Chapter 52: Lover's Return

By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.

A/N: I have a lot going next week with school tests and orgs. I'm feeling a little burnt out too, so I think I will take a week off. I'll try to not make this a habit, but I'll be back on the 28th.

I will be honest. This chapter was draining to write. Prepare yourself for the darkest chapter I've ever written [on Valentine's Day lmao].

N: We set our sights on Lady Lyn, who's doing her best to acclimate to her new lifestyle. Unfortunately, her peaceful life with Florina and her grandfather is about to come to an abrupt end.


Several days ago, Castle Caelin...

The air is calm at Castle Caelin. The morning sun smiles on the land, granting its warmth to the worn stone walls of the old fortress. People quietly coarse through the winding halls watchful for any discrepancies, though others are content to go about their day.

One of these people was Lyn, a sacaen princess late to her tutoring session with her teacher, Governess Estelle. Ever since she first arrived here, Lyn's been going through an extensive program to teach her all the intricacies behind a noble lady of class. She'd spent months practicing learning how to speak a specific way, eat a specific way, and even stand a certain way. She acquaintanted herself with the difficult politicking behind the Lycian court and spent several hours learning how to dance in a ballroom setting. All of this took a monumental amount of effort from Lyn's part, and although she's gone far in the way of becoming a proper lady, she still had so much to learn.

Lyn feels her stomach churn as she placed her hand above Estelle's doorknob. Despite all the willpower she'd put towards this effort, this was not what Lyn's been desiring for herself. What she desired was a return to the life she once knew, a quiet and stress-free existence back in the plains of her childhood. She often had dreams filled with the seas of green grass she loved, but she wondered if the day would ever come that she could return.

At least not while my grandfather is still here, Lyn thought.

She did not hate her grandfather by any means, in fact the opposite was true, Lyn loved him dearly. He was the last family she had left ever since her parents died all those years ago, and she had to admit that she enjoyed her time with him. He's very kind and considerate towards his granddaughter, but even then Lyn understood that she could not loaf around while the nation went about with its affairs. She had to take on the duties of a princess and heir to the throne, otherwise her father would become the ridicule of the nation.

Lyn kept herself going every day with the thought what she was doing was better for the greater good. The people of Caelin needed a monarch for the future, one was strong enough to fend off the leering interests of much stronger cantons nearby. Her presence served as a reassurance to her family's commitment...and she understood the grave consequences should she fail.

While toiling away in the classroom, Lyn learned of Caelin's tumultuous history. The canton's only existed little over 800 years, during which it's been the victim to many incursions. These included about 300 border skirmishes, 50 invasions, and 5 instances where the crown was driven out of Castle Caelin. The canton was the victim of many power hungry enemies, a problem compounded by Caelin's unique geography struggles.

There were some mountains defending Castle Caelin's direct vicinity, but the rest of its territory unfortunately rested in the center of Wheat Valley, a long plain that supported most Lycia's agricultural industry. Although this feature led to famine rarely being a problem to Caelics, this also made their position very vulnerable because of the lack of natural defenses. So far, Caelin's maintained its existence due to the royal family's shrewd ally-making ability through the centuries, though it could take only one person to crash it all down.

Sometimes, Lyn just wanted to shut herself in her room and just pray that these responsibilities would just go away. The additional stress increased the anxiety flowing through her body, and she there were a few instances where she nearly snapped at a servant. One of these people was her dear Florina, a friend who served as a grim reminder of the life she used to live.

...

Such thoughts were best left unpondered. She should just be grateful Florina didn't bear witness to the ugly tension brewing in her heart...

Shifting her attention back towards the original matter, she pushes the door open, revealing a small room complete with a chalkboard and a single chair. Standing nearby smoking from a pipe is Governess Estelle, who did not take a liking to her student's lateness.

Lifting the glass ornament from her lips, she said, "Ah, Lady Lyndis. Pleasure to see you. Do you have an explanation for your tardiness?"

Lyn replied, "Yes. I've returned from my instructor's lesson of court dancing. It was a rather fruitful affair, although it took a little too much time."

Governess Estelle nods approvingly and invited Lyn to her seat. The latter accepts and while waiting for her teacher to begin instruction, puffed out her chest confidently like she was taught.

Convey confidence wherever you go. You cannot show the smallest shred of weakness, otherwise this can invite enemies to make their move.

