Hi there! What? No, I'm not dead. Thanks for asking. Yes, this update was a long time coming, but life, etc. Have a long chapter as an apology. Enjoy!


Of all the things that were to happen to him in this world, being hospitalized was not one of Robin's favorite activities. In fact, it was the opposite. Being in a state of such pain that he had to be rendered immobile and have medical treatment was a situation that Robin preferred to avoid as much as possible. Of course, them now being officially at war, there was a very real chance that the Shepherds would sustain injuries of varying degrees of grievosity. After all, that was what war was all about, and being injured was a preferable alternative to being dead. That much was obvious. Besides, if Robin got hurt, then at least he had a nice tale of heroism to tell. He was sure that when he got injured enough to warrant medical treatment, it would be because he was busy taking hits for his friends or stalling the enemy long enough for civilians to escape, or something along those lines. Of course, the world was not a perfect place and fate continued to be cruel. Robin thought these things when he regained consciousness and found himself in the medical tent. After the grogginess and nausea passed, he looked around and try to find out what happened and how long he has been cooped in here. The answers were…less than ideal.

It turned out that Sumia falling on him from gods know how high (in full armor, no less) had unfortunate consequences for his body. More specifically, he broke numerous bones, had a pretty nasty concussion and other, injuries not worth mentioning. His full diagnosis was given to him by Lissa, who was still playing the role of chief medical examiner and healer until they reached the capital and she could finally get herself a Pegasus. She also informed him that because of his injuries, he was out cold for three whole days and would need another four to fully recover.

Well…that was…huh. Robin had suffered injuries that were possibly worse than anything that had so far been inflicted on him during battle. What's more, he would be out of commission for a full week…all because one of his friends fell off her Pegasus on top of him. Now that didn't exactly make for a fine tale of bravery and heroism to tell his children. 'Hey kids, let me tell you that one time one of daddy's friends fell on him and he got hurt so bad that he was out for a week!' didn't have quite the same ring to it as 'hey kids, let daddy tell you about that one time he took on an entire group of wyvern riders by himself to buy time for the innocent civilians to get to safety!' or 'hey kids, did daddy ever tell you of that one time when he sliced and diced through a horde of Risen to get to his injured best friend and heroically drag him to rejoin the others while fighting off the Risen, with ONE HAND?' Yeah…those last two definitely sounded better than the first one. The first one sounded like one of those stories you want swept under a rug and forget it ever happened. That, or that one hilarious story that you bring up with your friends when drinking or playing card games or whatever. Everyone would remember and laugh and tease the person in question. Eventually, the person in question would also look back at this situation and laugh. To be fair, it did seem pretty funny and Robin would probably laugh if his ribs didn't hurt so much.

Well, despite the unfortunate situation in which he currently found himself in, Robin was a man who liked to look on the bright side. In this case, the bright side being that his arms still functioned as normal which meant that he could still carry out his tactician's duties as normal. Reading, reporting and planning all continued as before (but actual writing had to stop because no desk). Robin also got guests, which was always nice.

Sumia was his most frequent visitor, for obvious reasons. She felt really, really guilty about what happened, despite Robin's assurances that it was no one's fault (which was somewhat true. It wasn't really her fault but at the same time, it kinda was). So, she visited him practically every day, brought him books to read, new reports, news, gossip and, most importantly, guilt/help-you-recover-quicker pies. Gods, Sumia's pies continued to be as amazing as Robin remembered them to be. Having Sumia around was also nice. She spent time with him talking about various different things and, more importantly, books they both read and haven't read. Ah, the book discussions they had! Robin swore that by the end of his stay in the tent, that's basically all he and Sumia talked about. So much so that they decided to found a club where they read and discussed books. Now, Robin could proudly say that he was a member and co-founder of Robin & Sumia's Book Club. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, having is name on something. Granted, it was a simple book club without any official papers, functions and had only two members but still! He could proudly say that he was the 'Robin' of 'Robin & Sumia's Book Club'. He was literally half the club!

Of course, Sumia wasn't the only one who visited him (she was just the most frequent one). All the Shepherds came to him at some point or another to wish him well (and make witty remarks on how he received his injuries). So, Robin could say that he did not lack company during his hospital stay. But, no matter how pleasant the company was during his hospital stay, it did not distract him from the fact that it was still a hospital stay. So, when the week was over and Robin felt neither pain nor discomfort when breathing, he was immensely glad to be discharged and back in his tent.

Robin managed to sit down before Sumia came to visit him again. She just wanted to see how he was feeling, apologize (for the hundredth time) and drop off another pie (strawberry. Score!) Robin thanked her again, assured her that he was fine and quickly discussed the reading material for their next meeting. After saying their goodbyes, Robin relaxed in his chair. As much as he enjoyed her company, he was really glad to be back at his desk and handling his own affairs. Now, Sumia was a nice girl, she really was, but that didn't take away from the fact that she was practically a walking disaster area. Robin didn't think that there was a single time when nothing happened when she came to visit him and brought reports. The papers were either dropped in a puddle, or crumpled, or a disorganized mess, or some other thing that made them almost illegible.

