Birth and Re-Death
Chapter 45: Lucina Sees My Underwear
Cool. Pleasantly cool. I don't recognize this feeling. I'm lying on my side. Something soft presses against most of the front of my body. It feels nice enough that I just want to go back to sleep. I take a deep, sleepy breath.
The smell of citrus. That's weird. I don't even think I've seen any citrus fruit since I came to this world. Only other time I've noticed a smell like this was—
I open my eyes. White. More specifically, white hair. A lot of white hair.
I remember now. I fell asleep pretty much on Robin. And I guess we stayed that way through the night.
I become aware that my right arm is draped around her chest. She's hugging it tightly in place, both arms crossed over it. My left arm is stretched out under her neck, serving as a pseudo neck pillow. It's also very asleep, and I can't really move it. I look down and see that we were apparently sharing her rolled-up coat as a pillow. A glance down my body reveals that my coat served as our makeshift blanket. Robin takes a deep breath and fidgets a little bit. She's got both of her legs sort of wrapped around my right. One of her cold feet absently rubs my leg. I notice her hands are cold too.
I wonder if that's a result of her being the 'vessel of Grima' or whatever it's called. Like she has to have a slightly cold-blooded body to accommodate the reptilian dragon or something. Either way, I have to admit, it feels pretty nice. Normally I can't snuggle up with someone for too long or else I just get way too hot, but that's not a problem with her. I could stay like this all day.
Hold on there, pal. What do you think you're saying? Thinking. Whatever.
I have no idea what to do. Should I try to get free? Would that even be possible without waking her up? Even if I can, would that be better than just talking to her? She did me a kindness, after all, even if it's a little awkward now. She was there for me when I needed someone. When I couldn't face that news by myself.
An uncomfortable feeling rises in my chest, up into my throat. God. I'm not used to thinking of Libra that way. I've lost people before. Jackson, Isadora, Mindy, all my friends from the Patriots that didn't survive the battle at Southtown. But I was actually there for those events. I saw Jackson get overwhelmed. I saw Aversa holding Mindy's head. Saw her kill Isadora. I helped bury the Patriots' bodies myself. Their deaths were final to me. But with Libra, it's different. I was just told that he didn't make it. That I'll never see him again. And when I get back to Ylisstol, I won't even see a body. I'll see a headstone. I just have to accept that there will be a hole in my life where he used to be.
I pull Robin a little closer. She sighs and squirms a little, stretching her legs. Suddenly, she releases my arm and rolls over. Before I can react, she snakes her arms around me, one under my neck and the other under my right arm. I feel the coolness of her hands through the back of my shirt.
I gulp, feeling heat radiate from my face. Close. Too close! Her face is inches from mine. Whenever she exhales, the air shakes the whiskers on my chin. I lean my head back, craning my neck for some space. I try slowly scooting away, but when she feels me moving back, her arms just squeeze tighter, trying to pull me back in.
"Mmungh," she moans. "Don' go."
Okay. This is your chance. She's still mostly asleep. If you say something inconspicuous, maybe you can get out of this without her waking all the way up.
"I'm just gonna get us some breakfast. I'll be right back. Go back to sleep," I say quietly.
She furrows her brow for a moment, then relents. "Mmkay. That sounds good." She lets me pull away from her. Once I'm out from under the coat, she grabs a couple handfuls of it and pulls the fabric close to her chest.
I sigh in relief. Crisis averted. I stand up. Where did my boots go?
I turn around and—"AH!"—immediately nearly shit a brick. "Tharja! What the hell!" I shout before I regain my composure.
Of course, it's too late, and Robin shouts in alarm too, springing to her feet, somehow with her Elthunder in hand. Where was she keeping that…? "What? What is it?" she says, brandishing the tome.
"Sleep well?" Tharja asks with an infuriating smirk on her face.
"Ah– abuh…" I don't have an articulate response for that. Part of me acknowledges in that moment that yes, as a matter of fact I do feel unusually well-rested.
"You two just looked so peaceful. I couldn't bring myself to wake you," Tharja says, resting a hand on her cheek. "You looked so cute, Robin, all snuggled up like that."
"Sn… Snuggled?" Robin stammers. "What do you mean?"
"I'm so jealous," Tharja says dreamily. "I wish you'd throw your arms around me that way~"
"N-nothing happened!" Robin cries. "We were asleep! Totally asleep! We just, you know, woke up that way!" She looks at me pleadingly. Help me.
"Y-yeah! I was just really tired and upset and all, so I happened to fall asleep on her, and she couldn't really get away, so she just went to sleep too," I say. "Then we just woke up like that. Nothing happened."
"Hooh, is that so? Well, if you say so, I guess I have to believe you," Tharja says dismissively.
"You do! You do have to believe me!" Robin protests.
"That's what I said. I have to believe you." Tharja giggles.
"J-just get out of here!" Robin exclaims in an unusually high-pitched voice. She goes over to Tharja and starts ushering her out of the wagon.
"My, so handsy today~" Tharja says excitedly.
"Ooooout!" Robin shoves her out the door and slams it behind her. She takes a deep breath in and out before turning to face me again, looking more flustered than I think I've ever seen her.
"You alright?" I ask as she slowly comes back over to me.
"I feel like I should be asking you that," she says, her eyes set on the floor in front of me.
"What do you– oh. Yeah, huh…" As awkward as our encounter with Tharja was, it distracted me for a moment from why I'm here in the first place. "I, uh, I don't really know."
"I see." She fidgets uncomfortably. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… you know…"
I shake my head. "No, no. You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, I want to thank you. I don't think I've dealt with any of this stuff right." I look down at the floorboards. "So much has happened to me in the last few months. I got kidnapped. I made friends in the Patriots, only to see half of them die. I faced down memories of traumatic shit that I'd forced myself to forget. I feared for my life, really feared for it, for the first time since I came to this world."
"I can definitely empathize there," Robin says with a pained smile.
"And then," I go on, "I go through the roller coaster of finally coming back to my friends, only to find out Libra's gone. I think all this stuff, all the things I've shoved down and bottled up, just finally boiled over. If I hadn't had you here, I think I would've exploded."
"I… Gods, there's a million things I want to talk about with you. But I don't want to overwhelm you either. I'm sure you want to ease your way back into things," she says.
"I don't think I'll get much of a chance to ease into anything. I'm getting put on trial when we get back to Ylisstol, remember?" I reply.
