There was probably a line drawn somewhere between wanting to see someone get their comeuppance and just shameless schadenfreude, but Malwine was neither aware of where that may be nor particularly inclined to care.
Her only regret was having failed to figure the popcorn thing out prior to starting the trial, irrational as the thought was.
She’d have admitted she disliked Hanß at any point, but she hadn’t realized just how much she hated the man until now. His actions—both now and on the first trial—had told Malwine everything she needed to know about him as a person.
The only thing that truly surprised her was the Magister’s intervention, once the general giddiness at enjoying Hanß getting once again punted into a wall faded.
Come to think of it, had he not called Hanß out on fighting children the first time around as well?
Perhaps it was only natural that, in letting the situation escalate like this, Malwine had accidentally put the men in a position where their paths would cross negatively now.
And he’s important, Malwine reminded herself. The Magister.
She was pretty sure that the Magister was at the center of this trial’s fail conditions, given how the setting seemed far more conductive to exploration than Bernie’s trial. She had to keep him from noticing anything was amiss if she wanted to avoid getting booted off the trial before she could really move forward.
Unfortunately for her, she was pretty sure he’d noticed ‘Kristian’ was back here. His comment about an audience implied as much, even if the likely Immortal hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction so far.
All in all, Malwine had to give Hanß some credit—the man did keep standing up. His spiel about Zayden having deserved it had been replaced with unintelligible mumbles, something about how his superiors would hear of this.
Said complaints were met by deaf ears, as the Magister’s stoicism had reasserted itself. She could only see blurs whenever that guy moved.
It was frankly a little underwhelming.
Malwine took a few seconds to remind herself that she was not the asshole in this situation—sometimes, she had her doubts. Shaking her head, she watched on. It was the least she could do, even if this series of events was neither real nor entirely her responsibility.
In the end, her decisions had influenced the trial to go this way, and there may still have been something she could learn from this.
Even if she really, really wanted to resume her attempt at exploration.
At least Hanß hitting the wall got a smile out of her every time. [Imitation Beyond Filiality] was realistic enough that a few presumable members of the orphanage’s staff had poked their heads out, understandably baffled by how what appeared to be one of their offices had been basically reduced to rubble. A quick glance at some of the items that had been scattered outside—including what appeared to be absurdly large pictures of him on it—she suspected it might have been the headmaster’s own office.
Malwine eyed the second floor of the building. It didn’t look as though it was about to collapse.
Though if it does, I guess that would give me an excuse to keep going…
“Nothing to see here,” the Magister told the orphanage’s employees, waving at them. He took a step back, looking down. Seeing as Hanß didn’t get back up, Malwine wondered if the guy was done for.
She got her answer soon enough, as a tall woman reached forward, past the Magister, and effortlessly lifted Hanß into a bridal carry. She then sped into the building not through the door, but through the new opening itself.
The Magister raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Even as the staff started to move away from the scene, speaking amongst themselves in hushed tones, he remained unmoving.
Only once he was the last person there did he speak again. “Has your headmaster always been like this?”
Malwine felt her brain going into overdrive, torn between having a panic attack and improvising. That lasted a moment, as her more rational side regained some semblance of control.
[The Way of the Clave] had worked for her on her trial for Bernie, so it stood to reason the Skill could work here as well. Leaning on that and the widow’s decades of experience bullshitting strangers, Malwine let out a drawn-out sigh.
“He’s gotten violent before. With me, even,” Malwine admitted—that much was true. “Last time he did so, I tried to punch his glasses right into that smug skull of his and let’s just say, things did not go well for me.”
She wasn’t sure as to whether the Magister’s laugh should have surprised her. “I take it that was your reasoning for staying in the sidelines?”
“I wasn’t about to do anything for Zayden, even if I tried. Bastard’s too strong,” Malwine huffed, crossing her arms. She imagined Kristian, in truth, would likely have been equally displeased by the knowledge—her grandfather did strike her as the type to favor only environments where he was the one who could beat everyone else up. “It’s cowardly, and I have thoughts, but I stand by it.”
“No, it’s fair,” the Magister shook his head, looking to the side and past his shoulder to finally lock eyes with her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before making a swift movement with his hand, outwards. A lamp appeared in his hand without fanfare, illuminating the area closest to the sump as he approached.
“Boy, a word of advice,” the Magister leaned forward, smiling. “You do not owe it to anyone to put yourself at risk for them. There will be situations in which you may want to, and choose to, but know always, that is something no one can force upon anyone. And anyone who believes otherwise would be the one actually too cowardly to act themselves.”
Malwine felt that last piece of advice go right over her head, more than a bit suspicious he’d phrased it that way simply to respond to the ‘concern’ she had voiced about her actions. “I’ll keep it mind.”
“Why were you here, in any case?” the Magister asked, a bit too abruptly for her taste.
She flinched despite herself, both at the question and at the honesty her Skill suggested. “I… I’m curious, I confess. I want to know what’s back here, you know? This,” Malwine motioned at the sump, “Scares me like crazy. Wave take me, I don’t even know how this…. sea-damned monstrosity of a pool can exist. I hadn’t dared to cross it before, but when I heard Hanß coming, I just went for it.”