It was like having a pretty but incompetent assistant. On the one hand, she was really cute and sweet. On the other hand, the assistant actually did more harm than good. But despite everything that happened and all the reports that got ruined, Sumia tried so damn hard that Robin couldn't ever get angry at her. If anything, it made him admire the effort she put and the lengths she went to. Besides, the books she brought usually survived whatever happened to her. So did the pies. The pies were key. Just like the one on his desk. Gods, Sumia's strawberry pie. She really did spoil him sometimes.

"Robin, you in there?"

The tactician looked up. Of course there would be someone coming in just when he was about to dig in. Well, whoever they were, they weren't going to stop him. Not this time.

"Yes, come in."

Chrom entered the tent as Robin was cutting himself a piece of pie.

"Hey Robin, how's my favorite tactician doing?"

"Wha-? What do you mean, 'favorite' tactician? Chrom, are you cheating on me? Have you been looking at other tacticians behind my back?"

"Of course not! Don't be crazy! I would never cheat on you with other tacticians. You're the only one for me."

"Hrmph. That's quite the denial there. It sounds like something a guilty party would say to ease his tactician's fears, before firing said tactician in favor of someone younger and better looking!"

Chrom managed to keep a straight face and raised one hand in the air. "Robin, let me swear to you here and now, as the crown prince of Ylisse, that I have no intention to replace you now or in the future. I give you my word. There, does that make you feel better?"

The tactician looked at him for a few seconds before shrugging. "I guess that'll do. Besides, there's no way you can find someone better looking than me."

Chrom shook his head and chuckled. "I see that someone has made a full recovery, his ego included."

Robin took a bite of his pie. "Mhmm. Sure did. Healing magic does wonders. So do pies. They make everything better."

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that. Every time I saw you, you always had a pie on you. How'd that happen? If I didn't know better, I'd say you got yourself a personal chef."

"Ha! I wish I had a personal chef. Then again, it's almost like I do. She just doesn't cook for me all the time."

"She?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, Sumia. These are her pies. They're soooo good!"

"Sumia makes pies? Huh. By your excitement, they seem pretty good."

"So very good."

"Can I have some?"

Robin stopped eating and took a long, hard look at his best friend. "Chrom, did Sumia recently fall on you?"

"What? No."

"So you didn't suffer injuries that resulted in you getting hospitalized because Sumia fell on you?"

"No."

"Then no pie for you."

"What, really? Just like that you dismiss me?"

"Sorry Chrom, but only I'm entitled to these pies. These are no ordinary pies. If they were, you'd be entitled to whatever portion you would like. But no, these are Sumia's patented guilt/get-well-soon pies. They are a result of her feeling really bad about the whole incident and something to speed up my recovery. Well, they were. The one I'm currently eating is the final apology/glad-you-got-better pie. If anything, it make this one even more special since there is going to be only one of them. So no, you can't have one."

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Wow Robin, you've really thought about this, huh?"

The tactician shrugged. "Hey, pie etiquette is very clear about these things. I don't make up the rules."

"Alright, how about this: I'm your best friend and visited you while you were hurt. Kept you company and all that. I think I was your second most frequent visitor. Also, it was my sister who did the healing. Doesn't that at least allow me to have a small piece of the pie?"

Robin thought for a moment. "I…suppose you can get the 'best friend' slice. Although you should know that, by your logic, Lissa should also get one. Actually, the 'saved my life/healed me' slice is bigger than the 'best friend' slice."

"That's alright. Since she's not here, I'll be happy to accept the slice on her behalf. In fact, you can combine her slice with mine and we'll call it even."

Robin chuckled as he cut a piece. "Very sneaky, Chrom. You know, if the whole prince thing doesn't work out, I have a feeling you'd make a fine lawyer."

"Maybe. Then again, that's why I have you! Mmm…Mm! You weren't kidding. This pie is amazing!"

Robin smiled. "See? Told you. Sumia sure does know what she's doing when it comes to pies. She's like a master of pie chefs or something."

"She sure is." Chrom devoured his pie piece in a blink of an eye and smiled in satisfaction. "That was some good pie."

Robin cut himself another piece. "It sure is."

"Can I have another piece?"

"Chrom, you're my best friend and I love you like a brother. But don't push it. The rules of Sumia's special pies are very clearly written and you've already had your piece. Enjoy the memory and the taste. That's all you can do because who knows when or if we get another serving of special occasion pie."

"What? You can't be serious. Robin, I-wait!"

"Yes?"

"You said that you 'loved me like a brother.'"

"I did say that, yes. Why?"

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, that elevates me to the status of 'almost brother'. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that status is clearly higher than simple 'best friend' and deserves its own, separate –and proportionally bigger- piece of pie. Isn't that right?"

Robin opened his mouth to protest before actually considering Chrom's words. They did make some sort of sense. Robin did admit to having a brotherly love toward Chrom. And since he did admit this, it elevated Chrom to a new level of best frienditude and entitled him to a bigger slice of the pie. Quite literally. And no matter how much Robin thought, it all made total sense.

