Birth and Re-Death

Chapter 23: This Chapter Contains Zero Jokes

"And you really think I'm ready?" I ask. This didn't go so well last time I tried using one of these. There's about half a Plegian wyvern captain at the bottom of Breakneck Pass that can attest to that.

Lissa sighs in exasperation. "For like the third time, Randy, yes. You've been practicing plenty, and I trust you now to only use it if you really know it's both safe and necessary." She hands over the staff.

I grip the Rescue staff tentatively. "Alright, if you say so."

She puts on her trademark grin, though I notice it's got a harder edge today than normal. "I do say so. You'll be fine, I promise. As always, best case scenario is we don't even need it in the first place. But it's better to have it and never need it than to need it and not have it, right?"

"That's fair." I do my best to match her smile. I should be excited about her confidence in me, but I can't shake this nagging feeling that's been digging at me since the battle with the Grimleal. Looking back on it, I didn't feel totally in control then. I let my desire for revenge on the guy that had killed me take over, and in the moment I killed him, I had a distinct feeling of enjoying it. That was a first. It's not like there wasn't a decent reason to feel satisfied with that particular kill, but it's definitely a step up from just feeling numb like I usually do when I have to take someone down.

It's not the end of the world or anything, but it was a wake-up call that these magical forces are beyond my firm understanding and shouldn't be played around with lightly. So even though I agree that I'm probably ready to use Rescue by now, I find I'm kind of holding it at arm's length.

"We'll do it. We can save her," Lissa interrupts my thoughts. When I turn to face her, I see her smile has faded, replaced by a hard-set brow and thin frown. She stares at me, as if daring me to contradict her. It's encouraging to see that unlike last time we spoke about this, she's not asking it like a question, but declaring it like a statement of fact.

Even so, I don't want her stressing herself out too much before the fight. I redouble my effort to keep the smile up. "Of course we can. We haven't come all this way just to fail now."

Despite my smile, her expression stays stern. Maybe I could have worded that a little better. I decide I'll give her some space for a while.

I pat her on the shoulder as I hop out of the medical supply wagon. "I'm gonna get some air for a bit. I'll see you later, Lissa."

"Yeah. Later."

"So… how are we going to get her down from there if not via Phila?" Robin asks.

It's not a bad question for her to ask, since she doesn't know the answer I'd actually go with, which is 'don't send anybody, just let her hop.' But I can't very well suggest that one just yet. She needs to know that there's a lot to gain by letting her fall, but as far as I can tell, the only way to do that is to have Robin hear the speech herself. How could I convincingly just predict out of nowhere that Emmeryn will give a war-ending speech off the cuff in the moment?

I'm aware, of course, that this means I am necessarily planning on most likely at least two runs of this. Unless we get an early Christmas miracle and she manages to jump, live, and we also don't lose any other fighters in the process of trying to save her, it can't be done in one run. This in turn means I need an absolutely ironclad plan to die. I've still got my Feroxi knife in my belt, so the method is secure, but now I need to make sure all the pieces fall into place for both of us to die without much difficulty. That means no healers near either of us to patch us up. As a result, the formation I worked out with her places both of us far from any other healers in the Shepherds, as well as anyone with an elixir or even a concoction-level vulnerary.

This also means that literally one day after promising that we'd be open with each other, I'm already having to lie to her to make sure my plans go my way. Just like I lie to Frederick, and Chrom, and Lissa, and everyone else. I have one of those brief moments of clarity where you see yourself for just a moment from the outside, and there's a flash of objectivity. And in that moment, I see that I am objectively the biggest liar in the Shepherds, and likely the world entire. Who else lies so fundamentally about who they are that their own planet of origin is kept secret?

Well, maybe Lucina. That's a start.

Still, while the lying about the origin story feels not great but largely justified, and keeping the respawning power under wraps even more so, keeping Robin in the dark on this feels worse. It felt for a while there like I might finally be able to be open with someone, but I had forgotten how much I still can't be truthful about. I can't tell her that I know the events of the game yet to come, because that would involve telling her that I know her and everyone else in this world as video game characters. I want her to be able to trust me, but it's possible I'm not really worth trusting. I lie at every turn, even to those I'd like to think are closest to me.

"Randall? Any ideas?" She's leaning over the table expectantly, and when I fail to respond quickly enough she flicks my forehead.

I growl in irritation. "How should I know? You tell me, tactician."

"We share that job now, remember? I think we settled on a nice 33-67 split, so that means you need to pull your weight too," she reminds me.

Even if it won't really happen when my own plans take form, I guess I still need to give her something for now. However, whatever I give her has to be sure to fail so that Emmeryn is pushed into giving that speech and making her big sacrificial moment. But what could be considered a guaranteed failure while also looking good enough for Robin? We really just need to hold up until Aversa places Risen archers with Emm in their sights, and then we should be good. But in order to force that to happen, it must appear that we are about to save her. And unless there's a handy staircase up the side of the execution spire, there's only one option: someone's got to fly up there.

"I don't see there being any way to get up the spire from the ground. I can't imagine they won't have that door locked tight," I say. "Even without Phila, we may still want to use an airborne approach. Either that or have Gaius escorted to the spire, but that may be a much harder sell. And there's always the possibility it doesn't have a door at all, and we'd need a flier no matter what."

It seems like Robin is thinking something similar. She replies, "When the fighting begins to wane and victory is in sight, we could send either Cordelia or Sumia up there. They're deft fliers, and they won't be suffering from the same fatigue that Phila and the others will be, so even if something unexpected comes up, they should be able to avoid it, right?"

I don't like this plan, even if I know it's a decoy plan. It's putting my friend in harm's way, knowingly sending her to either severe injury or death.

But it does make sense. As long as you make sure that you and Robin can both die reliably, you won't have a repeat of Breakneck Pass. You can keep control. Just make sure that happens. Make absolutely sure.

"I don't like it. It basically makes whichever one we send up a sitting duck in front of everyone. We have to make damn sure that all ranged attackers are taken down before Sumia or Cordelia heads up there, especially if we're sending most of the pegasus guard away from the battlefield," I say. "You sure about this?" Under my disingenuous protest and question, though, I know that if we go through with this, it's actually more important that just the opposite happens. That someone does get hurt.

"No, I'm not. But what else can we do?" Robin says, and she's more right than she knows. Making sure Emmeryn demoralizes the Plegians saves countless lives, and now I'm the only one who can make sure that happens while also hopefully saving the Exalt as well.

But I can't bring that up yet. "You're right. It's the best plan we have," is what I actually say.

"Alright. That should be everything, then. And you're sure about this formation as well? It mostly makes sense to me, but why have such a distance between us and the other… oh. I understand. You want an easy out if things go south," she says, eyes widening in understanding.