"Only after Gangrel's trial is done. But you don't have to worry. No matter what Flavia says, I won't let anyone hurt you," she says, finally looking me in the eye. I'd never noticed the color of her eyes before. Normally grey eyes would come across as kind of dull or cold, but hers aren't exactly grey right now. They're silver, hard like steel. "I know you don't want me to blame myself for what happened to you, but I won't be able to go on unless you let me take responsibility for the things I could have done differently. So just let me promise you. I will never let you down like that again."
"You've never let me down before. But I won't stop you from promising anything," I say.
A few long, silent seconds pass. The awkwardness of our situation is still thick in the room.
"Uh, well, I guess I should say sorry, you know, for kinda… trapping you here," I say, desperate to clear the air. "I didn't really mean to."
"No, no!" she says suddenly, and loudly. "It's fine! I didn't…" she lowers her voice, realizing how loud she was just being, "…mind."
I can't help but start laughing. Robin scowls at me. "Sorry," I say. "I'm just not used to being back yet. Knowing that everyone here is my friend, and we're done with the war, and we're heading back to at least relative safety. Hell, just being with you again feels different. I don't have to be scared for my life anymore. It almost feels like I might be able to let myself relax again. I almost don't know what to do with myself."
Robin's scowl cracks, then a little smile peeks through. "You're right. I feel the same way. Gods, trying to plan a battle without any kind of safety net was just… awful. I don't ever want to have to do that again."
"Well, you won't have to. Sorry Robin, you're stuck with me now," I say with a smirk.
"I… well good, because I wasn't gonna let you go anyway," she says defiantly, placing her hands on her hips.
"Believe me, I know, just a minute ago you—" I stop mid-sentence, realizing how embarrassing it was going to be to say.
"I what?" Robin asks, already reddening again.
"N-nothing." My stomach growls loudly. "I never did finish dinner last night. Do you wanna get something to eat?" I ask.
"Oh, uh, sure," she says. "Let me just get…" She picks my coat up and holds it out to me. I take it from her and put it on.
Still warm.
When Robin and I leave the wagon to join the others, they've already got breakfast well underway. A fair few of the Sheps are here already. Nothing fancy for such a short-notice trip—just bread and a little bit of butter. Not that I'm complaining, food's food.
What's considerably less pleasant is the atmosphere that follows me into the group. A long few seconds of silence pass when everyone sees us coming. I wonder if they heard me falling apart last night. I recall when Emm first lost her memories and Frederick lost his legs, and I had a meltdown in my sleep. Robin, Maribelle, Chrom, Lissa, Cordelia, and maybe others that I didn't see all came to make sure I was okay. I might get irritated at the Shepherds for being such an overbearing and gossip-happy bunch, but I know it comes from a place of caring for each other. I wouldn't be surprised if we had well-meaning listeners outside the wagon last night. Certainly seems like Tharja must have been there, anyway.
The uncomfortable burn of shame wells in my chest and throat, spreading up to my face. I glance at Robin beside me to see how she'll react, but she's wearing a firm poker face.
"Hey, come on," I hear behind me. I turn to see Gaius approaching the rest of the group. "The guy already had to live in captivity for months, then had to get some really bad news as soon as he got back. Don't punish him for it." A ripple of realization spreads across the group, as if waking them from a trance. Most people go back to what they were doing. Gaius drapes an arm across my shoulders. "How're ya holding up, Bear?" he asks quietly.
"I don't know yet," I reply. "There's a lot to sort through."
"I hear that. Look, unless you tell me otherwise, I think the best thing to do is treat you like I always have. What do you think?"
I sigh in relief. "I think that's exactly what I need."
He smiles at me and lets his arm drop to his side. "Good. Because gods, have I missed my buddy. The rest of these schmucks aren't bad, but they aren't you."
I remember what Lucina said the other day. That Gaius and I were pretty much best friends in the future. I believe it when he says something like that.
"Thanks, Gaius," I say.
"Hey," Lissa says, approaching us with several large chunks of bread in hand. "You guys must be hungry." She smiles brightly while she hands us each a piece. Her smile takes on a guilty tinge when she hands me mine though. "Sorry we can't do more than this for your first breakfast back with the Shepherds, Randy. But this whole trip was pretty short notice, so we have to conserve a bit until we get back to Ylisstol. And even then, with all the food we destroyed fighting the Plegians, it's gonna be a lean year."
"Don't worry about it," I reply. "It's not about what I'm eating. It's about who I'm eating with."
"That's such a Randy thing to say," Lissa says, looking relieved that I'm not bent out of shape.
I take a bite. The bread doesn't really taste like anything. Hooray for travel rations.
It feels weird. I thought I was kidding when I said this to Robin, but I really don't know what to do with myself. I mean, walking, sure, but usually we're walking to go do something. Fight a battle, visit a khan, save an Exalt, that kind of thing. But now the war is over. We're in the timeskip now. Approximately two full undefined years lie in front of me. The game says almost comically little about what happens during this time. Only a few things are certain from the canon perspective: Chrom is going to get married and have Lucina, Virion is going to go back to Valm, and the khans are going back to Ferox. Apart from that, I have nothing to work with.
Two full years. Back in my old life, I hardly knew what my life was going to look like a month in advance, let alone 24 months. What do the Shepherds even do when they aren't at war? Just go kill bandits, I guess. Is that really all I have to look forward to?
I promised Libra I would help him open an orphanage. I guess that was always kind of a lie, wasn't it? I knew that once the war was over, we'd only have a couple years before we had to go out and do it all again in Valm, and then again in Plegia. It was the same kind of lie I told Mindy, really. I knew I'd never be able to go back to her and live that quiet life we talked about. But I lied to her and myself, deluding myself into thinking it was possible. Wasn't I just lying to Libra in the same way? You could hardly even call it wishful thinking.
Now, of course, that dream is fucked. I don't know a thing about starting or running an orphanage. I don't even know how to take care of one kid, let alone several dozen. Is that how many kids usually live in an orphanage? I don't even know that! Not to mention I don't know about the regular day to day upkeep on a building like that. I'd be absolutely clueless trying to do this on my own.
Which just reminds me all over again how much I have no idea what I'm going to do even if this trial goes well. I'm giving myself a headache.
"Randy?"
I stop walking and look over my shoulder to see who's talking. It's Maribelle.
"Oh hey. What's up?"
"Are you alright? You seemed a bit… preoccupied," she says as she reaches my side. We continue walking.
"That's one word for it," I reply.
"I know you must have a thousand things on your mind. I wish I could help, but… well, that's what I came to tell you."
"What is it?"
