Vol 1.6: Historia is Alone
I relaxed the door closed behind me, leaving it slightly open for a quick exit later when I needed to retrieve my gear. If any threat were in this house, I could slip back in unnoticed and potentially use the young lady as a hostage.
It was a simple plan, suitable for simple-minded people.
As I listened intently, I could discern several nearby presences, all seemingly nestled in their sleeping quarters. Five people in total, perhaps siblings of the individual I just left behind in the room.
Drawing from the architectural style and the birds-eye view I had before entering, I could roughly estimate the location of the records and study room. The design of the estate mirrored that of German noble family estates from the 1600s to 1700s, following a symmetrical layout.
I moved cautiously, mindful of the creaking floorboards beneath me. With about four hours until dawn, I had the luxury of time, allowing me to proceed methodically.
From what I recall, estates of this nature often housed their studies and records on the first or second floors. They might be situated on the ground floor, roughly two rooms to the left of the living room behind closed doors, or perhaps near the master bedroom...
"Found it."
My eyes locked onto a room at the end of a hallway. Approaching it, I noticed a small padlock barring entry. An inconvenience, but one that could be overcome.
Lockpicks weren't tools I enjoyed using regularly, but necessity dictated otherwise. Sometimes, the most rudimentary lockpicks proved more effective than professionally crafted ones, at least from my limited experience in the outside world.
Tools indeed made the job so much easier...
Click!
With a satisfying click, the padlock was unlocked, granting me access to what I assumed to be the study.
Creak!
The door emitted an audible creak as it swung open, prompting an inward cringe. It seemed the inhabitants spared no expense on floor renovations but for some reason refused to use some WD-40 on their door hinges.
What kind of hell is this?
The study appeared unremarkable at first glance. A scattering of books, loose papers, letters, a modest trash bin, and a solitary candle for light adorned the unassuming space. Yet, appearances could be deceiving—a lesson learned all too well with individuals like Kushida.
I gently closed the door behind me, continuing on my search for crucial documents that discussed my physical description, alleged misdeeds, and...other details.
The pursuit of truth behind these walls lacked the expected thrill. I thought it'd be more interesting. Battling Sakayanagi in chess was more fun than this. I was dissatisfied.
Uncovering the truth rested on a foundation of assumptions, a few interrogations, and the discovery of peculiar yet valuable bits of information.
However, an undeniable issue on the horizon—surveillance—or rather, the eyes constantly watching.
These confined walls were teeming with eyes. It wouldn't take long for my location to be identified, exposing me to constant threats from bounty hunters, military police, or even assassins.
I faced a resource disparity; my limited means against the government's practically infinite arsenal. While I lacked tools, they possessed dozens, if not hundreds.
Shuffle...
Shuffle...
My investigation led me to old letters and correspondences exchanged between the Reiss family and the government. At first glance, these letters seemed innocuous—accounting records, and minor complaints from peasants, farmers, and estate workers. The typical paperwork of a medieval-esque world.
My eyebrows furrowed as I delved into one particular letter. It appeared to be from a higher lord, requesting the Reiss family's assistance and urging them to visit their estate with their family and guards.
Shuffle...
Shuffle...
This puzzled me. I sifted through more letters, seeking clarification regarding the strange request. Why did this higher lord seek the Reiss family's aid? What made them significant beyond their order to kill me? A theory took shape in my mind.
It seemed that in this world, lords and noble families collaborated more frequently than in my own. They wielded substantial power, possibly having overthrown a weak king in the past, akin to the nobles in the Kingdom of Hungary in 1222 with the Golden Bull.
While the Reiss family might be exceptionally powerful for mere Counts if my theory held water...sigh...
I continued my investigation, picking another lock and opening a small drawer emitting a faint, wood-like smell. It seemed untouched for a considerable period, maintaining a fresh scent.
Ironic, this is the cleanest thing I've seen since coming here.
Inside were a few papers, which I perused with a mundane chug. So many discarded or half-written letters.
Shuffle...
Shuffle...
Seven years ago... six years ago... eight... nine... ten...
