Chapter 8, Wandering
I held Robin until the stress and exhaustion inevitably cut her strings, and she fell into a harried unconsciousness. I didn't want to move her, and we were in a relatively quiet patch of woods, so I carefully set her down before draping her in a set of linen blankets I pulled from my Inventory. I hacked off a few branches from nearby trees with a Traced axe, got a campfire going, and stared blankly into the flames, barely feeling their warmth.
I felt like such a piece of shit.
~
I offered to lead Robin back to her mother, but she refused; vehemently. I didn't need [Structural Analysis] to see the guilt and self-loathing viciously eating away at her. Robin blamed herself not only for hurting her mother, but forcing Morgan into a life of hardship by being born. She was too ashamed, wracked by too much guilt, to bear facing her mother. I wanted to point out that none of that would ever stop Morgan from loving her, but Robin's emotions were still too raw from yesterday.
Not wanting to pressure her further, I dropped it.
However, that didn't stop me from visiting Morgan the following night. She nearly tackled me on sight, hysterically demanding to know if I'd slain her child. Apparently, she'd leapt to the same conclusion Robin had: that the Guardian of the Halidom would execute a world-ending threat to the kingdom. I promised Morgan that Robin was alive and well, and that I'd never (knowingly) harm a friend like that. It took a fair bit of convincing before she believed me.
Then I explained how Robin had been eavesdropping on us earlier, and that she knew she was the Fell Dragon born.
Morgan punched me in the mask. I wished it hurt more than it did. Her bloodshot eyes were doing their best to atomize me, before she suffered a resigned sigh. "I do not like you, Guardian, and I've never made my distaste a secret. I've tolerated your presence, but only for my child's sake."
"I know."
"But do you know why I dislike you so? Not merely because I feared your non-existent allegiance to the Grimleal. It's because … you made my Robin happy. She always smiled more during your visits, and became much more dour in your absence. That … I didn't know how much it hurt my pride as her mother until now. Yes, I was doing everything in my limited power to protect her, to keep her safe, but you … you were the one who gave her happiness. I suppose my personal aversion towards you fed my rampant fears. When you spoke of your"—she gnawed on the words a bit—"deific mask, a part of me saw it as an opportunity, an excuse, to excise you from our lives. It was petty and selfish of me."
Huh, I hadn't known she'd felt that way.
"Do you want to see your daughter?" I asked.
"With all my heart, Guardian."
So I lent Morgan my Stone Mask (she was fascinated by its magical properties, wishing she'd come across such an artifact years ago), and led her to Robin. Seeing her daughter with her own two eyes flooded Morgan with relief, as she hadn't fully trusted my word alone.
But she didn't reveal herself to Robin, claiming she'd made a terrible mistake earlier. It seemed both mother and daughter were desperate to give each other room to breathe.
Back at her crumbling home, Morgan returned my Stone Mask and said, "Promise me … promise me you'll keep her safe, Guardian."
"With everything I have," I swore.
~
I want to say wandering Ylisse with a buddy was fun, but I'd be lying. Because of how quiet Robin was, it was almost no different from traveling by myself. She didn't talk, barely ate, and I often caught her staring at the Levin Sword I gave her as if she were wondering how painful it would be to ram its blade through her heart. Gods, was this how Robin felt when she was trying to interact with me when we first met? If so, kudos to her.
But I was willing to wait. After all, my friend was dealing with the shitty hand life had dealt her. It couldn't be easy, learning you're secretly an ancient evil destined to destroy the world. Plus, I fully admitted her condition was a result of my dumbassery. Sure, she wanted to learn the truth, but there were so many better ways to drop such Earth-shattering revelations.
~
I made another mistake.
Damn it, me! Can't you do anything right?
Robin spoke to me—the first time in two weeks—asking if she could see my Stone Mask. I was so happy she was talking again that I gave it to her without hesitation. I only understood my screw up when she wordlessly put it on and vanished from view.
I panicked for a handful of seconds, fearing she was trying to run again. The signal from her Levin Sword hadn't moved, but that might mean she'd chosen to ditch the Projection. Recalling the Stone Mask's information, and how anyone with a certain amount of skill could see through its perception filter, I boosted myself with [Reinforcement] until my skill hit 25.
Robin popped into view. She was still wearing the Stone Mask, and hadn't moved an inch from where she sat. She merely continued to curl into herself, hugging her legs against her chest while her head stay buried in her knees. She wanted the mask so she could better disappear from the world.
That couldn't be healthy for her mentality.
I should've talked to her, should've said something. Perhaps taken the mask by force. But I didn't, because I was so worried I'd only be hurting her more.
I wasn't a trained psychiatrist! I'd no idea what the right thing to do was!
So with a new slump in my shoulders, I got dinner ready. At least she was eating a bit more these days.
~
After another two weeks, Robin was showing a bit of improvement. She asked to resume our sword lessons, and I was more than happy to oblige. I can't really say I'm a qualified instructor, as I was only teaching her the stuff that usually worked for me. Still, I could feel the desperation Robin put into every swing, ringing up my arm and through my soul each time our swords connected. She kept going and going until she pushed herself past the brink of exhaustion and collapsed. I healed her with a Traced stave, only for Robin to demand another round.
We fought until the sun sank, the moon rose, and the sun peeked over the horizon once more.
~
I was in a quaint place called Southtown, a bustling Ylissean city with a wide channel of fresh water built to run through its middle. Robin was showing interest in her old hobbies, so I'd come here to buy her a few books; preferably anything and everything I could get my hands on. I'm sure I'd find space for it all in my Inventory.
When I asked if Robin wanted to come with me, she immediately shot me down. Now that she knew the Grimleal were after her, she was keeping her contact with other people to the absolute minimum. It was like she'd adopted her mother's paranoia. Hell, it'd gotten to the point where she refused to take off my Stone Mask, even when she was completely alone. I pointed out no one could see her while she wore the mask, but she still didn't want to risk the slim possibility of being seen.