She takes a deep breath and exhales sharply before going on. "You know how happy and relieved I am to have you back. And we have so much to catch up about. But it can't happen right now. Or anytime soon, I'm afraid." She doesn't meet my eye. She just looks straight forward as we walk.
I think I understand where she's going with this. "Because you're Judge Maribelle now, right?" I ask. She nods. "Yeah, I figured. It's bad enough that my ex-girlfriend is going to be presiding over my trial. We should try and mitigate the conflict of interest as much as possible, huh?"
The ghost of a smile emerges on her face. "I'm glad you understand. It's not easy for me. But it's the price of being the one to oversee your trial." She slows up her pace and starts falling behind.
I slow down myself and turn to look at her. "Hey, one more thing. I won't give you any details right now, because it seems unethical, but I'll say this. Don't let the fact that we're friends hold you back from judging me honestly. If in the end you're convinced I've committed a crime against Ylisse, you'd better not let me off. If we don't have a fair trial, it won't help us at all with the khans."
She nods solemnly. "Of course. I won't have my long and promising career as a judge marred by impropriety so early in my tenure."
I laugh a little. "That's what I like to hear. We'll talk for real soon enough."
"Yes. Good-bye, Randy." She retreats toward the rear of the caravan.
I sigh. "I should probably try and learn something about the Ylissean legal system before I go to trial, huh?" Maybe that's what I'll do when I get back to the capital.
I was planning on going to law school, after all.
The next few days are… weird. Everyone seems to have their own way of dealing with me. Gaius tries his best to act 'normal' around me, but when it's just him doing it, it doesn't feel natural. It just feels forced. I appreciate that he's trying, but he's fighting an uphill battle. Lissa tries to give him a hand, but as usual, she's occupied with Emmeryn most of the time.
The general consensus seems to be that I need space. I don't actually know if that's true. I think on some subconscious level, when I was told Libra's dead, I just didn't believe it. I haven't seen any evidence that it's true aside from how everyone's been acting. A psychologist would call it the denial stage, probably. Except I don't think I'm really denying it. I know it's true. It's not like everyone's just lying to me, or wrong, or whatever. I know Libra is dead. But I don't know if I feel it the way I'm supposed to.
That night in the wagon with Robin feels like it was ages ago. It's like that was a different guy. He really felt it in that moment. I think if I were crying more, or doing something to show how sad I am, everyone would feel like they know what to do. When your friend is crying, you hug them. You tell them reassuring things. You don't leave their side. But I'm not really giving them anything to work with. How are you supposed to support someone when they don't make it seem like anything's wrong? But it's not like I can be fake-sad. That feels like it would just make everything worse.
There is one person who truly doesn't seem to have changed her way of dealing with me at all, though.
"Raaaandyyyyyy!" Nowi shouts, her voice getting alarmingly closer by the second. By the time I can react, she's already in the air, flinging herself at my shoulders. Her short arms can't quite reach all the way around my shoulders, so she grabs a couple fistfuls of coat and hangs on for dear life. I sigh in resignation, grab her by the forearms, and pull her up so she's in a less precarious piggyback position. "Hey," she says when she's settled.
"What's up, Nowi?" I ask.
"Nothin'. Just wanted a ride," she says simply.
"Fair enough. While you're here, lemme ask you something."
"Sure!" she almost shouts in my ear.
"So the war is over. We've got, God willing, a long stretch of peace in front of us. What are you gonna do?" I ask.
"Hmmm… That's a good question! I dunno," Nowi replies. "It's been a long time since I've been allowed to just do what I want."
That's right. I almost forgot Nowi was a captive of slavers until we saved her. She might be closer than anybody to understanding how I feel, now that I think about it.
"Good point. I don't know what I want to do either. Feels like we've been on a really narrow road until now. It's been constraining, but it was also easy to know where to go. Now it's like the path has opened up into a massive field. No pressure, yes, but no direction. Does that make sense?"
Nowi considers quietly for a moment. "Well, I guess. But a wide open field is way easier to play in, y'know? I like open fields. Why do ya have to 'go' anywhere?"
Because the Valmese are going to be coming, and the play can't last forever. We need to be ready for them. But I can't say that. "I see what you mean. Maybe it's better not to worry about it."
"Duh! Worrying is bad!" she replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Fair enough. No more worrying, then!" I shout, then take off running ahead, Nowi bouncing and giggling on my back. I can't really articulate why, but this conversation has made me feel better. Even if all she said was basically 'just turn your brain off for a while,' maybe it's not a bad idea. God knows I haven't done that lately.
I'm ready to be back in the city. And by God I need a damn drink.
"So why don't you run through everything that happened on your end while you were in captivity?" Robin says. After dinner, we've retired to the command wagon. We've done this every couple days since we started the trip back to Ylisstol. Whenever we do, we're either planning the route for the next day or she's catching me up on things that have changed or what she has planned for the reconstruction effort. It's felt like she's been conspicuously trying not to make me talk about my time with the Patriots. Until now, anyway.
"I'm surprised you waited this long to ask," I reply.
"I didn't want to force you to talk about it if it was going to upset you," she replies. "Sorry if that seems like I'm treating you with kid gloves."
"No, it's fine. That's what I figured. But really, I don't have that much to be upset about from my kidnapping. Aside from, you know." An uncomfortable, thick second passes, like accidentally swallowing a large ice cube whole. "But while I was there with them, it wasn't so bad. They're really mostly a kind bunch."
Robin raises a brow. "Really?"
"Yeah. They aren't villains, for sure. They think they're doing what's best for the continent. I don't know what version of their goals you've been hearing, but essentially their objective is to replace the governments of Plegia and Ylisse with republics. Governments where the leaders are periodically elected by the citizens rather than decided by hereditary succession. They think the royal family of Plegia and the Exalted family of Ylisse are corrupt. And I mean, can you blame them for thinking that?"
"Huh. We'd heard that they intended to replace the government, but I at least didn't know that they were planning anything like a republic. Everyone thought 'Thomas Paine' planned to just take over the countries himself."
I laugh. "Not likely. That sounds like a lot of work."
"So, what did you mean by 'it's complicated'? Were you Thomas Paine?" she asks.
"Yes and no. For starters, whatever went down at the villa, I have no idea who that was. An impersonator, an extremely zealous Patriot who wanted to take matters into his own hands, some fucking wacko, I can't say. I only ever took on the persona of Thomas Paine because I didn't want my own name associated with what the Patriots were doing. Even if 'what they were doing' was almost always helpful to the Ylisseans."
"Almost."
