Birth and Re-Death
Chapter 16: The Sing-Along Special
The green-clad official is trembling, but fortunately the brisk trotting of the pegasus masks it despite his close proximity to the girl commanding the beast.
"Are you doing alright back there, my lord?" the girl asks cheerfully. "I know riding pegasi can be quite the bumpy experience if you're not used to it."
His throat is dry as he responds after a moment, "I am fine, thank you. No worries."
The rider's eyes are quick, surveying the flat plains and gentle hills in every direction for any signs of trouble. She has been trained well. Still, no matter how well one trains their eyes, it remains impossible to see what goes on right behind you.
This too is fortunate, Lord Aventine reflects as he slowly slides the thin dagger out from the folds of his robes.
"We should be nearly arrived at the old campsite, my lord," the rider says, making him flinch and almost drop the dagger. He tightens his grip, the knuckles of his hand whitening.
"That's good, that's good," he says. He holds the blade out of sight until he notices the pegasus slowing down.
"We're here. What sort of documents are you looking for, by the way?" the rider asks as her mount comes to a stop.
Without another word, while she is distracted with the reins and stirrups, Lord Aventine snakes his hand over her shoulder and quietly opens up her unprotected throat with the dagger. The rider grabs at his wrist, but it's too little, too late. Her strength is rapidly fading, and within seconds he wrenches his arm free of her grasp. No longer held up by the stirrups, the rider slides off the side of her mount and collapses to the ground.
The pegasus rears up in alarm, realizing what's going on, but Aventine anticipated this problem too. Though difficult, he manages to keep his grip on the mount and not fall off. He pulls himself forward as much as he can to get in reach of the beast's throat and, with a few jabs and slices, makes quick work of it as well.
Not much of the skill he cultivated in King Gideon's mad war on Plegia remains after years of atrophy, but some of that old muscle memory cannot be forgotten.
Dismounting the wheezing pegasus, he kneels down beside the rider, whose eyes are still wide in panic. Her hand fumbles uselessly at the clasp of the small pouch on her belt that contains a bottle of vulnerary; blood loss and lack of oxygen have robbed her of the strength to get at the bottle at all, let alone lift it to her mouth. Her other trembling hand reaches as best it can toward Aventine as he leans over her.
"I am truly sorry," he says, but as her expression remains unchanged, he can't be sure if she's registering what he is telling her. "It was never my intention for things to come to this. I know that must seem hard to believe from where you lie now, but please try to believe that this is the truth." Her eyes roll back in her head, and with a light thud, her skull hits the hard-packed soil of the country road.
He stands a moment later, looking down at his robes, once green, now stained with blood into an unappealing brownish color. He briefly considers attempting to hide the body, but thinks better of it when he recalls that unless he were to move the pegasus as well, which he cannot do, it is largely pointless. Instead, he bends over and loosens her belt, taking the vulnerary and thin rapier strapped to her waist and hanging them from his own belt.
He remembers the usefulness of vulnerary in countering the worst effects of dehydration, should it come to that. A few desperate scrapes in the last war come to mind, after the peasant conscriptions led to massive food and water shortages.
He cannot go back to Breakneck Pass, regardless of who comes out on top in the ambush. The ambush that may very well not be an ambush after all, he reflects, after that encounter with that healer. Randall, was it? How on earth did he know so much? There must be more at work than meets the eye. Perhaps that Roseannean nobleman is the source of these troubles. After all, he lost an elite captain mere nights ago in a rendezvous that should have resulted in his death. How much help had Virion had in evading his fate?
His thoughts are interrupted by a dry, raspy laugh. "Keh heh, what's this? The scene of a grisly crime?"
Aventine struggles not to roll his eyes. A Grimleal priest, along with his entourage. A symbol of everything King Gideon had hated. Not without reason, either; these priestly types from Plegia are (so far at least) without exception unsavory figures at best. Behind the priest and his attendants, Aventine can see down the hill that a large Plegian force is moving east, no doubt having broken through the western border and already looking to spread farther into Ylisse.
"Hold, Grimleal. I am a friendly," he says, doing his best to keep the disdain from his voice.
"Ohoho, Aventine, we know who you are," the priest responds, his grin contorting his face in an almost reptilian way.