The Magister tipped his head. “And you stayed for your friend?”
“Maybe,” Malwine shrugged, her expression dubious. In this sense, she wasn’t sure what the real Kristian might have done if faced with the same choice. She had an inkling that he would have rushed back anyway, not for Zayden’s sake but because of his penchant for violence. “I certainly couldn’t bring myself to keep walking.”
Laughing again, the Magister took another step forward, lamp in hand.
It took Malwine a moment to realize he was ignoring the rocks entirely, and her eyes widened.
“Do you understand the concept of gravity?”
Slightly weirded out by the question, Malwine thought back to what the widow had understood of gravity. Those thoughts mixed with the knowledge that the sea was casually above them here just as a sky might be, seemingly propped up by nothing. “As a concept, sure.”
“Drop something, and it will fall. That’s all you need to know, really, because I am not getting into physics,” the Magister said as he continued just casually walking on water—on seawater. “Perhaps it would do you well to imagine tipping a jar of water over—you’ll just be dropping it to the floor. Now, the sea is vast and inscrutable, but water is water. Whether it’s an external force, surface tension, any other mundane explanation, or simply its magical nature, even parts of it that are separated want to remain whole.”
“I’m partial to the ‘magic does it’ explanation,” Malwine nodded sagely.
“As am I,” the Magister agreed. He had nearly reached her by now. The lamp had a warm tone to it, allowing her to finally get a good look of the sump—its waters appeared almost mirror-like, and predictably greenish. “Regardless of what some may say, the sea does not seek to consume without stimuli. You could toss much at it and have it simply bounce back, repelled.”
For starters, she recalled the sump eating the barnacle just fine the first time she did this trial, but wisely refrained from commenting. The opinion the Magister was expressing was wild—absolutely everything she’d learned of it so far portrayed it as a force of consumption that could also lash out at the slightest provocation, be it via sibyls or waves.
“All it does otherwise is Exist,” he continued. The lamp didn’t so much as sway as he leapt and landed on the grass next to Malwine. “I would guess something, at some point, caused some of it to become trapped here after it descended for one reason or another, and so a sump was formed. Part of the sea, yet not.”
“My fists and I would like to have a conversation with whoever decided to build an orphanage next to it,” Malwine said, channeling her inner Kristian. She’d spoken a bit more testingly than she intended, but the Magister only nodded.
“I suspect the orphanage predates it, for your instinct on that area is good,” he told her. Glancing into the direction of the trees, the Magister raised his lamp, and an array of mushrooms and vines grew visible. The newly illuminated area looked straight out of some fantasyland picture book, an archway leading deep into the forest. “But not all people have good instincts—would you like to hear a story?”
The non sequitur had Malwine raising an eyebrow, but she nodded. “You’re going to tell it anyway.”
“Damn right I am,” the Magister grinned. “This one always went well as an icebreaker with students, back when I still taught… I confess they were usually older than you, but a poor developmental environment has a way of forcing people to mature faster—no offense meant. Tell me, boy, have you ever heard of the sea being beneath us?”
“No?” It took Malwine more effort than she expected to maintain her composure and amend that. “…I mean, Zayden says his world had a sea that was just regular but salty water. And they had a different sky that was made of air and space or whatever.”
The Magister’s gaze snapped back and he locked eyes with her for a split second, tense. He relaxed immediately, though his eyes remained wider than before. “Your friend is an otherworlder?”
“Yeah?” Malwine found she couldn’t hide her nervousness there—was Zayden’s status supposed to be a secret?
“Oh, this place, the gift that keeps on giving,” the Magister grinned. “Anyhow, as I was telling you, a sea beneath us was what this world once had, or so it is said. Any true knowledge of that is lost to prehistory, but most people you meet out there will treat it as fact.”
That got Malwine curious. “Oh? Then how is it up there now?”
“None know the answer to that. Not even the Devils,” the Magister exhaled. “But it is customary to blame it on the Emperor.”
Malwine blinked. “The Emperor?”
“A nebulous figure crafted because it is easier to have someone to blame than to admit we simply have no answer,” his tone betrayed a bit of disdain there. “The story goes that he was an Immortal, and in being a giant baby, he doomed this entire world to be confined beneath the waves forevermore.”
“Oh,” Malwine had to agree that was all too vague. “That’s all?”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“That is the whole of the tale, yes,” the Magister nodded, raising his lamp further. He shot the orphanage another glance, and something told Malwine the man had his reasons to want to rush back there.
I fucked up by telling him Zayden is an otherworlder, didn’t I?
“You are welcome to continue your exploration,” he told her. His gaze landed on his lamp. “In fact, I recommend you take this—I’ve no need for it at the moment. Be forewarned the wards for The Fog are up, so you will not be able to wander far, but you’re welcome to take in the sighs.”
“Wait, I have a question,” Malwine’s eyes narrowed, and she wasn’t sure if it was the Skill’s suggestion or her own urges that determined what she asked next. “Like, the Immortal was immature, or a literal baby at the time?”