I respected her wishes, no matter how much I didn't like them.
As I walked through the cobbled streets, townsfolk would drop what they were doing to gape at me. My Keaton Mask, which should've been my disguise, was now my most recognizable aspect. A crowd began to gather, mostly well-wishers and folks I'd helped out before. Nothing big: restored a tool here, some free healing there, stuff like that.
I also didn't forget to checked each and every person I came across with [Structural Analysis]. Now that I knew Plegia was sneaking spies into Ylisse, I'd be an idiot not to be cautious.
Lo and behold, the woman shaking my hand right now—pretending to be a simple peddler—was a Plegian spy. Codename: Scorpion-6. As if sensing her ruse was up, the Plegian ripped a hidden dagger out from within her long sleeve and thrust it towards my heart.
I entered Bullet Time, and watched the blade draw towards me in slow motion. After leisurely choosing my plan of attack, I grabbed the assassin's offending arm—halting her offense—snapped it over my knee, punched her in the throat, before lifting her up and slamming her against the street.
[+5 EXP!]
The throng of townsfolk scattered a bit, and a passing patrolman rushed forward to see what the commotion was. I told them I'd apprehended a Plegian spy, one that tried to shank me, and my word was corroborated by the plethora of witnesses. Yet even without them, I had a feeling the town's guard would've arrested the Plegian on my word alone. My reputation and fame had grown to such a degree.
The assassin was given rudimentary first aid before having steel manacles slapped around their wrists and was dragged to the town's guardhouse. I told everyone that everything was alright, then asked for directions to the nearest bookstore.
I continued onward, following the instructions given to me by the helpful townspeople until I stopped at an open shop stall; because I recognized the redheaded vendor: an Anna.
[Structural Analysis] revealed her full name was Annalee, so she wasn't the Anna I rescued from Border Pass. Still, curiosity led me to approaching her booth.
When the peddler saw me, her ever-present smile widened a margin. "Welcome to Humble Wares, your go-to booth for all your adventuring needs! I'm Anna, your loveable wandering shopkeep! How may I help you today?"
"Hello," I greeted politely. She didn't have any wares on display, so I'd no idea what she had in stock. "I actually met an Anna before today, saved her from some bandits. Do you know if Annabelle is doing okay?"
Anna's customer-smile softened with familiarity. "Whoa, I didn't now my little cuz got married! Good on her for snagging the Guardian of the Halidom!"
"Married? I didn't marry your cousin."
Anna stiffened, then stared at me with searching eyes. "That so? We Annas only give our full names to family, so unless you've got one seriously recessive Anna-gene, I'm going to have to call you out."
"I didn't marry an Anna," I repeated. "I'm just good at guessing names."
"Hmmmmm." Anna looked like she didn't believe me for a second, but still adopted her customary smile. "Then how about we make a teeny-tiny wager?"
"Oh? What terms?"
"Rumors has it you've a fine collection of rare gems, all perfectly shaped by an expert artisan's hand." Ah, she's taking about rupees. "You get three chances to divine my full name. You fail, and I get to go home with a tasty bonus."
"And if I guess right?"
Anna poked her chin, considering potential rewards. She must've been feeling fairly confident, because she ducked behind her booth with a cheshire-smile before popping back up with an item in tow. She laid it out on her stall's table, and I marveled at what I saw.
It was a long cloak, whiter than fresh snow and smoother than flawless silk. Despite there being no wind, an invisible breeze made the glimmering fabric rustle. I was pretty sure I knew what this was, but double checked anyways.
[Seraph Robe, Rank: A]
A garment sewn together from strands of Naga's nascent divinity. Those who wear it will be blessed with a permanent boost to their vitality.
HIT POINTS Increase: 5
Magic Cost: 3
[<Seraph Robe, Rank: A> has been added to the SYSTEM's Catalogue!]
[Warning! Should a third-party receive the blessing of a Projected Seraph Robe, the given vitality will be acquired from the user! Proceed with caution!]
I almost flinched reading that last part. So my [Projection, Trace Version] could create copies of Fire Emblem's permanent stat boosters, but allowing someone else to use one would permanently decrease my own stats by the given amount. Glad the SYSTEM warned me beforehand.
Still, before me was proof that stat boosters existed in this world, and could likely be acquired through the Anna Family. This was very good to know.
"Presenting the Seraph—!"
"You've got a deal, Annalee," I butted in.
"Excellent! Now, you have … three … chances … to …" Anna's voice trailed off and died as her mind slowly replayed what I said. Her aghast expression was worth immortalizing to memory. "H-H-How?!?"
"Like I said, I'm good at guessing names," I said as I grabbed the Seraph Robe from the counter and draped it over my shoulders. As soon as it settled, the divine garment burst into ribbons of white magic, all of which fluttered around me to form a halo before being absorbed into my body. It was accompanied by a rush of vitality that thrummed in my veins.
[Ding!]
[HIT POINTS increased by 5!]
[HIT POINTS: 34 / 39 (+5)]
"Y-You cheated! You must have cheated, you s-stupid, stinking cheater! Cheater! Cheater! Cheater!" Anna whined, angrily slapping her palms against her counter.
"I did," I freely admitted, before bringing out a red rupee and handing it to Anna, whose complaining instantly ceased. "So you can have this."
Anna's attitude did an abrupt 180. "Are you seeing anyone right now?"
I snorted, reminded of Annabelle's attempts at courtship. "No, and I'm keeping it that way."
"Fooey," Anna said without heat, all while rubbing her cheek against the hexagonal ruby.
"Has the Anna Family come across anything else like that Seraph Robe?"
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
"Energy Drops, Spirit Dust, Secret Books, Speedwings, Goddess Icons, Dracoshields, Talismans, Naga's Tears, so on and so forth," I recited, naming the stat boosters I could remember.
Anna gaped. "Gee whizz, you know your stuff. I myself don't got anything else, but I don't mind asking the rest of the Family what they've got squirreled away. Of course, I might require a small—"
I placed another red rupee on the counter.
