Birth and Re-Death

Chapter 9: Fun with Blowing Ourselves Up

"And you say he mentioned me by name?"

"Yes, my lord. There's no mistaking it."

"What else does he know?"

"I have no way of knowing beyond what he said. He knows at least that you and I are in communication. He alluded to secret plans."

"Damnation. Well, from now on we must assume that your role is compromised with the Ylisseans. Gangrel may yet prove useful, but we will now be forced to take great care with how we use you. Begone for now; I must think on this."

"My lord, there remains the chance that none of the others know of our connection. If we can dispatch the healer quickly–"

"I will give it due consideration. Begone."

He has never looked at me that way before. I force myself to maintain composure as I leave his chamber, but I don't get more than a few paces away from the door before a sob breaks out. Once one sneaks past, the floodgates are open, and I'm bawling on the floor of the hallway like a little girl. I let him down, twice in one day. First by evidently failing to keep our plans private, and second by failing to eliminate even one hapless healer. All because I was toying with him! I underestimated the Ylisseans. I won't do that again.

"By the way, you're totally being brainwashed, and it's super funny."

I can't get that out of my mind. It makes my head ache to think about it too much. Great. Now I'm crying and I have a headache.

"My lady, are you alright?" A soldier has entered the hallway and stands cautiously in the doorway, one hand lingering on the frame. "I thought I heard something. Are you harmed?"

I will admit, I lose my composure a tad. "RRRRRAAGH!" I spring to my feet and rip the sword from its scabbard at my side. It seems this is what the soldier feared, as he instantly makes an attempt to escape. Too late; I've got a clean shot. I throw the sword, and it hits the sweet spot at the back of his neck. He collapses instantly, gargling for a moment but fairly quickly passing. I cross over to him and wrench the sword out, wiping it on his tunic before sheathing it.

Ugh, now I have to find someone to clean this up. Can't be helped, I suppose. Can't have the soldiers knowing their lady… No matter. I've already forgotten the incident.

"So okay, you never did say. What does "let's make like trees" mean?"

I snort, having forgotten the exchange. "Oh, that. It's half of a bad joke. Let's make like trees, and leaf."

Ricken looks disappointed. "Oh. That's it?"

That only makes me laugh harder. "Yup. Sorry man." I've gotten into the habit of calling Ricken 'man' lately. Seems to make him sit a little taller.

Robin strides over, carrying a tray of water cups and what appears to be bear meat to the table. "I don't know what you expected, Ricken," she says, sitting on a nearby stool and doling out the waters.

The smell of meat has me salivating. "Yo Robin, is some of that bear for me?"

She shoots me a look. "No way! I picked bear meat so that I could have more to myself, since so few people seem to want it."

"Come oooon, Maribelle and I only had bread to eat for like a week and a half! Spot me some protein, brotein!" I protest, folding my hands earnestly.

She contemplates for a moment. "Fine, but only if you promise not to call me 'brotein' again." I nod vigorously, and she tosses me a chunk and I tear into it with gusto. Oh my God it's so goooood. "For that matter, please steer clear of calling me anything with 'bro' in it. It's bad enough with Chrom constantly confusing me for a man."

I snort, almost choking on bear. "I'm sorry, what?"

She leans forward, suddenly excited. "That moron had the gall to suggest I'm just 'one of the guys' and that he doesn't even worry about seeing me as a woman! I'm also pretty sure I overheard him talking to Frederick once, saying," and she puts on her best Chrom impression, "'I think Robin's off going over the plan for the march in his, er, her tent. Gods.' What gives?"

"I see you as a woman!" Ricken pipes up helpfully.

I plant a hand on his shoulder. "Easy there, Casanova." He raises a brow, confused. Oops. Casual references. "Anyway, why's it matter to you that Chrom confuses you for a guy sometimes?"

She glares at me. "Why wouldn't it matter?"

"I mean, do you want Chrom to, uh… see you as a woman?" I ask slyly.

She reddens, and her glare hardens. "No! Are you kidding? Don't say stuff like that!"

I've touched a nerve. Excellent. "My, my, that's quite the stern reply." Ricken giggles next to me.

"Only because that's the farthest thing from my mind right now!" she protests, looking pained.

"I suppose it's true," I go on, savoring the artificial melodrama. "After all, how could you fall for a man like that when there's the true paragon of masculine prowess right here?" I stroke my beard sensuously with one hand, and flex the bicep of the other arm.

Now it's her turn to giggle. "Psh, as if I'd be so bold. Everyone knows you're a taken man, after all."

My heart skips a beat. "Excuse me, what? Everyone except me, apparently."

"Oh, come on, you know what I'm talking about." She waves a hand.

"No, I really don't, actually. Please fill me in." I think I have an idea where this is going, though.

"You know, you and Maribelle," she replies.

"He and I what?"

