The Weight of Legacy

Malwine had a working theory—humans were bad at keeping track of time, actually. Humans in general. It couldn't possibly just be her.

Without the buff’s time-until-expiration counter to be certain of how many hours had passed, she found herself completely at a loss. The seeming lack of sunlight and unintelligible patterns to the visits she got didn’t help.

Bernadette came by frequently and doted on her to an extent, though Malwine couldn’t help but feel a mounting awkwardness in their interactions. She could hear Bernadette speaking to her, clearly saying something—whatever it may be she was trying to tell a baby—and seemingly growing more and more concerned for reasons beyond Malwine's understanding.

The worst part was Malwine knew an infant her age should probably already understand some words. [Situational Autopilot] helped—and as of Bernadette’s latest visit, some tension seemed to have drained away from the woman—but knowing when to coo and cry appropriately did little to alleviate Malwine’s true problem.

After what she figured must have been several days but probably less than a week, Anselm finally showed up again. For all she stared, Malwine couldn’t make heads or tails of the conversation her uncle had with Bernadette, beyond the fact that it looked somber. He leaned over her crib and said something, a bittersweet smile on his lips, before Malwine got another notification.

Anselm Rīsan has relinquished custody over you.

Bernadette ‡ has been assigned as your guardian by Anselm Rīsan.

She might have been angry, were it not for the fact that her uncle didn't quite look okay. It was hard to pin down, exactly, but the guy looked like he was working through something. Malwine wouldn't be surprised if sicknesses still existed in this world, even with cultivation.

Aside from sleeping, Malwine ate the mushy stuff Bernadette fed her, suppressing her annoyance at being unable to identify the ingredients. Most meals were savory enough to not be bland, but they weren't quite to the standards of spice-loving centenarians.

She was also bathed often enough it might have even amounted to several times a day, which was a pleasant surprise in this indeterminate time period. Especially since she had…needs.

It sufficed to say she would likely live in fear of cloth diapers for the foreseeable future, though Bernadette appeared to have no such issues—probably because the place had maids. A small part of Malwine had hoped they'd get right to potty training her so she could skip the trouble, maybe with a wooden potty like the sort of asset people retextured for medievalized games.

But nope, that was clearly too much to ask for.

As more maybe-days went on, Malwine only grew more confused as to how people could tell the time in this utterly sunless void. She could see the windows. It was always dark and vaguely green-spotted outside. There might have been a method Malwine remained yet unaware of, though she did confirm one thing—at some point, she had become 19 months old. In turn, her previous theories were proven correct, as [Integrity] had dropped to 983 and [Toll] had become 35. At least [Toll] won’t suck forever, then, even with the curse.

Name: Malwine Rīsanin ⊛

Kind: Human

Inherent Aptitude: The Weight of Legacy | Inherent Flaw: The Fog of Lore

Age: 19 months (+1297)

Final Stage of the Early Esse | Level 40 (10+30+0*) [Banked levels: 10]

Lifetime Skill levels: 404 (+1253) (S)

A bit surprised those lifetime Skill levels were found…Ahaha I’ll see myself out.

Malwine would have at least 200 [Toll] by the time adulthood came about, but it still stung to know she could have—deserved to have—well over 1.6k instead. It really hurt to know she was practically being robbed of all those attributes she technically did almost nothing to earn. Outrageous.

The thought, combined with Malwine’s annoyance at having all but traded one lonely crib for another, had her wondering what to expect, exactly. She’d been putting off the matter on account of her ignorance—which was still as much of a factor now as it had been then—but if she was getting +500 attribute points per level, and people apparently started with 10 each, what was the power creep like?

[Integrity] decayed with age, just as [Toll] rose with it. The latter could be almost freely improved with points placed into Circulation, but if Malwine was right, then the only way to increase [Integrity] was to raise Acclimation. Did everyone in this world have access to mana? The concept of everyone in a world being some form of mage was bizarre to her.

Then again, would it be worse if not everyone could access mana? Were people without it just doomed to keep losing [Integrity] until it dropped to zero? What would happen then? And considering some of Malwine’s own abilities used [Integrity] to power themselves, that’d mean people with such abilities either had to also be able to increase their Acclimations, or eventually lose access to those abilities entirely.

It was a disturbing train of thought to go with.

With resurrection existing, permadeath seemed avoidable—though not impossible considering Older-Beryl’s resurrection eligibility had expired, implying a time limit. But…was there just a point in which even if you stayed alive, you’d permanently lose access to [Integrity]? The thought worried Malwine more than it had any right to. She did have Acclimation, after all.

