7 Chapter 7, Mistakes
I walked alongside Ylisse's Exalt, Emmeryn, as she gracefully strode through the streets of Ylisstol, her knights keeping a tight formation around her all the while. The previous mob followed us like a massive herd of ducklings, and the more we walked the larger the flock became.
It was an scene no one wanted to miss: Ylisse's Exalt, accompanied by the Guardian of the Halidom. While the stupid title continued to irk me like an unwanted rash, I was glad my reputation got the rioters to freeze in their tracks.
Emmeryn would glance at me from time to time, as if making sure I was really here and not a figment of her imagination. Curious, I used [Structural Analysis] on the Exalt.
NAME: Emmeryn, Exalt of Ylisse
AGE: 18
CLASS: Exalt
LEVEL: 1
EXP: 0 / 100
HIT POINTS: 20 / 20
STRENGTH:1
MAGIC: 9
SKILL: 5
SPEED: 7
LUCK: 4
DEFENSE: 5
RESISTANCE: 6
STATUS: Happy, Comforted, Relieved
Well, Emmeryn definitely wasn't winning any arm wrestling competitions anytime soon. I returned my focus to my own screen, as I'd gotten a notification for half-killing the Plegian assassin.
[+10 to EXP!]
More than I expected from that small-fry. Perhaps because his class was Assassin?
[You've Leveled Up!]
NAME: ???
AGE: 19
CLASS: ???
LEVEL: 10 (+1)
EXP: 7 / 100
HIT POINTS: 33 / 34 (+1)
STRENGTH:19 (+1)
MAGIC: 12 (-1, Projection)
SKILL: 15
SPEED: 14 (+1)
LUCK: 0
DEFENSE: 13
RESISTANCE: 16 (+1)
While the SYSTEM didn't grant me a chance to class-change, as I'd previously hoped, it did offer something else; something I didn't expect.
[Ding!]
[Congratulations! You've successfully reached your second milestone! The SYSTEM will now bequeath you a reward for your continuous hard work!]
[Please select <Option #1> or <Options #2>]
[Option #1: receive TWO gifts of your choice from across the Legend of Zelda series!]
[Option #2: receive FOUR randomized gifts from across the Legend of Zelda series!]
I almost tripped over my own feet in surprise. It was the same reward screen that'd popped up when I defeated Victor the Berserker at Border Pass and reached Level 5. Could these "milestones" occur every five levels? But the main difference had to be that I could manually choose two rewards instead of one, or get four random gifts instead of the previous three.
I closed the screen, postponing it for now. This time, I was in no rush.
We meandered through the pristine streets of Ylisstol for another hour, allowing me to get a good look at the capital of Ylisse. I wondered if Emmeryn was giving me an impromptu tour of her city. Whatever the case, I took everything in, from the wide and expertly paved streets to the tall buildings lining the neat roads. It was certainly a lot nicer and more organized than the smaller cities and villages I'd passed through; kind of like a renaissance town.
All the while, the crowd following us grew and grew, especially when word of mouth spread the news that the Guardian of the Halidom was here.
Emmeryn's procession stopped at a center square, somewhere in the heart of Ylisstol. She stood at the base of a large fountain portraying the Divine Dragon, Naga. Her knights set up a wide perimeter around her in case of another attempted riot.
I suppose this was where Emmeryn would address the crowd, telling them her hopes for the future while mollifying any potential fears they might have. Judging from the sea of jaded expressions, this wasn't her first attempt, though it might've been the first time no one dared to raise their voice since I was here. So I stayed by her side, searching the horde of townsfolk with my [Structural Analysis].
Bingo. I discovered several more Plegian spies, all clandestinely working to spread their poison throughout the crowd, whispering lies and fabrications into unwitting ears to sow discontent.
It seemed after Gangrel's plan with the bandits of Ylisse fell through, he switched up his strategy. It was thanks to these saboteurs (and my blunder with the Fierce Deity) that Emmeryn's attempts to reach the Ylisseans were forever doomed to fail.
Like hell I was going to let that happen.
Emmeryn took a deep breath as she prepared to bare her heart to her citizens, right until I stepped forward and interrupted her.
"Before you begin," I said, startling the Exalt, "there's something I'd like to say."
I could feel Phila glaring holes into me for my interruption.
Emmeryn, meanwhile, took it all in stride. "Please, you're more than welcome to share your voice with the people of Ylisse."
"My words aren't for them. They're for you," I said as I fully faced the Exalt.
Emmeryn tensed. "For … me?"
"He's here to denounce you, traitorous Exalt!" a woman from the throng screamed.
I slammed Ragnell against the cobble street, the blessed blade fracturing the paved stone like it was an eggshell, impeding any potential acts of unrests.
"Be quiet, Crow-2," I said, my hard voice carrying across the capital. "Or would you prefer I call you Sadie?"
The Plegian spy paled as I easily identified her, and Phila swiftly motioned for a pair of her knights to break ranks and detain the wretch. Realizing her cover was blown, Crow-2 tried to slink away as discreetly as possible. I considered shooting her in the knee with an arrow, but wasn't keen on firing into such a tight crowd.
The other Plegians tried to appear nondescript, to blend in with the rest of the Ylisseans. I wordlessly pointed them all out, one by one, to let them know that I knew who they all were, and that their lives were forfeit if they stayed.
They hurriedly chose to turn heel and flee, with Phila urgently ordering what knights she could spare to pursue them.
Emmeryn was dismayed to see so many spies amongst her people; I noticed her clutching the hem of her robes to keep her hands from shaking. With less knights in her protective detail, the remainder tightened their perimeter to stop any undesirables from slipping between them, letting the throng of Ylisseans draw closer to the Exalt.
Now that the Plegian rabble were gone, I spoke.
"I'm sorry," I said, catching everyone off guard with my abrupt apology, most especially Emmeryn.
"Wh-Whatever for?" Emmeryn stammered.
"For not coming to your aid sooner," I clarified. "I knew of some of the troubles you were facing, but chose to do nothing until now."
"And why is that?" Phila spoke up, standing abreast of the Exalt, her jaw taut. "Why was the Exalt exempt from your bountiful aid?"
"Phila," Emmeryn faintly chided, "there's no need for—"
"She's every right to ask, it's a fair question," I said. "The reason I did nothing … was because I believe in you, Emmeryn."
A small gasp escaped the Exalt's lips at my declaration, along with most of the crowd gathered here today.
"I … I don't believe I understand."
"I believe in you," I explained. "I believe if there's anyone who can unite Ylisse and lead it to an age of peace, it'll be you. Because there's nobody who loves this country more than you. Everything you've done, and everything you've been through, you did for the sake of peace; for the sake of your countrymen. You're someone"—a brief image of Emmeryn willingly falling off the skull of Grima flashed through my mind—"who'd willingly give their life for those you love. Ylisse is lucky to have you as its Exalt. Had Plegia not interfered, I truly believe your words and actions would've won the hearts and minds of your people eventually."
"I … that's …" Emmeryn's lips were trembling, with unshed tears gathering in her misty eyes. Crap, was she about to cry? Why?! I only said encouraging things, didn't I? Things I truly meant! There shouldn't be a reason for waterworks!
"B-But the Omen!" a random nobody protested from the huge assembly. "The Omen is proof of the Divine Dragon's displeasure!"