The three of us yelp in unison as Maribelle walks over to us. In the dark of the evening and the light of the small fire Ricken and I had started, her approach was shrouded in darkness. Spooky.

"I thought I felt my ears grow hot, and that always means someone is talking about me," she says through a smirk as she takes a seat near us.

Robin speaks a little shakily. "Well, we were just saying how fortunate it is that we got the pair of you back safely. As foolhardy as Ricken's rescue attempt may have been, it did buy you the time we needed to get you out of harm's way, haha." If it weren't for the nervous-as-hell delivery, I'd give her top marks for that BS.

"Is that so?" Maribelle asks, not looking thoroughly convinced. "She is right, though, Ricken. You could have gotten yourself killed sneaking in like that!"

"That's a funny way of saying thank you," I deadpan.

She swats my shoulder. "Of course I'm grateful for the rescue, but," she falters a moment, "well, it's different with him!"

Ricken takes offense at this. "Why should it be different for me? I'm of age now, so there's no reason for me to hang back."

"How old are you, anyway?" I ask him.

"Sixteen." Oh wow, I might be on Maribelle's side a little bit now.

"And what's more," Maribelle interjects, "is that this was his first time in real combat. I know you handled yourself well in the battle, but we have to look out for one another even when the bloodshed is over."

I haven't really had to think about it as a healer, but it must be pretty brutal to have to cut people down yourself. I remember again the blood that showered onto Ricken from the diving wyvern yesterday, the way he just stood unflinchingly and took it. How hardened is this kid already?

"I'm fine," Ricken says. "I'm not going to shy away from my duty as a Shepherd, no matter how much you and Chrom and anyone else want to keep me at home like some kid."

"Ricken," Robin says in an attempt at a soothing tone, "no one is going to send you home. We just want to make sure that you're doing alright. We did the same for Donnel when we recruited him. The act of killing people, no matter how much they might deserve it, is hard on everyone that has to do it."

"Don't gang up on me like that!" Ricken says, scooting his stool back from the fire.

I raise my hands a bit, trying to calm the waters. "You're right. You don't have to talk about this stuff if you don't want to." I feel both Robin and Maribelle shooting me a look. "Tell ya what. Tomorrow, when we get to the next town, you stick with me, and we'll have a bros' day out. Check out the sights, check out the ladies, all that good stuff. Yeah?"

"'Check out the ladies,' eh?" a voice behind me asks. A massive hand claps down on my shoulder. "You can count the Vaike in!"

"You know, I've heard this town is famous for its cuisine," Stahl adds, stepping into the fire's light behind Vaike. "I wouldn't mind catching up with you a bit either, Randall."

Robin rolls her eyes. "Will there be anyone left to help us get food and supplies bought?"

"I'm sure Chrom and Frederick will be more than happy to spearhead that campaign. For my part, I think after spending so many days confined with giga drill hair over here," I jerk a thumb at Maribelle, "I'm definitely in need of a day off."

Maribelle opens her mouth to protest, but Robin gets there first. "I could see you and Ricken taking a day, but you two," she points a finger at each of them, "no dice. Now let's get to bed before it gets too late." Vaike and Stahl groan as they shuffle off, their fate sealed by the iron fist of our dauntless tactician.

I hang back with Robin to make sure the fire gets properly extinguished while the others depart for their tents. As we take turns kicking dirt onto the fire (gotta preserve water, after all), she finally speaks up.

"So I know there's a lot of stuff going on, but I feel like I should ask. Are you doing okay?"

"What, me? Yeah, I'm all aces. Why?"

"Don't play dumb. I've heard what happened at Maribelle's villa. It goes without saying that Maribelle is devastated, but she has Lissa and Chrom and the others to back her up as she recovers, and she's known them for years. You're still new to the country. Barring Maribelle herself, the people at her villa were the ones you spent the most time with. Not to reopen such fresh wounds, but if you need anything, that's what I'm here for."

By now the fire is pretty much put out, and the light of the stars is the only illumination around on this new moon night. It's interesting how many more stars you can see when light pollution ceases to be a problem like it is back home. Earth home, I guess. I don't find any constellations I know from my own sky here when I look at the night around me.

"I wouldn't worry too much about me," I say after a moment, still looking up and searching for familiar stars. "Like you said, Maribelle has a lot more to move past than I do. And then there's the new recruits, kids who have never seen battles and shit like that before. Compared to them, I'm good."

"Are you sure? I want to believe you, but if there's anything I've learned about you so far, it's that you've got a strong tendency to put your needs off to help with someone else's."

"What are you talking about?" I finally look at her. She's wearing a sort of half-smile.

"The day we met. Or, I guess, that night. When you let Lissa take your tent, even though Chrom told you not to."

I laugh a little. "What, that? It was literally nothing. Plus, I thought you were asleep for that."

