There she was, at last—the widow in all her glory, finally arriving upon the city of Beuzaheim.
According to Malwine’s imagination, anyway. As much as she tried to visualize her double waltzing right out of The Fire, decked out in a fashion lifted right from the pages of a Victorian recreation magazine, she knew she probably wouldn’t be doing it justice. She almost wished her [Remote Reading] worked like remote viewing in general, if only to bask in the experience properly.
She dismissed the form and resummoned it within a blink. This version of her double looked closer to the widow’s old neighbor, Margaret, rather than her real self—as much as she liked creating the widow, she would have stood out too much.
The moment she began her approach in earnest, she felt as though the world itself were buzzing in anticipation alongside her.
Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately?—for her, it turned out cities apparently set their wards quite some distance away from the literal line of fire, much like her own family’s estate did. As far as she could tell, literally no one saw her.
Perhaps that was for the best.
The widow had never been a mature person, if Malwine was being honest. There was only so much time itself could do to a personality when factors like a stolen childhood and general preferences came into play. She’d had her moments, and would never have gone so far as to pretend she was fully keeping up with the times, but she had to confess…
…Yeah, she might have been a little immature.
It had been easier to ignore when she was completely stuck in her current physical form. She truly had no excuse now, at least whenever she was using her doubles.
No excuse beyond the fact that I feel like it, that is.
Her spirits were still high, especially now that she was so close to Beuzaheim and its registry. She’d half a mind to just ditch the entire idea of exploration until after she’d taken care of that.
With her testing, she’d managed to determine which Skills were accepted by [Earthless Glory], carefully noted down in a list because Malwine would certainly not have remembered that offhand.
[Shieldwork]
[Home Sweet Home]
[Learning by Reading]
[Nosy Old Lady]
[Write Anywhere]
[Close to my Chest]
For her first foray into Beuzaheim, she’d chosen [Write Anywhere]. As much as she would have loved to fire off [Remote Reading] like rain peppering the city, she had to be practical about this. She would likely need some reconnaissance notes. Besides, nothing so far had implied she couldn’t just view the records from all the way in her room, if it came to that. All she had to do was find out where they were.
If all she got was a general idea, that would surely make things a bit harder, but Malwine would manage.
She was here now—and failure had never been an option from the moment she learned there was a registry. It almost bordered on mania, really.
It had frankly taken long enough for her to start going off the rails since getting [Earthless Glory].
Malwine was walking around! Doing things! Granted, she had yet to attain anything to show for it, but this was a good start.
That said, there was something off-putting about being without so many of her Skills. As this final stretch drew to a close, Malwine couldn't help but notice how much she looked forward to this.
Perhaps a bit too much, like a hyperfixation taken to a previously undiscovered extreme, and all of it, directed at her hopefully imminent investigation. The widow had her episodes, but even by her standards, this might have been cause for concern.
Thank fuck this astral projection version of me can't hyperventilate.
That would have been utterly embarrassing, especially if she was alone. At least if someone were around, she could have played it off to maneuver the widow into a position where she could gather information. For all her flaws, it wasn't as though the system had been wrong about her being a nosy old lady.
Malwine simply chose to take offense anyway.
Her train of thought continued spiraling, going as far as for her to forget what she had been wanting to do mere seconds ago.
This was bad.
Clutching her head, Malwine winced. Had something happened, and she just hadn't noticed? No, she could feel her real self in the distance, perfectly healthy.
If only she had [Unpacifiable]... but no, [Earthless Glory] would not allow her to choose it for the double. That selective exclusion of some of her Skills was something Malwine had yet to make sense of.
She briefly wondered if she should dismiss the double and return with another Skill, or perhaps postpone her visit entirely.
She shook her head aggressively, and then some more.
As she drew closer to Beuzaheim, the shapes shifted from blobs in the distance to distinct—if poorly detailed—buildings. Beyond that, she could tell little apart, but there was another pressing matter to consider. Malwine had thought about it, and after not only discarding many options but also failing to find any conveniently placed baby name books in the family library, she’d had to make a choice herself.
If she wanted to go for the true pseudo-Germanic experience, she might as well just pretend her name was Kunegunda. The temptation had been there for a while, ever since Malwine had started thinking about what type of cover story she wanted to work with, and it had never quite left.
Kunegunda, just an old lady from off in the distance. If she had to come up with a fake town name, she might be doomed, but she had enough experience with the knowledge that people didn’t question old people too much.
Some more head-shaking later, Malwine found herself questioning her state of mind again.