I scanned the dissident with [Structural Analysis] to see if they were a Plegian I'd missed; they weren't. They were simply a blind devotee of Naga.
"The Omen had nothing to do with Naga," I declared, my assertion rippling through the crowd.
"How do you know this?" Phila demanded.
"Because I was there, at the epicenter of the storm, when it happened."
A massive hush fell over the capital.
"Then …" Emmeryn spoke, her clasped hands trembling "… what caused the Omen?"
Shit. Foot, meet mouth; the two were practically close acquaintances by now. I used Bullet Time, stretching out the seconds to give myself a moment to think. Was I going to tell all of Ylisse about the Fierce Deity Mask? Absolutely not. The last thing I needed was power-hungry sociopaths to learn about the godly artifact and try to steal the damn thing. All it took was one lucky thief, and bye-bye world.
You know what? It was totally Plegia's fault I was here, cleaning up their disgusting attempts to denounce the Exalt and destabilize Ylisse. So it was only fair I threw a bit of shade the Mad King's way.
"It was Plegia," I confidently lied as time resumed. "They were trying to smuggle a devastating super-weapon into Ylisse, one capable of clouding skies before releasing an explosion of dark magic on an unheard of scale. Have you seen what's happened to Border Pass?" A paling Exalt nervously nodded; it'd be hard to overlook a missing mountain. "That was me activating its detonation sequence before its Plegian handlers could sneak it into its intended destination: Ylisstol."
The possibility I'd painted was so horrible it made the Exalt tremble violently. Beside her, Phila was gripping her silver lance with such ferocity it threatened to dent the shaft. A quick glance at the sea of civilians told me my fabrication was being rapidly eaten up like free candy.
"If … if such a calamitous device had found its way into the capital …" Emmeryn murmured, unable to finish her sentence at the horrific prospect I'd laid out.
"Plegian dogs!" Phila snarled. "The Mad King dares?!"
"He also tried funding the local bandits to rape and pillage their way across Ylissean lands," I threw out there.
"Why?" Phila demanded. She didn't doubt my words, but wanted to know the reasoning behind the Mad King's actions. "Why would King Gangrel go to such cowardly lengths?"
I shrugged, not wanting to give away too many answers, as they might get suspicious if I showed I knew too much.
"Can the Mad King commission more of these weapons?"
"There's no telling," I replied, running with the lie. "I've no idea how the first was made, but overheard it took considerable resources. I've kept my eye out in case Plegia tried to make a second, but so far the coast has been clear."
Phila nodded in gratitude, likely making plans to double or triple the patrols at the Ylisse-Plegia border.
The citizens of Ylisstol were taking the news much more bleakly. They'd thought Naga was on their side, that the Divine Dragon they all venerated disapproved of their current Exalt; I'd revealed that they couldn't have been more wrong. I watched as shame, doubts, and self-loathing propagated across the capital, and knew it wouldn't be long before it permeated across the halidom.
"Is conflict with Plegia truly inevitable?" Emmeryn asked weakly. My info-dumps had taken a toll on the Exalt, as she looked legitimately ill.
I wanted to say "Absolutely," but instead said, "Possibly."
"You need only give the order, your Grace," Phila said, standing at full attention. "The armies of Ylisse will stand by you in punishing these Plegian curs."
But Emmeryn wasn't heartened by her friend's assurance. If anything, her complexion became sickly-pale.
"The last war between Ylisse and Plegia left tens of thousands dead," the Exalt lamented, sounding more haggard than humanly possible. "Many more were injured and without homes to return to. It very nearly destroyed the halidom. Should we engage in another, no matter our reasons …"
Goods gods, Emmeryn was full-on crying now, with silent tears cascading down her creeks in waves. Making the Exalt cry was not on my to-do list today! Phila and the other knights were panicking at the sight, having no idea what to do.
While I felt like an ass for making Emmeryn cry, I think I understood what was eating her up. She'd been doing everything in her power to stabilize her country and pull it out of the dredges of the last war, withstanding trials that would've broke most people, and sustained by little more than the sheer goodness of her heart. Everything she bore and went through, she did for the sake of Ylisse … and now I'd basically told her Gangrel was going to take a massive crap all over that by embroiling her country in yet another bloody war.
Man, screw Gangrel and his half-assed redemption Paralogue.
I took one of Emmeryn's small hands in my own, giving it a consoling squeeze as I tried to give her reassurance. Emmeryn lifted her head, her wet eyes meeting my Keaton Mask.
"You've always done your best," I said kindly, "and none of this is your fault. There are men out there who simply want to watch the world burn, even if they're swallowed by those very flames along the way."
"And King Gangrel … is one such man?" Emmeryn asked weakly.
I scoured my brain for information about Plegia's monarch; memories pertaining to the game's storyline, Gangrel's Paralogue, and the Mad King's support conversations.
"Not quite," I admitted. "From what I learned, he takes pleasure in warfare itself, and likely wants to slake his thirst after weakening both Ylisse and Ferox."
"Regna Ferox?" Phila asked.
I nodded. "He's ambitious, but war isn't here yet. Keep doing what you're doing," I encouraged, "be the Exalt the halidom needs."
"But King Gangrel—" Emmeryn tried to protest.
"—will find no purchase in Ylisse," I swore, making a mental note to go spy-hunting in the near future. "You're not alone in this Emmeryn; never alone. You may be the heart of this country, but your knights and armies are its shield. Trust in them to protect you and all you hold dear."
While my confident voice never wavered, making me appear more sure than I actually was, my trusty Keaton Mask ensured no one could see my constipated face.
Screw me sideways, was that the right thing to say? I don't know, I really don't know! I didn't come here prepare for any of this! Heck, I was basically making stuff up as I went! I mean, seriously, was I really in a position to give a monarch life advice? I was nothing more than a transmigrated hobo searching for his own answers to life! What right did I have to give the Exalt of Ylisse words of wisdom?
Yet Emmeryn was definitely buying it as she beheld me with misplaced awe.
"I cannot help but envy your confidence," the Exalt said softly. "Despite the burdens you've chosen to bear, you remain steadfast." She was giving me way too much credit there. "While I … there are days where I feel I am drowning; suffocating underneath Ylisse's hatred." I glanced at the crowd, and saw guilt proliferating like a disease. "Some days … some days I fear my words matters little, that my feelings are misplaced … that all my struggles will be for naught. It's as though I'm falling … endlessly falling into a pit devoid of warmth or light … and—"
I gave Emmeryn's hand a comforting squeeze, cutting off her self-deprecation.
"If you're falling, then all you need is someone to catch you."
…
… oh GOD! Did I seriously just say that to Emmeryn of all people?! What the hell was wrong with me?! My foot was practically French kissing my mouth at this point! I wanted to Traced a hammer and knock myself out so badly right now!
Yet somehow it must've been something Ylisse's Exalt needed to hear, because her teary eyes widened to the point where I could almost see her inner strength blossoming within once more.
"You truly are the Guardian of the Halidom," Emmeryn said earnestly, nearly blinding me with how brilliant her earnest smile was. "Not even I, the Exalt, am spared from your saving reach."
I chuckled; it was better than breaking down hysterically, wondering how I'd cornered myself to this point. I was seriously considering adopting the role of a silent protagonist, as that way my mouth wouldn't be writing checks I couldn't cash.
