Damn it, my everything hurts now. I sit up and shake my head. Rough wool blankets fall off of me. Wait a second... Nope, no second bunk over my head. Definitely not back home. Deep breaths, don't panic. Just grab your phone and-
Pockets. There are none in these pants. I throw the blanket off of me. I'm wearing an unidentifiable fabric shirt, and the pants are definitely leather, and the belt looks nice. I reach up to my face... Alright, glasses are gone. I run my tongue across my teeth. Braces are gone as well.
What the hell? I collapse on my bed after getting home from a trip, close my eyes for, what, five minutes? Where the hell did I end up teleporting off to? I get up off of the bed and start walking around. The place has absolutely no modern conveniences. It's like I'm back in Horseshoe, only it's worse, yet better because I'm not sitting in a tent huddled around a propane flame and eating boiled hotdogs.
Bed, cot, closet. I pick up the picture sitting on the bedside table. It's a hand-painted picture of a man and woman. The woman doesn't look familiar at all, but, somehow, the man seems a bit familiar.
"Good, you're awake." A gruff voice sounds behind me. I turn on my heel and see... an older version of the man from the picture. Black hair from his head creeps along the sides of his face to join a beard. His neck seems impossibly thick, and he's wearing some leather armor. I'm honestly amazed that I can see any of this without my glasses, since usually I'm restricted to blurs at ten feet without them.
"Yeah, I'm awake." I say, still not sure how I got here. Mind starts racing, but I keep enough of a hold on it to realize I'm still clueless. "Now, could you tell me where I am, exactly? I got lost on my travels."
The man cracks a smile. "Kinda young to be off on your own, don't you think?"
I shrug. "Sixteen's not that young, in my opinion, but we're getting off topic." Unless I've suddenly regressed a year or two.
The man nods. "Well, when we picked your living carcass up, you were in the mountain pass. Right now, you're in a village on the east side of the Ide mountain range."
Ide... why the hell does that ring a bell in my head? "Thanks for helping me out, then." I say. "Did I still have my things on me?"
He nods. "Yeah. You had a pack with you, and some gear." He walks into the closet, and comes back out with a leather backpack, a waterskin, a hatchet, a sheathed knife, and a small sack that clinked when it hits the wood floor. I scoop up the items, going over them as though I was checking to make sure that it was all there. The sack has a few gold coins in it. I realized that I was probably asleep right now, and this was all a dream. Well, why not play it out? The waterskin was empty, and the pack didn't have anything in it except for a leather-bound book and a stick of graphite bound in coarse string. Note to self – writing can stave off insanity in a pinch.
"Looks like it's all there." I say, donning the gear. "Does my rescuer have a name?"
The man nods. "Yes, I'm-"
The door to the house blows open, and another person, this one looking to be a bit younger than myself, bursts in. He has black hair too, and is wearing a leather headband and what looks like light leather armor. "Dad!" He practically yells. "Bandits approaching!"
In stark contrast to his son's actions, the man keeps his calm, something I mentally commend him on. "Ross, I'm getting you out of here." He turns to me. "If you want to live, you should come with us."
I nod. "Will we need to fight our way out?" I ask.
He nods, and grabs an impressive looking axe from where it sat over the doorframe. I hand off the hatchet to the kid, and take the knife out of its sheath. I look to the man, and nod. Then, we start to run.
It's a quaint little village. In any other time, I don't think I'd really mind staying here. But right now, the screams of panicked townspeople make it a little hard to want to call the place home. I'm at the back of the group, following instead of leading because I have absolutely no idea where the hell I'm going. We're just bull-rushing right down the main road, trying to get the hell out of Dodge. Oddly enough, the hip injury that I got from middle school track doesn't seem to mind me running at a full sprint right now. Dream physics aren't that bad.
There's a pair of shirtless dudes blocking the gate of the village, and each of them's got an axe on them. Suddenly, the knife in my hand feels woefully inadequate.
The bandits notice us, and charge back. Three on two. I like these odds.
Go in, use that agility to get around behind the first one, then SHIT HE TURNED AROUND! Duck the axe, kick the leg out from under- Shit that's like a brick wall! Incoming axe! ROLL! ROLL! Get back up, where is he- OH GOD THAT HURT! Roll out of the way, try to get the air back in your lungs. Shit, that hurt.
