Gaius eyed the large spread of dishes in front of him. “Sauce, sauce, more sauce, soup and…that’s a lot of skewers.”

“Some might tell you that skewers are the food item of the South, but that’s wrong,” said Fran. “Incomplete answers only get you partial credits. The correct answer for staple foods of the usual home in the South is sauce and skewers. No more, no less.”

“Is it alright for babies to be eating this richly?” Gaius asked.

“We naturally limit our intake for the children,” Lili replied, the little Jusis bouncing on her lap happily. “See?”

A small stack of lettuce was sitting in front of a kid-sized plate, which was seasoned moderately with the five different sauces. For some reason, little Jusis was staring more at the lettuce than at the meat, which simply made Gaius question his own assumptions about toddler meal preferences.

“Aunt, why is Jusis staring at the lettuce?” Isabelle asked.

“He likes it a lot,” Lili replied. “Don’t you, little fella?”

Jusis nodded. “Ywah!”

Gaius wanted to melt away at that sight, but letting out a little squeal didn’t gel well with his handsome and cool image, so he made do by holding Isabelle’s hand while no one was looking at them. Her return gaze told Gaius that she probably knew what he was thinking about, but her doting smile also revealed her own inner delight.

Children were great sources of joy and fun, when raised with care. Of course, one had to be a responsible parent first, a hurdle that could be said to be both hard and easy at the same time.

Picking up a skewer, he dipped it into a bowl of thick, luxurious brown sauce, before rolling the result on a plate of rice. The rice grains glowed with a delicious sheen, and Gaius licked his lips.

“Oh. Great. You’re…one of them.” One of Isabelle’s aunts rubbed her nose. “And Isabelle too, eh?”

“What’s wrong, Aunt Rachel?”

“Did we do something wrong?” Gaius tilted his head, before turning to Isabelle, who had an equally confused expression. He couldn’t quite tell what prompted that random utterance, other than the fact that a small lake of brown sauce had taken up residence on their field of white, fluffy rice.

Madam Amelie chuckled. “Gaius, Isabelle. Our family is currently in the middle of a …war of sorts. There are two factions. The Pure Rice Plate, and the Sauce Lake Paddy. The former believes that sauce and rice shouldn’t mix, while my group believes that sauce and rice go nearly as well as skewers.”

“Heresy, in other words.” Isabelle’s Aunt Rachel had a wintry smile on her face, one that hinted

A lightning storm seemed to brew above the table, and Gaius shifted his chair closer to Isabelle. He could deal with angry gods and whatnot, but when it came to family disputes…Gaius couldn’t wait to hightail it. Qi began to take form, creating small clouds of crackling lightning above the food, and Gaius began to regret his careless words.

Off at the side, Jusis clapped his hands and giggled. Fortunately, his mother had the sense to withdraw from the battlefield too, but this was truly a first for Gaius, who didn’t know that family politics could actually take place over food of all things.

“Mother, Rachel, you two are going to scare away poor Gaius,” Fran cut in. “Look at him and Isabelle, all white and shivering. Besides, why care about how others eat anyway? We’re a nation founded on freedom and equality. This should apply to food too.”

Isabelle’s grandmother tutted. “Very well. A truce then, my daughter-in-law?”

“Very well.” Rachel turned to Gaius, who was shivering as badly as Isabelle, and said, “Please do not take that as a personal attack on your own preferences.”

Gaius, who had been accused as a food heretic — whatever that was — along with Isabelle, nodded. “We’re…just going to dig in. Don’t mind us.”

He exchanged glances with a nonplussed Isabelle, who was probably also wondering why such a grudge was warranted, before picking up his spoon. Fortunately, the storm didn’t show any signs of returning, although Gaius couldn’t help but note that Aunt Rachel smacked her husband lightly every so often while they ate.

Before long, only a few skewers were left, but Jusis was already turning his shiny eyes over to them. Since no one in the Lorenze family wanted to contend with a toddler for food, everyone watched in silence as the little kid tried out one sauce after another.

“Is it me, or does Jusis look a little…dissatisfied?” Gaius narrowed his eyes slightly.

“I do see a small pout on his face,” Isabelle added. “Is something wrong?”

The toddler coughed twice as everyone looked at Jusis closely, and then let out a hiccup. A moment later, his eyes welled up, and he began to bawl. At the same time, a stink wafted out from his shorts, and Gaius relaxed.

It was just a call of nature, which, as a rule of thumb, wasn’t an issue compared to sudden bouts of vomiting. Granted, it wasn’t something that he experienced now, since Knights, as a rule of thumb, didn’t really have much to pass out. The same couldn’t be said for non-cultivators, Soldiers and Squires, so…

“Ah, babies.” Gaius watched on as Lili skillfully cleaned Jusis up with a liberal application of qi, and before long, the little guy was giggling again.

“He does seem rather carefree,” Isabelle observed, “considering that he just dirtied his shorts.”

Isabelle’s grandmother trotted over. “Isa, Gaius. Can you follow me in for a moment? There’s one last thing we need to do. There are some traditions to be upheld, but since everyone’s preoccupied with Jusis,”

“The Canvas of Memory?” Isabelle asked.

“Yes, Isa.” She lowered her voice. “Come on. Follow me.”