"I prefer Lord Aventine, actually. I still hold my land titles, even after this deal I have with your general." Despite the fear he felt in Breakneck Pass, his killing of the pegasus knight has begun to revive the old soldier from the grave, along with some of his old confidence. That, and his antipathy toward the Grimleal religion has steeled his resolve.
"Is that so? Well, I prefer Father Chalard, as long as we are insisting on titles here," Chalard replies. A couple of his men chuckle.
"Well then, Father Chalard, I request to be taken into the care of your men," Aventine says.
"Keh heh, that's a funny way to word it. Officially speaking, you are being taken into custody. We have orders to deliver you to General Mustafa, at which time I'm sure you'll be treated with the utmost care. Until then, you're a prisoner of the Plegian army, and will act like it," Chalard says, eyes narrowing in sadistic glee.
Aventine sighs inwardly. Power plays and grandstanding at a time like this? But there's no helping it. "Fine then, if it makes you feel better, place me under arrest."
"Place me under arrest...what?" Chalard asks expectantly.
"...Father Chalard," Aventine says through gritted teeth.
"There we go," the priest says while one of his men gets a length of rope ready to tie up the official.
"Oh, come on, live a little!"
"I'm living just fine as I am, thank you very much."
I scowl. "But if it's just me doing it, no one else will join in."
"No one else will join in anyway! You and I are the only ones who know any of these songs," Maribelle reminds me, with a 'tsk tsk' movement of her finger.
"They'll learn! You learned pretty quickly, as I recall," I protest.
"...Alright, I will at least admit that they're fairly easy to pick up."
"See? It's a good idea! And let's be honest; these guys need a little cheering up after all the crap that went down back at Breakneck." I personally am doing pretty alright, considering recent… developments, but I've still noticed the mood around the caravan for the last day or so has been less than jubilant.
She considers for a moment. "...Maybe. It is a stressful time for everyone. I suppose it couldn't hurt to try to loosen the others up a little." Her shoulders slump a little as she realizes she's allowed me to gain momentum.
"Exactly! So let's go teach 'em!"
"But do I have to sing in front of all of them? It seems a touch, I don't know… undignified? What if the others think it ridiculous?" As real as stage fright is, it's a little adorable to see her looking so shy.
"Psh, it'll be fine! I promise." I wave a hand. "They're our friends, after all."
She huffs, but can't keep a small smile from creeping onto her face. "Gods above… Fine. I will give it a try. But only because it seems so important to you."
"Woo! Thanks Mari!" I start rushing ahead to bring it up with Robin.
"You're welcome, Randy," I hear behind me.
"You want to have the Shepherds do what?" Robin asks.
"An evening of singing some songs together! I'll teach them some music from where I come from, and they'll all learn to sing them together. It would help boost morale once folks get into it, for sure," I explain.
"I don't know, Randall. There's a lot going on right now, and we need to keep focused." Her eyes shift off to the side.
"We also need to make sure nobody stresses themselves into an early grave. Yourself included. If your hair wasn't white to begin with, you'd have whitened it with all the worrying you do about every little move we make."
She frowns. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on the day-to-day operations of the group, and who else will do it?"
"Frederick?" I offer.
"Maybe… I just feel better doing it myself, alright?" she replies seriously.
"Fair enough, I guess. Anyway, you said not too long ago that you're glad I remind you to loosen up every once in a while. So this is me, reminding you of that," I say smugly.
She grumbles indistinctly. "I suppose since we're nowhere near any towns or major stops on the way to Ferox, there won't be anything terribly important to do tonight… If there were a time to do something so frivolous, it would be tonight. I'll tell the others, then?"
"Woohoo!"
We sit around the campfire after supper, packed tightly on this surprisingly chilly night. Must mean we're closer to Ferox than I thought. Altogether there's around a dozen of us crowded on makeshift chairs and fallen logs and the like. Maribelle sits on my right, and perhaps unsurprisingly, Frederick sits on my left.
I stand to address the group. "Okay, now this only works if we get a lot of people getting into it, alright? Okay, my guys, listen up. It goes like this for your part:
Listen, baby
Ain't no mountain high
Ain't no valley low
Ain't no river wide enough, baby!"
Maribelle takes a deep breath. Across the circle, Chrom gives her a smile and a thumbs-up. Always the positive influence.
