Birth and Re-Death
Chapter 50: Halidom v. Belmont, Part 2: Necessary Hugging
Aventine sits in a chair next to his bed. He thinks it must be no earlier than two in the morning, but he cannot bring himself to sleep. His mind pounds with a million voices, all shouting at once.
"Murderer."
"Kidnapper."
"Manipulator."
"Craven."
"Coward."
One voice echoes louder than all the others. Even though his voice is nothing more than a desperate gasp. A bloodied gurgle, trying to force out even a single syllable through a slashed throat. Gideon's final moments ring painfully in his ears as if he were still there, feeling the hot blood run down his hands. Sixteen years later, he cannot forget the look of shock and dumb confusion on the man's face as he died.
So many have died in the name of this cause. Giving up now would be like spitting on their graves, wouldn't it? To turn his back on all those who have paid the ultimate price… it's unthinkable.
He thinks again about what Octavia said. That he was using Mustafa's memory as a weapon to defend himself. He sighs. She is right, of course. He always does this. He has these grand ideas, but when it comes time to implement them, he hides behind the coattails of those with the courage to risk something. Even killing Gideon was a move that incurred no real danger for him. By the time he had gathered the will to do it, everyone in the country hated the man. He's never made a single risky move without a safety net beneath him.
Vasto was right. He does deserve to face justice for the things he's done.
He wonders what will become of his wife. Will anyone take care of her after the halidom no doubt seizes everything? Will she be alright? The thought of his wife sends his emotions spilling over the edges of the cup.
The cowardly old man sobs. For self-pity, for fear, for remorse, for contrition. And for Gideon and Mustafa, who each in their time had been the greatest men he had ever known. And for Robert, who was right to disown him as his father, and whom Aventine has let down every day since the boy left home.
I wake up, my heart racing.
I'm in my bed. I touch the side of my head, probing for damage, and I find none. We were able to go back.
Relief washes over me in a warm, comforting wave. This is the security of having Randy back. Even something like a sudden swarm of Risen is no match for us.
I have no time to waste. The first priority is getting a message to the south gate. I get out of bed and hastily find clothes to pull on. I rush outside, where I see Sully, Vaike, and Lon'qu sparring. It looks like it's Lon'qu versus the other two. I'm a little startled when I hear a loud, sharp snore behind me, but when I look, it's just Lissa, sitting up in a chair by the door. I guess Lon'qu must have dragged her out in case they need healing.
I approach the trio, and they all pause their fight when they notice me.
"Come to join us, Robin?" Vaike asks brightly.
Sully swats his shoulder. "Dumbass. Robin has to focus on Randall's trial today."
"Oh yeah," Vaike says sheepishly. "What's up, Robin?"
"When you go to the courthouse, I want you all to have a weapon ready," I say.
"Why?" Lon'qu asks. "Do you anticipate needing them?"
I nod. "I do. Randall is about to testify about the identities and the secret plans of the Patriots, because in his time held captive by them, he gained a lot of information about the organization. The Patriots know he knows a lot about them. I wouldn't be surprised if they try sending attackers that would silence Randall before he can reveal this information. I will not let that happen."
Lon'qu bows his head slightly. "Right. I'll keep my swords at my side, then."
"Good. I'll speak with Maribelle about making an exception to the usual rule about weapons in the courthouse," I say. "In the meantime, I want you three to make sure the other Shepherds get the same message. I want everyone armed today."
"You got it!" Sully says, saluting with a fist to her chest.
I take my leave of the group and start heading for the guardhouse for the northern district of the city. There are five guardhouses in the city: one central location and one in each cardinal direction. They have a pair of dedicated pegasus riders at each guardhouse to ensure expedient messaging between locations.
I enter the guardhouse, and on seeing me, the guards sitting at the table inside scramble to their feet.
"Grandmaster General! What can we do for you?" one of the guards stammers.
"I need a message delivered to the southern district guardhouse straightaway," I say. "Tell them that they should anticipate a sudden attack from the south today. The trial of Randall Belmont is today, and I expect the Patriots are going to try to put a stop to that. Be sure that your message emphasizes the need for constant vigilance. These Patriots are experts at surprise attacks and guerilla warfare, so even if it appears we are safe, that could change at a moment's notice."
"Right away, General!" the guard exclaims, then immediately goes into a backroom to get a sheet of parchment and a quill.
I turn to his fellow at the table. "I want a second message delivered to the central guardhouse. They are to oversee a consolidation of guards at the south gate. Don't leave the rest of the city entirely undefended, of course, but I want a large share of our defenses shoring up the southern district. Tell them I want half of the total city guard concentrated there."
"Of course, General!"
I sigh, relieved. That's another thing hopefully accounted for. It's going well. Knowing what's coming is such a reassuring feeling.
