Malwine got her priorities in order soon enough—the most important part about the plan was to ensure Adelheid had no idea of what was going on, at least not with enough exactitude to make sense of it. The girl could be terrifyingly smart at times, but she was still a four-year-old toddler.

That would admittedly not be the easiest thing to pull off. She would need Adelheid’s help. But it would probably be best for her little sister to remain in the dark about the whole seriously-setting-the-sibyl-on-fire plan.

She did have some… qualms about it. Even knowing it was undead, and with all sources so far claiming they were either husks or mindless, Malwine still couldn’t help but think back to everything Adelheid would say. About what her great-grandmother would have said. Granted, from what Malwine understood, the sibyl never actually spoke or moved. Adelheid was somehow using her {Implicit} Affinity to know what her great-grandmother would have said, had she been capable of it.

Still, the sibyl had some degree of awareness, to be able to attack her as it had.

Really? Is it really the time to hesitate about putting a zombie down? Malwine sighed, shaking her head. She’d have loved to think she was well-versed in proper escalation, in measured responses. That when she did something drastic, it was because truly, there would be no other way. ‘Kill it with fire!’ made for a poor reflex reaction, even if it had ended up being mentioned as a valid strategy. Malwine hadn’t known that when she first thought of it, after all—she’d just felt threatened enough to suggest it.

As for the secondary concerns… how exactly was Malwine supposed to reduce the sibyl to ashes? Even if she did somehow manage to set the undead on fire, there was no guarantee a fire would manage to burn hot enough for that. Especially if the sibyl was truly that powerful.

That book outright suggested getting an Immortal to do it. What rank are Immortals?

The urge to send a double off to ask Veit whether he was an Immortal was strong, but she knew the answer would be a likely no—mostly because she refused to entertain the possibility of Abelard being one as well.

“Adelheid,” Malwine started, feeling slightly guilty about interrupting the girl’s latest hair-ornament additions. “I need you to find me some dry wood.”

“Dry wood?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” Adelheid disappeared, leaving Malwine to wait. It was only around a minute before she returned. “How do I know if it’s dry?”

“Uh. Pat it?”

“Okay!” she was off again.

Malwine closed her eyes. Getting the wood down there would be risky, but she could probably get Adelheid to throw it in and flee immediately. She fully believed in the girl’s ability to defend herself, so long as all the ‘defending’ required was the art of running away.

Adelheid returned a few moments later. “Malwine?”

Malwine opened her eyes. “Yes?”

“I can’t find any wood.”

I guess that was always a possibility. Veit did say he didn’t cut trees down… But I’d have thought the estate must have needed firewood for at least something?

“Where did you search?”

“Outside and near the mangal,” Adelheid said. “Inside, I only checked the closets. There are people everywhere. Searching for something.”

I deny any responsibility for this, Malwine nodded along. “I see… Let me think, and I’ll get back to you with another idea.”

“Okay!” Adelheid wasted no time before making yet another ribbon appear from thin air.

It struck Malwine that she didn’t recall the widow ever needing to know how to do this type of thing. She must have at least watched some survival tutorials or the like—because that was simply the type of thing the widow would have done—but Malwine couldn’t pull up any particular memories. She was working off the occasional trace vague recollections at most.

What was it that people in those videos used? Rocks? Or was it metal?

She briefly wished she had {Ore} planted, but even if she had been capable of adding another Root currently, doing it for a single specific plan sounded wasteful.

“Can you go to the kitchen and grab me two pieces of metal? Important detail: nothing sharp!”

“Okay!”

“Nothing sharp, Adelheid!”

“I know, I heard you!”

Malwine felt the need to scratch her head as her little sister left. She almost felt bad for the request, and wouldn't be at ease until the girl returned. She tapped idly at the floor before her, any sense to her sitting position long forgotten—being too young to really care about back tension was really one of those small mercies at times.

Adelheid popped back in soon after, two thin handles between her fingers. She placed the items she’d fetched before Malwine, giggling. “Nobody saw me!”

“Good,” Malwine smiled back at the girl, examining what she’d brought back. They appeared to be… measuring cups? Specifically metal ones, of the smallest variants, though they weren’t labeled with specific amounts. Their handles were longer than her current forearm size.

This should work. Probably. What else are we missing…?

“Were there any dry spices in the kitchen?”

Adelheid nodded. “You mean those smelly mesh bags? Brown or beige sometimes?”

“Those should be it, yes. Maybe in tins or glass jars as well.”

“I’ll check!”

As the girl left, Malwine found herself questioning the wisdom of this approach. Would the house really have anywhere near enough of any dry seasonings to matter? She’d grown to think of the estate as a place of excess, seeing as no one seemed to care about money, and, from what she learned during the census, half of the staff worked there just because. There wasn’t any real need for this many people to be working here, but the expense seemed irrelevant to Bernie.