"Alright. And then, ladies, your part goes like so:
If you need me, call me
No matter where you are
No matter how far (I throw in a "don't worry, baby" for good measure)
Just call my name
I'll be there in a hurry
You don't have to worry"
It only hits me just now that I've never heard Maribelle sing on her own before. Every time we sang in the Plegian hole, I was singing alongside her. Her voice leans a bit toward the alto range, and even as unsure as she is here, the tone is full and pleasant. It's a little funny that she somehow doesn't drop her dignified demeanor even as we sing such lighthearted stuff. In short: I like it.
Regardless, I jump in for:
"Cause baby there
Ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you, babe!"
We pause there to see what people think. Sumia and Ricken actually clap for us, which even in the dim firelight I can see reddens Maribelle's face a little. Stahl, Chrom, Cordelia, Donnel, and Robin all smile openly at us. Virion and Gaius nod approvingly. Panne had her eyes closed for the song, but a faint smile plays across her lips. Sully doesn't seem to react one way or another. Frederick either didn't like the song or doesn't like me; either way, he's scowling.
Vaike, meanwhile, isn't content to keep his thoughts to himself. "So, uh, when's the baby due again?" he asks, grinning like a fiend.
I shoot him a glare, but Maribelle gets to him first, getting to her feet quickly. "Ugh, Vaike! I have known you to be a base oaf before, but must you even spoil an evening like this with such depravity?" Vaike visibly flinches, as do those sitting near him.
Now it's up to me to diffuse this. "Whoa, whoa, it was just a little joke, no harm done," I say, standing up myself and gently but firmly putting a hand on her shoulder. "That said, be cool, Vaike. Come on."
He raises a hand. "Gotcha. Sorry."
Maribelle looks like she wants to say more, but closes her mouth after a moment and takes a long, slow breath.
The pair of us sit down, and while the awkwardness that permeates the air doesn't leave for a few minutes, soon people are relatively loosened up again.
"Alrighty guys, let's hear it!" I call out, and we start again.
It's a little surprising to see which Shepherds want to play along and which don't. Unsurprisingly, Lon'qu and Miriel have decided to sit this one out and are off somewhere. It's difficult to say whether Kellam is here with us or off with Miriel, but since I approve of either option, the matter leaves my mind quickly. Lissa's absence only hits me well after we've started, but I figure she's off doing something like bothering Lon'qu.
Among those that stay with us, Frederick, Virion, Sully, and Panne opt out of actually singing, content merely to watch (or in Frederick's case, glare). None of these really surprise me, except I guess for Virion, who I imagine is actually pretty good. Maybe he thinks this kind of music is below him?
I come up with a few more songs to teach them, but owing to the lack of instruments, my choices are somewhat limited. Fortunately, some of the others bring up familiar Ylissean songs to teach those that don't know them (so basically just me and Robin), and it ends up morphing into a sort of music exchange.
Chrom is an alright singer, not terrible and not terrific. Ricken, owing to his mid-puberty voice, isn't… great. Vaike, unsurprisingly, is both loud and awful, but he has so much fun with it that no one says anything. Stahl is (you guessed it) pretty average, both in tone and talent. Donnel has some trouble dropping his thick dialect enough to enunciate the words correctly, but it's passable. The real surprise ends up being Gaius, who may very well be the best singer in the Shepherds; that sweet tooth seems to have bled over into a honeyed voice.
Sumia's voice, like her general demeanor, is soft and sweet, relatively unassuming. Cordelia's voice is perfect, because she is perfect (in truth, she's skilled, but a little too mechanical about it, and doesn't let herself have enough fun with it). Robin, on the other hand, seems to put having fun first, and just lets loose; considering how much she's been stressing since her plan at Breakneck fell through, it's good to see her like this. She even let her hair down for the occasion, and it flies around with reckless abandon as she dances around.
What's also kind of funny to see is who's got their eye on whom while they sing, especially during our first song. The most noticeable is of course Cordelia, who only has eyes for our fair captain. A number of the guys in turn have their eye on her; story of her life, I'm sure. Stahl tries to make it seem like he's not looking at anyone in particular, but I can see him glance Panne's way every few seconds to see her reaction to the song, which remains muted. Vaike very consciously seems to be avoiding even looking in Sully's direction; one or both of them must still be sore about the other day.