I then immediately regret my arrogant assumption that I know what's coming when I open the door to the guardhouse and find Tharja standing directly behind the door. I yelp and fall on my behind. Instantly, Tharja is helping me back up.
"I wondered what has you so riled up this morning," Tharja says. "What's the matter?"
I take a deep breath, both to calm myself and to stop myself from telling Tharja off for following me again. "I'm concerned that the Patriots might mount an attack to stop Randall from testifying about them," I say.
"I see. Well you needn't worry about that. If you order it, I'll protect him with my life," she says, sounding remarkably creepy despite the actually quite selfless sentiment.
"I hope it won't get to the point where that becomes necessary," I say. "Although, now that I think about it, there is something you can do for me."
Her eyes widen excitedly. "Yes? What is it?"
"It's nothing serious. I just want you to make sure that you have a tome Randall will be able to use as well. I want him armed if something happens. If you can't spare one of your own, there should be a Ruin tome in Randall's room. After he and I have left to go to the courthouse, you can get that. Just make sure it's on you when you come to court."
Tharja grins sinisterly. "You really do expect a fight, don't you? Know something we don't?"
I sigh. "I just have a bad feeling about today. I want every possibility accounted for."
"As you say," Tharja replies. "If you need anyone hexed, I'll be around." She slinks away around the corner of the building.
Comforting as always, Tharja.
My last stop is Maribelle. I need to make sure she's on board with all these weapons in her courtroom. I head for the palace, assuming that she will have spent the night with her fiancé.
I reach the palace doors. One of the guards standing outside salutes as I approach. "Grandmaster General," he says deferentially.
"Has Lady Maribelle been around today?" I ask.
"I have not seen her, ma'am. You might try inside the palace," he replies.
"Very well." The guard opens the door for me. "Thank you," I say as I enter the palace. It's nice to be the grandmaster.
I look around all the places I would think to find Maribelle: the tea room, the dining room, the study, and so on. No sign of her. She shouldn't be at the courthouse yet; in the last run, Randall and I were there by now and she wasn't. She must be around here somewhere.
I realize there's one place I haven't checked.
My first clue that I'm right is that there are no guards standing outside Chrom's bedchamber. He must have dismissed them for some reason or other. I take a deep breath through my nose, bracing myself for whatever may happen when I knock on this door. I reach out with a tentative hand and rap the door with my knuckles.
I wait. I hear a voice, so muffled I can neither make out the words nor the speaker's identity. After a few long moments, the door opens slightly. Chrom stands on the other side of the door, thankfully wearing undergarments.
Gods alive, his torso is muscular.
"What is it?" Chrom asks, eyes squinted with sleepiness.
"Is, uh–" I clear my throat, "–is Maribelle in there?"
He glances off to his left, toward his bed. "Why do you ask?" he asks cautiously.
"For the gods' sake, Chrom," I say, my exasperation getting the better of me, "it's about the trial. It's important. Is she in there or not?"
Chrom opens the door wider as Maribelle steps into view. She's wearing a short white nightgown, more immodestly dressed than I've ever seen her. Her hair, normally so well maintained, is a long, wavy, blonde mess.
"What is the matter, Robin?" Maribelle asks, her voice tired and irritated.
"It's about trial security. I have reason to think the Patriots will try to attack during Randall's trial. I want your permission to have the Shepherds armed during the trial, even inside the courthouse. I don't want us caught unaware if someone suddenly breaks into the courtroom."
Maribelle looks at me, her eyes narrowed. "Why do you think this is going to happen?"
"I don't think it will necessarily, I just think it could. I want to be cautious, that's all," I reply.
She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. This is an extenuating circumstance, after all."
"Thank you," I say, then turn to walk away.
"One more thing, Robin," Chrom says, making me pause. I look back at him. His expression is more than a bit sheepish. "Could you maybe… not mention to anyone what you saw?" he asks.
"I only went to go see Judge Osprey before the trial. I don't know what you mean," I reply.
"Er, right. Thanks, Robin." He closes the door softly.
I sigh as I start down the hallway again. This is going to be a long day. I'm already tired.
And here I thought the trial process was dull before. Going through literally the same testimony two days in a row is like torture.
Thankfully, Robin remembered most of the previous run's overall beats to be able to replicate the same lines of questioning this time. She made sure to hammer home the point with Chrom, and later with Lissa, that if I had wanted to kill the Exalted family, I could have done so or at least allowed it to happen on several occasions already. Until Flavia gets up and we can start jabbing holes in her testimony again, that's the most solid defense we have. Even though we know it's coming, we can't really prevent Danica pointing out how much of my origin story is unknown to everyone.
I've accepted that it's probably time to at least start easing people into the idea of other worlds existing. That bombshell is coming sooner or later with Lucina anyway, and really there's no reason for it not to. I won't go as far as explaining the whole idea of it being a game to everyone; the last thing this trial needs is a slew of existential crises in the gallery. But at this point, my old worries that I won't be accepted as part of the Shepherds have faded. They at least deserve to know that I'm not from Valm. Especially considering that there's a war with Valm coming in the not-really-that-distant future.
