Merry Christmas all y'all! (or whatever arbitrary holiday you do or don't celebrate). Hope you guys have made the most out of this year, and here's to hoping next one is better.
Also, I've got a lot of things to say, so please read the Writer's notes at the end of the chapter.
SONG LIST (For those that play the recommended music with the fanfic)
- "Such bonds are the true strengths of this army" [Fire Emblem Awakening OST]
- Zero Mortal Plan [Dragon Ball Super OST]
- Desperate Assault [Dragon Ball Super OST]
- Those Chosen by the Planet(Intro Looped) [Final Fantasy 7 OST]
- Those Chosen by the Planet [Final Fantasy 7 OST]
DISCLAIMER: HELLSING IS OWNED BY KOUTA HIRANO. I DO NOT ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.
FIRE EMBLEM IS OWNED BY NINTENDO. I DON'T OWN IT'S CHARACTERS EITHER.
ITALICS=THOUGHTS, WRITING, EMPHASIS, AND SOUNDS
BOLD= DATES, PLACES, ECT.
BOLD ITALICS=WRITER
Western Ylisse (Themis Region) ~ The City of Democratos
December 9, Age 2609 (11:00 A.M.)
"Man! I can't remember the last time we were here!"
"Milady, please walk; you may trip if you're not careful."
"Aw, chill out, Frederick, I'll be fine!"
Lissa laughed innocently as she ran across the streets of Democratos. Frederick wandered behind her, eyes trained on the young princess like a hawk. Maribelle trailed behind the duo, snickering as she watched her oldest friend bounce down the street like a child.
"The day Lissa walks when she has energy to run is the day Naga descends upon Ylisse," Chrom laughed to himself.
After arriving in Democratos, the Shepherds swiftly went their own separate ways; they'd reconvene for dinner at Duke Marquis' manor. Between then and now, they were free to explore the city—enjoying some leisure time—before the feast, and before nightfall when they'd begin their hunt for the murderer. Chrom actually wanted to relax before the feast—the march had taken it's toll on the young prince—but he instead found himself being dragged across the city by his younger sister. He didn't mind, not too much; he wasn't the sort to get irritated missing out on alone time.
However, he was curious as to why the hell Gaius had decided to tag along.
(Play song ~ "Such bonds are the true strengths of this army" [Fire Emblem Awakening OST])
"You'd think she'd be bogged down by the bodice and dress…" Gaius muttered. "Look at her running like she's got no care in the world."
"I suppose a thief like you would know a lot about running," Maribelle scoffed, turning her nose away from the thief.
"Hey, I resent that remark…" Gaius sighed. "I've gone clean; got a job working for you Shepherds and everything."
"Hah, gone clean indeed!" Maribelle rolled her eyes. "Why do you insist on following me? Are you so determined to poison my day that you'll not leave me alone?"
"Hey, Twinkles, Walter's the one that said that you insisted on us being combat partners, and what not," Gaius defended.
"Yes, I insisted that I be allowed to watch you to ensure you do not flee the battlefield like the low born, cowardly, two-faced, miscreant you are!"
Chrom flinched at the scathing remark. He knew Maribelle was a firebrand, but he'd never seen her so… derisive. From the mildly shocked expression on Lissa's face, she'd never seen Maribelle so contemptuous either.
"Jeez… I'm just trying to watch your back, y'know," Gaius muttered, shrinking slightly under the hateful glare Maribelle was sending him.
"I'd sooner face the executioner's axe than let you watch my back!" Maribelle seethed. "If you wish to make yourself useful, so be it! Make yourself useful and get out of my sight!"
Gaius flinched.
"Alright, alright, I'll leave," the thief sighed as he slowly turned tail and began to walk away.
As the thief left, Chrom watched as the man seemed to hesitate with every step—even discreetly glancing over his shoulder towards Maribelle—muttering as he wandered past the prince.
"I told him she didn't want me around…" Chrom caught Gaius muttering before the man was fully out of earshot.
"Jeez, Maribelle… I know you don't like criminals and stuff, but that was far even by your standards," Lissa stared at her best friend, legitimately shocked by her behavior.
"I myself am not all too fond of Gaius, same as you, but even so I scarcely believe it appropriate to be so derisive," Frederick added.
"If you knew what that scoundrel did to my father and I, you'd share my opinion of him as well!" Maribelle snapped, causing Lissa to flinch back. Realizing what she'd just done, the troubadour took a calming breath before continuing.
"Forgive me my demeanor; it seems I lost myself to rage," Maribelle sighed.
"It's alright," Chrom assured for Lissa.
"Yeah, I mean, it's not the first time I've seen you rip into someone; I'm just wondering why you're ripping into Gaius of all guys," Lissa scratched the back of her head. "I mean—despite the fact he used to be a thief—he's actually a pretty decent guy, and I honestly can't imagine you hating him just because of what he was."
Maribelle shook her head at Lissa's words.
"Perhaps it's best that I enlighten you…" Maribelle began. "It was a few years ago before the Shepherds were formed. If you recall, a rather dreadful trial was had during which accusations were levied towards my father; accusations that he stole from the royal treasury."
"I recall that trial," Frederick nodded. "It wasn't pleasant, not in the slightest; the prosecutor was quite ferocious in his push for a guilty verdict. Duke Marquis barely escaped the executioner's axe for committing treason against the Halidom."
"Yes, it was quite a trying time for my family," Maribelle muttered. "I was… terrified of having to watch my father's head roll for a crime I knew he didn't commit; a crime he was only accused of due to the testimony of one man, the testimony of that scoundrel, Gaius," she spat.
"Wait, he testified as a witness against your father?" Chrom gasped.
The trial was quite a while back; before he was obligated to attend them with his sister, Emmeryn. He wasn't too familiar with the details, but he knew that the prosecution was centered around the testimony of a single witness. To think that Gaius was that witness, it truly was a small world they lived in.
"Yes, it was only because of a last-minute letter from an anonymous source that my father was found innocent of the act," Maribelle shook her head in disgust. "It was only after the trial did new evidence pointing to Gaius being the culprit behind the attempted theft of the treasury surface; by then, my father's reputation was already trod upon. It took years of labor for him to regain the standing he once had within the general public; he suffered because a low-born vagrant had not enough honor to confess to his own crime."
Maribelle seethed through her teeth. It was obvious to everyone present that there was not even an iota of care for the ginger-haired thief within the noble. That begged the question, why would Walter pair the two up in the first place? Chrom highly doubted the butler wasn't at all aware of any of this bad blood; he just didn't seem the type to not be aware of such a thing. Walter had apparently consulted Maribelle about the pair-up—in fact, Maribelle admitted to being the one that approached the butler—so why trust two people with such volatile history to safeguard each other's lives. He could've partnered anyone else with Maribelle—she and Ricken shared a rather close friendship—but he picked Gaius.
Why?
"Putting it like that, I can understand why you hate Gaius as much as you do," Chrom muttered understandingly. "Still, I don't think it'll do anyone any good if you refuse to even speak to the man. He did wrong you and your family—no one's denying that, probably not even Gaius—but maybe it's about time to bury the hatchet, right? If not for your sake—certainly not for Gaius'—but for everyone else? We all have a role to play, and we can't afford to have one person not cooperating. Maybe you should at least try to get along with him? I mean, your lives are in each other's hands after all."
Maribelle contemplated the prince's words for a moment before sighing.
"As I said to the scoundrel, I'll do what I can on the battlefield, but I'll not tolerate his presence off it," she seethed.
"I suppose that's the best we can expect from you at the moment," Chrom nodded in approval. "Still—given enough time—I think things between the two of you will mellow out. Who knows, you might actually begin to enjoy the guy's presence after a while," he joked. Maribelle's expression was a mixture of horror and disgust.
"Jeez, Chrom, you're starting to sound like Walter, y'know?" Lissa giggled.
"Am I?" the prince raised a brow.
"Perhaps not as eloquent, but to a certain degree, yes," Frederick smirked. "I approve of this change, perhaps you'll exercise more caution in the future."
"Hey, I'm perfectly cautious!" Chrom grumbled.
"On that, we disagree, milord," Frederick snarked, earning a chuckle from the rest of the group.
Mention of the butler made Chrom wonder what the man was up to at the moment.
Knowing him, he's probably working on some multi-layered plan of sorts… he mused as he trailed behind his sister and Frederick.
(Song ends here)
Southern Ylisse (Theia Region) ~ The city of Southtown
December 9, Age 2609 (11:25 A.M.)
"So, you want me to retire early, build a modest cottage on the countryside, and spend the rest of my days in mundanity?"
"Are you implying last night was mundane?"
"No…"
"Then no, I expect you to retire early, build a modest cottage on the countryside, and spend the rest of your days with me..."
"Hmm… when worded like that, I suppose that sort of life doesn't sound all too bad-"
"…and two children."
"There's the stinger I was expecting."
"Is that a yes?"
"Well… it's not a no…"
"Satisfactory for now…"
Walter's eyes shot open as he woke abruptly from his slumber. With labored breaths, his eyes darted around as he confirmed his surroundings; he was lying in a bed at the inn he and the other Shepherds were staying at currently. He sat up, sweat caking his pale skin, some strands of his silky hair clinging to his face.
"You alright?"
Walter turned to see Cordelia standing by the door to the room. She was watching him with concerned eyes. The butler eyed the clock hanging on the wall.
"Not long before noon," he muttered before refocusing on Cordelia. "Shouldn't you be out and about at this time?"
