HP: Spirit Talker

An old goblin with sparse gray hair and some sort of livery and girdle over it walked through the open door. He was followed by a pair of younger goblins, two of them carrying what appeared to be a heavy metal-covered chest. Inside were two guards with short axes and full plate armor. Without further ado, which seemed rude, the goblins carried the chest over to the table and placed it on the light-colored slabs of the floor.

The old goblin pulled a key on a chain from under his shirt and used it to open the chest. A series of clicks and taps sounded as melodious and rhythmic as a music box. When the heavy lid was removed, the old man carefully pulled out an ancient, even ancient artifact, the Goblet of the Triune Aine. A broad, round base of gleaming bronze radiated upward in geometrically precise rays, holding the crystal, semi-transparent cup.

Placing the artifact on the table, the goblin drew out a translucent vessel containing a colorless liquid that filled three-quarters of the long, narrow chalice. Deftly removing the crystal stopper, the goblin filled the bowl with the purest water. A creaky voice, broken by age, came from a hunched and wrinkled creature with a scratchy gaze.

— For the test, the maiden must hold the bowl with both hands. The beginning of the color change of the water means the result: scarlet water — the maiden is innocent, rusty — not. — And he stopped talking.

I looked at Genoske with a wag of the eyebrow. Between us lay a leather folder with the usual Japanese tradition of an engagement contract.

— Marika. — The man said.

One of the sisters, with short hair, rose silently from her seat, stood beside the goblin, without even looking at him, put her hands on the bowl. A few seconds and the girl removes her hands, silently and completely calm. The old goblin says nothing and does not react in any way — he just does his duty, i.e. he pours the dirty, rusty water directly onto the floor and fills the bowl. Marika steps aside, and for the first time I see a hint of a malicious grin in her eyes.

I shifted my gaze to Genosuke. The girls' father is clearly struggling with himself: his lips are tight, his cheekbones jaundiced and his fist clenched until his skin turns white. He speaks his second daughter's name through clenched teeth. Manami repeats her sister's actions exactly as if they had been practiced, then steps back to her.

Just as silently, the goblin cleans the bowl, puts it away, and closes the chest. A moment later, only the four of us are left in the conference room. A large puddle of rusty water sits on the light stone floor away from us.

I remained silent. But inside I felt the fire slowly filling my veins, only this time the magic did not stun me, it only gave me the strength to hold back my anger and rage until a certain moment — when I would find the culprit. Someone dared to take someone else's — mine, by right of power, blood and magic. Looks like I'm going to have to remember the lessons of torture that I didn't want to remember or even know about. This is unforgivable. I am not the master of time, I cannot bring back the past, but that does not mean that these two shards of my clan are useless, oh no!

My sweet Elizabeth, the gorgeous beauty Lizzie, will unfortunately never be able to become my full spouse according to the magical laws, and neither will these two, who are eerily happy with something. The laws are very strict: only an innocent girl can be a full partner in a magical union between a man and a woman, and her blood is required for the marriage ritual.

Frankly, I don't like it myself, but magical marriage binds two people together, imposes mutual obligations to care for and protect each other, even to the point of exchanging life forces if one of the spouses is wounded or sick, though the "help" of the "patient" can be unilaterally refused.

In general, there are a lot of useful things, and there are almost no disadvantages, well, given that the husband can decide the issue of cheating wife, because there are cases when the husband can no longer and the family needs to continue.

In such cases, the spouse can choose a partner and allow, and the resulting child is carried through the rituals of recognition and acceptance, becoming fully the son of both spouses. But to return to the present situation, I will say that an official mistress or concubine, which Lizzie has accepted in her place, is not a disempowered slave.

A man must also take care of his concubine, cherish her within certain limits, but he can give her money and send her away. In this relationship, everything depends on the senior in the relationship, in the sense of senior: wealth, power, political authority/power, purity from curses.

And when my rusty blonde has firmly taken her place in my soul, even if not as BIG love, but strong affection and such. These two girls will be exactly what they deserve, because the word "duty" makes them laugh. To revive a full clan, I need children, many children.

While I was going through my thoughts and options to find and punish the culprit, Genosuke stood up and walked over to his daughters. This attracted my attention and I began to watch what happened. For a good few minutes, the man looked into the eyes of one daughter and another. At some point, some evil grins appeared on the girls' faces and madness slowly began to appear in their eyes.

I frowned, and I also began to feel something strange from the blood kinship. Before, I'd felt them as if something was overshadowing them, distant. Now there was something more... defined, more... subtle. Cold, unpleasant, with the ever-increasing tang of dry wind carrying greasy smoke. Those were the associations that came to mind.

— Why? — the man gasped, looking at the girl with the short hair.

— You old fool, you are nothing but dirt and dust! Pride? The honor of the clan? Where is it — your clan? — Marika grinned, sparks of madness burning in her mocking look. — Is this brat your clan? — She shook her head in my direction. — We've found the real Clan! And our place will be ...

She was stopped by a sharp and powerful blow to the face. Despite his handicap, it was enough to knock the girl back two steps. He turned to the other daughter, and I don't know how he looked at that moment, since Genosuke's back was to me, but Manami only had time to repeat her sister's grin before she too received a powerful blow to the face. The man paused for a moment, looking at the senseless daughters on the floor, then pulled a tanto from somewhere in the folds of his clothing.

The blade had clearly been with its owner during the last clan battle. A few deep, jagged nicks with cracks, the unsharpened part bearing the marks of intense heat and acid. No, I understand him...I guess, but I can't let him, after all, my family's genetic material is priceless. Something catches my eye. At first, I don't know what it is.