Ooh, my mouth feels like it's full of cotton. Old, moldy cotton mixed with mothballs. I'm lying down again, wrapped in furs. I open my eyes.
Blue skies, green trees. I'm on a stretcher. I look up. Horse butt. Except this time, it belongs to Sully's horse. Freddy's horse is likely a destrier, bred solely for war. Sully's seems more like a courser. I look left. Lissa's chatting animatedly with Robin. Something about frogs. I look to my right. Chrom is talking with Ruffles—erm—Virion in hushed tones. Don't know what that's about. Freddy is right behind them leading his horse on foot. His head's on a swivel, looking for threats I guess.
Y'know, this stretcher's kind of comfortable, the way it sways slightly in time to the gait of Sully's horse. It's rather soothing. I think I'll go back…to…
Oh, someone turn the sun off please.
Anybody?
Ah, fine.
I open my eyes. Everything is blurry. I must not be wearing my glasses. I rub my face, hoping to get the sleep out of my eyes—hold it! I take off the glasses that have been on my face the entire time. Everything is so clear. I put my glasses back on. Everything is blurry. I take them off. Clear. Blurry. Clear. Blurry. Clear. Huh. Weird, but convenient.
I sit up, and…it doesn't hurt. I'm stiff as all get out, but I don't hurt! I take in the room. Wooden walls, window over there to the right, simple wooden door: conclusion; I don't know where I am. I lean forward.
Wait. Something is missing. I look down.
What. The. Hell. My stomach is missing. More specifically, my Buddha belly, so to speak. I now have a flat stomach under all these bandages. Which is weird. Shouldn't I have a flap of skin just hanging there until it regains elasticity? I'm no expert, but I do remember seeing people on the internet who had lost a ton of weight who were like that. Hold up. I check the rest of my body. I seem to have lost practically all my body fat. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm still chubby, but I seem to have lost at least somewhere between twenty and fifty pounds. Which brings to mind this one question: how?
The door opening interrupts my repeated disbelieving poking of my belly. I look up to see a girl in pink riding clothes with long, curly blonde hair and a pink parasol. "Well, you're awake. I suppose it was inevitable." She strides to the bed and places the back of her hand on my forehead. "Well, you're not feverish."
She pauses. "Oh, how rude of me, I have yet to introduce myself. I am Maribelle, troubadour and daughter of the Duke of Themis. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" She holds out her hand.
I look at her hand for a moment. Oh, what the hell. Taking the offered hand, I kiss the back. Now, how did I introduce myself to Sully again? Oh yeah. "I am Sparky, my dear lady, Outrealmer and Pyromaniac extraordinaire. And I must say, the pleasure is all mine."
Maribelle blushes, however slightly. "Oh, my. Your countenance is certainly that of a commoner, but you've the manners of a noble."
I smile. "Though common I may be; I do try, milady. Might I inquire to the identity of who nursed me back to health?"
"Oh, yes. I may have brought you back to full health, but it was my dearest Lissa who initially saved you life."
That sounds vaguely familiar. "You know Lissa?"
Maribelle nods. "Oh yes. We've been the best of friends since our childhood together. I must say that I am grateful that you would take a life-threatening injury to prevent harm to my Lissa."
I smile, warmly I hope. "It was my honor. And I must say, you did a magnificent job fixing me up. But I do have to ask; how is it that I've lost weight and had my eyesight fixed?"
The noblewoman smiles. Hey, being polite pays off. "Well, simply put, healing staves work by focusing the wielder's magic and will to speed up the body's natural healing. Should the wound be beyond the body's normal means of healing, the healing staff uses the body's magic instead. You had a severe wound and have so little magic in your body that you were forced to burn fat to create the necessary energy for the healing staff to work."
"I see." Well, that answers one question. Unfortunately, now that I don't have as much body fat, taking another ax to the ribs might result in my body cannibalizing muscle mass the next time. Hopefully there won't be a next time. "And my eyes?"
"Occasionally, healing staves will fix degraded vision, but it is not something we healers try to do on purpose. The pain is said to be excruciating. You were lucky to be unconscious for it."
Sounds like it. "Thank you for explaining that to me. May I ask when I'll be allowed to leave?"
"Not until tomorrow. Also, Prince Chrom wishes to speak with you. I'll let him know you're awake." With that, Maribelle left.
Well, I wasn't expecting it to go like that. Maribelle was a lot less frosty than I thought she'd be, given what I remember of her introduction to Robin in the game. I guess the whole manners and politeness thing did the trick.
Before long, Chrom walked in. "Hey Sparky, how're you feeling?"
I stretch. "Not that bad, actually, and pleasantly surprised."
He looks at me critically. "Yes, you do seem to be healthier."
"So." I look at Chrom. Something's up, I can tell that much. "What's up?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to join the Shepherds. You fought well, if not unconventionally against those Plegian bandits."
