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Mistakes Were Made [Remorseful Demon King Reincarnation]
B1CH04 - Meet the Family, Part 4: A Mother's Touch

B1CH04 - Meet the Family, Part 4: A Mother's Touch

Accounts of First Emperor Kayden’s life prior to his ascension to the throne of the Radiant Kingdom—predating the establishment of the empire—are notably scarce. The historical upheaval instigated by the War of Burning Heavens resulted in the unfortunate destruction of a considerable portion of the antiquarian records, and more yet was eradicated during the reign of Sekhma, nicknamed the Mad Emperor, who governed over the turn of the millennium (948-1007 AK), as expounded upon in chapter 12, section 3.

Historians have discerned that Kayden occupied the position of a general within the military of the Radiant Kingdom, whose territories bordered the Sacred Forest to the north. The geopolitical landscape in that era suggests a deeply hostile relationship between the two nations, and a young Kayden had to have engaged the elven warriors in battle on a regular basis. It might not be a stretch to call them mortal enemies. As such, Kayden’s subsequent success in securing an alliance with the elves during the Great War underscores the remarkable diplomatic acumen of our esteemed founder and the magnitude of the threat posed by the nefarious Zeipheron, the Dragon Demon King.

Regarding the formative years of the First Emperor, available insights are derived primarily from salvaged fragments of administrative scrolls belonging to the Radiant Kingdom. Kayden was sired by one Baron Abner Nisim. Initially a mage of modest renown, Abner achieved prominence late in life through a series of noteworthy contributions to the kingdom. Kayden’s mother, Abner’s legal wife, hailed from a financially challenged noble lineage with a history of excellent mages. However, surviving evidence suggests she lacked personal proficiency in the mystical arts, which might have contributed to the decline of her house.

Regrettably, next to nothing else of substance can be gleaned from the records at our disposal, save for Abner and his wife’s tragic demise at the hands of the Dragon Demon King. Persistent inquiries into the existence of potential siblings of the First Emperor have been repeatedly disproven.

—excerpt from “An Extensive In-Depth Study of the Nezir Imperial Line Throughout the Ages” by Dulliver Drowsi, archaeologist, historian, and imperial archivist, published in 1346 AK.

Rest 29, 2497 AK, Radiant Empire, Cleft Isles, Greyport.

A lean, petite woman stood outside a keyhole-shaped doorway carved into the rocky cliffside, a bucket in one hand and a wet rag soaked in red in the other. Her white dress was old and patched up; stiff hazelnut curls exploded from her head in every direction, reined in only loosely by a yellow ribbon; freckles covered her whole face like mud splatters. Yet none of this could mar her beauty. Oh, her appearance was certainly plain, but she possessed the kind of glow that only came with perfect health, unshackled optimism, and a quiet serenity that could mesmerise the eyes.

Even so, when people slowed their steps along Cliffside’s winding path to stare at the freckled woman, it was not admiration in their eyes—but scorn. Some passersby even jeered openly as she vigorously scrubbed the blood-like stains defacing the front of her home. Old fishwives wrapped in shawls to ward off the biting cold whispered hushedly between them. The woman’s fate was surely well-deserved, they said. She had sinned against gods and decency, they said. They looked sanctimoniously down their noses at her, enjoying their schadenfreude while confident in their own virtue.

Unfazed, Kaydence’s mother kept working, wearing a soft smile and humming a strange tune to herself, seemingly oblivious to the contempt aimed at her.

Suddenly, the onlookers scattered like sheep sensing a wolf, as their target’s daughter came charging with bloody murder in her eyes. Shivering with rage, Kaydence slid to a halt at her mother’s side. Her hateful glare sifted through the surroundings for anyone still foolish enough to sneer their way. Finding none, she turned back to her vandalised home.

