Chapter 54: New Man
By SodiumChloride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.
A/N: Sorry this came out a bit late. I'm still recovering for last night's all-nighter, and the website wasn't responding well to the editing software I was using. On the bright side, there's a good chance I got a perfect score on my exam!
N: His preparations now complete, Samuel embarks on his journey to beat fate.
May 29th, 981.
Dear Erk of House Reglay,
Hi! How are you? By the time you get this, it should be somewhere between early to mid-June. A lot of has happened since you left. I'll get you up to speed...
My relationship with Alexia aside, Lani remains kidnapped by Nergal's men, and I am to leave the village by June 20th. I will partake in an adventure with an associate I know in Ostia, but I require some of your help. Canas informed me about a potion you constructed specifically for me, and I believe it may help with my ailment...
Before I leave you, I implore you to reject that mission with Madame Priscilla. Have somebody from the Mage's Academy do it, but please— PLEASE avoid going yourself. I can't tell you how I know of this, but a great danger lies down her path. Please heed my warning friend. I fear for your safety...
Godspeed to you, friend. May the Creator help us both.
From, Samuel Castillo.
Present...
The day is August 3rd, and it's been almost two weeks since my expulsion from Höger. Much has happened since then, and today I wake up the morning after my meeting with Marquess Ostia.
I take a deep breath and let in the fine Ostian mountain air flowing through the open window of my room. Thankfully, my physical health is great and my sanity is in fine form, though occasionally Alex's bitter words still burn. I try not to think about her much anymore, but I fear about the inevitable conversation I'll have to share with Lani.
Laniakea...it's been about four months since I've seen her adorable face. Her memory still lingers in my mind as a burden I alone carry, but that reality doesn't bother me. I take pride in being her knight in shining armor and look forward to the day we can once again revel in new experiences of splendor. The happiness we are yet to share keeps me going, along with motivating me to become a better man than I am now.
Speaking of a knight in shining armor, my training regimen makes me look quite the part. I've packed on about five pounds of weight since Sothis woke me up on that snowy hill, giving me a decent build that I can confidently say is about average. I'm no longer the scrawny little tactician a brawn can bully around like a small child, but a true man willing to take on any obstacle in his path. I continue to workout and eat when I can, though my experiences towards my magical abilities still give me some trouble.
I talked to Niime and Canas about my chronic mana struggles, but the former could only provide an old trinket that used to belong to her former husband. It's a small blue gem in the shape of a tear named the "Tear of the Dragon", an old artifact of materialized dragon tears. The way it works is that it permanently raises the user's mana levels by 0.1% every time they used a spell, capping out at about 5x their original mana level. It's a very useful item, if it weren't for one drawback. Any spell used after equipping it weakens offensive and defensive magic alike. It does this by manipulating the fundamental formula of magic...
(Magical Power) = (C)*(Magical Force)*(Mana)²
The "C" in the formula is the "Magician's Constant", a variable that varies based on the user's race. An elf would have a value of 1.25, a manakete 1.5, and a vampire 0.75. Humans and Homunculi have a value of 1.00. Usually scholars omit this constant from the equation because of the triviality of the value, but it applies to me for one reason...
The tear...lowers the constant to 0.10.
For any other ordinary person, this feature alone would make using the tear impractical. However, I am no ordinary man. I am a homunculus gifted with an abnormally large MF value, and a painfully small mana value. The tear is my solution. This item can help me fix the only thing preventing me from becoming the mage I know I can be. I know by the virtue of the formula my mana can out scale any temporary damper caused by the constant. That's a mathematical probability—no...a mathematical certainty. I will use this tear to become the strongest mage of all time...and use my power to stop the evil sorcerer keeping my niece in chains...
...
Besides my tear, I also obtained other pieces of hardware to improve my journey. I procured new steel toe boots, a new waterproof white outfit, and light steel armor to protect my chest region. My weaponry includes a single sword attached to the gauntlet underlying my steel hand, which was a measure to prevent mana loss from having to clasp onto a sword. Now more armored and armed than ever before, I felt ready to face the enemies that lay ahead...