Estelle said, "Lady Lyndis. Has Mademoiselle Florina informed you of your appointment with Doctor Swift this afternoon?"

Estelle is from a small region in northern Etruria. There they spoke an unusual dialect of Elibean that borrowed some words from an old tongue, though that language has since vanished with the passage of time.

Lyn replied, "She has. I'm told he wants to give me a brief check up before his schedule gets too crowded."

I hope it's nothing more than a check-up. I'm terribly afraid of doctors.

Estelle said, "Let's hope he finds nothing wrong with you then, at least not anything I haven't found already. Open your textbook to page 287 your highness. Today, I'll be teaching you some basic arithmetic..."


Present...

Today, I received news of our next destination. It's a place I'm all too familiar with for all the wrong reasons, and the materialization of all of my past mistakes. Where else could we have gone, besides the mystical land of Caelin?

Caelin...yeah. I still have an unfulfilled death warrant there, and a bounty too worth 5000 gold. With that amount of money someone could buy a house somewhere and live on their own terms far away from the serfdom so commonplace in this land, but I digress. I've yet to run into an assassin, though Azazel's reputation probably did much to scare many would-be bounty hunters away. In hindsight, I'm more concerned about what will happen when we get there.

Hearing about our pending arrival sends a chill down my spine. Although I was confident in my mask's ability to hide my identity, it was our mission that brought me anxiety. Our scouts informed us that the Lausian army has the Caelic crown besieged inside their own castle, with the army powerless to stop them. Not like they had a chance to begin with; Azazel's rampage several months ago guaranteed that much.

I've yet to shake the pitiful memories of that slaughter. Azazel cut down the rank and file like they were livestock, unfeeling as he decimated the knightly ranks. He destroyed much of the southern wall, not holding back on what surely resulted from many months of labor. He threatened my friends like they were mere toys for him and nearly took the life of one of them...

What was her name again...?

Feeling a little dizzy, I beckon Serra for her attention. We were on the march together while the sun shined high in the sky, though I've scarcely spoken to her. After a while, you run out of things to talk about, so silence was a huge mainstay in our constant travels. I asked, "Serra. What was the name of that nurse from Castle Caelin? I think she had blonde hair and blue eyes..."

Serra takes out her journal and starts going through it to spy a mention of the girl I'd just mentioned. It takes some time, but she finds her. She replied, "Her name is Taliyah. I'm unsure on how you know her though. Isn't this your first time to Castle Caelin?"

!

My chest sinks. My failing memory is really starting to become a liability, especially in matters like this. Short for time, I tell her the first reasonable explanation that came to my mind.

I said, "I...know her from a mutual acquaintance. Nothing more."

Satisfied with my answer, she shrugged her shoulders. She said, "Huh. Small world."

"Y-Yeah..."

Finding nothing else to talk about, we spend the rest of the morning in quiet anticipation for the battle to come...


Castle Caelin is a fortress nestled in the heart of Wheat Valley, a large plain fit for agriculture. Little geographical features protect the capital besides a few wooded areas flanked by a single mountain overlooking the domain. The castle itself is relatively new, though recent damage to it robbed it of much of its structural integrity. I can't help but wonder how long the Caelic army could withstand a surprise siege with little preparation.

Eliwood asked, "How long do you think Caelin will last? Do you suppose we can arrive before they break ranks?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Beats me. I hear part of their outer fortifications were destroyed several months ago. Couple that with the Lausian numbers advantage, and I figure they won't even survive the day."

Eliwood bites his lip after hearing that. I don't know how the young man can keep himself composed in times like these, but I suppose that is the way of the Lycian gentleman.

He said calmly, "We must hurry then. Tell the others of my intentions."

"As you wish."

Although Eliwood wasn't willing to say it himself, what he had just ordered was a forced march. It's a long, non-stop march conducted in double-time often unpopular with the soldiers; but I doubt many of them will complain. Several of us have interests with the Kingdom of Caelin...including myself...

...

The march was draining to both our energy and our moral. By the time we reached the outskirts of the capital a few of our own had already collapsed from exhaustion. Five days of non-stop marching through plains will do that to a person, no matter how resolute their fortitude.

With my person anxiously over a cliff, I peer over at the situation with some binoculars. To my dismay my previous prediction turns out to be right, men in Lausian uniforms covered the entire castle alongside its nearby town. They appear to have infiltrated the castle as well, though for how long I don't know...