"Can't be too careful, right?" I reply sheepishly.

She nods. "A pretty smart idea, actually. I did say we should be prepared to die, after all."

I laugh nervously. "Yeah, you did." A lie hidden under another lie. Even if the first is uncovered, the underlying one remains. And she only scratched the surface.

Jesus, did that put me in a bad mood. I lie awake in the barebones camp, left mostly packed up in case any Plegians venture north to meet us before we can get ready to go. No black tent flap tonight, just sleeping with almost everyone on a massive communal tarp under the stars. Everyone is in full armor, and there are half a dozen people on watch at a time. By some miracle, I'm not assigned to any of the watch shifts for the night, so at least in theory I could get some good sleep. By morning, everyone will be ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The exception is Robin, who despite having dismissed me is still working under lamplight in her own tent, going over the plan over and over to make sure she's ready. I'm not so eager to memorize this plan, since I know for a fact it will change at least once.

"Feeling okay about tomorrow?" Stahl asks, lying beside me.

"Not even slightly, but we'll see. You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take, right?" I reply.

Silence for a moment. Then Gregor pipes up on the other side of me, "Just checked math in head. Is true. You cannot make shot if you don't take shot. So zero percent chance it happens." A couple people laugh.

"Even so," Chrom says maybe ten feet away, "that isn't the right attitude to have. We will save Emmeryn. We will stop King Gangrel. We will end this war and take our country back. So don't just feel 'okay' about tomorrow. We must all decide to feel absolutely sure about tomorrow. Because victory is the only choice we have."

"Wow," someone whispers somewhere else. I think that was Cordelia.

And really, there's not much else to say. Inspiring as all get out, but damn if that doesn't kill a friendly conversation. Which is fine, because I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now anyway.

A thought occurs to me. What if giving Emmeryn a potential failsafe in the form of that magic sheet takes the wind out of her own sails when it comes to sacrifice? I mean, will she use the magic sheet at all? Or worse, if she does use it but doesn't try to sell the Plegians on giving up the war, will it have been worth it? I realize I'm counting on Emm being about as deceptive and underhanded as I am. I don't know much about who she is personally outside of her in-game messiah complex, so I can't really say either way. Even if everything goes my way, there's a chance she simply won't go for it.

Deep breaths. You'll never make it through the day if you don't get some rest. After making sure I've got both my Mend and my Rescue staves ready to go, I spend a couple minutes distracting myself by staring at the stars, wondering if I could connect them into a constellation. It's the right mix of relaxing and monotonous, and it helps take my mind off everything just enough that I can trick my brain into allowing my tired body to sleep.

I'm doing the right thing here, right?

"Of course you're not."

"Oh good, it's you. And here I was starting to wonder if maybe you just haunted that tent and would leave me alone if I slept somewhere else."

"A lovely thought, but I'm afraid your sins follow you everywhere."

"The spitting image of Christian mercy, you are."

"Mercy is for the penitent. But to be penitent you must first resolve not to sin again. Yet you doom others time and again for your own aggrandizement. It's sickening to the core. You have no intention of stopping this."

"I'm trying to save lives here, you know."

"You're trying to be a hero. A big damned hero that will win the day and be the center of everyone's adoration. You can't lie to me."

"If doing what I can to make sure that Emm survives and the war still fizzles out makes me a self-serving jackass, then I guess I'm content to be one."

"You're still a liar. A liar and a fiend who plans to use the life of his supposed friend to cover his lie."

"There's no cover! You think Robin would actually believe me if I told her the whole truth?"

"You wouldn't know, because you've never truly considered it. Why keep such secrets from them?"

"..."

"Because you're afraid they'll cast you out. When they learn that you played the game, that you know the script, that you know things about them that no one should know, they'll never treat you like a human again. You'll be abandoned."

"What's wrong with being afraid of that? Why is it so wrong that I don't want them to know these things about me?"

"Ask Sumia. Ask Cordelia. Ask anyone in the Shepherds, really. You plan to let them down tomorrow, don't you?"

"In a world we plan to leave behind! In a timeline that will never happen!"

"A world YOU plan to leave behind, and you alone. Robin doesn't intend to die tomorrow; only you do. You're alone with your lies."

"Robin agreed with the plan to make our deaths an option. She knows the risks."

"Does she really? Remember Breakneck? When you tried to die and couldn't? When your supposed failsafe fell out from under you. You and everyone else survived by luck, and by the skill of those more worthy than you. Certainly more selfless."

"That won't happen this time. I'm ready now. I've turned my own blade on myself before, and I can do it again."

"And I take it that's supposed to make it all better?"

"It's sure a start. We're not exactly in an easy situation in the first place."

"When does it stop being a game to you, Randy?"

"And here I thought I was Mister Randall, Mindy."

"I think we're well past that. And you ignored my question."

"Why do you even take Mindy's form anymore? You're pretty plainly not her, and you're not even pretending anymore. What's the point?"

"Does it bother you?"

"A little, yeah. I now have more memories of this shitty version of her than the real one."

"That's the point."

"You fucker."

"It's no worse than you deserve."

"Seriously, what do I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone?"

"You already know."

"Just leave me alone."

"Tsk tsk. And all you had to do was say please. But that ship just sailed."

"The day I'll plead with you for anything is the day I can sing "Rolling in the Deep" out my asshole."

"There's your answer. You're the one keeping me here."

Letting out a short scream, I sit bolt upright, sweating despite the chilly desert pre-sunrise morning. A few of the waking Shepherds jump in surprise and glance at me, and a few others wake up at the sound. However, no one says anything in response. I think everyone understands that nightmares are par for the course the night before a battle.

Even so, after I stand up and carefully step over the Shepherds and off the tarp, away from the rest of the Shepherds, I feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Maribelle.

"Are you alright?"

I shake my head. "No, no I'm not. Not today."

"Was it… them?"

I'm silent for a moment, deciding whether to answer truthfully. "...Yes. It was Mindy, er, Melinda. It's always her. But the one who lives in here," I tap my temple, "doesn't talk the way the real one did."

"I… I see. If it helps, I understand what you mean. In my darkest hours, I experience something similar." She hesitates for a moment, but goes on, "I often imagine Isadora reprimanding me for failing to protect her family. For failing to act as decisively against the enemy as she and everyone else at the villa did. That she would hate me for it if she had herself survived." Before I can open my mouth, she continues, "I know what you'll say. That she loved me dearly and would never blame me for the death of her daughter. And to almost every extent I would agree. But that nagging doubt remains. The thought that I could have, and should have, done more."

"Actually, I was going to say that makes two of us," I reply.

