In an unlikely turn of events, a roadie from another world and a Germanian student from Tristain Academy of Magic found themselves staring at a sword from the roadie's world, just casually displayed on the wall in a Tristanian swordsmith's shop. They were currently in possession of an enchanted blade capable of speech, but honestly, Eddie couldn't give a damn.
What the hell was Battle Cry doing here? The sword went missing after Lars got killed by Doviculus, likely lost in the chaos that ensued a short while after. How did it end up here? How many more things and people from the Age of Metal were around in Helkeginia? The Fire Baron that saved Osmond's bacon, Siesta's granddad, now this… man, it was like that Scandinavian book he read once as a kid. You died in real life, you ended up in a fantasy Purgatory.
…was Lars around then? Did he die again? He wouldn't just leave his sword lying around to be picked up by some random schmuck, would he? "…dude, that sword… where did you find it?"
"Oh, that curio? Truly, I do not recall." The swordsmith turned back to look at Battle Cry. "It is not an exaggeration to say that I quite literally found it however. It must be quite ancient; its craft is nothing that I am familiar with."
"…are you, Ed?" Kirche was nothing if not observant, and her companion looked like a pickpocket caught redhanded, the way his lip quivered and eyes kept wide.
"…yeah, uh… yeah, I've seen swords like that before…" He muttered. "How much for it?" The swordsmith smiled, and Kirche did not like that smile one bit. It was a grin of an enterprising merchant, looking to make a profit. She probably could afford it either way, but it was a matter of principle; Zerbsts were not to be scammed.
"Well, it is one-of-a-kind. It looks a bit rough, but its blade is still razor-sharp. Plus, you already received one blade from me for free, such as it is…" Derflinger let out a sound of righteous indignation. "so, not to be too greedy… two thousand Écu." Kirche made a face that spoke volumes of her thoughts about such a deal. Eddie didn't have to know the local exchange rate to know that the swordsmith was trying to wring them dry. Plus, the roadie already put a big hole in Kirche's purse with the purchase of that lute a while back…
"…Ed, if you could please wait outside." Once the redhead spoke, her voice was different. Much less playful, much more focused, much more determined. Eddie blinked. She was planning something. "I should be done with the discussion with dear swordsmith in half an hour or so."
"…you're not gonna beat him up or something, right?" He whispered. Kirche smiled slightly.
"Nothing like that. This situation calls for a woman's touch." Oh. Oooh. Eddie found himself squirming a little. It wasn't that big of a deal; they could always come back for the sword at a later date, especially if the swordsmith insisted on proposing such an outrageous price for it. Like… she didn't have to go that far.
"Uh, Kirche, are you sure about th—"
"I can read a desire on one's face. You really want to take that blade with you." Kirche smiled again, this time more reassuringly. "Worry not; Sir Derflinger will protect me from untoward behavior. I only wish to haggle some~" What did "haggle" and "some" mean to the redhead, Eddie could only guess. Still, she was planning to commit and something told him that she would not change her mind no matter what he thought of that.
"Uh, right. So… meet you in half an hour by the, uh, by the entrance we came through?"
"It's a date."
There was still one more pressing issue that Eddie needed to address during his wait for Kirche.
Namely, he was still out of cancersticks. Curses. Nothing he'd seen so far convinced him that an ordinary shop would sell them. It was probably a domain of less savory characters in these parts. Still, it wasn't like he was doing something improper. He was already a heretical barbarian from the fringes of known world, so him prowling around alleyways shouldn't be too out of the ordinary.
His travelling companion – currently busy "haggling" with the swordsmith over Battle Cry – was kind enough to leave him a couple of Écu, so at least this time he wasn't going around empty-handed. Half an hour was enough to get it settled, too. Thus, he began his search. Most people made space for him as he walked, so at least he wasn't stuck in a crowd. Even some kid in fancy duds – unmistakably a noble's son – did so, although if Eddie were to guess, it was likely due to pure confusion than anything else.
Tristania's darkened alleyways were fairly calm at this time of day. Made sense; any shady deals were likely conducted after dark. And yet, Eddie found himself a spectator of something definitely shady. It looked like three men of questionable attitude apprehending someone in a long cloak that hid their features completely. It was obvious the three weren't any part of local law enforcement and the cloaked figure was in trouble. Well, that would not fly. Frowning, the roadie slowly made his way deeper into the alleyway. It seemed nobody took notice of his presence yet, and so he could make out some dialogue.
