The Weight of Legacy

The worst kinds of moral conundrums were the ones where it really felt like drawing a conclusion alone wouldn't make her feel any better.

If Malwine was being honest to herself, she knew she shouldn't have been surprised. The widow had dealt with her fair share of asshole ancestors, both for her own sake and that of others. But those ancestors had been confined to history, and paper, amounting to little more than past concepts in the grand scheme of things. While emotions could get complex at times, at the end of the day, those people were always already dead. And they would stay dead.

Early into her new life, she'd briefly pondered that question. Simply having resurrection as a possibility made the idea of being able to use it yet not doing so feel wrong. It felt like a willful truncation of possibilities, even if the actual death was unrelated. Malwine hadn't discussed the topic of death with Veit as deeply as she'd wished she had. He did not seem particularly fond of it—and probably for good reason, given how he clearly still resented his wife's death.

As far as she could tell, people in this world treated topics like afterlives and reincarnation as nothing but fiction. Thanks to obits, life wasn't necessarily the end, but that was it. The end of the line came when obits dissolved, and few people were actually resurrected. Back in her Earth, the widow had held similar views, at least towards death. She hadn't allowed herself the expectation that something would happen after she died, so this had been a surprise, and nowadays, she found herself falling back on this world's beliefs.

Changing her mind now about resurrecting Katrina would be a fairly serious decision, even if she was under no obligation to do it in the first place—not to mention, she had time.

I don't know why this is being such a headache. It isn't… Malwine was starting to loathe how easily she could spiral when it came to topics like these. It was awfully easy to just start debating whether she should be doing anything.

Not doing anything would mean sealing her grandmother's fate, after all her efforts. Granted, she'd only gotten the obit in the first place due to the trial, not because she'd been specifically seeking it, since then, she'd been all but committed to the idea as one of her long, long term goals.

Sighing, Malwine clung to that specific thought there like a lifeline—the trial. Previously her sole source of information, limited as it was. She didn't actually know much about her grandmother. True, she also didn't know just what had happened when her grandparents and the rest of Zayden's party had wiped out a settlement. She was undoubtedly missing countless details about it.

The problem was that, judging by how Anselm had stopped just short of outright stating they'd killed even the children there, Malwine was pretty certain that no amount of missing details could excuse this. She wasn't sure just how whichever personal beliefs on her uncle's part might have affected his stance towards the fell, but some things were just pretty cut and dry.

In this life, she didn't hate her living family by default, and that was quite the bar to clear. However, there was no scenario in which she could just ignore that type of thing. People here didn't bat an any actions taken against the fell as justified because they lacked souls, and Malwine found she didn't care if that was a cultural thing, or if things were different in this world. Being faced with what amounted to 'they got away with killing kids because those had no souls anyway' left a terrible taste in her mouth. Even if they truly were soulless… Anselm had been right, this was just a huge source of discomfort.

Summoning the obit, then dismissing it again, Malwine groaned. At minimum, she'd be pausing her plans, not accruing any more [Toll] for the obit's sake—not that she'd been doing that consistently anyway.

Is this your fucking fault, Katrina? She wanted to hope there'd be no link between the matter that Katrina had died fighting the fell and Beryl's curse. She wanted to believe her mother had simply been unfairly targeted. The inconsistency in {Foresight}'s tier served to back that. Her initial impression had been that perhaps Anselm had been wrong, simply having not known Beryl had an Affinity—maybe she hid it or something.

But Malwine knew better than most that Affinities could be recovered. Perhaps her uncle was right about Beryl not having been born with an Affinity. In that case, she doubted the two events would be connected.

Though it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if Katrina got killed because someone wanted revenge, all the while it having nothing to do with whatever happened with Beryl later.

For now, she'd continue to treat Katrina's fatal fight as unrelated to Beryl being cursed. The time difference alone helped solidify that conclusion. Katrina died to people from Flōsblome's Court, though.

It wasn't blatant anywhere, but those fell who were slain by Katrina during the trial had all shared the Fortuneteller of the Unfathomable <Word> Class—a Class with a {Foresight} Root. And Veit had confirmed to her that the Court Flōsblome belonged to was the Banate Court of Unfathomable Futures.