"Curses," muttered the tactician as he slowly cut a bigger piece of pie for his friend. "Never in a thousand years did I expect someone to use my own logic against me. Here's your slice, future attorney at law."

"Why thank you, my dear associate. I look forward to getting more pie from you in the future. Mmm…soh ghood…"

"Alright you pie stealer, did you come here to just to steal my pie or was there something else you needed?"

"Hm? What? Oh, right." Chrom finished eating his pie before clearing his throat. "Good stuff. Anyway, I wanted to see how you were doing and congratulate you on your recovery."

"Yep. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine and healed. Your visit is appreciated. Anything else?"

"Yes. Something serious. It concerns Lissa."

"Chrom, I know that you're concerned that Lissa's going to fight on the front lines soon, but I can assure you that she's ready. The Second Seal has everything she needs to know about Pegasi and Sumia's been training her in combat. By the time she'll get her own, Lissa will be ready and able to fight. She's going to be in no more danger than the rest of us. Trust me."

"No, it's not that! Well, not entirely. I do trust you and your judgement, Robin. You've carried us this far and given me no reason to doubt your abilities. But Lissa's deployment on the frontlines isn't why I'm here."

"Oh? Something else, then?"

"Yes." Chrom said gravely. "Our informants in Plegia tell me that there is a plot on her life."

Robin frowned. "Just her or all of you?"

"Just her. I don't know why, but if I had to guess, it's probably because they see her as the easiest target. Emm's the Exalt and guarded around the clock and I'm the leader of the Shepherds. Although we're both in camp, I'd assume that they think Lissa'll be an easier target."

"Grave news, indeed. What do you need me to do?"

"I was wondering if you could assign Lissa a bodyguard. Being our tactician, you know everyone's strengths and weaknesses and can decide who's the most qualified for this position."

"A bodyguard of Lissa? Why not just assign Frederick?"

"I've considered it. Frederick is very loyal, trustworthy and experienced. However, his loyalty is to House Ylisse. If we're all on the battlefield, I don't want his attention split between myself and Lissa. I know he'll do everything in his power to protect her, but I also know that he'll be worrying about my safety as well. That is a distraction that can prove deadly on the battlefield."

"Hm, good point. Alright, let's see here…" Robin took out his roster and mumbled to himself as he looked over it. After a few minutes, he seemed to come to a decision. "Alright, I'll assign Lon'qu."

"Lon'qu?" asked Chrom, clearly surprised.

"Yep. I finally got how to pronounce his name right. Having a week to yourself really doesn't leave that much to do. What's wrong?"

"Well…it's just…" Chrom hesitated before continuing. "I know that Basilio recommended him to us and that he's trustworthy. But..."

"Buuut…?"

"I don't know. This is my younger sister, Robin! I'd prefer someone I knew to look after her. Besides, Lon'qu seems really distant, with his gynophobia and all. Are you sure there's no one better?"

"Chrom, you came to be to find a suitable bodyguard for your sister. I am doing just that. You do trust my judgment, right?"

"I do, it's just…"

"Think of it this way: Lon'qu is the best candidate for this job because he's attentive, fast and deadly. He's always alert, so he'll see the assassins and their plots. He's fast enough to close the distance between himself and Lissa if the assassins come after her and he kills things very, very well. Heck, you've seen him in combat. I think you'll agree he's one of the best fighters here." Robin paused before muttering, "And it'll give Lissa something nice to look at."

"What was that?"

"Hm?"

"I didn't quite catch the last part of what you were saying."

"Oh, uh…he's very, very good at killing things?"

"No, not that. Didn't you say something else after that?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure? I swear you-"

"Nope and nope. I said that Lon'qu's good at killing things and then I stopped talking. Yep. That's totally what happened. Did not say anything else after that. Nothing whatsoever."

Chrom have Robin a questioning glace but otherwise said nothing.

The tactician cleared his throat. "Er, right. Anyway, if not Lon'qu or Frederick, who else would you trust with your sister's safety? Sumia?"

"No…"

"Maribelle?"

"No."

"Vaike?"

"Gods, no!"

"There you go. Lon'qu it is." Robin paused before adding, "I understand your concerns, but trust me, I know what I'm doing. Lon'qu's good. Lissa'll be safe with him around."

Chrom looked like he was going to say something before sighing. "Alright. The thought of someone I don't know very well guarding my sister may make me a bit uncomfortable, but he's probably the best one for the job."

Robin stood up and patted him friend on the shoulder. "I really believe he is. I'm sorry that I can't be the one to do this, Chrom. I would gladly guard your sister, but I'm working out new strategies with the people we have and that requires certain combinations in battle."

"Of course. I understand completely. Being our tactician, you know the best battle combinations and I wouldn't want to sacrifice our unit cohesion if you thought there was someone besides yourself who could guard her." Chrom sighed. "Well, I guess I'd better inform Lon'qu of his new duties."

"You want to do it yourself?"

"Yes. I think that coming from me will make it sound more official." Chorm grinned before adding, "And I think he'll be less likely to see it as a cruel joke if I tell him of his new duties."

