Content warning for the chapter: Lots of curses and emotional distress.
Shaky, foggy, unknown, pain, by God my head hurts. Smell, what is that, wood shavings, sweat, and poop. What in the hell is going on? Open your eyes, light is shinning through a thin canvas above me, neck and back is stiffer than a ram rod, I'm sleeping on wood shitty, uncomfortable, wood at that. Let's try to rub the drowsiness out of my eyes and get moving; as I try to lift my hands I am greeted with metal jingling and a sharp downward pull on my wrists. With a grunt of effort and protesting muscles in my lower back I sit up greeted with metal shackles on each wrist that are connected to the wooden floor that , I guess I slept on last night. "How fucking hard did I party last night?"
As those words leave my lips I notice the desert that is my throat, goddamn am I hung over. Okay deep breath, that is not panic rising in your throat, that is not fear coming, there's a reasonable explanation for this, panic gets you nowhere. Alright look around; the thin canvas is stretched in a half-circle around me, light pours through above me but not the sides, so mid-day. The wood boards below me have saw dust across the maybe eight by four space encompassed by the fabric, which means I'm in the back of a wagon? There's some planks pressed against the left side of the space with me on the right side, outside of those hunks of wood there's nothing here.
I lean down to examine the cuffs on my hands, although to call these cuffs is a disservice, the size and brutishness of the design makes me think 'manicals' which, technically speaking they're the same thing but this screams medieval tourture. I'm also not seeing any sort of emergency release which means whoever put these on wants me to stay in place instead of have fun. The chains aren't rusted or damaged so, if I were to escape it would be by removing the wood these manicals are attached to over breaking them. Stand up, and fuck, fuck, fuck leg cramp, nevermind back down sit down. Massage those legs, get some blood flowing, try to...
"Aye, boss, think 'es awake." Voices, they're deep, rough, gravelly, probably men who drink and smoke with an accent I can't quite place...Texas, no can't be Texan. Heavy footsteps outside, three...four people can't tell.
"Get some water for 'im might be real thirstah." Another deep voice, accented as well, I just...what the hell is it, I can not place it for the life of me. The weight below me shifts and the rustling of fabric alerts me to what must be the entrance to this cart as, shit! Bright light, look away, blink, blink, breath. The shadow of an imposing figure looms over me before falling down, a face greets me; a man with a beard but no mustache, his hair can only be described as...spikey, like an anime character. "Need some water?" Through he smiles, it does nothing to ease me, it's like a wolf.
"Yeah, I could use a drink." I speak slowly, keeping my voice steady. To my pleasant surprise my voice keeps strong; the man then holds up a fucking wine skin, excuse me? I hesitate from taking the container from his hands mostly just out of confusion, and my heart sinks as he takes a deep gulp.
"It ain't poisoned, can't get money from ah corpse." Again he gives that wolf smile and a wave of fear rides up my spine, what in the fuck is he talking about. Despite that fear my throat is much too parched to not take a drink as I tentatively grab the skin from the man and lean forward to bring it to my lips. It's lukewarm and tastes like leather, but it does ease the pain of dehydration as I find myself unintentionally chugging the liquid. I tilt the skin further back, getting some of the water to dribble out of my mouth, as I eventually bring the thing vertically, easing the pains of my throat and holding the empty skin back out to him. "See nowh? Ain't got nothing to fear." I lick my lips, take a deep breath and try to ignore the panic I'm feeling.
"I'm terribly sorry, but I can't rightly remember how I got here or who you are." Keep your tone neutral, but forceful, don't look weak but don't come off as aggressive. The man chuckles deeply and I can smell the alcohol on his breath, along with terribly strong garlic.