That was unlikely to be a coincidence.

Ugh. She could feel just how easy some dots might be to connect, if tentatively, but Malwine refused to make the jump. She didn't want to draw a conclusion based purely off theories, especially not one that would undoubtedly affect her future decisions.

With her trials for both Katrina and Kristian done, her potential sources of information had all but dried up. Anything else she could currently aim for would be too recent to net her some information on this.

I guess there's also the trial for OBeryl. Malwine tried not to roll her eyes. Teach was far from her favorite person—while details of that trial had gotten foggier with time, it was pretty hard to forget the woman had really gone and mentioned it was so surprising that the seafarers were capable of building guesthouses. She and Margaret Smith would have probably gotten along.

Then again, Teach suggested not planting the Root. Letting it fade… Malwine scowled, wishing she had a clearer recollection of that trial. Something gnawed at the back of her mind, details she couldn't quite make out—but she knew there had been something there, something that might not have made much sense to her then but should very much have caught her eye by now. Katrina didn't have {Foresight} planted, did she? No… Just {Ore}.

Her frown deepened. Was that it? Had Katrina, in not planting it, somehow prevented the Affinity from being passed on?

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Also, her realizations continued, Teach was a Forger.

Biting her lip, Malwine found herself considering resuming the trials—or at least just redoing this one. She was more than a bit wary of resolving it an a way that didn't leave her completely satisfied, like what happened with Kristian's, but the truth was, her trial for OBeryl had been among the first she ever tried.

Her knowledge back then might as well have been nonexistent compared to now. Just how many potential clues must she have missed?

…I'm really going for this, aren't I?

Malwine resolved to do just that before she could convince herself to back out.

The trial for OBeryl felt like a liminal space of sorts. Somewhere she'd been to before, yet so long ago that it was barely familiar. Malwine pushed forwards, past the louver door just as she had back then.

Before Teach could speak, she chose to take the initiative. "Greetings. I have to say, I'm pretty lost, and I've never had an encounter like this," Malwine lied. "Is there any way we should be going about this?"

The eclectic woman did not hesitate. "Why, yes! I believe we should conduct this in the matter of seafarers."

"Ah, I see. What should I be calling you, then?"

Teach's joy seemed palpable despite her features being hidden. "A learned woman! You might find my suggestion amusing, but I already had it in mind. Call me Teach, and if it is fine by you, I shall call you Learn."

I honestly can't tell if my approach makes these things adapt, or if I've actually gotten any better at this.

"Very well, Teach," Malwine nodded. It was somewhat of a relief—the intrusive thought that she might accidentally call Teach, well, Teach before the woman introduced herself had crossed her mind. "I'm not sure what to start with, though I'm under the impression you're here to advise me. One thing I was wondering—is it true that not planting that Affinity a Root keeps it from being passed on? I heard that before, and I'm curious."

"That is correct, dear. Though it's far from guaranteed, and you must not take it as a Mana Source at all," Teach confirmed. How the woman behaved when not fully directing the conversation was somewhat jarring—she seemed willing to treat 'Learn' with more respectfulness than the first time.

"Good to know," Malwine nodded. She'd mostly been theorizing, but it was vindicating to see Teach agreed. Her uncle's claim would have been a bit too odd otherwise, though now she found herself growing curious as to just how he'd known Katrina had actively done something to keep her children from getting her Affinities. Though this wouldn't explain {Ore} never being passed on…

Teach seemed to dislike her extended silence there. "If you so wish, you may address your concerns, and we can start from there. I am at your disposal, as you might have been told."

"Honestly, I barely got told anything. Just that I'd be meeting you here in… Actually, I didn't consult the map. I trust my carriage driver," she knew she risked sounding spoiled, but her own family seemed to treat the method of transportation as perfectly normal.

Thankfully, Teach just laughed. "You are not the first to be baffled, don't worry about it. Regnąfels is small compared to other settlements, but I assure you, it'd make an enjoyable location for relaxation under other circumstances. If you can afford to, I actually recommend you come here later, in your own time."