Robin opened his mouth to protest…and promptly closed it at Chrom's pointed (and amused) look.

"Fine. You tell him. Actually, in different circumstances, this does sound like a joke I'd pull on him. Heh heh. The gynophobic swordsman and the cheery, outgoing princess. I bet they'd make a great comedy duo."

Chrom chuckled. "Yeah. Maybe once this whole mess is over, that's what they'll do. From what I hear, Lissa's already got started."

"Yeah…at least that way, it'll give her more people for her to focus on and I'll finally be free of her froggy reign of terror."

"One can always hope. Anyway, I'm off to tell Lon'qu the good news. It's good to have to back at full health, Robin."

"Thanks, Chrom. It's good to be at full health."

Once his friend left the tent, Robin sat back down and looked at his desk. He then sighed. Talking about the Lissa situation temporarily took his mind off of his pie. Now that Robin looked down, he realized that Chrom logiced his way into getting half of the pie. Combined with the pieces that he had already eaten, Robin only had about a small piece left. Blast. This pie was strawberry, too!

As he was lamenting the loss of most of his pie and coming up with ways to not share future pies, Robin heard someone outside his tent.

"Um, Robin? You in there?"

"Yes, come in."

Robin didn't know what to expect. The voice wasn't familiar and he didn't think he ever heard it before. Well, whatever the expectations he did (or didn't) have, Robin was certainly not prepared to see a young boy enter his tent. A young boy dressed in oversized mage garb, too.

"Uh, hey Robin. How're you feeling?"

"Better, thanks." Robin paused. "So, what're you doing here in our camp, kid? A war zone's no place for someone your age. Did you get lost or something?"

The kid looked surprised before frowning. "Hey! Don't talk down to me! I'm not a kid!"

Now it was Robin's turn to look surprised. He blinked twice, looked the kid up and down before saying, "Yes you are."

"Am not!" replied the kid indignantly.

"Are too." Robin countered. "Look, I may not know or remember much because of the amnesia, but the one thing I do know is that my eyes still work and generally don't lie. And what they see now is a little kid."

Before the kid could argue, Robin continued, "I mean, come on. Even you have to admit that you're the younger end of the scale. I bet you didn't even hit puberty yet, I am right?"

The kid hesitated. "Well, no...I don't think. But I'm old enough! It'll probably hit any day now. Once that happens, I'll be tall and strong and no one will look down on me ever again!"

"Sure. Whatever you say. But until this time, you're still a kid in the middle of a camp or armed individuals at war. So, seriously, what're you doing here? Lost? One of the civilians we rescued and now need escorting back to your village or something?"

"What? No! This is where I belong."

"Oh this should be good. Alright kid, I'll bite. Tell me why you think you belong in this camp full of professional soldiers preparing for war."

"Because," said the kid confidently, "I'm a Shepherd, too!"

Robin remained silent before bursting into laughter. Meanwhile, the kid just stared in confusion.

"Hey, what's so funny?"

"Y-you! What you said! A-a Shepard, you? That's…that's…" and Robin continued to laugh uncontrollably.

"It's true!" exclaimed the kid. "I'm a certified Shepherd and everything! How can you not remember? You were even there when I made my debut!"

Robin couldn't reply as he was still laughing…and continued laughing for a good few minutes afterward. Eventually, he calmed himself down enough to form coherent sentences.

"Oh, I needed that. What a great way to celebrate coming back. I get pie and a good laugh." Robin cleared his throat before continuing. "Now, let me give you three reasons why I have a hard time believing that you're a Shepherd. Firstly, I totally don't remember you doing any rescuing of Maribelle. Secondly, I have here a list of all the Shepherds. All of them. And I'd bet money that if I take a look at the roster, I'm not going to find your name. Thirdly, we need professional soldiers here. No offense, but I'm not sure you qualify for this position. I mean, all of us here have got countless hours of training and combat experience under our belts. Even Sumia, who only started fighting recently. You look like you should still be in mage school. And finally, you're just a kid. Having you go and fight in a war would be unethical. Isn't that against our code of conduct or something?"

The kid looked at Robin with wide eyes. "Okay, that's actually four things. But more importantly, how can you not remember me? Not only were you there when I helped rescue Maribelle, you were also there the night before when I asked to tag along."

Robin shrugged. "I don't know. I was probably thinking of more important things at the moment. Being a tactician calls for zoning out at certain points in order to focus on the bigger picture and upcoming battles. Or just general zoning out. Letting your mind wander really does wonders for the stress and relieving it."

"Uh…sure? But seriously, I'm a Shepherd! Come on, just look at your list. If it's as comprehensive as you say, I'm bound to be on it!"

"…Fine. I guess I'll humor you, but don't expect anything out of this." Robin said as he reached into his sleeves and looked at the roster. "Yep, just as I thought. Nothing. 'Ricken' is the only name here that I don't recognize."

"Well, you should. That's me!" exclaimed the kid.