"Dodging the question, I see…" Cordelia resisted rolling her eyes. "The others wished to prepare for the upcoming battle. I saw fit to remain here and wait for you to wake up. I didn't want you to wonder where everyone went, sir," she finished.
"Oh… I see…" Walter cleared his throat. "Thank you, Cordelia; I appreciate it."
"Of course, sir."
"Please…" Walter scoffed. "How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Walter?"
Cordelia blushed.
"Forgive me… I… can't help it; it's the soldier in me, I suppose," she laughed sheepishly.
"It's alright…" the butler assured. "Just keep it in mind next time."
Cordelia nodded silently. Everything swiftly grew quiet afterwards; an awkward silence pervading the room. Walter stared at the Pegasus Knight expectantly; Cordelia, for the life of her, couldn't figure out why. Walter knit his brows as he gestured towards the door. Cordelia blinked in confusion.
"You do realize that I have to get changed," Walter said wryly.
"OH!" Cordelia stiffened like a brick—cheeks blazing red. Now that he mentioned it, the butler was indeed still wearing his sleepwear…
…which amounted to only a pair of loose quilted pants and no shirt.
Suddenly, Cordelia became hyper aware of the ruggedness of Walter's long locks and the creases and curves of his shredded torso; the type of masculine detail that came straight out of those raunchy novels she and Sumia secretly enjoyed.
"FORGIVE ME!" her hand shot up to cover eyes as she made for the door, only to walk into it. With a grunt, she recoiled.
"I- I'll be waiting outside," she said—this time a little more quietly—as she promptly opened the door and unceremoniously slammed it shut.
Walter chuckled to himself, shaking his head in amusement.
"Interesting response…" he smirked as he rummaged through his belongings.
He was quick to discard his quilted pajama pants, grabbing a new pair of boxers and a pair of black slacks. Slipping into both, he then decided on which dress shirt he'd go with—A black shirt with faint pinstripes. Buttoning it up, he tucked the excess into his pants before grabbing a typical back leather belt and slipping it around the waistline of his pants. He went with a black tie and—feeling like changing things up slightly—tied it into a four-in-hand knot instead of a windsor or half windsor. Over his shirt and tie, he went for a five-button black waistcoat. He then slipped on a pair of socks before sliding into a pair of glossy dress shoes. He then swiped a black crombie coat from his luggage and threw it on before slipping on a pair of black leather gloves.
Grabbing a comb, he carefully ran it through his silky locks and unknotted whatever strands were stuck together. When his hair was finally back swept, he swiped a red chord from atop an end table and used it to tie his hair into a low ponytail. A few strands were loose from the tie, but he didn't mind them—he always did enjoy looking mildly rugged in that regard.
"Acceptable…" he muttered as he eyed himself in a mirror. He then proceeded to leave the room.
Descending from the guest suites to the lobby, he shot the inn keeper a kind smile as he left out the door. Cordelia was waiting right outside.
"Where's everyone else?" the butler inquired. Cordelia, having regained her composure, gestured down the street.
"Probably having lunch at the local tavern by now," she replied dutifully. Walter hummed enthusiastically.
"Well then, perhaps we should join them," he strode past the rose-haired Pegasus knight. Cordelia was quick to fall in stride behind him.
He and the Shepherds had arrived at Southtown late last night. Having marched practically all day yesterday, the butler arranged their accommodations with the best inn he could find; all covered by House Ylisse. In fact, the entire trip itself was going to paid for by Emmeryn—though it was up to Walter keep everything in the budget. It was a modest budget they were given—far more lenient than Walter would've granted—and it was enough that the Shepherds could afford some commodities this time around.
"It's been some time since I was last here," Walter said as he glanced from building to building. He was naturally pleased to see all the damage that occurred during the brigand raid had been repaired.
"Been here before?" Cordelia inquired. Walter nodded.
"Yes, it's where I met Chrom. The town was under attack by Plegian brigands. Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick had only just met me on the city outskirts when we saw a pillar of smoke coming from here. Naturally, the trio leapt into action, leaving me behind," Walter smiled nostalgically. "I felt the urge to join them in their little crusade and ended up being recruited into the Shepherds after thoroughly impressing the lot."
"Is that how it went?" Cordelia tilted her head in interest.
"Omitting a few minor details, yes," Walter confirmed. "Just felt like mentioning it is all; how about you, have you ever visited Southtown before?"
"No, I actually haven't spent much time in the Theia region of Ylisse," Cordelia moved to walk beside the butler. "I was born in the capital and attended the Pegasus Knight Academy as soon as I was able. Since I was assigned to the west—I was specifically assigned to Ylisse's 23rd division, which operated along the Ylisse-Plegia Border—I spent most of my time in Themis and Coeus. Very rarely have I been to the Theia region and I haven't ever stepped foot in the Oceanus and Tethys regions."
"Is that so?" Walter glanced at Cordelia. "Would it shock you to know that I haven't been to Oceanus or Tethys either? In fact, I haven't been to the Coeus region, and I've spent little to no time in Themis as well."
"Really?" Cordelia's eyes widened. "So, you've stuck mostly to Central Ylisse?"
"Ylisstol is the only city that I've spent more than a day or two in; never been anywhere else," Walter replied. "Thinking about it, I'm fairly certain I've spent more time in both Regna Ferox and Plegia INDIVIDUALLY than I have in all of Ylisse's dukedoms COMBINED."
"Huh… that is a surprise…" Cordelia hummed. "Well, perhaps the next time we're in Themis or Coeus, I can give you a grand tour," she smiled.
"Probably Coeus, because I'm fairly certain that Maribelle would want to give me a grand tour of Themis herself. After all. It is her home," Walter chuckled.
"Of course," Cordelia nodded with a grin.
Walter returned the smile. He and Cordelia hadn't interacted much—not since that conversation they had several months back before the 'Exalt Rescue Mission'—and he'd honestly thought things would be a slight bit more awkward. He was quite glad to be proven wrong; the two exchanged casual banter as they wandered through the streets of Southtown until they reached a musty old tavern minutes later.
"Vaike picked where we were going to eat, didn't he?" Walter let out an amused scoff.
"That man aggravates me…" Cordelia muttered, all but confirming Walter's suspicion.
"I find him somewhat charming in his own way," Walter smiled jovially. "Once you get used to him, 'Ol' Teach' grows on you."
Cordelia shook her head.
"I don't understand why you paired me with that oaf, of all people," she sighed dejectedly. Walter stared at her before shaking his head in disproval.
"Go easy on the man; he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's not some mindless oaf either…" the butler chided. "I mean, I heard he actually saved you during that battle at the Midmire."
Cordelia looked down.
"Yes… that's true…" she confirmed. "My Pegasus took an arrow to it's wing and went down. I broke my leg as a result and was swiftly surrounded."
"And Vaike swooped in and saved you at last second," Walter recounted. "I know the tale, Vaike does enjoy boasting about it every now and then; it's one of his favorite feats to regale others of," the butler chuckled.
"The day he—the street urchin turned warrior—saved the gifted and BEAUTIFUL Cordelia from at least ten soldiers; done so in poor enough weather that he had nearly zero visibility," he continued. "Quite impressive, all things considered; why everyone—yourself included—look down on him is a mystery I'll never solve."
"It's not his combat ability that's in question," Cordelia shook her head, sighing once more. "Even I admit that he's better at fighting than I gave him credit for; I've seen enough matches between him and Prince Chrom that have ended in stalemate to convince me of this fact. He's skilled, shockingly so…" she trailed off, frowning.
"It's everything else about him that bothers me," the rose-haired woman continued. "From his blasé attitude to his obnoxious character; I don't think I've ever met someone so far from being an ideal knight, let alone man…" she grumbled.
Walter stared at her.
"By what standard are you measuring him?" his brow furrowed disapprovingly. "He's not an ideal knight, but I don't think that's exactly fair—he's not even trying to be one—and to say he's even further from being an ideal man is rather presumptuous. Maybe by your standards he's lamentably incompetent, but have you ever stopped to consider that your standards are too high?"
"My standards are NOT high," Cordelia glowered, her cheeks burning red. Walter scoffed.
"Alright, then tell me: out of all the men in the Shepherds, how many of us meet your standards of what you think a man should be?" Walter crossed his arms over his chest and waited for a response.
"That's easy," Cordelia met the butler's challenging look with her own. "There's Chrom, you…" she paused. Walter raised a brow, corner of his mouth rising upwards.
"Go on…"
"There's…" Cordelia sputtered. "Well, Frederick is certainly ideal… maybe Lon'qu…"
"Maybe Lon'qu?" Walter repeated, incredulous. "Have you ever even thought about the standards you place on others? You don't even know who meets them and who doesn't; that's not exactly a good sign."
"I do, a good man ought to be honourable, intelligent, and reliable," Cordelia listed off easily, smiling triumphantly as she did. Walter didn't look amused.
"Alright, how about instead of reading off the opening to some idealistic help guide on what to look for in a husband, how about you come back down to earth and try to see for yourself that there's more to people than honour and intelligence. I can agree good people are the kind that you can rely on, but the rest is superfluous and entirely subjective," Walter politely berated. "In fact, if you want my opinion, I think Vaike is just as honourable as Chrom; in some aspects, even more so. In terms of intelligence, he may not be as book smart as myself but he's certainly intelligent in other ways."
Cordelia stared at Walter, baffled.