She sighs. "We're both such fools, drowning ourselves in this mental self-flagellation, aren't we?"

"Trust me, if I knew how to turn it off, I would."

She hesitates for a moment, then places her hand on my shoulder. As she leans in closer to whisper to me, I can feel the warmth of her face radiating onto mine in the cold desert early morning, even with a few inches between us.

"Even if we were both the failures we imagine ourselves to be, that doesn't mean we must always be so," she says in my ear. "We will get better, more and more every day. I have already seen you grow so much since we met. And today we will show everyone how much we have grown since we were taken from Themis. We will save the Exalt. We will protect everyone."

I let out a short, incredulous laugh. "That's a tall order, duchess."

"I expect nothing less from the man I trained personally," she replies, slowly letting her arm drop and letting me go. "You know, you're the only student I've ever had. That makes you officially the best student I've ever had as well."

Reminds me of what I said over dinner back in Darrow Town. That she was technically on the best date she'd ever been on. On another day, it might have been a sour memory, but today it draws a smirk out of me. "Thanks, Maribelle. I think I'm okay."

We're interrupted by Robin calling from up ahead, "Hey Randall! Since everyone's up, we're about to head out! Come back in the command wagon for a minute, I want to make sure we're good to go."

"You don't think I can have a little moment here?" I call back.

"You can have your moments all you like when the Exalt is back in safe hands! Come on! We've got work to do!" she retorts.

I look back at Maribelle. "We'll, uh, talk later, okay?"

She nods, her expression muted. "Of course. I'll see you soon."

I start to walk toward Robin, calling back as I do so, "Robin, we've been over these plans like a million times. There's nothing left to go over! Did you even sleep last night?"

"I slept enough, for your information. Perhaps less than normal, but enough," she replies.

Regardless of my irritation, I join her again in the command wagon. Waiting inside are Chrom, Sumia, and Cordelia, the latter of whom is currently attempting not to look at the former and is wearing a bright shade of red just being in an enclosed space with him.

"I just got done briefing these three on the plan as far as extracting the Exalt goes. Basilio's men are on standby to liberate the pegasus guard and escort them back across the Ylissean border, where they will hopefully join us after we are done here. From there, we will move as one to retake Ylisstol from the Plegians." Robin turns to the pair of pegasus knights. "Are you clear on your part in this plan?"

Cordelia salutes dutifully, with Sumia copying her a second later. Cordelia speaks up, having apparently managed to put her bashfulness on hold for duty's sake. "Yes, Robin. Once Captain Chrom gives the signal, whichever of us is closer is to move in to collect Exalt Emmeryn and bring her back to the ground safely, while the other follows closely behind to cover the extractor."

"R-right! What she said!" Sumia adds, trying to match Cordelia's forceful tone and doing a quarter-decent job of it.

"Excellent. Randall, is there anything else?" Robin asks.

All eyes in the room turn to me. I have nothing. Honestly, I can't even really look Cordelia or Sumia in the eye at the moment. "Just… let's make this happen, I guess."

As we approach the capital, I wonder how on earth we haven't raised any alarms yet. Is literally every soldier stationed in Golgotha down in the courtyard to watch the execution? I know they call him the Mad King and all, but this is just irresponsible. Not that I'm about to complain about it; makes our job a hell of a lot easier.

A voice rings out, cutting through the mid-morning heat and reaching us as we draw closer to the courtyard, "Good people! Warriors of Plegia! Welcome! Welcome, one and all! Your anticipation electrifies the air!"

I realize it's been a while since the last time I heard Gangrel's voice. Last time I was in his presence, he was threatening Maribelle with imprisonment and torture. I feel hot anger rise in my throat at the memory of it. The leather in my gloves squeals as I grip the metal shaft of the Mend staff in my hands.

As his speech continues, I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Randall, are you alright?" Robin asks.

I take a deep breath. "I will be, once we dismantle that guy."

"Easy there. Don't forget what our real goal is today. If there's only the chance to do one and not the other, I need you to be ready to commit to the rescue."

I grip my staff still more tightly in my hands. "I know. I'm fine. Let's do this."

"Finally, we will have JUSTICE!" Gangrel shouts to his men. "EXECUTIONER! If you would be so kind…"

That's her cue. "Flavia!" Robin shouts.

"I've got him!" The khan cocks her arm back, and when she hurls her axe, it's not unlike a trebuchet in terms of strength and distance. Even with the executioner so distant from us, and so close to Emmeryn, it's a statistically astronomical bullseye, and he falls from the spire. Despite that I know from the game that it happens, to watch it with my own eyes is awe-inspiring.

"EVERYONE! NOW!"

No time to think about that. It's party time.

Because we're the ones doing the attacking, and the onus to make movement happen is on us, we have to abandon our usual strategy of forming a line of heavy defenders guarding a line of ranged attackers and healers and instead rely on speed and mobility for our advantage. Since we have both ground troops and wyverns to contend with, we've separated most of the Shepherds into smaller teams that each have either an archer or a wind mage for air control as well as heavy hitters and other mages to deal with ground cavalry. Our speedier melee attackers are specifically slated to go after the enemy dark mages, as they've had the most consistent track record against them so far. Well, aside from me, as it seems so far that I can't really be harmed by most underling mages, but I'd rather focus on healing today.

To that end, my team consists of myself, Virion (whose elixir has been given to Ricken for today), Kellam, Miriel, Frederick, and Robin. Our team is bigger than most of the others to allow us to be the punching aggressive unit. Of course, Robin and I being together is also for the purpose of double assurance that we can die if (when) the need arises.

Contact. The Plegians are well organized, and their strike is coordinated so that the ground troops and the wyverns hit at the same time. It seems that even though they were all pretty absorbed in the execution a few minutes ago, they must have been warned that they should expect intervention today. As a result, it's an immediate and total onslaught, but fortunately that's what we planned for. While Frederick covers Virion as he's taking shots at the wyvern riders, the rest of us are huddled behind Kellam, whom none of the enemies seem to see until it's too late and they've already smashed into his shield. In the moment of disorganization that follows, Robin and Miriel are quick to turn that momentum completely around. Meanwhile, my role is almost exclusively to keep Kellam on his feet while he takes the brunt of the punishment. Though Frederick is taking hits as well, he's more adept at redirecting the momentum of the wyvern riders' charges and countering rather than simply letting the enemy clash with him. The inherent flow of mounted combat must contribute to this style of fighting. It's truly impressive to watch, even after this many battles together, but it is somewhat inhibited by the sand keeping his horse's mobility down.