"Look, it's not that I don't believe you, it's just that I don't believe you. 'Ricken' doesn't sound like a name for a little boy. I feel like it should belong to a barbarian or something. Someone tall, muscular and maybe wielding an axe. Definitely not a little mage kid."

"Come on! I'm not a little kid and I'm definitely Ricken!" insisted not-Ricken. "How can you be so sure that that's not me on the roster based solely on the name?"

"It's a hunch." Robin said simply. "Besides, your name may or may not be Ricken, but I'm positive that you're not the Ricken here. I already stated the reasons why."

Maybe-but-probably-not-Ricken groaned in frustration. "You know, you could just ask the other Shepherds about, right? I'm sure they'll vouch for me and we can easily sort this thing out."

"I could do that. Still doesn't solve the other problems, though. I don't think the others will appreciate my hiring a kid to fight on the frontlines."

"But you already have! What about Lissa?"

"She's royalty and Chrom's daughter! She outranks me and can do whatever she wants. Besides, not only is she not content with sitting in the castle doing nothing, she wants to help out and I don't think Chrom wants her left alone."

"How about Maribelle? You let her stay."

"She's Lissa's friend. If she wants to tag along and if Lissa wants her come, there's really nothing I can do about that. Besides, she's now going to be our only healer. That's pretty key."

"Then what about Donnel? He's about as young as me and has even less training, but is still a Shepherd."

"…Who?"

"You know, Donnel. That villager who joined us a while back?"

Robin blinked and shook his head. "See, now I definitely know that you're lying. Chrom knows better than just picking a random stranger out of the ground and letting them join the Shepherds."

"…Isn't that how you got your job?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that Chrom should know better by now. Besides, recruiting an untrained villager kid? That's just crazy talk!"

"It's not crazy talk, it's true! Just see for yourself. I saw Donnel training on my way over here."

Robin sighed. "You know, I really should stop humoring you." He then walked to the other end of his tent, pushed aside the flap and gazed out on the training grounds.

"Alright, I'm looking at the training grounds now. Where is this so…called…" Robin trailed off as his eyes fell on a figure that he did not recognize. Sure enough, the boy looked not much older that maybe-Ricken and was swinging a lace wildly trying (and failing) to hit the practice dummy right in front of him.

Robin stared unbelievingly at the kid on the training grounds. After a moment, he turned to the (other) kid in his tent. "How long has he been with us?"

"About a week."

"So, what? We've just, accepted him just like that? No background check? No skill assessment? Nothing?"

"Pretty much. Chrom thought he looked capable and trustworthy enough, so why not?"

"Just taking random people off the streets. I'm going to have a very long talk with Chrom about this. What the hell was he thinking?" Robin muttered as he made his way to his desk, took out his pen and started scribbling furiously on the roster.

As the tactician continued muttering and writing, possibly-Ricken shifted uncomfortably. He stood there in silence before slowly venturing, "Uh, are you alright?"

"Peachy." Robin stopped writing and looked up. "Since everything I thought I knew turned out to be wrong, apparently the Shepherds are now accepting applications from kids no matter how poorly trained they are. I guess that also means you're a Shepherd. Congratulations, kid. It appears you actually were the Ricken that my list was referring to."

"You bet I was. And I'm now even more officially a Shepherd. Woo!"

At Robin's dour expression, definitely-Ricken coughed in embarrassment and added, "Well hey, at least you know that I actually got some training."

"I do?"

"Of course. Before this whole thing with Plegia blew up, I was in mage school. Top of my class, too." Ricken said proudly. "Graduated to El-level spells and I'd say I'm pretty good. Want me to prove it? I brought my Elwind tome with me."

Robin suddenly perked up. "You have an Elwind tome with you?"

"Right here." Ricken proceeded to take out a green tome. "I've learned some pretty neat tricks with it. Watch, I call this one th-"

"Alright! Great stuff. Neat trick. Can I see your tome?"

"But I didn't even show you anything."

"Don't worry, I know it's simply amazing. But seriously, tome. Gimme."

Before Ricken could answer, someone quickly rushed into Robin's tent.

"Robin! Excuse the intrusion, but I simply had to see if news of your recovery were true."

"Oh, hey Maribelle!" greeted Robin, somewhat surprised. "Yeah, made a full recovery and am now fine and dandy. I didn't know you cared."

"Of course I care. When the general wellbeing of our head tactician is at stake, how could I not care? Oh, I see I'm not the only one. Greetings, Ricken. Here to inquire about Robin's health?"

"Hey Maribelle. Yeah, something like that."

"You two know each other? That's wonderful. Saves me the trouble of having to verify Ricken and all that paperwork."

"Of course we know each other. Why, just the other week dear Ricken here rescued me from the vile clutches of that Plegian king and his lackeys." Maribelle turned to Ricken and bowed. "You have my eternal gratitude, Ricken. I am forever in your debt."

The young mage blushed. "T-thanks, Maribelle. But you don't have to keep thanking me. I just did what anyone else would've done."

