The Ylissean army was repelled by combined might of the Plegian army and the Grimleal's sorcerers, but the fighting did not end that night. Conflict between the two nations continued as one struggled to defend itself against the attacks of the other, resulting in a war that would surely last for several years. So long as Exalt Albus XIII was alive, there would never be peace and more people would die.

It was a time of mourning.

The days that followed Farryn's death were silent and painful. Gangrel and Annette were both too heartbroken to speak, the boy staying in bed most of the time and the shopkeeper busying herself more than usual with her work.

Gangrel didn't know where his mother was buried. Annette had told him that she was placed in a grave outside the castle town, just like the many people who had also died because of the Ylisseans. He wanted to put flowers on her grave, but there were no flowers to give and he didn't know how to get there, not that his aunt would let him.

It was clear that Annette was afraid of losing him too. She rarely allowed him to leave the shop without her. She was also making plans for them to leave Plegia as soon as possible.

"Most of my family are traveling merchants," she said during one of the few times they both felt like talking. "We could go and stay with one of my aunts in Ferox. It's cold there, they say, but it would be far away from here. Then we can be free from this war..."

However, Gangrel didn't want to leave. Plegia was the only country he had ever lived in and the idea of leaving upset him. How could he visit his mother's grave if they went all the way to Ferox?

Annette could leave if she wanted, but he was going to stay.

One day, while his aunt was busy checking her inventory, Gangrel snuck out of the loft and left the shop. All he had taken with him were the new clothes his mother had given him, the special stone that once belonged to his father, and an old yellow shawl that he wore like a cape. He had no food and no money because there had not been a chance to sneak some into his pockets without Annette noticing.

But he had only been gone for a few hours when he began to regret his decision to run away. It wasn't like he was that far from home. He had only gone as far as the marketplace. He could turn around at any point and apologize for worrying his aunt, assuming she had noticed his absence.

No, he had to put more effort into running away than that! He could make it on his own. He didn't need Annette.

Unfortunately, he was very wrong about that.

All Gangrel had done was swipe a bun from the bakery, but he had been obvious enough that the baker had noticed and called after him to return the baked good before he regretted it.

Before, all that would have happened was that a couple guards would have chased after him and, if he was able to hide quickly enough, he would wait until they gave up and went back to their rounds. Then he would have been free to eat in peace. That was what he remembered the thieves doing back when he was with his mother while she peddled her wares. But that wasn't the case now. There were more guards than before because of how many people were in the castle town and he was caught before he even had a chance to flee the marketplace.

Gangrel was taken away and tossed in a cell before he could understand what was happening. His special stone was confiscated, but he was allowed to keep his clothes and shawl since he had been wearing them at the time. Otherwise, he he'd have nothing.

He had no idea where he was being kept, but he assumed it was underground. There were no windows and the air was chilly. It felt like the passages beneath the city that Annette had lead him and his mother to in order to stay safe during the attacks.

Annette…

He was a horrible child. His aunt loved him, and he gave that up because he had been too stupid to see that she wanted the best for him. Ferox was probably a perfectly fine place, but he would never get a chance to figure that out for himself. He was probably going to die in that dungeon.

Days turned into weeks, and Gangrel was still in the cell. A bowl of tasteless mush was brought to him each morning—at least, he thought it was morning—along with a bowl of water. It was enough to keep him alive but not fill his belly. That way he wouldn't have the energy to escape, so said one guard to the other at some point. Half-dead prisoners were easier to deal with.

Why were they bothering to keep him alive at all?

The answer came in the form of a tall, dark stranger.

"My, my, if it isn't the little thief I've heard about..."

Gangrel, half-asleep as he sat with his back against the wall, opened his eyes and saw the shadowy silhouette of a man, dressed in flowing robes and sun-bleached bones, with his hands behind his back.

"What is your name, child?" asked the man with a smile.

"...Gangrel…" he murmured, surprised he could speak at all.

"Do you know why you have been brought here?"

"...I...stole some...bread…"

"Is that all?" asked the man, raising an eyebrow.

"...Hm…?"

Gangrel didn't understand what the man meant. He hadn't stolen anything else.

"I said, is that all?" asked the man again. He then brought his hands out from behind his back and revealed Gangrel's special stone. "I was informed that you had this with you when you were arrested. Tell me, child, who did you steal this from?"

"...Didn't steal…"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I didn't...steal it," said Gangrel with what little force he could muster. "My...mum….gave it to...me."

"And where is your mother?"

"...Dead…" said Gangrel, his voice becoming quite again.

"My condolences," said the man, frowning. "Many children are without their mothers during troubled times such as these. Did she perish in the attack?"