"You can't be… you seriously think all that?" she quietly asked. Walter nodded.
"I can assure you, there's more to him than you think," he smirked. "Just give him a chance; I can assure you that he'll surprise you."
Cordelia pondered the butler's words. Maybe she was being too hard on the warrior. Perhaps she should start giving him the benefit of the doubt; after all, it was obvious that Walter wasn't going to reorganize the Shepherd's battle partner system again; at least, not anytime soon. She might as well learn to enjoy the warrior's presence rather than detest it; it'd probably be much easier in the long run.
Yeah, she'd give Vaike the benefit of the doubt. What's the worst that could happen?
"WATCH OUT!"
Walter quickly stepped out of the way of an airborne Vaike, narrowly avoiding being thrown onto the ground. Cordelia, unfortunately, didn't react in time, and was forcibly knocked back; Vaike unceremoniously landing on top of her with a loud thud.
"That'll teach you to spill water on my face!" Sully yelled, face—true to her word—soaked, as she approached the downed duo.
"It was an accident… I swear…" Vaike groaned—continuing to lay atop Cordelia like a sack of potatoes.
Walter pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Just when I might've convinced Cordelia to give you the benefit of the doubt…" he muttered as he walked into the tavern, leaving Vaike to deal with not just an angered Sully, but a—more likely than not—angered Cordelia.
Western Ylisse (Themis Region) ~ The City of Democratos
December 9, Age 2609 (1:10 P.M.)
"Why do I even bother…?"
Kellam was having a pretty crummy day all things considered. First, some of the blisters on his feet painfully burst after the strenuous amount of marching the Shepherds had done. Second, he ended up being mistaken for a misplaced suit of armor in Duke Marquis' manor, causing an overzealous maid to dust his face on accident. Third, no one noticed that he'd brought everyone water at lunch, and—once again—assumed it was the work of spirits and/or ghosts.
He clenched his mouth shut, gritting his teeth, as he limped forward; his bandaged foot overly uncomfortable even after Lissa treated his punctured blisters.
How could today get any worse?
"Halt!"
Kellam turned around, avoiding turning on his heels as not to irritate his bad foot.
"I've finally found you…"
Kellam nearly jumped when he felt someone latch onto his arm. Looking down, he was greeted with the top of a pointed mage hat.
"Miriel?" the tall knight raised a brow.
"Salutations," the studious mage greeted as she met his gaze whilst straightening her glasses. "I've managed to successfully locate you; it's truly impressive how effortlessly you hide amongst the crowds."
"Er… I guess…" Kellam replied sheepishly. Great, just what he needed; the overly verbose Miriel.
"Could you… er… please let go of my arm?" he asked.
"Nay, I cannot," Miriel replied simply, staring at him intensely.
"Uh… any reason as to why?" Kellam scratched the back of his head with his free hand.
"Walter requested I observe you," Miriel answered. "It was his desire that I attempt to ascertain the secret to your remarkable ability to vanish into nothing; according to him, careful observation might possibly yield the solution to reversing your odd predicament."
Kellam's eyes widened.
"Wait, Walter put you up to this?"
"Yes, he was quite adamant that I observe you," Miriel nodded. "According to the Grandmaster, he is too inundated with other matters to attempt to resolve this perceived issue himself, so he's tasked me with doing so in his stead. He hopes that I will be able to—as he stated to me—'give you a presence'," she straightened her glasses once more. Kellam felt a pang in his chest.
"S-so, he really didn't forget…?" he muttered with a small smile.
He was beginning to lose hope. Walter was the only one that seemed able to see him, and the butler had promised to help him with his predicament months ago. Kellam knew that the butler was a busy man though, so he never really pressed the issue. Still, as time went by, and Walter seemed to become more and more burdened by work, Kellam felt less and less sure that the butler would find the time to help; let alone even remember the promise he made. It was comforting to know he hadn't forgotten about him.
"Okay, I'm glad that you're here to try to figure this thing out, but…" Kellam stared at the mage. "Do you have to cling to me like this?"
Kellam felt his cheeks burn as he and Miriel garnered stares from many a passerby; most likely misreading the two of them.
"Of course! Being able to properly observe you is critical to assembling a logical hypothesis on the causes of your strange ailment; though 'ailment' is perhaps not the term I personally would use to describe it. Ability would perhaps be a more apt descriptor," Miriel explained. "As to why I chose to cling to you, I cannot take my eyes off you for even a moment for as soon as my eyes wander away, you seemingly vanish into thin air akin to a phantasm of sorts."
"I… see…" Kellam swallowed, glancing away from the studious mage.
"Is that a modicum of discomfort I hear in your tone?"
"N-no!" Kellam was quick to exclaim. "It's just that… uh… you see…"
"Do go on…" Miriel watched him expectantly.
"I… er… I'm not used to talking to people that are… well… this close to me…" the tall knight explained. Miriel straightened her glasses, the light reflecting off them completely obscuring her eyes.
"That's perfectly acceptable, neither am I," she replied simply; proceeding to press up closer to Kellam, completely contradicting herself. Kellam felt his throat go dry.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he raised a brow, flustered.
"I can assure you with one-hundred percent veracity that I do not 'joke' about research," Miriel answered.
Kellam blanched.
"On second thought, I think I'll ask Walter if he could get someone else to help me out…" he sighed, attempting to pull his arm away from the overly serious mage. To his surprise, the smaller woman had a shockingly strong hold on him.
"Truthfully, I was the second choice our Grandmaster had when it came to aiding you with your trouble," Miriel revealed. "I am quite uncertain as to whether or not there's a third choice beyond myself."
Kellam stared at Miriel curiously.
"Really? Who was Walter's first choice?" Kellam inquired.
For a fraction of a second, the knight swore he saw a small glimmer of mischief in the eyes of the usually stoic mage.
"The Grandmaster's first choice was in fact the dark mage, Tharja," she said in an even tone. "However, Walter became rather dubious of her methods; fearing that she would employ some more… unsavory procedures in order to determine the cause to your lack of presence."
Kellam felt a chill run down his spine.
"In that case, maybe I'll stick with you helping me instead," Kellam muttered with a shiver. He didn't want to know what Tharja might've done if she was allowed to experiment on him.
Probably turn him into a newt or something.
"Very good!" Miriel smiled, looking immensely pleased for some reason. "Now, we can begin testing in earnest."
The mage suddenly pulled out a note pad and quill—whose tip had somehow been lathered in ink.
"To begin, I must ask you to depart from my presence," she asked.
"Depart?" Kellam raised a brow. "Wasn't the point of you clinging to me to make sure you DON'T lose track of me?"
"Indeed, but now I require a demonstration of your strange ability; an exhibition that I may observe and note," Miriel explained.
"So, you want me to leave?"
"Yes," Miriel nodded—watching him closely—notepad and quill in hand. "Vanish. Evaporate. Dematerialize."
"Alright…" Kellam scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "See you in a bit… I guess…"
Kellam took one step away, and immediately Miriel seemingly lost track of him; completely unable to relocate him.
"Extraordinary…" Miriel muttered, her hand a blur as she scribbled notes on her notepad. "Simply fascinating…"
Kellam sighed. If this were how he was going to regain his 'presence', maybe it'd be worth suffering through… whatever Miriel was planning. Even though he wanted to walk away from the mage, he stayed in place.
"Glad Walter didn't forget…" the knight muttered to himself, smiling slightly.
At the very least…
Kellam watched as Miriel stopped writing and began—desperately almost—looking for him once more.
…there was one more person in the world actively looking out for him.
Southern Ylisse (Theia Region) ~ Outside Southtown
December 9, Age 2609 (2:21 P.M.)
"That's the last of them, right?"
"Yep, definitely no more Risen to deal with."
"Good," Walter wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead as he stood in the middle of a ring of disintegrating Risen carcasses.
The battle with the Risen was nothing to write home about. There were fifty or so gathered up east of Southtown—just as was reported—and they were all marching down the road towards the settlement. To gain an advantage, Walter positioned himself and his Shepherds on a small hill—whose incline rose a good one-hundred feet above sea level before leveling out—and had Ricken and Tharja rain magic down upon the Risen from their vantage point. He also had Nowi fly around in her manakete form and blast emerald flames onto the undead.
Overall, it was so uneventful that Walter questioned why the duchess sent a formal request for back-up in the first place.
"Seriously, that was pretty lame…" Vaike muttered as he pulled his axe out from the skull of a Risen. "Barely broke a sweat…"
"Same…" Sully cleaned her blade of blood before sheathing it. "Honestly, I was expecting something more exciting."
"I didn't even need to participate," Virion added.
"Well, not every battle is one to remember," Gregor chimed in.
"Too true…" Lon'qu nodded, sneering as he watched a Risen berserker disintegrate. "What now?" he asked, turning towards Walter. The butler removed his fingerless gloves, replacing them with some warm fur lined leather ones, before replying.
"We return to Southtown and prepare to depart for the capital," Walter said simply. "We have to report this to the Exalt."
"Already?" Nowi groaned, lying back in the grass. "We barely just got here and now we have to leave? LAME!"
"Lame or not, we've got a job to do," Ricken sighed. Nowi puffed up her cheeks.
"You're all a bunch a sticks in the mud; too much work and no play is no good for anyone!" she complained.
"Watch your tongue…" Tharja glared at the manakete. "The sooner we return to Ylisstol, the sooner I can resume my experiments…" she snickered darkly.