"Nonsense! Your actions went above and beyond what just 'anyone' would've done." The noblewoman proclaimed. "Why, if it were not for you, I would be-"

"Alright, alright." Robin interrupted. "Save your thanks and whatever for interactions that don't happen in my tent. Ricken, your saving Maribelle apparently happened and so solidifies your positon among us. Maribelle, you've been with Vaike for a week and word on the street has it that you two are getting along quite nicely. I congratulate your interaction with us 'unwashed masses' and not antagonizing yourself."

"Ah, yes. Vaike. The past week has been most…educational. It is who should be thanking you, Robin. I have learned much after having spent time with him."

"Great! So you'd be willing to put up with him for longer, then?"

"Robin, please don't misunderstand!" Maribelle said quickly. "While I did find my spending time with Vaike educational, it is not an experience I would like to repeat. Besides, I recall that you said you would change my partner after a week if I managed to tolerate Vaike. Well, I have and it's now a week later."

"Ah. And here I thought you came to be out of the goodness of your heart and general concern for my wellbeing…"

"But of course I did! That was simply not the only reason I came to see you. Can one not combine a personal visit with a business one?"

"Well, when you put it that way, why not? One thing though: the details of our arrangement were that I would consider giving you another partner after a week. The question is, do I think you deserve one?" Robin asked and slid back in his chair. After a few moments of silence and observing the desperate look of Maribelle's face, he decided to spare her.

"Well, I suppose you did put up with 'The Vaike' for a full week. That probably took a lot of patience. Fine. I'll assign you someone else. Hopefully you can put all that you've learned to good use!" Robin's eyes then traveled to the other occupant in the room and he suddenly got an idea. "In fact, I've already got someone in mind. He's actually in this very tent."

Maribelle turned around then back to Robin. "Ricken?"

"Huh?"

"That's right!" said the tactician brightly. "Ricken here's our newest member to make his debut. And who better to babysi-er, show him the ropes than our resident troubadour? It'll be a cultural exchange, again, for the very first time. You two are both adept at magic and can teach each other about the ways of the commoner and the nobility. Doesn't that just sound swell?"

"Uh, Robin? I'm not actually a commo-mmph!" Ricken began to say before Maribelle quickly covered his mouth with her hand.

"Now dear, hush. Robin has assigned us to each other so why don't we make the most of it, hm? I believe it is for the best, after all. Thank you, Robin. We shall begin our 'hanging out' post-haste!"

"Wait! Before you go off and do whatever, I'm going to have to ask Ricken to hand over his Elwind tome."

"What? Why?"

"Now Ricken, don't go questioning Robin. He's our tactician and wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important. Let's just give him the tome and be off on our way." Maribelle said quickly before taking the tome from Ricken's hands, handing it to Robin and proceeding to drag Ricken out of the tent. "Alright, there you go. Now, we're off to get better acquainted. Goodbye, Robin!"

"Uh, yeah. Bye." Ricken said confusedly as he was being dragged outside. "Maribelle, are you alright? You're acting very strange…"

"Ricken, I shall explain everything later. But for now, I need you to play along."

"Play along with what? What's happening?"

"Not here. Come along."

The conversation continued, but Robin stopped paying attention a while ago. Now, the only thing that mattered was the tome in his hand. An Elwind tome. And Elwind tome. As in, a tome with stronger wind powers. One that he could finally use effectively against enemy wyvern riders and actually kill them instead of just pissing them off. Oh, the possibilities! Just the thought of actually killing wyvern riders with one hit got Robin excited for their next skirmish. Now, he would show them! Now, he had a proper weapon against wyverns that wasn't the stock wind tomes that did absolutely nothing! Oh yes, the next time he met wyvern riders in combat, he would be ready and waiting to knock them out of the sky! He would actually kill them before they got close enough to try and bite his face off. Gods, to think that Robin actually considered shelling up the cash and buying overpriced wind tomes from the merchants. Now, he had one for the very reasonable price of nothing. How he loved it when things came together!

"Robin? Permit me to enter."

"Hmm? Oh, come it."

Right. He was still at work. Fictional wyvern slaying would have to wait.

Miriel entered the tent.

"Robin, it is good to see you back in full form."

"Thanks Miriel. I'm touched that you care. Now, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"I'm glad that you asked," said the mage as she deposited a stack of papers on Robin's desk. "My visit today concerns the assignment you have given me and its results."

"Uh…" Robin looked at pile of documents warily. "That sure is a lot of writing, Miriel. Have you brought the entire report of your investigation?"

"A copy, yes."

Robin turned to look incredulously at the mage. "A copy?! There's hundreds of pages here! And they're all handwritten! Did you just write your report twice?"

"Thrice."

"Thrice?!"

"Thrice." Miriel repeated. "I like to have all my reports and findings on paper and in triplicate, in case something unfortunate were to transpire to the original. It would be most inconvenient if I were to look back on some of my work only to find it damaged or missing. Most unacceptable."

"Uh…huh. Right. Well, moving on. I see this is about Stahl's averageness. Right. I did give you that one, didn't I?"

"Indeed. It was a most fascinating and productive assignment. I must thank you for giving me this valuable subject to research."