I gulp and let the attached binoculars fall onto my collar. Even with all of our effort, all of our sacrifice, it was time that became our undoing. The despair quelling inside my heart beats against my chest like a hammer, but I'm too numb with it to cry out. Instead, I muttered, "By the Creator...we're too late."

I keep my voice low as to not dishearten the others, but Eliwood hears me anyway. He looks at me with eyes I could've sworn belonged to somebody else.

He said, "Please tell me you're joking."

I shake my head and give him my binoculars. He only had his eyes on them for two seconds until he couldn't bear to watch it anymore. He said, "Darin...that blasted curr. He will pay for this."

I said, "I recommend we rest our troops for the day and pursue further actions in the morning. We can't undo what's already been done, and acting now will only spell disaster for us. If Darin has a shred of dignity left, he would've imprisoned the noble family, as is stated in the rules agreed upon at the Lycian conference of 506."

Lyn, Sain, Kent, Florina...please be safe.

Eliwood sighs and then looks back towards the rest of our "army". At this point, none of them were within an inch of battle-readiness. They carried expressions of exhaustion across their faces, and the pack animals laid their heads low. One could even claim they appeared more dead than alive. The sight reminded me of the walkers I used to fight in Swampmarsh.

Keeping his heart firm, he told them, "We will rest and set up camp. May the Creator bless us with her grace..."


Later...

I'm carrying Rebecca in my arms. The energetic teenager passed out midway through the camp-making process, and no one else had the energy to pick her up from the dirty ground. I can scarcely blame them; my own weaknesses are catching up to me too.

I set the girl up against a tree and I begin work setting up her resting place. With nails and fabric firmly in my grasp, I toiled hard to accomplish a task that would've been elementary had it not been for my stiffening exhaustion...

...

"Hwaaaaugh!"

I set the last nail, and happy with my labor, I take a knee. A drop of warm sweat drips down the side of my face like a humble reminder of my own limits. Short for breath, I muttered, "Done."

Taking a moment to recover my bearings, I stand up and lift Rebecca from her unconscious position. The weight of her felt much worse now after what I'd just done, though I didn't care. Rebecca is my friend, and it's my duty to look after those I care about.

I lie Rebecca down on a makeshift futon composed of blankets, and cover her with one. Turning my back in her, I take my leave and revel in the sunlight once more, pleased with how everything turned out...

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

Matthew pokes his head out from a nearby bush expecting a surprised tactician, but comes up short. I've known this sly thief long enough to consider such unannounced appearances as trivialities, and looking at him with tired eyes, I replied, "You know just as well as I that I've led a life of sin. With that considered, wouldn't you think I'd want to blow away the flames of hell...if only a little?"

Matthew laughs, "Heh. I never took you as the religious type. What are you gonna do, retire from this war life and become a monk in some faraway monastery?"

I balked, "Heck no. I wouldn't consider myself a god-fearing individual, but I most certainly fear hell. I...I've been there. I want to do everything to avoid it again."

Upon hearing that Matthew raises a brow. He can't quite make out what I'm trying to say, much less derive any meaning from it. He asked, "I don't think I know what you mean. By hell, are you referring to the eternal punishment we face after death, or the looming promise of a cold cell should your identity ever come out?"

I replied coldly, "The evil in this world has me convinced the god overlooking this world is not benevolent in nature. In my culture, we'd call this being the devil. The devil will stop at nothing to make sure I spent the last years of my existence behind bars, but I won't let it."

"The whole world is out to get me. I can't trust anyone...not even you..."

"..."

Matthew lifts his collar to let loose anxious heat emitting from his body. I'm oblivious to the...crazed expression on my face. My disheveled facial hair drops over my dilated eyes to form the perfect painting of insanity.

Matthew said, "Lieutenant, forgive me for saying this, but you're sounding a little delusional right now. Lie down for a bit, maybe get some rest. I can reassure you there's no one out to get you."

I replied plainly, "Except for everybody apparently. Might I remind you I have the death penalty in three countries, and a warrant for my arrest in four?"

"..."

Matthew goes silent, and I'm left lamenting over my situation within the boundaries of my own mind. The very grass under my feet feel like they secretly harbored knives to cut short my life, and the anxiety in my blood thickens.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally broke the silence. In hindsight, I did feel quite tired. I said, "Fine. I'm going to set up my hammock. Good night to you."