It vanished into Anna's needy hands. "Thank you for your patronage! I'll get back to you as soon as I'm able!"
"I'll be traveling a lot. How'll you find me?"
"Secret♡!" Anna winked. "Will that be all?"
I gave her inquiry some thought. "I've plenty of gems, but not a lot of gold." The common currency of Fire Emblem. "Will most shopkeepers be willing to accept gems as payment?"
"The wealthy ones, yes," Anna confirmed. "But the less well-to-do places might be put in a bind if you try, like village blacksmiths and smalltime peddlers. Paying them with big, shiny gems worth more than their entire homes would make them prime targets for thieves. You might've cut the bandit populace down to size, but the cutpurses and pickpockets are still out there in force."
"How much gold do you have?"
"Plenty!"
"Then I'd like to sell some gems."
"Of course! How many would you—?" She nearly swallowed her tongue as I took out five green, five blue, five yellow, and five red rupees from my Inventory and stacked them in a small pile in front of her.
"How much for these?"
Anna's brain needed a second—or a minute—to reboot; didn't stop the river of drool spilling from her mouth. "H-How many of these w-w-wonderful g-gems do you have?"
"Too many."
I barely had any warning at all as Anna lunged at me from across her stall counter, though I did managed to intercept her face with my palm as she tried to glomp me.
"MARRY ME!"
"No! Calm down!" I screamed, startled by how strong her hysteric strength was.
"I'LL BEAR ALL YOUR BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN!"
"They'll all grow up to look like Annas!"
"EXACTLY! BEAUTIFUL!"
"GET THE HELL OFF ME, THOT!"
I somehow managed to drag myself away from that insanity 150,000 gold richer, but it came at a heavy price. Still, a valuable lesson was forever learned: never flaunt great wealth in front of an Anna.
~
With gold to splurge, I went on a shopping spree. I first hit the bookstore, and asked what they would commonly recommend to young women; then I bought one of everything. Next was the tailor. I didn't know Robin's sizes, so I asked for whatever they had on hand. Afterwards was the weapon shops. I filled up my Inventory with silver and steel weapons, along with several quivers of arrows. I also got some camping supplies, like a set of easily-assembled single-person tents, and a giant cast-iron pot with legs for cooking. I bought over a dozen empty barrels as well, planning to fill them with clean drinkable water.
Food was next on the list. Experimentation showed that anything going into the [Inventory of the Wild Hero] came out just as fresh, no matter how much time passed. So I stocked up, going from vendor to vendor and buying nearly all their produce. When Southtown's resident merchants and farmers learned I was paying generously for foodstuff, they came swarming at me in droves with handfuls, boxes, and wagons of their goods for me to buy.
So I did.
When you've got a dimensional storage to stuff all your junk in, you take full advantage of it.
Once I was done, my Inventory was bloated with enough food to comfortably feed a small village for a year.
~
Although I couldn't see her face behind the Stone Mask, I could tell Robin was grateful when I showed her all the books I'd bought for her. They quiet but meaningful "Thank you," she murmured made my day.
~
[2 Years Later …]
Robin plunged her steel dagger into the Plegian's unaware throat, making sure to muffle their dying gasps with her other hand. She kept a firm grip until the assassin went completely slack, then dragged the cooling corpse deeper into the alley's shadows. In the distance, she heard the Guardian chatting with the town's local mayor, no doubt searching for other Plegian spies with his incredible magic.
The two of them were visiting the small city of Hillville, several miles north of where Border Pass once stood. They'd heard the normally peaceful burg was quickly becoming fetid with anti-Exalt rhetoric. Believing it to be the result of more conniving Plegians they journeyed to the walled town, where the Guardian found it rife with the Mad King's saboteurs. Evidentially, the spies believed they could easily seed more treasonous drivel against the Exalt in this quiet hamlet in the north-western corner of the halidom.
Their approach was basic. First, the Guardian would identify the spies, then point them out to Robin, who would memorize every last identifying detail. Then, while the Guardian openly drew attention to himself, Robin (with the Stone Mask) would stalk the Plegians most likely to flee and eliminate them.
This wasn't the first time Robin got her hands bloody, and so long as the Mad King and his pet Grimleal reigned it wouldn't be the last.
After cleaning her dagger on the dead assassin's clothes, Robin tracked down and took out her next target. Followed by another, and another, and another. When the Plegians finally noticed their numbers were dropping, the Guardian dropped all pretenses and engaged the rest. They were absolutely no match against him, falling before his Projected blades like stalks of wheat.
Robin kept out of sight as he fought, although calling it a "fight" was giving the spies and assassins far more credit than they deserved. While the Stone Mask caused outside perception to slip off her, it did nothing to mask her scent or whatever sounds she made. If she drew too much attention to herself, or if an enemy got lucky and bumped into her, the mask's magic would break and she'd be visible for all to see.
Predictably, any intervention from her was unnecessary. The Guardian swept the floor with the Plegians, before informing the mayor of the treachery that'd gone on behind the scenes of his hometown. The mayor was rightfully outraged, and promised to send a runner to the capital to inform the Exalt of what'd occurred.
They left, but only after the Guardian visited several shops to "restock" his Inventory. Robin shook her head in fond exasperation. The amount of supplies that'd gone into his Inventory vastly exceeded everything that'd come out. Robin was fairly certain the Guardian was simply a hoarder, although he'd passionately denied any such accusations.
Once they were on the road again, beyond Hillville's sight, the Guardian asked, "Are you alright?"
Robin nodded, then remembered the Guardian couldn't see her and said, "I am." Speaking aloud temporarily undid the mask's concealment effect, rendering her visible to all. "You don't have to keep asking after every fight."
"Of course I do. You're my friend."
The corner of Robin's lips tugged upward. "You were the one battling those assassins face-to-face. I should be asking if you're alright."