"Such a pretty face. It's a damn shame we have to put ya to the knife." One of the thugs chuckled in a gravelly voice, grabbing a hold of the cloaked figure's chin. The imminent victim squirmed in the grasp slightly, but not enough to offer any real resistance. "Gaston, ya ever wonder why noble girls are so pretty?"
"I wouldn't know, Reynard, I wouldn't know." The tallest and thinnest of thugs shrugged indifferently. "But then again, that kind of status, I bet you can turn the ugliest fooking haunt into a nymph."
"I wouldn't ponder on that much. Nobles are just that, and a plague to scour from the land." The third one – speaking with a notably different accent – replied, impatience in his voice.
"Ya shouldn't be workin' for Albion then, Mr. Wagner." Reynard laughed. "We're doin' what nobles want, ain't we?"
"Oh, don't be mistaken. We need some nobles, at the very least. But, the less we have, the better. That way we can have real power in our hands."
"I mean, I'm fine the way things are. It's just good coin." Gaston shrugged again.
"You will not get away with this." The fourth voice belonging to a girl hidden under the cloak seemed to surprise the thugs. It was clear and commanding despite being hopelessly outmatched. Not even the strongest mage could do anything if they were caught off guard, but she was not going to let their intimidation tactics deter her. Even if she were to die here, justice would be found.
"Ya don't get any say in dat, missy." Reynard barked in response, squeezing her chin roughly. The girl squirmed, a pained sound escaping her lips. "How 'bout ya do yer damn last prayer to Brimir? Then again, I guess ya're gonna live long enough for us to have sum fun with ya…"
"That is not a part of our job, Reynard." Mr. Wagner pointed out, glowering at the bulkier thug. "We're wasting time. Put her to the knife already."
"Would ya relax, ya albionian muppet? There ain't no one comin' to save this lil' bitch."
"I'll show you a muppet." The unknown voice caused all four to turn sharply. For Reynard that meant receiving a straight dead-on to the nose, throwing him into the wall of the building out of breath and out of consciousness. His grip on the girl loosened enough that she managed to stumble back out of harm's way, staring dumbfounded at her unlikely savior. Gaston was already on him, swinging his jagged knife, but it found no purchase; he too was laid down with another hit flying right into his bulkier companion.
"Oh, what in blazes…?" Mr. Wagner knew his chances. They were caught with their pants down by someone strong enough to knock Reynard – not the smallest of men – out cold with a single punch. If he were to fire his gun, that would undoubtedly alarm someone else and make escaping impossible. He was planning to leave these two Tristanian louts to their well-deserved fate, but being put to a headsman's axe was not the career path he himself envisioned.
"You tell me. You three getting off on trying to rape and murder a kid just because she's a noble?" The tall Germanian barbarian glowered at him. The axe on his back was threatening enough, but the alleyway was narrow enough to keep him from swinging it. Small comfort if Mr. Wagner were to have his neck broken from the sheer power of the enemy's swing. Plus, once their quarry recovered, she could reach for her wand herself. It was time to bail.
"Damnit… this is not the last you've heard from the Reconquista!" He chose smartly and turned right on his heel, bolting out of the alleyway. Eddie didn't plan on pursuing him, just watching him go before looking over to the girl, approaching slowly.
"You okay there?" He asked. From up close he could make out a bit of violet locks under the hood. The clothes the noble girl wore were simple and drab, but way too well-made, meant to imitate someone of a much lower social status.
"…yes. I think so, yes." The violet-haired girl nodded hesitantly. "…many thanks for your rescue, kind sir. I am in your debt."
"Hey, don't mention it. These Reconquista guys sound like a bunch of douchebags." She couldn't help but smile. This Germanian man was telling it like it is, not afraid to speak to her like they were equals. It was a welcome change of pace from all the brown-nosing and condescending respect she was getting at the palace. "Uh, you want me to get you home?"
"Oh, I don't want to trouble you—"
"Not a problem. I've got like twenty minutes left. That Wagner asshole might try his chances yet."
"I think you scared him off well enough, Sir…"
"Ed. Uh, Ed of Germania. I'm a skald." So he said, but she could see the runes on his arm. Was he a familiar? The runes didn't quite match, though they looked familiar to her; she just couldn't quite put a finger on it… "What's yours?" The girl blinked. Did he really not know who she was?
"Oh, um… Henrietta." Perhaps he didn't. He appeared to be a wandering minstrel from a land far away from here. Judging by his exotic outfit, an even stranger instrument – she figured – on his back and the incredibly casual manner that he conducted himself with, he might have been from as far as the fringes of that already distant country.