Finally, my last action before leaving the village was to obtain a stat scroll. A stat scroll is a piece of parchment that details a person's fighting attributes, along with potential growth rates in those fields. I got one made for me at the Fist's HQ...
Level: 5
Class: Mage
Strength: 5 [Average]
Magic: 3 [Phenomonal]
Skill: 6 [Average]
Speed: 5 [Below Average]
Luck: 0 [None]
Defense: 5 [Below Average]
Resistance: 8 [Above Average]
Oh boy. No luck?! My stats are horrible. Everything but my magic and resistance, that is. I will sure have to be creative with these two attributes, but that's not the only thing that catches my eye. There's a small statement written on the bottom corner of the scroll, a place mostly left blank for the vast majority of Elibeans.
Special Ability: Voidwalker
When the user upgrades classes and attains level six, the user may blink across space at will. The blink can cover a distance no longer than one meter in radius, with small magical damage enacted at blink's end.
Currently, the user may phase through small objects, though this phenomenon is uncontrollable. The user will also take 15% less magical damage as a passive to this ability.
Discovering this was the icing to the cake. Although right now I'll still be about as weak (if not weaker) than I was before, I can at least fight knowing I have the foundation to become very powerful. For now, I'll just work through the weaknesses of my current state, and carry on for the power that awaits...
!
I hear a knock on the door. It's from Matthew, who'll surely send me on my way towards Pherae...
He said, "Hey! It's time to go!"
I silently nod and take a deep breath. Now is my opportunity to fix my mistakes, to make sure I get things right...and...
To secure a better future...
One week later...
I'm patiently (and soberly) waiting outside the village gate when I notice a humble knight riding down a road. It's Lowen.
I mysteriously meet his gaze and nod like I had rehearsed several hours before. The gesture comes out like I want to, neither too lax nor forced, but with just enough gusto to express an aura of confidence I lacked the first time around.
Lowen asked, "Stranger? What business do you have getting the attention of a knight of Pharea?"
I smile and lift my hood from my head, revealing my characteristic curly white hair. It glitters in the sunlight like snow, and the young man's synapses fire off in succession.
I replied, "I hear a Sir Eliwood requires the assistance of a tactician. I am that tactician, the one they sent you to pick up."
Lowen smiles, surely thankful that he didn't have to search the town for me. He disembarks from his steed and gives me a firm handshake, but winces when he feels the metallic edges of my gloved hand.
He said, "Hmm? I was never told you were a cripple."
I replied, "There's a lot of things people don't say about me. Come, we musn't waste anytime. You must take me to Lord Eliwood."
Lowen shakes his head, looking out towards the open gate standing behind me. I knew he had stuff to do, but if I mentioned it, it'd come out creepy.
He said, "I must complete some errands. I hope you don't mind."
I smiled, a nodded enthusiastically. I had no desire in coming off as a superficial human being, so now was my opportunity to build the friendship we shared before. I'll start by acting professionally, but then I'll swing the conversation to something much more fun.
I said, "Of course! Perhaps you can tell me about the mission. Oh, what are my manners? My name is Kenan Vacia, esteemed tactician from the land of Carazan..."
Later...
War is a disturbing thing. I should be used to it by now, but every brush with it brings me the same sense of adrenaline only seen at amusement parks. It's a disturbing thing to think out loud, but even my thinning morality can't deny that fact. Fighting to the death is way more fun when you know how to fight.
"Hwuuuuuagh!"
My sword whizzes through the air and vibrates as it bangs into a nearby tree. It shakes the very bones in my wrist, but regardless, my will pushes me to stubbornly eye my opponent. He's a hideous-looking fellow with unkept raven hair and muscles that easily out massed my own. Still, he carried himself with aggression unsurprising of his class, and I read him like a book.
He sneered, "Aye! You'll pay for your mistake!"
