The Weight of Legacy

Even though she wasn't that happy about how things were going, Hildegard would have probably told her she was doing okay if she knew. Adelheid hadn't told her about her two newer Affinities, since Sister Malwine wanted to keep her secrets. Apparently, it wasn't very normal for people to just get new Affinities suddenly.

Thinking about that…

Adelheid leaned in to whisper to Sister Matilda. "Sister, how did you get a new Affinity?"

She knew it hadn't been because of Sister Malwine—her big sister would have told her—so she was curious. If there was another way, she wanted to know. Another way existing would help them both, since her big sister couldn't just copy {Yore} and {Restitution} from her.

Apparently, the power she used thought they belonged to her greatgrandma, not to Adelheid even if she had them now. That was dumb, if you asked Adelheid, but she wasn't the one who made the rules.

Sister Matilda's eyes widened and she almost dropped her book, with it landing on her laps. The pages fluttered and she didn't have a bookmark there. Oops.

At the same time, Adelheid noticed Alaric's chair moved. He was standing up from the table where he and Theo had been playing. Speaking of Theo, maybe he ate something bad. He was looking a bit lighter in color and Adelheid was pretty sure that when people did that, it meant they were sick.

"Excuse me?" Brother Alaric asked. At least he didn't randomly use that weird 'pardon' word like Hildegard did. "What did you just say?"

"I was talking to Sister Matilda," Adelheid crossed her arms. She liked Brother Alaric, but listening to other people's conversations like that was rude! Since they'd all been hanging out, she hadn't really thought to hide before asking Sister Matilda—maybe she should've.

"Yes, but what did you just ask her?"

Adelheid ignored him, instead looking over at Theo, who was just sort of sliding off his chair. "Is he okay?"

"It sounded suspiciously like you were asking her how she got an Affinity?" Brother Alaric ignored her right back, looking between her and Sister Matilda. If he knew already, then why did he ask?

Huffing, Adelheid just wrapped her hands around herself even tighter. "It's a private conversation. Did whoever your Hildegard was not tell you it's rude to interrupt?"

Adelheid was mostly hoping he wouldn't answer. If she got him to not say anything, then she'd be free to find out what he was really thinking about. As she got older, she started wondering whether she was doing something bad, by doing this on purpose so much. She didn't always talk to people to have a conversation—she usually talked to them just to get them to not talk back.

People hid things when they spoke, sometimes. If they hid their words instead, then they couldn't hide things from her.

And it worked. What Brother Alaric hadn't said just popped into her head the moment she took a peek behind that hole in the wall that was their communication. He's knew immediately?

Adelheid blinked. She hadn't expected that. He wouldn't have spoken to ask if it was true or if he had heard her wrong. He believed Sister Matilda had an Affinity—she had to if Adelheid had asked that. That he didn't doubt, confused her.

"How?" she blinked in confusion, staring at her older brother. It probably gave away what she'd been doing, but he had an idea by now. He had to, with how often she'd been visiting since Matilda got here.

Since he didn't know what she'd learned from what he hadn't said, Brother Alaric just gave her a look. "How what?"

"I don't have any Affinities," Sister Matilda said, finally. With how she sounded, even Adelheid—when she'd been littler—wouldn't have believed her.

Adelheid wondered why she lied—was it because she wanted it to be secret, like Sister Malwine did? Adelheid frowned. This was her fault, wasn't it? She really should have hidden her question. Now she'd gotten Sister Matilda in trouble. "Sorry…"

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If she started hiding it now, would it work? Maybe if she hid the problem with her mind—if she imagined the secret wasn't out anymore—maybe it could be hidden then? She thought about [Hiddenness].

It felt like her best Skill whenever she needed to use it, even if Hildegard was being very mean and kept saying it was 'ridiculous'. The Aspect she'd gotten for level thirty probably wouldn't help much since she couldn't do anything about something Brother Alaric had already heard… or could she?!

Either way, [Hiddenness] helped with hiding stuff on its own, and this was 'stuff'. For sure. Adelheid focused on the Skill even more, trying to hide her question, hide the fact that she had asked it, and hide the fact that Brother Alaric had heard it.

She closed her eyes and everything so she could focus more, like her big sister did sometimes. It was usually annoying, like when she meditated—what was supposed to be the point? But now, it felt right? Sort of? So Adelheid kept her eyes closed.

Then something showed up, even though she hadn't opened them yet.

"What in any Devil's name are you doing?" Theo asked. He sounded mad. Opening her eyes, Adelheid was glad to see he'd spoken, even if Hildegard would have said that was a bad word—or phrase. Maybe he wasn't sick after all.

"Language!" Sister Matilda pointed at him, then lowered her finger. She looked confused by the fact that she had just done that.

Meanwhile, Brother Alaric looked scared. Scared enough that it scared Adelheid too. "Never do that again."