An awkward silence persisted for a few moments, finally broken off by a long-forgotten Reynard groaning from his spot, trying to pick himself up from his slumped position. "One moment." Ed of Germania said, approaching the downed thug and giving him a good old-fashioned kick to the face. Reynard stopped moving again, crumpling on the floor. Henrietta flinched both at the sight and the disgusting sound that was made. Ed's efficiency could not be denied, at the very least.
And so the princess of Tristain found herself in a presence of a most unusual bodyguard on her way back to the palace. At first she planned to head out again, but he had the right of it: there was no telling if the Reconquista's assassin wouldn't strike again. At least the two thugs she didn't have to worry about: before they left the alleyway, she made sure to restrain them with a simple spell. Judging by their operations, they were already notorious criminals, but she would leave their judgment to the city guard.
"So where were you going anyway, and dressed like that too?" He asked at some point. Currently he was smoking one of the tobacco tubes he acquired off the unconscious thugs. A cigarette, he called it. The odor was awful, but it would be rude to question that after having her life and decency saved.
"Well, I was planning to visit a friend of mine. My… position makes it difficult to travel undetected, and I just wanted to visit her without all the fanfare."
"Man, it sounds like you're some princess or something. The Reconquista muppets seemed to think so too."
"…that's because I am one, actually." Ed gave her a look that seemed mildly confused, but that confusion grew with each passing second as they walked. "…my name is Henrietta de Tristain (some more here)."
"…you're… you're not pulling my leg, are you?" Henrietta couldn't help but give him a look in return. It felt refreshing not having to be overwhelmingly, artificially polite for once. "Holy shit."
"Don't think much of it."
"Dude, no, that's dangerous." To his credit, he didn't raise his voice out of surprise, so nobody paid attention to them for too long, ignoring the fact that most people still moved before him. "Can you imagine the news if you end up dead as a doornail in some ditch?"
"I imagine most of the High Council would be mighty pleased, actually." She muttered bitterly before shaking her head, earning her another incredulous look from her unlikely bodyguard.
"Man, sounds like you have it rough. Sorry to hear that." Ed replied after a moment of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of their footsteps. "The last king and queen I knew had unanimous support."
"You knew royalty? Personally?" Oh. Oh crap. He might have said too much, he realized. It sure would be a doozy, trying to explain why this random Germanian skald knew any king at all.
"Y-you know, like a tribe king." Henrietta raised her perfectly proportioned eyebrow. "Uh, back home it's a bunch of smaller rulers under a bigger one, and then an even bigger one and so on." Something about that explanation didn't quite gel with her, but perhaps he just didn't know how to put it into words…?
"Ah. I see." Perhaps she shouldn't be pressing the issue any further. "I admit, my knowledge of Germania outside of its… mainland, so to say, is rather lacking."
"Don't worry about it. I didn't recognize a local princess either." He chuckled in response. That got her to smile in return. Yes, this was a rather nice conversation they were having. Even now that he knew of her prodigious station he didn't flinch or shy away from just talking to her like an equal. It certainly helped that he didn't seem to think much of class struggles and established order of things, likely having arrived from far enough away that the Founder's word was sparse or unknown in his homeland.
Eventually, she recognized the street they were traversing as one nearby the castle. It was probably a good time to part ways. "I shall be fine on my own from here." Henrietta said, gesturing to the spires nearby. Eddie looked up at the towers before them. "Thank you kindly for walking me here, Sir Ed."
"Don't mention it. Just try not to make a habit out of leaving alone like that. Fix yourself a bodyguard, at least."
"…I was meaning to, admittedly, but I think I was a little too confident that the turmoil from Reconquista would not reach us yet." The princess sighed dejectedly.
"What is their deal, anyway?" Oh, right. He really had no clue. To him, Reconquista were just a bunch of, as he said it, "douchebags". A funny little word, Henrietta thought, but probably not one that should be used in a distinguished company. Equally funny, of course, was her sudden need to talk to someone completely not in the know about the political burden on her back and on the back of her beloved cousin, right before her palace, incognito.
"They seek to overthrow monarchs. The man leading them, Olivier Cromwell, believes himself on a mission from God and will stop at nothing to see his goal realized." Well that was a vaguely familiar name. If he recalled correctly from his history classes, Cromwell was the guy that tried installing some weird new government in England after his people executed the last king. He then died and things went back to normal, but not without a few extras to spice up the previous monarchy. Eddie wasn't much of a history buff, but having another guy fulfilling a very similar – if not identical – mission here was one hell of a coincidence.