He lunged forward to take advantage of my stuck blade, but I'm ready. I quickly unscrew the blade from its gauntlet and duck out of the way of his axe, just in time for his weapon to lodge itself in kind. The bandit's eyes widen with shock, an expression that quickly transforms into fright once he notices the fire tome strapped to my waist...
"Pulvis ex igni summam potestatem ades!"
A tiny, albeit hot streak of purple flame tunnels straight into the bandit's chest. He screams in anger, but the spell only pissed him off instead of doing much damage. He raises his axe to give me another go, and I frantically fix another blade to my gauntlet as if it were a cheap razor.
Heh, it's the same concept. I've only attached my sword to my gauntlet with a few loose screws, meaning that if my blade were to undergo a monumental amount of torque, the blade instead of my gauntlet will break off. Handy since this thing gets stuck into stuff often.
My spare sword snaps onto the gauntlet flawlessly, and I remind myself to thank the engineer once this whole battle was done. Never mind that the engineer is me…
!
Thunk!
I'm struck with a brief sense of shock, and then deja vu as the bandit falls onto the ground with an arrow protruding from his head. I squint my eyes ahead and see a girl standing on the porch of her family home, the enthusiastic archer named Rebecca.
As if on cue, Sothis rises from her daily nap.
S: Huh, fate plays its game in mysterious ways. This place, these circumstances...they're uncannily similar to how it was before. You didn't even need Rebecca to save you yet she did, anyway.
Uncanny, indeed. It's like even though I took steps to change the past, the ever-arching arms of reality made its own efforts to maintain the present. There are some things that I can change directly, like influencing those around me, but the timeline naturally wants to fall back to the established reality. Call it a form of taking the path of least resistance. With that in mind, it's my duty as a traveller of the past to ensure the flow of time goes down the preferred channels.
I raise my hand in gratitude, and Rebecca smiles in kind. Her gesture is as warm as I remembered it, and the comforting fuzzy feeling almost makes me forget we're in a war zone.
Rebecca said, "Hi! My name is Rebecca! I'm an archer around these parts...are you here to fend off these bandits?"
Her accent contains a rustic flavor very similar to mine. At times like these, I like to imagine myself as a stranger coming into town in one of those western flicks. Mysterious, well-mannered, and disheveled. The perfect man to form a posse and bring in an outlaw for questioning, or in my case, several.
S: I wouldn't really call it questioning. More brutal, medieval style warfare.
It's always Sothis' job to ruin my fun. Why can't she be a good conscious and stay quiet? I already get enough commentary from the people inhabiting this bountiful earth.
S: The nerve of you! I for one think you need an extra voice to help you avoid making bad decisions! I know you've made enough of those.
...
I digress. Arguing with women has never been my strong suit. Whether it be my loose grasp with rhetoric or the shrinking synapses of my sinking mind, it's futile to try.
S: You're just looking for an excuse for me to get mad at you! I'm going to give you a peace of my m— hey! Stop ignoring me! Pay attention!
I shift my attention away from the green goblin in my mind and back towards the Dorothy standing on her front perch. Fighting bandits away from a village is a far cry from trying to get back home to Kansas, but it's a task I'm willing to help her with nonetheless. Especially now that I have an elixir in my possession...
I said, "I am! I'm here with the Pheraen army, pleased to make your acquaintance..."
Several months later...
I'm getting stronger and stronger by the day. Sure, it may only be small incremental changes for now, but I can see it on the battlefield. I can now easily take on the aggression of the common bandit on the battlefield, though trained soldiers, pirates, and mages are still out of the question. This was a fact observed by Lowen, who noted my increased vigor over the past few days.
It's July 29th, the afternoon after we dealt with Boise (Boise?) in Santaruz. The summer sun basks us in a veil of suffocating heat, hitting me especially hard since I'm still accustomed to the frigid temperatures of Illia. I observe the surrounding trees like the bastions of shelter they were, feeling gratified as the shade made the heat a little more bearable. However, this sense of discomfort only applied to me. The rest of the army carried on about their day as if the weather was a normality, an attitude exemplified in the little runt named Guy.