"Well, ain't yah just the most poliaht victim we had." Oh...thats not, panic, do not. Breathe, breathe, think, fuck, okay, calm...calm...stay calm god damnit! A hairy muscular arm clamps around my neck, as he laughs some more. "Oh don't look sos scared. Just havtah tell us who'll pay for ah ransom and little ol' Kostas here'll make sure yah's safe." Wait Kostas? That name's fami...his face. Wooden cart, medieval manacles, old timey wine skins, I'm. I'm in some fucking fire emblem fan fiction. Don't laugh, don't cry, don't make a scene despite the absurdity, just, sit back accept the fact you're in a video game, that you'll be in the middle of a war, and oh fuck I can't. It all starts pouring out of me, laughter, tears, fear, panic, an ungly amalgamation of noises and expressions wrack me with uncontainable force. "I..ah...sees you're needin a moment." Kostas loitors at the end of the cart for a moment before backing out leaving me to roll on the dirty floor and wail.
I couldn't even begin to guess how long I was like that, on the ground crying without a sign of stopping, what I do know is that if my throat didn't feel so damn sore I'd continue. I just, is this real? It feels real, but also how, how could this possibly be happening, this bull shit self insert fan fiction trope shit actually happened, AND I get imprisoned by the game's first boss. What absolute tom-fuckery is this shit? Okay, just, breathe in, hold it, breathe out - crying will not solve your problem so take a moment and fucking compartmentalize okay.
Kostas is under the impression that I, or rather my family, can pay ransom so I'm not in immediate danger. If I had to guess, I think he assumes I'm nobility due to this cloak that has apparently put itself on me, and is held in place with some metallic, silver maybe, clasp in the shape of an eagle holding a bundle of arrow. I'm also no longer wearing my normal 21st century clothing and instead seem to be in a red doublet, I think it's called, and black trousers. Meaning that when I was brought into this world someone or something took precautions to make it seem like I belonged, now here's the question; did I replace someone already existing or do I have a blank slate? I don't think I'll be able to figure that out, so next bit of information.
Other than some discomfort from the manacles and the uncomfortable wood I feel fine, no bleeding, nothing feels bruised, just some soreness. So other than the kidnapping I seem to be fine physically, still working on how things are mentally but that's a bridge for another time. Now do I have anything to help escape...no, or if I do have a key or some other shit it's in a pocket I can't reach. Well, unless I've been giving superhuman strength as well to just rip and tear my way out of custody I might just have to accept my fate and start planning for my future...in a video game. Actually there are people from Three houses with superhuman strength, if they have a crest so let's just stand up, brace your legs, and PULL! Fuck! Another leg cramp, okay nope. Not strong enough to free myself and probably not in possession of ancient magical crest blood, damn shame that.
So somethings to consider, when in the game are we? Well, Kostas is alive and not fearing for his life so definitely before Byleth beats his ass at Remire. The important question is, how far away from that fateful day am I, is it hours, days, weeks? Well, given the law of convenience that seems to exist in all the fan fiction I've read we're probably on the way to remire right now, or the Knights of Seiros are about to attack...right NOW!...right now, now. Worth a shot I guess. Actually speaking, uh, thinking I suppose, of Seiros and Sothis, do either of them know I'm here? I mean as much as I might be some random nerd from America back on earth here in Fodlan I'm some asshole nerd from another world with knowledge of how the future is going/might play out. I should also probably start trying to plan out what... "Time's ah wastin' set up camp here!" Kostas's voice rings around loud and annoying as heavy footsteps begin to approach my cart.
Kostas appears, pulling the flap to the side, toothy smile and shitty facial hair still there. "Hey there, gonna let yah free and for your safety, don't be brave." The bandit hefts himself into the cart while he pulls a set of keys out from a coat pocket, and as much as I really want to try something, fucker's twice my size and blocking the only exit; so now's not the time. He frees me and blood begins rushing to my hands, along with feeling to my wrists. A hard painful grip forces me onto my feet and Kostas drags me forward before I can get my footing right. Two long steps from the bandit and a few failed attempts to steady myself sees us arrive at the abrupt end of the cart, his grip tightens and, please don't do it. Ouch, fucker threw me out, dirt is very much not soft. Hands on ground let's get up, oh, oh holy shit.