"They didn't even scratch me. By the way"—he reached into his jerkin and took out a sealed letter, the sight of which made Robin's stomach lurch—"the Anna at Hillville had another letter from your mother. Do you—?"
"No," was Robin's immediate reply, falling silent and letting the Stone Mask's magic take hold once more.
The Guardian was quiet, watching the spot Robin had disappeared at, before storing the letter in his Inventory. "Okay, I'll hold onto it, along with the rest. If you ever want to read them …"
Robin didn't answer. She marched ahead, the noise of her stomping feet nearly undoing the mask's effect.
It'd been the Guardian's idea, for Robin and her mother to write to one another, with the Anna Family agreeing to ferry the letters for a small fee. Her mother obviously acknowledged the idea, as she'd been writing to Robin several times a month.
And Robin hadn't read any of them, nor had she written a single reply. She simply couldn't. She thought these feelings of guilt, lodged in her stomach with their serrated hooks, would lessen with time, but two years later and she still couldn't dig herself free from her remorse, to see the woman who sacrificed everything for her.
As twilight approached, they stepped off the beaten road to find a location to camp at. They wandered for half-an-hour, coming across a stream to wash the blood from their hands, before finding a reasonably concealed site. The Guardian brought out their tents, and let Robin set them up while he prepared a campfire to cook tonight's meal.
Robin's hands moved automatically, having mastered the assembly process through countless repetition. It allowed her mind to wander, and like every other time, it left her vulnerable to her latent fears.
She owed the Guardian more than he could possibly know. While he rightfully should've abandoned her—slain her—for her inexcusable existence, instead he held her, assuring her all would be well. He stuck by her, fed her, trained her, all with boundless patience she did not deserve.
Because she was the Fell Dragon.
The Breath of Ruin.
The Wings of Despair.
Grima, the Evil God of Annihilation.
Robin choked down a sob, contrived from a festering scar with no known cure. How much of what she felt now was actually real? She didn't feel like the Bringer of Ruin, nor did she want to herald the end of the world. Did that mean her mind, her emotions, and her memories up until now were nothing but a hollow placeholder until the true Fell Dragon could be revived by its fanatical followers?
It was her greatest fear: that the current her was nothing but a lie.
It's why she hid, why she refused to take off the Stone Mask. So long as she remained hidden from the world at large, the Grimleal would never find her; never change her. She could continue pretending to be Robin, friend of the Guardian of the Halidom, so long as she kept her head below the surface of the shadows, forever unseen by any and all.
She didn't want to live this way, but had no other choice.
Only the Guardian's constant care and companionship kept her sane.
Aiding him in killing Plegian spies also helped. She felt, as the slumbering Fell Dragon, she had a duty to muck up the Mad King's machinations as much as possible; an act of penance for existing. Her first kill was the worse, with the way her victim's blood seeped across and clung to her hands no matter how hard she scrubbed them later. The nightmares that night were especially harrowing, forcing her to cling to the Guardian for comfort. The act of killing never became easier, regardless of the number of Plegian lives she took, yet she hardened her heart as she forged onward. It also let her practice the skills she'd cultivated on real opponents.
Robin wondered if her mother would be proud of the progress she'd made.
"Robin," the Guardian spoke, causing Robin to jump a bit. The tents were set, and she'd been staring blankly into the roaring campfire. "Any dinner requests?"
"Anything will do. Everything you make is amazing."
"So, bear meat?"
Robin salivated, but only a little. At least the meals these past two years were beyond exceptional.
~
I took a peak at Robin's stats.
NAME: Robin, the Heart of Grima
AGE: 18
CLASS: Villager
LEVEL: 11
EXP: 91 / 100
HIT POINTS: 24 / 24
STRENGTH: 7
MAGIC: 14
SKILL: 10
SPEED: 8
LUCK: 15
DEFENSE: 8
RESISTANCE: 8
STATUS: Depressed, Unhappy, Hungry, Yearning
I did this frequently to see how she was doing. I know, it's a bit of an invasion of privacy, but if I asked her she'd brush me off with a dismissive "I'm fine." I never knew how much I hated those two words until now. If I tried to push, she'd clam up entirely. While she'd certainly grown stronger during our time together, her emotional status barely fluctuated.
Depressed. Unhappy.
No matter when or where I checked, those two words lingered like a foul curse. She'd have fleeting moments of happiness, usually when reading or accompanying me into a town (though she never removed the Stone Mask), but those brief instances were too few and far between.
Its why I gave it my best when preparing our meals, as those normally didn't fail to brighten her a bit. Opening my [Inventory of the Wild Hero], I swiped to the "Materials" section to see what food we had.
Apples (x148)
Berries (x245)
Bananas (x122)
Ylissean Mushrooms (x168)
Radishes (x156)
Carrots (x187)
Onions (x166)
Potatoes (x142)
Pumpkins (x136)
Bread (x91)
Raw Meat (x198)
Raw Gourmet Meat (x26)
Raw Bear Meat (x35)
Raw Chicken Drumstick (x59)
Raw Chicken Wing (x69)
Raw Whole Chicken (x20)
Sack of Rice (x145)
Eggs (x287)
Ylissean Wheat (x154)
Feroxi Spice (x105)
Feroxi Cinnamon (x32)
Cane Sugar (x18)
Honey (x17)
Butter (x22)
Fresh Milk (x28)
Ylissean Bass (x291)
Ylissean Trout (x201)
Feroxi Salmon (x188)
Red Crab (x16)
Red Lobster (x6)
Rock Salt (x38)
Barrel of Fresh Water (x99)
Hmm, looking a bit low, and Hillville didn't have much in ways of supplies. I'll have to properly restock soon.
The campfire was roaring nicely, right underneath my trusty iron cooking pot.
Before being dropped into this world, the only thing I could reliably make was instant cup ramen. However, the [Inventory of the Wild Hero] came with an unexpected but not unwelcome side-benefit: it made me into a cooking savant. Remember how Breath of the Wild Link could throw random food into a pot and poof, out came a well-prepared dish? It was like that, but with all the necessary steps. I still had to chop, prepare, and cook every individual ingredient with my own two hands, but I instinctively knew how to do so in the best and most efficient way possible, allowing me to cook meals fit for an Exalt.