"Hey, that's me! A well bursting with scientific…assignments and…stuff." Robin cleared his throat. "So, what did you find?"

"It was the most peculiar thing." Miriel said as she took out her own copy of the report. "I was aware of Stahl's reputation of complete and utter averageness. However, to get to the source, I had him perform a few routine exercises and recorded the results. They can be found on page 55."

Robin flipped to the indicated pages.

"As you can see, the results of his training are written next to the activity he performed. Of course, it is insufficient to have one sample. If one is to conduct a proper investigation, there needs to be something to compare the control sample to."

"Right…"

"Thus, I have decided to observe and record the training regimes of all Shepherds. Those can be found here, on page 114. As you can see, there are areas where certain Shepherds excel and others lag. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses in one area or another. Now, when you take those results and compare them to Stahl's performance, you notice something truly peculiar."

"He performs at the exact median."

"Precisely. Be it arm strength, running, stamina, or anything else, he is perfectly average. If I didn't know better, I'd say that my methodology was flawed. It's something of a scientific miracle that he manages to be so completely unoutstanding."

"But how can that be?" asked Robin. "There has to be an explanation! He can't just magically be average at everything…can he?"

"He is average, but not by magical means. I have also been puzzled by these results. However, the answer shall soon become clear. If you would skip to page 194."

"Right. What am I looking at?"

"Those graphs are the results of my observations of various Shepherds performing different training exercises. I have compiled the results and drawn them in a graph. Each one of these graphs illustrates which training exercises undertook, for how long and the results. Now, if you would please look at figure 3.6 on page 230. This graph illustrates the amalgamation of all the exercises of all the Shepherds and the results achieved."

"Okay…"

"As you can see, Stahl remains at the very center of the graph and at the top of the bell curve. That would reinforce his position as perfectly average. But, to understand how that happened, we must turn the page and focus on figures 4.0-6.5. As you can see, there is Stahl's performance over the weeks and the results. The line in the middle gradually increases as he trains and improves his skills."

Robin nodded. "Yes, that is to be expected. You train and improve. What makes him so special?"

"Ah, that becomes clear when you compare his results with that of the other Shepherds. Do you notice a pattern?"

Robin looked down at the various different graphs. At this point in time, he really wished he was smarter. It took all of his effort to look at the graphs and not at Miriel's observations written neatly on the sides. Gods, he knew that if he started, he would get lost trying to decipher what the hell she was saying. Oh well, at least graphs were easy. Speaking of which…

Robin leaned closer to see if his eyes were deceiving him. He then turned to look up at Miriel.

"It's true," said the mage. "As you can see, Stahl's gradual improvement has directly affected the other Shepherds. In fact, as he has trained and honed his skills, other Shepherds have trained by the exact same amount. Thus, their improvements were directly proportional to that of Stahl. So, despite all of his training, the other Shepherds improved by the same amount, keeping Stahl as the exact mean."

"But…how?"

"My conclusion is that everyone in the army is aware that Stahl is the most average soldier. Therefore, when they see him improve, they feel compelled to improve as well. In this way, they are able to avoid falling below the expected mean."

"Wow," breathed Robin. "That sounds crazy yet makes total sense."

"Indeed."

"So…based on these graphs here, you pushed Stahl pretty hard."

"It was all in the pursuit of knowledge. Moreover, I have chosen training regimes that are within his ability. It would be counterproductive for the investigation if he were to suddenly collapse from exhaustion."

"Well, that makes sense, I guess." Robin thought for a moment before an idea came to him. "Wait, so your research says that Stahl is the exact median and that everyone improves as he does, right?"

"That is my conclusion, yes."

"Excellent. I can use this." Robin rubbed his hands gleefully. "I can weaponize this after all. All I need to do is push Stahl to his limit. This way, everyone improves. It's genius! Miriel, you have done us a great service this day. I must thank you."

The mage adjusted her glasses. "Nonsense. It was all in the pursuit of knowledge and answers. You gave me an interesting area of research and I conducted my investigation."

If Robin didn't know better, you would've thought that Miriel smiled just then. Of course, being Miriel, that was preposterous. She didn't smile. Robin actually thought her physically incapable of doing so.

"I thank you for giving me this field of research, Robin. If you have any more suggestions, I would be interested to hear them."

"Hm? Oh, yes. Well, there was one thing I had in mind. But before that, tell me: you observed all the Shepherds training, right?"

"That is correct."

"Great. So, where do I fall in this whole thing?"

"Overall, your performance was…here." Miriel pointed to a dot on the graph.

Robin looked down and felt quite proud of himself. "Huh, not too shabby! Above average all around! Yeah."

"Of course, this was prior to your incapacitation."

The smile quickly disappeared from his face. "What?"

"These results include the harder training regimens that the Shepherds have undertaken in the past week. The same week that you have spent in the healing tent. Consequently, you have not improved as all the others have."

Robin felt his heart sink. He also dreaded asking the next question, but he just had to know.

"Alright, so taking into account my absence from the training scene, where am I now?"

Miriel approached his desk and looked at the graph. "By my estimates, your absence has dropped your performance to about…here."