For a moment, Gangrel wondered if he should be honest and explain that his mother had died of an infection, but decided against it. That was none of the man's business. It was that war priest's fault, anyway, so it wasn't a lie, really.

"...Yes…"

"I see. Very well, I will return this stone to you, but on one condition: you must come with me."

Gangrel became more confused. What could the strange man want with him?

"Why? What...will happen...if I don't?"

The man's smile became wider. "You will atone for your sins with your life."

Atone?

So he was kept alive in order to be executed. He had thought that only murderers and the like were put to death for their crimes, but it seemed that any crime was punishable with death now.

He didn't want to die.

"Okay," Gangrel said, looking the man in the eyes. "I'll go."

"Excellent," responded the man with a nod of approval. "Now, sleep and regain your strength. I will explain everything when you awaken." He then extended a hand, which was emitting a faint purple light, toward Gangrel and uttered words that the boy couldn't understand.

Suddenly, Gangrel felt sleepy, and, before he could say anything more, he passed out.

Gangrel awoke laying on something as soft as he imaged a cloud would be. In truth, it was simply the mattress of a four poster bed with velvet curtains and soft linens. He had never slept or even sat on something as nice as this before, so it was quite the surprise.

Moreover, he wondered how he had gotten there in the first place.

Before he had a chance to explore the room, which was big and decorated with fancy furniture, tapestries, and rugs, the door opened and an elderly man in the robes of a Fell Priest entered.

"Ah, good morning, Lord Gangrel. I hope you slept well?"

"Uh..." Gangrel was taken aback by the title, but went along with what the old man had said instead of asking any of the many questions bouncing around in his head. "Yeah, I did."

"Good, good. Now, it is time to get ready. The Hierophant wishes to speak with you."

The Hierophant? What did the leader of the Grimleal want with him? What did he do? Did this have to do with the strange man from the dungeon?

"Um, what do I have do to get ready?"

"Why, you must bathe and dress appropriately. It would not do to have an audience with anyone as you are now. Ah, and you must eat as well."

As nice as a hot bath and clean clothes sounded, Gangrel was more excited about getting food.

"Okay…" Gangrel climbed off the bed, but had to quickly grab hold of the nightstand to keep himself from falling over.

"Do you require assistance?" asked the old man, concerned.

"I-I'm fine," he insisted, determined to get from the bed to the table in the middle of the room by himself. "Just do what you were doing."

"As you wish." The old man bowed and went to see to the preparations.

After a lot of stumbling and nearly falling over once, Gangrel managed to take a seat at the table and watched as two acolytes, women this time, heated the water for his bath and filled the tub in the small bathroom adjoined to the bedroom. Then, one of them laid out clothing for him to change into after his bath. Meanwhile, the other brought him a bowl of rice stewed in vegetables and chicken and a glass of water.

He had no idea of what to think about any of this.

"Milord," said one of the acolytes after everything was ready, "we will leave you to eat and prepare yourself for you audience with the Hierophant. Do you require anything else?"

"No, I'm fine," said Gangrel, not taking his eyes away from the food as he spoke. He was so hungry.

The acolytes curtsied and took their leave.

Gangrel really had no idea of what to think about any of this.

First he woke up in a fancy room. Then the priest and acolytes were talking to him as if he was someone important, like a noble. What was next? Oh, yeah, he had to meet with the Hierophant.

It was a lot to think about and he didn't know where to start, so he decided to focus on getting ready like the old man had said to do.

After he finished his meal, Gangrel cleaned and dressed himself as best he could, glad to be free of dirt and grime for the first time in weeks. However, he was also sad because the clothes that his mother had given him were ruined. They were so stained that he wasn't sure whether it was possible to clean them.

Just then, he heard the door open and the old man entered.

"Lord Gangrel, are you ready?"

"Yes." He turned around to face the old man while holding his dirty clothes. "Can these be washed?"

"Let me see…" The old man stepped forward and took a closer look. "I think they are beyond the point of being salvaged. They will have to be disposed of."

"They will?"

"Yes," said the old man with a nod. "Now, just leave them here and they will be taken care of while you are gone. We must get going."

Gangrel nodded and dropped his clothes on the ground in a heap. He then stepped over them as he went to follow the old man.

After leading Gangrel down several marble corridors and stairways, the old man stopped outside a set of double doors, black in colour and bearing the Eyes of Grima, and gestured for him to enter the room.

"Do I have to go in by myself?" asked Gangrel, suddenly feeling nervous.

The old man simply nodded.

The room was immense yet dimly lit, the only light coming from the evening sun shining through the stained glass window, which depicted the Fell Dragon, across from the doors. It was richly decorated with rugs and tapestries on the floor and walls, bookshelves all around, and a large desk in front of the window.