There's more than just the one cart I was in, I can see dozens of carts, people, and horses gathering around this clearing in the woods. It suddenly makes a lot more sense as to why this bandit thought he could take Garreg Mach's house leaders and the Knights of Seiros. Kostas is apparently not just any bandit, the man commands a full and proper company, my gut says upwards of a hundred rough, dirty, armed bandits. I am in a very bad spot aren't I?
Oh great dust in my eye let's try to wipe that off and fuck! Ow, ow, ow why are you twisting my arm? Kostas has started not-so-kindly leading me to where two men have stuck a wooden pole into the ground, and seem to be setting up a tent. The two of us arrive at the post, and OW! STOP TWISTING THE ARM! Why is Kostas so tall now? Wait, no I've been forced into a sitting position, and why is my right wrist cold? I lift my hand to be greeted by jingling metal; he put the maniacal back on. "Really asshole, you've got an army, where am I going to go?"
"Bettah tah be safe wouldn't ya agree?" I mean, if I was kidnapping people for ransom I'd keep them handcuffed too, so fair point fucker. He stands up and starts walking around commanding people to do this and that, which is mostly digging a latrine and raising tents. Some ugly man with a patchwork beard and bad sun burns gives me a bowl of water and a hearty chuckle before sauntering away. I lift the bowl to my face, which grants the first pleasant surprise I've had today. I am, in fact, still me. Same heart shaped face, clean shaven, curly dark brown hair, and blue-grey eyes always refreshing to learn that not everything is fucked, all the time. Also yay more water, good to rehydrate after an emotional breakdown, which I did not just have I need to stay organized and calm.
The bandits finish setting up the tent around me, which is a welcome reprieve from the sun though I must admit at this point I'm starting to get bored of being a prisoner. Do-do-dee-do what's a man to do, I should probably work out a plan on what to do in this new world but I should probably be free~ first. God that didn't rhyme at all and the syllable count, terrible song. Actually, is that food? Yeah that's beef cooking, and my stomach growling like a dog. Food has still not been delivered, is this suppose to be torture, are they torturing me? I mean the hunger is unpleasant but I've only been here for like four hours, not enough to make me spill my guts, I've gone longer without food.
A tall lean bandit with a pointed jaw and dull brown eyes, enters the tent holding a plate of meat and potatoes. The man walks up towards me with an annoyed frown on his face. "You hungry there, matey?" Are you a bandit or a pirate? Oh he's glaring right he asked me a question.
"I could go for a bite, yeah." His frown deepens as he holds the baked potato in his off hand.
"Oh, just a bite, yeah okay just a bite then." The precious vegetable is then crushed under the bandit's fist as he then flicks the contents onto my face, a slight burning sensation forming on my face where it connected with my skin. I fucking hate you; mostly for being an ass but partially for destroying a perfectly good potato, do you have any idea how amazing that crop is? He leans forwards casting a shadow over me.
"What's the matter, noble boy, kitty-cat got your tongue?" Deep breath Uriel, cursing at him will not solve the problem, just keep calm, you can figure out a solution if you just compartmentalize. Mister bandit drops the plate onto my lap, with the chunk of charred meat barley staying on the plate, knife and fork as well. "Just cause the boss-man says we can't kill ya, that don't mean we gotta treat ya well." He spits, mercifully off to the side, before walking away. Oh shit wait!
"Hey! Speaking of the boss can you bring him to me?" A skeptical look as he does an about face.
"And, why do you need to speak to 'im?"
"Cause, I gotta piss." The bandit frowns once more before pointing towards the bowl that had water earlier today.
"Piss in that." Really, gonna leave on that. Well I probably should eat, even though that meat looks overcooked and hard as a rock, suppose that's why they gave me the knife...idea. Stupid, stupid idea but I think I can manage. Quickly I start scarfing down the cut of beef, awkwardly cutting it with my bound hand. Once my meal is finished I start with my plan, god I hope this won't get me killed.
