Chapter 7
Time - Late afternoon, 6 days after the Harvest Festival
Place - Endless Sands, Plegia
Inigo looked out to the horizon, and at the hazy, dust-filled desert that filled the distance between.
He looked down at the map in his hands.
He looked back up, twisting his neck to the right, and then to the left. Endless desert, and...wait! Was that..!? Yep. Endless desert.
He looked down at the map in his hands, and flipped it over, then back again.
"Shit," he finally said.
"Are you okay, son?" his father asked from his spot next to him on the front of the carriage.
"Gods!" Inigo shouted, clutching his chest. "Don't DO that!"
Kellam smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I'm just concerned, that's all. I know it can't be easy to find your bearings in this desert...last time I came through here, there was an entire army with us to scout the way."
"Yes, well…" Inigo frowned. An entire army sounded nice right about now. "Perhaps we should just stop at the next outpost we come across, anyway. I know the last time we were almost killed by Risen, but what are the odds of that happening twice? Ha ha."
Kellam did not speculate.
"Er…" Inigo continued. "How's Morgan doing?"
"She was napping when I was back there, but that was a few hours ago," Kellam answered.
Inigo tried not to react to the fact that his father had apparently been up here with him for several hours. It was a strange habit the man had; even Prince Gaius, who had once been a highly accomplished thief, had said that Kellam's ability to sneak around unnoticed was one that many rogues would kill for. And, even more bizarrely, Kellam apparently had no idea how or why he was so inadvertently stealthy.
All Inigo knew was that a young man sometimes wanted his privacy without worrying about his father being in the same room, hiding in plain sight…
"Y'know, I was meaning to say," Kellam said, and Inigo jumped slightly. Good Gods, he had forgotten his father was there because he was too busy thinking about how easy it was to forget when his father was there.
"Yes?" Inigo quickly responded.
"You were very brave back in Midtown, when those Risen attacked us," Kellam said. "That leader of theirs was focused on Morgan, but you drew its ire so it would attack you instead."
"Oh," Inigo said, blushing. "I, uhm…"
"It's how I've always preferred to fight," Kellam went on. "Some people carry their own shield into battle, but for those who don't, there's me. Each blow that hits me is one less to hurt anyone else."
"Yeah…" Inigo said, nodding. "I guess I never really thought of it that way. Getting hurt doesn't really scare me, but losing someone that I lo...uhm, that I'm close to scares the hell out of me."
Kellam's face was normally blank and utterly unreadable, but he seemed to give him a knowing look. "That's sort of how I met your mother, actually," he said. "She was never the strongest member of our army, but her role was vital. So whenever she had to get to the front lines for any reason, I always made sure to be there, to stop anyone from hurting her. At first she didn't notice, but...after a while she started to see me, more than anyone else could."
Inigo smiled. "Gosh, that's...actually really sweet, dad."
Kellam shrugged. "Your mother certainly thinks so. But in truth I didn't even do it to be nice, or because she was pretty. I did it because it's who I am. It would never occur to me to do anything else. And I think you're the same way, Inigo."
Inigo could still feel himself blushing from all this unexpected praise. "I'm nowhere near as strong as you, though-"
"Oh, it's not about strength. It's just about dedication. Always be there to protect those who need it. To protect those you love."
Inigo let out a loud cough at this. "Yes, well, I, ah, have a lot of love to give! There are so many beautiful women out there in the world, after all, aheheheh…"
"Say, uhm, Inigo," Kellam continued, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Now he appeared to be blushing as well. "The version of me from the future, er, the one that raised you. Did he ever, ah...properly sit you down and explain, y'know, the birds and the bees…?"
"Good Gods, father!" Inigo shouted, when there was a loud yawn behind him. Morgan appeared to have woken up, and was pushing her way to the front of the cart, where she squeezed in between father and son.
"Morning," she mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her face was grimy and her hair was an absolute mess. Still, her timely interruption made her the most beautiful image Inigo had ever seen.
"It's late afternoon," Kellam pointed out.
"Morgan! Impeccable timing," Inigo yelled, wiping sweat from his brow. "We were just talking about...very manly things. Like explosions, and...how much we like, uh...bacon."
"Oh...kay…" Morgan said slowly, giving him an odd look. "So, uh, what's the story? How much longer until we get to Annapolis?"
"It's a funny story, that," Inigo began.