Another comfort is seeing all the weapons in the room. Swordsmen like Stahl and Gaius have their weapons at their waists when they take the stand, and mages like Miriel and Tharja have tomes on their persons. Tharja in particular looks downright strapped. I count at least three tomes: one at each hip and one sort of bound to her back. The books almost do a better job clothing her than her weird body sock-thing does.
When Flavia gets up on the stand, Robin and I are much more conservative in our counters to her testimony. We make sure to hit the same points as before: we have only hearsay of what Regulus said to go on, the battle at Southtown was the result of a misunderstanding, and the Patriots' actions at the Osprey villa suggest they weren't involved with the assassinations. We're just trying to be a bit less combative this time. For my part, having seen that Flavia can be convinced of my innocence, even if it's in her dying breath, I'm doing a pretty good job of not taking her vitriol personally. Robin, on the other hand, grinds her teeth and clenches her fist through much of Flavia's testimony. I appreciate that Robin is very protective of me, but I don't want that to come at the cost of her relationship with the khans down the line.
In the end, we manage to get through her testimony without anyone shouting or having to bang a gavel. I consider that a win. Even if she still won't meet my eye when she passes me to return to her seat.
Maribelle looks up at me. "Khan Basilio has declined to testify, stating that he wishes his testimony to reflect the khan regent's verbatim. That leaves only one witness remaining for the court. Mr. Belmont, please take the stand."
Alright. Any minute now, we should be interrupted by the guard informing us about the Risen attack. I pretend like I'm taking a moment to gather my notes, hoping that I won't actually be up at the stand when the guy busts in. I'd prefer not to get separated from Robin this time if I can help it.
I shuffle papers for as long as I can, but when Maribelle clears her throat, I realize it'll just look suspicious if I hold off for too long. I stand up and start making my way over to the stand.
When I'm about halfway across the room, though, the door finally bursts open. I turn and watch the guard stumble in as expected.
"Everyone, trouble!" he shouts as he struggles to catch his breath. "Risen, loads of them!"
"Calm down," Maribelle orders, rising from her seat along with most of the room. "Where are these Risen coming from?"
"The east gate, Your Honor! They just appeared out of nowhere!"
Hold on. That's not right.
I look at Robin, who gives me a look of confusion that I'm sure mirrors mine. Our preparations were for an attack on the south gate. Something changed where the attack is coming from. There are lots of potential explanations running through my head, but we don't have time to sort through them right now.
As I expected, I see the khans, wading through the crowd in my direction. Robin gets up and stands at my side.
"Belmont, what's going on?" Flavia demands, getting in my face.
"Trust me, Khan. I don't know," I reply, and for the most part, I'm not lying. We're being caught off guard here just like everyone else.
"Well you're coming with us until this matter is resolved," she says, grabbing my collar and starting to pull me toward the door.
Robin steps in and wrenches Flavia's hand away. "Khan, I understand you have your suspicions about Randall. But this is neither the time nor the place to allow those suspicions to get in the way of him helping us."
"He can help all he wants. But he will do so in my line of sight, or I'll cut him down," Flavia growls.
"Fine. But I am coming too. And that means you'll be working with us," Robin says.
"Have it your way, Robin," Flavia replies.
Robin shouts over the din of the courthouse, getting everyone's attention. "All Shepherds and others who are armed and ready to fight, listen to me! I made sure everyone was equipped and ready for an event exactly like this. The key now is mobility. Everyone with a mount, make sure to take someone with you. Guards, make sure the infantry wagons are ready in no more than five minutes. Go now!" The guards at the back of the courthouse scurry out the doors. "Cordelia, Pallas is our fastest flier here. Can you get to the south gate and get the city guard moving to the east as quickly as you can? We'll have to hold out a while until they arrive, but we can still get the gate secured and begin culling them. Let's move!"
We go outside and allow the khans to bring us to their embassy to get armed and prepared to ride out. While we stand in the former lobby, I feel a tug on my shoulder. I turn and see Tharja standing there.
"Uh, hey. What are you–?" I start to ask, but I'm interrupted by Tharja thrusting a tome into my hands. It's my Ruin tome. She must have gotten it out of my room at some point. She smiles a bit creepily at Robin briefly and leaves the building as quietly as she entered it.
The khans emerge from their rooms, weapons in hand. Flavia glares at the tome. "Where did you get that?" she asks suspiciously.
"Tharja was here. She lent it to me," I reply.
She looks at one of the soldiers in the room with us, who nods silently. "Fine," she says, returning her gaze to me. "Don't do anything stupid. You'll regret it."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I reply.