Matthew nods silently, and I retire away into nearby woods. Watching him leave strikes me with a sense of suspicion building towards myself, likely because of conversation we just shared. I'm unsure of what'll happen after this, but I am sure of one thing.

My mind, which at one point was my greatest asset, was now becoming my greatest liability.


That night...

I...can't sleep. I've been tossing and turning non stop on this hammock for...six hours. The moon shining in the night sky feels like a dagger piercing my eyeballs, and the trees overhead did little to help ease my pain. This...I don't know how much more I can take. I've been awake for six straight days.

Frustrated with the current state of things, I weasel out of my bed and took a little walk. The air is silent as I weaved through the calm forest floor, though I feel that I'm at the cusp of vomiting.

Can this get any worse?!

"Samuel."

!

Hearing that voice sends a burst of adrenaline through my body. It sounded like a ghost had come across my poor self. I draw my sword and point my weapon towards a nearby bush. I exclaimed, "Who goes there?"

Nothing replies. Never one to lose the initiative, I cleave through the bush like my life depended on it.

Attack now. Ask questions later. I won't be killed today!

The bush separates into the two pieces, but no blood spills onto the earth. Other than the vegetation, I'd cut through air.

What the...

"Samuel...are you going to let her die too?"

This time, the voice came from a vine high above me. It sounds cryptic and almost taunting to my character. I jump up and bring my arm to bear, cutting through that just as easily as the bush. However, just like the bush...my aggression appears unfounded.

Frustrated, I exclaimed, "What's going on here?!"

"..."

I eye my environment anxiously, waiting for the smallest hint of movement. A brief, brisk gust of wind blows my hair back, taunting me like some inevitable truth. The tension in the air is so thick I could cut it like a knife...

"Samuel. Are you going to let her die? Just like you did with Erk?"

I replied anxiously, "H-How do you know my name? How do you know Erk? Who are you talking about?"

This voice...the more I think about it one thing becomes clear. It didn't just come from one singular directions. It...came from every direction.

The voice replied, "I'm speaking about Lyn. She's being tortured in cell...how can you live with that? You know they'll kill her eventually, or worse. Darin showed no reservation towards that Priscilla girl."

"..."

I take out my fire tone and point my hand towards the air. I cried out, "I swear to the Creator, I will blow up whatever is within a short radius of myself if you don't REVEAL YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!"

"..."

"Do what you must, but that doesn't detract from what's going on."

I put my hand down, and then anxiously brush my hair. This...thing didn't want to kill me. In fact, it purely seemed content with extracting any and all discomfort from my being.

Defeated, I said, "You win...you win. W-What do you want from me?"

It replied, "It's not what I want...it's what you want."

This voice isn't making any sense. What does it mean by its perturbed riddles? More importantly, how does it know about specific details pertaining to Lyn, Priscilla, Erk, and myself? Nobody else on this planet knows about these things, nobody except...

Me.

!

Paralyzed in shock, I come to a cruel realization. In between my sleep deprivation, myriad of head injuries, an constant emotional trauma...I was now experiencing my introduction to schizophrenia.

Oh. No...no no no no no no no.

This voice doesn't exist...does it?

I said, "I'm delusional. Oh my God...I've finally reached the deep end. All this time...all this bullc*. My mind is falling apart..."

The voice replied, "Starting to feel the CTE, aren't you Samuel? All of those concussions have disintegrated a tenth of your brain to mush. A quarter more continues to worsen. Haven't you noticed it already? Your memory loss...how extreme does it have to be until you finally recognize the inception of dementia?"

I...should've noticed this sooner. At first it just started with migraines, and then memory loss. After that, these two things started getting worse and worse, eventually leading to my first lapse, Erk's smile on his deathbed. However, even though I'm aware of my new condition, my rationality no longer captains my decision-making abilty. I'm powerless to it now, a slave to this disease.

...

The voice said, "You don't have to accept it now, it's a lot to take in at once. However, you put your body on the line for a cause...and now you need to deal with the consequences of that. However, before you do that, you need to go save Lyn. Right now."

I said, "I c-can't. I'm...too weak. My friends are in no state to do anything either."

The voice replied, "You don't need them. You are strong enough. Go towards the Castle right now. You know you can sneak through those idiot soldiers."

I said, "I don't...no. Darin will respect the conference, I know it."