The time measurement in this world was peculiar. It didn't follow the Western calendar or the Japanese imperial system. Despite my limited understanding, I couldn't deduce the starting point for this calendar. Did it operate for 365 days, as well?
We were in the year 845 AC. Despite multiple mental simulations, the meaning of EC eluded me. Even with my restricted knowledge, even asking locals, I should have been able to piece together something.
No one knew what AC meant.
"Huh? What is this?"
My unconscious murmur disrupted the eerie silence of the night as I examined a letter from ten years ago. I momentarily glanced towards the door before looking deeper into the note.
Interesting...
My Dearest Alma,
I must extend my sincerest apologies for the necessity of sending you away. I trust you will find the estate more than accommodating; it is, after all, my own. Although this letter is concise, I wish to emphasize that you hold a place near and dear to my heart, and that sentiment will endure—I can only express these emotions through this medium. The choice to distance ourselves is dictated by my profound concern for your safety, driven by my unwavering love for you.
I pray for your continued well-being and that of our beloved Historia.
With Warm Regards, Rod.
The letter concluded abruptly, and I found myself pondering its implications.
First of all, disgusting.
Second of all...A mistress and a bastard child? How scandalous. The ramifications of such a revelation within a family of this stature would undoubtedly be severe.
Potentially deadly, I surmised.
I started to dig deeper into the records. Maybe I could find—
CREAK!!!
Suddenly the door opened from behind me...
||𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑: 𝐖𝐀𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒||
Historia was alone.
With a tired yawn, the little girl awoke in her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her tiny hands. She blinked wearily, her blue eyes still blurred from sleep. It was just before sunrise, and brilliant colours of light were beginning to shine through the window in her room.
It was a beautiful scenery for a troubled soul; it was a pity, then, that she had no time to enjoy it. By force of habit alone, Historia pushed her warm covers off, shivering as her little feet touched the cold floor below.
"Brrr..."
Historia had learned long ago not to oversleep, no matter how tired or sore she was, lest she face her grandparents' anger. She was expected to get up early every morning and do countless chores around the estate after breakfast, regardless of her state of well-being.
Her grandparents were not the forgiving or understanding type, as the blond girl had learned long ago. Historia was very withdrawn and meek whenever her caretakers were around, scared that committing the slightest offence or saying the wrong word could set off their wrath.
If only Historia knew what she did wrong. If only she knew why her grandparents didn't want her existence in their lives. But sadly, she wasn't any closer to knowing why they didn't love her. All Historia knew was to follow their orders and hope that things got better.
The girl picked up her hairbrush, staring into the old mirror on her desk as she straightened the golden strands. The girl in the mirror seemed pitiful, with her dull and lifeless eyes.
"I-itai..." She winced as she pulled the last few knots from her hair, loosely tying the strands together for today's work.
Deciding that her appearance was acceptable, Historia put down her brush. She still was a small and frail-looking girl, but she hoped to one day grow tall and beautiful, like the woman in her storybooks. Historia quietly left the safety of her room.
The estate that she lived in was large, with hallways filled with countless rooms that one could easily become lost in. Yet Historia had memorized the layout long ago, her tiny feet carrying her down to the kitchen below.
In a few minutes, she had arrived, walking in to see her grandparents already inside the room. They merely glanced at her before looking away in indifference, saying a few words to each other instead.
Her grandparents didn't talk to her unless they had to.
No one talked with Historia.
That's how it always was. She should have gotten used to it by now, but nothing could be further from the truth. She hated the rift that isolated her from the grandparents she wanted to love, but she could never cross it. They would only interact with her as necessary; otherwise, they would avoid her like she was something shameful.
Historia sat down at the far end of the table, not daring to get any closer to her grandparents. She knew that they didn't want her here, as if her mere presence tainted the room. Mealtimes were a lonely occasion for Historia.
Her grandmother then got up and walked over, silently putting down breakfast for Historia. A small bowl of porridge with a chunk of cheese was what she ended up with today. It was a pitiful breakfast, but Historia knew better than to complain about it.
"Thank you, Grandma," Historia quietly said. The elderly woman just scoffed and walked away without another glance, leaving the room behind.