"What?! But that puts me barely above Stahl!"

"Indeed. Actually, taking into account all of the baked pies you have eaten and your lack of exercise, you would more likely be here."

Robin looked to where Miriel pointed to and slumped in his chair. "I-I'm below average?!"

"That is most likely, yes."

This was clearly unacceptable. Robin couldn't be 'below average'! He just couldn't! He was the Shepherds' tactician. As such, he was supposed to be fighting with his friends on the front and keeping them alive and stuff. He couldn't very well do that if we was below average. If anything, they would have to bail him out and he would become the biggest factor that had to be accounted for when he considered things going wrong. This situation had to change and Robin knew exactly what he needed to do to change it.

With his mind made up, he steeled himself and got up.

"Miriel, I thank you for your findings. I shall hold on to this copy of your report for further consultation. You also have my permission to continue pushing Stahl to his limits as this improves us all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to some training to do and get out of being below average."

"Robin, hold a moment!"

"What is it, Miriel? The longer we talk here the more substandard I become!"

"I understand and shall not keep you. I simply wished to inquire whether you had any more suggestions for future investigations that I may pursue."

"I remember I did have something…" Robin thought for a moment. "Of course, that was before the shocking revelations about my substandardness. Wait, yes! I totally did have something for you. Kellam? Kellam! KELLAM!"

"You called?"

"GAH!" Robin shouted in surprise and jumped back ten feet as the knight suddenly materialized right next to him. "Dear Naga! I knew that was coming but it still scared the crap out of me! Man, you have to stop doing that."

"Sorry. But you just-"

"Don't care and doesn't matter." Robin interrupted. "Now, since I'm becoming more substandard with each passing second I spend talking to you here, I'm going to keep this short. Kellam, you have an uncanny ability to remain unnoticed despite the stupidly large armor that you wear everywhere you go. Miriel, you like find answers to questions. My assignment to you, should you choose to accept it, is to find out how Kellam here manages to disappear while not actually disappearing."

Miriel adjusted her glasses. "Yes, I was aware of this peculiar phenomenon for quite some time. However, I was otherwise preoccupied with other matters to investigate it fully. This topic merits further investigation. I accept."

"Great. Wonderful. Miriel, you have my permission to do anything and everything in your power to solve this great mystery." Robin then turned to Kellam. "And you shall do everything she asks of you no matter how small or nonsensical. In order to truly understand your special ability, Miriel must have unimpeded access to the you. Any questions?"

The knight shifted uncertainly. "Um, I actually yes, I was wondering i-"

"Alright! No questions! Great! Let the experiment begin! Class dismissed and all that! I look forward to seeing what you two come up with!" and without waiting for either of them to reply, Robin shot out of his tent and made his way to the training grounds.

'Substandard', 'below average', 'liability' and other such words swirled in Robin's head and fueled his resolve to get better. His pride would not allow him to remain below the accepted median levels of Stahl. He clearly needed to improve hard and fast before their next skirmish. Luckily, Robin knew exactly how to do so.

"Frederick! Frederick!"

The knight raised an eyebrow as Robin ran up to him. "Robin? I see you've made a full recovery. Whatever is the matter? You look like you're running away from the entire Plegian army."

"Yes…thanks…have serious problem…need…help…" panted the tactician.

"I will do anything you require of me." Frederick declared. "How can I help?"

"I…need you to…train me."

"Train you? I fail to see how this is a serious problem."

"It is. Trust me. Long story short: I've been away being all injured while others carried on like before. I need to catch up. And I need you to help me catch up. Give me a training regimen and put me through my paces and whatever. Can you do that?"

Frederick looked at Robin with a stern expression before smiling (and slightly scaring the tactician in the process). "I'm glad that you're finally taking your training seriously, Robin! When you ask me like that, how can I refuse? I shall create a training schedule for you that shall have you fit in no time!"

"That's great! Thanks, Frederick"

"My pleasure. In fact, you are in luck."

"Hm? Why?"

"Because you are just in time for my Fanatical Friday Fitness Funstravaganza! It is the most grueling, challenging and difficult weekly training session overseen by me. There usually aren't many volunteers, but I'm sure that more will become inspired to join and follow your example!"

Robin blanched. All of his survival instincts were screaming at him to forget this whole silly thing and get the hell out of there. Frederick looked like he was going to inflict an unending hell of physical training that would result in tremendous pain to Robin's person. Robin hated pain to his person! The rational part of his mind told him that this was not worth it and that he could train by himself to slowly get back to the level he was at before. Of course, there was also the stubborn and prideful part that refused to be labelled as 'substandard' and demanded he go through with this despite the (very likely) outcome being in a substantial amount of pain. And in the battle of reason vs stubborn pride, the latter usually won because apparently Robin liked to make himself suffer. So, he was going to train and become above average…or die trying. With Frederick personally overseeing his training regimen, dying seemed like a very real possibility. Thus, having made up his mind, Robin slowly took a deep breath, put on a brave face and uttered the words he was sure he'd regret:

"Alright. Let's do this."