The Weight of Legacy

One of these days, Malwine was going to have to get herself a map of the estate. The details on just how she'd go about that… acquisition were something she would cheerfully procrastinate thinking about, but the need for such a thing wasn't something she could ignore forever. Not anymore. It was as if every time she went anywhere she had a chance of her ending up in a room she hadn't even known existed.

Even now, she couldn't figure out just which part of the exterior she was only barely familiar with this even corresponded to. The estate didn't even have towers, and that would have been the only thing that came to mind to explain this angle.

She'd all but hitched a ride with her aunt and future uncle, not really questioning where they were going—the young couple were surprisingly nice to be around. As for this room, it contained what had to be one of the best available windows in the entire home… not that Malwine had ever put that much effort into locating those before. Still, the view they had of the reception beneath them was great.

Bernie was shuffling guests around, slowly filling the chairs. Adelheid had gotten bored of her little stunt at some point, and moved on to terrorize the guests elsewhere. Malwine hadn't asked for details—she'd find out sooner or later from the complaints, and it would probably be a better experience that way.

"Should you not be down there?" Abelard asked with a smirk. He was leaning with an elbow against the windowsill, his position admittedly awkward as he eyed the outdoors with only the barest hints of interest. He was clearly far too busy with the banter between him and his bride to pay much attention to the new arrivals.

She'd been following them around for less than an hour and Malwine was already sure neither of them was really committed to taking this day seriously. They'd dressed the part and got occasionally emotional, sure, but they also kept making vague comments about marriage, Kristian, and Bernie—chances were, they were avoiding outright saying something when there was a literal child around, but Malwine got the impression that they—as lovers—found the idea of suddenly marrying to be stupid.

"Wave take me, no," Thekla winced, her mask one of mock horror. She shook her head as she returned to just staring out the window within the next moment. "I wouldn't know the names of most of these people if I had to look them in the eye and thank them for coming. Bernadette and her guest list can shove it."

"Hm," Abelard nodded. The playful glint to his eyes made Malwine wonder if they happened to forget she was here, but if things got weird, she'd just leave them to it and run off to rejoin Adelheid.

The Lizanąn man looked off to the side. "You know, back home, leaving guests ungreeted would be considered poor form."

"They all saw Father when they arrived—I suspect their impression of us cannot possibly get any worse."

"Good, good. By the time we actually have to deal with any of them, we might find ourselves at least a few guests short. This might be the most thoughtful thing I've seen your father do."

"What can I say? He's a people person."

Pretending she didn't understand the jokes at Kristian's expense was harder than she'd expected it to be.

"Oh, that reminds me," Malwine cut in, seizing her chance to interrogate the Lizanąn again before the conversation progressed too far for her to justify the segue. The opening he'd provided her with the earlier comment would already be quite the stretch. "Is this also what weddings are like in Lizaną? You never talk about stuff from there."

And I've only ever talked to you, like, twice, but that's besides the point. She refused to consider whether the Rupert incident counted or not.

"I believe I told you once that my thoughts on my homeland are… complex," Abelard licked his lips, shaking his head. He looked so momentarily uncomfortable that she almost regretted asking. "I'm not opposed to discussing things—there are just certain matters I'd rather not be reminded of. …Anyhow. We usually don't go out of our way to announce such unions, in any case. At least not before they've taken place." He shook his head. "Let us say, Lizanąn culture places much more importance on being able to ensure someone's parentage can be guaranteed. The union a child is born to determines their status because their parents are known, and marriages exist primarily for that. Not for social connections, not for the fanfare."

This wasn't the first time he'd vaguely alluded to Lizaną having some sort of social or caste system he had trouble with, and once again, Abelard had completely glossed over it—which sucked, considering she'd yet to determine whether she should be hating Lizaną in general or just ignoring the country's existence.

"But how will anyone ever know who fathered my child if I'm not a married woman?!" Thekla asked in a mocking tone, sealing the act with an exaggerated gasp.

"I'm sure they could just ask you," Malwine supplied a moment later, once it became clear that Abelard had no intention of doing anything other than cackling like a maniac. The mood had lightened swiftly—she could only hope her aunt could pull that off a second time, because Malwine was about to go and ruin it again. "I wish someone could just ask my mother who my father was. Or anything, actually."

She didn't need [The Way of the Clave] to tell her what kind of reaction those words would get her. The older she got, leaning into just how easy it was to pout and be overdramatic felt paradoxically more natural. When she'd been a toddler, she felt like the echoes of an old woman, having to deal with being far too small and being barely able to process it.