The only truly innocent and flirtation-free souls among us are Chrom, Robin, Maribelle, and me, who all flit among the others to make sure everyone's having fun. Not that I don't send the fair troubadour a few sultry glances here and there too, naturally.
Overall, it's an evening full of laughter and song in equal measure. I can say without reservation it's the most fun I've had since I first arrived in Ylisse.
Eventually, things start winding down, and people begin drifting off in various directions, laughing or clapping each other on the back. Soon, just a few of us remain, Chrom among them. He turns to me.
"Hey Randall, I just wanted to thank you. I know it's no big deal and all, but I see what you're trying to do for everyone, and I appreciate it."
I shrug. "It seems everyone's got a lot on their minds, not least of whom is you. I don't envy your position, boss."
"I wouldn't either, were I you," he admits. "Still, we have been fortunate. We haven't lost Shepherds, and while war is brewing, every day that passes without battle is still a day to be thankful for."
"That's kind of funny. You strike me as the kind of guy who lives for combat, actually," I say.
"I live for training. I live for competition. I live for being ready, should the enemy appear at the gates. But if I could have a guarantee that no one would come after Ylisse, that the desire for war could be erased, I would gladly lay down Falchion for the rest of my life," he says seriously.
I nod. "I see what you mean. I misspoke before. I guess I just mean you'd have to find a new hobby."
He laughs. "Yes, I suppose I would. I'm not very good at playing the primped and proper noble, am I? Maybe I'd get into farming, or construction."
"Or leadership?" I offer.
"That's Emm's forte. I've always been content to follow her advice, and she's never led any of us astray. Of course, I question the logic behind her most recent move, but I've seen that fire in her eyes before. There was no stopping her."
Oh, buddy. That leadership mantle might very well be thrust on you anyway if things don't work out like I hope.
"I'm sure that things will turn out alright," is what I actually say.
He chuckles again. "That makes one of us. Anyway, thanks again, Randall. I'm going to head to bed."
"Night, captain."
He heads off to his tent, and I turn to make for my own when someone grabs my wrist and pulls me aside. In the dim light, it takes me a moment to recognize that it's Lissa pulling me away from camp. She isn't saying anything, which is exceedingly uncommon for her. It unnerves me.
At last, when we're at what she's decided is a suitable distance, she lets go of my wrist and turns to face me. I can tell even on this cloudy night that her expression is livid.
"I didn't want to interrupt everyone having so much fun, so I waited until you all were finished." Her voice is low, but threatening. "Alright Randy, I don't want to beat around the bush. What is a Rescue staff doing among your supplies?" She holds up said staff, which was in her other hand.
"What do you mean? Also, why were you in my stuff?"
"Princess' privilege, and don't play dumb. Why do you have a Rescue staff?"
"I just never got a chance to put it back in the medical supply wagon is all, sorry. I can put it back if you want. If that's all this is about."
"If that's all this–? Randy, when and where did you use this?"
I think I understand what's going on now.
"Yeah, I used it at Breakneck Pass during the battle, okay?"
"So what Kellam saw really did happen then… What on earth were you thinking?" She shoves my shoulder, hard. "You weren't ready to use that in a real fight! On real people! Our comrades!"
"I wasn't even planning on using it!" I lie. "I just brought it as a last resort precaution, just in case! You never know what's going to happen on a battlefield!"
"Yeah, but you're not listening. You. Were. Not. Ready! Answer honestly. Were you aiming for that Plegian captain when you cast that spell?" She's seething by this point.
I've already told so many lies, but for some reason I find I don't want to add to the pile anymore. "No, no I wasn't. I was aiming for Cordelia. That's why when the captain warped, he ended up losing part of his arm and leg. There wasn't the right amount of space."
She lets out something between a scream and a growl. "You moron! Do you understand how wrong it was to use that spell?"
I feel my temper rising to approach hers. "No, I don't, because it wasn't wrong. You know why? Because that captain is dead now, and Cordelia is not. That's because of me."
"Oh really? Is that why Kellam also told me you got dragged off a cliff, only to get saved by Cordelia in a massive stroke of luck?" Lissa asks incredulously. I don't have a response to that right away. "Do you get that if Cordelia hadn't gotten out of the way, you could very well have severed her arm, or her leg?"
