A/N: Thanks for the warm reception back, friends!
I continue to wander East, the land gently sloping upwards beneath my feet. I come across a small stream at dusk, the last rays of the sun giving the water a golden, rippling shine.
No one's going to see me out here in the wild, so I put aside my weapons and lie down in the water against a rock and sigh in blissful relief. The constant burning of my skin is still there, but it's muted. I dunk my head beneath the water, too.
... Right, I don't need to breathe. I decide to stay underwater, only periodically peeking out to make sure no one's nearby to steal my bow.
Night falls. I don't want to leave. I entertain myself by blowing a few bubbles in the water. No idea how that works, but it does.
Bwub bwub bwub!
The sun comes up. I drink some Estus to stave off my hunger. I know I should set out again now, but… this is nice.
I might be poisoning the water, though. And I'm not going to be able to fight anyone out here in the middle of nowhere, so I'm not going to get any stronger. That's my goal, right?
I can't help but muse on that as I drift about in the water. Most Souls protagonists die dozens or hundreds of times before they accomplish the goals they set out for. I'm trying to set myself up to be some kind of fantasy hero, but I don't think I could endure dying even one more time.
… I shouldn't have thought about that. The uncomfortable coldness in my chest, ignored for a little while, returns in force. I don't like it. I need to distract myself again.
The moon sure is gorgeous tonight.
"... One… two… three," I rumble, testing my voice out. Why did my ability to speak give out on me earlier? "Fahr… fwuhhh… four…! Fwurghh, fwarghh, fwahhhh… hwarughhh?"
Only managed four words. I'm sure I spoke way more with Atlas, though. Perhaps I have some sort of cooldown?
Bah, intentionally distracting myself isn't working. With a heavy sigh and a longing gaze back to the stream, I continue my journey East, the numbness only continuing to grow as I come across absolutely nothing of interest.
The sunrise is as beautiful as ever.
It's actually a relief when I come across a magnificent rocky outcropping. Or more importantly, the burning village on top of it.
The fire fills me with trepidation, but I can't just ignore this. Right?
I have to force every step of my approach, shivering at the thick smoke in the air as I take in the damage.
There's maybe a dozen homes and at least half of them are in some stage of burning. A spark pops and jumps an enormous distance, catching on the wall of a nearby home. I wince when it grows with a hungry roar. The house walls have stones mixed intermittently into them, but the roofing is still thatch.
Fortunately, all of the houses are spaced away from each other. Unfortunately, that implies that the houses are being burned manually, which means that this isn't an accidental village fire.
Well, this is definitely my next Gaiden chapter. Let's hope I'm levelled enough to do something this time.
I can hear the sounds of a commotion deeper into the village, but I don't dare enter any further. Instead I strafe around, wary of being seen in my Undead state.
"Argh!"
I can hear the grunts of combat on the opposite side of an untouched house, the mud and straw walls obstructing the fighters from view. One of the combatants sounds distinctly female.
"Hah- guh…"
Aaand that sounds like her dying.
Carefully, I peer around the corner of the house. A burly man picks up a charred stick that was laying on the ground, gently blowing on it and cupping it with a hand to stoke it to life. He's not facing me.
Joran
Fighter
LV: 13. EX: -.
HP: 37/45.
"C'mon now," the bandit mutters.
The body of a woman lays ignored beside him. Her blonde head seems to have rolled a few feet away from the rest of her.
Nothing you can do for her now, Logic says. Don't be seen, or we'll end up like her. Your levels may seem close, but your stats aren't.
Stupid Lunatic mode.
"Fuck it," Joran says. He jogs to another house, rummaging around for something.
I use the time to pull away and find a vantage point that's a bit further away, circling around houses until I find a well. There's a pair of buckets, but the rope has been cut. Of course. I stand the buckets on the edge of the well for the world's weakest form of cover and peer between them.
I've got a clear line-of-sight on the bandit as he returns with a stick turned into a makeshift torch, probably created from an existing fire. The bandit is chuckling.