The Magister gaped at her for a moment before throwing his head back, laughing yet again. He did not appear to take offense at her poor attempt at stalling, at least.
“That, is a new one,” he shook his head, pushing the lantern into Malwine’s hands. “Has anyone ever accused you of taking things literally?”
Reflexively, she gripped it, all the while trying to confirm whether her eyes could narrow any further. “Not in recent memory.”
The Magister eyed the lantern. “Well, now somebody has.”
Malwine looked at the lantern before shooting the fleeing man a bewildered glance.
“Oh, no, it seems someone has literally taken my only source of light!” the Magister shouted while leaping over the sump in a single bound, not even bothering with the water-walking showmanship. “I cannot possibly stay out here now!”
Malwine could only stare as the man returned to the building.
The fuck? Was Zayden being an otherworlder really that important?
She had to shake her head for close to a minute before it cleared enough for her to get back to her original task. She felt as though she’d gotten played even worse than when she tried to fool Veit, and—worse yet—this time, she’d had a social Skill on her side.
Malwine bit her lip. Again, Veit had been right. She never knew when or how she might find herself outmatched. Even if it’s in a trial and I’m trying to delay the Magister that’s probably going to go snitch on Zayden now…
The only silver lining here was the fact that she’d managed to interact with the man without the trial collapsing in on itself. That felt like confirmation that, while making him suspect something could ruin everything, he was probably unrelated to the endgoal.
The trial just casually has an Immortal in it, Malwine sighed. Much like the hidden basement did.
A shameful part of her wondered when, if ever, it would become appropriate for her to start branching out on the OHeidi jokes. She didn’t actually trust herself to keep those solely inside her head if she let loose.
With everything that had happened, the prospect of exploring seemed almost underwhelming now. It wasn’t even that her curiosity had dimmed—she was simply still out of sorts from the utter madness that had been her interaction with the Magister.
Redoing this trial was worth it, though. If only to watch that prick Hanß get used as a siege engine against his own office.
As she walked past the archway, Malwine got a strange feeling—a bizarre awareness that the destination didn’t matter, not anymore.
Had this not been a trial, it would have made her wary.
Still, she kept walking, eyeing the technicolor mushrooms and vines. Nothing here looked like it belonged under the waves.
The trees were still faint outlines when she felt a force stop her on her tracks, just short of a sign that read Widuzhain. An arrow pointing North accompanied the name.
Malwine could hardly contain her grin—this was it. Even if the wards kept her from actually reaching the forest, she had a clue now, as to how she may yet find out more about her orphaned grandparents’ origins.
An orphanage near a place called Widuzhain. It was as good a hint as she would get.
Having learned that kept being denied the further exploration from stinging too much, even if she’d have been a liar to deny she was still a bit peeved.
As she returned to the courtyard—after a considerable amount of time spent carefully walking over the slippery rocks—Malwine found herself wrapped into a hug.
She hadn’t even noticed Zayden approaching.
“Thank you, thank you!” he said between sobs, and it struck her, for a moment, that the one titled the Champion Saint, an otherworlder, was currently a child in need of comforting.
It might have been silly to do so, but she put the lamp down as gingerly as she could, and hugged the boy back. “What do you mean?”
Zayden pulled back, laughing through the tears. “For this, Kristian! For getting us out! I’m going to meet my Saint,” he said. “And I get to pick my party!”
“Oh—”
The world tipped over, flipping in on itself for a disorienting moment, and Malwine felt herself falling.
Her eyes snapped open, and the sight of her room greeted her once more. Malwine exhaled slowly—the trial had ended so abruptly that she needed a moment to get her bearings before she could even check her notifications.
You have conquered a trial to copy attribute points from Kristian Rīsan! +194 Charisma, +120 Luck, +4,061 Presence
Her immediate thoughts ranged from confusion at Kristian having that much Presence, for her to earn something like this, to how much the other two gains sucked compared to what she got out of the trial for Katrina.
Granted, she had most definitely cheated at that one thanks to {Legacy}, but not even 200?
Malwine huffed, sending a loose strand of hair away from her face as she pouted. She brought up her panel.
[Integrity] 1023 / 1075 [Toll] 101 / 14675
Strength 5001 (-99%) Speed 2538 (-99%) Endurance 5565 (-99%) Dexterity 2516 (-99%) Stamina 5473 (-99%) Resilience 4313 (-99%) Perception 4626 (-99%) Charisma 2708 (-99%) Adaptability 4628 (-99%) Luck 2669 (-99%) Circulation 14628 (-99%) Presence 6574 (-99%)
Unassigned: 2000
...
[Integrity] 1023 / 1075 [Toll] 101 / 193 Strength 50 Speed 25 Endurance 55 Dexterity 25 Stamina 54 Resilience 43 Perception 46 Charisma 27 Adaptability 46 Luck 26 Circulation 146 Presence 65
Unassigned: 2000
Oops, she winced at the sight of the 2,000 unassigned attribute points that awaited her.
Deciding what to do with those now, and whether she should wait to consult Veit, would eat into her time—she just knew it.
But most importantly, she now had a whole new town to find.