The possibility of mages—or cultivators, Malwine supposed—living longer than the average person wasn’t some foreign concept to her. She’d grown up aware of the archetype of old wizards and the like. [Toll] going up with age made far more sense than [Integrity] going down…Or does it? I mean, I guess there had to be an intrinsic advantage to mana cultivation at some point, beyond the obvious…But still…

Though she had to pause her ruminations on occasion to try and watch her visitors while [Situational Autopilot] ran, Malwine was growing aware of just how much she was sleeping. She might have a better idea as to whether it was normal if she weren’t so utterly confused about the time, but it still felt like a lot. Even just entertaining the people Bernadette dragged in was tiresome.

Is it even safe to let this many people near a young and presumably frail child?

It was only when Bernadette brought in a third matronly lady to examine her that Malwine thought she understood what was happening. Oh, they’re looking me over. Do they think something’s wrong with me? IS there something wrong with me?

Malwine paid more attention to what [Situational Autopilot] itself was doing from that point onwards. One thing she could make out was they were saying short monosyllabic—rarely bisyllabic—words to her, and according to her Skill, they expected her to repeat them. So she did.

Unfortunately for her, there was apparently something missing. Whatever it was had everyone scowling, no matter how well [Situational Autopilot] told her she was matching their expectations.

For Malwine, that was it—she needed to get some sort of language Skill, even if it meant surrendering a Skill slot like that. It was one of those ‘yes or yes’ sort of things by now.

She dove into [Meditation].

Malwine wasn’t going to go for the bare minimum—honestly couldn’t afford to. The stint with [Mediation] had taught her that the process of getting new Skills was clearly influenced by what you wanted them to be. She was drawing conclusions—she didn’t know what Older-Beryl’s version of [Mediation] had looked like, after all—but Malwine’s Skill seemed too convenient to her, to not be somehow personalized.

That just left trying to think of what to plan for. She might have been bilingual once upon a time, but she’d never felt as though that helped with new languages at all. She’d learned situational words from several languages, especially those she had to read often in documents, but never even approached confidence—let alone fluency—in any of them. This time, Malwine would have to learn for real. Practical usage of this world’s language or languages would be a necessary part of life, not something compartmentalized for her work.

Malwine needed something that would not only capitalize on what remained of her previous knowledge but make it easier for her to add to it. A narrow scope—languages, of course—but it could work. Had to work, if she wanted to stop getting concerned looks from the parade that was Bernadette’s ever-changing retinue.

It would likely be a Skill. Malwine wasn’t sure if thinking that would matter, perhaps lighten the load of Skill creation. A part of her hesitated to think of the hypothetical Skill as a merely communicative tool—imagine all the sources I could read! But the need remained. She had to be able to speak, read, and write, in as many languages as was necessary. Sure hope telepathy isn’t a thing. How am I supposed to control which language I think in?

Getting discovered as some reincarnated person that way would be embarrassing. You know, if Older-Beryl’s [Mental Defense] were to randomly appear before me, I wouldn’t complain…

The [Mediation] Skill was polite enough to inform her she was going off track.

Malwine refocused. That tasty languages Skill was so close she could almost feel it, and she envisioned her avatar reaching out, again past the waters of that imaginary beach…

You have unlocked and slotted [The Plurilingual Psyche]

All that exists is connected, and languages are no exception. Strain of learning new languages greatly reduced. Language comprehension is enhanced. Learned words and their context carry a chance of improving your intrinsic grasp on grammar rules and nuance.

Interdependent to attributes.

Interdependent to attributes.

Trait: None

Aspect: None

Her little mouth shifted to a grin. It deciding to land on was unexpected, though the whole ‘interdependent’ factor might have had something to do with that. Is this sort of thing why Speed and Dexterity are in of all places? Perhaps the categories weren’t as strict as Malwine had been initially assuming them to be.

Now Bernadette just needs to bring in the entourage so I can get to work.

The next prompt had Malwine raising an eyebrow.

Would you like to differentiate your Dexterity attribute into Studiousness? This decision is irreversible.

Studiousness: Enhances the effectiveness and potential of all matters relating study regardless of intentionality. Growth in all things , learning capacity, and the success rate of endeavors with the purpose of acquiring knowledge are all improved.

It was interesting, sure. Attributes could be ‘differentiated’ somehow, presumably narrowing their scope. Whatever the original scope was, Malwine supposed, since it hadn’t come with a guide. But in this case…as much as Malwine liked the idea of trying something new about the system, as well as learning, Dexterity carried a lot of implications, ones she didn’t want to dismiss until and unless she was certain she was making a decision that would be right for her.