"Heh, 'nd we get paid for this shit. What a time to be alive!"
The crackling of a newborn fire fills the air as the bandit sets the entrance ablaze. I clutch my bow tightly as the bandit walks away, impromptu torch casually tossed into the house.
The fire picks up quickly. The bandit's back is to me. Maybe I can –
"M-mom, help!"
"Mommy!"
A panicked pair of cries has my eyes snapping back to the burning house. The bandit whirls on his feet.
There's a boy inside, panting deeply and coughing from the smoke. He can't be more than ten. Light brown hair sways gently as he stumbles his way to the entrance, one hand raised instinctively to protect himself from the light and heat. The other is clutched tightly to the hand of a younger girl behind him.
They must've been hiding through the fighting and been scared out by the fire…
The boy catches sight of the corpse of his mother on the other side of his doorstep and backpedals, panic shifting to horror.
The bandit clearly hears the boy. Almost reluctantly, he walks back to the house.
I should do something, but I honestly have no plan. The bandit goes as close to the doorway as he can, his body blocking my vision of the inside.
Why can't I have some kind of convenient collapsible pillar to drop on him?
Work with what you have, Logic admonishes. Try pushing him into the fire, and see what kind of damage it does.
If you do, the children will run further inside, Libra cautions.
And die? Logic prods. What do you think that bandit's about to do?
I'm paralyzed with indecision. I almost jump when I hear the bandit give an exaggerated sigh.
"Kid," he calls loudly. "Jus' a heads up. Stay in there an' yer gonna die."
Screaming and crying is the only answer. I watch carefully as the bandit grabs the body of the lifeless woman by the legs and pulls, dragging it out-of-sight to the side of the house. He comes back and kicks her head away, too.
"Oi! Body's gone, kid," the bandit says. He cups his hand to his face so let his voice carry. "Hey, ya hearin' me in there? … It's on yer head if ya die now!"
The bandit waits a few moments, as though expecting a verbal acknowledgement. He scowls and spits on the ground when a burning beam of wood collapses at the entrance, barring the only way out.
"Job's a job," he says to himself. "Fuck me, but it is."
… I retract my last implication, Logic admits.
He leaves, and the fire grows. A minute passes. The screams are growing quieter.
I'm sure there's fighting happening nearby, but I feel as though I'm in the eye of a storm. My scope of awareness shrinks to me, the fire and some soon-to-be corpses.
It's time to act! Save them, before it's too late! Libra urges.
I'm make my way to the entrance of the house. I take a step –
And I stop, unable to move closer to the heat. I flinch as the fire crackles loudly, body flaring up with phantom pains.
Hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts
"H-help…" one of the kids is coughing out. I can't see them. Damnit, come closer to the entrance and then maybe I can do something! "Mom, dad…"
I really don't want to go into that fire. Every part of my conscious brain fights that instinct.
"…Graaagh…!" I growl.
You'll take some damage, but you can heal or revive in the worst case, Logic says. Doing nothing means they're going to die for sure, while saving these children could work to our advantage with the Shepherds…
I nod to myself and psych myself again up to dash through and grab the kids.
But it doesn't work! I'm unable to move forward, stepping back whenever the flames flicker closer towards me. I try to pump energy into my legs for a powerful roll, but I end up wobbling unsteadily. The fire kisses my arm.
Hurts it hurts it hurts!
"GRAAAGGGHHH!"
I scream and throw myself backwards onto the ground, rolling side to side on my arm in panic. It takes me a while to realize that the fire didn't catch. Panting heavily, I get back to my feet. I'm fine…
But the cries are growing alarmingly quiet.
I feel a tingling numbness spreading through my chest again. I want to help, but the fire hurt so much last time. Is anything worth experiencing that pain again?
This must be another death-induced phobia, Logic deduces. But being in our early-game and having low stats shouldn't impair us for something like this. We have enough Estus. Fear aside, we're capable of doing this.