That hurt... I can get hurt... I can die... This is real... Shit.
Look up, he's coming back! Alright, stay calm. Timing is everything. Wait for it... NOW! Jump, turn, his axe just planted itself into those timbers. Foot finds another building, plants, leaps off! Knife's out as he turns...
And with the blade between his collarbone and shoulderblade, angled into his windpipe, I can say without a doubt that if he's not dead yet, he will be soon. The blade comes out with a sucking sound that nearly makes me vomit, and good lord now there's blood everywhere. That's his blood. Oh, fuck, I just killed a guy. Calm down, Andrew. Deep breaths. Turn around, look for the the guy and his kid.
Oh, they're running. Well, I should probably follow them, shouldn't I?
Ah, shit, kid's bleeding. That's not another guy- alright, some of it is, but I think that most of it is his. He took a really nasty cut to his shoulder. Kid's trying to shrug it off, Dad's not buying it, and starts yelling for help.
Meanwhile, I start going through all of the changes. Eyes are practically 20/20 now, that's nice. Braces are gone. Hip's fine. The whole 'AS' thing is still up there in the head, but I don't see that as a problem to be fixed, anyways.
Looking back, all those 'fights' I had with Thomas seem to have paid off. I'm not totally useless out here, though I'd be more of a help if I could get my hands on a sword. Knives were always his thing- okay, anything that he could fit into a pocket is his thing, but- Brain! Think here! Not there!
Hey, flapping. I look towards the source and see... Alright, that's a pegasus. Those exist, apparently. It comes down into the run down fortress that we holed up in, and the rider seems to relax a bit.
"I'm here to help." She says. Garcia (we exchanged names while running) hands off Ross to the rider. I get a good look at her. More familiarity, still no solid answers.
She flies off, and another pair of bandits makes their debut. Two on two... slightly less favorable odds.
They charge. Fight or die, Andrew. Fight or- hey, that one's down. Garcia picks his big axe back up. I'm just as surprised as the surviving bandit. I recover quicker, though. Charge right in, bandit collects himself and charges back. I roll off to the side, bandit follows...
Another one bites the dust. Garcia takes his second hand axe out of the bandit's back, then retrieves the first one. "Just how many of those things do you have?" I ask, getting up.
He shakes his head. "Just the two."
Peg comes back, and I tell her to take the father. "Your son." I tell him. He nods, gets on, and they fly off. Then she comes back, picks me up, and we're off. We go over the cliff, and I get a good look at the area, and I see WHY THE FUCK IS IS SO FAMILIAR?
We set back down on the other side, near some villages that managed to close their gates in time. Looking ahead, I see an armored knight with a freaking tree trunk for a lance, a pair of cavaliers, a priest with a staff, and a blue haired-
Oh.
So that's how it is, huh? Well, could be worse. Could've been another one of those Awakening Self-Inserts. Haven't played vanilla Sacred Stones in a while, but I'm still pretty familiar with the storyline. Well, that explains a lot. Still not sure how the hell I got here, but no point in complaining, though I offhandedly wonder about my class, bases and growths. This is one of the easier Fire Emblem Games, so I'm not too worried. Just Arena Grind Seth at the Serafew arena, build up a huge bank account, and STOP! THIS IS REAL! NOT GAME MECHANICS! Permadeath is a thing, and there is no reset, no restart.
Push it to the back, there's a battle to fight. First, to get a better weapon. Head to the armory. Dude's got brown hair, green shirt, leather vest. "What's going on out there?" He asks.
"Bandits." Comes my (somehow not shaky) reply. "I need a sword, and I need it now." I toss my coin sack onto the counter, and lay my knife down as well. "Something light. I don't care if this is enough. I'll pay later."
The man nods, heads back into the armory, and comes back out with... oh, so that's what a Slim Sword looks like. Three-and-a-half feet long, with the hilt adding another three-fourths. Blade itself is barely more than a centimeter across. Picking it up, it doesn't feel very heavy. My backpack is heavier, and this actually has weight distribution.
He puts the scabbard for the sword on the counter as well. "Kick their asses," he says, "and the sword's on the house."
I nod, fasten scabbard to my belt, put the knife back on my thigh, grab the coins, and head back out the door. Out the door, sword's drawn and ready to SHIT THAT'S A BANDIT! Fight now!