Guy is an interesting character, and I'm not saying that because he tried to kill me. He's a second hailing from a tribe once allied with the Lorca, the Kutolah. The Kutolah are the largest tribe in the nation of Sacae, and known to contain some rather quiet, albeit stubborn warriors.
Whether it be my curiosity or my desire to find out more about the culture of Lyn's homeland, I found the green-haired sword man during lunch. He was eating a tuna sandwich with those dirty mitts of his, though I wasn't much better considering my putrid veil of must.
Introducing myself, I extend my musty hand forward and introduce myself. He looks at it and then back at his sandwich, probably wondering what type of trouble he'd subconsciously gotten himself into. I reassure him his record with me is cleaner than a drug addict at a rehab center (which in hindsight isn't very clean at all), and we sink into meaningful small talk.
Guy said, "You aren't about to give me one of those interviews, are you? Matthew's been telling me you do that to new recruits."
The interviews. They were something I took great professionalism in conducting; a slight reminder of the engineering expositions I frequented in my youth. I started doing them in the last timeline to vet the members of our army, and I took so much from them in terms of both functionality and enjoyment that I did it again in this timeline. Every interview turned out well then, all but Guy's.
Thinking about my interaction with him sends a chill down my spine. What started off as a cordial conversation between guys rapidly disintegrated into a verbal fistfight. I don't recall why it turned out that way, but I'm sure it has something to do with our incompatible personalities, the stupid way he talks, or the fact he tried to kill me. Probably more of the latter, to be honest.
S: Here you are thinking like you're back in high school. He was just doing his job. Get over it.
I most certaintly won't get over it. It took me days to close that intake valve completely, and the stains on my robes took forever to clean up in an age without washing machines. The little runt didn't bother to help me out, much less express any remorse for his actions.
S: Then why bother talk to him if you know he's a brat? Stick to your guns and keep to yourself. Unless...you're trying to get something from him?
...
There is something I need from Guy. It's a repetition of the knowledge he told me the first time over, as my failing mind had forgotten it. I need to know what got Guy and I in hot water, even if means learning the hard way.
Focusing my attention back on Guy, I said, "Eh...I'm afraid that's what this is. Sorry, army policy. It's one of the many duties entrusted to me by Lord Eliwood."
S: That's a lie. You started doing this on your own volition, and Eliwood only said it was within your rights as tactician.
I ignore the green goblin in my mind and fixate myself on the conversation. Guy grits his teeth and shows an expression of bother, as if my mere presence around him had become a nuisance.
He said, "Let's get this over with."
Taking my opportunity, I obliged. I started by questioning him on his background...
I asked, "So what brings you to the lands of Lycia? It's a long way from Sacae."
Guy's otherwise lackluster demeanor evaporates in an instant. Eager to tell me of his mission, he answered, "I'm training to become the best swordsman in my home nation!"
Great. I mentally scoffed. One of those shounen MC types.
I said, "So you didn't get kicked out? Why didn't you train with your tribe?"
Guy's gleeful attitude leaves as soon as it came, and he returns to his smug teenaged face.
He said, "No, I did not get kicked out. I just thought the Kutolah tribe wasn't the best place to do my training. I'm not in bad relations with them, but well..."
"..."
I stop writing in my notebook and look up at Guy, whose eyes have awkwardly shifted away from me and towards a nearby bush. A drop of anxious sweat falls down the side of his cheek.
I asked, "But what?"
Guy replied, "Uh...I figured I didn't have a place with the tribe. I couldn't hunt or fish very well, but the chieftain said I had a good sword arm. I...I honestly felt like a parasite. I couldn't stay there anymore, not when my mother already struggled with my younger siblings..."