"Possibly! But I also could have Rescued her correctly and gotten her out of the way of the axe that was coming for her skull!" I protest.
"The fact that you couldn't anticipate her moves alone shows me that you had no business using that staff, Randy. You're talking around the point. Do you even get why I'm mad, aside from of course that one of our comrades might have died?"
"There's more to it than that?"
"It's that you broke my trust, Randy. I was willing to train you, but that comes with the understanding that you use my training responsibly. Going off on your own, into battle, using half-baked skills that I taught you and putting my friends' lives at risk is not okay. It's super not okay. So yeah, I'm mad. And I'm sure not going to be teaching you more about how to use these, either." She brandishes the staff at me.
I smack it aside. "Oh, obviously that's the solution. If the problem is that I don't know everything I need to know about Rescue staves, then the solution is to never teach those things to me."
"Why would I trust you with more knowledge when you've already misused what little you've been given?" Lissa asks.
Some part of me, deep beneath the pride and bravado, knows I should apologize. But that little guy doesn't have a lot of sway right now. I mean, it was a pretty much perfect run, first try. No casualties on our side, a flawless victory. What more can one reasonably ask for? And even if something had gone wrong, it was just a matter of going back, right?
Except you tried to do that, and failed.
"Shit, shit!"
"The battle! Is it still going?"
"Is everyone okay? No one's harmed?"
And just like that, clarity hits like a truck. I wasn't in control. Not of the staff. Not the battle. Not even my ability to go back. I was wrong.
I still am wrong.
"You… You're right, Lissa. You're right. I screwed up." I swallow. "I was overconfident, and selfish, and it could have gotten Cordelia, or anyone, really hurt. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry." I look down, as I find I can't meet her eye.
For a few moments, she's still fuming, but she doesn't say anything. Just loud, angry breathing. Even that doesn't last for too long, though. "Do you mean it?" she asks at last.
"Yeah, I do."
"Can you look at me and promise not to do it again?"
I look her in the eye. I'm not used to her expression being this serious. "I promise. Nothing gets used before I'm ready to use it."
She nods. "And look, I do get why you did it. You want to be useful to the team. You told me as much. But sometimes the most useful thing you can do is trust your teammates to handle themselves, or to have your back. You get it?"
"Yeah, I get it."
She holds me in suspense for a second longer, then sighs. "Alright, fine. I'm no good at staying angry anyway, really, so it's a good thing you didn't take too long realizing what a dummy you were. Your next Rescue lesson is tomorrow when we make camp. Got it?"
I nod. "Got it."
She considers for a moment. "While I've got you here. Just so you know, if you break Maribelle's heart, I will have no choice but to skin you."
I can't help but smirk. "Duly noted." We start walking back to camp.
"Oh, you don't think I could do it, eh?"
"You could maybe do some of it, but I think I'm too tall for you to skin all of me. Or rather, maybe you're too short."
"We'll see about that once I knock you over, mister!"
"You still haven't answered my question, Mister Randall."
"What?"
"Would you be sad if we died?"
"Yes, then! Yes, I would be."
"'Would be'? Don't you remember?"
"Remember what?"
"You already let us die."
"Wait… that's not right."
"Are you confused? We were too, at first."
"I don't understand."
"You see, we were naive. We thought that you had come to care about us."
"What are you talking about, Mindy? I do care about you!"
"You don't. You say you do because that's easier than admitting that even after all of us died and you could have stopped it, you couldn't be bothered to care. Isn't that true?"
"It's not! I tried to go back! I did!"
"Yes, you did, but I saw your real reason. We aren't people to you. We're still… what's the term…?"
"You're not real. You're just a dream I'm having."
"Yes, that's right. Deny it all, just like that. We aren't people at all, are we? I was a fool to think you might have felt anything for me. I was a distraction, an entertainment. So was Jackson. So was my mother. My mother, and as she died you stood and watched."
"You're just a dream. You're just a dream. Get out of here. Get out of my head."
"You just watched. So sick, so desensitized. You just watched."
"GET OUT!"
"As you wish. Deny, deny, deny until you break."
Do you understand how wrong it was to use that spell?
No, I don't, because it wasn't wrong. You know why? Because that captain is dead now, and Cordelia is not. That's because of me.