My primary perspectives of Logic and Libra are in agreement, but for some reason my body still refuses to move. Underneath my frustration is a familiar sense of growing hopelessness.
Time ticks on by.
… We're risking ourselves every second we remain in the open like this, Logic says finally. If we're not acting now, we should pull back.
I back off a step.
We have the means to save them now, Libra says. If we're someone who never acts when we can make a difference… then what is our purpose here?
I shake my head as my legs tremble. The numbness in my chest explodes out into an aching void.
"Help…!"
I'm not sure if it's the boy or me who says it. Finally, I sink to my knees, impotently watching the house burn itself out.
It's safe to approach the house now. It's mostly burned out, after all. With a grunt, I shift the burned out wreckage blocking the doorway, making my way inside.
… Ah, they're still holding hands. The girl clutches a silver pendant tightly in her other hand. I kneel beside them and cradle my face in my palms.
Failure. You utter failure.
My brain can't comprehend the sounds of a battle winding down around me. It can't comprehend much of anything.
I don't notice the approaching footsteps of the man sneaking up behind me. I don't even notice the steel sliding in cleanly through my back to erupt out from my chest. A solid, karmic thrust straight through the ol' ribcage.
"Gwargh…"
Joke's on them. My body is completely numb, anyway. So I don't really… care…
Ess'ai
Outrealmer
LV: 10. EX: 8.
HP: 0/23.
I collapse quietly atop two small corpses.
YOU DIED
Dark Awakening – Now Loading
Twin Heavens Return Shield: A skill inherited from a seemingly ordinary, ditzy girl. Reverses all effects of the last attack upon a target.
A young pacifist developed unusual abilities to support her friends through their supernatural troubles. Her techniques blossomed from the concept of "rejection", and are rumored to have been capable of reversing death itself.
It takes an unyielding will or incredible innocence to reject a situation enough to rewrite reality. Which of the two the girl possessed is a matter of debate.
Failure.
I remain seated, as still as a statue, watching over the remains of the two children and my previous body. My arms are wrapped around my knees and my head rests gently on them, my eyes almost completely closed.
"... any survivors… ?!"
"… kalakh dushuun… could've done such a thing?"
"… Plegians, obviously! … seiran amalakarun teiva of war…!"
Perhaps these visitors are from a neighboring village. Perhaps they're from Ylisse. It's not my business.
Light footsteps approach me. I feel a stick poking at me. It knocks back my hood. There's a short, high-pitched scream and the sound of rapid back-pedaling.
"What yi fraeganis?!"
"Es raya se okay?"
Cautious footsteps.
"Noraya, yei ma okay…"
More poking. I don't bother moving or breathing. I can hear a sigh of relief.
"… I think it's hramore, sovei bushak te anumi¸ sorry… oh no, Elena's children…! They must have been trapped so tere rawan. Yei coloadrin me dushuun avon karaya…"
I'm not sure what these people are here for, but they seem to shy away from me and focus their efforts elsewhere. I'm okay with that.
It's not long before these people are attacked, too.
"… Aidani core ye seian- ahh!"
"Rajan! Rajan es ma lakhayari!"
Someone's attacking a village that's already been destroyed. How barbaric. Was Medieval Earth just as bad?
I watch as a villager and a bandit take simultaneous swings at each other. The bandit decapitates the villager, but takes a strong hit from a handaxe. The villager falls immediately. The bandit staggers into the house, clutching his leg.
Band^t
B4?y ?#?N
L*: !5
HP: 8/5?.
The bandit freezes at the sight of me. I don't move. He approaches cautiously, nudging me with his weapon. When I continue to imitate a statue he relaxes, gently gripping my shirt and cutting it with his axe. Probably wants the cloth. He can have it.
"Holafis trianin!" he jumps back when he sees my skin.
I ignore the clearly unsettled man.