Nowadays, Malwine felt closer to a child with access to more memories than usual. Even having a social Skill that helped her decide how to act wasn't enough for her to fully let go of any impulses that led her to prioritize her curiosity and interests over the impact of her own words.

While she'd known she'd basically be stirring the pot by saying that—and had accepted that it'd probably be a mess—she'd failed to predict just how quickly the comment would be met by yet another hug. The worst part was how despite the intent behind saying that, no part of the sentiment she'd expressed was false.

Malwine squirmed in her aunt's embrace. "Ugh, Auntie. I sort of need to breathe over here?" She went limp as she realized something, a chill going down her spine. All she could do was mutter a "Hmph!" before her mind started racing.

Her initial reaction had been that her ego was taking quite the blow from this, dangerous as actually expressing such a thing would be. Not so long ago, she'd been surprised by her own strength, yet Thekla was much stronger than she'd have expected a mortal to be. The variability of attribute points per level meant she couldn't just guess her aunt's strength with the knowledge of her level alone, but what could she have—low thousands, at most? Her total attributes were unlikely to surpass five digits, if they even got halfway to the first ten-thousand.

Except that was precisely the problem. Her own effective attributes were much lower than that, passable still as something a real child could theoretically have, if Adelheid's non-Presence stats were anything to go by. In that moment, when she'd nearly let herself try to push her aunt away by instinct, she'd come to the very unwelcome realization that at the very least, their <Body> attributes had to be quite close—Thekla's physical strength was only just barely above her own.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Chances were, Malwine was worrying over nothing. Again, even a kid with no advantages could have reached this point, as uncommon as one being at the Mortal Esse would be. On the bright side, she hadn't overreacted too loudly.

What did go through of her brief panic was being misinterpreted even as she rushed to calm herself down.

"Dear, it's alright. You didn't say anything wrong," was all Thekla said as she continued holding her niece, patting her back about as convincingly as Malwine's own attempts at supporting Adelheid in the past had been. By now, she was starting to fear most of her family shared the dubiousness of her own social capabilities—Malwine certainly couldn't have diffused this mess had she been in her aunt's position, and she'd been the one to start it!

But wow. It really goes to show there's hope for this family of mine still. At least for anyone whose name isn't Kristian. Certainly, they seemed to try.

Abelard was much more openly at a loss, though he started pacing as Malwine watched from over her aunt's shoulder—a surprisingly comfy spot now that she wasn't trying to get away—and had the couple not proven capable of recovering so quickly, she might have felt bad for sidetracking their nosiness operation like this. They'd let their young niece tag along and she'd repaid them by repeatedly making them address her only tangentially related concerns, on their wedding day.

Malwine didn't regret any of it so much as she had to acknowledge she couldn't really pretend otherwise. In fact, she'd been so busy convincing herself that she hadn't done anything wrong that she almost missed the unreadable look Abelard and Thekla exchanged before her aunt's grip loosened, and her future uncle-in-law offered her a hand.

Trying not to frown, Malwine reached forward and gripped as many fingers as she could before shaking his hand. "Hi?"

Thekla laughed behind her, while Abelard seemed to be doing what he could to suppress a snort of his own—and failing miserably.

"Honestly…" The man in question drew in a slow, deep breath as he steadied himself. "I feel quite the fool to have never considered this—then again, there would have been little point in even bringing it up when you were barely a child on their first steps."

"Okay?" Malwine had no idea where this was going.

"Tell me, Malwine Rīsanin," Abelard's words had a sudden weight to them, and the very air seemed to bend in response. "When you think of your mother, what is it that you Seek to know?"

It had taken her but a moment to realize just what she was feeling—for the first time, despite having known he was at the Tree Veins stage for quite a while now, Malwine was feeling Abelard's power.

It wasn't anything Adelheid's blanket of oblivion or the crackling glimpses she'd caught of Veit's wild assortment of Affinities. It was something inquisitive yet dull, feeling far more mundane than literal magic had any right to.

The part of her that rationally understood now was probably not the best time to interrupt him only narrowly defeated her desire to immediately start asking questions.

"About my mother? I'm not sure," she considered her answer, though lightly. Avoiding revealing too much of her own knowledge remains her priority, but she was too curious as to just what her future uncle meant to try to hold everything back. "I wish I knew her, I guess. Who she is or was—where she is, and why she isn't with me. Why did she have me and then just disappear?"