And when I added [Reinforcement] on top of that?
Hoo boy, I nearly put Robin into a food coma the first time she tried my Reinforced gourmet meat rice bowl.
As for tonight? For an appetizer, I'm thinking a salmon risotto topped with a rich cream would be nice. We'll wash that down with some hearty pumpkin stew, which'll set us up for the entrée: Sweet and Spiced Bear Meat Skewers. Robin loved bear meat, even though I found it to be a bit too gamey. Still, once it was broiled with Feroxi space and lightly caramelized with honey procured from wild beehives, and then enhanced with [Reinforcement] … it'd turn out alright.
And just because I could, I'd whip up a tri-layered cake topped with sugary white frosting and fresh fruit.
Time's a wastin'. I brought out some fresh water and soap (purchased from Ylisstol), washed my hands, and got to work.
~
Shoot, I think I might've taken things too far. Robin ate until she nearly burst, and then ate more when I brought out the cake. I was almost worried I'd have to Project a heal stave. Did those work on severe indigestion?
Well, either way, hearing Robin moan in contentment made it all worth it.
~
Not knowing where to head next, Robin and I resorted to our tried-and-true method of spinning a stick and walking in the direction it fell towards. Today, it looked like we were heading south.
Couldn't strike up a conversation with Robin today, not while she was hunched over and clutching her stomach. Whenever I asked her something, the only response I got was a pained groan.
Oops.
So I killed a bit of time looking over my own status screen.
NAME: ???
AGE: 21
CLASS: ???
LEVEL: 13
EXP: 64 / 100
HIT POINTS: 43 / 43
STRENGTH:22
MAGIC: 14 (-1, Projection)
SKILL: 20
SPEED: 17
LUCK: 0
DEFENSE: 15
RESISTANCE: 20
The Anna Family informed me they had a Secret Book and Talisman they were willing to sell, and I happily took them up on their offer, even if I did suspect they were overcharging me by quite a bit. Still, I received an additional +2 to skill and resistance, so I really didn't mind.
Kind of wish they had a Goddess Icon though, because my nonexistent luck was starting to bug me.
We followed the road for a few days before reaching Themis, one of Ylisse's larger cities governed by a Duke Maxwell. Never met the man, but I'd heard good things about him all the same.
So imagine my surprise when Robin and I wound up meeting said duke on the road. I also didn't expect to see him locked in a mobile prison cage hauled by a set of horses and guarded by more than a dozen mounted Ylissean knights. Leading them was a bald elderly gentleman whose gray beard reached his rotund stomach.
"Hold!" the portly fellow called out from his mount; poor horse probably had a lot of back pain carrying all that lard. Still, this balding fatty must wield a certain amount of authority, as the prison convoy slowed to a halt by his command. "Free the road, traveler, for none may …" his voice petered off when he saw my Keaton Mask "… Guardian of the Halidom."
His knights suddenly sat straighter on their steeds. Not aggressively, but more … dutiful.
Duke Maxwell shifted behind his bars to get a look at me, and I him. Despite his circumstances, the man stood tall, his gaze clear, and his mane of flaxen hair unruffled. He definitely carried a presence to him, though I think most of it was due to his magnificent mustache.
I felt Robin quietly split from my side in case violence ensued.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Guardian," the round elder said. "I am Sir Gideon, Royal Magistrate under the service of her Benevolence, Exalt Emmeryn."
"Please to meet you," I said with a respectful tilt of my head. "What's going on here?"
"A matter of most heinous treachery," the magistrate grumbled, stroking his beard. "It has come to light that Duke Maxwell employed the services of a thief to steal from the Ylissean royal treasury. The criminal was promptly caught and interrogated, and named Duke Maxwell as his patron. For—"
"My father is innocent you bloated, blacked-hearted lout!"
Everyone turned to see a young child dart between myself and the magistrate, her amber eyes glowering at the elder while she wrung her folded parasol as if it were his flabby neck. She was dressed in an attire only nobility could wear, with royal-yellow hair styled into drills and held in place by a set of pearl-colored bows. However, her complexion was flush, her wheezing heavy, and her expensive boots muddy and scratched, like she'd urgently run a great distance.
Duke Maxwell nearly had a small seizure at her appearance.
"Maribelle! What possessed you to abscond from the estate?" he demanded.
If I had any questions as to the girl's identity, I didn't anymore.
NAME: Maribelle, the Classical Noblewoman
AGE: 11
CLASS: Noble
LEVEL: 1
EXP: 0 / 100
HIT POINTS: 16 / 16
STRENGTH: 1
MAGIC: 3
SKILL: 3
SPEED: 4
LUCK: 3
DEFENSE: 2
RESISTANCE: 2
STATUS: Indignant, Terrified
"B-But father!" little Maribelle protested, nearly pleading, "how could I when this inbred, gutter-born, ill-mannered nitwit has treated you so?"
Geez, even at a young age the girl had a talent for insulting people. Did she spend all her free time coming up with new ways to expand her verbal repertoire?
Still, this whole situation was niggling something in the corner of my mind. It was … familiar, meaning I likely learned of this very scenario from the game, yet I couldn't place any details.
Curse my horrid memory.
I cleared my throat, drawing everyone's attention to me. Maribelle whirled around and stared as if she hadn't noticed me until now.
"What is Duke Maxwell's sentence?" I asked.
The magistrate spare one last glare at Maribelle, who returned it with equal fervor, and said, "To steal from the royal treasury is to steal from the realm itself. While he will be brought before the judiciary court, I've no doubt his sentence will be the headsman's axe."
Maribelle went white as a sheet, while Duke Maxwell closed his eyes in resignation.
Damn, that's a permanent punishment for sure, but was the duke actually guilty? Curious, I checked with [Structural Analysis].