"Thank you—and I'll consider it," Malwine tried not to show her surprise. She'd known OBeryl was from Regnąfels—Regnąfels, in the surface—but she hadn't quite connected that to the setting of this trial. Perhaps this new knowledge was affecting her conclusions, introducing some bias, but now it did seem like the grass was much livelier here than under the waves. "I'll be short," she made an effort to sigh, settling for some extremely summarized truths. "I was born with a curse, as my mother got cursed for having the Affinity that shall go unnamed. My grandmother was slain by the seablooded, as well, though I know little about her. I suppose… I suppose the point of coming here was to ask for guidance on what to do."

While ridiculously oversimplified, she hadn't needed to tell a single lie. Her only real regret there was how she couldn't find a way to fit every single detail she had in mind without it sounding forced.

"Oh, girl, I can see why they sent you to me."

Hm. It was nice to have some confirmation that this meeting with Teach was something that was arranged by a third party, though Malwine couldn't quite press for more details without shooting herself in the foot.

Teach continued, her voice taking on an edge of joy as she spoke—it did not quite match the seriousness of the topic. "A horrid fate. But I will say, this is why I got into this line of work—I believe it was always meant to be my calling. You are not alone in having lost family in such a manner," she shook her head. "The seablooded kill because they do not understand the value of life. At the end of the day, we have souls and they do not. We can be resurrected—they cannot be. And to them, that means such a reaction is justified. Killing humans is not wrong, because they can always be brought back by other humans."

Malwine narrowed her eyes, not that the expression would be visible. Teach might not be the best person to discuss the morality of wiping whole fell settlements out with.

"No lie, I've yet to meet anyone who's been resurrected," she lied. "When it comes to conflict with the seablooded, for our Affinities, I've always been under the impression that we simply seek to wipe each other out."

"In a way, you are not wrong. There are those who seek to do to them what they have done to us, but I will say, revenge is a fruitless pursuit. We are much better served avoiding the matter entirely, when possible. While they can be killed decisively, they otherwise have forever to grow whichever Skills they have. In a confrontation, we do not stand a chance. Now, I will say… You may choose to disagree with me, but your mother was lucky, and that is what I was getting at. Few of those monsters would show restraint, in cursing rather than killing."

"I am indeed not very comforted by the thought," Malwine grumbled, for all she wouldn't have been born had Beryl been killed. Given her personal circumstances, and even if it was probably a slightly cold calculation on her part, the fact stood that she'd probably simply have been reborn as someone else.

"You will learn to live with it, dear," Teach said, coming off as way more ominous than she had any right to. "My first recommendation would be to get yourself a vocation. Something you can dedicate yourself to regardless of your curse's effects. If you are willing to share, what does your curse entail?"

"Minus ninety-nine percent to my attributes at all times."

"Oh, Sáinz guard me, that is dreadful."

That name. It rang a bell. A very distant bell. Malwine had definitely seen it someplace before, though—likely in something she read. But this was as good an opportunity as any, and she didn't want to let it go to waste.

"I've been dabbling in Forgery," Malwine told Teach. "It didn't strike me as something that'd require me to have the highest of attributes, though I admit I've hit a bit of a wall with it. I can't quite wrap my head around how the actual editing of Skills works, or how I'm supposed to do any Forging for others."

"Hm, your teachers must be failing you if you do not know that," Teach said. It wasn't lost to Malwine that she didn't address the matter that she very much was a Forger herself, though she still seemed poised to answer. "Though I can see why you would be given little guidance. With your curse, you will likely never amount to anything—"

Okay, that's just fucking rude.

"—but Forgery is an excellent choice for someone seeking a light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps the best choice. Yes, I commend it, for all I am biased about it. Let's see… Do you have any Affinities other than {Foresight}, that you may plant?"

"I do, yes."

"Then that is where you will need to start. Forging isn't something that is done entirely by Skills. You need to actually put the pieces together, and for that, you will have to take many a—"

The trial unraveled, having veered too far from its set path.

Oh, for fuck's sake! You can't put a Forger in front of me then just expect me to not try and ask about that.

As she returned to reality and opened her eyes, Malwine clenched her fists. It might have come off as dramatic had she not been alone in her room. She summoned the relevant panel just to glare at [Imitation Beyond Filiality].

Despite everything she'd gotten out of them, her bad experiences had her fuming. Trials are fucking bullshit.