He drops the cloth and backs away, leaving me topless. He nudges my older corpse with his feet, shifting it away from the bloated bodies of the children. He rummages for a while and comes away with my belt and a silver… pendant…
I stand up silently, the perpetual hollowness in my heart giving way to a flicker of anger.
Attack!
My staff burned out, but my bow is still functional.
Draw, loose. The man staggers back and tries to run, but he can't get far on his injured leg.
Attack.
My body gives chase, bursting through the entrance of the house and pivoting sharply. Draw, loose. My second shot takes him through the neck and he collapses with a gurgle, finally dropping the bloodstained pendant to the ground. I pick it up gently and return to the ruined home.
It fits snugly inside the girl's palm where it's meant to be.
The bandits have taken over this village. I see a few men carrying wood around, building small walls here and there.
There's more and more traffic. I see a few people in proper uniforms. One of them doesn't seem content to ignore me like the others have so far.
"… sia es ma yarataka," he says gruffly, hefting a lance. Almost curiously, he stabs it straight through where my heart should be.
What's a little more pain to me? I fall onto my back, uncaring.
Ess'ai
Outrealmer
%*: 1^. &[: 5!.
HP: 9/$#.
The man who stabs me looks familiar. Didn't I just kill him a little while ago?
The man leaves his lance lodged in my chest, taking time to examine the other bodies around us. They've advanced their decay, red now instead of green. I scowl when I see the man stand up with a silver pendant in hand.
Why…? You already took her life. All of you. What more do you want?
Attack!
I rise. The man must hear his lance jostling around in my body, because he glances back immediately. He's not quick enough to dodge the arrow that takes him in the side. The force of the blow knocks him off of his feet. My eyes are fixed on his right hand, still clutching his stolen jewelry.
I reach out with a hand, but others are already charging in.
I ignore the curses and even the arrows that lodge in my throat, growling loudly at the thief.
"…RrrraAARRGH!"
Ess'ai
Outrealmer
%*: 1^. &[: 6!.
HP: 0/$#.
The thieving scum screams when our eyes meet, wildly flinging the pendant back at me. Only when I feel its weight in my hand do I allow my body to collapse.
YOU DIED
Dark Awakening – Now Loading
Monkey Blooded: A skill in-er- -ro- - -r-ivors of a mighty warrior race. Greatly increases STR, SKL and SPD grow- r-.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... , ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... . ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... , ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...?
I return at nightfall to open air, the remains of the house around me completely stripped away.
There are walls around where this village used to be. Some kind of fortification. Instead of houses there's small tents littering the ground.
I look around for the children, but they're missing. My weapons are gone, too. There's a charred skeleton decorating the remains of what must've been a large bonfire. It's my old body, still clutching that pendant.
It's tarnished and a bit deformed, but I take it anyway. I should return it to her. My chest feels a little lighter now that I have something to do. Now, where did she go?
"…mmmh?" I tilt my head quizzically when I hear some distant yelling. I can see a man running somewhere with a lance, though there's no way for him to notice me in the dark with his limited human vision. The pale moonlight illuminates his features for a split-second.
That's the man who just killed me a little while ago. Still, no one is coming to accost me. I shrug and pry the pendant free from my old skeleton's hands, clasping it around my neck.
I should return it to her. Where did she go?
I wander the camp aimlessly, poking my head into a few tents. Empty bedrolls. More empty bedrolls and some papers strewn about.
There's a fancy-looking tent with a torch providing nearby illumination. I quench the torch by smothering it into the ground, scowling. Then I lift up the tent's flap and stroll inside.
A young man is sitting cross-legged to the side, wrapping cloth around a chest wound with a grimace. Blood seeps through his bandages. The man freezes when I walk in, rapidly going pale. Hey, he looks familiar. Hmm… this is the man who killed me a little while ago. I must've been mistaken earlier.
I'm so puzzled by the man that I barely notice the tent's other occupant. She's kneeling with her hands behind her back, her wrists and feet heavily bound with rope. There's a gash on her forehead leaking blood, but despite it obscuring her features I can clearly see her eyes widen.
