She explained the details to him, listing out everything the system had told her.
Lucian listened carefully, nodding as she spoke. "That’s great," he said with a small smile. "So ... do you want to test your new ability?"
Medeia frowned. "Test it? I don’t think anyone’s injured right now."
All the wounded soldiers had already been treated by Joy and Sister Jeanne, so there wasn’t anyone left for her to heal.
Lucian shrugged casually. "I could just make a small cut on my hand. Then you can try healing me."
Medeia’s eyes widened. "No, you don’t have to—"
Before she could finish, Lucian had already pulled out a small dagger and made a quick slice across his palm.
The cut wasn’t deep, but blood still began to drip slowly from his hand.
"Are you insane?!" Medeia snapped, her voice was loud enough to startle Sierra, who flinched in her arms.
"It’s just a small cut," Lucian said lightly, as if it was no big deal. "You can heal me now, right?"
Medeia let out an annoyed breath and grabbed his hand, pulling it toward her.
"You really didn’t have to do that," she muttered, clearly irritated. "Just because I can heal people doesn’t mean you should be hurting yourself."
[Skill Activation: Moonlit Stream Activated.]
A soft stream of glowing water flowed from her palm, cool and gentle. It wrapped around the cut like a ribbon of light, soaking into his skin.
Within seconds, the wound began to fade, the skin slowly closing up until there wasn’t even a scar left behind.
If the injury had been worse, she probably wouldn’t have been able to heal it completely, not unless she kept leveling up her skill.
Lucian turned his hand over, inspecting the flawless skin. "Well ... that’s impressive."
Medeia narrowed her eyes. "Next time, don’t offer yourself up like a test subject. Just find someone else, alright?"
Maybe she could ask Lucian to injure a bad guy, and then Medeia could use him as her test subject.
That sounded fair, didn’t it?
If someone was going to be hurt, it might as well be someone who deserved it.
Medeia leaned back slightly, glancing at her hand, the same one that had just healed Lucian’s wound with ease.
She had spent so much of her life destroying things, breaking people down, using her power to win fights, not save lives.
She could heal people.
"Your water feels really nice," Lucian said softly as he gently took Medeia’s hand and wrapped his own around it. "I guess now, I don’t have to worry about getting hurt... not as long as you’re around."
Medeia gave him a look. "Lucian, my healing ability isn’t that powerful yet," she said. "So don’t go throwing yourself into danger thinking I’ll just fix you. Try not to get hurt in the first place, alright?"
Just as Lucian was about to respond, a small sound cut through the quietness. "A ... aa ..."
They both looked down.
Sierra had placed her tiny hand right on top of theirs. Her little fingers rested gently over their joined hands, as if she wanted to be a part of it too.
The gesture was so small ... but it hit them both like a wave of warmth straight to the heart.
Medeia smiled softly. "You’re trying to tell your dad to be careful too, aren’t you?"
Lucian blinked, caught off guard by her words.
She had used "Papa" before, usually when talking to Bear.
But this time ... it felt different.
Lucian tilted his head slightly, his voice soft. "Did you just call me ... Dad?"
Medeia shrugged. "Well, it’s not exactly new, is it? I mean, I’ve called you ’Daddy’ before—"
"No," Lucian cut her off. "That’s different."
Medeia laughed softly, and for once, she wasn’t joking.
"Alright, I know it’s different." Her voice grew gentler. "But tell me I’m wrong. We’ve been taking care of Sierra all this time ... and she’s so attached to us. Even if we leave her for a little while, she cries like her whole world is falling apart."
She looked down at the sleeping child in her arms, brushing a loose strand of hair from Sierra’s forehead. "Honestly, at first ... I thought I’d just watch over her until she could speak. Or at least until she felt emotionally stable."
She paused, her expression tightening slightly. "But Lucian ..." Her voice grew quieter. "Just the idea of handing her over to someone else ... It makes my chest feel tight. Like I can’t breathe."
Medeia’s gaze dropped, her thumb gently rubbing Sierra’s tiny hand. "It reminds me of something I did a long time ago," she whispered.
"After I gave birth to my children ... I sent them away." Her voice cracked just a little. "I told my most trusted people to take them somewhere safe. Far away from their father. Somewhere he couldn’t hurt them."
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the memory wash over her like a wave. "I did it to protect them. But it still felt like I was tearing a part of myself out."
She knew things were different now.
If she handed Sierra over to someone else, it wouldn’t be because she was trying to protect her from danger, but it would be because her part was done.
But still, it felt wrong.
"Do you ... want to do it?" Medeia asked softly, her voice uncertain. "Be her parents ... officially?"
Lucian leaned in, brushing his fingers gently through Sierra’s hair. "Haven’t we already been her parents from the beginning?" he said with a smile. "In a world , we don’t need paperwork to adopt a child."
They both fell silent for a moment, listening to the sound of the fire crackling nearby, then Lucian whispered to Sierra, "So now... you can call her Mom." He continued, "From now on, you’ll live with Mommy and Daddy."
Something stirred deep inside Medeia when she heard that word. She had been a mother so many times before, but not once, not even once, had she heard her children call her "Mother," "Mom," or "Mommy."
She had always been a mother without a child.