Joining the Shepherds. Hm. On the one hand, I'm likely to be in bodily danger if I join. On the other, if I join, I'll be less likely to be killed in the initial Plegian invasion. Also, I'd be able to indulge in my burgeoning pyromania with them. What the heck. "Sure, why not? The Plegians are your neighbors who hold a grudge against Yllise for your father's actions, right?"
Chrom stares at me. "How did know that?"
Oh. Whoops. Well, Chrom already knows I'm an outrealmer. Might as well tell the truth. Sort of. "Chrom, in my realm, we have a fictional series called Fire Emblem that tells the story of this realm and a few others. The first volume is about the hero king Marth, but that one was only released in one country. There was a whole bunch of others about other eras of this world, but the last one details this era."
"Wait, are you telling me you know everything that's going to happen?" Chrom is looking pretty frantic and bewildered. I think.
I shake my head. "Sadly, no. I do remember a few details, like the fact that your father went on a crusade, but it's been so long since I read the story that I cannot remember much. Most of what I do remember only comes to me once it's happening." I shrug helplessly. "Sorry. I'll still warn you about things if I remember in time though."
Chrom smiles. "Thanks Sparky. I'll try not to bug you about it."
I smile back. "Thanks."
"I'll introduce you to the rest of the Shepherds tomorrow, alright?"
I'd like to tell you how my first interactions with the Shepherds went, but Vaike, the lovable idiot, decided to go spike the apple cider we all had at dinner with the strongest alcohol made in Ylisse. So, we all got rip-roaring drunk, and now I can't remember a blasted thing and have a hangover the size of Hanover. All I know is that I started hugging everybody in my stupor. I can't help but feel that I forgot something important that I was warned about though.
Light stabs into my eyelids as thunder pierces my eardrums. Why must everything be so loud?
"RISE AND SHINE, RECRUIT! IT'S TIME FOR PHYSICAL TRAINING!"
My head throbs as I try to tune out Frederick's booming voice. I curl up into my bedcovers, trying to go back to sleep.
COLD! I shoot up, seeing Frederick in his armor with a dripping, empty bucket in hand. "You have half an hour to eat before I expect you to report to the training field!"
I watch as Frederick leaves. Shortly thereafter, I hear a splash and feminine screaming from down the hall. I thinks it's Robin, but the world hurts to much to tell.
I remember what they were trying to warn me about last night. I always thought Freddy's Fanatical Fitness Hour was a thing made up by fanfiction writers. I was wrong! I was so horribly wrong!
…
Somebody save me!
My limbs…are jelly. Why? I think I just croaked that out loud. Oh look, there's Freddy.
"I'm surprised you managed to keep going this long. Robin collapsed about half an hour ago."
Yeah well, I've always been too stubborn for my own good. At least I can listen to Frederick talk without the cymbals crashing in my head anymore.
Frederick straightens up from where he was bending over me and starts walking off. "Well, time for lunch. We will pick back up tomorrow morning."
Tomorrow?! Somebody, kill me now!
I hear Robin groaning next to me. "He's a monster."
Tell me about it.
A few days later, word came down to us that the Ylissian council had dubbed the undead threat the "Risen." Seriously, it took them that long to do that? We're doomed.
Fortunately for me and Robin, Frederick went with Chrom to the council meeting as his guard, sparing us from the Fanatical Fitness Hour. Robin decided to spend her free morning hours in the library, doing tactician things. Me, I went shopping for a few…ingredients.
I had decided, upon Frederick's failure to teach me to use any of the weapons they had (the pantsing thing was totally not my fault), that if I was going to fight, I was going to do it my way: with science!
...And a little bit of madness.
So, after placing a custom order with a potter, another custom order at a clockmaker's, and an order for sulfur from a tannery, I went to a blacksmith to see if they had anything I'd need. To my glee, they had plenty of charcoal and saltpeter. Now all I needed was aluminum, iron-oxide, and magnesium.
Surprisingly, the blacksmith I inquired at actually knew where I could get aluminum. Apparently, some idiot had sent them a shipment of aluminum ores instead of the iron ores they wanted.
"So, you're just going to send it back?" I step back as the blacksmith pulls a red hot length of metal out of the forge and douses it.
He looks at me through the resulting steam. "Yup. Aluminum is good fer makin' and enhancin' magic staves, but we ain't got no use fer it. Dunno what the idjits were thinkin'." He had an interesting combination of a Slavic and country-boy accent.
I smile. "How much would it take to get you to smelt the aluminum and grind it down into a coarse powder?"
The blacksmith pauses, his thick, bushy eyebrows rising towards the top of his bald head. "What chew want aluminum powder fer?"
My smile possibly goes a bit insane. "For science."
A slightly creeped out look enters the blacksmith's eyes. "I see." I can see the gears in his head grinding as he thinks. "300 gold pieces a pound. Next thing you'll be tellin' me, ye'll be wantin' powdered rust too."
There is definitely insanity present in my smile now. "Oh, most definitely."