Historia wasn't even that hungry; she didn't have the appetite today. But she didn't want her grandfather to become angry and...hurt her, so she forced herself to eat the bland meal.
If only she knew what she did wrong to deserve this silent treatment. Then maybe she could apologize and heal the rift between her relatives. But in her heart, Historia knew that was just wishful thinking.
Historia finished off the last specks of food from her bowl and plate, putting them near the sink to be washed by her grandmother. Her grandfather then got up from the table, and Historia obediently followed him, knowing that it was time for her to work in the fields again. They both silently left the estate house for the sunlit fields, which promised another day of hard toil.
THUD!
"Ow!" Historia cried out as a rock struck her hand, sending searing pain through her fingers. She frantically looked up just as another rock hit her in the eye, which elicited a scream of agony from her.
THUD!!
"Haha! Nice throw!" One of the boys jeered. Half blind, her heart plummeted at who she saw beyond the fence. It was her childhood bullies, three boys who came by now and then to harass her. They lived in a town close to the estate and had found a twisted enjoyment in hurting and humiliating her.
"Stop it! Leave me alone!" Historia yelled with tears in her eyes.
"Shut up, freak!" Another boy hollowed as he threw yet another rock, which struck her shoulder. Now terrified at whatever dark plans they had in mind, Historia listened to her survival instincts, which screamed at her to run.
And so she did, feeling the sting of rocks on her back as she desperately sought to flee. She could hear the rapid footsteps of the boys as they jumped the fence, chasing her down like dogs would a rabbit. She dropped the small pitchfork she used to hold a while ago, her small legs burning as they tried to carry her to safety.
!!!
Historia didn't make it very far before one of the boys caught up and tackled her to the ground. Historia cried out in surprise as she was surrounded and held down, feeling helpless and violated as the boys laughed at her distress.
"Stop it! Let me go!" Historia pleaded in a vain attempt for mercy.
"Look! It can talk!" One of her tormentors mocked, roughly pulling her head upright by her hair.
"Please, stop!" Historia sobbed aloud, feeling absolute misery consume her being. Why couldn't she do anything but cry? Why couldn't she fight back?
Why was she even alive?
"Hey! Look what I found!" One of the bullies grabbed a nearby rope, and the other assisted in tying her up.
"No! Please stop! It hurts!"
"Fuahahah! Hey, maybe if you stopped squirming, the pigs will find you even more appetizing!" The boy stepping on her hand taunted, creating a horrifying description in her little mind. Were they going to kill her?
"HELP, SOMEONE! PLEASE HELP!" Historia finally screamed as loud as her lungs would allow. She didn't care who heard her, only that someone, anyone, would come and save her from these monsters. She was far too weak to save herself, and so her only hope was that someone else would.
'Why does everyone hate me? What did I do wrong?'
She sobbed and sobbed, losing the strength to resist...
Why her?
Frieda Reiss walked down the worn dirt road with a happy smile and her voice humming a cheerful song. Her black riding boots made long strides as she walked toward the distant farming estate, eager at the thought of seeing her half-sister again. As the daughter of the lord who owned this land, no one would dare question her presence. This left Frieda free to travel here and visit her darling Historia again.
Frieda wore a long-sleeved white blouse with a long greenish-blue skirt, her outfit looking far more fine than anything a peasant could hope to afford. Her eyes were a rich blue, filled with rare kindness and warmth.
Her long black hair was kept clean and brushed to perfection, and she wore a large straw sunhat. Finally, a satchel with a shoulder strap rested at her waist, filled with everything she needed for this trip.
'Historia will love this book.'
Frieda patted her satchel, feeling rather pleased with herself. Historia would be delighted to see her again, once Frieda returned her memories, of course.
Just a simple touch of foreheads and Historia would remember the lost memories Frieda had locked away. From all the wonderful books they read to the times Frieda took her horseback riding, and the countless treats and meals they shared under the trees.
