The Weight of Legacy

Malwine had done it.

She stood right at the end of the gravel path after an arduous journey, days’ worth of effort. Well, more like a few minutes, but it felt like more. Without her attributes, she would not have made it this far—each step had felt perilous enough as it was.

If she had to guess, the uncertainty was more of a factor than the path itself. No matter how far she got, or how much she told herself that things were going well, that tiny voice in the back of her head kept telling her this was too easy.

Only [Unpacifiable]’s continued silence truly kept her going at this point.

She took a deep breath before taking that first step off the path.

Malwine flinched. As a rule, she didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings unless they were relevant to whatever she was thinking about. More than once, the staff had switched out the curtains, and by the time she noticed, she wasn’t even sure when the change happened.

Even then, something about where she’d decided to run off to—or perhaps, the fact that she had in the first place—was putting her on edge.

From where she stood, Malwine was pretty sure she could see what she was looking for. Between blades of grass, she could see dry, nondescript flowers. The placement was right as well, lining up with her memory of that trip to the estate on Bernie’s arms, what now felt like so long ago.

Those vaguely look like petals so they probably are petals, Malwine nodded to herself. Flawless conclusion right there.

She’d gotten used to the occasional tint of the world by now, but she couldn’t be sure if they were a greenish brown, or just brown. They also just looked off, in general. They were still, unlike the living counterparts she recalled, but she figured the knowledge of how creepy they must have once looked was probably making her jittery by default.

If something was going to be the harvestable version of the titular items from The Flowers, Malwine guessed it had to be these sad things.

Yet again, she bemoaned her current size. For all her attributes might have allowed her to somewhat sidestep the limitations of being—as far as she could guess—somewhere around or below 3-feet-tall, they unfortunately did next to nothing for her when it came to literal perspective.

It was hard to parse, but something about being in such a wide space without being able to get a good view of her surroundings bothered her at a nearly primal level, overriding all personal preference. The grass itself wasn’t too tall, but…

Sneaking a glance in each direction with about as much delicacy as the widow about to cross a street, Malwine almost took another step, then froze. If she went through the grass, she’d get her clothes dirty, and how, exactly, was she supposed to explain that to Bernie? Even if she changed clothes and threw these into her inventory, Bernie would still question the loss.

Malwine sighed. She’d have to take a risk. Gritting her tiny teeth, she let [Shieldwork] create a sphere around her, as small as she could make it. It pulsed, bright as always, and then it was gone. Watching out for any reaction, she stood still as seconds stretched into what had to be minutes, and only then did she have the confidence to walk again.

Her constant checks in every direction as she stepped forward might have bordered on paranoia, but the biggest risk had passed, as far as Malwine was concerned. If anyone noticed her, she’d run for it. That was what any misbehaving kid would probably do, anyway.

I’m not a misbehaving kid, Malwine assured herself.

It didn’t take too long for her to start wondering, just how far into the grass was she supposed to go? There were harvestables within reach already. With inventory being a factor, she didn’t necessarily have to limit herself as far as grabbing them went—the only real question was how long she was willing to spend here. The most update n0vels are published on NoveI-Fire.ɴet

Bernie probably wouldn’t lose track of her forever.

Realistically, how many harvestables did she want to pick up? She still had that potion—frankly, she might never actually use it. Not anytime soon, at least. It didn’t appear to have an expiration date, and between [Meditation] and how much she slept, she wasn’t exactly hurting for [Integrity] restoration.

Malwine only really had two things she wanted specifically—a Skill Creation Token like the one Adelheid got, and another Trait Creation Token—but considering how she very much hadn’t meant to reveal some random potion the first time around, she suspected she couldn’t exactly count on her Luck to do her any favors.

Not that it would stop her from firing off [Enforced Longevity] just to throw more effective Luck at the reveals.

Let’s go with twenty… I just need the two tokens. I’d rather not think I can’t get what I want once in every ten.

Once again, Malwine was glad to be completely clueless about how statistics or percentages worked for system mechanics like these. Or about how statistics really worked, in general.

As she knelt, the invisible shield around her all but pushed the grass away.

Gingerly, she reached out, watching the closest blades of grass shift as she made an attempt to touch a dead flower. Something flexed almost imperceptibly, and Malwine’s fist closed around the crinkling petals. It felt more… solid than it should have been. She pulled, and the remains of the flower crumbled to ash almost instantly.

Malwine’s gaze snapped to her palm as she unfurled her fingers. She’d expected something to happen, but it somehow still managed to catch her off-guard. A small glossy disk rested there, just like the harvestables Adelheid had given her last time.