The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 63 - Re-Living Long Enough To See Villains Become The Hero

Chapter 63: Chapter 63 - Re-Living Long Enough To See Villains Become The Hero

Similar mint eyes sat together on the opposite side of blue and brown on the way back to the tourist town. It was an awkward compromise, and Elua felt no qualms about taking the short-end of it. Losing her place next to her most important person for only ’a while’ as she tried to come to terms was not the *best* result, but not the worst. She could tell especially that her ’fortress’ felt guilty rather than disgusted.

That was good, she thought.

Her own acknowledgment of sins committed was at least more robust at dealing with this sort of thing. So if she needed time - and one of them had to sit next to Yatel because of it - the daughter of the Goltbreds was willing.

That estimation of her willingness fled, alongside her painstakingly reinstated facade, when the graceful woman casually brushed aside strands of brunette hair and spoke.

"You’ve seemed pretty emotional lately, dear. I’m sorry that I didn’t plan this at a better time for you."

Being apologized to when she was the one at fault for practically every element of her own angst hurt - but it was easy not to show it. As easy as speaking in monotone. She looked directly at the woman to help prove that she wasn’t trying to lie. At least she hoped her listless eyes would imply that.

"No, I’m grateful. Really. Seeing where our ceremony will happen is wonderful. Thank you, mom."

"I know you’re very independent and strong, Elua. It’s why I never press you on much. However, you are still my child - and I’ve recently learned again that children don’t always know how to ask for things they need."

The woman’s eyes gazed up at the listening men in the carriage, nodding at her soon to be son-in-law when she noticed his expression change. She really was glad to come to that understanding. Qatrand had both taught her that... as well as made her take better considerations that Onya might raise up a lot differently than her eldest did.

"So I’ll just say... that if you need something, I’ll be waiting for you to ask. Okay?"

’She’s trying to ruin me.’

The reborn cultivator couldn’t help but feel so as the Dame Goltbred cupped her cheek and rubbed once. She had told her fiance what she did, its limitations, and as many other bits as she could so that it wouldn’t cause a lot of fear about detailed changes of memory.

She explained that the reason she covered her slip-up was so that she didn’t break her promise of so many years ago... that people would not learn of Qat’s secret from her. Elua also implied that it was not so much the doing as it was the doing it to someone she trusted that had put her in such a mood.

The girl hadn’t wanted to double burden her husband-wife... but she also didn’t want to cover anything up about it either. Now, she was unsure if speaking about it out loud had been wise. Just because she wanted to know everything and share everything didn’t mean it was what others wanted.

She was realizing it made it harder to endure the torture of facing someone you... betrayed. When you had no current intention of telling them you ever did so.

’Even still, I wouldn’t have done anything differently, other than listen to her opinion before overwhelming the short term recollection she had with illusory ones.’

The decisive daughter thought to herself. The schemer didn’t really expect that... after she nodded a delayed response, she would find herself shifting to her side and hugging onto the woman’s arm. She wanted to blame living with her facade deluding herself all the time for the ’sweet’ action.

But the one whose tendrils of spirit were still extended towards her thought differently about it all. Her El was complicated and could do some things that were questionable. Looking at the brunette, she knew that she too had felt the same kind of ’confusion’ within herself recently.

’Isn’t this the same feeling I had when I wasn’t sure how to ask a mother to comfort me?’

The rest of the ride back was quiet, with none of the constant chatter from Ondua.

---

After their ride was returned to the rental place, the sound of a lively crowd reached them. The group rounded the corner that headed towards a large overlook before they saw the makeshift stage. The young miss of the group froze mid-step. She barely took note of Qat grabbing her hand.

’Is *everyone* trying to ruin me? Am I trying to do it myself?’

Performing there in garish costumes and artistic poses was what looked to be the very same troupe they’d encountered months ago. The actor playing ’her’ was in the midst of a dramatic monologue. Half of her lines throughout the play were voiced utterly dripping with mock villainy.

"With my great and terrible Element, I shall melt the very mountains and boil the seas!"

Elua’s face was drained of color when she heard of ’boiling seas’. The swordswoman winced, glancing down at their now painfully joined hands before looking up at her fiancee. The expression she saw there made her heart clench. It wasn’t blank and Qatrand felt it in her spirit just before she saw it.

A rage blazed in those mint eyes. Pure and unfiltered. It was paired with a surge of spiritual pressure radiating from her future wife in pulses. The undiluted intent passed over the crowd, causing several nearby spectators to shiver and look around in panicked confusion.

The Yecine swordswoman stepped in front of Elua without thinking... as if to shield her from the performance - or perhaps to shield the actors from her wrath.

"Hey, it’s alright. You know they don’t know what they are talking about."