"Well, it makes an impression. Lissa told me about it."

"Makes an impression, huh?"

"That's right. So even though I'm pretty sure you wouldn't tell me if there really is a problem, just know that, I guess, you always can. Alright?"

"I'll keep it in mind, I suppose."

She starts walking away, then pauses and turns back for a moment. "Oh, and thanks for doing this for Ricken. I know what you were doing there, even if Maribelle and even Ricken himself don't."

"What I was doing there? I just needed an excuse to hit up the town and meet some fine lasses. I'll tell 'em Ricken is my terminally ill brother, girls love sob stories."

She laughs a little too loudly for this time of night, then snorts trying to cover the sound. It's an exquisite sight, and I will never ever let her forget it. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, Randall."

"Yeah. Good night."

True to my word, as soon as we enter town around mid-morning the following day, Ricken and I break off from the others and head off toward the more specialized stores in the center of town. There are a lot of antique stores and other neat stuff, but Ricken is drawn to an old magical oddities shop.

We look around in the store, finding little magic pages with novelty spells not popular enough to get bound into entire tomes. There's a spell that makes a strong orange fragrance when cast, but it dissipates after just a minute or so. There's a spell you can cast on any fluid to turn it bright red, but the more fluid you're trying to change the harder the spell is to cast.

My favorite, though, has to be the explosion spell page we find. Instead of the kind of explosion I was expecting, with fire and all that good stuff, this is a modified wind spell that throws whatever is in front of the caster backwards, but also throws the caster himself with equal force in the other direction. I can't help myself; I end up buying like six of them. We have to try it.

A few minutes later, we are standing in a small grassy field just outside of town. I hand Ricken one of the sheets, and he studies it for a minute to make sure he knows how to cast it. He stands facing me, maybe four feet away.

He grins at me. "Are you ready for this?"

"You bet your ass I am. Let 'er rip!" I reply, preemptively tensing up.

He crumples up the page in a fist, then holds it out in front of him. His fist starts glowing with a faint green light, shining through the small gaps between his fingers. Suddenly, without any sound or any warning, I am flying backwards at a concerning speed. The world blurs for a moment in a slurry of color, air, and roaring sound, and then I hit the ground and start rolling.

When I finally come to rest, my brain starts its old habit of cataloging damages. Fortunately, there doesn't seem to be much, just a vague ache all across my body. One look at the grinning Ricken, now a couple dozen feet away, convinces me it was worth it.

"Holy moly!" he shouts as we both walk back to where we were standing before. "That spell really packs a punch!"

"Who comes up with something like that?" I wonder aloud.

"I don't know, but I want to shake his hand," Ricken says.

"For sure."

We stand there for a moment, silent.

"Wanna do it again?" Ricken asks.

Grinning like a madman, I slap another sheet in his outstretched hand.

Deciding to save a few sheets for later, we eventually wander back into town, shopping around and trying some of the local cuisine here and there. For someone who only recently got off a carbs-only diet, it's like a dream come true to have so many choices.

"So alrighty, Ricken," I say between bites of skewered lamb, "let's hear about it."

"About what?" he asks around his own skewer.

"The story. The plan. What's your life gonna be like?"

"That's… pretty vague." He raises a brow.

"That's the point. No wrong answers." Experience has taught me that it's more about getting them talking than it is about asking whatever question you might have.

"Well, I definitely want to become one of the strongest mages there ever was. Someday, I'll become just as fierce a battlemage as the greats of the past, like Merric of Altea. I'll make everyone back home proud." He puts on a confident smile.

"Sounds pretty good to me. And how was your first real battle? I mean, if you're gonna be like Merric someday, you gotta start somewhere."

He pauses for a moment, the smile fading a little. "It was fine, I guess. Nothing special. We did what we needed to do, right?"

"Yeah. I have to say, though, it was pretty badass, the way you swooped in on Aversa and saved Maribelle and me like that. Mad respect, for sure."

"Maribelle seemed like she was mad at me, though." He looks down.

I scoff, waving a hand. "Nah, she's not mad at you. She was scared, is all. Your first time in combat, and you go, by yourself, behind enemy lines for a rescue mission of two healers that wouldn't even be able to help you fight your way out? That's pretty heavy for an inaugural battle, I'd say."

"When you put it like that… But you don't think she's mad?"

"Not a chance. She's just got a funny way of showing she cares, sometimes. I got plenty of that training with her for a month and a half."

The smile finally returns. "I guess you would know better than I do. Thanks, Randy."

"No prob, Bob."

"...It's Ricken."

Eventually, it's time to rejoin the others. By the grace of the gods, we are allowed to stay in the local inn overnight rather than staying in tents again. The catch is that we are cramming four to a room because there are too few rooms. I end up getting roomed with Virion, Lon'qu, and Vaike. This can only go well.