The voice said, "Are you sure? Samuel, go look behind that bush over there. The one you just cut."

An overwhelming sense of fear strikes me, but I obey anyway. I push away the prickling spines and cast my eyes on...

...

"No..."

Florina lay dead on the earth with her arms strung out like a broken porcelain doll. Her lavender hair was caked black from a sticky mess of crimson...her blood. Fresh blood.

I said, "No...no no no. Florina...why? Laus...Laus will pay..."

The voice said, "Laus? Laus didn't do this. Pity. She had escaped the fate of her friends to request assistance beyond the castle walls, only to get shot down by a Lausian soldier. She crawled through the underbelly of this forest until she passed out from exhaustion behind this bush. The very same you cut through in your bid to harm me."

"What?!"

I look down on my blade, and to my horror I realize it was drenched in an eerie red liquid. I...had killed Florina. Me...myself. I am the killer of my lover's best friend...and my friend too.

Florina...I didn't deserve her. She was one of the sweetest, most innocent souls to ever grace the earth. I...remember sharing memories of happiness with her under the campfire. But that's what they just are...only memories. Figments of conscious dwelling within my own deteriorating mind. Eventually, the day will come when I will forget her...

I said, "How...how can this be? I...oh my..."

My head goes faint and I nearly pass out. However, the voice calls out to me before I can do just that. It said, "You can't pass out here. The army will find you, and they'll hang you. The only way you can redeem yourself is by rescuing Lady Lyn. You must go. You must."

I pleaded, "No...this is irrational. That's abject to suicide!"

The voice snickered, "Nothing good ever came out of you using your head. Besides, you've got two choices. Stay and die, or leave for a sliver of hope. You've got a girl to protect, why are you going to abandon her now?"

The voice is manipulating me to do something for it, but I'm too distraught to care. All I want is a way out from this suffering. Someway to make this all right.

I said, "You're...right. I need to go rescue her...right now."

"Get on with it."

I stand up and brush off some dust from my uniform. Looking ahead, I sheathe my bloodied sword and march on ahead towards my destination...

Castle Caelin...


I...did it. I snuck through the enemy lines like a bat flapping through the night, dodging every mounted sentry easily. These simpletons didn't even bother to keep the entire perimeter on watch, and their incompetence allowed me to enter Castle Caelin through the same rubble Azazel created all those months ago.

I walk through the familiar hallways, ignoring the chilling lack of blood covering the walls. My intuition screams at me to consider the absence of bodies that should've been here in the event of a battle, but at this point its pleas falls on deaf ears. I am beyond reason now.

Oddly, the Lausian military opted not to enforce sentries inside the perimeter of the castle. In fact, they didn't have a presence in here at all. It's like an invisible disease of sorts inflicted the castle, and the perimeter outside did not serve to keep people out, but to keep whatever lurked in here in. This theory did well to give me an ever increasing sense of anxiety, though not much else.

I muttered, "If I recall, they kept all the prisoners in the basement. I should head there."

I tiptoe to a nearby stairwell, ever mindful of the slightest leering shadow. Going down its spiraling steps, my footsteps echo through the air like a small pounding drum.

"Murmur...murmur..."

"Whisper...whisper..."

I hear two faint voices down at the bottom of the stairwell, and I stop on my tracks. The first voice sounds like it had a muffled French-accent, while the second is deeper and carried a royal flair.

The first voice said, "Very good. I'm glad to have your assistance in this matter, Lord Darin."

Lord Darin?

The second voice, which I presumed to belong to Lord Darin, replied, "It's the best I can do for your efforts, Doctor. I only came here because Ephidel said you'd hand me Castle Caelin in a bloodless manner. If it weren't for you, I'm afraid we'd be in dire straits."

Bloodless manner? The Caelic army didn't fight?

The "Doctor" said, "Just allow me to continue my research and I'll consider this debt settled. I wish to rid the world of a disease named the Pestilence. It was dictated to me by my master...Nergal."

!

Is...this the doctor from my dreams? No, that can't be possible. It shouldn't be. Or is it?

I wish to rid the world of a disease named the Pestilence.

I gasped. There's no doubt in my mind now. This doctor...and the one from my dreams are one and the same. With that realization came another. In every encounter I had with this...thing...they all ended the same way...

With my death.

I need to get out of here!