"You really ought not dabble in the dark arts as much as you are…" Libra chided. Tharja scoffed.
"Preach to me all you want; it's not going to change a thing…" she scorned. Libra could only shake his head and sigh.
"Let's not start an argument," Walter stepped between the two. "Alright, I doubt Nowi's the only one that wants to stay one more night in Southtown, so how about we leave it up to a vote? How many of you would rather we stay and rest one more night before departing for the capital?"
Slowly, Vaike, Nowi, Ricken, Donnel, Gregor, Virion, and Libra's hands all rose.
"Well, that settles it, the majority has spoken," Walter shoved his hands in his pockets. "Alright, let's wrap things up here and head back to town. We'll meet up at the inn around six o' clock for dinner, okay?"
"Yes sir!"
With that, they slowly began to trek back towards Southtown. Walter—contrary to how he was normally—marched at the back of the group as opposed to the front for once; the butler was less focused on the march back and more so on the ease of the battle. It was too… easy, and that made Walter anxious.
Why? he brooded. Those Risen were as insignificant as ghouls without a vampire to command them; the Shepherds were NOT needed to repel such a trivial offensive. Perhaps the reports Emmeryn were given were exaggerated; I say 'perhaps', but it would be more accurate to say, 'most definitely'. Maybe the duchess wanted to leave no room for chance—regardless of how insignificant the threat was—and simply summoned us here to ensure victory was assured; I can respect wishing to avoid unnecessary risks. However, forcing a split in the Shepherds' for what can only be described as, 'a complete waste of military assets' is aggravating.
Walter sighed as he pondered over the situation. Admittedly, there was a chance he was overthinking things—it wouldn't surprise him if he were. However, it would surprise him even less if his suspicions bore fruit. It all smelled far too fishy for his liking.
"Hey Walter?"
The gentle nudge of his clothes brought Walter out of his thoughts quickly. The butler glanced down to see Nowi looking up at him with—what could only be described as—the largest set of puppy dog eyes he'd seen since Integra in her youth.
"Yes?"
Nowi smiled a wide grin.
"Well, me and Ricken wanted to go around the town to see what kinda stuff there is to see, and I wanted to know if we could borrow some money," she asked quickly. Walter blinked.
"Er… pray tell, why can't you pay for yourselves? I mean, you—along with the rest of the Shepherds—were granted considerable raises in your salaries recently…" the butler reminded. The Shepherds were at the forefront of the Ylisse-Plegia war and they were all compensated accordingly as a result.
"Eh? Er, you see…" Nowi glanced off to the sheepishly. "I kinda… maybe on accident… mighta spent a lotta it on… er… sweets…"
Walter blinked again.
"Sweets?" he parroted.
"Yup…" Nowi nodded.
"Oh…" Walter sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he weighed his options.
"Whatever am I going to do with you…?" the butler shook his head, before smirking warmly. "Alright…"
Walter reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a decent sized coin pouch. The coins inside clinked loudly as he opened it up, pulled out a small handful of coins, and handed Nowi the pouch.
"Don't spend it all in one place, least of all on sweets," Walter patted the manakete on the head as he pocketed the coins he took from the pouch for himself. "I also expect you to return whatever is left over, alright?"
"Yessiree!" Nowi beamed as she ran ahead of Walter back into town where Ricken was waiting for her. "Hey Ricken! Let's go check out the…"
Walter could only continue to smile as Nowi's voice faded as she disappeared into the crowds of people. It only hit the butler seconds later that he'd wandered all the way to Southtown without realizing it.
"Can't remember that last time I was so engrossed in thought…" the butler muttered embarrassedly. "Alucard would most definitely ridicule me for being so… absentminded…"
Walter shrugged. His mind was rather clouded as of late. From dreams about… his past, to reminders of wounds long healed, the Guardian Angel felt anything but normal. Perhaps he was overworked—too much stress and too little relaxation—and he was finally feeling the burn. Yeah, maybe he needed some time to go on holiday.
The Winter Festival is coming up anyway, and I doubt anyone would object to me taking a week or two vacation, he mused. Perhaps I should look into popular tourist destinations of Ylisse; see if there's anything that interests me… and Lucina, of course.
Walter smiled as he imagined the blunette's reaction to him announcing that the two of them were going on vacation somewhere. The thought of her beaming like a child on Christmas Eve made his heart skip a beat.
"She deserves to experience the pleasures she missed out on…" Walter muttered under his breath.
"And you'll be the one to give them to her?"
Walter's spine chilled to the bone. His heart would've leapt out of his chest if it hadn't had stopped. Suddenly, the cool winter air felt all the more frigid to the butler. The muscles in his legs tightened, his arms tensed. He was frozen in place, not for any reason other than pure shock.
(Play Song ~ Zero Mortal Plan [Dragon Ball Super OST])
He knew that voice.
"Did I surprise you?" the man behind him chuckled, his accent all too recognizable. "I do hope I did; you've no idea how much I've dreamed of this moment these past months…"
Walter inhaled sharply as he felt frigid breath against the nape of his neck, the man leaning in close to him.
"This moment, this reunion, where 'creator' and 'creation' meet once more…"
Walter snapped out of his stupor and turned swiftly, swinging his fist behind him…
…only to hit thin air.
"What…?" Walter murmured; his eyes widened. "I… could've sworn… I definitely heard…"
"Heard what?"
Walter turned around again, only to see nothing once more.
"Do calm down, Walter; you realize that you're causing a scene?" the voice mocked.
Walter hyperventilated, eyeing his surroundings. Indeed, true to the man's word, many a passerby were watching him as they wandered the streets.
"Café to your right," the voice said.
Walter glanced to the right to see said café. Several tables were set up outside, all of them occupied. The butler felt his heart sink as his eyes fell on one individual sitting at a table by himself, an empty chair waiting across from him. Walter's jaw clenched as he summoned up his resolve.
Wandering forward, the butler made his way to the empty chair across from the lone man. Acting natural, Walter kept his wits about him even as he reached the table. He glared daggers at the man sitting down, sipping coffee as if everything were fine.
As if Walter hadn't had killed him.
"Guten abend, Walter," the man greeted, a grin plastered across his pale face.
"Guten abend… Herr Doktor…" Walter greeted tensely.
The mad scientist was exactly how he remembered him to be: white lab coat permanently stained with blood, attire that could be mistaken for a gimp suit, predatory grin that could rival his own, golden locks framing a pale corpse-like face, eyes obscured by his multi-lensed spectacles; Doctor Avondale Napyeer, the head scientist behind the artificial vampires…
…the man that turned him into a vampire.
The man's smile calmed slightly, becoming one that could almost be mistaken for friendly had Walter not known what the man was capable of; what he'd done.
Play along, Walter told himself, eyeing his surroundings. Indeed, it was far too public a place for either of them to make a move. Then again, he hardly thought that the mad scientist would care about collateral damage. Still, he couldn't risk a confrontation, at least not now.
Pulling up the chair across from the doctor, Walter sat down. He kept his eyes trained on the mad scientist, unwilling to look away for even a fraction of a millisecond.
"You're so tense, my boy; there's really no need to be so wary," Avondale smirked as he took a sip from his mug. "This cafe has such wonderful coffee; you really must try some."
"How're you alive?" Walter demanded immediately. The scientist seemed unperturbed by his harsh tone, only chuckling as he lowered his mug.
"Alive is perhaps not the correct way to describe what I am at the moment," he replied simply. "After all, one doesn't simply recover from being crushed by several tons of steel, correct?"
Walter held back the urge to laugh.
"I certainly did," he bit back.
"Perhaps…" Avondale hummed. "Recovered and thriving even; I'm certainly impressed with the progress you've made. You have become the perfected specimen that I always hoped to create; a vampire that would shame even the 'mighty' Alucard."
"No thanks to you, 'Herr Doktor'…" Walter spat. "Your botched process did me no favors, even when I reverted back into my human form. Your work is still as much of a farce as it was when you turned me; as much as a farce as it was fifty years ago," the butler barbed.
"Science is a process—an art—my dear, Walter. Perfection is hardly stumbled upon on the first attempt, regardless of how genius I am," Avondale countered. "Regardless of the failure of the initial transformation, you've managed to not only stabilize what was once a critically unstable form but have also taken your powers to new heights; this is much more than I could ever hope for. Tell me, how exactly did you stabilize the form?" the scientist's smile widened as he took another sip of his coffee. Walter scoffed, smirking.
"Would you believe me if I told you I have no idea?" the butler replied. Avondale paused.
"Is that so?" he pursed his lips. "That is surprising; I initially hypothesized that your body would last no longer than a day—two at most—as you burned through more and more of your body's life essence. You can imagine my surprise when I saw that you had not only reassumed the transformation into a vampire but were able to hold the form. Truly, there are things that even a genius like me cannot anticipate."
"Like several hundred pounds of steel being dropped onto you," Walter smiled knowingly. "Speaking of which, explain to me why I shouldn't kill you here and now; witnesses to the scene be damned?"
Herr Doktor chuckled as he shook his head.
"Because you'd be arrested immediately," he answered. Walter scoffed.
"Not with the Exalt and Prince of Ylisse vouching for me," the butler said coolly. To Walter's surprise, the German scientist laughed even more.
"Do you really think that this county's pathetic excuse for leadership could save you from itself?" Avondale finished his coffee before interlocking his fingers. "The word of the Exalt would mean nothing in the face of the bureaucrats that despise you. You really think there aren't panthers in the trees waiting to pounce on the chance to ruin you?"