In other words, Malwine was pretty sure her family was more than rich enough for her to feel no guilt about setting their kitchen’s spices on fire.

Adelheid started appearing and disappearing, dumping handfuls of translucent bags on the floor. The girl had been right—some of the scents were potent. Still, Malwine could see the ground leaves within some, while others appeared to be simply minced. This should do?

Arguably, the bags were making for a more convincing prospect as far as kindling went. They were just so much bigger, and made from suspiciously papery fabric. She didn’t know what type it might be, not exactly, but she was getting the unfounded impression that they should have been pretty flammable.

How did I end up in this situation, again? Malwine couldn’t help but descend into a brief spiral of disjointed introspection. She quickly shook it off and resumed her certainly well-thought-out plan. Certainly!

“Those were all,” Adelheid said as she threw the last ones down. The pile was nearly as high as either of them sitting down, but it wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to cover the sibyl with, let alone sustain a fire. “If you needed this many dry leaves, why didn’t we just grab some from outside?”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“From—?” Malwine blinked, then caught herself, leaning forward to audibly groan—she’d genuinely forgotten that. Most of the trees she’d encountered weren’t the type to shed leaves on the colder seasons, but there was plenty of vegetation within the estate, most of which she’d never even seen. Of course it stood to reason there were probably some with some leaf piles accumulating under them… “You’re right, we should have done that.”

Adelheid gave her a suspiciously smug grin.

Malwine could only sigh. “Can you check if anyone in the family has an empty basket lying around that we could steal?”

“Stealing is wrong!”

“Right. Stealing is wrong. Can you check if anyone in the family has an empty basket lying around and borrow it so we can return it later?”

“Okay!” Adelheid said, popping out of the room.

We are absolutely not returning that.

Once the basket was indeed in their possession, Malwine bit her lip, struggling to settle on a way to phrase her next instructions. “We’re going to take care of your great-grandma. Nicely. But for that, you’ll have to visit her a few times and leave some stuff with her. First, I need you to understand—if absolutely anything happens, you book it out of there?”

“I don’t have any books.”

“I mean, run away quickly from there.”

“Oh!”

“You’re going to fill this basket up and take the spice pouches with you. You’re going to throw them at your great-grandma and cover her as best as you can without getting too close. Don’t touch her and try to avoid anything falling into the puddles. It’s so she has nice stuff to smell down there instead of just that damp room stench.”

“Okay!”

Sometimes, Malwine wished her little sister gave some more varied responses. Adelheid would shout back an “Okay!” regardless of whether you were giving her a language lesson or telling her to try to bury her great-grandmother in spice pouches.

Adelheid returned with the once again empty basket. “Done! I could only cover her one leg and the little piece of the other one, though.”

“Next up, fill that up with dry leaves outside, and show them to me when you’re done,” Malwine was quite confident that the girl understood the meaning of ‘dry leaves’, but you could never be too safe with that little menace.

She did bring back a full basket of dry leaves, in the end. “Okay, Adelheid, now you’re going to put those everywhere around your great-grandma. Cover the rest of her if you can. If you can’t, go grab more dry leaves, and show them to me.”

It became a surprisingly organized task beyond that point. Malwine would approve of Adelheid’s choices in leaves—she truly didn’t ever pick up fresh leaves—and send her off to continue covering her grandmother in dry leaves.

“Malwine, why are we doing this again?”

“It’s a sign of respect. Since she can’t become an obit, we bury her so she can rest better.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you! Why didn’t you tell me about that sort of thing before?”

“Because most people turn into obits so it never matters.”

“Oh! That makes sense!”

It was a little white lie. Well, a string of carefully curated white lies.

“Are there any twigs where you’re getting those leaves from?”

“A few. Why?”

“Start grabbing those two so the leaves can have some nice structural support.”

“I see!”

“She’s mostly covered by now,” Adelheid informed her. “I can’t fill the area around her because of the puddles.”

“Can you make some piles around the puddles?”

“Sure.”

Malwine felt odd, sitting still for so long. Most of what she did was give Adelheid instructions. With a presumable search party out there, she didn’t want to risk sending her double to check on anywhere within the estate. Veit’s looming future return also weighed heavily on her—she could only hope they could get this done before she had to have a conversation with that asshole.

I am a master at safety! And there he is, wanting to speak to me about safety!

Malwine huffed, still alone in the room.

Adelheid returned after showering her great-grandmother in the latest batch of leafy gifts. “She’s almost impossible to see.”

“Can you cover her a bit more then? Make sure she’s fully covered?”

With a nod, the girl went again, though her return was quick. “Done.”

