I Was Born The Unloved Twin 67 Wrong Timeline But What Else Do We Have?

I've probably left out some detail, okay fine I left out a lot of detail.

Speaking out how I died is hard ok?

It's hard for the both of us I'm sure. It's not like grampa gave me the full anthology version of his events either. All I got was a b.l.o.o.d.y siege that resulted in a lot of deaths with a grand finale of a thousand or so flaming arrows piercing through him fatally.

"Wait wait, how old were you when you first died?"

"Hmmmm about 17? Or was I 16? Kind of hard to keep track of the years when you spend the first few alone in the wilderness. "

I still don't know how grampa survived those early years, blessed child or not. I was born into the lap of luxury, as backwater as the standards are. I get a roof, a bed, and maids to feed me when they remember I exist.

As annoying as my maids are, it has to be easier to scream for them to feed me then go rolling for own food.

Where did he get milk to suckle? How did he move? Did he just baby roll to safety? Did a wild beast adopt him? See it's really hard to ask all these things so our conversation was very...stilted and random.

"...diapers?"

"Didn't wear any! I just wiped on the gra.s.s or whatever was suitable. Quite freeing really"

"...milk?"

"Roaming mountain goats! If you cry a certain pitch they think you're one of them!"

"....not getting eaten?"

"Cover yourself in the mud to throw off your scent and be unappetizing! Keeps you both warm and cool. Protected from parasitic insects too!"

That...is awful. I only spent a few days on my own in the wilderness but I was already shaking for my life. There's a reason I kept hiding in trees and bushes! The forest grampa dropped me off in is nothing compared to wherever he was born. For one there are no dinosaurs to hunt or herds of mountain goats to suckle.

"Huh I wonder what that even tastes like..."

I'm getting distracted again, actually, it's very easy to get distracted with grampa. Our one true talk is horribly random as we both get distracted.

"The mountain goat milk? You've had it before Rosa, I snuck wild nursing goats to supply your baby bottle feedings. What else were we supposed to do after you started refusing the nursemaids?"

"....."

"You were such a healthy drinker though! Even more so than when you were nursing! Ha! I always knew wild mountain goat milk was better for children!

Do you see what I mean by randomness?

See Gable, this is why you shouldn't leave grampa and me alone! We're awkward and horrible together!

"Hmmmm and how old were you when you died again pumpkin?"

"The first or the second time?"

"First? Both?"

"17? and somehow I can't really remember when....I think...no that's no right...at least 25? At the very least. You?"

"Can't recall, don't even know how I died. Maybe 30? Somewhere around there?"

There is a pattern here but it's something I can't piece together yet. Something terribly suspicious and grampa knows that already, for far longer than I do.

Is the topic important? Yes!

Is it urgent though?

Probably not, I have a few years left before any real trouble comes for me and over a decade until my dramatic death scene. Seeing how grampa didn't have a repeat of his a few years back I say I have hope for overwriting mine.

There's a mystery here but it isn't mine to solve. None of this affected the original timeline, at least not directly. Of course, I'm not dumb enough to think it's entirely unrelated. I don't honestly think my own original death is something simple, it was orchestrated from behind. The original Rosalia was always paranoid about too many little things, beyond the typical to-be queen a.s.sa.s.sination attempts. That's why she often adorned herself with expensive enchanted jewels.

The only problem was that she needed a lot of them to be effective for some reason.

The negativity. The original Rosalia didn't know about her pa.s.sive ability, no one did. Who would? There was no way anyone could have known when it does nothing. It was overshadowed by Lilyanne's blessing.

Sure she could use enchanted tools and items but they seemed to run dead too soon or not be as effective as promised. The previous me just a.s.sumed she was either getting swindled or magical tools were simply limited to that. Absolute trash compared to having the real ability. It was still better than nothing.

With that many enchanted amulets and jewels, it's no wonder I took so long to die. Or how I could even handle that many lethal wounds. Geez talk about overkill.

