Awakening of the Priest
Prologue: Ashes to Ashes. Turn and Face the Strange... Ch-ch-changes!
"Chrom, we have to do something!" A female voice pleaded.
Where… am I? The last thing I remember was me gettin' smashed by that butler.
"What do you propose we do?" A male voice intoned.
I'm gonna open my eyes, and when I open them, I'll be home.
"I-I dunno…" the female voice stammered.
Anderson opened his eyes to see two people standing over him. One was a man who had dark cerulean hair, his face was strong and manly, yet the girl next to him looked like she had zero business being there in the first place. Her golden hair was worn in twin pigtails. She looked no older than thirteen or fourteen, while the man was easily pushing into his twenties.
There was also another person there in a long black coat with gold accents and purple markings. Her hair was short and a dark purple hue, falling over her right eye. It reminded him of the reports he got on the Millennium agents and the old, grainy picture of that Rip Van Winkle chick that shot a hole into his leg when his enemy decided it would be a GREAT idea to summon another army.
"I see you're awake now." The man greeted.
"Hey there!" The girl giggled.
"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground you know, give me your hand." The man ordered.
Alexander took the man's hand, he was hoisted up.
Alexander noticed that he was only wearing one glove, his Speak with Dead glove, to be exact.
There was a strange sigil glowing through it, it was a six-eyed symbol, glowing with dark magic.
"You all right?" The navy blue haired man asked him.
"Eh, could be better… Chrom." Alexander responded.
Chrom cocked his head in confusion, "Wait… you know my name?" He sputtered.
'Yeah, I heard it earlier from the lass… bu' I gotta play dumb…' Alex thought, coming back to reality.
"Huh? Do I?" Alexander wondered, trying to 'remember' where the name came from.
"So you know milord's name, but have not said your own?" an intimidating man in azure battle armor inquired, glaring at Alexander. He was on a heavily armored horse that looked just about as imposing as its rider did.
'Not that dumb!' Alex's mind chided.
"I honestly don't know… where am I?" Alexander asked Chrom.
"You haven't heard of the Halidom? HAH! Someone pay this actor, he plays quite the fool, that furrowed brow is especially convincing…" the Azure Knight chuckled.
"Frederick! That man has amnesia!" Lissa objected haughtily.
"Like the other one, we found today? How many amnesiacs would be lining up and knocking on our door then?" Frederick huffed as Anderson literally was about to say that he definitely didn't have amnesia and woke up in an entirely new place to him. He opted to introduce himself.
"Heh, that's sweet, lass. This old dog has seen things beyond this world. My name is Alexander Anderson of the Iscariot Order, " Alexander chuckled.
"Old dog? But… you're no older than I am!" Lissa gasped.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Alexander asked.
"As interesting as this all is, we should be going." Frederick huffed.
"Alright, I'm coming with you guys, if I fight alongside you all, would that prove that I have no ill intentions?" Alexander proposed.
"Well, Frederick… he's not wrong." Chrom reasoned.
"I just hope he's not a Plegian spy…" Frederick huffed.
"Plegian? What's that?" Alexander asked, taking inventory of what he had on him. His bayonets were still on him, but his warp book wasn't. He sighed and closed his coat.
The woman with odd dark purple hair stared at Anderson as they walked, her odd brown eyes seeming to bore into his soul like drills. She seemed as lost as she had said the exact same thing beat for beat.
"It's Yilisse's westerly neighbor, they've been poking into our halidom, trying to incite war," Chrom explained as they went along the road.
"It's the poor townspeople who suffer… totally innocent and totally helpless…" Lissa sighed sympathetically.
"I guess their ruler is one sadistic guy… I had to kill the undead, but there's nothin' like a sadistic ruler to bring down." He drawled, casually waving it off. The others turned to him in disbelief as Alexander shrugged. He smelled smoke on the air and whirled around to see a town, a plume of smoke rising into the air. His hands shook as he remembered that night in London. That horrible night when the last thing he saw when he died was the sun. The rush of wind was all he heard... and the only thing he heard from his rival. Was an Amen.