Suddenly, the voices cease their conversation. The air is eerily still over everything but the panicked vibrations of my heart, and I stand waiting for any sign of danger.

"..."

I gulped.

The "Doctor" said, "Ah. It appears we have a guest nearby. I thought you said you had men posted at the perimeter?"

!

My cover's blown. A shot of adrenaline rush through my veins, and I quickly shoot my way up the steps at a frantic pace. The mossy, cracked cobblestones walls at my sides turn into a blur as my tired legs pounded against the hard floor. The fear going through my mind was indescribable and split-second flashbacks of my past nightmares brought me unsettling torment.

You are sick, Samuel...

You will die from the Pestilence...

Please...allow me to cure you of your ailment...

"Just as I have done with your friends..."

That last remark chills me to the bone. I thought it was a flashback from my dreams, but in reality the sensation feels too real to be a simple recalled memory. It sounds like...someone is speaking to me...

!

I pause below an old painting that displayed the likeness of Lyn's mother; the honorable Lady Madelyn. I'm somewhere in Castle Caelin's southern wing, an L-shaped corridor that held many of the building's hospital rooms. As a former patient returning here for the first time since my initial hospitalization, I should be filling the moment with nostalgic memories. It would've been that way, had it not been for the lone swordswoman blocking my path.

I take in a sigh of relief. "Lyn! Oh my God! You're alive!"

I drop my sword onto the ground and wrap my...friend in a warm embrace. I'm like a child with tears falling down the sides of my face, ever oblivious to Lyn's newfound silent nature.

I said, "L-Lyn...I messed up. Really bad. I...I just want to make this all right. I know your heart is with someone else...but I just can't handle it anymore. My mind's all over the place. L-Let's just...get out of here. It's dangerous."

In hindsight, saying all those things at once probably wasn't the best idea. Any rational human being would've recognized me for the crazed lunatic I was and pushed me away. However, Lyn was not a rational human being. At least...not the way she is now...

Holding Lyn tighter, I wonder why her skin is as cold as ice. At first, I think it's because of the relatively cold air in the atmosphere...but then I realize something. The air isn't cold. We're in the latter end of summer on one of the more temperate regions of the continent. Why...is her skin cold...and clammy?

I gently nudge Lyn away from me and allow the moonlight to better illuminate her face. What I see...is nothing less than my worst nightmare.

To my horror her skin is gray and radiated with death. Her darkened green hair carried none of the shine it did before, and her eyes look at me with that unmistakable shade of gold...

Lyn...no...

"..."

!

A swift, metallic blade cleaves through my stomach, and I fall onto the floor with zero feeling in my legs. The top portion of my body is severed from the rest of it...with the assailant having cut clean through my spinal cord. The cold stone around me is quickly covered with a cursed blessing of my blood.

I said, "W-Why...L-Ly— Ack!"

I cough up crimson and paint the floor in a grim interpretation of modern art. I lose my ability to speak, and slowly my perception turns into a haze.

This hurts...so much...

I look up to see Lyn's... or what's left of her peer at me with her golden pair of robotics eyes. My blood splattered about her body like a woman who had just murdered her troubled lover, but I understood that was not the case. Lyn would never do something like this, at least not this coldly. Lyn had emotion.

This..."thing" in front of me is not Lyn. It's a morph, constructed from her quintessential husk.

The morph sheathed its sword and raises its head, like a servant showing respect towards its master. I turn my head with the last vestiges of strength I possessed, and feasted my eyes on a man wearing a long, black brimmed hat.

He's...the splitting image of Doctor Swift. Same outfit and everything. The only difference is his hunched-posture, though that's only a minor detraction from the larger picture.

Gasping for air, I said, "Doctor Swift. You fiend...you're responsible for this aren't you?"

The Doctor looks down on my bloodied heap and slightly tilts his head with intrigue. He replied, "Doctor Swift? I am a Doctor, but I do not go by the name Swift. Perhaps you've confused me for someone else...just like my assistant did earlier."

Assistant?

I said, "Assist— Ack!"

I cough up another pint of blood. There will be no more words.

The Doctor said, "Shhhh...rest now. When you expire, I will finally rid you of the Pestilence that's taken host in your body. You are sick...very, very sick."

...

Shaking from blood loss, I fight for what felt like an eternity to prevent the inevitable. I recall old memories spent with Lani, my friends, and finally Lyn...

"Samuel, let's keep each other safe. At times like now, we only have each other to rely on..."