That last part might have come off a bit too rough as she spoke it out. Malwine wasn't even sure at which point she'd clenched her fists. Rationally, she knew it had something to do with the curse. She knew something had happened to her mother, that she was incapacitated somehow, and for that, guardianship of Malwine had passed to Anselm and, in turn, to Bernie.

None of that mattered when it came to that type of feeling. Having a general idea of just why she didn't get to have a mother around—again!—did nothing to minimize her frustration, even if she didn't blame Beryl herself for it.

Abelard had sat down in a poor impression of what should have been a meditative pose, eyes closed. He was basically just lounging on a sofa with his legs off to the side—in his defense, Malwine wasn't sure she could have pulled off a proper meditation session while wearing a tabard that stiff, either.

Curious, she moved closer, sitting on the ground between him and Thekla. She immediately had to concede she wasn't having an easy time comfortably settling down in this dress… so she'd probably been judging Abelard over nothing. Yay, hypocrisy.

Minutes went by in silence. Even her aunt had stopped her careful examination of who Bernie was leading to which seat in order to watch Abelard. From up here, all voices beneath were little more than whispers, though Malwine thought she might have heard Bernie raising her voice once or twice. This event was probably weighing more heavily on her guardian's mind than on her aunt's, honestly.

After well over fifteen minutes had passed—she discreetly checked with her pebble just to be sure—Malwine found she couldn't help but get a bit impatient, scurrying over to Thekla's side.

"What is he doing?" Malwine asked her aunt in a hushed tone.

"It's a Seeker thing."

"Auntie, I have no idea what that means," Malwine gave Thekla a look, and the woman at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed at the vagueness.

"…Fair. It's not really a secret, but maybe don't bring it up too much?" her aunt pleaded lightly before continuing. "It's something particular to Lizaną, I suppose. Being a Seeker is, let's say, a fancier profession than being something like a cook, and more specialized than that. People born with an Affinity called {Seek} can be Seekers, and they work getting the answers that others—as their name implies—seek. Think of them as investigators of a kind, but instead of just a paper trail, they can also use their abilities to find the necessary answers."

You have my interest. Malwine felt her eyes widening even as she asked a follow-up question. "So. Abelard's a Seeker?"

Thekla snorted. Abelard cracked an eyelid open just to shoot his soon-to-be wife a pointed glance before closing it again, and she sighed. "…He has some training for it, yes."

What? Did he flunk out or quit or something? She was starting to wonder if Abelard's gripes about Lizaną weren't just some differences in beliefs. She already knew from Adelheid that he was far, far weaker than Veit despite being over Level 700. It wasn't too hard to put two and two together and wonder if the man had some problem that had affected his cultivation, and by now, she knew Affinities played a huge part on that down the line.

"It's not going much better than my other attempts did," Abelard exhaled slowly, his eyes fluttering open. "When I sought your mother as a missing person on Thekla's behalf, I barely managed anything beyond what records could tell me—which amounted to next to nothing. I admit I get a stronger impression when I focus on it now, perhaps because you are here, but—"

His 'answer' was cut short as he stiffened, a mere moment before his body was yanked upwards by an unseen force. Abelard gasped and Thekla was on her feet within an instant, rushing to catch him before he hit the ground on the way down.

Malwine could only gape at what she had just witnessed, all the while Abelard cursed in a foreign tongue. I wonder if I can sneak in a request for him to teach me Lizanąn here? …Probably not. Instead of following her heart there, Malwine blinked repeatedly. "Are you okay? Did you find anything?"

"No. My Skill malfunctioned," Abelard explained with a groan. "On occasion, if it picks anything up that it cannot parse, it behaves… strangely."

Malwine simply eyed the ceiling—could her mother theoretically be in the surface? She was almost annoyed by how Abelard didn't seem to be considering that possibility. Even if movement to and from the surface rarely happened, it clearly wasn't impossible. That sounded like it would make her life all the more complicated down the line, even if she wasn't currently searching for Beryl herself.

Granted, it could also be that Abelard somehow had a Skill that liked to throw him at ceilings and walls—that could certainly explain how he ended up not actually being a Seeker.

As Thekla rubbed his back and helped him settle next to her by the window, Malwine paused before she rejoined them. Before I forget…

Seeing as she wasn't alone, she didn't dare actually smile—but she sure imagined doing so.