Walter tensed. The butler wanted to fire back, to say that the words of a couple people wouldn't outweigh the word of his friends, but…
"You are an anomaly, a being that most cannot even hope to understand; your power induces fear in those that desire to control. Even those closest to you fear you to a certain extent…" the doctor continued, resting his chin on his interlocked hands, his smile a twisted panorama. "The man with no history, no true allegiance, with the power to level entire armies; do you really think—with complete certainty—that your so called 'friends' aren't afraid of what you could potentially do?"
Walter's eyes narrowed into thin slits.
"Don't you dare accuse them of being so narrow minded," he growled, baring his fangs. "I trust them with my life, as they trust me with theirs. They'd never be so cruel as to turn their backs on me."
Avondale knit his eyebrows together, pursing his lips.
"Perhaps…" he admitted before his twisted grin returned. "…but do they know the true history of the man they call, 'Guardian Angel'?"
Walter clenched his jaw shut, his muscles stiffening.
"Do they know of the man who sold his country, his friends, his loyalty—everything any good man would value above themselves—for selfish ambition? For revenge? To sate a decades old grudge? Do they?"
Walter didn't respond.
"I'll take your silence as a no…" Avondale chuckled. "For all your talk of trust, you truly don't trust anyone at all. Your allies have opened themselves up to you, yet you continue to be an enigma to them; that's hardly something you do to those you trust. Even that princess—that Lucina girl—you claim to love doesn't even know a fraction of your story."
"She knows enough," Walter nearly snapped. The doctor scoffed.
"Really? Perhaps in your mind she does. True, she knows about your betrayal of Hellsing, and has purposefully chosen to look past that, but she doesn't know much beyond that," Avondale hummed. "So many secrets behind those steely eyes of yours, Walter; so many secrets that you haven't told the woman you claim to trust and love," he clicked his teeth in mock disapproval.
"Does she know of the hundreds of women you took to bed? Of the women you told you loved that you viewed as nothing more than disposable pleasures? Of the many women you seduced only to murder for 'queen and country'? Of the many women you failed to save?" Avondale paused his barbs to deliver one final blow.
"Of the fact she will never EVER replace the woman whose death sparked your desire for vengeance…"
"SHUT UP!" Walter snapped, hand launching forward to wrap itself around the doctor's neck. To his shock, his fingers gripped nothing but air as his hand phased through Herr Doktor like a phantom. Avondale chuckled as he sat passively in his chair, in spite of the stares the duo was now garnering.
"Nothing to see here, ladies and gentlemen," Herr Docktor assured the onlookers. "Nothing more than a friendly disagreement."
The words of the scientist seemed to satisfy the other patrons—everyone returning their attention to whatever they were doing prior. Walter's attention, however, remained razor focused on his enemy.
"What are you?" the butler asked slowly. Avondale snickered.
"I'm not something you can simply cut down, I'm afraid," he hummed jovially. "I am dead, but also not dead; I am alive but also not alive. I am as corporeal as can be, but incorporeal like mist. I am beyond physical, but before spiritual. What I am is something you could never hope to destroy."
"Enough with the riddles; tell me what you are…" Walter clenched his fists so tight that he nearly drew his own blood.
"Now where would the fun in telling you be? I'd much rather leave you guessing—struggling to deduce what exactly I am. Things are much more interesting when there's a mystery to be solved, anyway…" the scientist taunted. "For example, I myself am still trying to ascertain how I followed you to this strange land. Perhaps my soul clung to you as you traveled to this place, fueled by my desire for revenge."
"I've watched you since the very beginning of this farcical journey of yours. Every loss and defeat, every achievement and victory, I have seen every single one. I know everything that you know, and everything that you do not."
Walter's blood boiled.
"What are you planning?" he asked through grit teeth. Avondale laughed.
"Planning? What use is there for planning when everything has already been set in motion?" he sneered. "Who do you think orchestrated the events that would separate you from the prince?"
Walter's heated blood froze instantly.
(Replace song with ~ Desperate Assault [Dragon Ball Super OST])
Without a second's hesitation, Walter bolted out of his seat; public space be damned. In that instant, Herr Doktor seemed to vanish into thin air. Walter could care less about what the mad man had become—what strange power allowed the dead scientist to vanish—because he had better things to worry about.
"Run, run, little Walter…" Avondale's voice mocked in Walter's head. "Run, run, in the palm of my hand…"
Walter ignored it, running as fast as he could. He had to warn Chrom; no, he had to get to Chrom immediately. He had to protect him no matter what. As he darted down the street, coat billowing behind him, he garnered the attention of one tinpot wearing farmer turned butler's apprentice.
"What's wrong sir?!" Donnel yelled behind the frazzled Guardian Angel. He struggled to keep pace with the artificial vampire.
"No time to explain; Chrom might be in terrible danger," Walter said quickly, pushing past a crowd of people.
"Danger? How do you-"
"An old enemy," Walter cut Donnel off. "An old enemy of mine is… I don't know, seeking revenge on me."
Donnel processed the information quickly.
"Should I go gather up the rest of 'em Shepherds?"
"No time, none of you can keep pace with me; as a group, it may take a week to get to Democratos," Walter explained. "If I travel at full-speed—without rest—I can make it there in a fraction of the time; in about three days, give or take."
"But sir-"
"No buts!" Walter cut the boy off once more. "You lot are to report back to the capital immediately; Donnel, take everyone back to Ylisstol and tell Emmeryn that there's more to this situation than meets the eye. Tell her that I'll explain everything when I get back."
Donnel swallowed. Walter was basically leaving him in charge.
"I- I understand, sir," Donnel replied dutifully. "I'll tell her everything!"
Walter smiled.
"That's a good lad," the butler nodded as they approached the town's exit. "I'll see you later, alright? Let's hope that I'm not too late…"
With those final words, Walter summoned up his stamina and dashed away at his full speed, the Guardian Angel of Ylisse becoming nothing but a black blur traveling across the land. Donnel gave up chase quickly after, catching his breath. Watching his master leave for Democratos, the young farmhand turned Shepherd sent a silent prayer to Naga that things turn out alright. However, as his gaze was far too focused on the retreating Walter, he failed to notice Herr Doktor watching the same scene from afar.
"Right into my hand…" Avondale smiled, vanishing into thin air once more.
"Now to deal with the princess…"
(Song ends here)
Western Ylisse (Themis Region) ~ The City of Democratos
December 9, Age 2609 (6:23 P.M.)
"Where are your manners!? This is a formal celebration, not some degenerate laden tavern!" Maribelle seethed as she smacked the back of Stahl's head.
"Yeowch! Sorry, sorry! The food's just REALLY good, and I'm REALLY hungry!" the mud-haired cavalier rubbed the back of his head. Maribelle scoffed.
"Of course the food is 'good', would you expect anything less from my father's cooks? Quite proudly, my home happens to boast some of the finest cooks outside of the capital," the noblewoman boasted. "You'll find no better cuisine elsewhere."
Lissa took a nibble out of a turkey drumstick and shrugged.
"I dunno… I still think Walter's got your cooks beat; he can make something like bear taste good," the princess commented.
"That's why I prefaced my statement with 'outside the capital'," Maribelle harrumphed. "How that man is so multi-talented, I shall never know…"
Chrom smirked as he began to dig into his meal.
As per Duke Marquis' instruction, a welcoming feast was had for the Shepherds within his own manor. Akin to the grand celebration that was had after the war with Plegia, the feast was open to the public—though guards were posted at every entrance and at every corner. Having the celebration be a public affair was reckless—even if all armaments were confiscated at the gate—however, Chrom couldn't fault the duke for making it one. It seemed less a method of welcoming the Shepherds to his domain and more a method of assuring the general public that everything would be fine from then on. After all, what greater relief was there than knowing that your country's arguable best was sent to protect your city? This was backed up by the fact that the Shepherds tables were all placed at the center of the banquet hall; strategically placed so that all could see them.
"Away with you, man spawn! I am not some exhibit to observe!"
Chrom flinched at the sudden exclamation. The prince glanced over at the other table to see Panne angrily chasing away a few overly curious children. He sighed as he made a move to stand.
"Hey, lemme take care of this, captain; she's MY combat partner, after all," Stahl smiled sheepishly as he took his food to the other table, sitting himself beside the irate taguel.
Chrom returned his attention to his meal, but also kept his eyes on Panne and Stahl. The captain of the Shepherds lamented the fact that he himself hadn't taken the time to address Panne's less than approachable demeanor—it had less to do with the fact that he had his own duties to worry about, and more to do with negligence. He could recognize why Walter probably paired her with Stahl—unlike Gaius and Maribelle, which remained an ever-present mystery—as the cavalier's overall friendly demeanor could melt all but the iciest of hearts. Still, the prince had his doubts.
Chrom winced when he saw Stahl forcefully spoon feed a potato from his own plate into Panne's mouth. The less than enthused expression, followed by disgusted coughing up of food, made Chrom all the more doubtful. Unenthused quickly melted into absolutely irate as the taguel looked ready to tear into the cavalier's face. Chrom was once again about to stand when Stahl quickly offered her a spoonful of diced carrots instead. The taguel's expression morphed from one of anger to one of dispassionate curiosity. Panne hesitantly opened her mouth to be fed, Stahl cautiously feeding her the carrots. The taguel's face turned sated as she quietly chewed on the vegetable, seeming a little more pleased than before. Stahl sheepishly scratched the back of his head as he seemingly lifted up his plate to offer her more carrots. After a second or two of consideration, Panne seemed to cave and accepted the boon; the taguel seemed to look all the more comfortable from then on, giving Chrom reason enough to breath silent sigh of relief.