The Goltbred father who had been watching the play beside them with mild interest also turned toward the nearby source. His brow furrowed as he noticed the tension in his future son-in-law’s stance. Then his gaze shifted to his daughter... and his eyes widened slightly.

The spiritual pressure was unmistakably thick. Intent was not always related to the level of cultivation, but more often spoke of the depths of one’s experiences. Rolling off his daughter in palpable waves was the very rage striking the crowd.

What surprised him more than that was the look in her eyes. Ondua felt as if he was seeing his daughter clearly for the first time. But it was the mother who spoke through the tension growing across the seconds.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

Qatrand’s heart skipped as she realized this situation was slipping out of control. The blonde had reacted instinctively... without fully thinking through that she would make it *more obvious* that El was the one doing this. Faced with the concerned looks of the parents beside her, she scrambled for a plausible explanation.

"Ah, it’s just... she’s hungry. And the crowd is noisy. Perhaps we should find somewhere quieter?"

The excuse left her mouth, but the tall girl knew it was a feeble but brave attempt to remind them of earlier today. The hand holding hers tightly trembled. The smaller girl’s spirit still roiled with barely contained fury. But she was trying.

And suddenly - the weight of it all hit Qatrand er Yecine harder than last time.

This reaction wasn’t just about an ’inaccurate’ play. This was Elua er Goltbred’s entire last life... its centuries of experiences crafted into cruel *caricature*. Her very existence reduced to a villain in a street performance.

Quite possibly the same kind of villain the cultivator reduced ’herself’ to, at times. The manner of her insecurity and that sense of ’need’ she’d always felt from the cute girl had always rubbed her as hard to explain. Of course it was!

The realities of carrying the burden of her past while starting again in a world that would never truly understand her couldn’t be any harder to fathom. Qat began to feel like this had inched her a *little* closer.

Her protective instinct flared and her spirit moved in response. This time, tempered with a deeper understanding and ’support’, the tendrils wrapped more of themselves across the gradually tightening back inward intent of her betrothed. She squeezed her El’s hand gently.

’Even if I can never understand, I don’t think it will change what I feel.’

Ondua’s gaze flicked between his supremely angry daughter... and Qatrand bravely - or perhaps ignorantly - holding her hand. Such anger is something that hunger can cause? It seemed more like when his wife was about to explode at him. A strange expression crossed his face. He opened his mouth as if to retort, then closed it again.

"Perhaps you’re right. I think we’ve seen enough for one evening. Shall we head back and eat?"

She allowed Qatrand to lead her away, but despite her dulling features... the fury was not all gone. It would never be gone as long as people were talking about things they had *no* idea about.

’The seas boiled because he tried to drown me with them. He doesn’t deserve to come out looking like the victim after what he did to-’

Surrounded by the oblivious chatter of the crowd, a mint eyed girl performed her own dramatic diatribe. It lasted until they made it near the street with all of the restaurants, but she wasn’t interested in picking this time. She was more interested in the fact that her fiance asked her parents to hold on for a moment then took her off a distance away.

"That was a lot worse than the first time we saw them."

The small heiress just nodded. But it was clear that she wasn’t going to let her away with only that... so she strengthened the privacy of their conversation.

"I just told you the awful kind of thing I am capable of... and then we got here to see them spreading how awful I am in front of you. What’s worse was the choice of tale. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Even I think it... but I can’t... I can’t have you think that way about me."

It didn’t feel good to the swordswoman to hear her say it, but knowing that she had been right - that El treated herself nearly as badly as the stories she wanted to go out of her way to explain as false - made her feel more connected. It was something she’d noticed about her ’real’ self on her own. It was a showing that it was possible to understand more.

"I understand. You’ve been called bad enough times that you began to think it yourself - and you don’t want me to do it. I really understand, El. I feel something similar."

The Yecine intentionally mimicked the way Yatrel had brushed the brunette hair and cupped the soft face of the girl she loved. It had struck her in the carriage as very expressive.

"I don’t want you to be disappointed in me or think I’m useless. I... I can’t say that I don’t care what anyone else thinks, but your opinion is at least more important."

"I’d never think of you in either of those ways, Qat."

The words were released the moment her sentence finished and it made her chuckle... and shift her hand to grip onto her El’s forehead. The other intimate gesture was nice but this - it was her way.

"I know. Which is why I also know not to believe those tales without question. They paint you as a scary cultivator... but to me the only scary part about you is how cute you can be."

’Hnng!’

It had been a while since it happened, but Elua completely... *almost* forgot what she had even been upset about!

"Then I’ll be cute! So cute you’ll understand how scary it can be!"

Her facade engaged at a breathtaking speed and a flush and overpitched voice leveled a challenge that no one asked for.