Dragon Quest VIII: Journey of the Cursed King and all it's characters are owned by Square Enix, not me. However, I DO own all of the many original characters that appear in this fic. Those characters may not be used without my permission.

Dragon Quest VIII: Journey of the Cursed King

The Greatest Templar

by Cyberweasel89

Chapter 1

Meet the Crew

Emily's Narrations

13 years have passed since I arrived at the abbey and was immediately made a Templar. Do the math, and I'm now 21. That makes Abbot Kukule 79, and Captain Marco 38. Abbot Kukule hasn't aged a bit, but Captain Marco has gotten a few wrinkles and put on a little bit of weight. Of course, I'd never dare say anything about it.

As I was raised as a Templar, I was taught to use a sword by the best sword-wielding templar, Gerik. Through the years of my stay, I've trained enough to be able to lift the bastard sword very easily, much to Captain Marco's surprise. During my 13 years here, Captain Marco has insisted, and made sure, that I was treated no different than the other, male, Templars. I was given the same blue templar uniform, silver rosary, and Templar's ring as them, had to sleep in the same room as them, eat with them, and train with them. Captain Marco even, at one point, insisted that I bathe with them, but luckily, Abbot Kukule managed to step in and make sure this didn't happen.

I'm not much of a looker. I have long brown hair that goes down to below my shoulder blades. My eyes are about the same shade of dark brown as my hair. I'm skinny, with a light skin tone and a bit of muscle from the rigorous training, but not too much. My breasts aren't really "big", but I'm not flat, either. Well, not like you can tell my bust size when I'm wearing the Templar uniform. I'm not beautiful, but I'm definitely not ugly. I'm just... really plain. Still, being the only girl here at the Abbey, I used to get quite a few pinches from the other male Templars. That is, until they learned not to mess with me. Now only the most foolish Templars try.

Right now, it's lunchtime at the Abbey. I managed to befriend four Templars here, and I tend to only sit at a table with them.

"H-h-hi, Em! M-mind if I sssssssit with you?

"Mako, you ask me that everyday. Haven't you realized yet that we're all friends?"

That's Makoto, age 20. He's probably the nicest out of my four friends. He's also one of my roommates.

"Heh. Ssssssorry, E-em."

Makoto uses a wooden shortbow. He dresses in the usual blue templar's uniform with a silver rosary and a Templar's ring. The Templar's Ring is standard for all Templars. It's silver in color, except for the insignia, which is a red rosary. Just as I brought my Slime Earrings, the one item that Makoto brought with him was a strange ring with a praying angel on it. He's a little taller than me and, judging by his hands, he's about my complexion. I judge his complexion by his hands because it's hard to see his face clearly. He wears a brown hood made of fur with white, fluffy edges. The hood hides his face in shadows somewhat, and the fact that he's always looking downward helps in shrouding his face in shadows. But I can tell that he has crimson red eyes. I just have no clue what his hair color is.

One day, soon after he came, some of the other Templars were making fun of his severe stutter, and I stood up for him. We've been friends ever since.

"..."

"H-hey, Zal! C-c-c'mon and ssssssit down!"

This next guy is Zalman, age 19. He's an elf, with a mop top of purple hair with a low-set ponytail. Because of his big, thick glasses, I can't tell what his eye color is. His eye level is about equal to my chin, so he's kinda short. He wears a blue templar's uniform with a silver rosary and a Templar's ring. His headgear is a round, blue hat with a point on the top. Hanging from this point is a red tassel. He brought with him to the Abbey a rather strange ring. It's comprised of two thin rings that are connected through a pattern of vines, all gold. There's a green gem set into it, and there are numerous thin little gems hanging from it.

Zalman's a spellcaster, and he fights with a wooden staff with a red orb on top. The red orb looks like it's being held by four clawed fingers. He doesn't talk much. When he does talk, it's in a very quiet voice. He's my other roommate.

I suddenly felt a hand on my butt. I turned around and slugged the guy in the face.

"Ow! You didn't have to hit me that hard! It was just a joke!"

It was Galahad! He's another one of my friends, age 22. He's a big pervert.

"You gotta quit doing that, Gala. It's hazardous to your health." I told him.

Galahad took a seat at the table with Makoto, Zalman, and me.

"Nothing I can't handle." He said blandly.