A few of the enemy bust past Kellam to try and get at Miriel and me, but Robin is quick to draw one of her swords and counter the enemy. Even so, there's only one of her, and Miriel doesn't have any tools for up-front defense, so I step in to lend a hand as well. I take a swing at a merc's head, and even though I hit his headpiece, it still sends him reeling. Miriel takes the opportunity to fry him where he stands. He drops, smelling of charred meat and burnt hair. No matter how many enemies I see get dispatched with magic, I never seem to get used to it.

Still, I won't protest what works, and this certainly seems to be working, as we are able to advance downfield without really breaking momentum. Thanks to the Physic staff that Lissa brought to the fight, she's able to keep at a decent distance from danger while keeping her squad in order, while Anna's sword skill keeps her safe, and my ability with attacking with my staff, while not exactly perfection, is at least serviceable.

Maribelle, on the other hand, faces the double whammy of having no significant attacks coupled with Fleur-de-lis being bogged down by the desert sand. If there's any healer to worry about, it's definitely her. Even so, the fact that Robin and I need to be able to keep our distance from other healers conflicts with my desire to make sure she stays safe. Even with Chrom, Ricken, and Vaike to watch over her, I feel compelled to be ready to leap to her aid if it proves necessary.

"Randall!" Robin shouts, gesturing to Kellam, who just took a major hit to the thigh with an enemy lance.

No time to get distracted. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and rush to Kellam's side, patching him up and just barely getting out of the way before another lance soldier tries to run me through. Good God there's a lot of these asshats. The game did not give an accurate impression of what literally storming the capital city of the enemy nation would be like, if you can imagine that.

Fortunately, I can see in the distance, they also didn't give an accurate impression of how much help we have either. Even though most of the Feroxi forces went the long way around and never met up with us before today, they're undeniably making an impact on the field now. It seems that the Plegians are having to defend themselves on all sides, which will definitely help with keeping up the pressure.

Another guy busts past Kellam, making a beeline for yours truly. Frederick and Robin are too busy fending off other guys to help, so it looks like I'm on my own for a moment.

I decide my best choice is to surprise him by taking the offensive right away. I take a wide swing at him, missing his body but connecting with his lance and batting it off-balance and away from me. Looking to close the gap so he can't use his lance effectively, I step forward and take a swing at his head with my fist. Unfortunately, he ducks just in time for me to hit his doofy metal helmet instead. An instant wave of pain washes over my hand and forearm.

"You fucker," I hiss as I grab his shoulder and throw a knee into his crotch. I know it's not exactly fair fighting, but my hand is in enough pain that I can't be bothered to care. He convulses in pain, doubling over. By now Robin's free to step over and stab down through the back of his neck. That's the end of him.

"LOOK OUT!" we hear from upfield. Looking to the source of the shout, I see Gaius waving in a panic as he chases desperately after a pair of dark mages that have broken past him and are heading our way.

One of them casts a spell that smashes into Kellam before I can leap in front to take the hit. He goes flying back, crashing on top of Miriel and taking both of them out of the fight for the moment. The second one follows up quickly with a blast of magic aimed at Frederick's horse, striking it in the leg and causing it to fall onto its side. There's a shout of pain from both Frederick and Virion as the horse's torso crushes each of their left legs under its armored weight.

Just like that, two thirds of our squad has been taken down. God damn are these capital mages good.

Their approach continues unabated, and they both target Robin first. They must assume a healer like me would be pretty helpless if the rest of his protection were dispatched first. Even so, when the first blast comes flying her way, I'm in a suitable position to dive in front and take the hit. It flings me back, and I land just in front of Robin, who's quick to give me a hand up before letting loose a retaliatory Elthunder blast back at her with such fury that her hood flies off and her hair blows out behind her.

Wait, her? I clutch my chest; that's definitely a Nosferatu tome that hit me. Is that mage…?

The mage in question stops short even after dodging the Elthunder, her eyes visibly widening. Beside me, Robin is readying another blast, but I hold out an arm to stop her.

"R-robin? Is that you?" Tharja asks, so quietly she can barely be heard over the distant din of the fight.

Robin gasps. "Do you… do I know you?" she asks urgently.

The other mage fires a blast at Robin, and though it hurts like hell to take a second hit in this short a time, I let the Flux magic hit me instead. Before either of us can counterattack, though, Tharja is already on him, unleashing a point-blank Nosferatu spell in his face. The moment he's dead, she turns back to Robin and rushes toward her, pushing me aside to make way for her to throw her arms around her.

"Robin! Robin, I've found you!" Tharja cries, looking about ready to burst into tears from the emotional overload.

At first alarmed, Robin takes a breath to calm herself. "So you do know me. I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

"It's me! It's Tharja! Don't you remember all the times we played together? All the secrets we shared?" she asks, a desperate tinge to her voice.

By now Gaius has caught up with us. He stands beside me, watching the scene unfolding in front of us. He raises a brow at me, and I shrug in reply. This is all new to me too.

"I'm sorry… Tharja. I had an amnesiac event. I don't remember much of anything before a few months ago," Robin explains. "But we have to get back to the fight. Will you fight with us?"

Tharja's eyes burn with intensity as she finally lets go of Robin. "Of course. As long as you're with me, Robin."

Remembering myself, I rush to Kellam and heal him first, as I didn't see how badly he was injured. Though the healing was successful, he's still down for the count, so I have to pry him up so that Miriel can get out from under him and his heavy armor.

After I give Miriel a quick touch-up healing, she kneels over Kellam and says, "I will stay with him until he awakens. I trust this new admittance to the fold can take my place in Robin's strategy adequately?"

I nod in understanding; as much as it sucks to lose two people in one go, it's more important that they stay alive. I move over to the pair still struggling to get out from under Frederick's horse. Extending my staff to the panting horse, I realize I still don't know if healing staves work on nonhuman animals. Fortunately, as the magic streams out of my staff and circles the horse's leg, it seems they do. After that, it's a matter of Robin and me pulling the horse up enough to allow Frederick to pull himself and Virion out from under the horse.

After a minute or so, everyone except Kellam and Miriel is ready to go. However, as we turn back to the fight, it's clear that this whole debacle has put us far behind the other groups. Chrom's group is far enough that they've been reduced to hazy figures in the distance. Even so, from here I can see Maribelle's big curly hair towering over the rest of her group from atop her mount.

We start booking it down the field, trying to close the gap, but before we make significant progress, I spot a few more shapes that draw my attention. It looks like a few wyvern riders have taken to the sky from the fortresses south of the courtyard and are looking to engage us from the east. They circle north to try to get behind our lines and hit the more vulnerable targets.

"Virion, take them out!" Robin commands urgently. "It looks like Ricken's too caught up with the ones in front of the group!"

"They're out of my range!" he replies, and just like that, panic sets in. My run turns to a sprint, as does everyone else's as we desperately try to get close enough to help. Though we all scream for them to notice the new enemies behind them, they must not hear us over the din of their own fight.