Was she really going to let paranoia take root at this point? She wasn't deluded enough to deny that the distance she felt between herself and [Unpacifiable] was unnerving.
But Malwine wasn't physically here. She would not jinx things by assuring herself everything would be fine, but there was no need to start having a crisis here and now. What she had were reasons to rejoice, all around, and here she was—looking for a reason to panic.
If something—anything at all—did happen, Malwine knew she would be blaming herself forever for letting her guard down. But if she diverted all her efforts to staying alert, her investigation would be impacted. Even if she'd somehow been able to access [Multitasking] instead—and she had tried to use it as a loophole, she really had—she would not have her heart fully into it.
Malwine frowned. Whatever this was, last minute regrets, last minute concerns, she had to get a hold of herself.
Again, she literally wasn't here.
She took slow, deliberate breaths, drawing on the widow's fractured memories of that one time she got really into pursed-lip breathing after a health scare.
Her form might have been a mere double, but Malwine could have sworn she no longer felt like she was about to have a long-overdue breakdown. So long as I don't think about how I was just about to have a—
Oh, look. She could make out the figures of people in the distance now, and they were getting closer at a relatively slow pace.
She could hardly wait to encounter them. Really, she went as far as to pick up the pace, her walk becoming brisk as she moved to meet them halfway.
Malwine was aware of her shaking.
Holy shit. Am I really this… fucking discombobulated without [Cool Head on Your Shoulders]?
That had to be it, or so, some part of her mind had concluded, at some point. Perhaps it was not the lack of the Skill itself so much as how unused to its absence she was.
Before, she'd had the drive to ignore almost anything beyond her goal. She wanted to get to Beuzaheim, and all her efforts when going out as her double had been directed at that.
Yet the second that was done… Malwine felt as though her mind might be coming apart at the seams.
It wasn't a flood of emotions so much as feeling clogged by the shredded phantoms of things she hadn't even noticed. Echoes and tangled feelings, dulled and unprocessed, but undiscarded. And at the forefront of all that, lay her genuine excitement.
Whether it truly was that strong was lost to Malwine, but in her current state, she wanted to dart to the registry as soon as she could. Literally, if possible.
If it turns out I'm literally just excited and some weird instance of Skill withdrawal is shaking me up, I will be so mad.
She now wished she had gone and dismissed the double earlier, as that wasn’t an option anymore. Now all she could do was try to play it cool, difficult as it was. She could not afford to make a scene this early on, not when she wanted to get there as quickly as possible.
The individuals walking towards her were three in number, now close enough for her to see more. Two appeared to be men, with the last one seemingly being a rather short woman, and they were uniformed. It was a simple thing, just a gray tunic with a long vest over it, reminiscent of those diamond-quilted vests Kristian wore.
Just as they were about to reach her, something within Malwine rose, like an impromptu buzzing stemming straight from her core. It trembled once, twice, thrice—its speed picked up exponentially, building up as pressure in her ears until the entire thing, whatever it was, faded with a single impression of a pop.
She got the generalized impression that something had tried to reach her and been rebuffed.
Not to mention, Malwine was calm now—by Malwine standards, anyway. Perhaps it would have been more closely defined as a sense of everything being back to normal.
Yet it was such an abrupt change that her mind was reeling all over again. What just happened? Suddenly, she was not so sure this had had anything to do with the absence of [Cool Head on Your Shoulders].
“Welcome, madam!” the taller of the two men waved at her. He rocked a familiar stubble-beard combo with shoulder-length hair—was her grandfather’s style based on local trends or something?—but was frankly not anywhere near tanned enough to pull it off. “You should not exit the walls during The Fire!”
She nodded—that was sound advice, probably. “I am aware!” Malwine joined in on the shouting, since they did not appear intent on actually walking the rest of the way to her. “I was meditating and lost track of time.”
That, of all things, seemed to be what lowered the first man’s guard. “Oh, man. I’ve been there. You’re lucky you stayed out of the line of fire,” he snickered. “Literally. I’m Heinrich, by the way.”
“Kunegunda.”
The other man was staring at her like she was a literal alien, while the woman moved closer to greet her as well. “Maria’s the name. Do you need an escort back to town? It isn’t safe out here.”
“Sure,” Malwine agreed. She was starting to conclude they were guards of a sort, and though that carried the risk of them being corrupt or otherwise dangerous, they might be useful to her, in her current persona. “You don’t have to tell me twice—felt my heart falter then and there when I noticed.”
Oh, how she wished she could just use [Identify].
“I can imagine,” Heinrich whistled. “You have an admirable spine, though. I wouldn’t even dare try my hand at isolation training in The Harvest, even with the full month left.”