"Ess'ai…?" she starts, blinking rapidly. "Seil aiunam!"
"…Hrmm?" I feel a little uneasy. She looks familiar, but I don't think she's who I'm looking for.
"Rajas ma es lokon," the woman tries to reach forward and nearly falls over as a result,"so ya lithini khargha, so ya renis, seil aiunam!"
"Nakhra!" the other man shouts something at the woman. He staggers into a standing pose, pulling a knife from somewhere and waving it in shooing motion. "Frikaris! Frikaris!"
"Nieral lok loraya so brazej, esia-"
The man backhands the woman without breaking eye contact with me, his knife-hand trembling with the exertion.
The woman reels a moment, then grits her teeth and forces herself back on to her knees. Her silvery twin-tails sway as she takes a gasping breath. She doesn't speak again, but her expression seems to be trying to say a million things to me.
I look at her intently for another few seconds. No, definitely too old to be the girl I'm looking for. I lift the flap of the tent and leave them both behind. The injured man makes no motion to stop me.
"A-AHHHH!" a frustrated scream comes belatedly from the tent behind me."Deshakul! Gordokh! Fukan- oof!"
I hear a thump and then silence. I don't bother with a backwards glance.
The next tent has barrels inside. I drop the flap behind me, curious despite myself. One barrel has a small selection of lances, another has a pair of odd-looking staves, and on the nearby desk…
I pick up a familiar looking bow, letting out a pleased snort. There's a cache of arrows in a smaller barrel, too. I help myself.
There's nothing else of note, not even in the other tents. I don't find the girl that I'm looking for.
She can't have gotten far. I'll check outside this camp.
There's a skirmish going on outside the camp. The bandits of this camp are all working in concert… to take down a single foe.
He's a one man army, atop a magnificent warhorse with near a full suit of blue armor. It's been rubbed down with dirt, but that's not enough to fool my eyes. Enough of it shines with reflected moonlight for me to track him. The dozen of his opponents that remain are having no such luck, though.
A bandit archer hastily lights a torch. A moment later an axe whirls out of the darkness, catching him in the neck and nearly severing it. He collapses instantly. One of his allies makes to grab his torch, only for a second axe to emerge from the night, taking him in the shoulder.
The horseman can't have that many spare axes… but no one goes for the torch again.
I take everything in passively from a distance, sitting cross-legged on the ground. The cat-and-mouse battle is interesting, but I'm more curious about the boy creeping towards the injured bandit, unnoticed in the chaos. This is no place for a kid.
Failure.
A gentle reminder. The guilt and shame swirl together into a fine mesh of barbed wires around my heart.
The boy is whispering something with his right hand raised, a tome open in his left. I can feel a chill in the air, and I blink when I see a visible gust of wind surge forth from his hand. The light of the torch flickers out, but even without it I can see the wind cleanly cut through the injured bandit, finishing him off.
The recoil of the wind pushes off the kid's almost comically oversized hat. I catch a glimpse of short, light brown hair and wide eyes before the boy grabs his hat and beats a hasty retreat.
I stand up. Just like the woman in the tent before, his face seems… familiar, somehow.
"Duo cerana ienari!" one of the bandits calls out in alarm.
One child and one mighty Paladin against a small camp of bandits. How will this turn out, I wonder?
The terrain is open, much to the horseman's advantage. There are only a few large rocks available to provide cover for the boy as he attempts to retreat.
Human eyesight must be really bad because the bandits often glance right past his exposed form without noticing him. They mutter to themselves, and one of them peels back to retreat to their camp.
I ignore them all, tracking the boy and shambling towards him. And while the bandits fail to detect the boy, they notice me rather easily. Mostly because I don't bother hiding.
I walk straight by one of them. He wrinkles his nose and returns to me, axe raised warily.
"Ie lokh shinakh-" and there's the moment of realization that I'm not a bandit like him. "Aieeee!"