I can't measure the passage of time inside the tent, the sun set before the food arrived, all I can say is that I started dozing off so it might've been an hour or so. I am jolted back to alertness when the, unfortunately familiar voice of Kostas greats my ears. "He's right in here, milord." Hold on, metal clanking, a deep sigh that sounds moderately robotic, oh, oh no.
"I thought I told you to take no prisoners?" Entering the tent is Kostas in his bare chested horror, but the person who enters with him is exactly who I feared. Black platemail armor, bone white and flame red mask, red shoulder decorations, long blood red cloak; the flame-fucking-emperor. The two approach me and I swallow down fear, I knew we'd meet eventually. I just thought I'd have time to prepare a speech or something, or at least get my bearings in this world. No, it seems like a meeting with the game's first main villain is in order.
"Uh you said, not to take dah knights or staff didn't say nothing 'bout stange nobles met on tha roads." The two stare at each other for a moment and I can imagine the Flame Emperor's eye twitching at Kostas's stupidity. The emperor turns to face me and takes a few slow steps and crouches down to get eye level with me. I should probably say something shouldn't I?
"Uh, hello there." No response as an armored hand reaches out to examine the cloak clasp.
"A one headed eagle, holding a bundle of ten arrows in both claws," The clasp is dropped and the emperor stands, "the symbol of the defunct and disgraced house of Von Aachen. Supposedly, hunted down to the last due to their conspiracy against the Imperial crown and other various crimes against the common people." Those things do not sound good. Also did the emperor say defunct?
"Defunct? So ya means they don't have money?" A bit of a simplification there Kostas but yeah that's what it means.
"Worse than that," the metallic voice of the Flame Emperor began " either this man is the last of his line, or he's a grave robber who didn't know what he was looting." Which means there's no one to pay any random for Kostas and I should start panicking. Okay, okay, think what can you offer them to stay alive?
"So, no ransom?" Kostas explains while scratching his beard. "Then what good is he?"
I can barely make out the sigh that escapes the flame decorated mask, "That is your problem to solve not mine." The flame emperor begins marching out of the tent while Kostas reaches to his side and pulls out, AXE AXE! Why are you getting close, oh fuck, he's gonna kill me. Think, shit, no money, no family, need something of value, time, time, need time to think. Kostas has closed the distance and lifts me up, wait time, the future!
"I know you're a student of Garreg Mach!" Kostas's axe presses against my throat the cold steel sends a shiver down my spine, a gentle press of force and I feel a small pinprick of pain on my neck. Oh fuck what shitty way to go.
"Hold it." The words are calm and spoken with enough force that Kostas doesn't finish opening up my throat. I can only hear the sounds of metal armor slapping against itself as the emperor approaches, my breath gets deeper as I'm staring Kostas in his ugly mug. "There might be some value to be had with this individual."
Kostas frowns and looks towards the armored individual, "Wait, is he telling the truth, yous justa student?" A heavy tension fills the air as the Emperor's dirty laundry is being aired out, but I've got time to think some more.
"No," the reply is cool and comes after a pause so it doesn't appear to be a desperate denial, a simple but effective lie from an experienced liar. "It is just that I have never heard someone tell a lie with such conviction while a blade was pressed against their throat." That's an opening I can work with that.
"What can I say, I have a lot of experience with telling lies." Nervous laugh to break the tension, hmm turns out laughing does not ease the tension of having an axe at your throat. A smirk spreads on Kostas's face, oh I don't like that smile.
"Well if someone thinks he has value then maybe they'd be willing to pay for his safety?" Oh you piece of, AXE! please stop pressing that against my sensitive skin, in fact I feel a little warm, oh that's blood I'm bleeding. My heavy breathing is the only sound in the tent for a few tense seconds, the two villains staring each other down waiting to see who backs down first. Due to the loud thumping of my own heart I don't hear the jingling of coins until the Flame Emperor lifts a pouch that must contain coins.