He ran a hand through his hair and walked back to where Theo sat. Adelheid didn't understand. Why was he suddenly scared?

It worked? She was still easily distracted, even now that she'd noticed this was something that happened often to her. One way or the other, she'd done it. She could speak to Sister Matilda now! She'd have to watch out for what her older brother didn't say next, to be sure, but this time, she'd hide her question before she asked again.

She wouldn't make the same mistake twice! That counted as learning! According to Hildegard, anyway.

But Brother Alaric pulled Theo to the side, giving her weird looks over his shoulder. Rude. They moved to another room, and now, Adelheid couldn't both follow them and talk with Sister Matilda…

Even though she'd gotten her wish, she noticed one thing—she wasn't feeling very happy anymore.

"We might have a problem," Alaric said. He was still pacing. For all he hadn't wished to come off as so rough in his tone, he'd been unable to help it—to claim he was 'freaked out', as Zayden would phrase it in his journals, would have been an understatement.

Theo pursed his lips. "What happened?" He examined the corners around them, as if Adelheid were to be hiding in the shadows there. The truth was that she probably could be, but so far, the noble boy seemed to have noticed the girl whenever she used her power, if she stuck around for long enough. That didn't mean they could keep her from spying on them, but it at least meant they knew when she did—which, admittedly, wasn't often.

But now was the perfect time to get paranoid.

"I am unsure, and that's the problem," Alaric practically spoke through his teeth. He was starting to wonder whether he might accidentally pull some strands of his hair out, at this rate, or damage his scalp. Still, he kept all but clawing at his head as if it'd help. "I remember she asked something. I remember being angry—at you, mind you," he shot the boy a look. "But I can't remember what it was."

"I hadn't asked before, given how intrusive it'd be, but what are her Affinities supposed to be?" Theo asked. "I won't pretend I'd fault a little kid using <Word> Skills like that, but it's likely related."

"Why a <Word> Skill?" Alaric was curious as to why his friend's mind had immediately gone there, though his eyes remained narrowed. He recalled enough to know he'd immediately thought of Theo when Adelheid had asked something of Matilda. The only reason he wasn't directing his frustrations at the boy now was the fact that Adelheid had seen fit not to explain—even if it meant going this far.

Wave take me, I hate this. He loved his siblings, but there was something terrifying about the idea that between one second and the next, he could find a detail like this missing from his own head. And it was just that—a detail, the specific question. Every other thought that'd come from it was scrambled but there, enough that he thought he might have been able to put it together through context, potentially.

But that primal discomfort remained.

"I felt it," Theo admitted. "Let's just say, I have a Skill specifically meant to… keep me safer from certain kinds of mental effects. It's not perfect, but it's supposed to keep my mind safe for long enough for me to exit whatever's triggering it. Whatever your sister did triggered it, just not in the same way a <Mind> Skill would have. It felt like social influence Skills sometimes do."

Alaric chose to ignore how this might have been the closest the boy had ever gotten to outright saying he was a high noble—who else would even think to have that kind of Skill since childhood? Important people, that was who. But he digressed. "Plucking a memory out of someone's head doesn't really sound like social influence, Theo."

He got a shrug in response. "Some Skills that use Charisma to influence the decisions of others are even worse than <Mind> Skills, if you ask me. That's why I ask what her Affinities are. I doubt it'd be Charisma with her age, but it has to be something that can bolster a Skill, because of how it felt."

"I don't actually know what her Affinities are," Alaric shook his head. "Bernie's the one whose family had potential, and she never talks about it."

"Oh?" Theo raised an eyebrow, clearly curious to learn more. Too bad—Alaric legitimately had little else to share on that front. Eventually, the boy seemed to accept he wasn't about to get to listen in on more Rīsan gossip. "No particular Affinity comes to mind, admittedly. I would guess it's related to whichever one she uses for stealth, though."

"How so?"

"Because it'd fit—if planted in <Word>, those things would probably go hand in hand, though it's impossible to tell without knowing what her Affinities are, exactly," Theo tipped his head. "Are you willing to try something?"

"…Define 'something'."

"What's the last thing you remember thinking? Before she used whichever Skill she used."

Alaric frowned, mulling the question over. "I was mad at whatever you did—don't think I've forgotten that part—and… frustrated, I suppose? Frustrated that she was being obtuse about it. I knew I hadn't misheard, and I didn't like that I believed it. I might have been madder that I wasn't told, honestly. At you or her, I'm not sure. …What was it that you did, actually?"

"Later," Theo pressed on. "That wasn't the last thing that happened. Your other sister addressed it."

That only got Alaric's frown to deepen, his teeth grinding. He'd known that. He knew Matilda had denied whatever they'd been talking about. He knew it'd been a direct counter to Adelheid's question. But he couldn't for the life of him grasp what it'd been.