"Come on, both of you. We're riding out to face the threat," Flavia says, leading us outside. Like last time, there are mounts prepared for the khans. And like last time, I am made to get on Flavia's horse behind her.
We start our ride out east. The east gate is about as far from us as the south gate, so aside from the lack of backup, things really haven't changed much for us. I feel slightly better about hanging onto Flavia as we ride, though. For one thing, we didn't piss her off so much today. And more importantly, I'm keeping in mind that she can be convinced of my innocence. I've done it before. Hopefully I can find a way to do it without killing her this time.
"You know I have to ask, Randall," Flavia says over her shoulder. "Do you have anything to do with this?"
"Trust me, Khan. If I was friends with someone who can summon Risen, the war would have been over a lot faster," I reply. "And we would have lost much fewer lives."
"We?" Flavia asks.
"Yes, we. I'm on your side, Flavia. I always have been. You'll hear more of my side when I testify, but this is the truth: I did everything I could to avoid fighting your soldiers. And I never once raised a blade to any of them. I don't know what Regulus gains by lying to you, aside from making you hate me and the Patriots. And I know you hate hearing that your soldiers would ever turn traitor. Maybe he wasn't trying to hurt anybody and he's just really, really wrong. But I promise you: the story you have heard is false."
She's silent for a while, facing forward so I can't see her expression.
"Your story is convenient. Too convenient. You were there in the middle of that mess, as Thomas Paine, yet you somehow didn't do a single thing that incriminated yourself? It would be nice for you if it were true, but that requires me to accept that my captain is either utterly incompetent or a lying traitor. I don't want either to be true. Do you see?"
"You would rather I be a traitor than you be not so hypervigilant that one person was able to pull the wool over your eyes one time?" I ask, unable to hide my incredulity.
"I am khan regent. I have to live up to that title," she says, a cold edge in her tone.
"Khan, I gotta tell you, that's really messed up," I reply.
"Well in any case, I'm not convinced you didn't betray us. The Patriots had more to gain from the slaughter in Southtown than Regulus did. You can't change that."
I can see we've reached an impasse. "I guess it's up to Maribelle to make that call."
"Yes it is."
We ride in silence until we start seeing Risen wandering the wide street. Thankfully, unlike last time, we aren't the first people here. The other Shepherds, whose weapons and mounts were ready right away, are ahead of us, fighting off the horde.
I see Sumia swooping in and out of the sky, occasionally picking off Risen with her lance. Gaius rides Kestrel with her, using a bow to take out enemies from the sky.
On the ground, other pairs are working well together as well. Stahl and Panne have a sort of corral-and-punish strategy where Stahl will ride a perimeter around a group of Risen to force them together, then Panne will pounce in off Fennec's back, transform, and brutalize the clumped crowd with crushing blows in her bunny form.
Vaike and Sully are less refined in their methods, simply running distraction tactics for one another in turn to score blows on the backs of Risen heads, but it works a trick.
Gregor and Anna are running a more classic tank-and-DPS style of battle, where Gregor absorbs blow after blow with his massive arm shield so Anna has the room to maneuver into position to get major hits off.
Lon'qu and Lissa, meanwhile, have opted for the DPS-and-healer style, where an aggressive Lon'qu leaps into the thick of battle, his killing edge a whirlwind of steel around him, and Lissa provides support in the form of constant healing and the occasional attack with the iron hatchet in her right hand. Looks like she's opted for the way of the war cleric.
Kellam and Miriel's strategy is no surprise: he provides cover while she roasts the enemy behind a wall of steel safety. At least, I assume that's what Kellam is doing; I can't actually make him out from here, but Miriel sure seems to be kicking ass out there.
The others haven't expressly paired off, but they're working well together as a group. Virion and Donnel are providing archer support from the roof of a nearby building, picking off enemies when they have clear shots. Tharja also fires down dark magic from above, visibly enjoying herself as she slings shot after shot. Ricken beside them is mostly using his Elwind to run interference for enemy mages and archers, throwing off their projectiles and rendering them inert. Behind all of them, I can see Olivia dancing, every move of an arm or leg producing little golden twinkles that waft over the rooftop group. No wonder they're all attacking so efficiently.
The only one truly on her own in this fight is Nowi, but it's a little hard to worry too much about her when she is so plainly having a great time throwing the Risen around like chew toys. The only thing she would have to worry about is magic, but Ricken is doing a good job keeping the spells off her. I just hope she's having fun.
Finally, further into the sea of zombies, I see the flashing blade of Falchion waving in and out of sight. I also see Frederick's gleaming blue-tinted armor shining in the afternoon sun, confirming that he's still just as capable on horseback as ever. Between the pair, I also see Maribelle astride Fleur-de-lis, healing both of them as needed. Occasionally she'll shoot a Thunder bolt of her own when enemies slip through the gaps. The trio act as probably the most efficient Risen-killers on the field.