Guy explains to me that his parents comprised of a hardworking mother and a nonexistent, deadbeat father. The latter had worked as a mercenary for some time before settling down and getting married, but he proved inept at village life. He left after only three years of returning to the Kutolah with the claim that he would send back money from his mercenary work. Instead, the family would never see him again, and rumor has it he runs a gambling house somewhere in Badon.
Guy's had a rough going at life. Most people in the continent do. It's a place full of the evils of the civilized world, complete with rampant crime, incurable disease, unbalanced power structures, and war-hungry nobles. It doesn't matter if you live in the city, the countryside, or a village. This world can and WILL get to you, especially if you're a commoner.
I sympathetically jot down Guy's words and nod my head like I'm a therapist. I visualize myself sitting on a comfy chair with a mini fountain peacefully flowing water like a river, and my nomadic amigo recounting his story without hesitation. Perhaps I should have brought some bamboo or one of those mini rock gardens you can get on Amazon…
!
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Guy snaps his fingers at me, popping the conscious bubble I'd set around myself. Annoyed, he says, "Hey, are we done? You're dozing off into space."
Embarrassed, I reply, "A-Almost! I've got one more question on here..."
I look down on the pre-written portion of my notes to see the last question I had for Guy. It read: Ask about the Lorca/Kutolah relationship.
S: The Lorca/Kutolah relationship? Were you referring to the alliance?
Rath had mentioned to me that the Lorca and Kutolah tribes had a defense pact several centuries old. He didn't have much more information than that, however; the tribe exiled him at a young age. Guy might have more context about this relationship since he'd been with the tribe longer.
I asked, "So, I was told that the Lorca and Kutolah were allied prior to the former being...annihilated at the hands of the Taliver. What do you know about that?"
Guy pauses to rub his chin in thought. After what felt like several minutes, he replied, "Yeah, we were allied with them, supposedly anyway. We hadn't fought a war together for several generations, and I know several of our elders were grumbling about it for a while. Our clan always got into skirmishes with the Djutes, and the Lorca tribe hadn't been aiding us as much as we'd liked them to."
The Djutes are the largest tribe in Sacae. This much was what I knew, but it never occurred to me that they were rivals with the Kutolah. I suppose an arrangement like that in an inevitability; strong regional powers tend to clash with one another even in this world.
Pressing the issue further, I asked, "How so?"
Guy replied, "Well, they've stopped sending warriors a month before I left the village. That's all I know, but the tribe were rather upset about it. Some called it a betrayal of our agreement, while a few pointed out the triviality of it all. We didn't need the Lorca tribe to help us quell these small skirmishes, but some of our leadership still felt slighted. So, we stopped sending warriors to help them out too."
"..."
Thinking back on the massacre, I remember there being nothing but Lorca amongst the casualties. No Kutolah stood among their ranks, as had they been the Lorca would've had a much better chance in fending off the attack. This seems suspicious to me; the Taliver had been causing problems for the Lorca for Elimine knows how long. Surely the Lorca would have rallied with their much bigger ally to fend off this lingering threat to their survival...but yet...
They didn't.
Suddenly, a stray thought streaks through my mind. It's as diabolical as it was sickening.
I said, "The Lorca had their water supply poisoned for little over three weeks. Surely, the Kutolah would've received a message for help in that time. Why didn't they come?"
"I don't know."
Guy shifts his gaze away from me, but I don't feel like he's hiding anything from me. This seems like a source of embarrassment for him.
I said, "But you have to know something, right? You're from the blasted tribe."
Guy shakes his head and takes in a tense breath. He clenches his hands white, and his eyes radiate with displeasure. It was a mistake to have spoken to him with that tone of voice.
He said, "I said I don't know! I already told you I left the tribe, if I hadn't I probably would've known!"
I stare at our newest recruit with still eyes. A single question streaks through my mind, and suddenly I remember what had led to this interview falling apart...
Do you think it's possible that the Kutolah allowed the Lorcan Massacre to happen?