I let go of Emmeryn's hand, though I could feel her fingers reluctantly release mine. With a tilt of my masked head, I gestured to the sea of Ylisseans gathered here today and said, "They're waiting for you."
Emmeryn nodded, and took a deep breath as she recomposed herself.
Turning away from me, she faced her people, her stance far more confident and assured than ever before.
She spoke, once more baring her soul to the citizens of Ylisse.
And this time, they listened.
~
I'm sure today would go down in Ylissean history; some gray-haired shmuck in the castle was likely already writing down everything that happened here to preserve this moment in the annuls of time: the day Ylisse began to accept their brave Exalt.
I wanted to book it before my stupidity got me into anymore trouble, but before I could slink into the shadows and disappear Emmeryn asked if I'd like a tour of the royal castle. Would there be political ramifications for her if the Guardian of the Halidom rejected her invite? Probably; politics were trash like that, and I didn't come all this way to dig Emmeryn out of a hole of my own making just to toss her into another one.
So repressing a groan, I accepted.
I pretended to be an enthused tourist as Emmeryn personally led me through the castle's hallowed hallways, though there was a regiment of royal knights accompanying us at all times. Just because I was the Guardian of the Halidom didn't mean they trusted me enough to leave me alone with their Exalt. We toured the inner gardens (which were magnificently kept; wish I had a camera), the castle's barracks (I saw a flash of blue hair and desperately asked to be lead elsewhere), and the royal library (lots of books and scrolls; Robin would love it).
Eventually, Emmeryn was called away to attend to her usual duties. She asked me to forgive her for cutting the tour short, and I assured her it was no big deal. One of the royal knights offered to take the Exalt's place in showing me the castle, but I declined and said I'd much rather rest for the evening.
So I was stashed in a lavish guest room, with my own maid watching my every move and ready to fulfill my every order at a moment's notice.
Now that I was (sort of) alone, I sat in the ivory seat by the fireplace, folded my fingers, and turned my attention to my [Second Milestone].
I had no plans on picking [Option #2]. My gut—and my literal ZERO luck—told me obtaining the Fierce Deity's Mask through chance was a once-in-a-lifetime miracle. If I went for [Option #2] a second time, I was damn sure I'd wind up with worthless items like [Tumbleweed] from Skyward Sword or [Pumpkin Seeds] from Twilight Princess.
[Option #1] was the way to go.
The only question now was what I wanted.
I started compiling a list. What were my favorite items from the Zelda games I'd played?
I always liked the [Longshot] from Ocarina of Time, and zipping around Ylisse on a grappling device like a medieval Batman did sound cool. I loved using [Din's Fire], but already had a plethora of spells under my belt. The [Biggoron's Sword] was the best weapon in Ocarina of Time, but I didn't think it stacked up well when compared to Ragnell (Enhanced). What about the [Golden Gauntlets]? I was always a bit iffy on how those actually worked. They let Link throw gargantuan pillars that doubtlessly weighed hundreds of tons, yet didn't increase his damage output. I mean, huh?
What about stuff from Majora's Mask? One of the three transformation masks? Something to consider. Why not the [Bunny Hood]? It was my favorite mask in the game, as it let Link run much faster. Then again, I could already do that with [Reinforcement], and I didn't want to replace my Keaton Mask with the [Bunny Hood] anytime soon. I don't think people would take the Guardian of the Halidom seriously if they saw me running around with a pair of bunny ears; no offense, Panne. Hell, the Taguel might actually be offended. [All-Night Mask]? Nah, I shouldn't torture myself by losing the ability to sleep. [Giant's Mask]? Hot damn, there's some major potential for destruction right there, but I'd also have to worry about accidentally stepping on an ally.
I continued mentally cycling through my list of favorite Zelda items until I was agonizing over my final selection. Man, I really wanted to zip across the fields of Ylisse on the [Master Cycle Zero], but what would I do with the damn thing when I wasn't using it? I couldn't just leave it behind, someone would steal it! Gods, Breath of the Wild Link was one lucky guy, having access to such a convenient inventory system …
The epiphany hit me like a goddess's revelation.
Standing up so suddenly I caused my attending maid to give a startled yelp, I reread the holographic screen floating in front of my face.
[Congratulations! You've successfully reached your second milestone! The SYSTEM will now bequeath you a reward for your continuous hard work!]
[Please select <Option #1> or <Options #2>]
[Option #1: receive TWO gifts of your choice from across the Legend of Zelda series!]
[Option #2: receive FOUR randomized gifts from across the Legend of Zelda series!]
Gift … gift … the screen said I could choose a gift from across the Zelda series, but nowhere did it say that gift had to be an item! Could I really do this? Could I seriously ask for that?
There was only one way to find out.
"Option 1," I said, ignoring the perplexed maid in the corner of the room.
[Ding!]
[<Option #1> selected! Please choose your desired gifts!]
"The fully upgraded inventory system from Breath of the Wild."
I held my breath, my heart skipping as I waited. For a handful of seconds, nothing happened, and my chest tightened in disappointment.
Then—
[Ding!]
[Request accepted! Granting user a new Personal Skill! <Inventory of the Wild Hero>!]
A new screen appeared before me, one I recognized on sight: the Inventory screen from the Breath of the Wild game. It was divided into seven different tabs: one for weapons, another for bows and arrows, a third for shields, then armor, materials, food, and finally key items.
Withholding a shudder of excitement, I Traced a basic iron sword (tuning out the maid's "Eep!" of fright), and tried pushing it into the Inventory screen; it uselessly passed through the window.
Frowning, I took a different approach.
<Un-equip>, I ordered, and jumped when my sword vanished from my hand without any visual indication or warning. My delight rose tenfold as I saw it appear as an icon in one of the Inventory's weapon slots.
<Equip!> Unlike with my [Projection, Trace Version], there was no flash of light or hum from my magic circuits. My iron sword simply reappeared in my hands, like it'd blinked into existence.
Dimensional bag of holding, get!
Still, I didn't get too far ahead of myself. The [Inventory of the Wild Hero] had its limitations. It could only hold up to 20 melee weapons, 13 bows, and 20 separate shields at a time. On the other hand, armor, materials, food, and key items (whatever qualified as one) could be stockpiled in insane quantities. This was a huge improvement over physically carrying my gear and supplies everywhere I went!
I planned on filling the weapon slots as soon as possible. Sure, Tracing weapons was incredibly convenient, but still ate a point of magic. By using actual weapons, I could use those free points on [Reinforcement] while in combat.
Plus, as far as I knew, once something was in my Inventory only I could take it out, making this skill the most secure vault in the entire world. With this, I no longer had to worry about some vandal stealing the Fierce Deity Mask right off my belt. Hell, I should be putting it away right now!
Yet when I reached down and patted my belt, said mask was mysteriously absent.
I nearly shit myself then and there. Where was it?! How did FUCK did I misplace the single most dangerous artifact in this entire world?!? I nearly went into a seizure of panic as I scoured my most recent memories.
Then I remembered: I dropped it. I dropped the motherfucking Fierce Deity's Mask when I came racing to Ylisstol at top speed … leaving it behind with Robin and Morgan.
A sliver of calm wormed its way into my heart. It surprised me with how much I trusted them to look after and not put on the mask of a dead god. Still, I'd feel MUCH better if the magical WMD was resting comfortably in my brand new Inventory.