Here's a bit more info about my Personal Skill: it worked best on weapons, so-so with inanimate objects, and not-so-well with people. Basically, if I used it on a sword I'd be able to read its entire history without difficulty, while a non-weapon's history would be filled with static; difficult to see past, but not impossible. As for people, while I could see their status screen with ease, looking beyond that and into their past only gave me brief and sporadic glimpses.
Yet from what little I gathered I knew beyond a doubt that Duke Maxwell was framed, and letting an innocent man die for a crime he didn't commit didn't sit right with me.
"The duke is innocent," I announced to everyone's bewilderment. Maribelle's was due to overwhelming joy, while the magistrate and his knights were confused at best. "You have my guarantee. Please let him go."
"You see? Even the lowborn knows my father is an upstanding man of breeding!" Maribelle shouted triumphantly. "Release him at once!"
"B-But, we have the thief's confession!" magistrate Gideon protested.
"The thief lied," I assured.
"How are you so certain?"
I shrugged. "Magic."
The round elder was clearly torn, struggling between the evidence their court gathered and the word of the Guardian of the Halidom. Ultimately, it appeared mine alone wasn't enough.
"Forgive me, Guardian, but the thief's transcripts are without fault," the magistrate said, sitting tall on his mount. "By royal decree, I am to bring Duke Maxwell to Ylisstol where he will face his judgment with the dignity a man of his bearing is due. Please, abandon this folly and stand aside. Refusal to comply will be dealt with by force."
As one, the horseback knights drew their swords. There were 20 in total, and every last one of them practically radiated regret. None wanted to point their blade at the Guardian of the Halidom, and a brief round of [Structural Analysis] showed if we fought, I'd crush them all one-sidedly.
Perhaps a bit of intimidation would make them stand down.
"Stand behind me," I said, placing a hand on little Maribelle's tiny shoulder and moving her out of harm's way.
"W-Watch your unwashed hands, you brute!" Maribelle yammered.
Was she incapable of not insulting everyone she met?
Whatever, it didn't change what I needed to do.
Time to test my new technique.
I folded my arms, a show of indifference that put the knights and Gideon on extreme edge, and intoned, "Trace, on. Projections, standby."
My magic circuits flared, crackling with arcane energy as I activated [Projection, Trace Version]. However, instead of appearing in my hands, my Traced weapons were conjured in the air around me. 10 steel swords appeared in consecutive bursts of magic, equally spaced apart and hovering directly overhead.
I noticed the magistrate gulp.
"All barrels, marking targets."
My Projections shifted, pointing directly at the sweating knights.
"Full barrage, concurrent fire!"
My swords launched like they were fired from ballistae. Screams were heard as magistrate Gideon fell from his horse in a panic while his knights blindly braced themselves for the worst. Maribelle cried for her father, worried for his safety, but I stopped her from rushing towards him.
The Projections kicked up a fair bit of dust on impact, but when it settled everyone realized I hadn't hit a single person; I never meant to. Instead, my Traced swords were embedded in the road between myself and the magistrate, forming a line of steel.
"I also don't want to fight," I said as Gideon and his subordinates noticed they were still alive. "But if you move Maxwell past this line"—I nodded towards my blades—"then we are going to have a very brief disagreement."
"You …" Gideon could barely form words with his trembling lips, "… you would s-s-slay us?"
"No." Not for doing their jobs. "But you won't be having a pleasant evening."
Gideon glanced at his knights, most of whom were struggling to remain upright, and sunk his head. His decision came promptly. "We will leave, without the convict." Maribelle clutched my arm in joy. "Men, release the prisoner."
His subordinates were more than happy to follow those orders. In a matter of minutes, Duke Maxwell's cage was opened, his shackles were unlocked, and he was escorted off the prison convoy.
The first thing he did was rush to his daughter, who sprinted towards her father, and embrace her.
"Foolish girl. What if harm befell upon you?" Maxwell murmured into his child's plentiful hair.
"No price was too great to secure your freedom, father," Maribelle replied, holding him tighter as emotion made her voice warble.
Somewhere beside me, I could tell Robin staring at the father-daughter duo.
The magistrate tried to maintain an image of nonchalance as he dusted his expensive garments; I'd give him a B+ for effort. His steed had fled in fright, and needed to be retrieved. Once it was, and everyone was mounted, Gideon said to me, "We will be staying in the nearby city of Themis, while our fastest messenger delivers my personal missive to the Exalt detailing what has occurred here."
If that was supposed to be a threat, it didn't land.
"Tell her I said 'hi'," I said.
Gideon frowned at me. "I pray to Naga you have no regrets with your actions today, Guardian."
"Don't think I'll ever regret saving an innocent man. Hey, is that thief still in your custody?" The magistrate slowly nodded. "Tell him the Guardian's at Themis, protecting the Duke, and that I don't appreciate his lies."
"I … will see to it the message is passed along."
Gideon and his knights trotted off, along with their prison transport. I apologized to several of his men; most were still freaking out, though were mainly grateful we didn't come to blows. One of them had extended family at a village I'd saved from bandits years ago, and thanked me profusely for it.
Once they were gone, I was approached by the Duke of Themis, who was still holding his daughter's hand.
"I thank you, Guardian of the Halidom," he said, giving me a small bow, much to Maribelle's shock. "Never could I anticipate the day where the people's hero would save me from an untimely end."
"Emmeryn pretty much said the same thing when I lent her a hand."
"H-How dare you speak of royalty with such familiarity, you unwashed lowborn!" Maribelle hissed.
Unwashed? I was tempted to take a cursory sniff of myself, but refrained in present company. Thinking back, it's been a while since either Robin or I enjoyed a proper bath. We'd mainly been dunking ourselves in rivers whenever we had the chance. I'd have to correct this.
For some reason, I got the feeling Robin wanted to smack the young lady on the head.
"Maribelle!" the duke barked, making his daughter flinch. "As a noblewoman of our social standing I expect you to show gratitude where it is due!"