The commotion draws the attention of the scattered bandits. I ignore it all until I feel a ticklish sensation -
Whoosh
- near my ribcage as an arrow passes through a hole in my body by the barest of margins. I pause, feeling a mute sensation of surprise even through my general apathy. Pulling the arrow from the ground, I turn back to face my attackers.
I hear a womanly scream from one of the bandits, which is strange because they all seem to be male. In fact, they all look like that man who killed me… perhaps they're all brothers?
They don't seem to know where to focus their attentions – some of them are making wild gestures towards me, almost half of them are running back to their camp now, and the stragglers are being hunted by the knight and his warhorse as they weave through the shadows.
I shrug. Not my problem. Now where did that child get to…?
Ah. He's taken cover behind the largest rock he could find. I might've lost him, were it not for the tip of his hat peeking out just a little bit. I wrap around the rock and crouch down in front of him to observe him closer.
He's kind enough to freeze in place when he sees me, allowing me to take in his youthful features. Plain brown eyes, plain brown hair that falls meekly over his forehead, certainly on the short side… I get an uncomfortable feeling that I'm supposed to recognize him, but he's not one of the two children that I failed. Perhaps he can help me anyway?
I hold it out the tarnished pendant to him and try to speak.
I need to give it back to her.
"Iuh awaaahh groaaah hrrrmmm…"
He's shaking.
"N-Naga…" he whispers. "Seil keira, N-Naga…"
Please, have you seen her?
"Pfffft, hroaaah uh saaaaahhh…"
He shrinks into himself, pressing himself against the rock. I shake the pendant with a bit more force, getting a little frustrated despite myself. I reach out to him –
"Frikaris!" he screams, flailing wildly. "Frikaris, nakh lojor Frederick - !"
A stray swipe smacks my wrist and the pendant goes flying out of my hand, landing somewhere in the dirt.
…
There's a muffled buzzing in my head that makes it hard to think straight. My vision blurs, and for a moment I'm seeing double. I see the boy's familiar youthful features, and yet, at the same time…
Is this not the man who killed me?
It is… isn't it? Then…
Attack!
The motions are ingrained. My bow is at my side instantly. He raises an arm to block my attack. I use a foot to stomp his hand back down, firing an arrow into it in the next second.
"Ahhhh!"
He screams loudly, trying to push away from me. I let my anger surge forth as instinct takes over, trying to quench my uncertainty.
Attack!
He reaches into his robes, fumbling around with a tome. But his hand is injured and he can't grasp it properly. I kick the book away, then let my arms follow their natural pattern. Draw, loose.
The next arrow gets him in the other arm.
Attack.
The next one gets him in the back of his leg as he tries to run away, tripping him face-first into the dirt. I stalk over to him, growling.
He's trying to drag himself away. I flip him over roughly and grip him by the front of his robe. Can't hesitate. This… this is the man who killed me. I need to kill him…!
My vision blurs again. I can see them all, grinning at me as my friend dies in front of me. Laughing as they burn down houses and set me aflame. But –
If he's mocking me, then why is he crying? Why does he look so afraid? The man's face – no, the boy's face – cycles through a dozen different expressions. Rage, fear, resignation,..
A-atta…attac…! No, all wrong! Wrong! Forgetting, I'm forgetting…!
I clench an arrow tightly enough for the wood to fracture, stabbing it into the boy's shoulder in lieu of a proper attack from my bow. He howls in pain, then grits his teeth. There's nothing he can do to stop me now, but I see a new glare in his eyes as he gasps for breath.
Forgetting – what am I forgetting?!
He leans closer to me, looking me in the eyes. Then, with his boyish voice still wracked in pain, he screams right into my face. I instinctually respond in kind.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"RAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHH!"
We're both screaming at each other and his brazen defiance finally sparks something, another distant memory.
Defiant to the last in the face of death –
Forgetting – what it is – to be human!
A reflex, almost completely forgotten in my madness.
Use item.
Humanity!
