Alister was walking down the main street of the town when he realized he had no idea where Wisteria actually lived. She had always come to his house, so there was never a need to seek her out. All he had to do was ask around and he was pointed in the right direction.
Her house was… modest.
Damn. Was that even the right word here? It was downright depressing. The building was old and small, probably at least 100 years old, and made of stones and mud as the binder. Cracks were here and there. It was not like it was horrible or dirty, it just… it made him feel bad for living so well. Had he forgotten the pain of poverty?
Balling up his fist in frustration at himself, Alister knocked on the door. Wisteria’s mom answered. He had only met her a few times before. Her name was Myrtle. She was a beautiful woman with black hair and eyes just like her daughter, but she was thin. How gaunt she was was more apparent than usual right now.
“Oh! Lord Alister,” she said, side-stepping to allow him in, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting visitors. Please excuse the mess. Wisteria is in the garden tending to the plants. I’ll put on a pot of water.”
Alister bowed his head in thanks and walked in, giving the place a critical glance. It was small. One, no, two rooms total. One for sleeping and one for everything else. No bathroom inside. He walked out to the garden, which was larger than the house, and smiled at Wisteria who was kneeling over a plot of yellow-stemmed herbs.
“Hey,” he said.
She looked up and beamed, waving as she stood, “Oh hey!! Why’d you come here? I would’ve shown up eventually. Did ya miss me that much?”
Alister chuckled, planting a hand on his tiny hip, “As if. Hey. Does your mom eat enough?”
“What sort of question is that?”
“I just… I mean… this place. Your house… you’re eating well but your mother is thin.”
Wisteria puffed her cheek and brushed the dirt off her hands onto her brown skirt, “We’re doing fine enough. Mom didn’t have a whole lot when we moved to this kingdom. She bought an abandoned house and we’ve been growing herbs to sell as potions. It’s not too bad. You worry too much.”
“I haven’t been worrying enough!” Alister snapped at her, then sighed and walked back inside, “Miss O’neah? Can I talk to you?”
Myrtle visibly tensed, fumbling with the teaspoon with a nervous laugh, “Of course, my lord.”
“Stop. Just call me Alister. Please. I don’t want the formalities. Certainly not in private,” he grumbled, sitting on the ground beside a rough-hewn table, “You don’t even have… just… Ma’am. I know what it looks like when someone goes hungry to make sure their loved one eats. Your home, I mean at least you have a home, but it's so small, and it's in rough shape. How can I help?”
Her eyes took on an edge, probably seeing a little kid looking down on her. Seeing someone who had no idea what struggles were turning his nose up at what she took pride in earning. He wanted to slap his forehead. Of course, she’d feel that way… young Raalin certainly would.
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“I… I don’t mean offense. They probably prefer I’m quiet about this part of my past, but I want to explain something,” he said, taking a deep breath as he prepared to tell his story again - sans anything to do with the gods, and that included his old name. He explained how he was poor most of his life, how he had nearly starved more than once, how many times he didn’t have a roof over his head. He explained things to her in a way he couldn’t to his father. His father couldn’t understand hardships of that kind, which was fine, it wasn’t his fault, and honestly it was nice that he didn’t have to worry about it. But it meant he couldn’t truly understand.
Wisteria and her mother could. That was an interesting realization. It pissed him off. He’d do everything in his power to make sure any friend of his lived well.
“So that’s that. Even as an Archmage it’s not like I lived particularly well. So I say again. I know what it looks like when someone goes without food. How can I help? Though I’ve experience with this sort of thing I can’t say I know what it’s like now. It’s been a long… long time.”
Wisteria looked kind of apologetic. She had an awkward smile on her face, while her mother still held a distrustful look in her eyes. Wisteria chuckled, “I can’t imagine being an orphan. Maybe the world is trying to make it up to you by having this life be nicer to you?”
Myrtle rested a hand on her daughter’s head, “Maybe. Look, Lord Alister… it’s not a simple issue. I’m doing fine, personally. I don’t need aid. We get by. The poorer caste exists no matter where you go. I might suggest to offer aid through programs rather than money outright. Money solves problems in the short term, but it solves none of the underlying issues. Your father, the Duke of the Severin territory, has the most populous of the duchies, though it is not the most profitable of them. Arfranz, to the east, has that title.”
Alister nodded along, considering her words, “I have been learning about the duchies and various noble families. Duke Arfranz has the largest trade hub for the nation, yes?”
She nodded, “He does, yes. But your father has the most of the large cities. The two have an interesting dynamic. But with wealth comes greed.”
“I know that well,” he said, giving a grim chuff of a laugh, “You know, I’m surprised. You aren’t talking to me as though I’m my age.”
“I don’t see why I would, my lord. You seem to be well-meaning and well-spoken. It would be rude to treat you differently. You’re nearing nine if I’m not mistaken, but you act like you’re in your teens. You say you remember so much on top of that, it would be wrong not to speak to you like an adult… albeit a young one. Rumors are rife with intrigue about you, young lord. I’m happy to see they don’t seem true,” seeing his raised brow, she laughed, visibly relaxing the more they spoke, “Some think you an invalid. Some believe you are ill with some disease, or that you went mad. You are rarely seen to most outside of your manor, and when you are seen, it is most often when something is going wrong - like your father with his wyvern or the discovery of an eldritch creature over level 100? The townsfolk are wont to talk. I’m not particularly close with any of them, but it’s hard to miss.”
Alister grinned, “Sounds like fun. I hardly mind a bit of intrigue. They can talk as much as they like. Thank you, though.”
“Of course. I doubt you came here just to ask for my opinion on policy reform, however. Something going on with Wisteria?”
“Ah, yes,” he said, motioning to her, “I want to ask if she can come with on a trip to the capital. We leave tomorrow. I’m sorry it’s short notice, but I just learned about it myself.” The two girls eyed each other in a short battle of wills before Myrtle sighed, defeated.
“Fine,” she said, and Wisteria shrieked with glee, “But! You must promise her safety. Wisteria, you must send message home often. With one of those magical messengers, if possible. And don’t let the duke and duchess walk all over you. If you are their guest you are to be treated with respect.”
Alister smiled wide at Wisteria and placed his hand against his chest with a dramatic half-bow at his only friend, “On my name, I promise she will return home safely.”