His searches turned up nothing.
Weeks had gone by, and there was no sign of Brady, no matter where Gaius looked. He'd toured every inch of Ylisse, but somehow, his future son had evaded him.
Each passing day, his mental health would take the brunt of it, the fact that he failed again in keeping his promise negatively impacted him. Brady was half of Maribelle, half of himself... It was as if he lied to her all over again, that he would protect her, keep her safe...
Brady was not safe. Not out there on his own. Not while Grima was out and about, not while the Risen multiplied in numbers everyday.
They failed.
He failed.
The gods were cruel. That was... if they existed at all. If they did, they reminded Gaius of small children who took glee in tearing the wings off of butterflies, who delighted in setting fire to insects, knowing that they had the power to do so with little to no remorse.
He failed.
He failed.
He failed.
Like clockwork, the thought never left him. He failed in protecting them both. He was a failure.
Brady was as good as dead out there on his own. And every night, Gaius let the guilt eat at him. There was no point in looking forward to a brighter future... Not when everything he gave a damn about perished. Not when the people he cared for ceased to exist anymore.
Delirium would sometimes take over. Anger, hopelessness, bitterness... it all would overtake him before the grief would finally strike him down.
Everything was a mess. Nothing made sense anymore.
He would usually feign nonchalance or otherwise ignore people entirely if they approached him. He wanted nothing to do with others, he'd rather be left to his own devices, deal with his grief alone and silently. Losing both of his family members to war had made him cold. His temper ran shorter these days, as did his patience.
Months later, Gaius would return to Themis empty handed. Brady was nowhere to be found in all of his trekking across the vast lands of the once proud nation, and for that, he was a shell of the man he once was.
The manor felt empty now, despite all of the expensive furniture that adorned it.
Many of the staff had fled, choosing to spend the rest of their days with their families.
At least they had families to go back to.
The rest of his days would pass in a haze. While most of the maids had left, others had stayed around to raise the Brady of this timeline. They would never outright say it, but they pitied their new lord of Themis.
Lord of Themis... Gaius would snort every time he was called the new Duke. To hell with them and their fancy names. He wanted nothing to do with the title, and whenever it was suggested he remarry to bring a Duchess into the home, he would turn on his heel and leave the room.
He wouldn't interact with his newborn son. And whenever one of the maids would bring Brady to him, swaddled in blankets, Gaius would hold the child for a moment, eyes resting on Brady's face before he would hand the infant back and wordlessly leave.
The funeral for Maribelle was a somber occasion. Many people attended from near and far to bid the noblewoman a final goodbye. It was grand, exactly how Maribelle would have wanted it.
However, Gaius did not attend.
Many of the guests whispered behind their hands over the fact that her own husband did not attend her funeral. Snidely, they wondered if he only married into nobility to line his pockets with gold, as most lowborn did.
But to see her in the casket would do him no favors. He had watched her get cut down like a deer for slaughter.
Those damned nobles didn't have a clue. To hell with them all. What did he care what they thought? None of them cared for Maribelle or her family. They only cared to put up a sad front to appear "humble" around their peers, as if to prove that money hadn't gotten rid of their human compassion.
Money would surely save them during their final days on earth. Money would surely buy them safety. Money would surely buy them happiness.
When Maribelle's father had laid his daughter to rest and learned of his future grandson's inevitable death, his health would slowly deteriorate over the weeks before he'd finally pass from a broken heart. He wasn't a young man, he wasn't sprightly, and so losing his only daughter and his grandson had taken a drastic toll on him.
His wife would follow shortly after, but not before blaming Gaius for ruining her family, their name, for "killing her only daughter". She never did forgive Gaius for everything he put House Themis through all those years ago.
He was not sorry to see her go.
Years would pass and Brady grew.
His father kept his distance for the most part and Brady often wondered if his father hated him. If he had done something to make him angry.
Brady was lonely. He had friends in the other children of Gaius' departed comrades, but what he needed was a mother's love.
A father's love.
Gaius only spoke to his son when needed, as it was painful for him to look into Brady's warm-colored eyes for too long.
And the more Brady grew, the more Gaius saw Maribelle in him.
Maribelle always did cry over utterly silly things. Like flowers that struggled to live in the harsh climates. And so it was a flashback whenever Gaius would see his son sobbing over a plant for no good reason.
But Brady didn't only cry over plants. He cried over puppies he found abandoned on the streets, he cried over mewling kittens, he cried when he cut potatoes, (if they were lucky enough to find potatoes in that hellscape.)