We enter the room and good lord, this is not a room designed to hold four grown men. It's barely designed to hold two, by the look of it. Two very modest beds, one table shared between the two of them, and a couple simple wooden chairs are the extent of the furnishings, probably because the room itself is too small to hold much more than that.

"How the hell are we gonna make this work?" Vaike asks.

"I've dealt with worse," Lon'qu growls.

A realization hits me. "We haven't actually spoken yet, Lon'qu. I'm Randall," I say, extending a hand to him.

He looks at my hand for a moment, then clasps it. That's a swordsman's grip, for sure. "Duly noted," he says.

"I take it you were recruited to the Shepherds back in Ferox?" I ask (would that count as a rhetorical question in my case?).

"Correct."

I have to say, talking to the man is pretty difficult. There's brevity, and then on the next level there's Lon'qu, it seems. "Well, I'm glad to have you. I've heard a thing or two about your skill with that," I say, nodding toward the Killing Edge sheathed at his side even now.

"You heard correctly."

I decide that maybe I'll get to know him a little better later on. "So how are we going to make two beds work for four people?" I ask the group. My question is barely finished before Lon'qu has crossed to the corner and has staked his claim on one of the wooden chairs. He sits back and folds his arms.

Vaike laughs. "To each his own, I guess. Anyway, I don't know what you two will do, but… I got dibs!" he shouts, leaping across the room and landing, hard, on the far bed.

Virion and I exchange a look. Neither of us are willing to give up on this chance to have a bed, that much is certain. "Alright, but there will be absolutely no spooning, agreed?"

"But of course," Virion replies. "I wouldn't dare."

Despite the waking Virion's promise, the sleeping Virion seems to have some trouble following through. It seems like every few minutes I'm having to shoo him away back to his side of the bed as a hand wanders over to try and stroke my hair or something. Finally, I give up on getting to sleep with this clown, so I get up and leave the room as quietly as I can.

I pass through the inn's living room and out onto the street outside. Honestly, I'm a little relieved to find that no one else is up and about at this time. I'm only just now realizing this, but it's been almost two full weeks since I was in any given location alone. I seize this wonderful opportunity to think about absolutely nothing at all, taking a seat against the front wall of the inn and letting my mind go totally blank.

I don't know how long I sit there before falling asleep.

"Randy? What are you doing out here?"

Uuungh, just let me sleep.

"Randyyyy? Come ooooon."

Please, no.

"Poke, poke, poke," Lissa says, punctuating each word with a little jab in the forehead.

"Why must you do this?" I mumble, still not opening my eyes.

"So you are awake! It's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you, you know."

I open one eye, trying to adjust to the morning light slowly. "It's also considered rude to wake someone up by poking them in the forehead."

"Not if we have to get up anyway. Chrom wants us to get a move on. We need to make it back to Ylisstol as quick as we can." She wags a finger at me. "So let's get a move on!"

I groan perhaps a bit overdramatically. As I stagger to my feet, my spine pops a few times and reminds me that you're not supposed to sleep on the ground, leaning against a wall. "Jesu Christo, I could've picked a better position."

While I try to stretch out my poor limbs, Lissa says, "I could give you a massage later, if you like."

Oh no. No, I've read your support conversations with Robin, thank you very much. I know how this story ends. "I'll keep that in mind," is what I actually say.

The trip back to Ylisstol isn't really that special. Mostly it consists of catching up with some of the others as we go. I get a sense of some of the latest gossip ("Did you know Miriel and Kellam are basically spending all their time together now?"), and get acquainted with the newest recruit Donnel ("I think I'm gonna call you the Don." "Uh, alrighty then. Why?").

However, the whole party has this air of unease about them. War in its most intense form looms dangerously on the horizon, and no one in our group is old enough to have experienced the previous one on the battlefield. I figure most of them were really little kids when the last war was going on, so nobody really knows what to expect.

It's also really weird to be seeing all those Risen portals again. There weren't any in sight around Maribelle's villa, so I had kind of forgotten about them for a while. Here, though, they're pretty hard to miss.

Especially when one of them opens up and starts spitting out Risen at an alarming rate.

"To arms! Now!" Chrom shouts from the front of the caravan, and suddenly everyone is in a flurry of motion, preparing their weapons for battle.

My first Risen mission. Oh boy.

A/N: The second chapter in the space of a week. How about that, eh? But actually, I do want to know what you guys think of this chapter in particular. Do you like the more casual, character-relationship-building chapters, even if the plot doesn't move forward much, or is it better to just get on with it? Additionally, I might be interested in a chapter pre-reader, so if that sounds interesting feel free to PM me about that. As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!

Also, at the time of writing this, Birth and Re-Death has a follower base of over 140 and 75 favorites. I cannot tell you guys enough how happy it makes me that so many are enjoying my silly, doofy story. Thanks a ton 3