For some reason, Gaius had the feeling that Isabelle’s grandmother was being very secretive. He couldn’t quite understand why, but since she had spoken, Gaius saw no reason to refuse. It was entirely possible that she had noticed something special about Gaius, after all. The old people of Orb couldn’t be underestimated; Gaius had come into contact with this idea multiple times already.

Bringing them into a dimly-lit room, she stopped at a picture frame. The moment Gaius noticed it, a slight pressure pressed down on his shoulders, enough to make him shake somewhat.

“This is the Canvas of Memory,” Isabelle’s grandmother murmured. “One of the three Zeroth Armaments of the South…although, with your presence here, it should be one of the four.”

Five, actually. Gaius thought back to his Custodian. To be fair, however, he had never revealed his second Zeroth Armament to the public eye; any instances of him using it had been in situations where things had gotten messy.

“If I remember correctly, it enables the viewing of the last memories of people who had their name written here, correct?” Gaius asked.

He froze a moment after those words left his lips, as a sudden bolt of inspiration flickered through his mind. What did last memories here refer to? Could he view his own past life, and how he died?

Gaius felt his heartbeat speed up under his excitement, but that was the extent of it.

“Correct, Gaius.” Madam Amelie’s eyes were solemn. “But that is one of its many functions. The only reason why my children know it as only having that function is because I wanted it to be that way. Zeroth Armaments are weapons that have incredible effects on the soul, and by extension, energy. They are capable of not just harming Demigods, but also the gods of Orb.”

“And you’re telling me this…”

“I did my research,” Isabelle’s grandmother replied. “I know who you are now, Lost Star. You are…like my daughter.”

“Like mother?” Isabelle asked.

“Yes.” Madam Amelie closed her eyes for a moment. “She, like Gaius, came from Earth. Our family found her one day, wandering around the Lorenze estate, and took her in. She was…a unique person, someone with both charm and wit. It didn’t take long for my eldest son, your father, to fall in love with her. It was a long chase, since Emily was someone who didn’t ascribe to societal views of power.”

Gaius and Isabelle listened on closely. He could feel Isabelle’s shock, but her desire to know what happened to her mother was so overwhelming that she didn’t quite care about anything else.

“Eventually, your father won her over, and they got married,” Isabelle’s grandmother continued. “Unfortunately, as per noble traditions, a large ceremony was to be held, and a noble from a first-tier city fell in love too. The heir of House Aquitaine.

“Of course, we didn’t know anything about that back then. Emily revealed her origins, settled down with your father, and had Lia and you.” The old woman closed her eyes. “However, even being the mother of two had no effect on Aquitaine Junior, who came to Lorenze.”

“Lorenze?” Gaius asked. “Oh, right. The city’s name was changed to Lumari.”

A shadow flickered across Madam Amelie’s face, and Gaius had to restrain his urge to flinch.

“You’re correct. Back to the point, however. Aquitaine Junior made her an insulting proposal, and Emily’s refusal made him furious.” Her eyes opened, a murky light in their depths. “He tried to force himself on Emily, but by then, Emily was a Knight. Aquitaine Junior was just a Squire.”

“He failed?” Gaius asked.

“Father…was lied to?” Isabelle trembled.

Her grandmother nodded slowly.

“Emily came to me, explained everything, and prepared to hide until the storm blew over. However, at that time, the Holy Temple was already hot on her heels; they had a mandate to hunt down otherworlders like her.” The old woman took a deep breath. “If I had passed her the Canvas of Memory back then, the Holy Temple’s ambush would have failed.”

She took down the picture frame. “I will not repeat that mistake a second time.”

Isabelle gritted her teeth. “What happened, grandmother?”

“There was an ambush,” she replied. “House Aquitaine had close connections with the Holy Temple, and it wasn’t hard for Aquitaine Senior to get some of their inquisitors to help chase Emily down. A battle ensued at a beastfolk city, and when the dust ended, everyone involved went missing. You know the rest, Isa.”

“My father believed that the beastfolk kidnapped my mother.”

“Yes. Egged on by Aquitaine Junior, who had been an acquaintance of his back when they were schoolmates, he truly believed that the beastfolk was the culprit. More than once, I had tried to counsel him, but…” She shook her head. “In the end, your father met his end in the frontlines, in a fog of hatred. This is the truth behind your parents.”

Isabelle clenched a fist, and a tear ran down her cheek. Gaius wiped it off gently, and then held her close, trying to comfort her with his presence. She tried to hold it in, but within seconds, she had broken down into tears, crying into his chest.

Her grandmother watched on, a shade of profound sorrow on her face, before passing the Canvas of Memory to Gaius. “Take this. It will be of great use in the war to come. And…so that Isabelle can hear her father’s final words.”

“My…father?” Isabelle looked up. “Not…?”

“Yes. Your mother is still alive. I am not sure where, or how. But she is. The Canvas of Memory does not yet have her final words,” said the old woman. “And to be honest…if there’s anyone that can find her, I believe only someone like her would be able to.”

“Gaius,” Isabelle turned to him. “Can you…?”

“I’ll try,” Gaius replied on instinct. “I cannot guarantee that I will find her, but I will do my best. Grandmother. I need more information about what happened to Isabelle’s mother.”

“You will have it. Everything I’ve dug up over the years.” Her eyes glinted with a steely light. “Anything to find her.”

Gaius nodded. “I’ll do my best.”