And as more time passed... Gaius learned to embrace his son as he saw all of his lovable quirks. It wasn't Brady's fault that Maribelle was not around, and this Brady was different from the Brady he knew.
Slowly, Gaius would make up for lost time with his son. It was what Maribelle would have wanted. He taught Brady everything he knew, everything that Maribelle herself had taught him, so that he might pass it down to their son. He knew Maribelle would have wanted it, and although Gaius never cared for aristocratic life, it was the least he could do for his late wife.
He knew nothing about violin, or chess, or horseback riding... But he knew how to teach Brady to flee if need be, to protect himself if... if he wasn't around anymore to save Brady from danger.
Sugar was scarce the more the future came to pass as their reality. He no longer had food for comfort, nothing to snack on as he dealt with the stress of their new home.
Every day, Gaius learned of a new death among his old comrades.
Chrom was the first to go, and as a result, Lissa had taken up the crown as the new Exalt, the Lucina of this timeline to follow shortly after Lissa would inevitably die.
Others to die were Donnel, Frederick, Cherche... Perhaps even more unnamed soldiers.
Word had also gotten around that Libra had perished... though not by noble means.
Gaius felt a pang in his gut over Libra's passing especially. He knew just how hard Libra's wife's and daughter's deaths had killed him on the inside. He knew Libra had abandoned his faith and had let the misery choke him until he stopped breathing.
The one friend he knew that was always so soft-spoken. So heartfelt. To know his depression would lead him to that end...
No, it was better to hope that at least now... Libra had his peace.
The skies were red and the smell of death, blood, and rot was everywhere, hanging over the world like a thick smog.
Every night, they had nightmares.
Gaius would replay Maribelle's death over and over again in his mind along with the others who died for no good reason. He would wake every night in a cold sweat.
Brady would dream of his father's death, he dreamed of the Risen, he dreamed of losing Aunt Lissa to them, he dreamed of losing his friends to them. He dreamed that Noire and her father would die as senselessly as Uncle Chrom had.
Every night, Brady would wake up in tears and make his father promise him that he wouldn't die. That Gaius would stay alive.
And Gaius gave him his word. He swore he would protect Brady, he swore that he would stay alive for Brady. The deaths of the future Brady and Maribelle hardened his resolve. He'd make good on this promise. He wouldn't fail his family again.
As the days continued to drag on, Gaius would consider the idea of re-joining the Shepherds once more. He had a reason to fight again and that reason was Brady. Not to mention the fact that he would very much like to cut Robin down for killing Maribelle for mere sport.
Though... It would be foolish to join the Shepherds again, wouldn't it? Why send himself to an early grave when he could raise Brady? When he could at least keep his son alive?
... But was this living? Living boarded up in the crumbling mansion with the windows and doors sealed in an effort to keep the Risen out?
Their uneasy peace was finally broken, however, when they were forced to flee one night, the doors busting down and the Risen swarming into the manor.
Brady's shrill screams forced Gaius to act, and scooping up his son and his weapon, he would flee, Brady's terrified howls loud in his ear along with his own erratic heartbeat as the Risen gave chase.
Through the yellow, bare plains of Ylisse they ran, Brady clutching onto his father for dear life. His nightmares were becoming a reality, and with guilt, Gaius realized that this was what Lucina meant when she said this would become their future.
But what choice did they have?! Who could stop Grima?!
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted, however, when a sharp pain in his side caused him to stumble and drop Brady. A hiss of pain, and Gaius realized an arrow had lodged itself into his side. And then another into his chest.
Ylisstol was only in the distance...!
"Gods...!" No, it couldn't end like this...! He told Brady he would be safe! He was failing again, he was breaking his promises again!
But as the Risen advanced... he knew it /was/ the end.
Barely registering Brady's frantic crying, he would turn to his son, and between pants, between teeth gritted in pain, he said, "Brady... Aunt Lissa... Go!"
He knew Brady would start up his protests, but with a shaking hand, Gaius pushed his son towards the castle in the distance. His heart felt heavy, he knew what he was subjecting Brady to, but he had no choice. Brady had to live. Even as he spoke, he felt his consciousness quickly leaving him as his wounds bled.
"She'll... take care of you. Just tell her... I said hello... alright?"
Whether Brady fled or not, he didn't know. All he knew was that his vision blurred, spots adorning his sight as his lungs suddenly felt very heavy, each breath becoming harder to pull in.
So was this what death felt like...?
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if he and Maribelle would see each other again now as he slowly drifted off into unconsciousness, the numbness overtaking him as the life slowly left his body.
Twinkles... I'll see you soon.