower after they vanquished the Vampire lord, huh?
"Well, how big is the tower?" I asked.
"Really big!" Mia shouted enthusiastically.
"How big is really big?"
"Bigger than this house!"
"Oh? And how many floors are in the tower?"
"Floors? Like to walk on? I don't know…I've never thought about it…at least a hundred…" she mumbled to herself.
Sheesh, a hundred floors? Talk about a tough customer. I think we are a few hundred years before having triple-digit floor buildings. But a tower…
That could be a fun dream. Not sure if it's possible, but it's always good for a child to have an active imagination.
—
Mila and I finished our bath, mostly just talking about random things and catching up. And by talking, I mean she did most of it, but it felt good spending time with her regardless. Of course, now it was time to keep my other promise.
Mila, Dallin, and apparently, the rest of my family all finished getting ready, and we were all on our way to the market. I had originally planned to just go with Dallin and Mila, but my brother ended up roping in Grandpa. And that started the eventual chain of everybody wanting to go. Not that it bothered me. Spending time with my family was something I missed, even if Grandpa sent me death glares every few seconds.
We walked through the gates of Forward University and made our way into town. Even though it was the afternoon in the middle of a weekday, there were still plenty of people out and about. And our little group, sure enough, attracted a whole lot of attention.
What a sight we must be…they could at least try and hide their whispering.
It was mostly about me, but naturally, I heard plenty of talk about my family. Even some mutterings of people making connections that perhaps this tall Dark Elf and beautiful High Elf woman were my mother and father. And, of course, they would be correct. But after people stopped talking about me, it was like their eyes naturally turned to Sylvia.
And there were plenty of surprised oos and awes—even a few muffled screams. The poor gate guard even started sweating as she looked over Sylvia's papers.
Regardless it was to be expected, and it hardly iimpeded our progress. This would probably be the norm for some time as word got out about Sylvia's eyes. How we would explain that to the public remained to be seen…but I planned on doing something about it.
Thankfully our conversations were on the lighter side. We were talking about this or that. Dallin would occasionally tug on Grandpa's arm and ask him a question about something.
The weather was fair. The atmosphere was pleasant. Being at peace was nice. This was just nice in general…well, almost everything was.
Sylvia walked lazily next to me, seemingly somewhat tired from her conversation with Bowen. Apparently, she had to physically separate herself from him and assure him that they could talk again. But there seemed to be something bothering her.
"What's the matter?" I asked the brooding Vampire.
"It's noth—well, it's something," she groaned while looking over at me. "Bowen showed me a notebook…it was really old, and he said it was from Nul. But I couldn't read a single word of it. It was in a language I'd never seen before."
A book from Nul that Sylvia can't read, huh?
I raised an eyebrow at that. "A notebook? That's what's bothering you so much?"
Sylvia shot me an annoyed look. "Obviously not," she huffed. "It's just…I swear that notebook seems familiar. For the life of me, I just can't remember where I've seen it, though, and it's ticking me off! It feels like I should know where but I just…can't place it! Argh!"
Sylvia's frustrated growl made some of the passersby glance over nervously. "Relax, Sylvia…you are causing a scene."
Sylvia glared at the people watching her. "Like I care about them. Do they think I can't hear all those nasty things they are saying about me?"
The young Vampire let out a grunt of annoyance as she looked away from the group. "Maybe I should just rip their arms off and—"
"Sylvia!" I hissed under my breath.
She puffed out her cheeks at me. "I was just joking…I wouldn't really do that," she said in a singsong voice.
If I'm going to try and change her image, people can't hear her talking about ripping their damn arms off. I swear…when did she get so violent?
Is this my fault?
"Still…what if somebody overheard you?" I questioned.
She just shrugged, and I didn't miss the smile that twitched at the corner of her lips. She was about to answer me with some snarky remark when a voice cut through the crowd.
"Yo! Kaladin, you sure know how to rile a crowd. I heard people whispering about the Dragon Slayer like four streets down," Varnir said as he walked away from a stall with a crisp yellow apple in his hand. "Mila, Syl—" he stopped mid-sentence with a grunt.
Varnir just gazed over Sylvia despite making clear and obvious eye contact with her. "Ignoring me isn't going to make me go away, Varnir," Sylvia huffed.
"If I pretend that I saw nothing, the problem will cease to be a problem," Varnir said quickly as he waved to Mila, ignoring Sylvia again.
Mila returned the wave as she had been walking next to Dallin and Mom for some time. But perhaps she smelled Varnir and came to see him.
I eyed him suspiciously as it was the middle of a weekday. I knew for a fact that Varnir had class. So he probably shouldn't be missing class. Not that I can verbally make that complaint, considering how I'm doing exactly that myself…
"Hey, don't give me that look! We aren't dodging school or anything, plus we are on a little mission. Professor Garrison took a few days off because…well, probably because of all of you," Varnir said defensively as he looked at my family.