“Live and learn, they say. I’ve lived a lot, and I’ve come to learn, the mistakes never stop.”
Maria nodded as if some profound snippet of wisdom had just been shared with her. “How true.”
“Indeed,” Heinrich said. “My mother always said no one learns from the mistakes of others, no matter how wise.”
The third guard was still shooting glares in her direction. Got a problem, buddy?
“So, Kunegunda, how did you find yourself meditating outside the city walls, anyway?”
“I needed to stretch my legs,” Malwine said as she nodded sagely, her gaze on Maria’s. “It’s good for circulation at this age, plus it serves as a nice and easy reminder of all that’s good in life. Finding a good meditation spot was just some unforeseen luck.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The rest of the walk to Beuzaheim proper went similarly, and by when they got there, Malwine’s—well, Kunegunda’s—cover story had expanded. She was a wandering scholar looking to break through to Core Integration, and possibly had a refined background. Malwine was trying to keep it vague, not even elaborating on what Kunegunda allegedly studied, but her current outfit likely painted enough of a picture by itself. She’d been going for a Bernie vibe when she made this double.
A few times, the buzzing returned, though it was much fainter, and never again did her sense of normalcy falter. She was starting to notice a pattern between that and the glaring, actually.
“And you, young man?” Malwine looked over her shoulder to the third guard, her tone perhaps icier than she intended it to be. “Who would you be?”
“Johann.”
That was it. Curt, bland, and with one of the most common names in the country, at that. If someone was going to piss her off, couldn’t they at least bother having a memorable name? It didn’t help that she had no idea why someone would try using a Skill on her, let alone some random guard.
What kind of Skill would it be, anyway? Malwine pondered the matter as they walked. Besides, if she was right and the guard had anything to do with how out of sorts she felt earlier, what was she going to do? This did feel like the type of thing she should not leave unanswered, yet she wasn’t exactly in a position to go for a direct confrontation, not as it stood.
All she had was [Write Anywhere], and an inkling. Summoning the description for the first Skill she’d obtained on her own almost brought a smile to her lips.
[Write Anywhere]
The world is all parchment and your thoughts are a quill. You may impress the written word upon anything non-living. [Toll] is accrued by writing as well as dismissing previously imprinted text. Writing on anything that doesn’t remain static will lead to additional costs. Skill limited to the written word. You must know the script or language you intend to use.
Trait: [Blank Panel]. Generate an empty panel the size of your head. This panel is persistent and may be toggled to invisibility. You may have as many panels as the level of the Skill this Trait is attached to.
Aspect: None
This system clearly tolerated creative Skill usage—if something sounded right and wasn’t specifically excluded from the ability’s capabilities, it was probably possible.
Not once had Malwine felt the need to use her panels for anything other than taking notes, not really, but nothing about the Trait told her they had to be only for herself, even if, granted, the Skill itself seemed geared for personal use. It similarly didn’t enforce a location for where she had to make them, even if she had always created them where she could see them.
“I thank you for the assistance. Heinrich, Maria,” Malwine tipped her head as she waved her goodbyes to the guards she was the least likely to strangle. They had been kind enough to provide her with directions to the local office where marriages were registered—Kunegunda supposedly had a grandson and she wanted to make sure he hadn’t been up to anything with his girlfriend.
As much as she wanted to, she did not head in that direction immediately, going as far as hiding the panel to assuage the temptation. No, she had a matter to take care of before she could. She took a turn on what appeared to be an empty street beyond the building she believed to be the guardhouse, a stable to its side, and leaned against the wall.
She could hear neighs from there.
Malwine couldn’t recall when the last time she had really sought to get involved in social contests with someone had been, not since her encounters with Margaret and the professor, and those had been tame enough. Her opportunities to converse with her family had been sparse, even if their reactions amused her to no end on occasion, and that conversation with Veit had been more annoying than anything else.
Now, she would have no qualms about going about it again. Having a relatively functional adult form probably played a part in it. The widow herself had behaved in an exemplary fashion for years before her death, but those urges had never truly gone away.
Is it bad that I kind of missed this? Malwine sighed as she kept her back to the wall. If there was something the widow had never lacked, it was reasons to think people were universally assholes. Deriving amusement from getting back at people was easier to justify when they gave her reason to refuse to sympathize with them.
It would probably be better if she didn’t dwell on that any further.
Malwine reached for her [Blank Panel] Trait and the Skill it was attached to, and visualized this Johann, her target for the time being.
Have you no shame?