Even so, they do notice, but not quickly enough. Vaike dodges the strike meant for him, and Ricken manages to knock one of the riders off his wyvern with an Elwind spell, but Chrom isn't able to get around Fleur-de-lis' large and ungainly form until it's too late and the rider has gotten a swing off.

A second later, Maribelle falls from her horse.

"MARIBELLE!"

As we rush closer, Ricken and Chrom both kneel over her, with Ricken scrambling to get his elixir out of his pouch. However, as he pours it down her throat and even pours some onto her wound directly, it becomes apparent just from looking at Chrom's expression that it isn't helping.

"Come on Maribelle, come on, you're going to be alright," Chrom is saying as he gently shakes her shoulders while he holds her against his chest. "Come on, don't do this."

I move to try and use my staff, but I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn and see that it's Robin, with a grave expression on her face. She subtly shakes her head, then gestures with a look to suggest that we get some distance from the others.

"No Robin, there's still a chance," I say, turning back to Maribelle and taking a knee to get in position to try and heal her wound, which is an incredibly massive gash out of her torso, down from her collarbone and straight through to her heart. The momentum provided by a charging wyvern's speedy dive must give its rider a freakish amount of power in a well-placed swing.

Ignoring the enormity of the wound, I point my Mend staff and tell it to go to work. Still, even when I try to force the magic out with every ounce of my spiritual strength (and wear myself out a good measure in the process), there's no visible change.

Chrom glares at me desperately. "Come on, Randall! What are you waiting for?"

"I'm… trying…" I grunt, redoubling my efforts. The wound won't close.

"Randall, come on! Please!" Chrom shouts.

"I… I can't…" I have to admit at last.

"No, no you can't say that. You can't! Please don't say that! Don't tell me…" He turns back to her, and the first sob breaks through.

The hand is back on my shoulder. I understand.

I stand and start walking away from the scene with Robin.

"Where are you going?" Chrom demands as we retreat. I have no answer for him. "You can't run from this! Neither of you can run from this!" He sets her down, stands, and strides forward, grabbing my shoulder. "I thought you said you cared! That she mattered to you! That you'd take a blade to the chest for her! But now you won't even stand by her side?"

I don't know what to say. "Chrom, it's… it's over."

He looks almost dumbfounded. "What?"

"We tried to save everyone, and it didn't happen. I'm sorry."

His grip on my shoulder tightens painfully. I wince. "What about this supposed plan we had? The plan that you two spearheaded. Was this part of the plan?"

"Of course not. It wasn't a good enough plan," I say through gritted teeth as his fingers dig into my collarbone.

"That's not enough," Chrom chokes out as the tears return. "You can't just say it wasn't good enough and walk away. Come on. We were supposed to save everyone, weren't we? What happened to that?"

Robin places her hand on Chrom's. "Chrom. I'm truly sorry, but you need to let him go. We can fix this, but you have to let go of him."

"How do you plan to fix this, Robin?" he demands. "I knew you were a little distant and a little cold and calculating, but just in case you didn't know, human lives aren't replaceable! I never thought you were so unfeeling that you wouldn't understand this! There's no 'fixing' this!"

Robin's expression is hard to read. "Chrom. Let us go."

"Us? You and him, off to just abandon her, abandon us, and walk away? Is that what you want?"

"I have no time for this," Robin says, opening her tome. Everyone stirs at once, unsure whether to pull a weapon on Robin or not. "You'd better let us go, now."

"Or what, you'll attack me?" Chrom replies, clearly not thinking straight anymore.

She pulls a spell from the open page. Frederick holds his axe aloft threateningly, and a few others brandish their weapons at her for good measure. In response, Tharja pulls out a spell of her own and stands ready to defend Robin. Everyone holds that tense position for a few seconds.

Finally, Chrom lets go of me. "Fine. Go then. Get the hell out of here! You've already killed the one person I most wanted to keep safe." He turns back to Maribelle and falls to his knees beside her. He won't look at us as we walk away. Everyone else either stares at us or rejoins the fight, but no one tries to stop us anymore.

As we keep going away from the group, though, I notice Tharja has come with us as well, unwilling to leave Robin alone. That complicates things.

"Tharja. I need you on the front lines with the others," Robin says seriously.

"I can't do that. I won't leave you alone when we're in such a dangerous place," Tharja replies, draping her hands on Robin's shoulder.

Robin shrugs her off roughly. "Just go for now, please," she says, more forcefully this time.

Tharja stands firm. "I won't."

Robin sighs. "Fine. Randall, I'm… going back. Make sure I make it before you go yourself."

I nod a little numbly. "Okay."

She nods in return, opening her tome and drawing out a handful of magic. "Stand back, Tharja," she says.

"What are you…?" Tharja begins to ask.

Robin raises her arm and puts her hand against her head. I close my eyes and turn my head away as she releases the spell. I wait for the faint whump of her body hitting the sand before I dare open my eyes.

Tharja shrieks, frantically collapsing on the ground next to Robin and cradling her body. For my part, I turn away from Tharja and before I can give it too much thought, I pull the knife from my belt and place the blade against my throat. Before I can make the cut, though, Tharja is on me, grabbing my shoulders and spinning me to face her.

"What did you do? What did you do to her?" Tharja demands, fire in her eyes. This is very unlike the Tharja I'm used to in-game. I guess this is what the emerging yandere's unhinged side looks like.

I start to say 'nothing,' but before I can get the word out, she's already pushing me away and interrupting me.

"You did something to her. You brainwashed her. Hexed her! I can feel the darkness in you!" she cries, raising her tome and pointing her hand at me threateningly.

"The hell are you talking about? What darkness?" I demand in reply.

"Don't play dumb with me! I can see it plain as day! You… I'll kill you!" The spell in her hand glows more intensely, pulling in the ambient light around it.

I throw my arms up. "Go for it! That's what I'm going for anyway!"

She blinks. Then her expression hardens again. "I won't let you get inside my head!" she cries, throwing the spell into my chest. Despite my significant resistance, I can tell before I've even hit the ground that this wound is no joke. Not that I'm given all that much time to reflect on it before she's flinging another one at my prone form. And then another.

Nosferatu feels different from spells like Flux or Goetia. While those two are both essentially spells focused on decay and destruction on the fundamental level, Nosferatu feels more like someone hooked up a vacuum hose to my spiritual energy supply and flipped the switch. I convulse as my life force is drained out of me like water through a strainer, until eventually the will to live leaves my body and everything goes as black as the spell in her hand.

"So, back for seconds, eh? A little greedy, don't you think?"