That accusation is as blunt as it is offensive. What drew my mind to conceive such a question? What's to be gained by asking it?
S: Saying that will make him angry. Don't. Do. It.
...
"You can go."
Disgusted by my audacity, I tell Guy to leave. His tense shoulders relax and he nods, his temper having not reached its breaking point. I watch him leave our little space with relief, but meanwhile I'm still experiencing mental gymnastics.
What was I thinking? Why would I even fathom to consider such a conspiracy theory? It just doesn't make sense! No sacaen tribe would just stand by and let their brethren be slaughtered…!
Or would they?
I don't understand the politics of Sacae. I only know of the small window provided to me by Lyn, Rath, and Guy. On top of that, their culture is foreign, and bound together by a tight rope of laws. I must realize that as an American unfamiliar with their ways, my perception will be taken from a lens clouded with different values.
Argh! Why the heck does this have to be complicated?!
Feeling stressed out, I ruffle up my hair and take a swig of water. In my confusion of grappling with the sacaen way of life, I think about Lyn again. I think back on the consuming sense of revenge that took hold of her the last time we met, and I wonder if I'd been understanding this all wrong. What if this sense of revenge didn't originate from a personal vendetta at all, but from a cultural fixation to avenge her kin? Is Lyn obligated to kill me, even if she doesn't want to?
!
Thinking about it makes my head spin, and the only remedy is the flask inside my knapsack. I'll think about this at a later time, perhaps after I allow the timeline to change its course...
After I save the Kingdom of Caelin from certain destruction.
Several weeks later...
It's now exactly three days prior to my "death day" in the previous timeline. However, I am not meticulously leading an army on a forced march through the terrain of eastern Lycia. Instead, I'm prowling through the woodlands of Caelin, alone save for a single attendant by my side.
Matthew said, "I hope you brought us out here for a good reason. I feel horrible."
After driving the Lausian army from their homeland, we voided sleeping and left to shadow them immediately. This saved us a few days in travel time, but we still linger behind by a few miles. Thus, I left the army with Matthew so we could try to beat the Lausian army to Caelin first, and thankfully our efforts have been successful.
S: But why Matthew? Surely Erk or somebody would have been more ideal.
True, someone like Erk would have been the perfect person to take on a journey like this. However, I'm still upset at him for his blatant disregard of my letter. Even if with my warning he escorted Priscilla to Lycia for Elimine knows what reason, leading to an unexpected chain of events on the battlefield that faithful day...
I threw everything but the kitchen sink to save him and his client. I even kept the blasted mage by my side the entire day, ever watchful for stray arrows that could end his life. Thankfully, we survived the day with no casualties besides a few bruised bones.
At the end of the day, I chose not to reveal my identity to him, at least not yet. I'm not planning to do so until I take care of the problem that led me to time travel. Speaking of which...
Matthew sticks his head from a bush and peers over at the guards standing by the castle gate. They stand looking over the landscape, mindful of any minute movements.
He asked, "So, what was the purpose of getting us here? Are we just going to go up to the front door and tell them about the Lausian army a couple days away? No...that's too easy. You got something else in mind, don't you, Samuel?"
As much as I'd like to tell Matthew of my experiences with the "Doctor" in the previous life, I can't. Sothis informed me that the stability of this timeline is finicky, and a single mention of that past could destroy this reality. I need to be careful with my words and refer to things as indirectly as I can.
I said, "I know I didn't tell you why I brought you out here, but you're right. We will warn the Kingdom of the impending invasion, but there's something else we need to watch out for. Nergal has a mole somewhere inside that castle and I fear it's plotting against the princess' life as we speak."
Matthew raises a brow. He had heard no mention of a mole during his briefings in Ostia.
He said, "A mole? How do you know of this?"
I sigh and hold my hand over my heart. I felt it skip a beat. I said, "I know this will sound crazy, but I need to you believe me on this. Call it...my homunculi's sense coming into play. I sense someone of my own in there."
S: You're quite the liar. Have you considered a career in politics?