"I need to go," I immediately announced, dismissing my sword Projection and heading straight for the door, likely freaking out the poor Ylissean maid with my mood swings.
"I-Is there so-something amiss with your accommodations?" the maid squeezed out, like she was blaming herself for my frantic actions. Probably thought she'd unknowingly insulted me somehow.
"I've remembered an urgent matter I need to see to," I said, assuring the poor girl that she'd done nothing wrong. Just because I could, I reached into my Colossal Wallet and tossed the maid a green rupee. Her jaw almost hit the carpets as the precious gemstone landed in her open palms. "For your trouble."
I then took the wallet off my belt and sent it into the [Inventory of the Wild Hero]. To the maid, it appeared as though the gem-encrusted bag vanished into thin air. Sparing one last glance at the Inventory menu, I saw the words [Rupees: 9,284] appear on the top-right side of the screen.
Good to know.
I reached the door with a few wide strides and yanked it open, ready to put all my available magic into [Reinforcement], but came to an abrupt halt when I spotte someone was already standing on the other side.
A 12 year old boy, with neatly trimmed but iconic blue hair, wearing a pristine navy tunic only royalty could afford to wear. But what really solidified his identity was the mark on his bare right shoulder: the Brand of the Exalt.
This was Chrom, main protagonist of Fire Emblem Awakening.
Out of reflex, I hit him with [Structural Analysis].
NAME: Chrom, Prince of Ylisse
AGE: 12
CLASS: Lord
LEVEL: 2
EXP: 55 / 100
HIT POINTS: 21 / 21
STRENGTH: 6
MAGIC: 1
SKILL: 6
SPEED: 7
LUCK: 5
DEFENSE: 6
RESISTANCE: 2
STATUS: Nervous, Grateful
Those were some really good stats for a 12 year old. Looking again, I saw Chrom had a lot less baby fat than kids his age, while his arms were sinewy from hours of harsh training. In a few years, he'd no doubt bulk up even more. Seeing how he was Level 2, the kid was definitely committing himself to getting stronger.
Confirmation of Chrom's age also told me Awakening's canon was a while away, as the Prince of Ylisse sure as heck wasn't a kid when he went to war with Plegia.
Standing behind the young prince was his ever-diligent shadow: Frederick, an impressively sized knight nearly as tall as Basilio. His cedar hair was windswept, his features strong but impassive, and his sky-blue armor thick enough to deflect an axe but not so heavy he couldn't mount a horse.
NAME: Frederick, Royal Knight of Ylisse
AGE: 20
CLASS: Cavalier
LEVEL: 10
EXP: 81 / 100
HIT POINTS: 22 / 22
STRENGTH: 10
MAGIC: 1
SKILL: 9
SPEED: 8
LUCK: 3
DEFENSE: 11
RESISTANCE: 2
STATUS: Wary
I expected nothing less from Frederick the Wary. His first and foremost concerns were the safety and protection of the Ylissean royal family. Even now, I could tell he was devising a myriad of ways to separate Chrom from me at the drop of a hat should I turn hostile.
"Can I help you?" I asked the young prince, who was caught off guard by my abrupt exit.
Chrom blinked thrice before awkwardly lowering his hand (he'd been preparing to knock), clearing his throat, and bowing. "Thank you for protecting Emm today!"
"No problem. Is that all?" I asked. Sorry kid, but I was in a hurry.
"W-Well, no …" the prince needed a second to adjust to my cavalier attitude, "… are you leaving? So soon? Surely you could rest here for a single night? Emm would be more than happy to host you!"
I shook my head. "I'm needed elsewhere."
"Does your urgency pertain to a matter of great importance?" Frederick asked.
Keeping the Fierce Deity's Mask out of evil hands?
"Deathly," I confirmed.
Frederick observed me for a moment before nodding. "Then milord and I shall not keep you. Safe travels, Guardian."
I was mildly surprised with the ease at which Frederick the Wary was letting me leave. I think he wanted me, an unknown, out of the capitol as soon as possible; worked for me.
"Thank you," I replied, preparing to dash down the hallway, only for young Chrom to leap in my way, arms outstretched.
"Milord?" Frederick asked, as puzzled as I by his liege's actions.
"I understand you've places to be," Chrom began, nervously at first, but gathered courage along the way, "but … but there's a matter I wish to seek your counsel on!"
I wanted to bury my face in my hands in frustration. First Emmeryn, and now Chrom? What was it with Ylissean royalty needing life advise from their country's homeless transmigrator? I searched the hallways for Lissa, the youngest princess, worrying she might be stalking the halls for my guidance.
No sign of her. At least there's that.
"I don't think I'm the best person you could be coming to for advice," I said.
Chrom shook his head. "I can hardly name someone worthier than the Guardian of the Halidom."
Damn that stupid nickname. Who even came up with it, anyways? I swear, if I ever found said individual I'd treat them to a throttling.
Resigning myself, I asked, "What do you need?"
The Prince of Ylisse fidgeted on his feet before mustering up the will to ask, "I just don't understand. Emm … she's given her all for Ylisse, sacrificed so much. Anyone who knows her should realize she loves this country from the bottom of her heart and more, and yet …" his hands balled into angry fists "… yet all it took were a few Plegian snakes and their fork-tongued to turn our people against her! It doesn't make any sense! How could any sane Ylissean believe their lies?!"
Because those Plegians were spies and well versed in the arts of sabotage?
Instead, I grunted, "Because sometimes people act like sheep."
Harsh of me? Maybe, but I had places to be and no patience for mincing words.
"Sheep?" Chrom repeated, bewildered. Even Frederick was waiting for me to expand on my response.
"Ever heard the saying 'a person is smart, but people are dumb'? When you get a bunch of people together, sometimes they'll act like dumb, panicky animals. They'll listen to the loudest voice, and start bleating the same lies until it's all they know," I said plainly. "Works best when they're scared, and need something or someone to blame. After the night of the Omen, Plegia took advantage of Ylisse's fears, steering them in the direction the Mad King wanted."
Noticing how troubled young Chrom was, I awkwardly scratched the back of my head.
"Might not've been what you wanted to hear, but it's the only answer I've got for you." I stepped around the prince, then placed a firm hand on his trembling shoulder. "Look after your sister," I said, snapping Chrom out of his fugue. "There's no telling what sort of drastic actions Plegia'll take after this setback."
The mere notion of a threat to Emmeryn's safety was more than enough to inject raw determination into Chrom's veins. "Emm's spent her entire life protecting us and Ylisse. It's high time I returned the favor!"
"Good lad," I approved. Glancing at Frederick, I tilted my head and said, "Frederick."
The knight returned the gesture. "Guardian."
With nothing more to say, I Reinforced myself to my current limit and raced out of the castle in a flash.
~
Chrom gawked as the Guardian of the Halidom disappeared in a superhuman display of speed. Had he used magic? Couldn't be. None of the magicians he knew were capable of such a feat, and he was familiar with Ylisse's best.
Yet even as the Guardian vanished, his words did not.
[Because sometimes people act like sheep.]
Despite how … degrading those words were towards the people of Ylisse, the men, women, and children Emm constantly fought and suffered for, Chrom couldn't find it within himself to contest it. Emm laid out everything for their halidom, yet all it took to turn them against her were the lies of an enemy kingdom.
It sickened Chrom to know how fickle Ylissean loyal was.