My eyes snap open. The by-now familiar black tent flap stares at me. My throat is dry. I reach for my canteen and realize I left it by the fire earlier. I'm almost grateful for the chance to focus on that.
As I walk toward the ashen fire pit though, I can see I won't be alone.
"Cordelia?" I say in a half-whisper to avoid waking any of the others.
She turns to me quickly, startled. At the same time, she snaps shut a small book, but in the moonlight I can make out the title: Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight.
"A-ah, you, um... Your name is Randall, right?" she asks, very transparently attempting to hide the book.
"That's me," I reply, deciding not to tease her about the book… yet. I grab my canteen and take a long drink.
"You must be new to the Shepherds. I've never seen you around Ylisstol before," she says.
"Yeah, relatively speaking. Couldn't imagine why they let me in, though," I half-joke.
"I can tell you must be a positive presence around the others. Even with everyone worrying so about the war, you make sure everyone is keeping their heads," she says with a smile.
"You don't think it makes them think I'm just flippant and detached?" I ask.
She ponders a moment. "I suppose that's possible, too. But then again, plenty of them were willing to let you teach them music for an evening. Sitting out was always an option, but most of the Shepherds didn't take it. So I stand by what I said." I don't say anything for a bit. "That said, do you think you're detached?"
"Haha, I can't even tell sometimes," I laugh dryly.
"Well, if I may say so, I got a glimpse of your caring nature back at Breakneck Pass. You were willing to throw yourself from Hyperion rather than put me at risk, and you hardly knew a thing about me. That sort of selflessness doesn't come from detached people, in my experience."
"Well, that's not…" I don't like that she's misunderstanding why I wanted to fall, but it's also not an option to explain my real reason either. "I guess so." I find that I'm suddenly very tired again. "I think I'm going to call it in here. Gotta give the old vocal cords a rest. Thanks again for saving me, Cordelia," I say, turning back toward my tent.
"It was no trouble, Randall. Good night!" she replies, and I can hear the smile in the shape of her words.
As I get back into bed, I can't decide whether that conversation made me feel better or worse.
"Delivery for you, General," Chalard says, dragging Aventine behind him.
"Delivery?" General Mustafa turns around. "Chalard, what is my guest doing tied up like that? Untie him at once, and apologize."
"Yes sir," the priest almost hisses. "My sincerest apologies, Lord Aventine. All for appearances, you understand, I'm sure." Within moments, the ropes are gone. "Anything else, general?"
"That will be all, thank you. Please return to the king for orders."
"That upstart heathen? King Hartyr would be ashamed of what the country has become, left in the hands of that secularist Gangrel."
"Mind your tone, Chalard. You have your orders, now go." Grumbling, the priest obliges. Mustafa turns to Aventine again. "So, my friend. Dare I ask how the trip was?"
"Dreadful, as I'm sure you guessed. Why do we have to work with his type, anyway?"
"His type is necessary, I'm afraid. Gangrel isn't terribly popular with the religiously fervent ever since he walked back on some of the more theocratic principles on which King Hartyr based his rule."
Aventine sighs. "I see. A pity I can't put him in the ground."
Mustafa gives a half-smile. "Someone will, someday. Sooner than he thinks, no doubt. For now, there are more pressing matters on our plate."
"Any word yet from the east?"
The smile fades. "Yes, and none of it good. Captain Vasto's men were defeated handily, and the Exalt escaped uncaptured."
"There's something else you should know. At least one of the Shepherds knew about the ambush before it happened. He confronted me about it before Vasto's men arrived. I don't know how he got ahold of that information or from whom, which only makes it all the more concerning."
"Who was this knowledgeable Shepherd?" Mustafa raises a brow.
"It was Randell, or Randall, or something like that; I only caught the name once. A bearded priest with black robes."
"Then we will keep an eye out for him as well. Otherwise, it's time to proceed."
"Of course. Let's get to it."
A/N: Oooh, clandestine dealings~ So one thing I suppose I should get feedback on before I decide on the matter for sure is what you guys think of these long sections from other characters' perspectives. Do you like getting other people's POV once in a while? I'm considering having entire chapters that follow other characters, as that would help keep the voice fresh and of course allow me to tell the story from several angles, but I'm not dead-set on the idea yet. As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!