Seated at the desk was the tall, dark man. He was resting his elbows on the desk and his chin on his hands. It seemed that he had been expecting Gangrel.

"You're the Hierophant?" Gangrel blurted out, unable to stop himself.

"I am indeed," the man replied, smiling. "However, I would prefer that you call me Validar."

"A-as you wish," said Gangrel, doing his best to sound respectful.

"No need to be nervous, child. Please, sit, and we shall discuss something of importance."

Gangrel crossed the room and sat in the chair opposite Validar, feeling very small compared to the Hierophant. This was not the place for a child like him. He didn't belong there.

"Do you know where we are?" asked Validar.

Gangrel shook his head.

"We are in the Grimleal Enclave, the home of the Hierophant—that is, myself—and the Fell Circle. And, as of now, it is your home as well."

Gangrel's eyebrows went up and his jaw went slack. "Why...?"

"Plegia is in need of a new ruler and I think you would be a suitable candidate."

"Huh?" he asked, dumbstruck.

Validar chuckled at his confusion, and said, "This nation and its people can only survive if it follows the path laid before it by the stars and planets. That is its fate."

"But why me?"

"I once spoke with an oracle who claimed that a red-haired youth with fire in his eyes would be the one to lead Plegia to a new age." Validar leaned forward in his chair. "And looking at you, I can see more than fire. Instead, I see lightning."

"What does that mean?"

"Your determination will know no bounds. That is a good trait to have." Validar rose from his seat and turned away from Gangrel to look through the window. The room had become even dimmer since the sun set lower. "King Salvador is a foolish man. He thinks that the Exalt can be reasoned with, but we all know that the brutish ruler of Ylisse would rather slaughter us all than see reason."

"But what does this have to do with me?" said Gangrel, standing up as well. "I'm just a kid! I don't know how to rule anything!"

Oracles? Lighting? Determination? None of it made sense.

Suddenly, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, Validar was standing before Gangrel and glaring down at him.

"Should I have left you in that dungeon to rot, child?" he snarled. "I had thought that you would be clever enough to take this opportunity without hesitation. You will have power and prestige beyond anything you could have hoped to attain on your own. This is a gift that the gods give rarely."

Gangrel stepped away from the man, stumbled, and fell back into his seat. He was too afraid to speak. He was scared of what he thought Validar was going to do to him.

But Validar didn't do anything. Instead, he let out a low laugh and said, "Perhaps I am expecting too much from you, child. Your life is changing faster than you can comprehend and, in my selfishness, I have asked you, a poor orphan, to rule a kingdom. It must be a terrifying thought..."

While Validar was speaking, Gangrel had calmed down, but he still felt uneasy.

Gangrel wanted to refuse Validar. He desperately wanted to go home and be with Annette again, but there was no way that was going to happen. The Hierophant would never allow him to leave, unless it involved going back to the dungeon to die. There was only one option for him to take.

"I'll do it," he mumbled. "I'll be a good king."

"Excellent." Validar walked around his desk reached into the drawer to retrieve a dark red stone. Gangrel's special stone. "As I promised, here is the stone that your mother gave you. May your actions as our future monarch make her proud."

Gangrel reached for the stone and, once it was in his hands, clutched it to his chest like his life depended on it.

"Now, it is time for you to return to your quarters. We will discuss what needs to be done tomorrow."

The elderly priest from before was the one to return Gangrel to his room, leaving the boy there for the rest of the night after making sure that his needs were tended to and bidding him a good night.

However, the room, which had seemed so nice when Gangrel first woke up, now scared him. It felt too big and empty and almost everything was in shadow because sun had set and the lamps were not lit. Not knowing what else to do, Gangrel crawled into bed and hid beneath the covers, hoping that he would be safe there.

Sleep did not come easy for him that night. The only thing that kept him calm was his special stone, which glowed faintly in the darkness and felt warm in his hands. And he was never going to part with it again. It was all he had left to remember his mother. It was all he had left to remember his old life.

Author's Note:

Heyo! Thanks for the review, follow, and faves last chapter.

The third and last chapter will be posted on March 16, which happens to be Gangrel's birthday. Isn't it awesome when things work out so nicely?

Remember, feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged! Seriously, don't be afraid to leave a review. It would make my day if you left one.

Cheers,
Brenna Snow

P.S. Also, for those who are wondering "The heck is up with that rock?" and are cool with the idea of F!Robin/Gangrel, go check out Here Be Dragons: Memento Mori. It's the first part of a trilogy I'm planning. It's also part of an overarching AU I'm developing. See my profile for more details.