"Yeah. It's that almost part that's gonna bite me in the ass." I recount what happened with Regulus, the Feroxi, and the whole disaster at Southtown.
"So this Regulus guy is the one who, whether purposeful or not, was at fault for the Southtown disaster?" Robin asks.
"Yeah. He didn't seem like an idiot, though. He was really listening to what I had to say. He was just pretending to ignore it, I'm sure of it. I don't know what his incentive was to fight the Patriots, but he did so in spite of my express warning that they were coming looking for a fight with the Plegians, not the Feroxi. I did everything in my power to stop the fight. And once all that chaos erupted, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I did the only thing I could think to do: I ran for it. Tried to head north."
"Hold on. You did try to escape? What happened?"
"I don't know how, but Vasto tracked me down. He ambushed me and forced me to go back with him. That was when the persona of Thomas Paine was created. He made me talk to the townsfolk to calm them down after the Feroxi had been wiped out. I didn't want to have my face associated with the killing of all those Feroxi soldiers. So I put on the mask, made up a fake identity, and it became the face of a revolution before I knew it."
"So that man… he kidnapped you twice?" Robin asks, incredulous.
"I know, I shouldn't have let myself get cap—"
"No, that's not my point. My point is I'm going to annihilate that man. If he thinks losing a leg and an arm is the worst thing that'll ever happen to him, he's got another thing coming," she says venomously.
"Look, he's really not that bad a guy—"
"Randall. I get it. He spared your life. But being grateful for that is like thanking the man who breaks your arm with a hammer for not breaking your leg as well. Just because he could have done worse to you, doesn't mean what he did is forgivable."
"There's more to it than that, though—"
"There isn't! If that son of a bitch hadn't kidnapped you, you'd have been here for the siege. We would have been able to defeat Campari weeks, maybe months sooner! We wouldn't have lost–" She claps a hand over her mouth. "I mean—"
Her words grip my stomach and twist it. "Yeah. I know. I put that together the night I learned what happened."
"I'm sorry, Randall," Robin says breathlessly. "I didn't mean to—"
"No, no, it's fine. You're right. If Vasto hadn't kidnapped me, Libra would probably be alive right now. Of course, if Virion hadn't leaked our plans, Vasto never would have had the chance. You wanna kill him too? Or what about me? I spent months—months—fucking around with my new buddies in the Patriots. I could have been working out an escape plan so much more diligently than I did. I could have done that. Is my inaction unforgivable too, Robin?" I ask.
"No, Randall, of course not," she says.
"Why not? I was a coward. So scared for my own life that I didn't take a single step toward freeing myself until I had Lucina to back me up. I've let our power puff up my ego for so long that the moment I lost it, I turned into a sniveling baby, willing to collude with the enemy if it meant having a bed to sleep in. I had so many opportunities to run, Robin. They trusted me and I did nothing with it. I just played folk hero for a while, parading around in the mask that was first associated with killing our Feroxi allies. There's no excuse for this besides fear. Anyone else in the Shepherds would have tried to escape. But not me. I was too busy being scared to die for real."
I feel tired. I sit down, leaning up against the wall. On the opposite wall, I see the spot where Robin and I sat when she told me what happened to Libra.
"Randall… You weren't wrong to be afraid. You have more experience than any of us being in the captivity of the enemy. First with the Plegians, then the Patriots. I can't even imagine how terrifying it must have been."
"Just forget it," I sigh. "It's complicated, okay? I want to hate Vasto. It would make it easy if I could. But I don't. And I don't need your permission not to hate him, either."
She's silent for a moment. "I know you don't. But I'm sure you can understand that since I wasn't there to observe what a surprisingly good person he could be, the only thing I know about this man is that he tried to kill you at Breakneck and he's kidnapped you twice since then. Everything I know about this man makes me hate him."
I nod. "I get it. And look, my head is still fucked. I'm sure Stockholm Syndrome still has me in its grip something fierce. Just… I dunno, cut me some slack, huh?"
Robin sighs. "Okay. Like I said the other day, I don't want to overwhelm you. We're already going to have a lot to deal with just with the trials coming up."
"One thing at a time, right? We can worry about whether you're allowed to skin Vasto some other day."
She growls, but then nods relentingly. "Yes, fine. He lives for today. We'll burn that bridge when we come to it."
I appreciate the enthusiasm, but damn. Was she always this prone to anger? Was it my kidnapping that did this to her, or was she always like this, and just didn't show it until now? If she ever got her hands on a dark magic tome, she could do some serious damage. And it could seriously damage her.
I shiver. That's something I'd rather not think about.
Finally, mercifully, the Exalted palace peeks over the horizon. It's felt like an eternity on the road. A deeply uncomfortable eternity.
Robin and I didn't talk much about my captivity after that night. I don't think we're ready to talk about it yet. Too much self-blame, too much anger. It needs some time, I think.
The city doesn't look too bad at first glance, actually. I never really paid that much attention to it the first time I was here. I was still so new to Ylisse generally, I had very little frame of reference for what I should think of Ylisstol. But now that I've seen a great deal of the continent, I can say pretty definitively that there's no grander city, even in its post-siege battered state.
The city is built on a hill, so there's this kind of visual sloping effect as the eye travels up to the palace, where it's buildings all the way up. Even if the individual buildings aren't super tall, you can still see a ton of them at once. And at the very top is the palace, which really is a tall building in its own right. It makes the whole city look very busy.
And it is busy. Civilians and guards alike bustle around, moving goods from place to place. I notice an especially busy portion of the town is around the southeast side, where a bunch of buildings have been burned down. I learn that the Plegians were using one of those buildings as a food storehouse during the siege, and Robin ordered the storehouse burned down. Now the people are coming together to try and build the wreckage back up again. Probably a good time to be a general contractor in Ylisstol right now, now that I think about it. I saw that hole in the western wall as we were coming from the west as well.
By the time we finish getting all the supplies and stuff back into the city, I've pretty well tired myself out, even though it's only midafternoon. With Chrom's leave, I head off to the barracks. It's beyond strange being back. I pause in the common area on the first floor. The last time I remember being here, my biggest fear was Frederick finding out that Robin, Virion, and I had been getting up to shenanigans outside the city.
That was the first time I'd ever killed anyone. I remember how much that stuck with me. After Breakneck, I'd told Robin how much it scared me that I didn't feel as traumatized as I thought I should.
Sort of like how I feel about Libra now.
I push the thought out of my mind. I came here to sleep in my own bed for once, not to get lost in my head. I trudge upstairs and go into my old room. The old blue blanket that was once on the bed isn't there anymore. I guess some Plegian soldier probably didn't want to sleep under the enemy's colors or something. It barely matters to me. I just yank off my clothes and collapse in bed (mostly) uncovered.
