The night Galahad was born, a storm raged across the capital of Valdoria. Rain struck the tall windows of the Aldine estate while thunder rolled across the sky like distant war drums. Inside the manor's private chamber, servants moved quickly as the midwives worked to guide the noblewoman through the final moments of labor.
Lady Elenora Aldine cried out as another wave of pain struck her. Her husband, Lord Marcus Aldine, stood beside the bed, gripping her hand tightly, his normally calm expression strained with worry.
"Just breathe," Marcus said quietly. "It will be over soon."
The midwife nodded while continuing her work. "The child is almost here, my lord."
Another cry filled the chamber, and moments later the sharp voice of a newborn echoed through the room. The midwife carefully lifted the child into her arms before wrapping him in a clean cloth.
Marcus let out a slow breath of relief.
"Is the child healthy?"
The midwife hesitated.
Her expression shifted slightly as she stepped toward the bed and placed the child in Elenora's arms.
The baby cried loudly as his small body trembled against the cloth.
Marcus stepped closer to look at his son, but the moment his eyes fell on the child, his expression froze.
The boy had only one arm.
Where his left arm should have been, there was nothing but smooth skin at the shoulder.
Elenora noticed it moments later. Her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed the child's dark hair away from his face.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
The storm outside slowly faded into distant thunder.
Marcus finally broke the silence.
"It may not mean anything."
His voice lacked confidence.
Elenora looked down at the child again, forcing herself to hold hope.
"The gods test those they favor," she said softly. "Perhaps this means he will receive a powerful blessing."
Marcus nodded slowly.
In their world, every child received a blessing from the gods once they reached the proper age. Some blessings were weak, while others shaped the future of entire kingdoms.
If the gods favored their son, his missing arm might not matter.
Marcus placed a hand on the child's head.
"His name will be Galahad."
The newborn's cries slowly faded as exhaustion took him, and within minutes, he drifted into sleep.
For a brief moment, his parents allowed themselves to believe everything would be fine.
The early years of Galahad Aldine's life passed quietly inside the walls of the estate.
Despite being born into one of the kingdom's noble houses, he rarely saw his parents. Most of his care fell to a maid named Clara, a kind young woman who had been assigned to raise the child.
Clara fed him, bathed him, and carried him through the long halls of the manor.
When Galahad first began trying to walk, it quickly became clear that his missing arm made balancing difficult. He stumbled constantly, falling again and again across the polished stone floors.
Even so, he never stopped trying.
Clara often watched with concern as the small boy struggled back to his feet.
"You can take your time," she would say gently while helping him stand.
But Galahad ignored her every time.
By the age of four, he could finally walk on his own, though his movements were still clumsy compared to those of other children.
One afternoon, Marcus happened to pass through the courtyard and noticed the boy swinging a wooden sword.
Galahad held the weapon awkwardly in his single hand, his stance unstable as he tried to mimic the knights he had seen training.
The sword slipped from his grip after only a few swings.
Marcus watched silently before turning away.
"This is pointless," he muttered.
From that day forward, Galahad rarely saw his father again.
When Galahad turned five, the Aldine family invited a saint to perform the blessing ceremony.
Across the kingdom, it was a sacred tradition. Every child stood before a saint or priest so their divine blessing could awaken.
Candles burned softly inside the estate's chapel while the elderly saint stood before the altar, her white robes glowing faintly with divine energy.
Galahad stood quietly beside Clara while his parents watched from behind.
The saint approached slowly.
"Bring the child forward."
Marcus guided Galahad toward the altar.
The saint raised her hand, divine light gathering around her palm before she placed it gently against the boy's forehead.
The chapel fell silent.
Several seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
The saint frowned slightly before focusing again.
Still nothing.
The divine light faded.
Marcus spoke sharply.
"Well?"
The saint slowly lowered her hand.
"This child… has no blessing."
The words hung in the air like a blade.
Elenora stared at Galahad in disbelief.
"That cannot be possible," Marcus said. "Every child receives a blessing."
The saint shook her head.
"Not this one."
Her voice remained calm, but her eyes carried a distant look.
"This child is not favored by the gods."
Marcus slowly looked down at the boy.
For the first time since Galahad's birth, there was no trace of hope left in his eyes.
Only disgust.
Elenora turned her face away.
From that day forward, Galahad Aldine was no longer treated as a member of the family.
A few weeks later, Clara took Galahad into the city to buy supplies.
The streets were crowded with merchants and travelers while the sounds of the marketplace filled the air. Galahad walked beside her quietly, holding onto the edge of her dress as they moved through the crowd.
He looked around with curiosity at the armor shops and weapon stalls.
For a moment, the world felt exciting.
Then Clara suddenly stopped walking.
Galahad looked up at her.
The maid slowly knelt down in front of him.
Her hands trembled slightly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Before he could ask what she meant, she gently removed his hand from her dress.
Then she stood up.
And walked away.
At first, Galahad thought she would come back.
He waited.
Minutes passed.
Then hours.
The sun slowly began to set as the crowds around him faded.
But Clara never returned.
As night fell over the city, the five-year-old boy with one arm sat alone in the street.
And for the first time in his life, Galahad Aldine realized he had been abandoned.