The prince decided to focus his attention on something else. Glancing from person to person, he noted the general mood of his subordinates friends. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, all talking animatedly as they downed their meal. Across from him, Lissa and Maribelle seemed to be having a light-hearted conversation, considering the less than stoic expression of Frederick, probably about him. Miriel seemed less focused on her meal and more focused on… Chrom had to narrow his eyes and focus to confirm she was sitting beside Kellam, who was quietly—and politely—eating small spoonful's of his soup. At the other table, with Panne and Stahl, Sumia and Gaius were also talking animatedly. Obviously, the thief seemed to be telling the Pegasus knight a story of sorts—something humorous, from the looks of it—as Sumia seemed absolutely enthralled by him.
Chrom winced.
The prince couldn't help but feel his heart constrict in his chest as he watched Sumia smile and laugh at… at whatever Gaius was saying. Glancing back down at his food, he returned to eating, but he couldn't stop his wandering eyes. Every time he looked and saw Sumia smile and react to Gaius, Chrom felt himself tense. He couldn't focus on his food. He was too jealous.
He wanted to be the one making Sumia smile and laugh. He wanted to be the one who sat next to her. He wanted…
Chrom clicked his teeth.
Why was he being so sour about this? It's not like there was anything going on between Gaius and Sumia, right? Yeah, he'd spot them sharing conversation like they were now every once in a while, but they were nothing more than casual acquaintances; at most, they were friends. Yup, friends, just friends…
…much like him and Sumia.
Chrom, less than gently, laid his fork and knife down.
"You alright there, Chrom?" Lissa asked, concerned.
Chrom shook his head.
"It's nothing," he lied, eyes still trained on Gaius and Sumia.
"Nothing?" his sister raised a brow, unconvinced. "Yeah, 'nothing' must be really irritating, because you look like you're ready to punch a wall…"
Chrom blinked, relaxing his face.
"Do I?" the prince cleared his throat, looking down embarrassedly.
"Yeah, you do…" Lissa smirked. "What's up?"
"I'm just… thinking…" the prince lied once more. "…just thinking about what… degenerate could kill so many innocent people…"
"Oh, that killer we're gonna be keeping an eye out for tonight? Stop worryin' about it, Chrom!" Lissa grinned. "Relax and eat! We'll catch 'em no problem!" she exclaimed.
"Right…" Chrom smiled awkwardly.
Silently, he returned his attention to his food once more, but glanced at Sumia one more time. Her smile made his heart skip a beat… the only downside was the fact that it wasn't him that she was smiling at. The prince shook his head dejectedly.
He really needed to sort out his feelings for Sumia…
…before someone else swept her off her feet.
Ylisstol, Ylisse
December 9, Age 2609 (10:16 P.M.)
Lucina let out a chilled breath as she snuggled into the warm blankets of her bed. Lying on her side, she curled up as she nuzzled her head into her pillow, an attempt to keep herself warm. She tossed and turned as she tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. Lucina wasn't used to sleeping alone, at least not anymore.
She missed Walter.
Lucina sighed as she buried herself deeper underneath the blankets, her nose up being the only parts of her exposed to the winter air. Despite him only being gone for a day, Lucina felt some sense of longing; for him to wrap his warm arms around her and stave the cold away. It was… silly, really; it wasn't like tonight—nor the night prior—were the only nights she spent alone. Truthfully, the butler tended to spend more nights in the palace than with her. Still, for some reason, Lucina couldn't help but feel his lack of presence beside her more deeply tonight.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Lucina hummed curiously. Someone was knocking on her door. At this time of night, though?
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
She raised a brow as she sat up. Contrary to her desire to remain buried in the warmth of her blankets, she lifted the blankets off her. She steeled herself against the frigid winter air as she shifted to the bedside, slipping her feet into a pair of warm slippers, and stood up. Wearing only a pair of navy-blue wool pants and a cotton tank top, she shivered slightly before slipping on a warm robe.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Lucina frowned. Persistent knocking didn't normally irritate her, but the fact that it was not only late at night but just shy of being as cold as Regna Ferox made her a little less than enthused to be up. Exiting her room, she strode towards the front door—the floorboards creaking with every step. The moonlight seeped through the windows, penetrating the curtains, barely illuminating the room. Despite the less than optimal lighting, Lucina managed to reach the front with little trouble.
Unlocking the door, she turned the doorknob to see who it as that was bothering her so late at night. Honestly, part of her hoped that it was Walter—returned early from South Town. Alas, to her disappointment, she opened the door to be greeted by…
…no one.
No one was outside, not even the smallest indication anyone was even there.
Lucina felt a chill run down her spine. All too suddenly, the air around her seemed to shift, as if something invisible was brushing past her, entering her home. The air seemed to chill even more, to a suspect degree. The instincts that she had built upon over years of living in the shadow of the Fell Dragon, Grima, began screaming in Lucina's ears; 'GET OUT, GET OUT!' they cried. Shakily, she closed the door, promptly locking it.
She hesitated to turn around; the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She felt like something was watching her. Apprehension took hold of the princess' heart; the fear of turning around and seeing something all too real. The princess steadied her breathing, steeling herself to confront whatever it was that may be lingering behind her. She turned swiftly, ready to move out of the way at a moment's notice.
Yet, nothing was behind her.
Lucina let out a belated breath. She should've known better than to let paranoia grasp her. Really, what could've managed to slip behind her without her noticing? She felt like a child. Quietly, she padded across the room, eager to reunite with the warmth of her bed.
Clung!
Lucina jumped, nearly letting out a shrill shriek. Her head shot in the direction the noise. To her relief, the cause of her brief fright was simply the Falchion; the heroic blade having simply fallen over. The princess sighed in relief. Detouring from her path to her bedroom, Lucina leaned over the weapon and picked it up from the ground. She left it leaning against the wall by the window earlier that day; typically, she kept it in her bedroom, laid flat on her dresser atop a brand of exalt embroidered blanket. She decided to give the blade a polish that day and she ended up leaving it leaning against the wall when she was finished.
Lucina considered the weapon for a moment before taking it into her quarters. Closing the door behind her, the princess gently placed the Falchion on her dresser where it belonged before returning to her warm bed. Slipping her feet out of her slippers, she removed her robe and tossed it away—too tired to be bothered with hanging it back up. She laid her head against her pillow and threw the blankets over herself, eager to drift off into sleep. Closing her eyes, she sighed in contentment as she snuggled up into a warm ball. Still, as warm as it was, Lucina was still missing one thing.
"Walter…" she murmured longingly. "Please get home safe…"
The princess from a ruined future smiled as she thought of the man who righted all the wrongs in her life. She missed him dearly and couldn't wait for him to return.
Quietly, she drifted off into sleep; allowing the gentle hand of slumber take hold of her.
"Hello… mein fräulein…"
Lucina's heart leapt out of her chest as she felt a cold hand snap over her mouth. A lanky—yet surprisingly strong—arm hugged her, keeping her arms bound.
"I don't usually dirty my hands with such barbarism, but mein usual helfer is currently… preoccupied…" a slimy voice whispered in Lucina's ear, his accent being one she didn't recognize. "Seeing as I cannot allow someone with the… foreknowledge that you possess run wild, I have to capture you myself…"
Lucina's screams were muffled—her assailant's hands gripping her mouth shut so tightly it was agonizing. She kicked and thrashed, she fought tooth and nail to escape the man's hold. The princess aimed to throw herself onto the ground; to crush her attacker with her own weight—light as she was.
"Relax… it'll all be over soon…" the man whispered once more, his slimy tone chilling Lucina's blood. "You'll be put to sleep soon…"
Lucina shrieked in agony as suddenly—and forcefully—a thick needle was jammed left to the center of her stomach. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs—whatever she was being injected with made her feel like she was on fire. The pain was so intolerable, she felt herself begin to go numb—as if she jumped into subzero water and slowly lost feeling in every part of her body.
Her eyes drooped, and she slowly began to lose the strength to fight. Lucina wanted to keep struggling, but she couldn't. Her screams died in her throat; the princess unable to muster enough strength to even whimper.
"Sleep, mein fräulein… sleep…" the man murmured. "Let all your struggles disappear…"
Lucina's vision blurred. She closed her eyes. She just couldn't fight anymore.
Her world grew dark…
…and then she knew no more.
Western Ylisse (Themis Region) ~ The City of Democratos
December 10, Age 2609 (12:23 A.M.)
Chrom let out a yawn as he struggled to keep his eyes open. After patrolling the empty streets of Democratos for nearly three hours straight, weariness began to take hold of the prince. Regardless, he couldn't rest; he couldn't rest so long as a murderer was on the loose.
"Captain?"
Chrom glanced over to Sumia, the Pegasus Knight sporting a concerned expression.
"Do you wanna take a break?" she asked. Chrom shook his head.
"Not yet," he replied simply. "Not until we find the killer…"
Sumia knit her brows together. Sighing, the hazel-haired knight closed the gap between the two of them. Chrom winced as she stared at him through narrowed eyes. Tensely, the prince glanced away from her.