Dodge the attack, go for the femoral! Yes! Got him!
Shit! He's still coming! Alright, backpedal. Watch the footwork, watch the eyes... there!
Dodge around his charge, go for the arm... YES! There goes his triceps. Follow up! Go for the neck, feel a thud as the sword embeds into his vertebrae. Pull the sword out of the corpse, turn to see...
Huh, guess that the battle's over. Everyone's migrating to that fort in the middle of the pass.
"You saved my son." Garcia says. "I owe you my thanks."
Eirika shakes her head. "It's not necessary."
Seth's eyes narrow, then go wide again in recognition. "You're the Great Garcia, aren't you? You fought for Renais."
Garcia sighs. "It's been a while since anyone's called me that." Garcia said.
"Seth," Eirika asks, "do you know this man?"
Seth shakes his head. "Not personally, but I know of him. Until about ten years ago, he was a troop commander in Renais' army. When I was a recruit, the soldiers told so many stories about him, but all of them portrayed him as a daring and fearless fighter." Seth looks back to Garcia. "Garcia, you must know about the peril that our homeland faces right now. Would you be able to find it in you to take up arms for her once again?"
Garcia sighs. "I'm sorry. I'm retired now. I decided long ago that the life of a soldier wasn't what I wanted. When I was a soldier, I lived my life as a soldier. My very existence served to fight for Renais' honor, fighting for faceless, uncaring nobles... and in doing so, I left no time for my family. Every now and then, I'd secure some time and come back home, but..."
Is he... crying? That's intense.
"When my wife fell ill and died, I met the child that she'd left behind, the child I'd neglected, and I realized what my duty to those faceless nobles had cost me. I stood at my wife's grave, and swore that I'd be a father to our son." He shakes his head. "I'm done with armies and the honor of nations. I'm done with fighting, unless it's to keep my son safe."
And mood ruined in three, two, one...
"You idiot!" Ross yells, shocking everyone. "What kind of idiotic bullshit are you spewing?" He shakes his head. "You-"
"Ross, what are you-"
"No, dad!" Ross says, interrupting his father's interruption. Is that interruption-ception? "I respect you more than anyone. You gave up your soldier's life for me, and I get that, but you're a fighter, dad! It's what you do! It's in your blood! You can't just give it up and go on with your life!"
"Have you seen me fight, dad?" Ross asks. "I'm your son, the son of the Great Garcia, and I'm a warrior just like you! You can worry about me all that you want, but the fact is that I can survive on my own!"
"Ross, I-"
"Do you want to challenge me, dad?" Ross asks, grabbing his hatchet. "I won't lose! I'm the best fighter in Ide! I won't lose to you, or to anyone!"
Garcia smiles. "You're right, Ross." Garcia looked back to Seth. "Seth, right? Well, Sir Seth, so long as there's breath in my lungs and blood in my veins, I'd like to serve." He pats Ross' shoulder. "It looks like my son grew up when I wasn't looking. He's tough, just like his father. I've raised him as best as I could, but he's right: Worrying won't get me anywhere."
Well, that's done. "And what about you?" Seth asks, looking at me. "What's your story?"
Shit. How do I explain my existence in non-videogame terms?
"I'm Andrew. I'm a wanderer." I explain, thinking fast. "A loner. Been that way most of my life."
"A mercenary?" Eirika asks.
That works. "Well, sorta. More of a jack-of-all-trades, a handyman. But yes, I've done a bit of mercenary work."
"Kinda young for a mercenary." Seth points out.
"You're really going to say that after the speech that Ross pulled?" I ask incredulously. "Anyways, I was in a border town collecting pay when Grado soldiers started marching in. I got in a bit of trouble when they tried to disarm me, and I've been on the run since."
Seth nods. He probably doubts my story, but Eirika seems to believe it readily. "At any rate, I've come to like Renais and her people, and I'm not about to let Grado's troops walk all over them." I look to Eirika, and give her my best 'determined' look. "Keep me or get rid of me. I'll keep fighting. Choice is entirely up to you."
Eirika smiles. "Andrew, it'd be an honor to have you fight with us. Money might be a bit of a problem, but-"
I hold up my hand. "I might be a mercenary, but I'm also a person. I won't stand by idly while Grado's troops do whatever they please." I look up. "No charge."
Eirika nods. "Then welcome aboard, Andrew!"