Chapter Four: Learning

Zama led me out of the room, through what seemed a maze of natural tunnels. Domingo was with us too, but he was waylaid by some passing children in rags.

That was something I noticed – there were people milling around the caves. They spoke to one another in solemn, hushed tones, their appearances shabby and worn. Some of them would be sat, watching skinny children dash along the halls or prod at cobwebs. A woman with a bandaged arm smiled at Zama as we passed, then went down one of the many crisscrossing torchlit paths.

I soon realised that nobody's smile here seemed to extend beyond their mouths. The children in their innocence were the exception, but even they must have noticed an unease in the air. It was eerie, as though everyone was afraid.

We stopped at a room, and I found myself wondering at just how spacious this cave was. We stepped through the uncovered opening. There was a woman sat on the floor, for the room was barren save for a few short stacks of papers and books.

They were spread about haphazardly, and the woman was constantly picking up foreign diagrams or maps, looking at them only briefly, then placing them back down with a sigh.

She looked up, finally, her lidded eyes heavy as they peered at Zama.

Zama shook her head as though answering some silent question, then gestured to me, "This is... Derek?" I nodded, and she continued, "Derek. Derek, this is Shadya, our resident librarian."

Shadya shook her head sadly, her voice so quiet to the point it was barely audible, "Hardly a library."

Zama gestured at me again, "I suppose you'll have no books about it, but Derek seems to have some unusual properties." She explained my situation to the librarian then, and as Shadya listened, I realised there were parts to this story even I didn't know.

"Reth's men found him on Solemit Fields. He was dead, so they just brought him back for burial. Dom rescued him from his tomb though, and he... well, as you can see, he's not dead. He fainted shortly after his rescue, and when I tried to wake him with my staff, his skin burned black and bubbled off."

Shadya stood, and I realised she was remarkably small. Her slight frame barely came to my chin, though this did make it easier for Zama to show her my chest and explain the rest of the situation in full.

I found my eyes drifting to the scattered papers, and when I realised that neither woman was paying me any more attention, I knelt down and grabbed a few maps.

The maps seemed to mainly be of islands, though I realised that I actually recognised a few of them. One, a map of a large continent cut off at the north and west, but otherwise split in two by a massive valley, was of Nohr and Hoshido. I recognised it easily from the game, and another of the maps showed the floating islands of Valla.

It wasn't sea separating any of the Vallite islands. They hung in the air, separated by great swathes of nothingness. Natural land bridges stretched between a few of them, sometimes moving mysteriously to other islands.

The maps were marked with dots, here and there – spots of differing sizes, though most were crossed out. The largest spot was not crossed over, however. It was a mark of deep red on the green land. That location was the Castle Gyges, and it made me uneasy even looking at it.

That mark, at least, I could understand. I recognised it from the game, after all, but how did I possibly know what all of the other marks were?

Because I did know. I realised that those spots had been human settlements – in size order: cities, towns, villages, hamlets and solitary farms. The ones crossed out had already been scouted – no survivors at most, if not all of them. Survivors of what?

My eyes flicked to the ominous red spot that was Castle Gyges, the ruling castle in the capital city of Valla. My eyes trailed to an open book, filled with pictures of dragons. The words were foreign – a lettering system neither Latin nor Cyrillic. I didn't recognise any of it for it was no alphabet I knew. A boxed letter here, then an ornate version of an ampersand.

And suddenly, as I stared at it, I knew what it said. It was dragon anatomy, researchers using it to find Anankos's weakness. A scribbled margin listed some of the lines to a very familiar song.

I knelt down, pulling a feather from one of the books and dipping it into an inkwell. I filled in the missing words to the song, barely hearing Shadya's cry of alarm as I vandalised what few books the survivors of Anankos's tyranny had salvaged.

I kept going, pouring the words easily onto the page, even using those newly learned letters. I stopped, finally, the song finished. Shadya snatched it from me then to see what I had done.

"You can read that language? Even write it?" Zama asked of me, surprised.

"He knows the song!" Shadya added, disbelieving.

I nodded, "I... I didn't recognise the words at first, but... Suddenly I did."

"The song?" Shadya repeated, prodding for information.

"It... I come from far away, where that song is still known."

Shadya rifled through the sheets then, pulling out the map of Nohr and Hoshido. Instead of pointing to any of the borders, though, she tapped near the middle of the map. "Far away? Another world?"

I nodded, and Zama, who had been mouthing the song I had written, looked up, "This is a prophecy."

Shadya and I looked at her, and she explained. "The song, it's not just lyrics. The words tell a story. It seems prophetic."

I nodded, and tried to explain. "Where I'm from, there's a story. A lost child of Valla was sent to Hoshido, and a woman fled with her daughter to Nohr. The... The "ocean's grey waves" is that person – the missing child. And the song has to be sung by that daughter."