I realize that in this moment, I've been seeing the field the way Robin does. It's only been a few seconds, but a glance was all I needed to survey the area and take stock of everybody and analyze their tactics.
By now, we've reached the group ourselves, and the four of us dismount. Robin and I waste no time finding each other.
"We stick together," Robin says, holding her Elthunder and Levin sword ready.
I nod, readying my new Ruin tome for battle. "Let's get some distance from the crowd. I don't know how powerful this thing is going to be when I try it."
"Right. Let's go!" Robin and I start heading toward the far side of the street, opposite the rooftop ranged fighter group.
"Don't get too far from us!" Flavia shouts after us.
I look behind at her. "Then keep up, Khan!"
She looks ready to either shout something back or slap me, but after a second relents and follows us, Basilio behind her.
Ahead, a group of Risen is starting to work its way around the Shepherds' flank, sheltered by the buildings on the side of the road. There's a group of five or six of them together, charging down the alley between two buildings toward us.
I take a deep breath and assume control of my body. Ruin. The desire to destroy. I remember what Tharja said to me, months ago. She called it the desire to watch something be absolutely decimated and reduced to ashes. I try to allow my body to feel fury like that. It's not that hard for a temperamental mind like mine. I recall my rage from Lake Medeus. I harness the anger from that moment while leaving behind the blindness that came with it. Be present in your mind, but let the rage manifest and fuel the spell at your fingertips. To anyone looking at me from the outside, I have no doubt I look like a snarling beast, but inside, I keep calm. Watching my body safely behind the shield of control I have worked so hard to create.
I pull the magic from the page. This is definitely a far cry from a simple Flux spell. The magic pulsates in my hand, threatening to explode right there if I don't keep a handle on it. I can see why even those who are naturally angry can't use a spell like Ruin too early. A novice trying to harness this magic would probably blow their arm off.
I gesture to Robin to tell her to stand back, then allow the spell to pull my hand forward. I'm used to Flux leaping eagerly from my hand, but Ruin positively blasts out, with recoil like a shotgun. The orb of black energy rips forward, slamming into the Risen at the front of the group and detonating. Beams of darkness radiate from the center, evaporating the flesh of every Risen in their path. Two of them are killed outright and dissolve on the spot. Another loses a leg and is knocked prone. A fourth has an arm nearly severed, and shadowy bugs—or whatever the hell those things are—leak from the wound.
I let out an elated, triumphant laugh, just barely holding back an unironic 'yee-haw'. God damn this tome is powerful. "You give the best presents, Robin!" I exclaim as she dispatches one of the unharmed Risen with an Elthunder bolt to the head.
She turns her head slightly to smirk at me. "Glad you like it."
Flavia pushes past me to clash with the remaining unharmed Risen charging us. "I've got this one," she says, effortlessly ducking its axe swinging for her head. In the same movement, she flicks her sword forward, cutting through the Risen's torso as if it were made of Jello.
Basilio charges forward behind Flavia and buries his axe in the head of the near-amputee. While he's waiting for that one to dissolve and die, he raises his boot and stomps on the head of the one lying on the ground. His heel crushes through the Risen's skull with a darkly satisfying crunch.
I'm still catching my breath from just the one use of Ruin. The spell is powerful, but it asks much of its user in return. I can see why these tomes aren't everywhere on the battlefield.
"Are you alright?" Robin asks, catching my attention.
"Yeah, I'm good. This tome just takes it out of you. I definitely need another tome to be my backup," I reply.
"Remind me to stock up the next time Bookish Anna is in town, then," she says. "But for now, are you good to keep going? We'll get the best use out of that if we can get you in the air and firing into the middle of the crowd."
"Good idea. Let's see if Nowi can't get me up and over the enemy." We head back out of the alley into the main street. It looks like things are going okay out here. As more and more Feroxi arrive to back up the Shepherds, it looks like the crowd of Risen can at least be contained, even if actually taking them all down is slow going. Considering we're having to make do without the vast majority of the city guard at the moment, I'd say this is at least manageable.
Robin, the khans, and I are cut off from the rest of the group over here. While we kept them from flanking wide around the buildings, we weren't able to stop some of the Risen from pushing their way up the south side of the street. The Feroxi soldiers are pressing in from the west, but for now we're separated from the rest of the Shepherds.
I survey as much of the battlefield as I can see from here. The area around the gate is still thick with shambling corpses. Even with all our efforts, there are just an assload of these guys, and with sheer numbers, I worry they'll get through our lines eventually. Aside from the rooftop ranged attackers, who have the benefit of Olivia's dancing to keep them going strong, the others will start to feel the fatigue of an attrition battle.
Worse, there's no reasonable way to even get Nowi's attention from here, let alone somehow get me into the air. None of the buildings on the south side of the street have a second floor or a means of getting to the roof, so I'm stuck on the ground.