Thankfully, news of today would doubtlessly spread across every corner of Ylisse in a matter of weeks, purging the snakes from their flock. But what was stopping Plegia for engaging in their disgraceful ways once more? As powerful as the Guardian was he was still only a lone protector, which was why it took him so long to deduce Ylisse's true and sorry state of affairs.
That's when it hit Chrom: he knew what he had—what he was going—to do. The people of Ylisse needed someone to ensure they were never led astray again. If they chose to act like sheep, then what they needed was a Shepard.
~
Shooting across the vast plains of Ylisse, I immediately realized something was wrong. The Traced Levin Sword I'd given Robin, the one she never went anywhere without, was nowhere near its previous location. This meant Robin and Morgan must've abandoned their previous place of residence in a hurry.
Fear nearly halted my breathing, forcibly conjuring worst-case scenarios. Did the Grimleal uncover their whereabouts? Had Validar found his wayward wife and child, and was now dragging back to Plegia?
The mere thought made me pump my arms and legs faster as I tore across the grassy fields, unearthing clumps of soil with every frantic step I took.
I couldn't lose a friend again.
[Chelsea]
I REFUSE to lose a friend again!
If Validar or his Grimleal really were here, they were dead! There'd be no talking, no monologuing, no exchange of witty quips. The instant those bastards were in my sight, I'd rip their still-beating hearts out with my bare hands, decapitate them all with an axe, then set their corpses on fire just because I could.
Be safe, Robin! Please, be safe!
When I was nearly on top of Robin's location, I burst into a small meadow obscured by a handful of trees and neighboring a trickling stream. With my nerves on high alert, I reduced my [Reinforcement] just enough to Project Khan Flavia's personal weapon: her silver greatsword, Arbiter.
But there wasn't a single Grimleal in sight; not even their head honcho.
Instead, I found Robin (alone and unmolested) resting her head against a bag of supplies while she tightly clutched my Levin Sword and Fierce Deity Mask against her chest, holding them like they were her only lifeline. She was dirty, disheveled; looking like she'd been on the run for a day or two.
And entirely alone. Morgan was nowhere in sight.
Startled by my abrupt arrival, Robin scrambled upright. It was then I saw her eyes were puffy and red; she'd been crying, hard. Even so, they practically lit up when she saw me.
"G-Guardian!" Her voice was scratchy, like she'd shouted herself hoarse.
I took a second to search our immediate vicinity; no hostiles. I also scanned Robin with [Structural Analysis]; she was uninjured, though her status showed her emotions were in utter turmoil.
Where was Morgan? Had the two of them been ambushed, and only Robin escaped unscathed?
"Are you alright?" I asked, desperate for answers while also keeping one eye on our surroundings. If someone leapt at us from the shadows, they were getting bisected.
Robin shrunk in on her herself. "Ah … funny story that." Her chosen tone told me there was nothing funny about it. "I think … I sort of … might have run away … from home."
I needed a full minute to process what I'd heard.
Although, as the ever-eloquent Guardian of the Halidom, my incredibly mature response was easily boiled down to a single word.
"Whut?"
~
[Immediately after the Guardian's departure …]
The instant the Guardian sped away, her mother ripped the dead god's mask from Robin's startled hands and threw it as far as her arms could manage.
"Mother! What're you doing?" Robin demanded, scrambling to her feet.
Her mother didn't respond, not when she was breathing so hard she was rapidly approaching hyperventilation. She grabbed the spell tome hanging from her waist and began hysterically bombarding the deity's mask with a barrage of dark magic, echoing blasts that boomed throughout the meadow.
Robin was baffled by her mother's incomprehensible actions, but was far more dismayed witnessing her destroy the Guardian's property.
"Stop!" Robin grabbed her mother's casting arm, canceling her next spell. "Stop this, mother! What do you think you're doing?!"
When she saw her mother's eyes, their was a maniacal anger burning within them. "He lied to us! That dung-shoveling bastard lied to us!" Her mother ranted with undistilled virulence. Then her near-psychotic glare latched onto the Projected Levin Sword Robin always carried with her, and her madness intensified. "That! Get rid of that! Throw it away! Destroy it!"
Her mother reached for the Levin Sword, until Robin hastily shoved her away.
"Mother, stop! Explain yourself!" Robin shouted, hoping she didn't sound as terrified as she felt. She didn't know what was happening, but it scared her.
But her mother refused to make sense, her bulbous eyes darting from shadow to shadow, searching for that which wasn't there. "Pack everything, girl! We need to leave, now! We're running, before that lying bastard returns!"
Robin realized the "bastard" Morgan kept referring to was the Guardian.
"Don't!" she screamed, furious on her friend's behalf. "Don't you dare speak to him that way! The Guardian's—!"
"—a two-faced wretch who serves your father!"
Whatever Robin was expecting, it wasn't that. Her father? She knew nothing about the man her mother married, as Morgan crushed any inquiries with an iron fist. Yet now, all of a sudden, the Guardian of the Halidom was working for him?
Morgan didn't explain, instead scrambling for their home like a woman possessed. Robin sluggishly followed her, mind muddled by these inexplicable events. Inside, her mother was tearing the place apart, cramming their essentials into travel bags.
"Why are you just standing there?!" Morgan snapped, almost unhinged. "Pack your belongings this instant, girl!"
"No."
Morgan's whole body locked up, before her neck gradually craned her head until it was focusing solely on Robin.
"No?"
"No," Robin repeated, mustering her nerve. "I don't care what you think you know, but the Guardian is my friend! If you think he's something he's not, I deserve to know what—"
"Friend? FRIEND?!" Morgan practically teleported in front of Robin with how fast she moved, digging her fingers into Robin's shoulders (hard enough to draw blood) and shaking her without restraint. "That reprobate is nothing but a lie! His whole existence is a lie, a falsehood concocted by the Grimleal? Guardian of the Halidom? No such protector would carry a fragment of the Fell Dragon!"
"F-Fell Dragon?" Robin gasped, struggling to free herself from Morgan's frenzied grip. Did she speak of Grima, the evil dragon felled by the First Exalt over a thousand years ago?
Morgan wildly jabbed a finger at the crater where the deity's mask had been subjected to a barrage of dark spells. "A fallen god whose might blackens the sky! Wielding strength to flatten mountains! What else could it be but the Fell Dragon itself?! That man is no hero … he is of the Grimleal! He serves your father, their Hierophant! When he returns, he'll drag us to Plegia, present you to Validar, and you'll … you'll …!" The madness bursting for Morgan was briefly dammed, letting something else trickle forth: unending grief, followed by pure desperation. "… I … can't lose you too, Robin."
It hurt. Not only physically, but emotionally. Robin had never seen her mother, the eternally stern woman who raised her, break down like this. It twisted her heart into painful knots.
Yet Morgan's weakness was also revealing information Robin never knew before. Her father's name was Validar, and he was the Hierophant of the Grimleal. But why were they hiding from such a powerful man?
She wanted—needed—to know!
"Mother," Robin whispered, cupping her mother hands, overlooking the fresh blood dripping from Morgan's fingernails. "Please, tell me what's wrong. Why are you so afraid of my father?"
Only for Morgan to clam up, retreating behind her shell of paranoia. "You mustn't know. He is a danger to you and me, and that's all that matters."