"What are you-"
The prince couldn't finish his sentence, as Sumia suddenly placed her hands on the sides of his head and forced him to meet her gaze. The intense stare she was giving him made Chrom's heart pound in his chest. The thrumming of his heart intensified as the usually demure woman began to slowly lean in closer. At this distance, Chrom was able to make out the smaller details of her face: the faint traces of lilac in the hazel that was her eyes, the rosiness of her cheeks against her alabaster skin, the way her soft pink lips glistened. All of it was too much for the prince, and he felt his throat go dry from it all.
"S-Sumia…?" he gulped.
"Huh?"
As if a ton of ice water was dumped on her, Sumia tensed—eyes widening and mouth becoming a thin line—as realization dawned on her. Her cheeks turned bright red and she gasped.
"OH MY GOSH!" she squealed. "WAS I TOO CLOSE!?"
Sumia swiftly backed away from the prince, practically leaping away.
"Whoa, whoa! Calm it down there, Sumia, it's alright," Chrom assured. "I didn't mean to make you jump like that; you just made me a bit uncomfortable, is all…"
"I… I made you uncomfortable…?" Sumia muttered, expression becoming dejected.
Nice one, Chrom. You really have a way with words… Chrom mentally face palmed.
"That's not…" the prince inhaled. "I didn't mean it like that. What I mean is…" his gaze darted from ground, to Sumia, to the sky, back to Sumia, and then the side.
"I'm not used to having a woman so close to me, is all…" Chrom finished.
Yeah, why don't you admit to her that you think she's absolutely beautiful while you're stumbling over yourself? That'll make you REALLY look attractive. Chrom quickly shoved such thoughts out of his mind. He wasn't about to let such notions of ineptitude bring him down.
"Is that all?" Sumia stifled a giggle,
She's laughing!? Did I make a fool of myself!? Chrom threw out his negative thoughts once more, this time metaphorically padlocking them out of his mind.
"I never thought you were the kind of person that got all nervous about girls, y'know?" Sumia smiled warmly. "I always figured that you weren't fazed by that sorta thing; like it wasn't something that you were worried about…"
Chrom's brows furrowed.
"Why would you think that?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Oh… er… just… just forget I said anything…" Sumia murmured, fidgeting uncomfortably in place.
"No, come on, I'm curious," Chrom pressed. The Pegasus Knight seemed to wither beneath his gaze. The reds of her cheeks deepened, and she shyly glanced away.
"Well… you see… I always figured you'd be fine around women because… well…" the hazel-haired woman jittered as she struggled to share her assumption. "…seeing as how you've hundreds of admirers around the country, I assumed you… maybe… just once or twice… probably…" she drew in a breath.
"…entertained one of them."
Chrom stared. Entertained one of them? What did that even mean? Chrom mulled it over. Slowly, but steadily, pieces of a puzzle began to form in the prince's head, and as complete picture formed, the prince's cheeks turned a shade of red that equaled Sumia's.
"Wait, do you think I-" Chrom failed to compose himself. "Do you think I… philandered with some admirers of mine!?" he sputtered. Sumia's cheeks turned so red that they put Cordelia's hair to shame.
"I… er… you are prince of Ylisse, and are entitled to-"
"I can assure you—with one-hundred percent honesty—that I am as celibate as one can get!" Chrom suddenly shouted, embarrassed. That shut Sumia up REALLY quickly.
Chrom could only imagine the chuffed grin Walter would be sporting if he were present.
"Oh, you've done a fairly wonderful job of botching this one up, haven't you, Chrom?" imaginary Walter chuckled. "Why don't you admit that the very thought of physical intimacy turns you into a jittery mess on top of that? That'll be quite the conversation starter…"
Even in his head, Walter was rife with sarcasm.
"Oh… is… uh… that so?" Sumia coughed. "I'm… um… glad… to, uh… hear that."
The pair stood in place, staring at one another. Hilariously, they looked like they were competing to see whose cheeks were burning rosier. Both fidgeted in place nervously as they refused to make eye contact with one another. Walter would equate them to two pubescent teenagers who've just come face to face with their first crush.
"So… uh…" Chrom broke the silence. "What were… um… what were you and Gaius talking about?" he suddenly inquired. Sumia eyed him quizzically.
"What were Gaius and I- oh, you're talking about at dinner?" she asked for confirmation. Chrom nodded.
"Oh, nothin' interesting really; we were just talking about this beehive we scavenged—well, more accurately, Gaius scavenged. I just ended up getting the both of us stung by bees; probably shouldn't have just yanked it out of the tree and all that," Sumia answered animatedly. "I thought he wanted the hive for the larvae—I heard it's considered a delicacy; that reminds me, have you ever eaten any bee larvae before?"
"Er… no, not really," Chrom replied, somewhat baffled—as well as mildly disgusted—at the thought of eating bee larvae. Sumia furrowed her brows in confusion at his response.
"Really? I guess I must've misheard that rumor then…" she muttered before continuing with a full smile. "Anyway, it turns out that Gaius was actually after the honey the bees produced. I guess I should've seen that one coming; I mean, he does have the worst sweet tooth. Still, because I was the one that got the hive, Gaius decided to let me keep the honey!" she bobbed up and down excitedly.
"Really?" Chrom smirked, finding the sight of an overly delighted Sumia to be endearing as all hell.
"Yup!" the hazel-haired woman reached into her traveling pouch and pulled out a glass bottle filled with the viscous golden honey. "I plan on adding it to the next few pies I bake in the future," she declared happily.
"In fact…" Sumia seemed to shrink back, glancing at the ground, and fidget anxiously. "Do you… um… you wouldn't mind if I… if you taste one or two of them…?" she asked nervously, but hopeful. Chrom felt butterflies in his stomach.
"I'd love to try your pies!" he said a little too quickly. Sumia blinked, taken off-guard by the swiftness of his response.
"Oh, I'm honored that you do!" Sumia giggled nervously. "I mean, to cook a pie for you is an honor!"
"No, no, the honor's all mine; the fact that you'd consider taking the time to cook for me is flattering," Chrom scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"What? No, of course not," Sumia replied bashfully. "Anything for you, captain-"
"Chrom," Chrom interrupted.
Sumia stared at the prince.
"You don't need to address me as captain, Sumia," he elaborated. "I'd prefer it if you just call me by name."
"B- by name?" Sumia stammered. "B- b- but… that's so… that's highly disrespect-"
"No," Chrom said sternly, all anxiousness melting away. "You and I are partners on the battlefield, equals. Neither of us are elevated above the other, alright? From now on, you call me by name, okay?"
"I… uh… er… I suppose… I can do… that," Sumia fidgeted before meeting Chrom's gaze. "…Chrom," she whispered. Chrom felt his heart flutter hearing his own name come out of her lips.
"You're on first name basis now?" imaginary Walter chimed in. "Congratulations! When can I expect an invitation to the wedding? How about something for the baby shower? Oh, have you thought up a name for the child? If it's a girl, you should most definitely name her Luci-"
Chrom swiftly shut the imaginary butler down. There was no way in hell he was going to jump the gun and start thinking of such… such extremities. A wedding? A baby shower? Those were far away in the future; events that he didn't need to worry about just yet. Besides, being on first name basis meant nothing.
Besides, it's not like a marriage between him and Sumia would even be approved…
"MURDERER!"
Chrom was slammed out of his thoughts.
"That was Lissa screaming!" the prince exclaimed.
(Play song ~ Those Chosen by the Planet(Intro Looped) [Final Fantasy 7 OST])
Immediately, he and Sumia bolted in the direction of the scream. Chrom had the Shepherds fan out throughout the city to cover more ground. As per usual, the prince trusted Frederick to guard his sister; he trusted no one else—save Walter—with his younger sister's life; the knight was one of the Shepherds' best, after all.
"Captain!"
The familiar voice of Stahl came up behind the prince. Chrom glanced behind him to see Stahl and Panne dashing behind him and Sumia. His hand was on his sword, the usually carefree expression of the typically laid-back cavalier replaced with a grim frown. Chrom and Stahl exchanged nods as they focused on getting to Lissa and Frederick.
"FREDERICK!"
Chrom's heart twisted in his chest. Lissa just screamed again.
Rounding a corner, he caught sight of Gaius and Maribelle. It seemed the situation was dire enough that Maribelle seemed less focused on the thief she was partnered with, and more on the status of her best friend. The quartet quickly grouped up and became a hexad, all running in the direction of Lissa.
At some point before they grouped up with Maribelle and Gaius, Kellam and Miriel had caught up with them. Of course, no one noticed Kellam immediately—as was typical—so Chrom only took note of the presence of the tall knight after they caught sight of Lissa.
"Lissa! Frederick!" Chrom shouted.
The blonde-haired princess faced him, looking beyond terrified. It was only after peering past her did Chrom realize why.
Frederick was down.
(Replace song ~ Those Chosen by the Planet [Final Fantasy 7 OST])
The prince felt all the blood drain out of his face. The usually powerful knight—an appointed retainer to the Royal Family, chiefly Lissa—lay on the ground. His once pristine armor was cracked and shattered in several areas—his ribs, his chest, and his left side—and multiple stab wounds gushed blood onto the pavement. His silver sword lay discarded several feet away, snapped in two with chipped edges.
"Maribelle!" Lissa cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Help me close his wounds!"
Maribelle only nodded in response as she ran to Frederick and Lissa's side.
"Shepherds!" Chrom shouted. "Surround Frederick while they heal him!" he commanded.