Robin, never one to come to battle unprepared, has a second sword on her, which she passes to me to defend myself while I prepare to fire more Ruin shots. I think it's a steel sword.
Wait just a second. Is this the same sword I used way back when Robin and I had to stop Virion's debt collectors from repossessing his head? This takes me back in a weird way.
I stand beside Robin to try and carve a dent into the crowd of the dead. We work well together, with one of us playing a defensive role while the other readies a spell, then switching out so the other can do the same. Robin spends more time in the spell-firing position than I do, since I can't use Ruin nearly as rapidly as she can use Elthunder. Every once in a while, I see her glance at the tome strapped to her right hip, and I realize she's really tempted to bust out her Thoron magic.
"Can you guarantee a clear path?" I call over my shoulder just before blocking a vicious swing from an axe fighter.
Robin steps back and surveys down the street toward the gate. "I think so!" she calls back.
"Then go for it! I'll cover you!" I shout. Robin's longsword is a lot more intuitive for me to use than Basilio's and Flavia's. Not nearly as comfortable as Longinus in my hand, but it's easy for me to redirect attacks with, and I'm coming to realize that's the best way to fight Risen solo: make them get in each other's way, then pick them off while they're off-balance.
A few seconds later, Robin shouts, "Clear, now!" I leap to the left, getting out of the way of her blast. She fires the bolt, and I'm briefly deafened as the javelin of lightning shrieks past me on my right, penetrating deep into the crowd. I see at least three or four clouds of dissipating shadow bug-things float up above the mob.
I glance behind me and see Robin practically hopping with excitement about getting to use Thoron again. I give her a look intended to say something like why the hell aren't you readying another shot already?, which she thankfully seems to understand. She grins as she pulls another spell from the page and lets loose on the Risen currently trying to skewer me with its lance. The sound is like being right next to an exploding firework meets the extremely loud static snow on an old CRT TV.
"Woo!" I hear behind me through my ringing ears. A second later, Robin is beside me again, her Levin sword in hand. "What a rush!" she cheers. I guess I'm just happy she's happy.
With that, we resume the strategy of alternating sword fighting, Ruin, and now Thoron to keep the Risen at bay. It's working fine, but over time the battle starts to take its toll on us. Whoever summoned these Risen really meant business, because there's still no end in sight. We're doing our best and it's just keeping the battle at a standstill. I worry that if things go on much longer, the Risen will break through our lines and overtake us.
"Whichever one of your little friends is doing this, tell them to knock it the hell off!" Flavia shouts at me as she buries her blade in a Risen's chest.
"Do I look like I have any control over whoever's doing this?" I reply incredulously. "If I'm behind this, this is the worst self-preservation plan ever!"
"Look!" Robin shouts, pointing to the sky. I look in that direction and see a black pegasus gliding in from the southwest. Even from here, more than a hundred feet below, I can make out Cordelia's red hair flowing behind her.
That must mean the city guard's main force isn't far behind. Finally.
Cordelia flies a wide circle around the battlefield, throwing a few Thunder bolts down at the enemy as she slowly descends. Finally, she touches down not far from us. Robin and I cut down the few Risen standing between us and her.
"Robin! The city guard is coming. They will be here in a matter of minutes," Cordelia reports.
"Very good. Is your pegasus still good to fly?" Robin asks.
"Pallas could fly all afternoon if she needed to," Cordelia replies proudly.
"Good. I want you to get Randall airborne right away, and keep him within firing range of the densest parts of the crowd. His magic is destructive but imprecise, so his best application is safely taking shots away from any allies." Robin gestures for me to get on Pallas behind Cordelia, her expression hard-set and determined.
"You got it," Cordelia says with a quick salute. She reaches down and gives me a hand up onto the saddle. I get settled in, then remember to give Robin her sword back.
As she takes the sword and puts it back in its sheath at her hip, she gives us both a firm look. "No risky moves. Everyone comes home today."
"Risky moves? When have we ever?" I ask. With that, Cordelia taps Pallas's side with her heels, and the pegasus takes off. Despite my brief history of flight with Vasto, I'm really not used to flying yet, and the arm that isn't holding Ruin coils tightly around Cordelia's torso.
"Hold on tight, Randall," Cordelia says over her shoulder. "Last thing I want is to drop you into the middle of that mess down there."
"That would be… less than preferable, yeah," I say, my voice a pained wheeze a little as Pallas's wingbeats jerk us upward roughly. Without a long stretch of ground to serve as a runway for a smooth takeoff, she is forced to ascend with the sheer force of her flapping, which jostles us intensely and racks my nuts on the saddle repeatedly with each wingbeat.
I think I see why it's usually women in this specific profession now.
At last, we reach what I guess you could call cruising altitude. I look over in the direction of the south gate, and I'm encouraged to see a massive group of troops making their way toward the Risen threat. Hopefully this will be all that's needed to quell the tide.