"Two-hundred pieces now, another one-thousand and a half after the attack; with the rest of the payment for the attack as well." Oh thank god, Kostas removed the axe and took the offered pouch, chuckling as he took a few merciful steps away from me. "Now, leave us, I wish to speak to him alone." Kostas gives his boss an odd look but leaves. The mask turns to meet my eyes, and I swallow once more, the face is a lot more intimidating alone. "What is your name?"
"Uriel." I answer quickly, GOOD LORD YOU'RE FAST, and why does my throat feel cold again. A glance down shows the Emperor has closed the distance, and oh fuck off. "Why does everyone feel the need to press blades against my throat?" Is this how my life is going to be from now on, just people holding blades to my throat? What, there isn't a blade at my throat anymore, oh thank NOT THAT'S WORSE! "Not the fucking eye either! Why is everyone so violent?" One hand grips a knife in a reverse grip, the point of the blade maybe only an inch away, while the other hand presses my head to the pole I'm chained to.
"Perhaps if you started explaining why you know I'm a student you'd be less subject to violence." Oh, fuck you. Alright so, how do I explain I'm in a self insert fanfic? Like, uh, don't think those words are going to translate well to a medieval world, time travel? That could work, but uh, how do I prove that? Cold metallic fingers slide across my face as one eye is held open and a small diamond moves even closer to my vulnerable eye.
"I'll tell you, I'll tell you if you just give me a second!" Oh praise Jesus the dagger is moving away from me now. "Okay, so, I don't think you'd believe the truth."
"Is that the hill you are placing your stake upon?"
"BUT! I can do you something better than that, I can prove my usefulness." The expression is entirely unreadable under the mask but the lack of a negative reaction is probably a good sign. "So, if I'm not mistaken these bandits are about to attack some of the students of Garreg Mach Monastery, along with a contingent of Knights."
"All things you could have learned from eavesdropping on the conversations around camp." You are just looking for an excuse to kill me aren't you?
"I wasn't finished, the leaders of the three student houses are going to get separated from the rest of the group, along with one of the professors, or the only professor on the trip I'm not sure about who exactly is in the group." I give the Emperor a once over, trying to gauge any reaction, of which there is none. "So the three students are going to flee the bandits and arrive at Remire village where the famous mercenary Jeralt 'break blade' is stationed. Along with his child Byleth the five of them will fight off the members of Kostas's gang that chased them. Ultimately everyone from the monastery will be fine and Kostas will survive but be on the run for about a month I think it will be." The silence is impossibly heavy as that bone colored mask just stares at me, seconds or maybe even minutes pass as I take a deep gulp.
"That is a bold claim to make about the future, especially since the Eisner mercenaries are in the kingdom of Faerghus and not the Empire." That is not a good thing to hear, this oh god, this isn't some self insert where I gotta try to fix a ruined timeline is it? If the Eisners aren't at the village then the entire game's storyline is just FUBAR, I have to believe they're there.
I take a deep breath and meet the mask's steely gaze, as I speak with more certainty than I feel. "They will be there." There's another long tense pause between us.
"Let us say that what you predict does in fact come true. What is your desired end goal here?" That...that is a very good question I mean, the end end goal is probably go home and don't let the god killer, ya know kill god or well Goddess in this universe's case. That goal however is about, five whole ass years away. Five years away from my friends, five years away from my family, five years of COMPARTMENTALIZE YOU DUMB FUCK. One thing at a time, so, let's start with the basics.
"Well, right now I think I'd like to get out of these manicals. After that I think a nice steady employment at Garreg Mach would be a great change of pace to being kidnapped by bandits and having knives shoved in my face." Again the cold expressionless mask looks back at me and I meet it with surprising ease.