“Okay,” Malwine smiled, giving her little sister an appreciative pat in the back. “All that’s left is for you to put the two metal things in there, as far as possible from her, in a space that’s dry. What about next to the metal curtain?”

“Sure,” Adelheid said. “But why are we giving her the tiny metal things?”

“It’s an offering, so she can have nice and shiny metal next to her wherever she is. When you meet a sibyl that’s mad at you, I read giving them a nice blanket of dry leaves with some metal pieces around is the best thing to do if you want to make them happier.”

“Aw!” Adelheid seemed pleased to hear this. “So she won’t be mad at me anymore?”

“Only time will tell. What I read said that we’ve got to leave her alone with the leaves for a few years, maybe even a few decades. It takes a long time for sibyls to calm down, so she’s going to have to spend a lot of time appreciating our gifts.”

“Aw…” this time, the sound was not one of joy.

“But look at it this way—we’re doing it for her sake, not ours!”

“I guess…”

I almost feel bad for lying to her. But what else am I supposed to do, tell her, ‘hey, Adelheid, this is actually a ploy to set the undead remains of your great-grandmother on fire so that the sea that may or may not be possessing her doesn’t try to kill us’?

Malwine’s plan was ultimately simple—well, as simple as it could be for something that bordered on ridiculous. But she was short on time and creativity alike, with a day as difficult as this one. At least, that would be her excuse for herself if she ever regretted any of this in hindsight.

“What now?” Adelheid asked expectantly, sitting cross-legged across her.

“I’m going to go explore with my double,” Malwine told her. “It might take me a while.”

“Didn’t you say the forest guy had noticed you somehow?” her little sister looked horrified. “Be careful!”

You are too precious…

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” Mostly.

With that, Malwine sent her double off, reappearing in the dark room. She fiddled with a small shield immediately, to allow herself some lighting as she worked. Adelheid had indeed left the measuring cups next to the metallic wall Katrina had presumably sealed the room off with, and her double picked them up, [Toll] cost be damned.

Of all steps, this might have been the most difficult. Not in concept, but in execution. Malwine was pretty sure just making these two hit each other enough should eventually either heat them up enough to start a fire or generate sparks for the same purposes.

If all else fails, rely on magic bullshit.

Unfortunately for her, it just wasn’t working. Perhaps it was the intangibility of her double, perhaps it was the material—hell, it could have been her own incompetence. Watching videos in a past life did not always translate into workable skills, after all. Especially not when she’d never put them to practice in either life.

Back to the drawing board. Malwine dropped the measuring cups right there with a groan, and dismissed the double. She didn’t have anything else she could use for this. She thought of summoning the locket and directing light at it to see if she could somehow start a fire with the reflected light, but no, that was unlikely to work with the glow of her shields, of all things… It was infuriating that she didn’t have anything she could use to—

Malwine’s eyes narrowed slowly. She summoned the candle she’d gotten from revealing harvestables. Within her grasp, it gave her the same impression objects like the harvestables themselves or Katrina’s obit did—that instinctive knowledge that she could accrue [Toll] to use them.

Candle of Connection

Harvested by Malwine Rīsanin

Revealed by Malwine Rīsanin

Candlelight illuminates that which connects us all, that which brought forth Existence before the beginning, and will push past the frailty of eternity forevermore.

“Hey, Adelheid, I forgot one thing. Can you put this on the corner with the metal things?”

Adelheid blinked. “So pretty. But okay. What’s it for?”

“Symbolism, you know. It’s normal to light candles at funerals.”

“Oh!”

Once the girl was back, and the candle there, Malwine sent her double off again. Either this works or it doesn’t.

She knelt next to the candle. Her stalled shield’s light made all of the room’s puddles it touched appear made of shimmering, blue-purple glass. With a giant pile of leaves at the center of the wall instead of a corpse, it was easier to appreciate the strangeness of the place itself.

Malwine sighed despite her double’s intangibility, pressing her right fingertip against the wick.

She felt something akin to the prickling of a finger as she accrued over a dozen points in [Toll], pulling back with a wince. The candle set itself alight almost immediately, and she gripped its nondescript sides, allowing the iridescent flame to touch the leaves.

The sight was so bizarre that Malwine almost regretted having used the candle—this looked too complex to be meeting its end setting a sibyl on fire. Setting the candle back down, between the leaves, she watched the unnatural flames spread.

The suffocating scent of potpourri mixed with charred unknowns filled her nostrils with little regard to her double’s technical nonexistence, and Malwine had to dismiss it right then.

It was done.

Malwine spoke without opening her eyes. “Remember, Adelheid, now you can’t visit her again for a few years, while she’s calming down.”

“Of course, silly. It’s sad, but I heard you the first time.”