If I dream about anything, I don't remember it.
I feel a draft. My own shiver shakes me awake. Opening my eyes a little, I see the room has gone dark. I slept until night. As for the draft, I notice the window has been opened.
I sit up and look around, expecting to see Lucina somewhere. Instead, I find the room empty. That's actually more concerning.
"Luci?" I call into the empty room.
"...Here," Lucina's voice says. I glance over at the window. A single gloved hand waves up from under the windowsill.
"What are you doing?" I ask, stifling a laugh.
"Well, normally when I come in, you're wearing… more than that."
I glance down. Oh yeah. I left my underwear on, but that's about it. I hastily get up and pull on some pants and a shirt. "Sorry about… hold on, why should I be sorry? You're the one breaking into my room again!"
Lucina leaps nimbly through the window, landing with catlike grace in front of me. "I prefer to think of it as paying you a surprise visit," she says with the barest hint of smugness.
"Yeah, yeah. What's up?" I ask.
"I just wanted to make sure you're alright. I watched what happened with Khan Flavia. You're being put on trial. Are you going to be okay?" she asks, taking a seat on my bedside.
"Yeah, probably. I wasn't expecting this, but regardless of what they find at the trial, I don't think I'll be like, executed or whatever. I trust your mom just enough to believe she wouldn't order that even if she did think I was guilty of something. I just need to track down this Regulus fuck and get him to spill what really happened in Southtown. Then it's just a matter of figuring out what the hell happened at the villa."
"...Do you want me to testify for you?" Lucina asks.
"I don't know how much that would help. Or at least, it could hurt a lot more than it helps. If you get up before the judge, she might do some real digging into your identity. If your Brand is revealed, or they insist that the 'Marth' moniker isn't gonna fly, you might end up revealing more than you meant to," I reply.
"That may be, but you can't expect me to sit back and watch you get put on trial for crimes I know you didn't commit and not do something to help."
"That's true." I think for a moment. "You know what? There might be something you can do to help me out. My movement is going to be really limited from now on. I'm not allowed to leave the city until after my trial. That means all the evidence-gathering I want to do will have to be done by someone else. Frankly, I don't trust Flavia not to try and obstruct me on that front if I try to have someone like Robin or one of the other Shepherds do it. You've met most of the leaders of the Patriots. You at least met Hadrian and Vasto, in any case. I don't know how willing they'll be to vouch for me, considering I just bailed on them. But they need to know that they're being blamed for sabotaging the peace negotiations. There's incentive there for them to want to come and clear the air. Either that, or they need to be prepared to go to war with the Ylisse-Ferox alliance. I think Aventine is smart enough to know that they don't have the resources to pull that off."
"The word is that my grandfather has gone missing. It may be some time before I can track him down. You want me to make contact with Vasto?" Lucina asks.
"I know it's not the most appealing concept. For one, they've demonstrated that they can capture you, since they've already done it." Lucina scowls. "For another, Vasto was already in a bad mood when we left. To come back asking for help isn't going to be fun. But I think you might be my best chance to actually get ahold of them. And I suspect they're going to be the key to proving my innocence."
She sighs. "I guess you're right. In that case, I suppose I don't have any time to waste, do I?" She starts heading for the window.
"I'm sorry to ask this of you," I say to her back. "I know you've already done so much for me. I promise I'll repay you somehow, someday."
She pauses halfway through the window and turns to look at me over her shoulder. She smiles. "Any debt you think you owe me has already been paid. By the Randall I knew. The one you'll become for the Lucina of this time." With that, she disappears out the window.
Sheesh. No pressure or anything. Oh well. Now that I'm out of bed and dressed, I don't feel like I can go right back to sleep. Hooray for throwing my sleep schedule out of whack. I close the window and shamble out of the room and head downstairs. I have no idea if I'll run into anyone, or even what time it is except 'dark'. I miss clocks.
When I head down to the common area, I notice a candle burning at one of the tables. Virion's cravat stands out in the candlelight. He's scrawling a note or something.
"Hey," I say. He jumps in surprise, but recovers quickly when he realizes it's only me.
"Goodness, Randall, you gave me a fright. I thought no one else would be awake at this hour," he says a little breathlessly, placing a hand on his chest.
"I don't even know what time it is. I slept the afternoon away and messed up my whole routine. Whatcha up to?" I sit down on the bench next to him.
"Writing a message to my steward. I haven't yet had the chance to inform her that the war is concluded." He continues writing as he talks.
"Do you think you'll hang around for very long? I know you probably need to be getting back fairly soon," I say.
"Oh yes, my people will no doubt be in need of their lord sooner rather than later. Walhart's forces grow ever stronger, after all."
"I wish I could help."
He chuckles. "You should focus on yourself for the time being. You've gotten yourself in quite the predicament there. And it's put Lord Chrom and the newly appointed Judge Osprey in a difficult situation as well. I've no doubt that they have every intention of sparing you true punishment, but they must put on a convincing enough show to persuade that uncouth woman they made a legitimate effort to make all evidence come to light. If you don't give them the tools to do so, they risk an international incident."
"Yeah, I know. I think I've got something in the works there. I hope, anyway."
"Thoughts and hopes are nice, but I suggest getting a real plan in order. Luckily, King Gangrel's trial is supposed to be happening first, so I imagine you've got a decent amount of time to assemble your case. I suspect they will want to make His Former Majesty's trial something of a spectacle."
"I wouldn't be surprised. They'll be doing their best to paint Gangrel as the sole villain, rather than all of Plegia. But they can't afford to downplay the atrocities the Plegians committed if they're going to keep the Ylissean citizens placated. They'll be walking a fine line," I say.
"I see you've at least an inkling of a mind for politics. Was it your time in the Patriots that taught you that?" Virion asks.
"Hardly. I spent most of my time there being a figurehead. Understanding the politics of our actions wasn't my job. I just healed the injured and killed Plegian soldiers."
"Sounds like the same sort of work you would have been doing here," Virion replies. With that, he finishes his note and starts putting away his writing supplies while the ink on the page dries.
"Interesting point. Maybe I should open with that," I say. We both laugh bitterly. "This sucks. I was hoping to have a little bit of peace before I had to start worrying about the next war."
"Now you know how I feel," he replies.
"That's fair. I guess this whole shitshow has just been a distraction for you in the end, huh?"