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
Still screaming, my hand tears a dark orb of humanity from the ether, brings it to my chest, and crushes it into myself.
HUMANITY RESTORED
(A memory of a melancholic conversation between two newly found friends, the creak as we lean on weathered pews, the dim candlelight illuminating an old church…)
I gasp as I feel the impossible sensation of flesh wrapping itself around my body once more. Blood flows cleanly through my veins as my heart begins to beat again for the first time in weeks.
I remember myself.
And I remember the name of the boy that's pinned underneath me, riddled with my arrows and screaming in pain. Even if I've never seen him before in this world…
"Haah… Ricken-" I whisper out. "Ricken, I'm…"
Ricken – An aspiring Shepherd who hates being treated like a child.
Mage
LV: 3. EX: -.
HP: 4/20.
"-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"
"Ricken," I try again.
"-HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"
"Ricken!" I scream into his face, and his yells finally peter out.
The youngest of Chrom's Shepherd is gasping harder than I am, tears and mucus still running down his face, blood staining his blue robes where my arrows pierced him. His eyes focus on me.
"… You were death…" he finally whispers. "Am I going to die?"
"No," I answer helplessly. "No, I'm not death, Ricken, I'm not here to kill you. I'm sorry…"
"Y-you know my name…" he murmurs. His little chest heaves with every painful breath.
"Yes," I say. "My God, Gods, Ricken, I'm so sorry."
"Vaike was right," Ricken says, and then he gives an almost hysterical giggle. "I yelled at death like a man, and then I made death go away. He'll have to call me Teach now, hahaha…"
I breathe out, getting my bearings as Ricken rests his head back against the rock behind him. For the first time, I properly take in my surroundings under the night sky.
I can't see clearly in the night anymore, and all torchlight near us has been extinguished. The only visible light is from a distant camp –
My brain pieces together images, flashes of memory from when I was dead. Frederick hasn't come to save Ricken yet. The fighting must still be going on. The Shepherds are probably fighting in this bandit camp right now.
"So," Ricken's tired voice interrupts my thoughts. "… What are you?"
"Someone who was cursed," I answer, kneeling at his side. "And hopefully, now a friend."
Ricken glances at the arrows protruding from his body, then back at me. His expression is answer enough.
I take in a deep breath. "I guess this friendship isn't off to the greatest start," I say, looking into the eyes of the boy – no, not a boy. "But I'll do better. And Ricken, from one man to another… thank you. You saved me."
A tiny, almost imperceptible smile lights his face up.
"Huh…" he says softly, before he giggles again. "You know, if this is what being a man is like…" he trails off, wincing as he coughs. "… Maybe I can… wait a bit… before growing up…"
He closes his eyes and I can visibly see the effects as he comes down from his adrenalin high. His shoulders slump and his breathing lightens as he passes out. He's not exactly stable, but I don't think he's going to die in the next few minutes.
I stand up, clenching my bow tightly. This… if I had killed Ricken at the end there, I don't think I would've come back. Risenification -
It was always a penalty, fool, just because it wasn't obvious at the start –
Should have used the Humanity as soon as sanity was a concern, and avoided all conflict –
You were just brought back, you can't actually be thinking of going into another fight you idiot -
I grab each of the dozen clamoring voices in my head by their necks, one at a time. With each deep breath out, I expel another one into the night's chilly air, until my thoughts consolidate into the two reliable patterns.
… You would hate yourself if you let Ricken down right now, True Humanity says, awakening from its deep sleep at last. Save him.
I'm not even going to bother playing devil's advocate, Logic says. Sneak around and get a staff. If you could get out of the camp before, you can get back in now. For the love of God, though, do not die again.
Alright then. One last breath out, to shake off the remains of insanity. One last glance back, to steel my resolve.
Ricken, I swear, I'm going to make this right.
A/N: Alas, Ess'ai doesn't have the mental resilience of our in-game Chosen Undead. It's a rare person who can withstand consecutive deaths, after all.