Shadya and Zama were silent, then Shadya spoke, her voice a breath, "Ladies Mikoto and Arete..."

I nodded, knowing those names.

"You must help us!" Zama said with a sudden finality. "You clearly have unique abilities – being able to absorb knowledge and with a natural healing skill never before seen. You must retrieve the missing Queens of Valla, and their children. Bring them here to help us!"

I paused, then nodded eventually, finding myself growing excited by the prospect of meeting Corrin and Azura. "How do I get out of Valla?"

Zama and Shadya did not know.

...

It was a few days later, my having read and absorbed all of the limited library. I found that I seemed to have a newfound gift for language. I had studied French for ten years through schools and college, but still struggled to string many sentences together. Now, I seemed able to speak and write fluent French - not that that was very helpful to the Vallites. Instead, I spent some time translating the ancient documents they had salvaged when they fled their homes into the language and alphabets they used. Unfortunately, none of it was helpful to their situation, but at least they knew several lost fairy tales.

I trained with some of the soldiers each morning. They laughed at my slow movements and weak attacks, my lacking skill and non-existent self defence. Then, when they saw my broken bones reattach and my bruises vanish, they panicked. I could never beat them physically, it seemed, but they could do no lasting damage to me.

We discovered that of magic, I could shrug most of it off with no effort, but healing magic – alternatively called holy or light magic – made my skin and blood bubble and slowed my healing down. I had to beg an overzealous monk to stop his healing once – he had been insistent that enough healing would "heal the anti-healing."

The hunting party returned with news. They brought with them a frail, dying man, shrouded in white and with blue hair. Everybody knew who he was, and their faces were solemn and filled with respect as his procession filed through.

He was set in a room, on the only bedding they had, and one by one, he quietly called out names from within. At each name, one of the hundreds of survivors would enter to kiss his forehead, and though they entered with tears, they left with looks of hope.

Finally, he seemed to reach the end of the list, but then he called out another name. Mine.

I entered, passing whispering Vallites either wondering who I was, or wondering what the man knew my name.

He laid, staring at me with gentle blue eyes as I sat on the chair by his bed. His blue hair framed his face, and his skin was pale.

"You know who I am?" he said finally. His voice, which had been quiet from outside, still seemed to echo, and the sound of it warmed my heart.

"Anankos?" I replied, uncertain, but the human half of Anankos smiled.

"And you are Derek, not of this world," he said. Regret flitted across his face, "I must apologise for that. It was my power that brought you here."

I looked at him and said, "I... I can do things. I heal, but... Healing magic hurts me. And the books..."

He smiled sadly, "What those powers are, I cannot tell you. But I must reveal a sad truth."

He paused, and I nodded for him to continue, "I tampered in a realm that was not mine, and my actions were not without consequences. You were on the verge of death, it seems. A natural one, passing in your sleep, but my meddling with dimensional magic brought you here, halting your passing between life and death. I am sorry."

I had... Died? Or... I was dying? I slumped in the chair at that, but Anankos seemed both sincere and regretful.

"I cannot return you to your world in this state, and rather, I would request your aid." He sat straighter, and then told me, "I brought three warriors here, tasking them with the sad duty of ending my other self's mad reign. I wish for you to go with them, aiding their quest as a tactician."

"Tactician?" I repeated, "I don't... I'm not that good at tactics."

Anankos bowed his head, wincing as he did, "And so I shall bequeath to you my centuries of knowledge. I have seen many wars and battles, both as a soldier and a leader. My wisdom will guide you, and the three dragon slayers shall guide you to the world above."

I nearly gaped at the godlike being, "You... For me?"

"Yes," Anankos's smile was warm, despite his cold body. "Odin, Laslow and Selena are the three dragon slayers. I will send you to them, but I can send you no further. They have their task – to find a Princess named Corrin, and guide her here."

"The... Curse of Valla?" I checked.

"You know of it? Good. Then you should know to avoid speaking of Valla or Anankos outside this country's borders. Truthfully, I am not sure if it would affect you, but it would still draw undue attention."

"What about Azura?" I asked, realising he had not mentioned her.

He paused, head tilting, then he remembered, "Arete's child? I was not certain she still lived. But yes, if she does, then she shall be vital to saving this world."

I smiled, "I'll go to Hoshido. The other three can find Corrin, and I'll try to save Azura."

Anankos was shocked at my declaration, then chuckled, letting out a cough when he was done, "It seems you already have some form of plan, and you claimed to have no tactical prowess." A shake of blue hair on pale skin, then: "But I have little time left. I have clung to life far past I should have. Come. Place your palms on my forehead."

I did as he instructed, and wanted to recoil. His skin was not cold, it was hot, like touching a lit stove. I persevered, and next I knew, I was falling through darkness.

Author's Note:

I did a minor edit on the description of my reading and language abilities in this chapter. Another mystery to answer, but I assure you, there is an answer.