"If you were to ask my subjects, I am sure they would agree with that sentiment. As for me, I rather hope that the companionships I have forged in my time in this continent will have proven a worthy investment if and when Walhart makes his move on Roseanne."
"How long do you think you have?" I ask.
"Well, Roseanne does have the good fortune to be on the eastern half of Valm, and not particularly close to the ocean. In other words, it is likely a low-priority target for Walhart. Optimistically, I would say we may have a couple years to formulate a plan."
"What do you think you'll be able to do against a force that size?"
Virion chuckles sadly. "Right now? Not much. It's true that I have made steadfast allies in the Shepherds, but without Feroxi support or a proper standing army, neither of which Ylisse has right now, there is not a great deal the Shepherds can hope to do against the army of Valm. I pray you resolve this matter with the khans posthaste, because it's actually putting my own prospects in a rather spotty position."
"But no pressure, right?" Jesus, I didn't think that far ahead. Fucking up this trial won't just potentially have an effect on me, but also on the continent's collective response to Valmese invasion in the future. Could I please stop fucking up the entire timeline every time I sneeze?
"Well, you've certainly seen more precarious situations than anyone else I've ever met. If anyone can find a way out of this, I have faith that it is you," Virion says, rolling up his message to Cherche and fastening it with a teal ribbon. He stands up and starts heading for the stairs, saying, "With that, though, I must retire for the evening. Good night, Randall."
I give him a tired, halfhearted wave. "Night."
Now that the full potential international impact of this trial has been brought to the front of my mind, though, I'm more anxious than ever. So much for going back to bed.
The next day, I learn that Gangrel's trial is set for a week from today. And whenever that concludes, I'll have a week before mine begins. That gives me at least two weeks, plus hopefully at least a couple days more, before I have to put on my case.
I spend a lot of the next few days in the royal library, reading up on the Ylissean rules of court. The royal library is visually quite different from the rest of the palace. For the palace at large, it seems like the only instruction the decorators were given was "blue and gold." Those colors dominate the decor of the throne room, the hallways, the spare rooms, even the kitchen. But here, the colors are much calmer. Browns and beiges dominate most of the room. The most vibrant color is the maroon of the multiple large rugs that cover a lot of the hardwood floor. Despite the muted colors, though, the furnishings themselves are seriously impressive. Large bronze chandeliers dot the high ceiling at multiple points, making the library one of the best-lit rooms in the palace. The shelves reach at least ten feet in height, stuffed with books of all sizes. Dark-stained tables and chairs are spread among the shelves, providing a place to read as soon as you've found the book you're after.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, pretty much half of the library is devoted to magical studies. Modestly-sized statues of important mages through history sit on stone pedestals between the ornate, tall bookshelves. I recognize Merric, Katerina, Linde, Wendell, Boah, and an old dude that I'm pretty sure is Gotoh, among others. The other half of the library has all kinds of subjects, from history to folk tales, cookbooks to smithing guides, pretty much everything one could need. There's a fiction section too. I notice a few markers placed in the shelves where books used to be. A fair few of those markers indicate that "Sumia von Anchorage" is in possession of them. Big surprise.
As for me, I spend my time in one of the back corners, in the concerningly small legal section. The lack of content to peruse initially suggests to me that the legal system might not be that sophisticated. Still, in a lot of ways, the Ylissean legal system is not as backwards as I was afraid it might be. For one thing, courts rely on shows of evidence presented by adversarial parties to prove the truth, rather than like a trial by water or hot iron or whatever.
In most criminal cases, the accused tend to confess, which foregoes the need for a trial altogether. The accused then goes to be sentenced, usually for a fine or some prison time or something similar. I read that some rural towns still employ things like the stockade, but it seems like really serious shit like public flogging has gone out of fashion in this country. So that's nice.
If the accused doesn't confess, the town or city appoints a one-time prosecutor who doesn't know the accused or the victim to gather evidence for the state's side of the case. I guess the idea is that by avoiding having a full-time prosecutor, you avoid any ego getting involved. They just do their duty like someone getting called for jury duty would in America. Obviously, if you always have a layperson carrying out the prosecution, the rules of evidence and trial procedure are less formalized than what I was used to studying. Generally, the judge runs the show and directs the parties on what to do during trial.
As for the defendant, they can appoint one person to serve as their counsel for the case. While lots of people can be recruited to gather evidence for the defense, only one person is allowed to actually present it. I guess this is because sometimes a defendant can be so popular with the community that they'd just flood the court and make the trial process unworkable. Like with the judicially appointed prosecutor, there's no need for the defendant's counsel to have a license or anything. They just have to be someone the defendant trusts enough to put their best case to the judge.
As for the judge, he or she is pretty much the focal point of the case. Like Aventine implied back when I was first kidnapped, Ylissean courts don't usually use a jury system (aside from local minor disputes that judges don't want to be bothered with). Instead, the judge is the decider of both law and fact. While technically the judge is bound to follow codified statutes, the task of interpreting the statute is pretty much done on an ad hoc basis.
In other words, judges are crazy powerful in the Ylissean system. Normally this would scare the piss out of me, but since I already know who my judge is, that puts me mostly at ease. Maribelle did promise to judge me fairly and not show me any preferential treatment, but since I know I'm not a traitor, I just have to make sure the truth comes out. If anything, the conflict of interest weighs in my favor heavily. As opposed to Gangrel, who should probably be saying his prayers right about now.
Speaking of which, I look around as much as I can for rules about conflict of interest. I can tell judges must have codified the laws, because even though the rules expressly forbid a prosecutorial appointee having a conflict of interest with the defendant, there are no rules anywhere about the judge having one. I guess the rationale is that if you're good enough to be appointed to a judgeship, you've already demonstrated you're a defender of the law and won't be swayed by personal attachments. Which is a load of horseshit, but it's not like it's anything I can do anything about. Or want to, in this case. Hey, if the law is skewed in my favor, I'm not about to complain. Not when there's apparently the fate of a whole continent potentially riding on this case.
Anyway, as it turns out, having the judge pretty much run the show simplifies a lot of other things, too. The "rules of evidence" don't really exist the way I'm familiar with them. In American courts, judges use the rules of evidence to curate what evidence is or isn't fit for a jury to see or consider. In Ylisse, though, since the judge can decide for themselves whether to consider any submitted evidence, there's not really a formalized submission process. The judge can just tell a party to buzz off if their evidence is crap, but there aren't really codified rules about what a judge should or shouldn't consider. Jeez, there really is a lot riding on what the judge thinks of you.
I'm starting to see why Aventine thought this system might be in need of reform.