Galahad is tall and skinny with a light skin tone. My eye level is about equal to his nose. His light blue hair is long and straight, going halfway down his back. His eyes are handsome and a light orange color. I've seen him without his shirt, and he's got some muscle, but still kinda skinny. Like all of us, he wears the standard blue Templar uniform with the templar ring and the silver rosary. But he wears an odd, soft-looking white hat with two green feathers sticking out of the rim, each on opposite sides of the hat. He also has an odd item he brought with him when he first came to the abbey. It's an odd blue ring with gold bordering the rim. In the center is a circle with a gold rosary depicted in it, and a tiny red jewel is set into the side of the ring. I asked him about it once, and he said that it's a "wonderful little trinket" that allows him to "stand in the face of death and laugh," or something. He fights with a brown leather whip.

"Heya, guys."

Ah, yes. That deep, dumbfounded voice is Brogan, age 23. I must tell you, he's not the brightest of the bunch. He fights with a wooden mallet. I guess he knows that he's not very bright, so he chooses to rely on his strength, which is why he chose to work with hammers. Now, I must say that Brogan is perhaps that tallest, burliest guy I've ever met. Galahad's eye level is about equal to the middle of Brogan's neck. His Templar uniform had to be specially tailored to suit his height and muscular physique. He wears an ugly hardhat that looks as if he took a bowl made of stone, tied a string to both ends, and put it on his head. He also has a brown belt with gray pads on the hips and a metal buckle. He says that the belt makes him stronger, or somethin'.

"I couldn't find the table." Brogan stated, taking a seat next to Galahad.

Galahad rolled his eyes. "Brogan, you do know that we eat at this same table every day, right?"

Brogan seemed slightly surprised. "Really? Oh, I guess I'll have to try and remember that."

Over the years, I've changed. No longer am I the shy, innocent little girl that first arrived here. I've been toughened from being a knight, as well as from having to live with an abbey full of men.

The Basement.

I stood there, panting, my sword in my hands with the tip resting on the ground. Gerik stood across from me in the cell, sheathing his sword. He had only barely broken a sweat.

"Very good, Emily. If we continue this training, you shall soon surpass even my skill." he casually stated, examining one of his nails. His voice suddenly went a bit more high-pitched as he said "Ooo... Drat!"

"What... is it?" I asked while trying to catch my breath from the rigorous workout.

"Goddessdarnit, I broke a nail! Ooo... Now I need to give myself another manicure! Fooey." he cleared his throat, his voice returning to the slightly deeper version from before. "Anyway, might as well continue. How about another go, Miss Apprentice." he smirked at me.

"Sure... Just... Gimme some time... To rest." I said through pants.

Before I knew it, his golden-yellow blade was at my neck.

"Hm hm... The enemy would never give you some time to rest. On your feet, soldier." he smirked.

Let me tell you a little about Gerik. He's got long brown hair in a low-set ponytail that goes down to his waist. His eyes are a sky blue color. He's skinny and a little taller than me. My eye level is about at his nose. Of course, he wears a blue templar's uniform complete with templar ring and silver rosary, but he has a yellow bandana worn over his head. He's one of the more... eccentric templars. You might've guessed it by now, but I'll explain later. Lets just say that he's acted as both mentor and mother to me.

I stood up, still breathing a little heavily. Gerik took an idle stance, while I stood with my blade held out in front of me, ready to go on the defensive. At some unseen signal, he lunged at me, striking at my chest. I quickly blocked with my blade, creating the sound of metal striking metal. A few sparks flew as the blades connected. Next, he spun around to strike at my left side (Gerik is left-handed, by the way). I rolled out of the way of his blow. This time I lunged at him, my blade held above and to the side, ready for a downward diagonal slash. He merely sidestepped my strike, then crouched low and spun his legs under mine, knocking me off my feet and onto my rear.

His voice took that high-pitched tone, and he seemed concerned. "Oh my. Are you all right, honey? Oh dear, you seem to have landed on your tushie. I didn't mean to, sweetie." His voice got deep again, this time he sounded serious "At any rate, you don't seem to be in top form right now, Emily."

"That's because I'm exhausted! We've been practicing for three hours straight! And it's almost dinner time!" I cried out from my position on the ground.

His voice went high-pitched again. "Oh dear, I see what you mean, punkin'. Why don't we take a little break for some tea? Would you like that, dear?" he offered a hand to help me up, which I accepted.

"Yes, some tea would be nice. But can I just have some water?" I asked, breathing heavy.

"Of course, honey!" he smiled a loving smile at me.

