Hello there readers! I am called Six.
After a long and painful argument with myself, I have finally caved into my desires to post a story here.
When in Doubt, Dethrone the King is somewhat of a "self-insert", but the main character and I are fundamentally different. Very... very different.
It is entirely up to you if you want to classify this as a self-insert.
Before moving onto the main story, I have several issues to address.
The first and foremost issue that I would like to address to you is that I am predominately a drawer. I have so many ideas about so many things, but sometimes, I find myself unable to properly convey those ideas into pictures.
And damn it, ideas need to be shared!
Unfortunately, I am also too impatient to sit and type. Because of this, I will probably leave large plot points out and miss grammar and spelling mistakes when proofreading. I fully intend to deliver a comprehensive service to you, so in order to help me improve, when you see a fault, PLEASE tell me. If one of you readers spots a mistake, then that means other readers see it too.
The second point that needs to be addressed is update times. As stated above, I am too impatient to sit and type. Not only that, I still have University and work commitments to attend to. These factors will eventually lead to long wait times between chapters. Currently, update times won't be so bad. I am currently on a small break, but after this break is over, expect it to considerably lengthen.
Lastly! I don't own Fire Emblem (or anything you might recognise - like the brief mention of Bleach and Pokemon).
Hopefully, this chapter isn't as bad as when I was proof-reading it (because that was BAD).
Um... please enjoy!
Chapter 1 – As the Self-Insert Gods Dictate
Oh, and I saw the light, two bright and dazzling pinpricks in a haze of dark, ever increasing in size, and never relenting.
It's funny how you notice these things when you look at things from a different perspective. In my case, it's the view I got of an incoming train from a 'lying down' position from the tracks on the floor.
It was accompanied by a cacophony of noises – all very pleasant to my ears. The screech of metal against metal, a mewling cat in the distance, and screams of my name from a voice that I was sure I knew very well.
The acceptance that I was going to die came to me with a calm and cool clarity in my last few seconds on this Earth. I wasn't scared of death, I was just slightly disappointed that I couldn't fulfil my life ambitions.
From the unfortunate position I was in on the floor, I turned my head towards the light, and giggled. I figured my tendency to trip on thin air would get me killed. In that regard, I'm just like that character – Sumia from Fire Emblem, tripping on everything and nothing. My giggle turned into full-blown laughter.
Just accept it Atlas, your pathetic life is over.
Then all I saw was the light.
And the pain.
And the pain.
And So much pain.
It felt like my body was being shredded into ribbons by hot knives, and then meticulously repaired whole again, only for the whole process to start over, only worse.
"Can you hear us?"
The cacophony of noises that accompanied me to my death grew louder until I could no longer distinguish one from the other, although that could have been attributed to the pain, or my screaming, I simply did not know.
"Can you feel us?"
In the deliriousness of my pain, the noises blended together so beautifully, into a melodious, hypnotising chant.
"Can you accept us?"
The chants felt cold and dark against my ears, vibrating in a certain way that sent shivers down my spine. It was a welcome reprieve from the brightness and the heat, and so I grasped to the chanting.
"Atlas?"
My name? Yes, that's me! Save me, please. It's too bright. It hurts so much. Please.
"Can you hear us?"
Yes! Yes I can! Please just help me.
"Can you feel us?"
The shivers I kept on feeling caressed my spine again, I felt it, the fingertips of death stroking me, and they were cold like an autumn breeze in the middle of a desert's summer.
"Can you accept us?"
It was a simple affair to realise you're dead, but to accept death's company was a whole new dilemma, especially for a normal person.
"Atlas?"
But I wasn't normal, far from it actually – ever since my youth I have strived to be different, to be as unique and as strong as my names sake.
I hated the thought of being sub-par and it showed through my actions and behaviour (the first verse of the Pokemon theme song didn't help me curb my ambition during childhood either). I probably drove my lovely parents crazy in my need to be "the very best". I suppose, they just couldn't handle me.