Maribelle lowered her head, cheeks flush with shame. "A-Apologizes, Guardian. You are undeserving of my ire."
"Don't worry about it," I said, waving her off. "I don't mind."
"But what course of action will you take now?" Maxwell asked me, showing concern for my sake. "While I thank you for defending my honor and innocence, the royal magistrate was tasked by the Exalt herself to bring me before the Ylissean courts. I fear you have snubbed the royal family by challenging her orders."
"If it comes to anything, I'll talk to her." Emmeryn was a reasonable person, so I was confident I could work things out with her. "If you don't mind, might we … uh, I mean … I stay with you for a few nights? The magistrate and his men are still nearby, and I wouldn't put it past them to try and arrest you again."
"Our family owes you a debt of gratitude," the duke said. "Consider my house, your house. Ours doors will always be open to you."
"Oh, yes! I insist you come!" Maribelle added excitedly. "It will give us a wonderful opportunity to wash the stench of poverty from the pauper's rags you call clothes!"
She wasn't doing this intentionally, right?
Right?
I glanced at Duke Maxwell, who could only offer me a sheepish but apologetic smile in return.
~
Living in luxury was very nice after camping out for years. The beds were soft as clouds, the sheets as smooth as satin, the baths were heavenly, and the clothes downright dandy. No complaints about the food, only that my cooking was better (mainly because I cheated). The company was nice too, ignoring all the insults Maribelle involuntarily directed my way. I learned she meant well, but was socially awkward in the weirdest way: she could talk to people just fine, but not without throwing a verbal jab or ten first. Mercifully, as we got to know one another better, she became a much more pleasant kid to be around.
She insisted I was her friend; her only friend.
Not hard to see why.
Robin never took off the Stone Mask, and ended up sharing a room with me. While we were here, she basically haunted the duke's estate. Maids were frightfully gossiping about the sound of footsteps echoing in empty halls, or how they'd hear a stranger's voice around the corner only to find no one there. The most prominent tale was how the restless spirit suffered an undying sweet tooth, as confections would frequently disappear from the kitchen. The duke apologized for this upsetting experience (making me and Robin feel guilty) and promised once his name was cleared he'd hire a competent magician from the capital to exorcise his giant estate.
I offered to cover the costs. When Maxwell protested, I insisted.
A week later, the royal magistrate approached the estate to declare the duke's innocence. He said the treasury thief escaped from his cell days ago, but not before leaving a note explaining how he was threatened by a third-party to blame Duke Maxwell. With their primary accessory backtracking on their testimony, the duke was free of all charges.
Magistrate Gideon gave Maxwell his personal apologies for this harrowing affair, as well as tell me Emmeryn also said "Hi" and wanted to know if I'd be visiting the capital any day soon.
I said it depend on where my feet took me.
The duke held a small celebration that night, with only his wife, daughter, steward, and estate staff in attendance. Maxwell was a private man, and while he family was rich and politically powerful, he avoided the spotlight. Of the family, the one who attended the noble courts was his wife, Evelyn, a beautiful woman with hair the same shade as her daughter's, but longer and much more luxurious. She'd been preparing to raise the mother of all stints when her husband was arrested, but didn't need to thanks to my interference.
I didn't mind small gatherings like this. Having lounged here for a week, I knew almost of the people in attendance by name, and they in turn were used to my presence and kept the hero-worship to a minimum. Robin was my invisible plus-one, haunting the confection table and frightening the waitstaff with her ability to make pastries disappear by the handful. I wound up spending most of the party chatting with Maribelle, mainly because the kid kept following me around no matter where I went, and learned she was now very interested in becoming a minister of law to prevent the innocent from ever suffering false charges again.
Big dreams for an 11 year old, but I wished her the best.
When the party began winding down as the night aged, I absently glanced out a nearby window and noticed a shadow leap across the walls of the duke's estate. Well, well, an unexpected guest. I politely excused myself before heading off to confront the intruder. Robin, needing to work off the calories she'd imbibed, followed.
I didn't hate thieves as much as I despised bandits. My general policy towards them was to introduce them to my fists before hauling them off to the nearest garrison.
Yet when I cornered this particular thief, grabbing them by their black cloak and hurling them against the carpeted floor, my knuckles were stayed upon recognizing their short but familiar carrot-colored hair.
"Crivens!" the thief, smelling thickly of sweets, grunted. "I shouldn't be one to argue, but you need to watch it when you toss a guy like that. I think you broke … my …" his voice petered off as his widening eyes stared up at my Keaton Mask. His jaw fell low enough for the lollipop in his mouth to almost fall out.
I didn't say a word, instead confirming his identity with [Structural Analysis].
NAME: Gaius, the Sweet Thief
AGE: 16
CLASS: Thief
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 54 / 100
HIT POINTS: 18 / 20
STRENGTH:6
MAGIC: 0
SKILL: 11
SPEED: 13
LUCK: 6
DEFENSE: 4
RESISTANCE: 2
STATUS: Nervous, Scared, Resigned
Gaius, thief of Ylisse, sweet-lover extraordinaire, and potential member of Chrom's Shepards in the future. An iron sword hung from his waist, which I could see his right hand slowly creeping towards.
"Don't," was all I said.
Gaius got the message, and raised his hands in surrender.
I slowly lifted him up by the collar of his cloak, a simple task with my 22 points of strength, and set him on his feet.
"Here to steal from the duke?" I asked, my grip as unrelenting as steel.
"Normally? Yeah, that'd be something up my alley," Gaius readily confessed, trying to come off as casual; didn't stop his hands from trembling. "But nah, not today. I ain't here as a thief, but a delivery boy."
"Delivering what?"
"Whoa, hey now. That's private stuff, Terror."
I tilted my head. "Terror?"
"Yeah, you know … because you terrify the stuffing out of me."
"Then try a change of profession."
"Ah, that's a bit problematic. Gotta pay for my sweets somehow," Gaius tried to chuckle.