Gears turned in his head as he tried to replay that conversation, enough that he felt the mounting headache coming. "I stopped all I was doing because…" he licked his lips. "Please tell me focusing like this can't actually hurt my head?"

It certainly felt like it.

"I have no idea," was all Theo said, sounding both earnest and unconcerned.

"Thank you for the reassurance," Alaric scoffed, before deciding he'd already given himself a headache—he might as well soldier on. He'd stood up the moment he heard the question. He'd been mad because he believed it, actually. Because—

"—Because if Matilda has an Affinity it means it's possible for mortals to change, and that isn't possible within reason, yet if it's true, because Adelheid wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. And if it's true, then it's possible, meaning there has to be something I don't know. And if there's anyone around who would know something like that, it'd be you. Meaning that if it's true, you had something to do with it."

As he got that word salad out, it was as if a weight had lifted off his shoulders, and he exhaled in relief. The miniscule gap in his memory remained, but he knew this to be true, enough that it seemed to click in place, filling in the gaps as a patch in fabric might, even if it hadn't truly reversed what Adelheid had done.

"…Fair," Theo didn't deign to deny anything.

"I hate this," Alaric spoke aloud this time, rubbing his temples. What little relief he felt was mental, doing little to help with the headache—or the lingering discomfort from this having happened in the first place. He laid down on the divan off to the side, staring at the ceiling as he spoke. The pain remained considerable enough that he wanted to sleep and recover, but falling asleep felt like an unattainable concept right now. "That was terrifying in a way I cannot articulate, and that just makes it even more disturbing."

"Eh. Children can be… creative," Theo didn't seem to fault the girl for doing whatever she'd done, not at all. Alaric supposed he didn't, either, but he reserved the right to not want to see her in the near future if he could help it. "Power in the hands of someone too young to really understand the ramifications of using it can be terrifying in and of itself. That's how consequences happen."

"Speaking from experience?" Alaric had meant to ask that in jest for both their sakes, but something dark washed over Theo's features, fading within a second. He chose not to push it—banter could only be justified so far. "Anyhow, I don't disagree. That just makes it worse, honestly. I know there wasn't any malice behind it."

"There usually isn't," Theo said wryly. He shook his head. "I suppose there's no use denying it."

"There isn't," Alaric confirmed. "Why—no, how?"

"…Because it's a Proclivity."

Alaric blinked, searching through what he knew of nobility, and drawing a blank. "How does that differ from an Affinity?"

"You know, Proclivities? The Affinities gifted to our ancestors by the Devils," Theo said, as if it were obvious and he was dumb for not knowing that.

"High noble things, got it," Alaric said. He was vaguely aware of something like that existing, but he'd always brushed it off as—indeed—things high nobles did, and therefore irrelevant to him

Theo groaned. "They are what guideparents pass on to their guidechildren, and well… Your sister wouldn't stop making me feel sorry for her."

Blinking, Alaric braced himself to take the chance and ask. He could hardly keep his eyes open by now, and if he wasted this opportunity, he might never find a better one—if any at all. "…Do you not feel sorry for me?"

That got him glared at.

"Seriously, though," Alaric sighed. "I'm not even going to pretend to justify it—can you just give Affinities away like that? Because, not to be jealous or anything, I would very much, appreciate a free Affinity."

"It was different. I can't… I can't do it for you," Theo had the decency to sound slightly sorrowful then.

"Why?"

"Because I don't really see you as lesser compared to myself."

"…Think very carefully about what you're saying," Alaric scowled. He knew there had to be some nuance to it, but he couldn't help the anger that rose within him at the implication that the boy might have considered his sister his lesser.

"Do not take this in the wrong way, I mean in the sense children are less than us. They're young, inexperienced, and most importantly, not full people, like adults are. It doesn't have to be adults, but…" Theo shook his head. "Significantly younger people count—my guideparent is centuries old. But the point is, a guidechild cannot be a peer. It cannot be someone you respect as an equal like that. You need to be able to mentally put yourself in that position of responsibility, and that doesn't really work when you're thinking about someone who isn't a kid."

"Ugh," Alaric's hopes had been low—he'd barely allowed himself any—but the answer still stung. "There go my dreams of a free Affinity."

Theo opened his mouth, closing it soon after. Whatever he'd meant to say left him shaking his head. "You should rest," he changed the subject with the subtlety of an earthquake. "I'll be taking my leave now."

"Stay," Alaric said. By the time he noticed he had, it was too late to back down without embarrassing himself.

"I'm sorry, are you afraid of a seven-year-old?" Theo teased before clearly thinking better of it. It seemed they were both intent on tripping over themselves as many times as possible then.

"I'm aware she's not going to come in and do anything, but fears don't always deign to be rational, and I don't disagree that I need rest," Alaric scoffed. "Go sit in the corner or something. There are books here."

"Go sit in the corner?"

Alaric ignored him. His complaints were surprisingly easy to tune out once he closed his eyes.