Chapter 118 – A Question Never Asked (2)

Ilya stood behind Willow, her sharp gaze fixed on Arwen as the young woman continued to heal Lord Aulorn.

The wounds on the Lord Enforcer’s hands and arms slowly continued to heal. It was an agonisingly slow process, though Lord Aulorn was taking it surprisingly well – he didn’t show any signs of pain at all.

Midhir scowled. His lips formed a thin line as his gaze turned to Arwen. Healing resonances always caused pain. There was no way of avoiding it – healing and recovery was a painful process, even at their natural speed. Healing resonances did little more than just make that natural process faster, which caused all that pain to be felt at once. So, why wasn’t Lord Aulorn suffering from any pain?

With a quiet sigh, he glanced around. While it was good that they’d found Lord Aulorn, he couldn’t help but worry about Alistair. Had he been able to, he would have returned to where the tear was. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Alistair would have come there, but he hadn’t.

“Ilya,” he spoke without spending any more time.

His sister lifted her gaze, then circled around Arwen, Willow and Lord Aulorn before coming to stand next to him. She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to speak.

“Alistair isn’t here – I’m worried.” He kept his voice low. “I’m no use standing around like this, I should go look for him.”

Ilya pursed her lips and looked at him as if she was determining his capabilities. “Can you walk long enough without collapsing?” She finally asked.

Midhir nodded. “Yeah, but I can’t heal him if he’s wounded.” It wasn’t a possibility they could ignore after all.

Once again, she nodded. “Willow!” Her voice snapped like a whip, startling the young woman. “Go with him to look for your classmate.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “But my father-“

Ilya waved her hand dismissively. “You aren’t helping her,” she pointed at Arwen. “And your classmate may be gravely wounded. Midhir can’t use any more spiritual power, he’ll be useless in that case.”

Midhir winced. Her words held nothing but the truth, but she was rather rude about it.

“But-“

“It’s an order, Cadet.” Ilya’s sharp voice rang as she glared at Willow. “Now.”

With a visible flinch, Willow scrambled to get up. She shot Arwen a pleading glance, then hurried towards Midhir with a tight jaw.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“We’ll meet back at the inn if we don’t find you here,” Midhir said before they left with hasty steps.

As they climbed the hill, Willow was silent. She seemed to struggle with her steps and grasped her somewhat torn cloak with clenched hands.

“He’s in good hands.” His voice broke the charged silence about halfway up the hill.

“I know,” Willow muttered. “He’s dad. He’ll be fine,” she whispered with a catch in her voice. A few moments passed in silence, then she took a deep breath. “Midhir, I know I’m wounded and maybe a bit confused, but I swear I know her.” She hesitated. “I know of her.”

“Everyone knows of her,” he breathed out. There was really not much point in hiding who Ilya was – it really wasn’t possible to do that. Her statues and paintings were everywhere, and she often addressed the people of An’Larion personally. She acted in place of their mother, and never shied away from mingling with her people. Only shut-ins and those who lived in small, distant towns wouldn’t recognise her face.

Willow’s eyes lit up. “I know it!” She exclaimed. “She’s the crown princess.” She seemed excited for a moment before her eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms. “But Midhir, why are you calling the crown princess by her first name?”

He paused mid-step. “That’s…” his voice faded as he desperately tried to come up with something that would make sense. Anything but the truth. Ilya’s words echoed in his mind.

Don’t take up that mantle unless you must – you will never be able to return to how things were.

“And she called you by your name as well. She was worried about you. She cared…” Willow’s voice faded. Her arms dropped to her sides as she stared at him, lips parted and eyes slowly widening. “Midhir… are you close to her?” She asked after a moment of silence.

He looked away. He didn’t want to see the hurt in her eyes. He didn’t want her to look at him differently – not as a friend, but with fear.

She gasped. “Is she engaged with you?!”

“What? Eww, no!” He exclaimed instinctively.

Willow seemed confused for a moment. “I don’t understand.” She finally conceded. “Who are you?”

He let out a sigh. “Let’s keep looking.” He turned around, and as he continued their climb uphill, summoned the courage to talk.

“My family name, by birth and blood, is Induen. I was born the same year as you – five years before the disaster happened that sunk the thirteenth district into the earth. The prevailing theory, backed up with as much proof as the Imperial family and their enforcers could get, is that it was the Induen House that caused the disaster.”

Willow hastened her steps to walk next to him. She listened intently, with a dark, grim expression.

“I don’t remember much. I remember being rescued by enforcers, and I remember seeing a tear in the veil.” He breathed out a sigh. Just reminiscing about those times made his eyes hurt. He was glad his vision was normal now. “I’m the only surviving Induen. One of the very few survivors of the thirteenth district disaster. I had no family when they rescued me. And I wasn’t well – I don’t remember much, but I was very sick for a very long time.” He glanced at Willow, only to see her unchanged expression. “What do you do with the only heir of a cursed dynasty?”

Willow visibly flinched. “I don’t think that’s how you should look at it-“

“I don’t. But nobility does. They despise me. They despise my name. But blood carries power – through authority gained throughout the ages, and through the conjoining of dynasties. The Imperial family needed the Induen bloodline to survive. So, the empress took the orphaned child in as her adopted son and gave him her own name.”

Willow’s eyes shot wide open. “You-“

“My full name is Midhir Induen-Ardagh.” He finally said. “To Ilya, I’m nothing more than her little brother.”