"Very, well I shall see what can be done." Yeah, just make the execution swi...wait, did they just say, "If the leaders of the student houses are separated from their professors, if they find safety from the pursuing bandits in Remire village, and if Jeralt the 'Blade Breaker' is there. Then you will have your staff position at Garreg Mach." Well, that was easy, although I would still like if something could be done about the manacles however. "But, know these two things, Uriel. First, if your predictions do not come true; I will kill you. Second, in the highly unlikely event that you managed a lucky guess as to my identity, once you are employed by the Church of Seiros you will find a way to speak to me privately where we will discuss the nature of your knowledge in a less threatening location." I can work with those, and have time to determine how to explain time travel to a bunch of oppressed medieval students.
I lift my hand up towards the flame emperor, and offer my most winning smile, "Shake on that deal then?" There is obvious hesitation but my hand is taken and with more force than necessary the deal is sealed. "So if you could do me a favor and make Kostas let me pee I'll be sure to do everything I can to help you." I'm given a curious side eye as Kostas is summoned back inside.
"Free this man, and take him to the latrine, hold him here in more comfortable conditions. I will return to take him from your custody on the morrow." Kostas blinks a few times and looks pleasantly pissed off before he sighs and fishes the key form out of his pocket. I begin to massage feeling back to my wrist the moment I'm freed and Kostas goes to stand by the exit which is devoid of any other life.
"Did, did the Flame Emperor just leave?"
"Yeah," Kostas says, massaging his neck " he likes to just up an' leave when ya turn ya back." But loud plate mail armor, how could, oh right, teleportation magic that's a thing in this game. Slowly I follow the bandit as he leads me towards the edge of camp, a camp that seems to be turning in for the night and is putting out the last few fires. Eventually I'm led to a foul smelling trench that's had a few wooden planks placed over it. I opt to stand over the edge, better footing on this side.
"I'm gonna get ya a sleepin' mat." Without any more fanfare Kostas leaves, leaving me alone with the poop trench and the still night. I lick my lips as a few thoughts begin to cross my mind, I could make a run for it there are no guards here, Kostas has just left me. Although as I look into the dark forest ahead of me, I find myself doubting my ability to survive without any other assistance, and more importantly then what? Hope the Flame Emperor or Kostas doesn't decide they want to hunt me down to kill me, hope I don't run into any other bandits? And, even if I survive exposure, wild animals, the game's villains hunting me, the question becomes; then what? Do I just keep my head down and let the events of the game play out, try to influence things from the outside without any allies, money, or clue what to do?
I let out a shaky breath, there is no good call here is there? I do think there is one choice that is most likely to end in the best result even if it's more dangerous right now. With a head hung low I retrace the steps that Kostas just led me down, returning to that damn tent I've been stuck in for the better part of a day already. Kostas is waiting for me, a thin bed roll already laid out next to the support beam. Kostas just grunts as he stands up to leave, he bends down once more to take my food plate where a deep frown forms on his face. A quick glance is sent my way but nothing is said as Kostas takes the bowl and leaves the tent.
I wait until his footsteps disappear into the night before I lie down in my roll, removing the cloak I've been wearing to use as a pillow. I keep my eyes open for a few more minutes, careful to ensure that there is no more noise in this camp. When I am satisfied by the silence I scoot over towards the pole I was chained to earlier and begin digging directly behind it. My movements are slow and careful, so as to not cut myself, as I work to reclaim the dinner knife. When I hit the hard handle I start to pull until the blade is freed from it's dirt prison. Quickly and with less consideration than last time I put the dirt back over the hole and place the knife carefully under the cloak. I set my head down for the night and feel resolve as my fingers dance over the knife, I will take destiny into my own hands when that sun rises
Author's notes: So I've had this idea kicking around in the back of my head since I finished three houses more than a year ago, a friend inspired me to actually start writing so we'll see how things go, feel free to leave reviews and let me know how you feel!