"...Huh? What the hell am I doing here? Why aren't I waking up?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say it's because you're not awake."

"That's weird. Maybe Robin's already awake today, so she set the respawn point instead of me?"

"Do I look like I know or care? I'm not here to provide mundane answers like that."

"Yeah, I know. You're here to make sure I never sleep soundly again."

"Not quite. You keep dodging the issue."

"Which is?"

"It's not for me to say."

"God damn do I hate you."

"Getting warmer."

My eyes snap open and are greeted with the open sky, tinged with easterly light as the sun starts making its climb up from the horizon. I sit up, looking around until I find Maribelle. I breathe a sigh of relief as I see her shoulders slowly rise and fall with the breath of sleep. We made it back. We're okay.

I managed not to wake anyone up this time, so when I step over everyone to get some air, I do so alone. Figuring I'll test my theory that Robin is already awake, I tread lightly over to the solitary tent and pull back the flap. Sure enough, there she is, poring over her maps by lamplight and looking pretty miffed.

"Hey there," I say, causing her to jump. "How long have you been up?"

"I'm not sure. An hour, maybe? Come in, and shut the flap," she says without expression.

I obey and take a seat by her. "So, quick clarification on the rules of our power. What's it normally like for you when you have to go back?" I ask.

"Normally I have a brief period of a sort of dreamlike state. Sometimes it's a continuation of whatever dream I was having before, sometimes it's new. But I didn't experience that this time. Did something change for you too?"

I nod. "Usually I just snap straight back to consciousness, but this time I actually dreamed for a bit. I think it's because whoever wakes up first sets the respawn point, so the other one, when they respawn, goes back to when they were still sleeping. It's just jumping into the middle of the sleep cycle."

She places a finger on her chin in a thoughtful and very Anna-esque manner. "I do usually find you're already awake when I first wake up. That must be it. I'll say up front, I'm no fan of waking up straight away with no interlude. Regardless, we have other matters to discuss."

"Like your apparent bestie from the past?"

"Exactly. She could potentially be a significant boon for us if she's willing to join us, and she certainly seems willing."

"I'd damn sure say so. She's the one who killed me."

A pause. "I see. In that case, it seems we can count on her devotion."

There's a silence between us, as neither of us seems to want to bring up what happened with Chrom near the end.

Eventually I decide to speak up. "So, are you alright? You know…"

She nods, not looking right at me. "Yeah, I'm good. It was a little… strange, to see him get like that. I had come to suspect that he was in love with Maribelle, but I didn't think he'd go that far."

"I mean, you kinda went hard yourself. Threatening him like that?"

"It was necessary. We couldn't risk being detained or somehow sealing the events in stone. Getting away from them took priority, and if we were killed in the process, even better."

"I hope what he said didn't bother you. You know, about being cold and all–"

"It's fine," Robin interrupts, signaling that it's anything but fine. "He had just lost the woman he loves. It's sensible for him to lash out like that. I'm admittedly a little… distressed that he seems to think that of me, but there are worse things to be than unfeeling, I suppose."

I recall with some guilt that I thought of her in the same way not that long ago. "Like you said, he was lashing out. He didn't mean it."

"I know. Let's just focus on how we can do better this run." She smooths her hair out and refocuses herself on the map.

Deciding to play along for now, I say, "So we need a way to keep Maribelle safe. Of all the healers, she's in the most danger."

"Right. We need to rework our strategy. For one thing, I'll keep my hood down on the battlefield, that way Tharja will hopefully see me sooner and defect to our cause without taking out any of our soldiers."

"It's a good start. But let's also do this with the formation over here…"

As we trudge toward Golgotha, I find my mind drifts to what Tharja said before she killed me. She felt the darkness in me? What does that mean? Just that I can use dark magic tomes? That doesn't seem like something she'd freak out so much about though. Is there something more to it than that? Some kind of particular, extra-spicy darkness?

I can't help but chuckle at the edginess of it all.

Gangrel's speech interrupts my thoughts. I can't wait to knock that smug grin clean off his face one of these days.

Once more, Flavia makes the incredible throw to take out the executioner. It's good to see that some things don't change, despite their immense improbability.

And just like that, the battle is upon us again. We didn't actually change up our strategy much from the first run, with a few exceptions. Firstly, we lumped Lissa's group and Maribelle's group together. It's better for them each to have more protection as well as the ability to heal each other if the need arises. Just because Robin and I shouldn't be near any healers, doesn't mean every healer has to be similarly isolated, after all. And secondly, our group is putting some extra effort in to make sure we're near the front of the pack, keeping up with our speedy mage-killers; we want to make sure we reach Tharja as quickly as possible to avoid something awful like her killing Gaius or getting killed by him.

As a result, we're having some trouble keeping Kellam at the front of the group, and have instead moved Frederick to the front line, with Virion in the back on the ground rather than on horseback like last time. Kellam's role is now pretty specifically to guard Miriel (and in tight spots, Virion) rather than protect the group as a whole. In turn, my response to these changes is to keep closer to Frederick so that he can keep the enemy off my ass while I keep him and Robin healed up.

On deeper consideration, we really aren't using Kellam to the best of his ability. He's seeing comparatively little action and is generally hampering our group's pace. If we had trained Miriel on healing staves (I think we could, and when time allows we almost certainly should) it would be one thing, but as it is I'm having to keep an eye on the trio even as they fall farther and farther behind.

By a nice stroke of luck, though, we aren't being as thoroughly beaten down this time around. Maybe our push forward is diverting some of their forces behind us and toward the other groups that are following in our wake. It does make me worry for Maribelle and Lissa, but with a double-strong group protecting them, I hope things will work out back there.

Honestly, if anyone's in danger this time, it's me. Even with Frederick and Robin ahead of me, the more we push ahead, the more we open up our flanks to attack. And by 'our flanks' I mostly mean me. If it weren't for the fact that Frederick is actually keeping pace pretty well, I'd say Robin is being downright reckless with this strategy. I'm fending off attacks from both sides of me at odd intervals, and if it weren't for Miriel and Virion's covering fire, I'm sure I'd have been overwhelmed by now.

Still, it seems like the plan must have worked out, because there's Tharja, safe and sound, making a beeline for Robin when she spots her gleaming white hair.

"Robin! Robin, is that you? What are you doing with the Ylisseans?" Tharja asks, casually throwing a Nosferatu behind her to silence her partner when he tries to lob a Flux at us.

"It's a long story. But the Plegian army is the true enemy. Will you stand with me?" Robin asks.

"Of course," Tharja half-coos, grinning with a sinister edge. She glances at me, and her brow briefly furrows. "Just point me at the enemy, Robin. I have no particular loyalty to this army."

