Hearing the elder matriarch of House Erbenzram kept denying the truth, that it was her other child, the one she had always shunned and underestimated, who killed her father, was enough to stoke the fire in Alice’s heart. She wanted to speak, her lips trembling to shout at this old woman that it was all true. But as she began to lose control, Sylvaria was already ahead of her.
“Then use your magic. Kaleidoscope of Past, wasn’t it? The one that lets you peer into someone’s memories?”
“Hah. You think you can corner me with that idiotic trick?” Hilda’s laugh was sharp, dismissive. “It never even showed the correct past about your child’s conception. Somehow, you already knew its weaknesses.”
Alice saw it, the fiery ember in her mother’s eyes, the same one that had burned when Harmus appeared in their house.
“You must have taught your kid.” Hilda said.
“Listen, Hilda. That spell is the only reason you became a Hauptmann. If you keep denying its so-called absolute judgment, even against a child, I’ll take this to the military. They can rip the memory straight from my head if they want testimony. Are you ready for that kind of shame? For the world to learn that Hilda, First Hauptmann of House Erbenzram, is a fraud who cannot even read a child’s mind without being deceived?”
“Do you think the military would easily trust—”
“There are other mind readers,” Sylvaria cut in, her voice rising. “Back then, when one said Alice was not a bastard, you crushed it, and people believed you because gossip was easier than truth. Even Edwin grew tired of trying to convince everyone, that is how poisonous your lies were. But this is not gossip. This is about whether an officer of the Reich is a fraud. Every mind reader would want to confirm your denial of your own spell, and you cannot silence them all now. If I testify, you will fall.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Hilda hissed. “If you drag my name through the mud, you drag the whole Erbenzram line with it. We would all be remembered as a family of frauds.”
“I would,” Sylvaria snapped. “I would if it gave me and Alice even a chance to live, and maybe take revenge on Harmus while I am at it. So what is it going to be, Hilda?”
Hilda didn’t reply immediately. She kept staring at Sylvaria, unflinching at first. After a few moments that felt like a lifetime, Alice caught her grandmother’s expression shift. The sharpness in Hilda’s gaze softened, replaced by something tighter. For the first time, her eyes wavered—as if she realized Sylvaria was ready to commit a double suicide, dragging the entire Erbenzram name down with her until nothing remained. Hilda looked away, jaw clenched, as though actually considering whether to give Sylvaria the chance to prove her claim.
Sylvaria then turned to Alice. Her daughter’s wide, teary eyes met hers.
“Alice, listen to me. If she agrees, her spell will hurt, more than anything you have felt before. Do you remember when you ran into that tree?”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Alice’s voice was steady. “If it helps us, I will endure it.”
Sylvaria’s eyes widened. Her voice came without hesitation, trembling but firm, fighting for both their futures.
“That’s my good girl,” she whispered, brushing Alice’s hair.
For a long moment, Hilda studied them both. Then, for the first time, her eyes shifted to Alice, not with warmth, but with a hard, appraising weight.
“Come.”
Alice walked toward her grandmother. Her steps were firm, like a soldier reporting to a disciplinary hearing. Hilda seized her arm and stared into her eyes.
Then the projection blurred, warping into a cacophony of soul-deep agony, as if a body were cut open without anesthesia.
It was as if Alice’s very soul were being pried open, stripped raw, and cut apart with scalpels. Fractured memories splintered into view like shards of a kaleidoscope, each piece laid bare for Hilda to choose and examine at will.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
They felt it through the spell. It was as if thin wires had been threaded into her veins, crawling beneath her skin. Her soul transmitting signals of injury the flesh could not see. As Hilda dug deeper into the fractures, the torment only grew sharper, those wires now alive with current, jolting her soul awake, forcing the desired memory to the surface without distortion.
As the projection unfolded, Lina started screaming. The spell delivered the pain without mercy or restraint. They wanted to feel what Alice had endured, and they received it raw and unsoftened. Halwen clutched his chest, gasping, while Leopold remained unchanged, his eyes fixed on Vierna’s body. Detached as ever, he simply observed. Vierna herself seemed untouched, watching the memory with a faint smile, as if it were nothing more than a projection, something that had never happened to her at all.