Presently I haven't encountered that issue, even though I haven't used much. None of the tools I ever touched seem to be low on power. They're usually freshly charged by Lilyanne and I. The only exception is Luka's cooling ice stone, only that is a foreign tool that we didn't charge ourselves.

But it works just fine.

Either way something odd is going on.

Both grampa and I lived and died as the originals of this world. And when we died again, right before being reborn to this place, none of us can't recall how we died. Isn't that just suspicious, also why us?

"Are we the only ones?"

"As far as I know, and I've checked. I keep checking everywhere I've been. To be honest your birth was a surprise. First I've ever seen."

"How did you even know though?"

What are the indicators that tell a reincarnator to another? Grampa shook his head, this is something he can't tell me.

"That, you're going to have to figure out yourself."

I fall silent.

It's not like I've run out of things to ask, or things to talk about. Rather, there's too much. I don't know where to next go, what to next say. To be honest I'm already feeling quite overwhelmed.

It's like when it rains too much too soon. Even if everyone needs it to rain, if it comes down all at once rather than gradually, it will flash flood. The ground can't drink it up fast enough and it floods into a mess.

That's the state of my brain right now.

This is too much 'talking' for me, too much awkwardness. I know chances like these are awfully rare, knowing grampa, he'll just run away again.

But I have that same habit.

"...Is that enough for now?" excuses are already spilling out of me.

We did enough today right?

Grampa gives me a half conflicted look, between what he should be doing and how he actually wants to proceed. For a moment I think he breaks and I have my usual derpy grampa back. But maybe the little voice inside him, the one that probably sounds like Gable, makes a point.

"Yeah, that's enough...for today. If you want it to be. "

Oh great, now the little Gable sounding voice is affecting me too. d.a.m.n it.

Guess I have put in some more effort on my part too.

"....I don't know. I don't know because there's a lot to say and a lot to ask and I don't know where to start. I don't know what any of this means or what it's even supposed to mean? I don't even know what I'm allowed to say."

Ah, I over spoke. When I do say something it comes out as a rambling mess. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't make more sense. Can we go back to random distractions? Or just going home? Oh wait, I'm already home, I guess.

"What aren't you allowed to say?" asked grampa after some time considering his words himself.

"I don't know. I don't know but I know it's going to be bad if I say out everything I'm thinking. I think some not so good stuff and I know things I shouldn't. I don't know when I'll spill the wrong thing at the wrong time and ruin myself. So I always have to be careful. I always have to watch my words and what I'm doing or who is watching me."

He looks at me like a scientist would look at a recently discovered bacteria. Some part morbid fascination, a good part confusion and even a slight look of disgust. See this is why this is difficult.

I can fool other people around me, I can even behave for Gable, but I can't fool the great hero Ronald. I can't play along and I don't know how to act when we're not doing our routine in front of mother, father or Lilyanne.

What are we?

I'm this strange bacteria thing that's invaded and settled into his family. I'm the reborn outsider. Where do I fit into this place? How do I proceed from here on? My only goal ultimately is that I don't want to die again, not like that, but I don't want to die right now either.

I don't think I can make it very well if I left right now. It's unfortunate but I can't be independent yet, I can't cut myself away yet.

"That's...something you don't have to consider living out in the woods." finally spoke grampa, it seems he really did think over my rambling nonsense and compared it to his own.

I suppose not, despite both being reincarnatiors our similarity ends there.

I don't get to be a hero in my story, not like him.

"But I wasn't born free somewhere. I was born here, in this mansion...I'm going to grow into a hated woman, a n.o.belwoman surrounded by politics and schemes, and I'm going to die as one. I'm sorry. I wasn't born with any magic or useful powers. I'm sorry, I didn't choose this either."

Can I shut up now? Can I stop before I say something really stupid? Before I dive too deep?