"We're lost," Kellam interjected.
"That wasn't very funny at all," Morgan said.
"It's all in the delivery, my father doesn't have any comedic timing." Inigo sighed. "It's okay, though, we're just going to stop at the next outpost we come across and get our bearings. We'll be back on track in no time!"
As it happened, it was later that evening as the last rays of the sun were disappearing and the chill desert air was beginning to descend that they stumbled across a small town. Right off the bat, this one appeared to be a good deal more lively than Midtown had been.
As they approached the outskirts of town, they could already hear a steady hum of voices from inside one of the few buildings around.
"Perhaps there's a...town hall meeting going on?" Kellam mused. "Maybe a church sermon?"
The double doors at the front of the noisy building swung open, and a body came flying out. For the brief moment that the doors were open, the voices could be heard more clearly; shouting, swearing, and off-key, drunken singing.
"Ooh, it's a pub," Inigo said, his interest piqued.
"That body isn't moving," Morgan pointed out.
"This place looks...dangerous," Kellam said, as he brought the cart to a halt and began hitching the horses. "Maybe we should keep moving, I'm sure there'll be another outpost along the way…"
Inigo hopped off the cart and made a few strides toward the pub, before turning around and fixing the other two with an indignant look. Both Kellam and Morgan appeared much more hesitant to go any further.
"Oh come on, you...you...couple of women," Inigo said, ignoring the glare from Morgan and the confused look from Kellam. "Sure, this may be a bit of a rough neighborhood-" he paused as a dagger flew out from the swinging doors, embedding itself in the ground by his feet, "but pubs like this are everywhere. You just have to know how to speak the language of the locals." He straightened his clothes and struck Morgan with a smoldering stare, flashing a smile so bright it could out-sparkle the sun.
"I'm going to punch you in the face," she responded.
"Okay, you're an outlier," Inigo conceded, losing his composure for only a moment before resuming his confident pose. "But nine times out of ten, people will tell me anything I want to hear once I turn on the ol' charm." He turned back around and resumed walking towards the pub, a distinctive and entirely unnatural swagger in his step. "So you two just stay here and watch a master at work."
He pushed open the swinging doors to the pub, and stepped inside. The noise dimmed considerably, as many pairs of eyes turned to study this newcomer.
"What ho, comrades!" Inigo announced cheerfully, "I am but a humble traveling merchant looking for a good time, just like any of you! Unfortunately, my associates and I have somewhat lost our bearings; perchance, might one of you fine citizens be able to point us in the proper direction? I would have naught but the utmost gratitude-"
"-Eugggh. Wha' happen'd?"
He was on the ground outside, staring up at the night sky, a good deal of pain throbbing somewhere behind his eyes.
"You made it about two sentences before someone broke a chair over your head," Morgan answered, as she dabbed his forehead with a damp cloth.
"I thought it was going well, ow," Inigo mumbled, wincing as he sat upright. Morgan gave him a gentle smile. Maybe it was the concussion, but he found himself smiling back.
"What was that all about, anyway? Were you hoping there were some pretty girls in there you could impress?" Morgan asked, just a hint of snark in her voice.
"No!" Inigo responded, loudly enough that he made his own head hurt. "Ow...ah, what I mean to say is...I know that places like this can be a bit rough towards, well...ladies, such as yourself."
"Ladies such as myself are perfectly capable of looking after ourselves," Morgan responded, but she still appeared to be regarding him fondly. "But...I get it. It was sweet, if a bit stupid and pointless."
"Th-thanks," Inigo mumbled. Suddenly overcome with a migraine, he slouched forward, into her arms.
"Careful!" Morgan said, helping him stay upright. "Stay with me, Inigo, you're not supposed to sleep after taking a nasty blow to the head like that."
"I'm fine, I'm okay," Inigo responded. He looked up into her eyes, which were now very close to his. He could feel her warm breath against his face. Her arms were still wrapped around him.
And now her face was moving ever closer to his…
"W-wait," he whispered, and she pulled back slightly. "My dad! He...he's not right next to us or something, is he?"
"...That is an incredibly strange thing to ask, but I'll forgive it on account of your head injury," Morgan responded. "He went into the pub after you were thrown out. We're alone."
Inigo was snapped out of his reverie. "He did? Why? What could he possibly hope to accomplish?"