She imagined him freezing and shuddering, confused as to why the panel had appeared before him, even if she couldn’t witness it. Reusing the panel, she continued.
Have you the faintest clue as to who you have offended?
She waited for the next tick of her [Toll], the closest thing she had to a timer.
Approach the stables. Go alone and do not draw attention to yourself, or you will not live to regret it.
Is this too much? Malwine only debated the matter for a few seconds. Nah. He deserves it.
“I am… here,” Johann’s voice was still audible from the stables, if barely. Without her attributes, even weakened as they were, the distance would have likely been too difficult to overcome.
Why did you dare use a Skill on my grandmother? You have five seconds to explain yourself.
Pretending to be her own imaginary grandchild—who indeed eloped behind Kunegunda’s back, if anyone asked—was a twofold strategy. Namely, she wanted to keep responsibility for this away from Kunegunda herself… and admittedly, her appearance was not particularly threatening by itself.
“I… I didn’t know!” the panic in the guard’s voice was a sharp contrast to his earlier demeanor. It was almost satisfying to hear. “I am used to testing any arrivals who I don’t recognize, and I did not know she was your grandmother, whoever you are! I’m sorry! Spare me, please!”
Perhaps Malwine had not been giving [Write Anywhere] and its companion Trait enough credit. She had been assuming OBeryl had been a scribe and nothing else, but this reaction was going beyond her expectations. The man had not questioned a single thing, simply following what the panels told him to do.
Which Skill was it, and what does it do? Answer truthfully, or I will know.
Kunegunda’s imaginary grandson was a menace.
“It’s a
And, oh, guard seeking the city's safety, answer me true: do you make a habit of targeting the elderly?
“What? No! I do it to strangers as a rule. It was not personal, I swear! I just want to keep the city safe.”
Was that why you dared be so woefully impolite to her?
Fine, fine—perhaps Malwine had been a bit peeved about all that glaring.
“I admit I might have been impolite after I encountered resistance, but I was simply bothered by that. It is uncommon, and I acted rashly. I am sorry.”
She knew he wasn’t really sorry so much as seemingly terrified of this dangerous person he believed he had attracted the ire of, but there was not much else she could currently do, beyond hoping fear would be enough.
Not used to people not being easy targets, are you?
“Again, I did not meet to offend you, or your grandmother! This is simply standard protocol for me, and never in a million years would I have dared to willfully offend a [Forger]. I beg of you, please, forgive me.”
Oh?
“Please!”
I believe we both know you will simply do it again if given the chance.
“I will not test the elderly!” Johann insisted. Really, that was his main takeaway from this?
It was genuinely bizarre for Malwine, but she wasn’t about to complain when things were going well. She had wanted some payback, and she was getting just that.
That is a good start. But target my grandmother again, and it will be the last thing you do.
“I will not!”
You better not. I will be watching. Return to your duties at once, and speak of this to no one.
“Thank you, thank you! I will not!”
Malwine remained in that state of amusement tinged with shock, the results still somewhat unbelievable.
But wasn’t she forgetting something?
Oh, right.
And if you encounter my grandmother, tell her I'll introduce her to my new wife later. Say that complications beyond my control prevented a proper wedding, she'll know what I mean.
If Johann said anything in reaction to that, it was too far for her to hear, but Kunegunda’s lore had to keep expanding, after all.
Still, this encounter had revealed something unpleasant—this double wasn’t without weaknesses in the end, even if she had managed to shake off the effects of his Skill. Truly, she didn’t even know how she had. It had simply happened.
In any case, she was done, though [Toll] had not made it through unscathed. [Write Anywhere]’s cost in [Toll] was almost negligible, but between that and the time spent here, she had accrued almost as much as it would have taken her to resummon the double anew.
With a sigh, Malwine moved away from the wall, returning to the main street to follow the directions she’d saved. As she walked, she couldn’t help but notice how, at whichever hour this was, the streets were nearly empty.
If Johann spoke the truth—and she believed he had—none of what she felt had been false, and Malwine was not in a mood to sort through any of that. Learning of such a vulnerability was uncomfortable, but the rational part of her brain reminded her that it meant she could work on patching it up, now that she knew of it. Somehow.
The matter was handled for now, though she would still have to keep an eye out for the guard, if only to ensure he didn’t bother her. The fragile peace of her journey here was shattered, and while her joy at being here and all that implied remained, it was muted now.
Beyond that, most embers of genuine rage at the guard had been smothered by the knowledge that the man would likely be living in terror for the foreseeable future.
There was only one thing Malwine had yet to make heads or tails of—why the hell did Johann think he had pissed off a [Forger]?