"Sounds like a rough deal. Why not go and curb them though?"
"They have formidable numbers by their side… big enough to blindside the royal family of Albion." Oh yeah, that was the floating island nation thingy. He recalled Louise mention that a few times.
"And I don't suppose other kingdoms want to help?" Henrietta smiled again, but this time it was more of a grimace than anything.
"Tristain is not prepared to defend itself from a superior foe, much less attack him in their home territory. My hands, loathe as I am to admit it, are tied." Long, tired sigh. "…Germania has its own worries, but I am sure you know well of them. Gallia is apathetic to the plight of the world and Romalia… I don't know if I want them involved." Henrietta shook her head and squished her cheeks together in an attempt to get some bearings. That was one determined look, Eddie thought. "Anyway, I am sorry to bore you with politics. Thank you once more for walking me… home." The princess hesitated for a moment, as if considering something else to say.
"Something on your mind?" She seemed to ponder that question herself a few more moments before she took the ring off her finger and presented it to him. It bore the azure blue fleur-de-lis carved out in tasteful silver that didn't go out of its way to be too outlandish. That was, as far as Eddie recognized, a symbol of Tristania and a symbol of royal authority. A signet-ring. "W-whoa, hey, wait, I can't take this."
"That's the least I can give for saving my life, Sir Ed." The princess smiled. "With this ring, you can ask any favor of my men and the nation of Tristain. Think on it, if you will." Reluctantly, Eddie reached out for the ring, noting how tiny it was in his hand. "Safe travels to you." Smiling one more time she turned to leave, soon disappearing in alleyways she knew were safe and led directly onto the palace grounds.
Eddie Riggs, for lack of a better word, was still slightly stupefied at having gained favor with the ruler of the land herself.
"What is the matter? You look out of it." That was an odd look, Kirche thought, and one completely unbefitting of this burly barbarian.
She carried both Derflinger and Battle Cry with her. Winning the second blade from the swordsmith proved a child's play. She didn't even have to go very far; her shirt was barely undone by the time they were finished. Perhaps he thought that she would be haggling in a more… orthodox style, but in the end, despite cutting the price of the ancient blade of Ed's people by four fifths, he seemed pleased with the development. Derf too seemed pleased, the little lecher.
"Oi, buddy, snap out of it." The other ancient blade called out to Ed, and this time the Germanian skald managed to look towards them.
"Oh, sorry, I was just… thinking? Thinking." That didn't sound very convincing to Kirche, but it felt rude to press the issue when he was their designated driver. "I… I guess I saved someone's bacon while waiting for you."
"Is that so? That's no reason to space out like that."
"She… uh, she might have been important." Oooh, spicy news! Now that the redhead had to hear.
"Do tell more! That's certainly no reason to be despondent. Look at you, already making waves with Tristanian cream of the crop." Ha, if only she knew. Eddie was smart enough to tell that gossiping about the princess leaving the palace under a commoner's guise would end in tears for everyone involved.
"I dunno, she didn't give me her title or anything. She just seemed important, I guess."
"And what, pray tell, did you help her with?"
"I might have saved her from losing her life. Some thugs jumped her in an alleyway."
"Ah, to have a noble lady in your debt… I can't help but wonder what you would ask her for~"
"Don't make it weird, Kirche…" He grumbled, fighting off a stupid compulsion to blush. The redhead laughed heartily and leaned back.
"Still, that is no small feat, being not just a commoner, but a foreign commoner that can ask whatever they desire from such a superior party." Ed might not have been an ordinary commoner, all in all, but the rules still applied. "Truly worthy of praise."
"An act of saving another is never a wrong one, no matter their station."
Kirche and Derf yelped when the Deuce suddenly swerved for no discernible reason, on a crash course with a nearby pine tree. Thankfully Eddie managed to turn the vehicle sharply to the side to avoid certain doom, but the sudden impact of braking nearly catapulted them out of their seats. "…dude… Derf, don't fucking do that." The roadie groaned after a moment once they all started coming down from the adrenaline of nearly getting all killed in Helkeginia's possibly first ever car accident.
"…what? I didn't do nothing." Kirche blinked, then she blinked again and looked at the other sword she was holding.
"…that would be me." Battle Cry, Lars Halford's blade, spoke in his voice. Eddie stared at the familiar sword, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, caught in complete shock. "And I am pleased to see you again, Edward."
There's a new chapter. I can't promise frequent uploads yet, but it should be faster than it was a while back. Stuff is happening however, and there's more to come. As always, please read and review.