Morgan gave him a strange look. "Well, since you couldn't get any information on where to go from here, he figured he'd try. I think he said he was just going to sit quietly and listen in on people. It's worth a shot, right?"
"Ugh, I can't stand that," Inigo grumbled. "It's so...overbearing! Why's he always have to be there, quietly watching? We could have handled this ourselves!"
"Right, because that went so well for you," Morgan chided. She pulled a little bit further back. "Just so we're clear, are you actually going to stop me from kissing you so that you can rant about your dad?"
Inigo's face turned a bright red, and he mumbled something unintelligible. Finally, he managed to say, "I'm sorry. He's just always tried so hard to protect me and it gets annoying sometimes. Wouldn't it have been fun if it were just the two of us, on a grand adventure? But instead now we have to deal with him and his bizarre stealth act."
Morgan unwrapped herself from him and pushed away, awkwardly straightening her clothes. "Has it ever occurred to you, Inigo, that some of us maybe wish we had fathers around?"
Inigo's heart sank. "No, that...I mean, that's not what…"
"So your dad is always there for you. Boo hoo, how terrible. I don't even know if my parents are alive or dead, but given that I haven't seen them in four years, if they are alive I think it's safe to say they don't care about me anymore."
Inigo tried to stand up, but was overcome with a wave of dizziness, forcing him back to the ground. "Morgan, that's not...I don't…"
"Just forget it, Inigo. I hope your head feels better."
Through blurry eyes he watched her go back to the cart, step inside, and close the curtain behind her. Unable to stay upright under his own strength any longer, Inigo slumped backwards, laying helplessly on the ground, staring up at the stars.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid idiot," he grumbled to himself.
"Who is?" came Kellam's voice from nearby. Inigo groaned.
"Please, please tell me you weren't here this whole time."
"I just left the pub. I know where to go from here," Kellam answered. "Why are you laying on the ground?"
"Because I've acknowledged my place as a pathetic, lowly worm," Inigo mumbled.
"Oh. Well, why don't we head back to the cart. Do you need a hand?"
Without waiting for him to object, Kellam reached down and scooped up Inigo. For someone so infamously easy to miss, his father was tall and strong enough to make carrying him around seem effortless.
"Is Morgan in the cart?" Kellam asked as they approached it.
"Mmhmm," Inigo responded, without enthusiasm.
"Well, I'll just slide you in back, and-"
"Wait," Inigo hastily said. "I'd rather sit up front with you. If that's okay, uh. Dad."
Kellam smiled down at him. "Of course it's okay. C'mon."
He propped Inigo up at the front of the carriage, then climbed into the driver's seat beside him. "We'll be at Annapolis in no time. Then we'll be back in Ylisse and reunited with our friends. I have a really good feeling about this adventure!"
"Yeah," Inigo said, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Great."
It was another day of long, boring travel through dusty, boring desert. Inigo dozed off a few times, which he was pretty sure you weren't supposed to do with a concussion, but he woke up each time, so that was nice.
Eventually Morgan made her way out from the back of the cart, and came up front to sit on the other side of Kellam. Inigo craned forward to look at her, around the bulk of his father's golden armour, but her head was turned steadfastly towards the opposite horizon. She did not appear to have anything to say.
Inigo slouched back. He had blown this one royally. He had been with women before, sure, but it had all been kind of vapid, shallow, a way to pass the time. With Morgan it was...different. They had always just been friends, and he had never pushed himself on her too hard, but...lately there was something about that connection that felt real. Like he was wanted. Like she would actually want him to stay, once the fun part was over.
But, that was all over now.
Through the bright haze of the afternoon sun, a compound was coming into visibility ahead. As they drew closer, it became increasingly apparent that there was a good deal of bustle going on. The buildings looked more like elaborate mazes of tents, a village that had cropped up overnight and could fold up and move at a moment's notice.
There was also a large fence around it. A gate, located straight ahead of them, was flanked by two guards with long spears. Apparently this place meant business.
And as they drew closer still, they could make out the features of the guards: long red hair, sultry eyes, busty physiques. Oh, yes. This place meant BUSINESS.
"Halt!" one of the guards shouted, as both lowered their spears across the gate to block their approach. Inigo, Kellam and Morgan exchanged nervous glances with one another. Had this whole trip been for naught?
"No one gets in without a reference," the other guard said. "Who sent you?"