As we circle the battlefield, Gaius waves at us cheerfully from behind Sumia. "Hiiii Bear~!" he shouts as they approach from the opposite direction. "Hi Mom!"
Cordelia grunts her disapproval. I weakly wave back with the hand holding Ruin, still doubled over in testicular trauma. I consider asking if Cordelia has a vulnerary up here but decide it can wait.
We take a wide turn and start descending toward the crowd of Risen. I was never any good at taking shots from motion. I was even shit at horseback archery in Ocarina of Time. But I have to trust Cordelia knows what she's doing.
"This thing has a hell of a kick. Be ready for that," I warn her as we get close to firing range. She nods in understanding. I take a deep breath to calm my mind and prepare to fire. Taking my arm off of Cordelia's torso is the scariest part, as I'm counting on my legs and the stirrups to keep me in place until after I've fired.
We reach a height of about twenty feet off the ground, close enough that there's no such thing as 'missing' at this range. I let loose a blast at the ground, knocking us leftward and making me panic for a split second, certain I'm going to fall into the Risen below. However, I grab ahold of Cordelia in time to steady myself as she leans into the kick and turns us about left to begin ascending again.
Only now do I look to see what I hit. Looks like it was right on target; a massive cloud of shadow bugs lingers where probably seven or eight Risen were caught in the middle of the blast. This tome was basically made for a fight like this, where the enemy is densely packed and not at all maneuverable.
"You alright?" Cordelia asks. "That was a powerful shot!"
"Yeah, I'm good. Just can't do it again right away. I need a minute to breathe," I reply.
"Well, if you don't mind then, I'm going to do this," Cordelia says, readying a Thunder bolt of her own and lobbing it down into the crowd, hitting a Risen in the chest.
I chuckle. "By all means, fire at will, Cordy."
And so she and I get into a nice rhythm. She takes us down so I can shoot a Ruin blast at the crowd, then she pulls up and out of the range of their mages while I take a minute to breathe, and in the meantime she takes a few Thunder potshots at the enemy. We keep an eye out for someone resembling a commander among them, but we don't see one, human or Risen. Just an unruly mob whose goal seems to be simply to enter the city and cause chaos.
From up here, we can witness the encouraging sight of the city guard pressing in on the Risen's southern flank, forcing them into a corner and even making some of them funnel back out of the broken gate. The Shepherds slowly shift more to the north side of the street, with a few of our more mobile units like Stahl, Panne, Sully, and Vaike breaking away into the alleys to pursue any Risen attempting to use the side streets to evade them. Meanwhile, the Feroxi main force has the opportunity to form up proper lines across the street and start marching forward.
In all, the Risen force is getting thoroughly compacted into a tight, unmanageable spot. A spot that someone with an area-of-effect attack like mine can take full advantage of. And we do.
It's exhausting work firing blast after blast, but I can't deny for a second that it isn't cathartic as hell. Because the Risen aren't 'programmed' to run or surrender, it doesn't occur to them to do anything like retreating, and they all stay handily compacted into an ever-shrinking space. Like shooting fish in a barrel, only with much less guilt.
After a while, the battle starts winding down. The Risen's lines break, and the city guard and Feroxi forces start cutting down the stragglers. Cordelia turns toward the now mostly clear main street and descends, touching back down with thankfully much more grace than we took off with.
Robin and the khans are waiting for me when I dismount.
"Excellent work up there, Randy," Robin says with a satisfied smile. "Are you or Cordelia hurt at all?"
"I wouldn't mind a swig of vulnerary, actually. Takeoff was… a bit rough," I reply.
Robin and Flavia don't immediately understand, but Basilio starts laughing, a full, rich sound. "One of many reasons you'd never catch me on one of those things," he says.
Robin raises an eyebrow, looking me up and down, no doubt looking for damage. "Alright," she says at last, handing over a small vial but clearly not understanding.
Relief washes over me as the rosemary liquid slides down my throat and is immediately distributed to all my afflictions. Compared to the jewel battery, I hadn't really noticed how much my muscles are killing me until after the vulnerary started to do its work in healing the aches. This battle really was a slog.
I feel a soft but unnerving touch on my shoulder, like feeling a spider suddenly crawling on you. When I turn to see who it is, I'm not surprised to see Tharja. "You looked like a natural up there. You've come a long way," she says in her usual scheming tone.
"Uh, thanks," I reply. "I do my best."
"I definitely look forward to resuming your training," she says a little too sweetly.
"We'll see," I say with a nervous laugh.
The other Shepherds slowly trickle in from down the street. Frederick and Imperium trot over, both looking proud and tall.
"That was an impressive display, Randall and Cordelia. You work well together. And that magic was truly intimidating," Frederick says approvingly. "I'm relieved to see that all those months without my guidance didn't result in your skills falling by the wayside."