"No, it isn't!" Robin cried. She was sick of the secrets, those very same secrets condemning her to this sequestered way of life. The Guardian and his tales gave her a glimpse of all she was missing, and every day since was slowly killing her. "We're constantly on the run, living like vagrants instead of people! Please, you're always telling me that forewarned is forearmed! If this knowledge endangers us both, should I not know of it?"
Her mother wavered, but refused to break. "You're being childish, girl. Divest yourself from these meaningless thoughts! I've been protecting you all my life, since the day you and … since the day you were born! I know what's best for you! So cease your pointless questions and DO AS I SAY!"
Robin recoil like she'd been struck. Any other day, and Morgan's commanding tone would've spurred her into automatically following her orders.
But not today.
"No." Robin's declaration hit Morgan with a war hammer's force. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what I want to know."
Morgan reeled, having never expected Robin to continue defying her. Silence thickened the tension between them, until her mother cracked the smallest of smiles. For an instant, Robin was hopeful.
"You've grown up," her mother whispered …
… right before blasting Robin in the stomach with a dark spell, sending her tumbling several yards before she hit the grass and skid to a painful stop. Robin convulsed, struggling to draw in air. She felt like the Guardian had kicked her in the stomach, without holding back. On top of that, a dark curse was slowly propagating throughout her body, sapping her stamina and forcibly making her eyelids heavy.
"I'm so sorry, Robin," she heard Morgan say with indisputable sorrow. Robin tried to stand, but her limbs lacked strength. She tried to breathe, but her lungs refused to work. All she could do was curl into a ball of pain as Morgan regretfully approached her. "But we do not have time for this. Please, sleep."
The tome in her hand flipped open as she channeled magic, conjuring a fog of darkness from her open hand. The roiling smoke poured across the meadow, wilting all the greenery it came in contact with. It lurched towards Robin at a sloth's pace, but once it encompassed her she could feel its mortal grip consuming her stamina.
Her vision grew spotty as the world slowly blackened.
But it wasn't just unconsciousness marring her sight; there were tear as well.
Why? Why was any of this happening?
Robin didn't understand.
She only wanted answers.
Why didn't her mother trust her with the truth?
What could possess her to take matters this far?
It was all too much.
She just wanted it all to stop.
Please, just make it stop!
"STOOOPPPPP!!!!!"
She screamed, tense enough to tear the inside of her throat, and channeling every bleak and tumultuous emotion she'd been burying deep within for the past few years.
She could've never noticed her onyx pupils briefly flashing into a scalding magenta.
She never noticed the birthmark on her right hand pulse as it fed off her negative feelings.
But it was impossible to miss the explosion of power she released, generating an unrelenting blast with her at the epicenter. It shredded Morgan's curse like it was nothing more than a stray cobweb, before colliding into Morgan like a runaway carriage and sending her hurtling through the wall of their home with a CRASH.
It took a while longer, but Robin's sight steadily sharpened as air and vitality crept back into her. The world regained sound, allowing her to hear her own sobs. Where did that come from? It wasn't any spell Robin knew, nor one her mother taught her.
… her mother!
"Moth—!" Robin choked on her throbbing throat, feeling blood trickle past her lips. She still staggered to her feet, shambling towards the home they'd built together with the Guardian.
Her mother lied amongst the debris, splinters of varying size dotting her body. From the rhythmic rising and falling of her chest, she was merely unconscious.
Even so, Robin had done this; intentional or not.
She didn't know what to do next. Her mind raced, searching for a solution. However, one thing was certain: she couldn't stay here, not when there was a chance Morgan would attack her again.
But where would she go? She knew nothing about Ylisse, save for the stories and adventures the Guardian shared with her.
The Guardian!
Robin's hand subconsciously tightened around her Levin Sword's hilt. She'd find her friend, or at least wait until he doubtlessly tracked her down again. Right now, more than anything else, she needed a sympathetic shoulder.
So she scrambled through the wreckage of her home, scrounging for usable supplies and stuffing them into a leather bag before fleeing as fast as her trembling legs could take her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted the lifeless crater where the remains of the Guardian's forgotten mask surely lingered. Yet when she checked, Robin was astonished to discover the deity's mask hadn't suffered a single blemish, despite Morgan's best efforts.
She crammed it into her bag without a second thought, and fled into the night without looking back.
~
"—and that's what happened," Robin concluded hoarsely. "Once I couldn't run anymore, I just … just waited. Waited for you to show up, I guess."
… I needed a drink.
Once again, the Fierce Deity's Mask had thrown cannon on its head, causing Morgan's rampant paranoia to arrive at the worst possible conclusion about its origins and ruining her relationship with her daughter. First Emmeryn, and now this! I was seriously regretting the day the damn thing entered my life.
I breathed in.
I breathed out.
No, I was being dumb. The Fierce Deity's Mask might've caused one hell of a misunderstanding with Morgan, but I was the Grade-A moron who babbled about it and left it behind with the paranoid Plegian. I should've known better. Before I idiotically forgot, I shoved the Fierce Deity's Mask into my new Inventory, where it would hopefully remain protected and forgotten.
Robin blinked confusedly when she saw the mask vanish, then shrugged it off and asked, "Guardian, about that mask …"
"I can't tell you its exact origins, since I don't know myself, but I swear to you," I said solemnly, "the Fierce Deity's Mask has absolutely no relation with the Fell Dragon."
After several seconds, Robin said, "Okay, I trust you."
Still, a part of Robin's recollection stood out to me. She fended off Morgan's curse with a burst of her own magic? Without a tome? I didn't even know that was possible. I thought all magic required a tome, or was I constraining myself by putting too much stock Fire Emblem's game mechanics?
"What'll you do now?" I asked.
Robin shuffled anxiously. "I … don't know. My first thought was to wait for you to find me. Maybe … travel with you? I mean, if you don't want me to I can—"
I placed a hand on Robin's trembling shouldering, cutting off her babbling. "I don't mind at all."
Robin nearly collapsed from utter relief; it seemed like she didn't really have a Plan B if I'd rejected her. Sure, I turned down Lon'qu years ago, but I wasn't in the best headspace at the time to look after him. Besides, I knew he'd thrive under Basilio's tutelage. Robin, on the other hand, wasn't some random kid; she was my friend. On top of that, she didn't have anyone else besides me and Morgan. While I'd no doubt she'd find a way to thrive on her own, Ylisse was current hosting an untold number of Plegian spies, and if any of them accidentally stumbled across Robin and reported her location to the Grimleal … bad times all around.
Still, "What about you mother?"
"What about her?" Robin said curtly.
I sighed. "Are you alright with leave things the way they are?"
"Of course I'm not!" Robin argued, eyes watering with fresh tears. Oh God, what was with today and me making women cry? "But Morgan … my mother, refuses to tell me anything! Today was the most I ever learned about my father, and only because she was in a state of distress!"
I mulled over my options. Thanks to my game knowledge, I knew Morgan's secret: about why the Grimleal wanted Robin. But if I told her, how would I explain where I'd gotten my information from? Besides, I felt it'd be much more meaningful if Robin heard these answers from Morgan's mouth rather than mine.
The question was: how was I going to accomplish that?
Then the SYSTEM chose this moment to shove a message in my face.
[Please select your second gift from the Legend of Zelda franchise.]