She knew all too well that she couldn’t take it, so she gave the mental dissent, sighing.

With that, Malwine fully withdrew back to reality.

Your [Meditation] Skill has improved! 3 → 6

The value gains from [Meditation] had hardly mattered lately—[Integrity] had been hovering over 900 with how much she’d been sleeping, and her hesitation to cultivate at all left her with [Toll] perpetually at zero. She’d been tempted to try and max it out sometime, if only to figure out what this world’s presumable equivalent to running out of mana might be, but she hadn’t gotten the chance.

It didn’t take long for Bernadette and the same woman from the yesterday-adjacent visit—the one with the judgmental eyes!—to show up. Bernadette handed Malwine a drink after placing her on their equivalent of a high chair—a hovering thing that had nearly given Malwine a heart attack the first time she’d been placed on it—and moved to speak with the other woman.

Malwine was still a bit mad about how, much to her chagrin, the only results she could ever get on the woman never included her name. Wonder what’s different about her. Not part of the household or something? Not on my contacts list?

Governess - Human - Level ???

Still, a Level 100-plus lady was probably relevant to know.

The difference the Skill made was so sudden that Malwine almost dropped her fantasyland sippy cup.

“—she—I—Malwine—”

Your [The Plurilingual Psyche] Skill has improved! 0 → 2

Right. Fantasy Skills. Fantasy language-learning. I’m not even going to question it.

This had been what she wanted, after all. Even if she hadn’t been expecting it to go like this.

Malwine didn’t even bother with [Situational Autopilot] this time around, instead focusing entirely on what Bernadette and the other woman were speaking of.

“—age—know—concerns—communicate—”

Though she knew it could just be confirmation bias, Malwine suspected they had indeed been worried about her reactions. Is the Skill just robotic or something? But it’s so useful…

Malwine supposed she could go right back to that crutch when she got older, or at least when she understood the language enough to exercise her judgment on its effectiveness.

Your [The Plurilingual Psyche] Skill has improved! 2 → 5

Are Skills supposed to go up this easily? Because I’ve either been doing [Meditation] wrong or this one’s working too well.

At least the ladies were chatty. The rate at which she was picking up the basic meaning of some words was more overpowered than her beloved rogue-bard hybrid class had ever been.

“Have you—Beryl—history—others—”

“—Katrina—”

Malwine shoehorned the name she was pretty sure she could make out from that last sentence into the borders of her to-do list panel. Maybe it was this governess’s name, though what little she could grasp of the context made her think it must have been something else.

“—don’t know—”

“—parents—history—communication—”

Definitely learning the important words here. Talk about the entire family while you’re at it, please. The sooner I can get started with that, the better!

These people looked rich enough to have some family history done regardless of time period equivalency. Malwine just hoped they weren’t the sort to do patrilineal-only records, or only present the socially favorable sides. Done intentionally, that kind of thing was negligent at best and malicious at worst.

“—problems—Malwine—”

I don’t have any problems!, the literally cursed infant wanted to complain, all while knowing she was missing the meaning of the rest of an entire sentence, at minimum.

Frowning, Malwine decided to try something.

She humphed as loudly as she could, repeating the noise when it didn’t immediately get her noticed.

On the fifth or so attempt, both Bernadette and the governess turned to her.

Malwine pointed to herself. “Malwine,” she said, then pointed to Bernadette. “Bernadette.”

Bernadette gave her a soft smile. They’d done this previously, back when Malwine had [Situational Autopilot] running. Malwine had since found the Skill would still give her a grasp on expectations, if she focused it but didn’t allow it to take the reigns.

This time, she pointed at the cup. “Sippy?”

“Sippy,” Bernadette repeated with a nod, though her smile remained guarded. She reached to grab the cup from Malwine, as she had countless times before.

Malwine clutched the cup to her chest and Bernadette froze, eyes widening. “Sippy. Malwine. Sippy.”

It was sloppy and frankly embarrassing for one who felt like a centenarian ghost masquerading as a baby, but it clearly got something done.

Your [The Plurilingual Psyche] Skill has improved! 5 → 7

Bernadette and the governess resumed their discussion, now far more animated than before, shooting her constant glances that made Malwine realize they’d been, in a way, leaving her out of the conversation before, despite it having been about her.

Once she was done with her mysterious but preferred fruit juice, Malwine repeated her ‘sippy’ routine, this time holding it out for Bernadette to grab. Malwine even gave the woman a self-satisfied smile to top it off.

Things were far from perfect, but it was an improvement. She could only hope her learning would pick up the pace now that she wasn’t entirely clueless as to what was said around her.