Wordlessly, the group formed a circle around the heavily injured retainer. They all drew their weapons, ready to defend; Panne transformed into her taguel form as well. Tensely, the group of warriors eyed their surroundings; they watched for even the slightest movement in the shadows of the buildings. Though it made little sense, they knew that whoever attacked Lissa and Frederick wouldn't flee; they'd attack again.
Chrom's grip on Falchion was tight. His gloves creaked as he turned his knuckles white from how fierce his hold on his weapon was. Droplets of sweat slid down his cheek; he buried his fear and anxiety. He didn't have anything to fear; if he could face down a monster like Gangrel without flinching, what was there left to be afraid of?
"So, the calvary arrives to save their friend?" a voice murmured from the darkness.
Chrom's blood froze…
"Shepherds, what utter garbage; you call yourselves a militia? Pathetic, the lot of you…"
…that voice…
"I can't believe you lot are the ones I've been ordered to confront. If that fool of a knight was anything to go by, I doubt any of you will even make me break a sweat."
…he knew that voice…
"Still—boring as this will be—you lot will probably be more interesting an opponent than all these nameless grunts I've been cutting down."
…but it couldn't be.
"Coward!" Chrom grit his teeth. "Show yourself!"
The supposed murderer chuckled.
"Well, that's the plan…" the stranger said mockingly.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
The light clacking of the stranger's footsteps grew louder with every step he took towards the Shepherds.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
Chrom felt his heart pounding in his chest.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
He knew the voice of the man who'd attacked Lissa and injured Frederick.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
The prince knew it all too well.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
As did the rest of the Shepherds.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
As the man stepped into the light of the moon, all eyes were trained on him. Stahl and Kellam both gasped in surprise, Miriel furrowed her brow and straightened her glasses, Gaius nearly choked on his lemon drop, Sumia took a step back, and Chrom…
…Chrom could only stare in dumbfounded shock and horror.
"May as well introduce myself, seeing as it's common courtesy…" the 'stranger' smirked.
It was a man in his twenties. He wore a black dress shirt with white pinstripes underneath a black leather waistcoat that matched his pants. A black tie was knotted into a half-windsor knot around his neck. His face was handsome, sporting a mature sharpness that would make many a woman swoon. He had long black hair messily tied back into a low ponytail. However, what was most striking about the man was his eyes; they were a radiant silver that glowed with energy.
"My name is Walter Dornez, but you may refer to me as 'the Angel of Death'."
(Song ends here)
Writer's Notes
Well, wasn't this a twist filled chapter? From the official return of Herr Doktor—or Avondale Napyeer if you're lore savvy enough—to the reveal of who it was causing trouble in the Themis region, hopefully I made this long overdue chapter worth the wait.
Quite honestly, I have a lot to say about why it took so long for me to get this chapter finished, but more on that later.
Behind the Keyboard
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Walter's Shepherds' arrival in Southtown – Originally, instead of skipping straight to Walter waking up at the inn, the Shepherds were supposed to arrive at Southtown; Walter would reminisce over everything that's happened since he was last there. We'd also meet the duchess of the region, who would flirt with Walter, making all the male Shepherds' jealous. I ultimately scrapped this scene because it served no purpose that the conversation between Walter and Cordelia couldn't cover.
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Kellam and Miriel and cut conversations – While chiefly based on the pair's B support, there are also references to Kellam's other supports in this little section.
Originally, there were a few more interactions planned out, but I ultimately scrapped them. This chapter would've easily been over twenty thousand words if I kept all of them in, and—while the chapters have progressively lengthier as time has gone by—I'd rather avoid incredibly bloated chapters like that. I can barely read through them without wanting to skip forward, and catching mistakes is a hard enough job as is.
So why did this conversation make the cut?
Simple: because I'd already written it in and I couldn't imagine a better place for it, especially since a lot of stuff is going to be happening in the coming chapters.
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The unwritten battle against the Risen – I'm gonna be real, I did not realize how boring writing a battle between the Risen would be until I got here. After a whole arc involving multiple battles with undead, I knew for a fact that people were probably sick and tired of the regular Shepherds V. Risen/Ghouls battles. As a result, I just skipped writing it, because there was nothing interesting to be written.
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The conversation at the café – Here's a scene that was originally planned to occur a little later on but was pushed forward for… well… story reasons: Walter's reunion with Herr Doktor. I really liked writing this scene—well, more like loved—because there was a lot of fun to be had setting up the general tone of their relationship. Much like Walter and Gangrel, Walter and the doctor also hate each other, but while Gangrel was outwardly mocking and overall manic in his dealings with Walter, Herr Doktor is calmer and more collected towards the butler; I'd equate their interactions to two co-workers that just can't get along. They're both cordial enough to one another that you can almost misread them as friends, but there's enough venom oozing in their barbs at each other to see that they really REALLY want to strangle each other.
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The dinner – I've been trying to layer in more interactions between the Shepherds compared to prior arcs. If I have one major criticism of myself, it's the fact that past me wasn't all that skilled at writing them all hanging out and talking outside of battle; it's an issue that I still sort of struggle with. The dinner scene served two purposes; one in that it allowed me to add in a few minor interactions between characters that were needed to humanize them a bit more, two in so I could REALLY lay on how much Chrom is bothered by his current relationship with Sumia.
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Lucina's abduction – Yet another scene that was scheduled for later that got moved to this chapter. Well, actually, originally, there wasn't even going to be an abduction scene written for our favorite blunette princess. Don't get me wrong, she was going to be kidnapped—that's been planned since I came up with the premise of this arc—but I guess… well, it wouldn't have been shown. More on that in a future chapter.
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I'm not gonna respond to the reviews this chapter… It's been awhile, and—quite honestly—I've got some stuff on my mind.
So…
…why did it take me five months to release this chapter? What the hell have I been up to?
Well, if I'm being honest…
…this chapter went through hell.
I was having a hard time writing things out. If you couldn't tell by the behind the keyboard stuff, I had a hard time figuring out what exactly I was going to do for this chapter. I mean, have you ever had an idea for something in your head but couldn't execute it for some reason, or—better yet—your execution left a lot to be desired. That's honestly what happened. After a while, I felt like I was truly not living up to the standards I set for myself; everything I wrote felt like it came out of a truly by the numbers, mediocre, fanfic. It was as if it was 2015 again and I was back to the absolute novice I had been at that time.
I don't like releasing mediocre work, especially since I know I can do better.
I'm honestly sad to say that my passion for writing this fanfic sort of took a nose-dive after that. A part of me sort of felt like I was only writing more because I felt obligated to do so; not because I genuinely wanted to. It's rough because I felt so torn about it. I didn't want to call it quits, because—regardless of how annoyed I was—I REALLY want to see this story to it's conclusion. There's still so many ideas and moments I wanted- no, had to write, but it all required I got through this bump. There was a part of me that honestly wanted to nuke this story arc and start over from scratch. I was so conflicted with what to do—so uncertain—that I did the only thing I could.
I put the chapter on the back burner and went to work on something else.
The months would pass, and I'd write whenever I was feeling up to it. It didn't help that life was sort inching forward, and I had no idea what I was doing with myself. The whole CO-VID stuff wasn't doing me any favors either, but—honestly—that was a drop in the bucket compared to everything else. Every day was stress, stress, stress with no end in sight. Despite it all, this fanfic was always in the back of mind. Regardless of the fact I was now working on a manga/comic/webtoon/etc. this story never left my conscious. It was during this time that I had truly debated something with myself.
I know I said earlier that I didn't want to call it quits, but that was looking to be a very tempting option.
I already lampshaded the fact I could feasibly end it with the Gangrel Arc, and everything would be fine. Sure, I'd have to tie up a few loose ends, but that could be dealt with easily compared to running for another 50 chapters; I say 50 because I once predicted how many more chapters I'd have to write if I were to cover EVERY plan I have for the story and it came to about 50+. There was no way in hell I was going to put this story up for adoption because this is my baby—weird as it sounds—and if anyone was going to write it, it was going to be me.
I ultimately decided to put that decision on the back burner as well.
Flash forward to November. Life had started to stabilize, and I was more or less drawing my manga at a decent pace. As a result, I finally found time to get back to this chapter. After four months, give or take, I'd finally come back to write more…
…and what do you know, I actually enjoyed writing it again.
Maybe I was suffering some major writer's block, or I was just that burned out, but I actually managed to put word to screen much better than before.
So that brings us to the present.
I'm not going to stop writing. I like this story, to a stupid degree. It's a fanfic, but it's also a strangely important part of me. It's why I can't just leave this story to be adopted and hand the new writer all the story ideas, notes, character development, narrative progression, etc. It's too damn important to me.
It's kinda funny, while everyone else my age has probably moved on to college, I'm still sitting at my desk; writing a fanfic in between drawing my manga. I'm stubborn, I refuse to give up on things like this.
Anyway, to summarize this sappy stuff, this chapter put me through hell—so much so that I questioned my investment to the fanfic.
I apologize for the wait, but hey? What better gift to give all y'all then a new chapter and reassurance that this story is still alive and kicking.
I know for a fact 2020 has been a rough year, but persevere; things get better only if you fight to make them so. At least, that's how I function.
Anyway, it's great to back, and I look forward to releasing the next chapter for all y'all. I'll go back to responding to reviews normally next time.
~WizardCantNameThings
Next time on Walter Dornez of the Emblem
Accusations