There was a moment of long, drawn-out silence.
Morgan was the one to break it. "Uhm. Anna?" she said.
The guards looked across at each other.
"Right then," one said, as they raised their spears. "Enjoy your stay."
Kellam slowly urged the horses forward into the compound. Inside was...well...Anna.
Most of the buildings were merchant stalls, or at least had merchant stalls affixed to the fronts. There were goods of all kinds on display, from the mundane to the extravagant. Goods were being bartered, gold was changing hands, one person was exchanging a chicken for a barrel of old clothes…
...and everyone was Anna. Long red hair, sultry eyes, busty physiques. An endless sea of Anna.
"This is creeping me out," Inigo said softly.
"Don't be rude," Kellam chided. "I've met, uhm, Anna before, and she was perfectly nice."
"No, I get that, one Anna would be fine," Inigo answered, "I mean, really, fiiiiine," he added, unable to stop himself as his eyes followed one who was walking by in an exotic belly-dancing outfit. "But this? A hundred Anna's? How is that even possible? There's no way you can tell me they're siblings, there isn't a womb in the world that could manage that."
"I suppose I've never really thought about it," Kellam conceded. "I had plenty of brothers, but...I guess this is all a bit excessive…"
"We can figure out the family tree later," Morgan cut in. "We're here for business, remember? We need to find out who's in charge."
Kellam nodded. They hitched the cart in a lot with a few others, and made their way into the heart of the bizarre bazaar.
Inigo cracked his knuckles. Beautiful redheads as far as the eye could see. This had to be a reward for all the pain and suffering he'd put up with lately, right? He glanced over at Morgan, who was thoroughly ignoring him. Aggressively ignoring him, even.
Well, what, he was supposed to stay celibate forever because they had almost kissed? He didn't owe her anything, and besides, she was clearly done with him anyway. Time to give up and move on.
He was good at that.
"Excuse me," Morgan said, approaching a tent where Anna was haggling with Anna over the price of a funky, impractical looking wine goblet.
"Yes?" they both said, turning to her.
"I'm...uh, sorry," Morgan stuttered, momentarily taken aback, "but I'm looking for the person in charge here."
"Of the whole settlement?" the shopkeeper asked. "That'd be Anna."
They went back to haggling, the customer adamant that the goblet was made out of clay and not Grima's scales as the label claimed.
"Er, excuse me," Morgan said again. "Which Anna would that be, exactly?"
Both Anna's turned back to her, looking rather surprised that she was still here.
"Sorry, you don't look familiar. Have we met?" the shopkeeper Anna asked.
"I'm, uh...I'm Morgan. Not an Anna," Morgan answered, feeling rather surreal at having to explain that.
"Hmmm...you'd look good with red hair, though," the customer Anna said, reaching out and running a hand through Morgan's messy white hair. "And we could get you a new outfit, show off your feminine wiles a bit more. You do have feminine wiles, right?"
Morgan blushed.
"Stop teasing her, Anna," chided Anna. "If you're looking for Anna - sorry, the head Anna - we can take you to her."
"Great, thanks," Morgan said. "Guys, they're going to-"
She looked around. Inigo was gone. Well, fine. She didn't need his help anyway. She could handle this on her own. In fact, he'd probably slow her down by being a big, stupid idiot.
"Guess I'm on my own," she said, and followed after the two Anna's.
Kellam sighed and followed along, too.
At the far end of Annapolis, a considerably more primal building stood. Perhaps it was the only piece of original Plegian architecture here, around which the Anna's had built their merchant city.
Something about it made Morgan shudder.
"Anna is in here," Anna said, opening the door and standing aside so Morgan could pass through. She went to shut it, though oddly it pushed back open again as if someone else also wanted to come in.
Anna shrugged. You didn't question the weird shit around here.
Inside, the building was one large, open room. It looked a bit like the throne room back in the castle at Ylisstol - throne and all. However, instead of an elegant hall for posh meetings and formal balls, the area in front of this throne was roped off in a large circle. Morgan's guides made sure to walk around the outskirts of the circle rather than pass directly through it.
"Anna! We've got someone here who wanted to talk to you," Anna announced.
There were several Anna's in the room, but most of them did not look over from what they were doing, as if they somehow innately knew they weren't the Anna being addressed.
