A figure followed their carriage closely. Mark kept his eyes on the ground, checking the shadow at each turn. The figure floated, being as high as fifteen feet. Its shadow looked like a small branch on the ground.
They must have used a spell to be able to stay up there for so long. He smirked, realizing who it was.
He turned to the little girl curled inside the carriage, resting her head on his thigh. It had been a long day for her, and there would be more exhausting things to deal with in the future.
But for the span of about thirteen years, he made sure she didn't have to be pressured by everyone. The longer she was away from them, the more effective the memory wipe would be.
"It had to be that crazy lady. The very moment the Disciple rejected her, she came to see the child." Mark sighed, but not in dejection.
At least the lady still remembered that she had a niece somewhere. She'd never want to raise the child, but if she did, Cathy might have a more balanced life like what he could give her.
The figure lowered and their shadow became bolder. They stood in front of the carriage. Mark waited until she came to the window before greeting. "Kamilla. Long time no see."
A curly red-haired woman with a patched eye smiled at him, then glanced at the sleeping girl. "She looks too much like my sister." She said it defiantly.
Mark scoffed. "Katerina never had curly hair. I think you two would make a perfect mother-daughter match." He teased, though he knew she'd never agree.
Her huff confirmed that. "You should have left her with the King. He was fond of her, wasn't he?"
Mark's face contorted into a frown. "He can never give her happiness. Cathy deserves so much more than that. He'd eventually make her serve his son who'd be a Disciple."
"And is that so bad?" Kamilla asked with a taunting tone. "My younger sister served a bloodline."
"And she was killed trying to fight their enemies." Mark retorted, trying his best not to raise his voice.
"Disciples have a lot of enemies: rogue elves, rogue wolves, and those outcasts. I'm not going to watch someone I care about... repeat the same fate."
The lady scoffed, stepping back as she could sense Mark was getting riled up. "Well, the Duchess gracefully avoided the responsibility to lie to Cathy. She'd need an explanation. Good luck with that."
"And where are you going?" Mark's frown deepened. "Do you plan to stay away forever? We have to raise her together."
"No," Kamilla walked away. "But I will take those aunty duties after I'm done living my life. No one asked Katerina to fall in love and have a child. No one asked her to serve a bloodline and get killed. No one asked her," she stopped and pointed at Cathy, "to die and leave her defenseless little girl to an uncle that has a criminal record, and an aunt who's a rogue mage."
Mark couldn't say anything. Truly, everything started when Katerina made so many bad decisions consecutively. His older brother, Cathy's father, blindly went along because she was his wife—his true mate. Mark ran his hands through his hair, tired. Now they were all dead.
"Katerina is still your younger sister, despite her mistakes. Cathy is still your niece, and as far as I can guess, the only kid that would ever be in your life."
Kamilla smiled. "For good reason. I don't want kids at all. Katerina and I were raised damaged. I wouldn't want a second Katerina, or worse, a second me."
She folded her arms. "But do your best, Mark. Raise her the best way you can. On the day of her wedding, and only then, send me a letter to come and see her."
Mark sighed, watching Kamilla march further away from the carriage. She disappeared in the blink of an eye, and the carriage started moving, as if it had been caught in a trance earlier.
Mark held onto the girl tightly. "Don't worry, Cathy. You'll be alright. We'll figure it out together. I promise."
After a half-hour ride, they arrived at the small village at the outskirts of the Duke of Desire's region.
Everyone minded their business. No one made eye contact. Mark looked at the sky. The reason the Duchess helped clear his past records was for the girl's sake only. He knew not to mess up this chance.
"This is a liberation for me."
"Hmm?"
He turned to the big-eyed, sleepy Cathy, rubbing her cheeks. "Someone had a very long good sleep. Uncle Mark was really lonely throughout the ride."
She pursed her lips and looked around her new environment. Her confused expression slowly faltered when she saw the statue in the middle of the market area.
"That really old Duke, right?"
"Yeah, crazy one too." Mark smiled.
Chances they would ever run into him were zero, because that Duke never visited small places like these. And he was reasonable enough to not get entangled with any trouble that could affect his villages.
"I bought a house and a store in front already. This is our new home here. The best place to raise a leader." He rubbed her back.
Cathy didn't follow, so she took her head back into the carriage. Her sour expression replaced the curiosity, and her shoulders fell. She propped her head with her hand, lost in thought. Mark noticed and patted her head.
"Don't worry, little one. You have thirteen whole years to live for yourself. Every lingering bad memory will soon be gone."
(Two Weeks Later)
"Change name?" Cathy asked, gripping her sword in one hand and the big bear toy in the other. "Why? My name is nice."
"Well, I do want you to get a new identity and your name is actually your mother's nickname. She never had time to register a name for you."
He opened the door of the registry hall and got in after her, making sure to check if they were followed first. Even in a new environment, his habits always kicked in.
The judge sat on a high seat, with a candlestick beside him. He adjusted his glasses when he saw them and started writing.
"Mark, yes?"
"Yes." Mark brought her closer. "The child I spoke about. She's originally Cathy Lorraine but we'd like a change of name as her new guardian. I am her uncle."
The judge nodded without looking up at them. He didn't seem to care. "As long as you brought all the required documents... what's the new name?"
Mark looked at the girl, then at the judge. "Her name would be Cecil…?" He felt a tug on his trousers. "Don't you like it?"
Cathy walked ahead with her wooden sword. She pointed at the name inscribed on it. "Me."
Mark and the judge bent to squint their eyes. They read the name. Mark straightened up first.
Why did she want the name of her sword, which was also the name of her grandfather's trusty pickaxe? That was quite a spirit.
"Alright, but it is a long first name."
The judge adjusted his glasses and nodded. "Bless her. It's a beautiful name." He said it monotonously.
Cathy's expression changed at being complimented, and she smiled. The interaction surprised Mark, who hadn't seen her face move a muscle for weeks.
"It has been decided. Esmeralda Kate Malcolm." The judge announced.
Mark cheered.
The judge and Cathy looked at him in disappointment, and he shrank. "Sorry, I got excited."
"But I am the one getting a new name?" Cathy raised a brow. The judge's lips twitched at that before clearing his throat and assuming his straight face.
Mark smiled. He had been struggling with so many doubts about having to raise a child, but day by day, he grew more confident.
He would make sure his niece enjoyed everything thirteen years could offer—until those ones came for her.