Poor ambitious me, I would do ANYTHING to get what I want. Accepting death to stop a continuous stream of pain was a simple matter in my mind's eye. Maybe in death, I would stop feeling the pain?
So I opened my heart to the very idea of death, one part of my brain told me it was a foolish thing to do. Didn't all the stories say to go towards the light? Towards heaven where you could live with your loved ones again?
But the light brought pain to my eyes and fires onto my body.
Bah, humbug!
The light was overrated anyway.
Slowly, but surely darkness surrounded me, cold and welcoming, soothing my pain with numbness in its embrace.
"Can you see us?"
I didn't know what exactly I was supposed to be looking for, but I coughed out a small yes to the darkness anyway, tasting blood in my mouth. I reached out towards the dark hoping to burry myself as far as I could into it.
"Atlas?"
"Yes?"
"Will you stay with us?" The darkness was so comforting, so soothing. Why would I ever want to leave?
"Stay here?" I croaked out, curling further into the delicious darkness, "Forever."
And in the dark embrace I felt death smile.
I woke up on a bed made of straw, covered in bandages from my head to my toes and wearing a weirdly styled dark purple tunic. It reminded me of something a medieval peasant would wear.
I probably stunk like one too. Taking a whiff, I quickly pulled away in disgust.
Yep, I sure did. There was that tingling sensation at the back of my spine again. I wonder what it is-
My brain screeched to a halt. Wasn't I was forgetting something very important here?
Ah. Yes, wasn't I supposed to be dead? I got run over by a train didn't I? What happened next? How did I get here?
I… don't remember.
I groaned at my predicament, "No use moping around Atlas", I remember my mother telling me, "If you can't control it, let it go." Taking a few deep breaths I decided to look around at the room. Maybe I can find some sort of clue as to what led me here.
I took my time to observe the room I woke up in with my right eye; the other was wrapped in some sort of itchy gauze. I refrained from unwrapping it.
The room was made out of a mixture of straw and mud bricks, likely hardened in the sun. The room had a hard floor made out of dirt and a roof made of straw. It reminded me of those ethnic houses in South East Asia, Africa and the Middle East. I knew because I made one when I went on a school excursion to Vietnam, to help an orphanage, all those years ago.
I went back to observing my surroundings, the room was sparse. The only things in the room besides the bed was a chair, a table filled with empty bowls was on the opposite side of the room, next to my straw bed was a small bedside drawer holding a glass of water.
I slowly sat up from my position in order to reach the glass of water, everything hurt, but it was bearable. I felt certain that if I were to stand up, I would quickly come crashing down again, so I saved myself from that pain, and stayed sitting as I sipped on the water.
Slowly swishing the water around my mouth, I continued to observe the room. The thing that struck me most, as unusual, was the window made of glass and the hessian curtains covering it. When I made the mud hut for the orphanage, I built them without windows, or if they did have windows, they were merely small holes on the walls letting in light and air. Glass was considered too expensive.
I took a peek outside with my one good eye. I was fairly high up it appears – probably the 3rd story of a building?
A little further out, a small village revealed itself, with buildings made from a mixture of wood, mud and straw. Its people walked around minding their own business, merchants sold their wears and children ran around.
How quaint.
It didn't take a genius to realise that I was far from the sweet metropolis I called home. But I died, so that was explainable. Was this the afterlife? Hahaha! Maybe it's something like Bleach's Rukongai?
Although, more observations and experiments must be made before I can accurately call this place a 'Rukongai'.
The door to my room jiggled opened and a small child with white hair and dark skin came in, balancing a tray laden with what looked like bowls of salves and bandages, squeaking when he realised I was awake.
"Mister! You're awake!" I smiled at him; I had a soft spot for kids. They were just so cute, even the bratty ones.
This child piqued my interest; I have never seen someone with dark skin pigmentation have white hair. Blonde could have been passable (barely) on human genetic standards, but white hair with dark skin was unheard of. Did this kid bleach his hair or something?
I must be in Bleach after all! Laughing in my revelation I greeted the tyke.