The grey rock around the entrance had not borne any fantastical paintings since shortly after Kaydence’s birth, back when the harassment started. For a while, Annet had painstakingly restored her work after each defacement—until they grew too frequent. Now, the wall remained empty, and the blank stone seemed to present a less tempting target for the neighbourhood kids. Months had passed since the last incident. Kaydence had even begun hoping they might have stopped altogether.

Her hope had obviously been misplaced.

Up close, the obscene graffiti looked even worse. Vulgar drawings and poorly-spelt insults were scrawled across the wall in dripping red paint. Right by the door, one especially foul doodle depicted a demonic stick figure—half-man, half-beast, horned, winged, and sporting oversized male genitalia—bending over a woman with unmistakable bushy hair. As if the offensive sketch was not explicit enough, an arrow pointed at the woman from words painted in big, bold, brutish strokes.

FILFY DAMON HORE

“Who did this?” Kaydence’s voice resembled a bestial growl. Her lips peeled back as if she were about to bite someone’s head off—literally. I’ll kill them. I’ll fucking kill them!

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“Sweetie! You’re back!” In sharp contrast, Annet acted completely unbothered. Dropping her rag and bucket, the petite woman wrapped her tall daughter in a surprise hug. “Haha! Caught you! Welcome home.”

Receiving an unexpected mouthful of hazelnut curls had quite the disruptive effect on Kaydence’s bloodthirst. After a few more sputtering roars, her anger begrudgingly retreated under the assault of Annet’s motherly embrace. Kaydence’s fried nerves eventually settled. Delicately—almost frightfully—she gripped the short woman’s shoulders and pushed her away. “Annet, what did I tell you about unsolicited physical contact?”

“I’m sorry, who’s this Annet person?” asked Annet, fluttering her eyelashes innocently.

Kaydence grimaced—not sulked. The reincarnation of the Dragon Demon King did not sulk. She pursed her lips as if she had bitten something sour. “…mother.”

“There we go.” Annet patted her daughter’s arm. “And, as you should know, it is a mother’s right to hug her cute daughter whenever she so desires! It is very essential for replenishing my Love mana,” she claimed with a straight face.

“That’s not a thing.”

Mana was this era’s word for aether, the fundamental energy that powered all magic. Mana permeated everything in this world—underpinning Creation, all of existence itself—and those who could tap into that power to bend reality to their will were called mages. Kaydence’s mother, however, was not a mage. She was about as mundane as a person could be. Moreover, there was no such thing as Love magic. Mind magic came close, but its implications differed vastly.

“Oh, Sweetie. Of course, it is a thing.” Annet cupped her daughter’s cheek and spoke softly, “Only true love can inspire someone to become not only stronger, but also a better version of themselves. If that’s not magic, I don’t know what is.”

Feeling suddenly uneasy under her mother’s gentle gaze, Kaydence leaned away from Annet’s touch and averted her red eyes. “People do terrible things in the name of love all the time.”

“The sun always casts some shadows. That doesn’t mean we should live in the dark.” Annet let her hand fall to her hip with an indulgent smile. “And speaking of dark, it’s getting late! Ahhh… I thought I’d have time to clean this nonsense up before dinner.” She gestured vaguely for the horrible drawings. “But I guess I let time slip away. Hahaha! Silly me.” Her carefree laughter pinched at Kaydence’s heartstrings.

“I’ll find who’s responsible,” she promised, her tone solemn. However, in her mind, she already knew who was to blame. If I wasn’t here, none of this–

“Don’t be daft, sweetie.” Annet waved dismissively. “It’s just a childish prank. No harm done. Though I do wonder where those kids might have learned such awful things. So vulgar, too! Haha,” she chuckled merrily. “Oh, my. Was I this precocious at their age, I wonder?”

Kaydence sighed. “Dammit, woman…”

But Annet was not listening anymore. “I should have a word with Lector Burtin tomorrow after class. Some of your schoolmates have obviously not been paying attention in their language lessons. That’s not how you write– Well, anyhoo.” She cut herself with a little cough. She twirled, all smiles, toward the tiny half-elf, who was staring pensively at the vandalised wall. “Sarmin, love. Welcome home as well! Did you have a good day?”

