The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 275 - You Think You’re Crushed? Here, Let Me Hug You...

Chapter 275: Chapter 275 - You Think You’re Crushed? Here, Let Me Hug You...

"Before... what, dear?"

A nervous flutter was met with a distant wave of comfort. Her Qat didn’t know exactly what she was about to do, but they’d had conversations before about this possibility.

"Before the time of being born as your daughter."

Yatrel’s breath caught as she leaned forward, no longer sitting back as calmly. Her face shifted so close so quickly that Elua considered dropping into an illusion and rolling backwards. Just in case the duelist decided to punch the imposter first and ask details later.

"That would explain quite a lot, actually."

The easy integration of the very possibility, as heard in her mother’s voice, made the brunette tilt her head. She waited a few seconds for the other shoe to drop. The reddish blonde still wore an expression that held more *curiosity* than ’shock’ or ’disbelief’.

"You’re not that surprised."

"Not entirely, dear. It’s rather like this somehow makes some things more coherent. Attributing everything to your brilliance only stretches the explanation so far."

A squirming feeling that itched through her spirit made the girl shift her posture. Being praised was certainly something the parents in this life did a lot. But hearing it while explaining she had past memories made her feel a lot more fraudulent than usual!

"For instance?"

"Like why my precious first child never really fussed."

"Yes, Onya is much more vocal than I might have been. But I’m sure some children are quiet."

A hand stretched forward and began to stroke the top of the girl’s brown hair. It was softer than her father’s, feeling a little more like the woman’s own strands. Nostalgia surged through her - through them both.

"That is what I told myself back then. So as not to worry. When you learned to read young and threw your days into books, we thought you would be a scholar."

"You could say that I liked learning in my past life. At least, that is how I feel about it."

The vague statements she included were meant to further the assertion of what she knew while also implying a fuzziness to it... that did not exist. Whether she could get Yatrel to believe that part or not mattered less to her than she wanted it to.

’A mother’s love is dangerous. Some guilt, some smiles, and a little head rubbing... now I’m ready to spill everything!’

A layer of thoughts inside took note - such ease of manipulation would have to be used sparingly on her own kids someday.

"There is also how you look at people and situations with such old eyes. The affluent families in the regions are known for fostering children that seem wiser than their years, but that is just an effect of resources and the time to invest in their offspring."

Such a pragmatic outlook spoke of how much interaction she actually had with the cultivator families. When Ondua became the hero of the region, there were a lot of festivities and a lot of visits by dignitaries. She ’met’ more people in that year than throughout her whole life.

The Dame Goltbred didn’t consider herself to be wholly matured in political outlook at that point, but even she could tell that none of them seemed any brighter or more learned than others of the same age. Not an amount worth mentioning, at least.

’Not the same as my daughter.’

Time and effort closed most gaps, making affluence a jump start rather than an insurmountable lead. In fact, the ’running ahead’ with her learning that the independent girl did on her own was meant to explain that away. As a reborn cultivator, she figured the best method to hide slips of knowledge was... to be known as knowledgeable!

However, the mint eyes she shared with her mother very occasionally gained a weight that spoke of just such ’time’. A gaze like the elderly that had taught classes at the Youth Guild when Yatrel was attending - and it had not gone completely unnoticed, just misunderstood.

"For a while, I thought you were just having moments of thinking about Qatrand. Small slips into the same sort of focused trance I am known for."

"I do think about my beloved a lot."

"Yes, but when you do... it is almost exclusively with a silly excited grin on your face. Or a far off look as your... facade stops working. Which is another oddity that makes more sense now, dear."

In her maternal heart, the orphan elementalist had been hurt when she learned that her daughter had not trusted the simple fact that she would love her no matter her underlying personality. Even taking into account that her eldest wanted to be treated like the ’sweet’ girl she pretended to be as a way of excusing it...

She could only feel like she herself had done something wrong at some point. Given some signal or sign that Elua picked up on and chose to hide herself. Now, she was beginning to look at it in a different light entirely.

One that made her hold the face of their heiress in her hands with a different sort of pain clear on her face.

"How much do you remember? What sort of things haunt you, child?"

The illusionist did not trust herself not to react and give too much away. So, the moment she felt the distress building in the duelist... Elua replaced the form she held with an illusion and extricated herself from the situation. Without a doubt, the answer to her questions was ’everything’ and... everything.

’But of course because it’s her, and because I made the silly choice to be around those healers, the first thing I think of is her counterpart dying that slow way.’

The brunette lay back on the floor, not moving far away. Her palms pressed into and over her eyes - as if it would block out the visual information her own brain replayed. Young, helpless, and watching that woman grow weaker - the cough ever more wet and thick day by day.

Seeing the same thing repeat, with different symptoms and different faces. There was nothing at all more haunting than inevitability. In knowing that who you could or should have been slowly died.

"A lot, I think. Sometimes I do things in ways that make sense to me, but if I take a moment to consider it, feel like it is something I would not have done without the impressions of that life."

The illusion spoke some hopefully comforting lies that were surprisingly close to the truth.

"Do you... remember how it ended?"

The real brunette laughed despite herself. Yatrel er Goltbred truly did get straight to the point. In this case, it felt like something that would serve her purposes so she let her copy nod.

’It will make her uncomfortable now, but it’s better than her being upset that I lied about that point later. Plus that kind of trauma can cover up so many of my strange behaviors.’

"I... I’m not sure what to say."

The woman got down on her knees and wrapped her arms around the imaginary figure. A strange surge of displeasure roiled through the ancient cultivator at the sight. Not because the woman would try to comfort her this way.

Not because she felt that such a young existence, in comparison to the length of her last life, was insolent for trying to show pity. Pushing herself back into the space her illusion occupied and dispersing it said everything.

The girl was jealous of her own mental construct. While it was vastly different from the sort of intimacy she wanted from Qat, it was still something she found herself craving.

She even hugged the woman back more tightly than she ’should’ be capable of, with the physical cultivation realm she had claimed to possess to her parents. After only a brief moment of shock at the power behind both strength and intent, Yatrel only hugged harder... now knowing her daughter could take it.

Before long the woman’s voice began to speak sadly in her ear.

"You always seemed so carefree when you were small. I really had no clue. I-"

"I’m the bad daughter, mom. For not showing it more plainly. This isn’t something we sit here and trade blame for. Any fault you feel is just my burden to carry, okay? Besides..."

The spiritualist pressed some ’amusement’ and ’approval’ at the Fidelity Astralism bearing woman.

"You never blame yourself when father attracts bad women. You just blame the culprit."

"You’re, right of course. Of course you are, dear. Then... who was to blame for how you... however you died?"

The failed ascender’s hold loosened noticeably, causing her mother to do the same. Yatreal pulled away just enough to see her daughter’s face... and the squirrely eyes that darted the other way from her own. The woman was having none of that.

"Elua."

When she began this conversation, the illusionist had no intention of explaining specifics. The ancient cultivator just wanted to lay some groundwork for the future and most importantly... stop her Ogre Physique from running rampant with urges.

A slow, small finger turned and pointed at herself.

"What exactly does that finger pointing at yourself mean?"

In a way she accomplished both goals, but it came at the price of making the details more intriguing to the woman. The cold tone she used was the same one the heiress had heard her use before a few key arguments against Ondua years prior.

"It wasn’t exactly on purpose. I think. Can we leave it at that?"

The moment the monotone words left her lips, she knew she messed up.

"You say you think, but it seems to me like you know."

’It’s definitely not too late to just blank a bit of her memory and try that explanation again...’