The Weight of Legacy

Malwine had barely gotten to the part of her recollection where the golden text on the panel replied to her when Veit simply leaned forward, eyes closed, his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his temples. He’d sat down on a hanging chair next to his bed, which Malwine was fairly confident had not been there the first time she’d been here.

She paused her tale. “What are you doing?”

“Mentally preparing myself for the rest of this,” Veit said with a sigh. Her teacher still looked a mere wrong turn away from another meltdown, but at least he had been listening to her so far.

Yet that undercurrent of discomfort remained, his earlier admission hanging heavily in the air. For all she’d technically been using him for his ability to teach her, knowing he wouldn’t have taken her on if he’d known about her abilities stung.

He’s still wrong about me being a Forger, though. But first the guard, and now Veit. What were you up to, OBeryl?

“It wasn’t that bad,” Malwine insisted. “It seemed confused as to how I was communicating with it, I think.”

Veit straightened with a barely suppressed groan. “How so?”

“It seemed convinced it somehow ran afoul of whatever a Lorekeeper is, because I’d run that trial for Anselm. I mean, at least I think my trial for Anselm was the reason.”

She detailed the exchange—well, as best as she could recall it. Veit listened intently, seemingly deep in thought and not interrupting her once.

“No lie, I’m incredibly curious as to what… as to what’s up with my uncle, I guess,” Malwine admitted. With her initial confusion now in the past, she recognized that trial for what it had been—one altered by a secondary force, and unlike with Katrina’s, she might still have had a chance to understand the oddities of this one. “But I reiterate, it mistaking me for a ‘Lorekeeper’ worries me. I don’t like it when people keep referencing things I don’t understand.”

“That.” Veit scowled, shaking his head. Whether he refused to take the bait or simply missed it was beyond her. The forester was clearly still on edge, but he grew calmer a moment later—physically, at least. “Actually, that might be good, as far as misunderstandings go.”

Malwine somehow doubted that. “I’m not going to get in trouble for it thinking I’m a Lorekeeper?”

“Did you claim to be one?”

“No.”

“Then it will be fine,” Veit seemed confident enough of that, waving her concerns off. “Whichever being was communicating with you was not actually aware of anything on your end, and wanted to seek your favor, out of the misguided belief that you were a Lorekeeper. The offer of aid, the attempt at a bargain—all hallmarks of one who would wish to get on a Lorekeeper’s good side.”

“And a Lorekeeper is…?”

“They’re a Kind that seeks to collect history, in the same sense the fell cling to specific Affinities.”

“…Something tells me I wouldn’t like them.”

Veit shrugged. “They are of the universe—as far as I know, none have visited this world in centuries, and the last one simply came to record a war on the surface. It was during my father’s time.”

Malwine nodded, though she had no idea what that meant as far as the timeline went. She only managed to hold her tongue for a moment longer. “Which millennium are we talking about?”

“Oh, I haven’t the faintest clue,” Veit admitted. “But I believe the deity you shouted at is the important matter here—you must under no circumstances cross paths with it again. It will likely be more baffled than anything else, now, but it would undoubtedly demand answers if it got the chance to contact you again.”

She’d have been lying if she said she didn’t feel her heartrate pick up, despite her current status as a double. “I’m sorry, did you just say deity?”

“There are no gods under the waves, not anymore. You should be fine so long as you do not seek it out,” Veit sounded less confident this time, and avoided her gaze. “In terms of what concerns me, I suspect your uncle is compromised. As to what that means, in detail… I know not.”

I could have told you that. Malwine squashed that ungrateful part of herself. She’d guessed there was something seriously wrong with her uncle even before Veit had dropped that bombshell on her, but his observations had been sound so far.

Then again, the casual mention of a god didn’t stun her as much as she thought it should have. Maybe it was because the man in front of her had a Proclivity drawn from a Devil, and Devils apparently cast the gods out. Maybe it was because the widow came from a world where few even believed in higher powers—the idea didn’t feel as unsurmountable as it should have.

I can now officially say I yelled at a god, actually. “How can you tell it was a deity?”

“Because of your description. The way beings past a certain level of power interact with the world is something our minds cannot fully process,” Veit explained. “It means that when their words manifest, regardless of medium, certain characteristics are to be expected. For one, most people interpret some of those undertones they cannot parse as color.”

“Oh,” Malwine felt her eyes widen. “So if I see text color, it’s a god speaking?”

“Over a panel, yes. The description I’ve heard of involves fluttering colors at the edge of one’s vision, when deities speak. Again, I was born long after the Devil’s Empire had come and gone,” the forester said. “You’d be hard-pressed to find many who’ve encountered deities in recent memory, at least under the waves.”

Malwine couldn’t help herself, grinning. “So I’ve managed something few have?”

“That is not something to take pride in, let alone given the circumstances,” Veit gave her a look. “Besides, people on the surface interact with deities on the regular.”

She pouted like the toddler she was.

Veit breathed deeply. “I must confess I expected worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, I guess.”

He ignored her. “Worry not about your uncle—I will look into the matter,” Veit met her gaze. “Now. The crux of the matter is that you are a Forger. That fact stands above all.”

“I’d heard of Forgers, while grabbing Skills from books,” Malwine volunteered that much. “But none of my Skills reference such a thing, and I don’t even know what it means.”

“Show me your Skills,” Veit asked—no, it did not come off as a question, or a request.

Malwine frowned, eyeing her Skill panel.