"Chrom, look, the town!" Lissa yelled,
"Alright, Alexander, you can put those skills to use," Chrom remarked.
Southtown was burning, "Alright, grab anything shiny and put the rest to the torch, we got to set an example for these Ylissean types, ain't that right lass?" Garrick drawled, pulling a girl close.
"Please, someone help!" The girl screamed.
Alexander unsheathed his bayonets, "I am no longer a paladin of Iscariot, but I can still kill in the name of my God." he growled, striding into town.
Garrick's men charged.
"AMEN!" Alexander cackled in high glee, slashing through the enemies alongside Chrom and Frederick. The fine red mist made his heart soar as he laughed maniacally, his viridian eyes darting around and finding more and more enemies to slash to bloody ribbons.
"He's a total madman!" Frederick yelled, blocking a strike with his shield.
Garrick readied his Killer Axe, "Here sheepy, come to the slaughter!" He roared, charging at Alexander.
"Fall into eternal hellfire, brigand, and suffer- for ye have killed and pillaged the work and people who were living in peace, now… DIE AND RID THIS WORLD OF YOUR FILTH!" Anderson intoned, crossing his blades and dodging Garrick's attack, he threw his bayonets into Garrick's body. Garrick swung his wide and dangerous ax, cleaving into Anderson's soft spot between his shoulder and arm as it fell limp. He grabbed the shaft of the ax.
"Y'know... I just woke up, met four other people and already things are goin' straight to hell... so- snip... snip," Anderson crooned, forcing the ax out of his arm as the muscle and bone knitted together as he smiled and hefted the ax up
"Gahh!" Garrick screamed, before Anderson, in one swift motion like a golfer, slammed the ax into his chest.
"Amen…" Alexander murmured.
Where am I then?
I died, I'm younger, and now I'm stuck here?
"Ooh wow, Alexander! That was amazing! The way he was all like, 'grah ha!' and you were all like, 'Fall into eternal hellfire!' Then your blades came out and you were all like, 'Shoo…' and he was all like, 'Gahhh!'" Lissa related, smiling up at him widely as her wide gray eyes looked up at him in admiration.
She reminded him of someone… someone with the same golden hair and wide eyes, someone that bastard of a vampire had as a little pet… was her name Seras?
"Hold, Anderson, I have some questions for you… in fact, both I and milord have questions," Frederick said, barring him from making a quiet exit.
"About what, Sir Frederick?" Alexander asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What is this… 'Iscariot Order' and why do you fight like that? You have no armor, yet I saw that during the battle you sustained wounds," Chrom asked.
"Well, if you all must know… in my world, I was part of a secret army called Iscariot, where we were the insurmountable last line of defense for the believers of God! On the night of my… displacement, I learned that only men could kill monsters… and that God cannot always save you. But someone out there must've given me a second go…" Alexander sighed.
"But you didn't answer the question about the wounds," Lissa reminded.
"I can regenerate and negate wounds against my body, lass. Not all of them, though…" he sighed.
All of them looked at him in shock as he just took it casually. He had long since been used to explaining all of it verbatim. Even down to the tone and stance.
"Do any of ya have a mirror?" he asked, as Lissa produced one and he looked into it.
What he saw was his face, youthful and with his scar from before he became a regenerator, his face was somewhat absent of facial hair. His hair was longer than it'd ever been ever since he joined the Church. The scars from the Casull and Jackal shots were gone as well. He moved his coat and shirt as a new scar was there where Garrick had sliced him.
'It's so odd... I can't believe that I'm young again, how did that happen?' he thought, adjusting his glasses as everything with them on was blurry, he took them off as he could see perfectly fine without them. His body was back in its prime again. There was no time to dawdle, however...
A.N: I hope you all liked it.