We? Oh…I see.
Varnir's pink eyes kept gazing at my mother and father, and a slight frown creased his lips. It wasn't a disappointed or even angry frown. More like he was in deep thought. The first person to step forward was my father, of all people.
"Those eyes…your face… you are Pollah's son, aren't you?"
Varner's eyes went wide. "You…know my father, uh, Sir!?" he asked in disbelief. Then Varnir straightened his back and nervously fidgeted with his hand. " I mean, Sir Shadowstorm, or is it Lord Shadowstorm? Or Chief Shadowstorm? Or is it Chief Shadowheart? I uh…."
Dad interrupted Varnir's rambling with a chuckle as he smiled kindly at him. "No need to worry about it. I'm just a father nowadays. So feel free to call me Mr. Shadowheart or just Alanis. Can't have my son's friend act on ceremony now, can I?" he told Varnir softly while patting him on the shoulder.
"Ah…yeah…" Varnir muttered, his surprised face still not disappearing.
My father must be a celebrity of some type for the Dark Elves. Well, perhaps celebrity is the wrong word. He must have been more like a hero that died in the battle.
"Varnir is your name, right? Your father mentioned naming you after your grandfather if he had a son. And, of course, I know your father. He is a good man, and I always relied on him to repair my gear after a battle. So how is he these days?" Dad asked with a kind smile.
A cheeky smile replaced his look of surprise as Varnir looked over at me. "He's doing well, Sir…he used to talk about you a lot. I never imagined you were Kaladin's father…what happened to him?"
A hearty laugh echoed behind me, followed by a coughing fit. "I told you I liked this guy!" Padraic chuckled.
"I see why," Grandpa said in between coughs.
Sigh…these two…
Dad scratched the back of his head and chuckled awkwardly. "Let's just say he took after his mother more."
And speaking of Mom…
She was staring forward into what most would assume to be nothingness. Her expression was blank as if she wasn't actually in the right of mind. But I knew. I just wondered why she was deciding to hide herself all of a sudden. I suppose she is still nervous even after all this time.
"Tsarra, you know it's rude to hide from people who are right in front of you?" I said aloud into the open space next to Varnir.
"Damn…" Varnir mumbled under his breath as he looked over at her with an apologetic smile.
Tsarra's illusion ended with a slight squeak from her, but instead of shying away, she shot forward toward Mom. The two were almost face to face, and now that I could see them side by side…
I really don't see that much of a resemblance.
I suppose they are half-sisters separated by almost three hundred years…not that it should matter. But their facial structure is just so different from each other. I mean, they both have that elegant High Elf look to them, but…it's just not the same.
Even Tsarra's pale yellow eye lacks the gold from Mom. Is that a genetic abnormality? If Tsarra's father was the former Emperor of Tel'an'duth, there was no guarantee they would have the same eye color. Mmm…
A bitter smile appeared on my mom's face. "I see…so you must be his last child, huh?"
Tsarra looked a bit confused as she nervously twiddled her fingers together. "Ar—r—are you—"
"No need to be nervous, Tsarra. After all, I am your older sister."
Ah, so I guess it's double-confirmed now, huh? Not that there was any doubt about it.
Tsarra's heterochromatic eyes looked over at me nervously. "D—does that mean I'm…"
"That you're my aunt?" I answered for her. "Sure looks like it," I said, trying to smile at her to calm her down.
Unfortunately, that seemed to have had the opposite effect. Tsarra's face turned as red as her hair as she covered her face with her long pale fingers. Sylvia, next to me, let out a snicker as she stood there with her hands on her hips and a look of superiority planted on her face. Varnir just groaned at the sight.
"Looks like all of you are having fun, " a familiar voice called out to us.
Ah, so there were two more to the "we"?
Mila, who had remained quiet after her meat skewer coma, waddled off to the voice. "Aunt Lin! Jen!"
"Aunt Lin?" my mother gasped in surprise.
Lin was standing tall as she pushed what could only be described as a wheelchair. And sitting in the chair was a frail-looking little girl. Well, she was only little because she was a half-Dwarf.
Her light brown hair had lost its shine, and her fingers looked too slim to belong to a Dwarf. Her face was gaunt, but it had improved drastically since I first saw her. Unfortunately, it would still be a considerable amount of time until Jen made a full recovery.
My…treatment…was rather aggressive. But she regained consciousness on the third administration of the drug. It was brutal but being back in her own mind was the preferable state of being. It was just going to take some time.
Mila ran up to Jen, and Jen just smiled weakly as she placed her hand on top of her hand and moved it around slowly. "Hello again, Mila…"
Somebody bumped into my back, and I looked down to find Padraic walking forward with wide eyes.
What the?