The Alice in the memory never screamed aloud. Internally she was weeping a river of blood, but outwardly she was calm, staring at Hilda as if nothing had happened to her. In past and present alike, she looked composed, even while her soul screamed in anguish.
After a while, it appeared that Hilda found the memory she had meant to find, and the pain eased. They continued to watch as the memory unfolded.
The room fell still. Hilda did not scream this time. She did not curse or deny. Her eyes, once sharp as blades, dulled. Her lips parted, but no words came. Shoulders that had held steady like stone sagged, and for the first time, Alice saw the Iron Matriarch look small, resigned, as if the weight of her family’s ruin had finally broken her spine.
“Now do you believe me?”
“…”
Sylvaria’s voice softened as she looked at the once-unyielding Matriarch, now slumped, reduced to a grieving mother whose pain mirrored her own.
“So please, Frau Hilda… if I can get into the military, I will have what I need. They will drill me, make me stronger, and the pay will keep Alice fed. I could finally hold us together, maybe even be strong enough to face Harmus one day.”
The silence was even more suffocating than the debate. It lingered heavily, the air too thick for Alice to breathe. Even the projection began to flicker, as if suspended in the air, waiting for Hilda’s answer.
“Please, Frau Hilda, for Edwin.”
“Fine!”
The word came as a surprise. For Alice, that approval was something she desperately needed, a small victory in a sea of losses.
“However,” Hilda continued, “I want you to put Alice in an orphanage.”
An internal thought echoed in Alice’s mind within the projection.
Mother, I don’t mind. If you can take revenge, it’s fine to abandon me. Father’s death was my fault. Thank you for saying otherwise, but deep down I know it was my fault. Please, just go…
“What?” Sylvaria’s voice rang through the hall, disbelief rattling even the strongest pillars of the house.
“We already have Harmus to contend with before the scandal spreads and destroys this house’s name completely.” Hilda said coldly. “I will not risk another scandal by admitting her as one of us.”
“YOU MISERABLE OLD BAT!” Sylvaria shouted. “You want to destroy this family even more?”
“You are the one who destroyed this family,” Hilda shot back. “If only Harmus and Edwin hadn’t fallen for your ‘pretty’ face, we would all be fine.”
Sylvaria’s face tensed as she stared at the unreasonable old woman.
Hilda slammed her fist into the table. “Look, Harmus must die. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I am a mind reader, not a fighter. You, on the other hand, can fight. All I want is for you to admit your sins, that I was right all along about Alice.
Do that, and I will use my connections. I can make you a lieutenant. No six years of service required. They will drill you and pay you for it.”
“Alice deserves to be there as I take Harmus’s head for all the hell he’s caused.”
“You think I care about revenge?” Hilda sneered. “Harmus’s name is a stain on the Erbenzram family. I want him dead only for that reason. I don’t care about avenging Edwin. The fact that he lost to Harmus is an embarrassment after everything I did for him.”
“You are a monster Hilda.” Sylvaria said coldly, “But you are right about one thing.”
“Hoh? So you would take my offer?”
“Not even when the pigs started to fly. You are right that this is a waste of time. Talking to you was a waste of time.”
Sylvaria then stand up, she hold Alice’s hand.
She stormed ahead, her grip tight on Alice’s hand, fury burning through every step. Alice felt her mother’s rage like heat radiating off iron—too strong, too wild, as if even the faintest reminder of Harmus would drive her mad.
That was when Alice heard it—a voice, low and smooth, drifting from the hall they had just left behind.
She looked back at the room she had just left. There was something there—a dark green energy seeping out from within, a sickness she knew too well. It came from someone dejected, someone who had taken her precious father just the night before.
For a heartbeat, she thought she had imagined it. Because if it really was that man, then where had he come from? Had he been hiding there? What was his goal? Why appear only after they had left?
But then she heard it again—the same sinister voice, masked in fabricated politeness.
“Hello, Mother.”
Hearing the voice, Alice froze. She turned her head toward her mother, but her gaze was fixed on the door, eyes bloodshot with rage.
“Mom… did you hear it?”
“I don’t care what happened to that old bat, Alice. Let’s just get the hell out of this place.”
Should Sylvaria Kill Hilda instead?