"Uhuh, of course yeh do. 300 fer that as well then."
I try to school my smile to something less disconcerting, hopefully anyways. Social interaction has never been my thing after all. "It's a deal then, just send the shipment and the bill to the Shepherds."
The blacksmith nods and calls over an apprentice wearing thick metal goggles. "Cancel the return of the aluminum shipment and take it to the smelter." The apprentice salutes and leaves for the back. The blacksmith turns back to me. "Is this going to be a regular order?"
"Most likely."
He puts his large, calloused hand before me. "In that case, I'd like to be knowing the name of my business partner. I am Gru the smith."
I take his hand, doing my best not to wince as Gru does his best to crush my hand. "People call me Sparky. While we're on the subject of powdered metals, would you know where I can get my hands on powdered magnesium?"
Gru smiles as he lets go of my poor, abused hand. "Aye, that I do. There's a shop down the way run by a merchant named Anna. She's got a little bit of everything in her shop, so if anyone has what yer lookin' fer, she'll have it."
"Thanks." I start to head out the door as Terrence tells me the name of the shop.
"Shop's name is Trickster's Paradise. Yeh can't miss it." As I leave the shop, I can hear him bellowing out orders to his minions.
Soon enough, I find the shop. Gru wasn't kidding when he said you can't miss it. I don't think I've ever seen reds and yellows that bright before. I stand there for I don't know how long before I finally go in.
A bell rings to announce my entrance as I open the door. I hear a pleasant voice from the back. "I'll be out in a minute!"
Okay then, I'll just browse. She's got some interesting things on the shelves…Oh. My. God. There's just no way…
"Can I help you?"
I jump in surprise and pull my attention away from the thing on the shelf. She's very attractive, with long red hair and pouty smile, and is about half a head taller than my height of 5'10". I idly notice that she has a very nice figure under her red and yellow outfit. She puts a hand out. "Hi, I'm Anna!"
"Sparky." I reach out and take what I was looking at off the shelf. I swallow with my suddenly dry mouth. "Whe-where did you get this?"
Anna looks down in slight confusion. In my hands, is an honest-to-God gas mask. Not the kind that would have been developed in the medieval ages, but the kind of modern-day gas mask that one could find in a military surplus store. After a moment, comprehension dawns on Anna's face. "Oh~. I have a sister who runs an Outrealm Gate, and every so often, something from a different realm will pop out. She usually sends them to me to sell in my store."
I look at the mask then back up at Anna. "Do you have anything else like this?"
"Yep. I keep most of it in the back. Taking my hand, she leads me to the back storage room. "I'll just leave you here to browse. Let me know if you need anything."
With that, I am left alone, staring in awe at the things she has back here. I go down an aisle of the miniature warehouse and gape and gawk at the things there. I see a phaser from Star Trek on one shelf, without power. On another, I find what appear to be half a lightsaber and a blaster ammunition pack. On yet another shelf I find a UNSC MA5B Assault Rifle. Sadly, there is no ammunition, and a neat, melted line bisects the barrel, almost separating the Assault Rifle into two halves.
Down the second aisle, I finally find something useful: a modern military helmet, complete with flip-down visor, most likely from the German Army or GSG-9 from the shape and black coloring. Picking it up, I decide that I'd take it, if not to protect my head better than the helmets they have here, then to have something to remind me of home. Putting it on my head, I continue down the aisle where I find a selection of clothes that had fallen through the Outrealm Gate.
The variety of clothes there was amazing. The first thing I saw was a Sprawl Security Suit from Dead Space 2. To my disappointment, however, it was only most of a suit, as something had torn out the suit electronics, and the blood-stained reinforced cloth had for the most part rotted through at some point. Still, there were portions of the cloth that could be salvaged, along with the armor plating. I put it aside.
I went through the entire rack of clothing, finding several things of interest (though who would wear fetish-worthy plate armor that left the belly and cleavage exposed was beyond me). There were a good number of incomplete battle fatigues and armors that I ended up salvaging as well; such as the breastplate from the melted fatigues of a Kasrkin Stormtrooper and the utility belt off some ruined clone trooper armor. I also found several examples of casual clothes that I decided to keep, as the linen shirt that had replaced my destroyed cotton shirt was itchy, and my jeans were starting to smell.
To my pleasant surprise, there was also a complete set of an American firefighter's Personal Protective Equipment. Perfect for what I had in mind and a perfect base for my fighting gear. Taking my haul in my arms, I head for the door.
The bulky, tarpaulin-covered object behind the door escapes my notice as I exit.
AN: Well, another chapter of Pyromania. Hope you all enjoy. Anybody who can guess what it is I am gathering ingredients for gets a cybercookie for each correct guess.
As for the tarp-covered object, please refer to Chekov's Gun on Tvtropes. And if you absolutely must guess at what's under said tarp, send it to me via PM. I don't want to give away the surprise for later on.