Matthew observes me skeptically and then shrugs his shoulders. He didn't have any reason to suspect ill intent in my actions.
He said, "Oh well, I believe you. I'll go in there, on one condition."
"What?"
He smiles and drops something only Matthew would say. He said, "You need to stop hating me. After we do this, let's have a drink and talk this out."
...
I laugh and pat the man on back. The gesture startles him, making his eyes widen like a clean plate of china.
I said, "If I'd hated you I never would have brought you along. Come on, I've had three months to get over what you did to me. We're fine, I know you were just doing your job."
S: Hehe. Some could say you've had six...
Calming himself, he said, "So, how are you going to get in? You may have a different mask, hair color, and outfit, but I'm sure somebody will recognize you with that accent. Especially Lady Lyn."
I smile and reveal a sack I'd been towing around on my horse's back. Inside was a small potion with amber liquid.
I said, "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. I got somebody to hook me up with just what I needed..."
Castle Caelin...
Entering Castle Caelin drew a lot of suspicious glances from the locals, some of which were still shaky from the last masked figure to pass through the gate. We did our best to seem as unthreatening as possible, with the two of us cracking jokes like simple tourists. However, our true mission was anything but jovial. We were to deliver a message to the marquess, along with discovering the morph hiding within these walls.
The local marshal led us to the throne room for an audience with Lord Hausen (the steward had died in Azazel's rampage). The area is eerily similar to how it was in my dream, with the same banners, green carpet, and decor adorning it. The only difference is the bright sunlight beaming through the high stained windows, which felt warm against my worn body.
Looking up, I notice Lord Hausen sitting on his throne. His age is as obvious as ever, though his cheeks vibrated with good health. At his side in an empty, smaller throne...presumably meant for Lyn.
Where's Lyn? I wondered.
!
The marshal said, "M'lord, two of Lord Eliwood's men have requested to speak with you. They are Lieutenant Vacia and his companion Matthew."
I didn't have much time to think on that. Matthew and I bowed to make our introductions, though I bent the bare minimum to show respect.
I said, "Our deepest respects to you. I pray you'll treat us well."
For a moment Lord Hausen observes us in silence, and I worry that he'd snuffed me out. The voice potion I'd consumed earlier had temporarily eliminated every ounce of twang in my accent, and now I spoke a dialect of generic Elibean. Perhaps it wasn't the accent that got him at all, but the pocket watch I had tucked into my shirt.
Bah, what am I thinking. Lord Hausen can't see that well. He's an old man.
My assumption turns out to be correct. He nods his head approvingly and accepts us none the wiser.
He said, "House Caelin always treats their guests with respect. Please tell me, what brings you to my home?"
I reply in a manner reminiscent of the great German statesman, Otto von Bismarck. Well, that's what I thought in my mind though. In reality, I spoke in tone comparable to the understandable tongue of a radio broadcaster, like former Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo. Not a bad voice to have for sure, but nowhere near as booming or impressive as Otto.
I said, "I don't want to take much of your time, so I'll get to the point. The Lausian army is a day's march away, and they intend to take the castle."
Lord Hausen frowns, though not so much as to be advertdly noticeable. He closes together his wrinkled hands and acts in an instant.
He said, "Mhm. It appears there's nothing to do but dig in. Tell me, does Lord Eliwood intend to send aid?"
I nod, "Yes. For our part we will participate in the siege however long it will take. Along with being a tactician I am a civil engineer, so I can construct some defenses to temporarily patch up the breach in the main wall."
S: I wouldn't exactly call you experienced.
Wrong. I spent two years interning in my old life and successfully transitioned into a 6-month stint in this one. I consider myself fairly qualified, especially considering my past achievements in bridge building and fortification construction.
I added, "I'll work with any material you give me. I'll even make some walls out of mud if you need me to."
Hausen considers my proposition, but the move was obvious. He said, "Very well. I haven't been able to procure the skills of an engineer in quite some time. Please don't disappoint..."