Now that we've got her, we can afford to slow down a little and let the other groups catch up with us. As we turn to help thin out the forces that went around us, I'm relieved to see that none of the Shepherds have fallen so far. Still, it's apparent that this strategy has taken its toll on them; the increased pace and the greater load of Plegians to take care of have left our front line looking pretty miserable. In particular, Kellam looks like he's about ready to drop.

And to top it off, we're faced by another wave of mages, due to the increased pace of our group forcing the mage-killers to work fast instead of doing a thorough job. So now most of us are having to duck and dodge to keep the magic barrage off us. For my part, I'm standing up on the front line to absorb some attacks and soak up some damage. Oodles of fun.

However, even I have my limits, and I can feel myself pressing up against them as I take shot after shot while our ranged attackers provide covering fire for the mage-killers, who are trying to close the gap.

Just when I'm about to fall to my knees, though, the barrage lightens up. Or wait, that's not quite right. It would be more accurate to say the blasts stop hurting so much, even though they keep coming. What the hell? Squinting in the bright sun to see what caused the change, I spot a person clothed in white standing behind the Plegian line, holding aloft a staff. Wow that person is pretty.

Oh shit! It's Libra! With all this Tharja panic, I had kinda forgotten about her-him. He's a man. A very pretty man. Don't get distracted by those eyes, Randy. Those damned pretty eyes. And that hair, flowing and shining in the desert sunli– no! Think about Cordelia or something!

Anyway, it seems he must have used his Ward staff to give me an extra boost to keep me going, which I greatly appreciate. Unlike with healing spells, I didn't even notice a ward being put up around me. It just sort of happened. In fact, but for a vague shimmery quality around my body, it doesn't really have much of a presence at all. Makes sense, I guess.

Meanwhile, Libra has already switched to using his other specialty: the axe he is currently mowing down mages with. Though he's just one person, he does throw off their rhythm enough that we are able to get the drop on them and take them down.

Libra yanks his axe out of his latest target, adding an alarming splash of crimson to his white monk outfit. He stands upright and turns to Chrom, who's come forward to stand by me and who looks a little confused. Libra bows reverently.

"My lord Chrom, brother to Her Grace the Exalt, I am glad to have run across your group!"

"You know me?" Chrom asks.

"Of course. All in the clergy are familiar with the Exalted family. Now let us thank the gods for allowing us to come together, milord. Oh merciful Naga–"

Chrom interrupts him. "Err, perhaps now isn't the time to pause for prayer," he says, his statement punctuated by Ricken shouting in the distance as he knocks a wyvern rider out of the sky.

"Right you are, milord. My comrades and I hastened to join the effort to liberate the Exalt as soon as we heard of the order for her execution."

"Comrades? Are there more of you?" Chrom asks.

Libra looks down for a moment. "Not anymore. Working our way through the Plegian countryside proved a quite difficult task. After all, a group of clergy as obviously Ylissean as us was sure to draw attention. We were slowly whittled away as we made our way west, and now only I remain."

Chrom bows his head respectfully. "I am truly sorry for your loss, er…"

"Libra, sire. And I thank you. Please, allow me to make their sacrifice bear fruit by joining your ranks and assisting with the Exalt's liberation!" Libra replies.

"Of course. We welcome any help we can get, let alone from such a clearly capable wo–"

Looking to save him from some embarrassment, I nudge Chrom in the ribs. He looks at me incredulously. I shake my head a bit to allow my own long hair to flow in the breeze and hopefully get my message across. Mercifully, his eyes widen in understanding.

"I mean, a formidable man of the cloth such as yourself is certainly welcome with us," Chrom stammers.

Libra smiles genuinely. God damn, even his teeth are gorgeous. "Many thanks, milord. Shall we get back to it?"

"Right," Chrom says, and we re-enter the fray.

With the addition of Libra and his Ward staff, the enemy mages pose a much smaller threat than before. Unlike the staff in the game, this real staff can be used quickly and repeatedly without breaking, it seems. Soon most of our front line is shimmering with magical protection, shouting triumphantly as we smash through their ranks of mages and melee warriors alike.

We're able to get back into the sort of order we like once we're clear of the sand and get back into the firmer rocky soil south of the courtyard. Organized now as one firm front line with the ranged attackers and healers behind, it seems like we've got this fight pretty much on lockdown.

Of course, because I dared to even think such a thing, disaster strikes. I had completely forgotten about the reinforcement regiment of wyvern riders coming from the north until they were already bearing down on us at full speed. Sumia and Cordelia barely have time to warn us that the enemy is closing in from behind before they make contact.

Thank God, Ricken is quick enough on the draw to snipe the one that was making a beeline for Maribelle, but that's just one of many, and more than one have taken aim at me. Though I block the first one's swing with my staff, it still knocks me off balance enough that the second one's swing hits me pretty firmly in the shoulder. I shout and drop to a knee, but before long Libra is at my side, putting me back in working order.

I spring to my feet. "Thanks, Libra," I say, stretching my arm a bit and preparing for when they loop back around to take another set of swings. It seems Plegian wyvern strategy is based almost entirely on the superior speed of a wyvern over other fliers. Rather than staying in one place and utilizing the wyvern's impressive physical strength, they prefer a hit-and-run strategy, never staying in one place for long enough to make easy targets of themselves. I assume they adopted this tactic as a means of countering the more agile pegasus riders of Ylisse, as well as their archers and wind mages. It's an annoying way to fight, but it certainly works for them.

The next volley of attacks barrels through, but this time with Libra's help I'm able to hold firm and stop them. They swoop past us and prepare to make their wide loop again, but before they get more than ten or so feet behind us, I feel a sudden flash of wild, intense pain to the back of my head, blinding me instantly and causing me to fall flat on my face.

"Brother healer!" I think I hear Libra shout, but as my hand drifts to the back of my head, the rest of the world's noises fade to vague fuzziness. I gingerly feel the blade of the hand axe to see how far the blade penetrated. I eventually settle on 'very fucking deep' before the heat of the desert sand against my face cools and fades as the rest of my senses fail.

"Hey there."

"Fuck off. Not in the mood."

"Aww, are you upset because you took a hand axe to the head and lost yet another run?"

"Yes. Now fuck off."

"It really seems like your head is a magnet for those things, doesn't it?"

"Twice is coincidence. If it happens a third time, then we can talk about patterns. Now please, just go away."

"But you keep replying."

"..."

"I mean, if you really wanted me to go away, you'd have stopped talking."

"..."

"Oops, I shouldn't have let that slip. I was kidding anyway. I'm here till you wake up, whether you have anything to say or not. So get comfy, because if you don't start replying, I'm going to start listing off all the ways you're a giant waste of flesh."