“Eh?!” Sarmin jumped, startled out of his thoughts. “Ah, y-yes? It… It was f-f-fine, Auntie. Are you okay?” he asked with a cute frown.

“Awww.” Annet melted. “Yes, love, all good. It’s sweet of you to ask.” She pinched the little kid’s cheek. “Did you gather everything without issue?”

His green eyes flickered to Kaydence. “Y-yes, Auntie.”

“And did Kay help this time, or did she slack off again?” Annet’s smile twinkled with mischief.

Kaydence’s stance suddenly straightened. Her red eyes cast warning looks at the tiny boy over her mother’s shoulder, and Sarmin’s pale face quickly drained from all remaining colours. “I– I– N-N-No-No– I m-mean, y-y-ye-YES!! She-She helped! Sh-She-She-She helped lo-lots!” Not only his voice, but his entire body was shaking.

“Oh, lots? I see. I see.” Annet nodded blithely. “It’s good that she did.” Sarmin slumped in relief. She patted his head indulgently. “Now, love, your father is inside helping with the meal. Why don’t you give him a hand while I have a quick word with my big, sweet goofball, hm?”

The boy needed not to be told twice. Kaydence scowled at his back as he disappeared through the door.

“Sweetie…”

The girl’s expression faded. Again, she could not meet her mother’s eyes.

A cold, wet hand brushed aside the black locks that hid her sullen face. Kaydence snatched it and glared at Annet’s fingers. The digits were pruney, pallid and stiff. She instinctively sensed the narrowed blood flow and knew how numb and tingling they felt. “You’re freezing,” she reproached. “How long have you been out here? You should have let Lenril take care of this. He’s mute and deaf, not infirm. Plus, he’s an elf. They’re tougher than they look.”

“Is that why you’ve been making Sarmin do all your chores?” There was no rebuke in Annet’s voice. She shifted her hand in her daughter’s grasp to intertwine their fingers. “Sweetie, I know you are… not like the other kids. You’re smart, strong, and more capable than I can ever hope to be–”

“I’m no–”

“Let me finish.” Annet pressed a cold finger over Kaydence’s lips. “I understand being different can make it… difficult to connect with others. Many are not ready to see the beauty in uniqueness, and I would never force you to befriend those who cannot appreciate yours. But surely you can ease up on Sarmin a little? You know how much that boy looks up to you.”

“I never wanted him to,” Kaydence grumbled. “And he needs to toughen up. The world’s not a kind place to weaklings.”

“Is that what you think? That he’s weak?” That got the girl to cast a questioning glance at her mother. Annet only answered with one of her mysterious smiles that continually frustrated Kaydence. “But you don’t get to decide what people think of you—nor should you feel owed to conform to their views. Regardless, it’s no skin off your back, so don’t be so harsh with him, will you? Can I trust you with that?” Kaydence’s eyes were shifting away again, so Annet gently pulled her daughter’s head back towards her. “Please, sweetie? For me?”

Eventually, Kaydence dipped her head. “…I’ll try.”

The petite woman caught her big daughter in another hug, to Kaydence’s awkward dismay.

“I love you, Kay. Never doubt that… ‘kay?”

Kaydence groaned. “Let’s just get inside before you freeze over.”

Annet simply laughed at her daughter’s embarrassment. She ended the hug but kept Kaydence’s hand in hers, picking her bucket up with the other. “I’ll finish this later.”

“No, you won’t.”

Annet ignored her. “Come on. Dinner should be ready.” She pulled Kaydence inside, and the tall girl could only let herself be dragged along. One last time, her uneasy gaze fleeted over the vulgar drawings on the wall before falling on their entwined fingers—her bronze digits with her mother’s pure white, frostbitten and dripping blood-red.

* * * * *