!
He points towards a girl with lavender hair standing nearby. I recognize her immediately, and the sight makes me dizzy.
Florina?!
He ordered, "Please show these men to their temporary places of residence. Take their bags too."
In my opinion, a Pegasus knight should have no business in being a bar hop. Their spirits are fluttery and free, much like the birds that graze the sky. However, I'm too shocked by Florina's presence to make my objections known, at least not until it was already too late...
...
S: Snap out of it you buffoon! She isn't dead! She's very alive and about to take your briefcase!
My briefcase.
My briefcase was where I put my most treasured items. This included spare clothes, Lani's ribbon and locket, a few extra pairs of hands, and a weapon I'd sworn to never use unless I ever came across a threat that outweighed its potential of bodily harm...
!
I spy Florina take my briefcase off the ground, but neglects to check if its half-broken lock was still attached. I rush over to her side to stop this, and I succeed, but not before a single item escaped its prison.
Damnit Florina.
A single, smoothbore flintlock pistol falls onto the ground. A veil of silence fills the air as everyone glimpses this futuristic piece of equipment. They're unsure what to make of it, but fortunately for me no one suspects it's a weapon.
I sigh and calmly pick up the pistol from the ground. Florina looks at my wide-eyed with confused panic in what she had just done, though she's as clueless as everyone else about the item she just revealed to the world.
Frightened, she quivered, "I-I'm sorry! So s-sorry! P-Please don't get mad!"
Mad? Why would I get made at you? You have every reason to be mad at me...
I shake my head, "Don't worry about it. People make mistakes, besides you dropped nothing important. This is...a smokescreen maker."
I'm strategically lying to make sure the morph doesn't understand what this thing really is (for all I know he could be in the room). If he does, he may devise some measure against it, or worse, use it against me. I've already been hurt with this thing once, and I want to avoid having it happen again.
I said, "I'll take care of this. You can just show us to our rooms if you may."
I turn and politely bow toward Lord Hausen. I added, "We'll be taking our leave. I'll be meeting up with the quartermaster soon if your men can arrange it."
Lord Hausen nodded, "Consider it done..."
…
We walk down the sparsely populated halls in expected silence. I do my best to wipe the blood from the familiar bright walls, erase the look of death from Florina's person, and put away the cursed golden eyes from that grim day. I look up at the ever imposing portrait of Madelyn, wondering what words she'd be saying to me right now.
Protect my daughter.
I suppose that's the least could do for her. A sinful man like me needs to atone...
!
"Kenan, you all right dude?"
Matthew taps me on the shoulder, and I'm taken aback by his concerns. Of all people I've been expecting to be concerned about my health, Matthew is not one of them. I replied, "Huh? Of course I am."
He disagreed, "Nah. You've got that look of shock about you. Be honest. Do you need a break?"
"..."
Time to come clean, I suppose.
I said, "To be honest, Matthew I feel more stressed than an acrobat performing over boiling oil. But...the answer is no. I'll get a break once we finish with all this. Lives are at stake, and I can't falter."
Looking forward, another flash of Florina's dead body streaks through my mind. It makes me flinch, but only slightly. The guilt I feel for killing Florina is immense, but at least now it's no longer in the realm of possibility since I've become a regular consumer of Erk's numbing potion.
Self-Care, Erk's potion, and no more concussions. The holy trinity in keeping me sane...
With that out of the way, Matthew points towards my briefcase.
Matthew said, "So...now that we're alone, are you going to tell me what's really inside that briefcase?"
Amidst losing myself in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed that we'd ended up in a solitary part of the castle. Florina continues to lead the way unabated, though I'm quickly remembering how big this entire castle was.
It won't hurt to tell him here. Nobody besides Florina is within an earshot.
Clutching the handle of my briefcase tight, I replied, "I can't tell you much, but I will tell you one thing..."
"It's a fail-safe, just in case my inner strength isn't enough to turn back the will of fate."