I wanted to berate the damned SYSTEM, tell it this really wasn't the time …
… until a light clicked on in my head.
"Robin, do you still want to know the truth?"
She nodded. "I … I do."
"Then I have an idea."
~
I found my way back to the clearing Robin and Morgan had made their temporary abode. The air was thick with dark magic, making it troubling to breathe. Not to mention the wide expanse of dead and rotting soil, where the negative energies had permanently poisoned the land.
I heard the clatter of debris coming from the ruins of the house. I approached, not bothering to quiet my steps, until I saw the cause of the noise.
Morgan. She was covered in dried blood, but I didn't see any noticeable injuries. I'm guessing she healed what she could with a stave, but didn't bother to clean herself up afterwards. Hell, she'd definitely seen better days. She was shambling about like a zombie, eyes listless as she raised her head and saw me.
I didn't find a hint of emotion in those glassy orbs.
"… you." Gods, a cadaver would sound livelier than her.
Still, I stuck to the script. "Morgan. What happened?"
She didn't reply. Instead, her head slowly craned left and right, like she was searching for someone else: Robin. There was no point, as there wasn't anyone else in plain sight. Morgan realized this, and slipped further into depression.
"Are you Grimleal?" she asked.
"No."
She said nothing else. I could tell her psyche was precariously close to a catastrophic collapse. One wrong word, and BOOM. So I waited, patiently, all while Morgan continued to shuffle and dig through the remains of her collapsing home, searching.
Minutes passed.
An hour.
The sun began to set, heralding the coming of twilight.
All the while, I remained stock-still, while Morgan rummaged through her home's remains even as her nails chipped and splinters pierced her fingers.
"It's so obvious in hindsight," she murmured, eyes never wandering from her work as she dug into the floorboards. "Were you Grimleal, Validar would've recaptured my daughter and I years ago. Truly, fear has made a fool of me."
I kept quiet, wondering if now would be a good time to—
"… I was born Morgan Caitir Nirvid," Morgan suddenly began. "Born to the prestigious Nirvid Family, one of the six great noble houses of Plegia. Even with the previous Exalt of Ylisse tearing apart our country and watering our barren lands with the blood of my countrymen, I wanted for nothing. I was fed not with a silver spoon, but a gold one; encrusted with rubies and emeralds. When the war ended, King Gangrel butchered his way to the Plegian throne with the aid of the Grimleal, worshippers of the Fell Dragon, Grima.
"I cared little. Regardless of who sat on the throne, I continued to sleep on satin sheets, ate the finest Plegian cuisines, and had a legion of servants waiting on my every whim. The matters of the court were handled by my parents, while I was the princess they loved, pampered, and sheltered from the world."
Morgan turned over a loose floor plank with her bloody hands, revealing a hidden stash of items: weapons, staves, tomes, and vulneraries, likely saved in the event of an emergency.
"It was later that I met him: Validar, cult leader of the Grimleal," Morgan continued as she reached into the hidden compartment, searching for something specific. "He was charming, eloquent, and filled my childish mind with empty words promising a future of untold extravagances. Like a fool, I agreed to grant him whatever he desired so long as he made my petty wishes a reality. His wants were simple: my hand in marriage, and my womb for siring his children."
"Did you love him?" I asked.
Morgan was quiet for a handful of seconds. "I was infatuated; not with the man himself, but the future of indulgences he wove for me. We were wed a week later, for my parents saw no reason to deny my binding with the Hierophant of the Grimleal. Not only did I beg for it, but I was promising myself to he who served as King Gangrel's advisor and right hand. It was a substantial political boon for the Nirvid Family. I was pregnant soon after, and swimming in delusions of grandeur all the while. I …" Morgan's tone hitched, "… I cared nothing for the child growing inside me. To me, they were nothing but a necessary tool I required to achieve my selfish desires. Not once did I feel the need to question why Validar sought me out specifically to birth his heirs, too lost in my fantasies of good fortune.
"But that all changed the day my greatest treasures were born." Morgan became forlorn, lost in her memories. "For me, whose greatest injury back then was a stubbed toe, the pain of childbirth was … indescribable. I remember cursing Validar for sticking his prick in me, cursing my unborn children for the agony they were causing, and cursing myself for ever going along with this miserable idea. Yet when they were born"—a lone tear trickled down Morgan's gaunt cheeks—"all of that disappeared. When I held my babies for the first time … those precious little blessings I'd toiled and brought into this world … suddenly, suddenly it was all worth it. I then understood why my parents loved and lavished me so, for I wished nothing more but to do the same for my newborn children."
While I didn't want to interrupt, there was something Morgan said I couldn't ignore.
"Babies?" I asked hoarsely.
Morgan nodded solemnly. "Robin … and her younger twin brother, brought into this world mere minutes after her."
One of the cabin walls suddenly collapsed on its own, as if pushed over by an unseen force. Morgan's tear-filled eyes locked onto it, but there was no one to be seen.
I, on the other hand, was wrangling with the idea that male-Robin existed at some point in time. But if so, where was he now?
I felt like I already knew the answer, and didn't like it one bit.
Seeing we were still alone, Morgan continued. "Validar was there, to witness their birth. Yet the moment he saw them, I could taste his disappointment. He kept muttering 'So close, we were so close.' I didn't know what he was talking about; didn't care. For the first time in my selfish life, I loved something more than my myself, and more than the shallow future promised to me.
"Then he took them; he took my babies away from me," Morgan seethed, her simmering rage bubbling forth. "He tore my babies from my arms, informed me a matter of dire importance had arisen, and left me alone with a handmaiden. I screamed, yelled, shouted, demanded answers. The handmaiden assigned to me was a fanatical member of the Grimleal, and was deliriously happy to answer whatever I asked. That's when I learned how the promises Validar made to me … were nothing but empty lies."
She looked to me. "What do you know of the Fell Dragon?"
"A giant evil dragon, slain a millennium ago."
"A rough understanding, but not an inaccurate one. The Grimleal are a cult that worship the Fell Dragon as the God of Annihilation. Their greatest ambition is its resurrection, but in order to do so they require a Vessel: a worthy container capable of accepting Grima's subconscious. Validar himself is a failed Vessel, the Grimleal's latest failed attempt to resurrect their god. The Fell Blood running in his black veins was not potent enough. Thus he purposely sought me out, someone who unknowingly possessed Fell Blood, hoping that a child born in a union between us would bear the Heart of Grima the Grimleal have so fervently desired. Though they were close, closer than the Grimleal ever managed before, my children were still but a margin away from being suitable Vessels. That was until"—Morgan clenched her bloody hands into fists—"until Validar had an … an epiphany. Grima required but one Vessel, while I bore two children. Thus Validar … he … he chose to prepare a vile ritual, one that would sacrifice one of my babies in exchange for strengthening the bloodline of the other." Morgan gnashed her teeth until her gums bleed. "He hoped that their relationship as twins would allow the receiver to survive the otherwise fatal process, and if not … if not, he could always use me, his breeding sow, to produce more progeny.
"I nearly went mad with anger when I was told. The handmaid, the dumb cow, had the gall to be confused. She thought I was a pathetically loyal Grimleal such as herself, and believed I should've been proud my children were chosen for such an 'honor'. I showed the bitch exactly how proud I was by bludgeoning her to death with her own stave. I healed myself with what paltry skills I had, and made my way to the Grimleal's main temple as fast as my feet could carry me. But I … I …" Morgan seemed to age another decade "… I was too late. I arrive only in time to see Validar plunge a dagger into my baby boy's chest, and then bathe my daughter in the blood he collected."