"You're not going to grow up hated." he tried.
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I can see him trying and I appreciate it, I really do. But it's no use to try to comfort me with empty words.

"I wasn't born Lilyanne. I'm not the right one, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude. I didn't even know who I was until I came here when I was born. I'm not going to hurt anyone, I don't think I even can. I'm not very strong, no magic. But I really won't....so please don't think of me as a threat. I won't do anything, even if I was capable of anything."

Am I scary? I am aren't I? Even though I don't really know what people were so scared of? I never cut off anyone's head or anything, though I did threaten many things and created a fuss here and there. I was a very proper n.o.ble villainess after all.

But did that really warrant me the awful reputation that I had?

Has history ever saw a demon child as boring as me? I don't know what the original Rosalia was cursed with to have her lot in life.

As an outsider, or someone who was once an outsider, I think she was a very unfortunate and very unloved child. A child that never got to grow up and heal. The only problem is right now, I'm that child all over again.

Why me? Why her? Why were we cursed to repeat this life?

"...You're not a threat. I know Rosalia. I know you're a good girl. I admit I didn't know, couldn't have known, years ago when you were first born. I admit I'm paranoid on too many points- and you felt that."

"Didn't you hear me! I'm not good! If this was a story I'd be the bad guy! Or well...one of them."

"And who were the others?"

What am I talking about? My brain hurts. The tragic life of Rosalia Therese Ventrella was short but it wasn't that short. She had thoughts, had plans, theories and schemes of her own. It's complicated and it doesn't make sense.

Did they really have to kill me? What would that really achieve? Too many people would have benefitted from me being dead, far too many. Almost the same amount of people who would benefit from Lilyanne being the sole heriess, absolutely free from my evil clutches.

With me gone, Lilyanne was free to marry that horrible prince. But she was also left vulnerable to so many things. I was the eldest, the main heir and head of the Ventrellas while grampa was gone. Even though we're the same age, even though we're identical twins, people had to answer to me before approaching her.

"...I don't know.....I died too soon. I couldn't- I couldn't find them all and I couldn't...." where am I going with this?

"Rosalia? Rosalia, look at me. It's okay, that's plenty, more than enough for today."

When I don't listen, grampa lifts me up further from his lap and turns me to face him. I don't know who he's seeing here. Me? Or his original real grandchild? Maybe even himself.

"The memories, they're a lot to unload. Most people already have a hard time living with their current lifetime of memories, not to say one or two additional ones. Don't force yourself to work it all out at once, G.o.ds know I didn't. "

This is what I wanted. I wanted a sign that said enough, that I can stop talking now. But somehow I can't. The scary feelings are spilling out, the memories I tried not to think too hard about are emerging.

"Lilyanne's in danger. She's always going to be in danger, too many strange people are after her and the dawn blessing. I can't do it, I couldn't even keep myself safe. You have to -"

"Shhh that's enough Rosalia, I know. I know that better than anyone."

"You left, you left us alone. You left on another stupid trip and you didn't come back! You knew I couldn't do anything and you still left!"

Somehow, somewhere along the way I have started crying. It's this sensitive young body, it cries so easily!

Like a child, I can't stop hiccupping these tears. It's so uncomfortable!

The big man underneath me takes my tantrum and any weak hits that land on him. I bet it feels like nothing to him, maybe a baby animal pawing. I'm so pathetic.

"They died.... Mama and papa died, they *hic* never found their *hichic* bodies. But I know they died, why else wouldn't they come home to Lilyanne? They wouldn't leave her! Then you *hic* left too! Are you all idiots!? ...Did you die too?!"

"I don't know that. Not yet. I'm sorry."

Sorry means absolutely nothing, this isn't even the right timeline to blame.

The man that should be the world's greatest most intimidating hero is now stuck rocking a crying toddler who is going through an awful tantrum. If I wasn't so unreasonably hurt, so sad and scared from whatever old resurfaced feelings, I'd be laughing at how awkward I must have made things for him. Serves the old man right.