We sat at the table in the basement. Gerik was quietly sipping a cup of tea with his pinkie finger sticking out, while I guzzled a cup of water. He set his cup down to look at me.

"Dear, you shouldn't drink so fast. You'll get."

"Hiccup!"

"Hiccups..."

"I can't he-hiccup-lp it! I'm dehy-hiccup-drated!" I cried, afterwards returning to drinking my water.

"That aside, I have a question for you..." He cupped his hands beneath his chin, using them for his chin to rest on. "Which of the guys here do you find most attractive?" he was talking like a mother would to their daughter about life issues. Of course, I spewed my water out in a spray at the sudden question.

"What the hell kinda question is that?!" I yelled, surprised and a little angry.

"I'm just wondering. If you do have a crush, I'll bet it's one of your little friends. Which one? C'mon, you can tell me, sweetie! If you're into charm and looks, Galahad is okay. But if you're into muscle, that Brogan guy is a great choice. Then there's Zalman with his quietness and book smarts. And there's Makoto with his adorable stutter and caring personality." he smiled sweetly at me. I just stared at him, my mouth agape.

In case you haven't guessed what's up with Gerik, I'll tell you now. He has multiple personalities. The other templars who don't know him personally have come to refer to his two sides by different names. His motherly girl personality is "Mummy Gerik" and his serious male personality is "Normal Gerik". He seems to switch between the personalities depending on outside factors. Like if something happens to him that a feminine girl would worry about, such as his hair getting messed up or breaking a nail, he'll switch to "Mummy Gerik". Normally, once he's done fussing over the matter, he'll either switch back to "Normal Gerik" or remain "Mummy Gerik" for a while longer. He tends to be in "Mummy Gerik" mode the most when around me and not training, and the other templars say that Mummy Gerik is more motherly to me than the other templars. Despite this dual personality disorder, he's the finest sword-wielder in the abbey.

"Oh, dearie... You know that if you're uncomfortable talking about this with me, you can just tell me when you're ready." he gave me a sweet smile as he said it.

"Um, yes... I feel I should not concern myself with this at the moment. Besides, it's dinnertime." I stated, fidgeting with my fingers.

"Oh, my! It is dinnertime! We better hurry on up, or all the best food'll be gone!"

Gerik stood up, grabbed my hand, and whisked me back up stairs.

Later that night...

I was removing my blue Templar uniform and slipping under the covers. Just in case you forgot, I share a room with Makoto and Zalman. My bed is in the corner by the window on the opposite side of the room from the door. Zalman's bed is lined up with mine, closer to the door. Makoto's bed is just across the room from mine. Across from Zalman's bed is a desk.

"H-hey Em?"

I jumped a little as I heard Makoto's voice. I had thought he was asleep. It was too dark to see anything but his eyes and body, which was illuminated slightly by the light of the moon shining in from the window.

"I've g-got the t-t-tickle ag-gain." he whispered to me.

"The tickle" is kinda like Makoto's sixth sense. It's a feeling he gets before something big happens. Usually, the stronger "the tickle" is, the bigger the event. Last time, he predicted Abbot Kukule falling ill. Before that, he predicted Captain Marco going on vacation.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to prepare ourselves for whatever big event is about to happen." I stated as I slipped under the sheets.

"N-no... It's d-different this t-time. I-it's an e-e-extremel-ly ssssssstrong f-feeling." he whispered to me. He sounded extremely serious and a little distressed, which was reflected in his stutter.

"... How strong?" I asked, a little unsure due to his seriousness.

"... Like everything in our life is about to change."

I was startled by two things. For one, his voice was completely devoid of emotion. Second, he said it without stuttering.

"Um... When did this tickle start?" I asked.

"Um... I-it's b-been going on f-f-for about th-th-three days." his voice sounded a little less serious now... In fact, he sounded a little worried.

"Well... That certainly is the longest you've ever had the tickle. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens." I shrugged, though I was still a little uneasy.

"Em... I-if anything h-h-happens to e-either of us, I w-want you to know that I v-value our f-friendship, and that I ap-p-precia-ate everyth-th-thing that you've d-done for me."

I smiled warmly at him. "Same here, Mako. I value our friendship. I don't know how I'd've survived this place had I not met you so soon after coming here."

"... G-good night, E-Emily." he said as he laid down and covered himself with the bed sheets.

"Good night, Makoto." I said warmly, also laying down and pulling the sheets over myself.

End Chapter 1