"..."

"Okay, here we go. Number one…"

Mercifully, I wake up. Looks like Robin must've gotten herself killed somehow too. I shouldn't have gotten separated from her in that last run near the end. I got too caught up with meeting Libra.

As I stand up and start trudging over to Robin's tent, it hits me how tired I already am. This blows. I open the flap and peer in at Robin, already rubbing her eyes drowsily.

"Sorry about that," I say as I shuffle in and sit down beside her.

"Don't worry about it," she sighs. "If it wasn't you, it was bound to be someone else. So now we need to remember to account for the wyverns coming in from behind. I'm starting to wish we weren't literally storming the enemy capital. I understand how important the Exalt is and all, but this is just absurd." She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Hey, we can do it, don't worry. We just need to take more factors into account, that's all," I try to reassure her, patting her shoulder kinda awkwardly.

I guess it half-worked. "Sure. Let's take another look," she says without a hint of emotion.

Okay, look. This battle is tough. Like, really tough. It's a long, difficult fight, and the enemy seems to only get more numerous as time goes on. It turns out, walking right into the enemy capital on the day that the king said the Exalt would be killed is exactly the recipe for a mismatched battle. They barely need to strategize; just with overwhelming numbers, it seems like they can smoke us.

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is, we lost the third run. We got pretty far, too, but once the second wave of mages hit, they caught the exhausted Kellam off guard and killed him with a double tap of Flux. So Robin and I went back and tried working on pacing to keep our fighters fresh enough to go on.

We lost the fourth run too. We almost got to the courtyard itself, but the wyvern riders pouring out of the forts on either side of the castle sandwiched us and killed Panne and Gregor. We need a slower, more careful approach to the courtyard to avoid getting flanked.

We lost the fifth run too. This time we didn't actually get that far, as Gaius got himself killed by the mages he was taking on after an attempted dodge had him slip on the sand and left him a sitting duck. We didn't really learn anything valuable.

We lost the sixth run too. The mages busted through our mage-killers and ganged up on Nowi, whose physical resistance is great but whose magical resistance is kinda mediocre. Certainly not enough to save her from that kind of onslaught. We need to be less demanding of our tanks and more reliant on our DPS guys.

We lost the seventh run too. This one was the most concerning, as it could pretty much be pinned on Robin's (and my) mounting fatigue. I wasn't doing my best healing, and she definitely wasn't doing her best field directing. We were pretty handily overrun.

We need to get this battle done before something happens that we can't fix.

When I go into Robin's tent on the morning of the eighth run, she's asleep sitting up. Just looking at a sleeping person gives me a headache. I flop onto the floor beside her and nudge her, to no avail.

"Robin," I slur, "wake the hell up. We gotta win a battle and shit."

Nothing. I nudge her harder.

"Robin, c'mon, it's game time. We gotta make a plan that'll save everyone's asses so we can go to bed later." I push her a little harder this time, but all she does is fall on her side and assume a head-in-arms sleeping position.

Looks pretty cozy, not gonna lie. No, don't even think about it. Once you've saved Emmeryn and everyone else, you can sleep all you like in the medical cart or something.

Robin stirs in her sleep, groaning uncomfortably. She squirms a little, as if trying to shake off insects from her skin. I tentatively grab her shoulder.

"Uh, Robin?"

She snaps awake, instantly grabbing my hand in a vice-like grip. With wide eyes, she stares at me for a full three seconds before finally taking a breath and letting go of me.

Brushing some sand off herself as she sits up, she says, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I was, uh, having a dream. It wasn't a nice one."

That's right, isn't Chapter 9 when Robin has her premonition of Validar coming back to life or talking to Grima or something? Maybe that's what happened.

"You alright?" I ask.

She takes a couple deep breaths and rubs her eyes before answering. "I think so. But it's increasingly obvious that we are losing our strength with each run."

"You're telling me. But if we can just get this goddamn battle over with, we can take some time to recharge."

She tries to smooth her hair out, then gives up after a few seconds. "You say it like it's that easy. It seems like every time we account for one problem, another crops up to take its place."

"Don't I know it. But we can't let ourselves be the problem either. Even if technically we could do this forever, we're really only looking at a couple more runs before we just can't hack it anymore."

"A couple? I'm inclined to doubt we can do more than this last one," Robin moans.

"Exactly. We gotta do it this time, so we can avoid actually just collapsing on the battlefield." It's really hard to be motivated enough for two people when I'm in this state.

She sighs. "Think one of our cavaliers would let us take a nap on their horse?"

I shake my head sadly. "I've tried it. No dice."

"When?" she asks incredulously.

"On I think the third run of the Grimleal. I even asked Panne. No takers."

She huffs. "Well that's disheartening. Let's just get ready to go, I guess." Her voice wobbles as if she's getting ready to cry. I know that's how I feel right now.

"Yeah, let's go." As we leave her tent, the morning sun greets me with a full force blast to the eyeballs, sending a splitting headache through the back of my head.

I hate the desert so much.

A/N: Hello all! Welcome to the first chapter after the official genre change. I've been considering it for a while, but it's been some time since the last time comedy was a focus of my story. I think it's much more fair to call it an adventure that occasionally cracks jokes than a comedy based on a quest.

So from now on, I'm going to try to be better about reaching out to those who give me feedback and at least thanking them for the effort if not seeking further advice. I do love interacting with my readers, but I'm not super great at starting conversations online, so it's something I want to work on. I just don't want people to think I don't take their thoughts into account; I totally do, and I appreciate it every time someone gives me their opinion.

Things in my life should be getting back to normal for a while, so hopefully more writing can happen. The semester has started, and I'm no longer working my jobs (or traveling in Europe, as was the case a few weeks ago). I hope that means everything can mellow out for a bit. (For those wondering, the law school admission test went very well, so your old pal is in a fine mood lately)

With the fourth chapter that breaks the 10k word count, I have a question for you guys. Do you like these longer chapters that cover a lot of ground, or do you miss the good old days of 4-5k chapters? I've been weighing the issue myself, and I still don't know one way or the other. Longer chapters of course take longer to produce and can be harder to digest on a first read, but they also can be kinda self-contained stories (like the battle with the Grimleal taking just one chapter, for example). I feel like this battle, which even with a 11.5k word chapter isn't done and needs a second chapter anyway, is a good time to bring up that question. What do you guys think?

As always, I have to thank the excellent Syntaxis for helping with beta reading, but this time around I have a second name you might recognize to thank as well: Mixed Valence, of Earthborne fame! He's been mega helpful as well with idea generation and editing, so they both get a huge thanks from me. And here is your out of context Syntaxis quote of the week: "I obsessed over this question in the science portion about the colon or something."

As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!