Anyway, the rest of the process seems more or less familiar to me. The prosecution presents all their witnesses and evidence, then the defense produces all of theirs. After the evidence is presented, each side makes a final argument to the judge about why the evidence weighs in their favor. Each side can object to the other's evidence to bring to the judge's attention why it shouldn't be allowed in, though how on earth you're supposed to get a cogent objection without codified rules of evidence, I really don't know. I guess in practice it's more just an opportunity to talk trash on the other side's evidence. Each side can also cross-examine the other side's witnesses if they want.
That last bit is important for me, because I'm sure the prosecution is going to want to bring in that Regulus guy. You know, assuming he's alive and around. I need to be able to put the screws on him if I'm going to blow a hole in their case theory.
"I thought I would find you here." I look over my shoulder to see Robin approaching, several large hardcover books in hand. "We had the same thought."
"Yeah." I lower my voice as much as possible as she takes a seat next to me. "In some sense, I thought I maybe had a headstart, since back in America I had been studying the law for some time and was about to start my formal legal education. But it turns out the rules here are really different."
"Different good, or different bad?" Robin asks.
"I don't know yet. Maybe Gangrel's trial will shed some light on how the actual procedure goes down. But I do know that we're putting a lot of faith in Maribelle here."
"That doesn't bother you, does it?"
"No, not exactly. But we're putting a lot of pressure on her. Or rather she's put it on herself. She has to oversee this trial without making it look like she's just handing it to me, which means we have to anticipate she'll actually grill us pretty hard."
"Do you think she can handle it? That's quite the tightrope she's walking," Robin says as I hand her the notes I've been taking so far.
"If anyone can do it, it's her. I'm just going to owe her big time if we get out of this," I sigh.
"Fair enough." Robin sets into reading my notes. In the meantime, I keep digging into the rules to see if there's anything we might be able to use. Unfortunately, Ylisse is pretty sparse on codifying rules. There's a lot that I'm just going to have to make up as we go along. I hope Lucina can get ahold of the Patriots. And that Vasto will actually be willing to help us. Otherwise we're pretty much just relying on my word, which is well and good for convincing Maribelle, but we need to give her more to work with. Even if I call Lucina to the stand, she can really only vouch for where I was and what I was doing during the peace negotiations. Frankly, Flavia seemed more pissed about Southtown than the assassinations. Which I guess makes sense, because what did Phila really mean to her anyway?
"So," Robin interrupts my rather grim train of thought. "You can appoint someone to be your legal counsel for the case. You, uh, got anybody in mind?"
"Well, I don't exactly have the funds to hire a big-shot attorney even if I knew any, which I don't. You think Miriel's gonna be busy?" I laugh as Robin swats my shoulder. "Maybe Vaike could lend me a hand."
"I think Maribelle would kick Vaike out of the courtroom herself," Robin says, trying and failing to hide her irritation.
"Fine, fine. Robin, would you be my counsel?" I ask. It's a little embarrassing to have to come out and ask for such a big favor so directly like this.
"Dummy. Of course," she says with a playful shove. "Even if you didn't appoint me, I'd have still been poring over every legal text I can get my hands on, so you may as well put my bountiful knowledge to use."
"And so humble!" I say with a snort of laughter.
"Hey, a girl can't have every quality," Robin fires back with a smirk.
"If you say so. Come on, I was about to start digging into local rules for some of the cities around the country. Maybe one of them has something we can use," I say, rising from my chair.
"Right. Let's get to it," she says, getting up to join me.
"He really hasn't been to see it? Not once since we got back?" Chrom asks.
"Not that I'm aware of. And I've been with him pretty much all the time," I reply, taking a sip of my whiskey. Chrom and I have never sat down for drinks before. Never had the chance. It would be nice, if the circumstances were different.
"Why not?"
"I'm not about to ask. And I'm not going to make him, either. If he doesn't want to see it, that's his business."
Chrom brandishes his mug of beer at me. "You've seen how distant he's being. Something's not right with him. Don't you think he needs closure, or something?"
"Probably. But like I said, I'm not going to force it on him. If he's not ready to accept it, that's something I think only time will solve."
He sighs and leans back in his armchair. One of the perks of knowing the Exalted family is getting to drink in their private parlor. I don't think I've ever sat in a chair this comfortable before. And the whiskey isn't bad, either. Though I think I prefer Plegian.
"I guess I don't have room to talk. I'm still getting over my father, and that was over fifteen years ago. Nearly sixteen, I think."
"Well, that's certainly more complicated," I point out. "Family is always complicated."
"True enough. But I do think I'm getting better on that front. Putting a stop to this war without having to crush the Plegians was a welcome mercy. It showed us that no one wanted war. No one except Gangrel. And he'll receive his justice in the end."
I lean in a little. "Do you think Maribelle will sentence him to death?"
Chrom scoffs. "Gods willing. I can't imagine she won't. After casting us into war and ordering the killing of so many of her subjects, Gangrel shouldn't expect anything different. Only question is what manner of execution she'll order."
"I suppose you've got a point. She certainly seemed ready to throttle him during the peace negotiations," I say.
"Yeah." We drink quietly for a few moments. "Do you think I made the wrong call?" Chrom asks after a while.
"About what?"
"Giving Maribelle Gangrel's and Randall's cases. I probably should have assigned their cases to an impartial judge, right? Flavia certainly wasn't happy about this."
I shrug. "Yeah, you probably made an ethically questionable call. But bending to Flavia when she's in the state she's in isn't the right call either. You had to choose between Maribelle and Flavia. I would have made the same call you did."
"I'm worried. I've seen enough of the Feroxi army in action that I know I don't want our next conflict to be with them. We would lose, absolutely." Chrom takes a solemn swig.
"Is that how little faith you have in me?" I ask with a laugh. He gives me a tired look. "Okay, yeah, we'd probably be screwed. But hey, what I'm saying is, you made the right choice." I raise my glass, and after a moment's reluctance, Chrom clinks his against it.
"Alright, fine. I've got plenty of other choices to second-guess. I won't make this one of them."
"Good." I finish my glass.
"I haven't had a chance to say it properly yet," Chrom says, suddenly serious. "Thank you, Robin. For everything you've done for me and my people. You were an amnesiac. You needed and deserved help, but instead all I did was take you and thrust you into a war."
"Chrom, please," I reply, setting my empty glass on the wooden table between us. "I don't know who I was or what I cared about, but you have to admit, war is what I have a talent for. You did better than just help me. You and the others gave me a place to belong. A place to grow. Even better, you gave me friends that I wouldn't trade anything for. I consider you all my family."