She recalled a particularly embarrassing moment when she and Historia fell asleep on each other, well beyond Frieda's usual leaving time. Upon returning home, her family didn't scold her; instead, they interrogated her about the alleged boy she had been visiting. The memory itself wasn't bad, but the reminder she had to find a partner soon was.
It was so embarrassing! She wasn't even interested in anyone at the moment!
For another few short hours, Historia would forget her isolation from the world, and spend time with the big sister who loved her dearly.
Frieda hated doing this to her half-sister. She hated spending countless hours with Historia, only to alter her memories afterwards, leaving her little sister lonely and miserable again. But it was for her protection. Historia's life was in peril the moment she was born.
It tore her young heart to shreds each time she did it...
Historia's life was a stain on the noble Reiss family, an unwanted child born from her father's infidelity. If the Royal Assembly ever learned of Historia's existence, they would surely call for her death—no they definitely would. So her father kept Historia on this isolated farm, to be hidden away like something dirty and shameful.
Alma. A frown appeared on Frieda's captivating face at the thought of that horrid woman, the cause of Historia's misfortune. Out of all the maids her father had an affair with, it had to be the one who was worthless at being a mother.
As much as Frieda would preach about peace and love to one's fellow man, she did not like Alma at all. The few times she had interacted with the woman left a sour taste in her mouth.
Alma was a very selfish woman, thinking only about herself and to hell with everyone else. Frieda had heard from Historia how her mother treated and neglected her, and well, it made her already low opinion of the woman sink even more.
Frieda suspected that Alma only gave birth to Historia in a vain attempt to get her father to divorce his wife and marry her instead. And when that plan failed, Alma ditched her bastard daughter to her parents, abandoning Historia and wanting nothing to do with her.
Frieda had only learned about Historia's existence by accident, her now-deceased uncle Uri's memories revealing a conversation between him and her father about what to do with Alma.
Frieda took a chance and travelled to the farming estate where Historia lived one day. She didn't expect to find a girl with lonely and confused eyes, who immediately latched onto her older half-sister when she showed kindness and love.
Frieda took pity on the poor girl and began to meet with her in secret, without her father's or family's knowledge. She taught Historia everything that she could think of. From how to read and write, how to sew, cook, and how to behave in a ladylike manner. When the time came for her to leave, Frieda would lock away Historia's memories until the next time they met, so no one would be the wiser.
Unconsciously, or perhaps consciously, wished that she could take Historia with her. To meet her other half-siblings, to be a part of the family. Frieda would admit, she was a bit naive, a 'dolt' at times according to her brother Urklyn and she would admit that this was another childish dream of hers.
"I'm sorry...eh?"
She unconsciously said those words before covering her mouth.
If she thought of this topic further, it'd dampen the mood.
If only this world wasn't so cruel...and...if she could get rid of the King in her head...
Taking care of Historia gave Frieda some meaning to her fading life. Life was short, but her own would be even shorter. Frieda held great power in her slender body, the power of the Titans, yet it also cursed her as well. Frieda had perhaps 10 years at most before she would have to be devoured to pass her Titan onto her next sibling.
No matter how much Frieda tried to ignore it, she knew the horrible fate that waited for her one day. One of her many siblings would be turned into a Titan, and Frieda would be ripped apart by massive teeth, all for the sake of keeping this damned power under her family's control.
She felt sick just thinking about it, and hopeless knowing that she could not escape it. But seeing Historia again with give her some comfort, an escape from this cruel world and the sinners that inhabited it.
Sinners—when did she start calling her people that again?
So Frieda would make the most of her cursed life, by spending it with the dear half-sister who had no one else. If Frieda was being honest with herself, Historia was an outlet for her to just be Big Sister Frieda, not the secret Queen of this kingdom or the holder of a cursed and terrible Titan power.
Frieda felt pride that she was the one who took care of an unwanted girl and slowly taught her everything she needed to know. The fact that Historia was adorable and innocent was a delightful bonus.
Frieda knew that around this time of day, Historia liked to read near the fence here. A habit she had subconsciously picked up from their meetings together. Massive bales of hay were placed out near the fence, but Frieda was confident that Historia was beneath one of them.
She hummed lightly as she approached the estate...
"........"