"Hey buddy! Were you the one that was taking care of me?" I saw him place the tray down on the table and edge towards me, "If you did, you did a great job!" a brilliant blush appeared on his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"I helped mummy bandage you up and… and everything" he stammered quickly looking at the ground and shuffling his feet.
"Well you did a fine job of patching me up buddy." he beamed up at me and I laughed at his shyness "So where is your Mother? You should probably tell her I'm awake" He nodded and dashed out of the room yelling for the whole house to hear.
Not even five minutes later, a woman my age entered the room. She looked the same as the boy – White haired and dark skined. So it was genetic? She must have been very young when she had him then. What an interesting situation I've landed myself in. I think I'll have to seriously consider the possibility that I am not on earth… or the earth as I know it should be.
"Hello, it's nice to see you awake." She smiled. Actually now that she's smiling she looks a whole lot younger than me.
Ergh… I can't see very well with this one eye. The bandaged eye itches like there is no tomorrow and everything from my right eye is blurry.
"Thank you. If it wasn't for your help and kindness I doubt I'd be alive."
"I'd say!" she chuckled "My husband found you on our fields beaten to an inch of your life! You gave us all quite a scare."
"If there is anything I can do to repay you I'd -"
"Oh! No, no, you're alive and that's all that matters to me and my family! However, you should probably thank Healer Jah'Kobi when you feel better. He used up five healing staves trying to heal you!"
"Uh… five healing staves?" I stammered. Healing staves? What is she on about?
She must have taken my confusion for incredulousness for she continued on her rant. "Yes, Healer Jah'Kobi – Grima bless his soul – had to fix your… Well everything!" She madly gestured towards me, "We had to start with your punctured lung and skull! Thank Grima we were able to save your eye. If we didn't you'd be very blind right now. What happened to you anyway sir?"
"Oh, thank you very much; I simply must go to Healer Jah'Kobi as soon as possible to give him my thanks!" I smiled at her, there was something strangely amiss with what she was saying, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. Well, no use worrying right now, if my eye is good, does that mean I can take this itchy thing off?
"Um, if it's not much trouble, this eye has been troubling me with its itchiness ever since I've woken up, is it possible to unbandage it? I'd like the itching to stop, and well, it'd be nice to properly see you!" I laughed.
Her face, which had a wide smile on was now unreadable, "I think you are mistaken sir," her gaze quickly fell to the floor, in a way, it kind of reminded me of her son, how they both found the floor very interesting, very suddenly. "We were only able to save one eye, and that's the eye you are using sir."
Oh… okay, so I survive getting run over by a train, get pushed into a world that is most probably not Earth and lose my left eye, cos' my head was squished by said train. I was quite… shocked at my predicament, and so I express myself in the most eloquent way possible. "Well, that sucks."
The woman's face shot upwards towards me, I suppose she was ready to hear an outburst of no's or see me breaking down. But she was met with the opposite, I smiled at her.
"Do you remember what you said before? Well, you are right. As long as I'm alive, then, that's alright with me."
"You're a strong man for accepting your situation so quickly sir! Grima must have blessed you to live; no ordinary man would have survived whatever you've been through. I was ever so surprised to even find your pulse when I first saw you!"
"Yes, Grima must have blesse-" Wait. Be kind. Please rewind. Did she just say Grima!? "I'm sorry miss, but… where exactly am I?"
"You're currently in a small town called Korinth sir, if you were to walk west for several days you'll be in the capital, and, um this… this is my house."
"Sorry, but my head is a little bit fuzzy right now." I laughed awkwardly, her joining along. Soon after that… awkwardness, I continued on. "No, sorry, but this is an utmost serious matter… but can you tell me what country I am currently… situated in?"
"Why Plegia sir. You are Plegian right? You sound like you come from the capital." She said smiling almost whimsically.
Well… Shit.
I'm in Fire Emblem.
Way to go Atlas. You died and landed your stupid ass in some bad Self- Insert fic.
Not only that, but you didn't even land yourself in Ylisse!
Plegia! You end up in bloody Plegia of all places.
FML.