The one that did look over was the one sitting on the throne. She had one leg over the side, and a large sack spilling over with gold coins as a pillow.
"Hey, I recognize you," said the Anna In Charge. "You're the kid of that tactician from Ylisse, right? What was his name, Bluejay?"
"Robin!" Morgan said, gasping. "You knew my father?"
"'Course, I fought with him and his army for a bit," Anna said, leaping off the throne and landing before Morgan with equal parts grace and ferocity. "Good times. Made some of my best sales to those rubes. I mean, uh, respected comrades-in-arms."
"That's great!" Morgan responded, giddy with optimism. "Ylisse needs your help again! The new king of Plegia attacked us, and-"
Anna held up a finger and gently pressed it against Morgan's lips.
"Shh, shh, shh. I'm gonna stop you right there." She turned away and sauntered back to her throne, her hips instinctively moving in such a hypnotic fashion that even Morgan was momentarily entranced. When she had sat back down on her coin pillow, sending a few clattering to the floor, she continued. "I joined the army last time as a freelancer. An Anna alone. That's how we do things: individually, when we feel like it, for our own reasons. If you're here for some kind of...Anna army, well, that ain't how we roll."
Morgan's optimism began to deflate, but...no! She wasn't giving up that easily.
"This threat is Plegian!" Morgan said. "And it looks like you've got your base set up here, in Plegia! Do you really think a mad king with an army of Risen is just going to let you have a little free space? Especially with all this gold and treasure here?"
Anna shrugged. "He's welcome to try to come and get it."
Morgan forged ahead. "And how many of you will die in that attack? How many of your sist-frie-uh, Anna's will perish because you just sat around waiting for him to consolidate his strength and come for you?"
Anna flicked a coin up in the air, making it spin, and caught it as it came back down. She did this again a few times, her eyes not leaving Morgan.
"You're really trying to sell me on this, aren't you?" she finally said.
"And I'm not leaving here until I make the sale," Morgan replied.
Anna stood up, and snapped her fingers. The other Anna's in the room moved in to huddle around her, and a hum of intense whispering filled the room. Morgan strained to hear, but couldn't make out anything other than the occasional "profit," "moxy," or "cute."
Finally the huddle broke, and all the Anna's turned as one to face Morgan.
"There is precedence," she said, slowly, watching Morgan's face closely to gauge for a reaction. Morgan kept her emotions in check, and nodded in understanding.
"If an Anna is in danger, we'll do what we can to help them," a different Anna explained.
"And being an Anna isn't just about your DNA, though that helps," the leader said, running her hand through her hair and striking a sultry pose. "It's about attitude."
"Style!" said another.
"It's a way of life," chimed in a third.
"So...I can become an Anna? And then you'll help?" Morgan ventured, cautiously optimistic once more.
"It's not an easy process!" Anna warned, wagging her finger. "You'll have to pass a series of grueling tests to ensure you're made of the right stuff. You'll be judged by the Council of Anna, of which I am the leader. Anna."
The six other women lined up, three on each side.
"This is Anna."
"Hi!"
"Anna."
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Anna."
"Howdy, pardner!"
"Anna."
"Yarrr, ahoy matey."
"Anna."
"Charmed, I'm sure."
"And…"
Anna paused, looking at the last one. All the Anna's appeared more or less identical, with a few quirks here and there such as a cowboy hat or eye patch, but the one on the end had dark purple hair instead of the usual bright red.
"Veronica," she said.
"It's a phase she's going through," the lead Anna insisted.
"It is not! THIS IS WHO I AM!" Veronica screamed.
Anna rolled her eyes.
"So...what do I have to do, O Righteous Council of Anna's and One Veronica?" Morgan asked.
"Once the sun has set, meet us outside the gates of the camp," Anna said. "The trials will begin. Succeed, and you shall be one of us." She offered a wide, infectious grin, and Morgan smiled back.
As the Anna's filed past her, the leader stopped and put an arm around Morgan.
"Oh, you may want to get your affairs in order first," she said. "If you fail, you die. Well, seeya tonight!"
She sauntered off.
Morgan watched the Anna's go, her heart sinking. Fail...and die?
She stomped her foot, and stuck her chin up. She was smart, savvy, and capable. She could handle anything a bunch of sexy merchant clones could throw at her. It was going to be fine.
And yet, despite herself, a small part of her said: I wish Inigo were with me...