While it was sort of nice to have bumped into the Shepard's candy-loving thief like this, I was wondering why he was here. Then it clicked. Gaius, an attempted theft of the Ylissean royal treasury, the charges brought against Maribelle's father …
Gaius and Maribelle's support conversation.
"It was you," I recalled, looming over the thief. Gaius tried to lean away, but my grip kept him pinned. "You're the thief who tried to steal from the royal treasury, the one who was caught and framed Maxwell for hiring him."
Beside me, I heard Robin's breathing hitch.
As for Gaius, he practically deflated in my hold.
"Damn, Terror. How'd you figure that out?" he asked guiltily.
I didn't answer. Instead, I continued, "You backtracked on your previous testimony, letting the duke off the hook. I won't thank you, considering you got him in hot water in the first place."
"Fair."
"But why blame Maribelle's father in the first place?" My memory was steadily being refreshed, so I was fairly sure I knew why, but I wanted to hear the answer from Gaius's own mouth.
Gaius gnawed on his lollipop, and I absently wondered how many cavities he doubtlessly had.
"I didn't have a choice," he grumbled.
"No choice?!" Robin screamed, popping into view. Gaius nearly jumped out of his cloak in surprise, but reeled when Robin drew her Levin Sword and threatened to ram it through his sternum. "What excuse could you possible have for framing a good man and nearly condemning him to the gallows? The temptation of riches? The desire to line your pockets with ill-gotten gold, all so you can fatten yourself with sugar? Is that all Duke Maxwell's life was worth to you?!"
"Crivens! Where'd you come f—?"
"Answer the question!" Robin snapped, the tip of her Levin Sword piercing the front of Gaius's tunic. I was starting to worry she'd kill him on the spot. "How did you justify depriving a child of their father?!"
"I didn't! I was threatened, okay?!" Gaius yelled.
"A likely tale! By whom?"
That's when I said, "By the same people who demanded you name the Duke of Themis as the one who hired you."
The thief's focus bounced back to me. "Y-Yeah, got it in one, Terror."
Robin almost snarled. "So your life was on the line? That—"
"That's not it," I cut in, then said to Gaius, "I … don't think you're a bad person … well, at least not a horrible one. You came here to try and make amends, after all. You're also a thief, a skilled one if you broke out of custody on your own, so if you were personally threatened I've no doubt you've ways to make yourself disappear. No, it wasn't your neck the blade was pressed against, it was someone else … someone innocent. Was it Maribelle, the duke's daughter?"
Robin whipped her head towards me, floundering.
Gaius was studying me with a fresh batch of respect and fear. "… I'm really glad I quit being a bandit when I did."
I drew him an inch closer to my face. "You say something?"
"N-Nothing! And I never hurt anyone! I swear on my sugary soul and all that!"
"Is it true?" Robin asked, much more mellow, and lowering her Levin Sword. "It was Maribelle who was endangered?"
Gaius huffed a long-suffering sigh. "Yeah, Snappy, yeah it was. I knew I'd done her dad dirty, but I couldn't let his kid die. Had to choose between two crappy options, and went with the one I could live with. But hey," he turned his scowl into a half-grin, "least the fabled Guardian was here to save the day. I owe you one, Terror, really."
"The ones who threatened Maribelle, do you know who they are?"
"That I do. Bunch of lower nobles from struggling houses, barons and the like. Tried to rise the ranks when everyone was getting all hissy with the Exalt, but got slapped down when you did your thing. Very cool, by the way. Now I think they're trying again by messing with her biggest supporters."
I let Gaius go. So this wasn't another Plegian plot, but a bunch of Ylissean nobles making a grab for power. If they'd been threatening Maribelle, that meant they had people in the duke's estate. I hadn't known about them until now because I'd been searching for Plegian spies, not Ylissean ones.
I'd best correct that.
"I'm cashing in that favor," I said as Gaius straightened his cloak.
"Already?"
"You can name names?" The thief nodded. "Then I want you to sneak into Ylisstol and leave a list of those involved for Emmeryn, along with what they attempted to do here."
"You serious?" Gaius groaned. "I just escaped from the capital. Now you want me to go back?"
"Yes," I said bluntly. Seeing how the thief was reluctant to try, I recalled how Chrom got Gaius to join the Shepards and sweetened the deal. I brought out a jar of honey from my Inventory, and said, "Do this for me, and I'll—"
"You've got a deal!" Gaius happily exclaimed, snatching up the pot. "Pleasure doing business with you Terror!" And with that, he raced away with a skip in his steps.
With that settled, it was time to address the other issue.
"Robin," I said. She tried to fade away, but I reached out and gently grabbed her shoulder, preventing her from disappearing. "Robin, are you alright?"
"I'm f—"
"No, you're not fine," I cut her off candidly. "You were an instant away from snapping and giving that thief an impromptu heart surgery. You haven't been fine in a long, long time. Please, talk to me. Let me help."
I couldn't see her face, but I felt her internal dilemma. Thoughts were warring inside her mind, battling between cutting me off one more … or letting me in.
I gave her time. I've waited two years, I could wait a few minutes more.
Eventually, she whispered, "You want … to help me?"
"Always," I assured her.
"No matter what?"
"No matter what."
She looked up at me, our masks facing one another. "Even if I asked you to kill Validar?"
…
Say what now?
~Current Stats~
NAME: ???
AGE: 21 (+2)
CLASS: ???
LEVEL: 13 (+3)
EXP: 64 / 100
HIT POINTS: 43 / 43 (+9)
STRENGTH:22 (+3)
MAGIC: 14 (-1, Projection) (+2)
SKILL: 20 (+5)
SPEED: 17 (+3)
LUCK: 0
DEFENSE: 15 (+2)
RESISTANCE: 20 (+4)
~Current Skills~
PERSONAL SKILL 1: Projection, Trace Version
PERSONAL SKILL 2: Inventory of the Wild Hero
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