That … was some fucked up shit. As nauseous as I felt, I couldn't begin to imagine what Morgan must've gone through, seeing this all happen firsthand.
"That's … that's when I felt it," Morgan soullessly continued. "The temple darkened as if blanketed by ruin, and my very soul felt as if it were being strangled by raw malevolence. I knew immediately it was the presence of the Fell Dragon. Then, as my … my son breathed his last … the Heart of Grima appeared on my crying daughter's hand, the very mark she always mistakes for a mere birthmark. With its appearance, Validar and the Grimleal had finally achieved their goal centuries in the making: they'd created the perfect Vessel for the Fell Dragon.
"I refused to be a part of their madness any longer. I'd just lost my son, less than an hour after he was born, so I vowed then and there to protect my daughter. As Validar left to announce this news to his faithful, I killed my daughter's minders and whisked her away. I wanted … I wanted to take my son's body with me, so he couldn't be desecrated further, but I was already weak from childbirth; he was a burden I couldn't summon the strength to carry. So I took my daughter and left Plegia, the only home I'd known, with nothing but a single stave and the clothes on my back."
"You didn't ask your parents for help?" I asked.
"To what end? The Grimleal are far too entrenched in Plegian affairs, especially with Validar whispering in King Gangrel's ear. One word from him would be all it would take for the noble house of Nirvid to be wiped away like summer leaves." Morgan laugh contemptuously at herself. "The first few years were the most harrowing. I'd gone from a spoiled princess to a homeless beggar jumping at every shadow, hearing the Grimleal's loyal dogs ceaselessly nipping at my heels in my nightmares. There were so many things tearing me down: the pain of starvation, the cold of sleeping exposed to the elements, the stench of unwashed poverty. I could trust nobody, not when doing so nearly exposed my daughter and I to the Grimleal the first time. There were times, so many times, when I simply wanted everything to … to end. Yet I couldn't, not when my baby was relying on me … me. Every time I approached the edge of breaking, I'd remember what I was suffering for … and that kept me going for another day.
"That is why I've hidden my daughter from the world, training her to be able to protect herself. Because she is the Fell Dragon reborn, destined to bring doom and ruin to the world. Were this news to reach Ylissean or Feroxi ears, she would be hunted and hanged for the crime of being born. Should the Grimleal and their Plegian puppets discover her, they'll finish what they started and complete the full revival of the Fell Dragon. My daughter … my Robin …"
Morgan finally found what she was looking for in the hidden compartment; a small sketch, likely done by a street vendor years ago. Peaking over her shoulder, I saw it was a drawing of Morgan and a smiling baby: Robin. Because of their life on the run, this was likely the only picture Morgan had of her daughter.
Then I heard the sound of frantically retreating feet. Alarmed, I turned and saw the imprint of feet distorting the dead grass, rapidly getting farther away.
She was running! Why?!
I gave chase, knowing if she went too far I might actually lose her.
"G-Guardian! Wait! Please don't k—!" Morgan desperately cried behind me, but I'd already left before I could hear the rest of what she had to say.
I pursued my quarry for nearly an hour. While I was faster, I was unable to see her, forcing me to backtrack and reorient myself several times over. Luckily, she'd forgotten she was still carrying my Traced Levin Sword and hadn't abandoned it yet, letting me narrow in on her location.
Finally, I got close enough. I reached out and grabbed the space before me—
—and Robin materialized in my grip. The mask she was wearing, fashioned to be as plain as the most common of rocks and adorned with a mismatched set of eyeholes, couldn't conceal her once contact was made.
It was the second gift I'd asked from the SYSTEM.
[Stone Mask, Rank: B]
A mask said to make its wearer as "plain as a stone." The magic imbued within it accomplishes this by reducing the presence of the wearer until outside perception is subconsciously drawn away from them. However, those with sufficient SKILL can pierce through the mask's filter and find its wearer.
Durability: 50/50
Magic Cost: 3
[<Stone Mask, Rank: B> has been added to the SYSTEM's Catalogue!]
Yet the moment I caught her, Robin struggled and thrashed like a terrified animal, going so far as to try and scratch my Keaton Mask as she screamed.
"Robin! Stop!" I shouted, holding her by her shoulders. "What's wrong? Why did you run?"
She didn't respond. Instead, I could feel her trembling violently in my hands. If I hadn't been holding her, she would've fallen over. Unable to read her face because of the Stone Mask, I placed my hand over it and commanded it to un-equip, sending it into my Inventory.
Giving me a front row seat to Robin's unadulterated fear.
Of me.
I was seriously confused, wanting to know what the hell was going on. "Robin, what—"
"P-P-Please," Robin stammered, practically begged, in a voice so shattered it hurt to hear, "G-Guardian … p-please … don't … don't kill me."
My mind was awhirl. WHAT? Why in the ninth circle of Hell would I do something like that?
Then it hit me: I'd made a terrible, terrible mistake.
I'd thought the truth would be good for Robin. In the game, the Shepard's tactician learned she was Grima, moved on, and then helped her comrades end the Fell Dragon a few chapters later. Happy ending for everyone. But that Robin was tempered by loss, hardened by war, and supported by allies and comrades who would all give their lives for one another.
This Robin was not. She was a scared, lonely young woman who'd just been attacked by her own mother for reasons she didn't understand. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she was at the lowest point in her life.
And then she learned the cruel fate of the brother she never knew.
Learned the hardships her mother endured entirely for her sake.
Learned she was the Fell Dragon reborn; the monster children feared in the shadows; the abomination that desired to snuff out all life in the world.
And I was the Guardian of the Halidom, the "hero" who protected people from monsters.
It was the obvious conclusion to come to …
… for everyone except me.
I'd been too reliant on in-game knowledge, and my friend paid the price.
Words could never describe my self-loathing.
So I acted. I pulled Robin in and embraced her, held her close. She flailed for a good moment, worried I was attempting to suffocate her, until she felt me rub soft circles into her back.
I didn't know what else to do.
I didn't know how I was going to fix this.
All I could do for now, was repeat the same words she'd given me.
"It's going to be alright," I whispered in her ear, "everything's going to be alright."
I could say nothing else that would ease her pain. I merely held her tight, letting her know I was still her friend, that I would be there for her.
I felt Robin's quivering hands squeeze my jerkin before she broke down into long, agonized sobs of loss, confusion, and grief.
~Current Stats~
NAME: ???
AGE: 19
CLASS: ???
LEVEL: 10 (+1)
EXP: 7 / 100
HIT POINTS: 34 / 34 (+1)
STRENGTH:19 (+1)
MAGIC: 12 (-1, Projection)
SKILL: 15
SPEED: 14 (+1)
LUCK: 0
DEFENSE: 13
RESISTANCE: 16 (+1)
~Current Skills~
PERSONAL SKILL 1: Projection, Trace Version
PERSONAL SKILL 2: Inventory of the Wild Hero (NEW!)
PERSONAL SKILL 3: N/A
SKILL 1: Too Angry To Die!
SKILL 2: Reinforcement
SKILL 3: Poison Immunity
SKILL 4: N/A
SKILL 5: N/A