He sits back and closes his eyes, a calm, small smile on his face. "You don't know how relieved I am to hear that. Seriously."
"I don't know where I'd be without the Shepherds," I add, pouring myself another glass.
"Knowing your talents, I wouldn't be surprised if someone picked you up to be their general sooner or later. But we got you in the end." He stands up suddenly. "Come with me. I have to show you something."
"But, but, I just poured a glass!" I protest, but Chrom grabs my wrist and pulls me along. Once he's sure I'm following along, he lets go, but he moves so briskly I have to almost jog to keep up.
He takes me down to the palace armory. He stops me in the doorway.
"Wait here," he commands.
"What are we doing here?" I ask.
"Just wait," he says, then disappears into a back room. After a minute or so, he emerges, a large pile of… something in his hands. I can't make it out in the dim light from the sconces on the walls. He sets it down on a nearby table, then picks up one item from the pile and holds it out to me.
I take it and am surprised by its weight. I hold it closer to the wall sconce. It's a platinum-colored armored chest piece. "Is this for me?" I ask.
"Yeah, it is. Try it on!" Chrom says, sounding more excited than I've heard him get about anything in a while.
I sigh, slipping off my coat so I can strap it on. Chrom helps fasten the buckles on the back. I have to admit, it fits pretty damn well. I try moving my arms around. No limited movement that I can really perceive. None when I bend forward and backward either. This has been tailor-fitted for me specifically.
Hold on. "How did your smiths get my measurements so exactly?" I ask, eyebrow cocked.
Chrom looks away. "Well, I mean, it's pretty common knowledge that Tharja's always got an eye on you anyway. I figured I'd put that watchful eye to use, you know?"
Even though I'm wearing a full armored chest piece, I suddenly feel quite naked. "Lovely. That's very relaxing."
"Anyway! There's greaves as well. Here," he says, handing over a pair of matching leg armor pieces. I strap them on as well; sure enough, a perfect fit. I'm equal parts miffed and honestly impressed.
"What's this about, Chrom? I'm rarely out on the front lines anway," I say. He hands me my coat to put back on.
When I have the coat on again, he hands me one more thing. A sort of shawl, Exalt-blue in color, with gold accents. While I fasten it over my shoulders, Chrom says, "Well, consider this the mark of your new station."
"New station?"
"Robin, as of now, I am giving you the title of Grandmaster General of the Ylissean Army," Chrom says, straightening my shawl a bit.
"Grandmaster General? Ylissean Army? I thought Ylisse didn't have an army anymore," I say, examining the armor on my body.
"It didn't. When Emmeryn was the Exalt. But she's not anymore. I am. My sister meant well when she ordered the dissolution of most of the armed forces. But it was misguided to go so far. Our country needs a force ready to protect it. I want to build it. And I want you to lead it, if you'd accept the position." Even in the dim light, Chrom's eyes burn with cobalt passion.
I act like I'm taking a moment to consider, but really, I knew my answer as soon as he offered the job. "Of course."
Chrom nods solemnly. "Thank you… General Robin." Then he leans in and throws his arms around me in a clumsy hug. "Seriously. Thank you, Robin."
I return the hug. "It's my honor, Chrom."
A/N: Hey all, been an unfortunately long while. Motivation has been down lately, as has free time. I hope this chapter made up for the absence! Thanks as always to Mixed Valence for his help with the chapter, as well as Kirby from the Discord server for giving this chapter a look through to make sure I was on track. When you sit on a chapter for too long, you need a fresh perspective to get outside your own head, and Kirb was helpful for that. MV's 3H fic Those Who Can't Teach is going strong and gets better with every chapter, so take a look! And here is your Mixed Valence out-of-context quote of the week: "Um sweaty sporting is not a word, don't you mean sportin?"
And now some review responses:
Crowbars357: Thank
DD360: Seeing your takes on every update is one of the best parts of putting a new chapter out. Thank you for your heartfelt feedback every time :3
Izunama: Glad it lived up to expectations! As you can see, we're gearing up at full speed for the legal drama segment of the story. Here's hoping I can actually make it interesting!
Hello I am Username: I love few things more than theories and speculation, so by all means, theorize away. Writing Randall's interactions with the kids, even indirectly, is one of my favorite things to do. I can't wait to bring the second gen units together! Chrom has been kind of a surprise hit for me. I didn't know how much I'd love exploring him until I started digging and liked what I was coming up with. But it's a nice feeling to slowly start bringing these disparate threads together. Everything was so fragmented for a while; I think we need a coming together before things get complicated again. A chance to take a breath. Regardless, thanks a ton for your extensive review! I loved reading your thoughts.
Information Broker: Seeing it broken down like that kind of makes me realize why I took so long to get this chapter out. I really spent a lot of drama points in the last chapter, huh? Even so, I hope this chapter suitably kept the momentum rolling!
V01dSw0rd: You pose a lot of good questions, all of which will be answered in due course! Maybe! Mwehehe
DaedalusFlights: Thanks for reading, and for your kind words!
hzs: Glad you enjoyed! It's nice to hear my most recent chapter is my best, because that means I'm improving!
Remvis: Rest assured, you didn't come across as rude at all. I always like hearing my readers' frank thoughts, even and especially what they're confused about or think I could be doing better. Glad the Traveler still has some mystery to him! I love hearing folks' theories about what the deal with him is. As for your point about Walhart, that's interesting. I'll have to give that some thought. He's an incredibly proud and stubborn man, so I'm not sure how feasible is to suggest there's any way to win him over outside of crushing him. But we will see!
Scoolio: You know I had to do it to him. (dabs sadly)
Chretner: Sorry you had to wait for so long! I'm glad you've been enjoying it!
Call Brig On Over: Like I've said before, I love me some reader predictions. By all means, keep em coming~
Spiderc: Writing a big-ass battlefield remains one of the hardest things for me as a writer. It's tough to keep the pace alive while suitably describing everything. Glad you felt like I hit that balance this time!
dragnguy: I'm elated that you're having fun with the story! Playing with the magic system was one of the funnest creative exercises I had as I've been writing this story, so I'm glad you like the result!
Alice Fairchild: Sorry the wait was longer than I planned! Thank you for your kind words, and I hope you continue to enjoy!
Sleeper314: I love getting reviews like yours. I've got a few readers who haven't actually played the game, and when they like what I've written, it tells me that my writing can stand on its own without that preexisting love for the source material backing it. Thank you for your kind words!
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