I want to scream more but I've spilled too much already. I've said more things I can't take back. But it doesn't stop because I've broken the d.a.m.n and now stuck in this flood I've let loose.

"They died? My Maria will die?"

He doesn't stop rocking me and I hate it. I hate being treated like a crying child, I hate that I can't stop.

"They *hic* left and they didn't come back, *hic*they were supposed to come back! Their carriage was never *hic* found."

"When?"

It's hard to talk when I can't stop hiccuping! But grampa doesn't rush me after he asks a question, just rocks my tiny frame and pats my back too harshly with his large hand. I don't like this, let me go! Don't be nice to me, it makes it all worse!

"When Rosalia, when?"

He places a disgustingly soft kiss to my head, and another to my reddening forehead. It makes me cry even harder and it's horrible.

If you want something just tell me. Let's just make a fair business deal between rational adults. Please don't be nice to me. Don't be good to me when I don't get to keep it.

"8. *hic* 8 years from now.*hic* We were 10." I manage to sob out and somehow he manages to understand me.

"That's a good girl, thank you for telling me Rosa. Thank you for opening up and letting me help. You don't have to remember anymore, not for today. You can rest. We have time, we can save them this time. "

"No. *hic* No I don't."

I don't have much time left and I've cut it even shorter now.

This family won't get rid of me yet. They still need me to keep Lilyannie healthy. Until she can control her powers on her own, they can't get rid of me. But our baptism is coming up, and then the first major domino will fall.

They never hit me or cursed me, at least my parents didn't. The maids and my upper instructors were another story. But for the most part I wasn't mistreated. I just....wasn't there, like a ghost.

I shouldn't have been born in the first place. That's what I learned from my first round of childhood.

So that's why I can't handle it, I don't react well to you guys being nice to me. Stop it. Go back to ignoring me already. I'm ready for that, I've been ready.

I'll go away when it's the right time and won't bother you, won't bother Lilyanne anymore. Just give me a few more years. So don't play these mind games with me ok?

"You really want to leave?"

Even though he asked like it was a statement, his hold gets even more uncomfortable. s.h.i.+t I'm so tired from crying that I have little to no filter between my words and thoughts anymore.

"Of course I want to leave! Who wouldn't!? I'm like an alien or something playing house and invading your home life! You should be thanking me for getting out of your hair so easily! I won't even demand financial compensation after I make my profits turnover...so..."

The silence is even more uncomfortable when the room was just so loud. Since the noise is coming all from me, it's up to me to keep filling it,

"So it's ok. You can let me go. I'm not really a baby and you don't have to pretend so much."

"....."

I'm sniffing too hard and my eyes are probably a puffy mess but I'm trying to be serious here as I try to compose myself. Giving myself a little more dignity than a crying child that needs to be held.

I hope you're proud of me Gable because I'm sure as h.e.l.l not proud of myself right now. But I'm trying to do the right thing, as awful as it feels.

"I'll be good in front of Lilyanne and everyone. You can still find me later on if you somehow need me, I know you can. It's ok. But for now...can I still play along? I'm too small to go anywhere, I'm not strong like you. Can I still act like Rosalia of this house?"

"For G.o.d's sake of course Rosalia, who else would you be?"

Good, he's already back to playing along. I can do this...I can get these terms and conditions out in the clear.

"Then...at least for now....can I still call you grampa? At least for appearance's sake? I don't know what else to call you when I'm supposed to be Rosalia."

And I think I broke him, I think I finally broke grampa because he starts whimpering and crying ugly himself, big cow eyes and all. It's awful how much it resembles Lilyanne, but worse than that it breaks what little composure I managed to gather. So now we're both crying and it really is a flooded mess in here.

Hey stop that, I'm the toddler here! Why in the world are you crying too!

This is officially the worse 1st meeting of the reincarnator's club. Gable, don't leave us alone with each other anymore!