"I can't hold these feelings anymore, Sam. I love you. Please, I don't know what to do."

"It's settled then! You'll be my bold tactician, and I'll be your peerless warrior!"

Quietly, I lament over that old promise we made over a year ago. It was foolish for me to think I could've ever been the tactician Lyn wanted me to be. I'm utterly incompetent and far too receptive to my emotions. I'm arrogant to both my peers and enemies, along with being a virtual non-contributor in most battles. All of this mixed to become an explosive cocktail my friend Eliwood was too amiable to recognize, and the result will cripple not only myself but his cause. My actions will leave the army without a tactician, likely lead to Eliwood never finding his father, and most importantly, fail to keep those I love safe. I am truly the most despicable of failures, deserving of a paragraph in the history of terrible military leaders.

I'm too weak...

Closing my eyes, my last sight is of the doctor's gleaming gold orbs bleeding through his mask. I have plenty of regrets, like knowing Lani chance for survival will end with me. I wonder how this outcome would've changed if I possessed even an ounce more of strength. If I was stronger, would I have just killed these two morphs outright and carried on with my mission? Would I have had the mental fortitude to see through the fog and recognized Florina in the vegetation? Would I...have been able to prevent Nergal from ruining my world...and continue living with Lani in the peace?

Sometimes, it takes strength to find true peace...

There's no avoiding this fate now. In the past, I was lucky to receive blessings to avoid death...but I fear not even a blessing from a god can prevent this. I will die here today, and there's nothing I can do it about. As is the case with many things in my life: I'm simply too weak.

Too weak...

...

I take my last breath...and fall into the void.


?...

Life is a delicate thing. It's both the subject of much anticipation and much anxiety. Some people spend their entire lives fearing the end, while others live despite it. As for Samuel, there was one point in his life that he could claim he belonged to the latter camp, but now that is no longer the case...

You shouldn't live your life in fear, Lumina. Cherish it, because you'll never know when the end will come.

Those were words Samuel told Lumina, a woman he saw as nothing less than his sister. He used to be much more enthusiastic before the alcohol, trauma, and loss gripped his psyche to levels he never intended them to reach. This resulted in visions grounded in fiction, likely the prolonged product of months of sustained brain injuries.

Samuel could never achieve his goals the way he is now. The mountain to climb is too steep to climb in one lifetime. He ran out of strength halfway through reaching the top, and he fell down with a dramatic and stiffening crack. What else is there to do but regret over what could have been, and retreat to the grave in shame? Fortunately, Samuel will not share that fate.

He enjoys a luxury not shared with many other climbers. Unlike his peers, he will not have a single lifetime to climb this difficult mountain called life...

He...will have two.


On a snowy hill somewhere...

Cold wind blows through the frigid mountains of Illia. The smoldering embers of a disaster illuminated faraway like a glittering lightbulb, and the new moon cakes the land in darkness. A single purple-cloaked body lies soaking in the snow, his clothes drenched in frozen crimson.

He lies there like a boulder encapsulated in time. He's oblivious to the surrounding environment, especially so to the translucent green-haired goddess standing before him.


"..."

"Wake up..."

I lightly fidget and wrap myself tighter in my garb. The thick cloth is warm...and very comfortable.

"Come on, wake up. I've been waiting for hours."

I ignore that child-like, yet antiquated voice. It's better that I just continue...to...sleep...

"Ugh. I can't believe you. First you go out and act stupid, and now I have to pick up after your mistakes. What a stupid, pathetic little human."

That sarcastic voice. It stings the same way every time. Is that...

Sothis?!

I shake the snow off my back and turn around. There's a familiar face in front of me, and I'm blessed with a cheerful sense of bewilderment.

I said, "Sothis! Its been so long! I thought you were dead!"

Sothis rolled her eyes, "You should be less concerned with me and more concerned with yourself. You really don't know what's going do you?"

I rub my head and remember the grim situation I was just in. I was bleeding out on the floor in Castle Caelin, and now I was somewhere familiar...

Very familiar...

I said, "Wait...why am I in Illia?! What's going on?"

Sothis replied, "I suppose I should congratulate you. You've done something no mortal has done since I was alive. You've died, and now you're exactly three months in the past. Welcome back to the day of May 21st."


A/N: Did I just put a time loop in my story? Heck yeah! See y'all in two weeks!