"I couldn't let all your work go to waste," I reply with a laugh. "If anything, I grew stronger than ever during my time as a captive."
"Admirable," Frederick says. "You have done the Shepherds proud."
The rest of the Shepherds regroup around us. A few others comment on my use of Ruin, but frankly I'm relieved to be done using it for the day. Despite the vulnerary, I'm truly exhausted.
Chrom and Maribelle approach. Robin steps forward to greet them.
"Chrom, Judge Maribelle. The defense hereby requests a day's recess to recover from this whole debacle," she says, stowing her tomes away as she speaks.
"Granted," Maribelle replies without hesitation. "You couldn't force me back into that courtroom right now with a blade to my throat. We will reconvene tomorrow morning."
I look back at Flavia. "So, does that mean I can look forward to another day of Litica's company?" I ask.
Flavia frowns thoughtfully. "I didn't expect you to sound so enthused at the prospect. Maybe I should have only used men after all."
"And deny me a chance to get acquainted with Ferox's most eligible bachelorette? Perish the thought, Khan."
I could swear I see the ghost of a smile flash across her face for the briefest of instants.
"In any case, I think at this point, further surveillance will not be necessary. I don't believe you were responsible for this attack today. The only reason you would have done that would be to save your own skin, but the way you threw yourself into battle over and over flies in the face of that theory. I can at least concede that you are willing to face trial for what happened during the war and won't attempt to take the coward's way out." She leans in close. "Don't make me regret this. Or I'll make sure you'll regret it too."
"Right," I stammer. "Will do."
The other healers, the ones who actually have equipment to heal, get to work mending the wounds of the injured. In the end, six Feroxi soldiers and nine city guardsmen were critically wounded and have to be transported back to the city center for further care. A battle at this scale having no casualties on our side is a borderline miracle, but it does make me question whether the goal of this attack was even to cause widespread death.
After all, if Aversa was behind this, she really could have done a lot more damage than this. As a flier herself, she probably could have gotten over the city walls without being seen in time to stop her from summoning the mass of Risen in the middle of a residential district. We could have had a civilian death toll of catastrophically high proportions. Instead, they were summoned outside the gate and had to break through it to get inside.
It's like it was a show. But if it was a show, who was the intended audience? All of Ylisstol? Was this to remind us that we're never fully safe? That the end of the war doesn't mean the end of our troubles? What benefit would it confer to Aversa for us to think that? Wouldn't it make more sense to lull us into a false sense of security?
But there's something else. Something I have to talk to Robin about, because I know she's already puzzling about it herself.
For now, though, we just focus on getting everyone regrouped and assigning some of the guard to begin the process of repairing the broken gate. The civilians who had until now been holed up in their homes begin venturing outside again and quickly start volunteering to help with the repair efforts. It looks like things have finally calmed down around here.
Only now do I look down and see that my formerly nice brown suit has been slashed and ripped and generally ruined. I should have tried to look into an alternative outfit for this battle, or had Robin stash some armor somewhere. Oh well.
The Shepherds are dismissed, and everyone starts making their weary way back to the barracks for food and rest. The khans approach Robin and me on their horses.
"Need a ride back to the palace?" Basilio asks.
Robin reads my mind. "No thanks, khans. Randall and I would like some time to just decompress and have a nice, calming walk back."
Basilio shrugs. "Suit yourselves. Come on," he says, then he and Flavia ride off to the west.
Robin and I pick a side street and start walking in the general direction of the palace. Only when I'm sure we're out of earshot of everyone else do I finally stop walking.
I can't contain my feelings any longer. "Second run! Second fucking run baby!" I shout, practically dancing. I shoot my hand in the air. "Come on, baby, right fucking here! Up high!"
Robin looks around uneasily for a second before deciding my way is more fun. She slaps my hand, hard, and the burn afterward feels perfect. "Second fucking run!" she shouts. She raises both fists in the air. "Woohoo!"
"A million and a half of those undead fucks, and we got it on the second goddamn try," I say, almost delirious with relief. "Not today you Grimleal bastards! Yeeeah baby!"
"Gods, there were so many of them," Robin sighs, coming down from our momentary celebratory high. "I thought it would never end."
"But we did it. We did it," I say, clenching Ruin in my hand. "You and me. Not a single casualty."
"Which we need to talk about, by the way," she says. "I'm sure you've been putting it together too."
"That this attack wasn't meant to cause much death and destruction, but rather send a message? Yeah, I've been thinking about it." We start walking again.
"It's not just that, though. The change in the point of origin from the south gate to the east gate. That's… significant, to say the least. There are a few explanations that I can think of. But I want to hear what you think first."
"Well, there's always the possibility that whoever summoned the Risen—by the way, I'm pretty sure it was Aversa—was able to see the consolidation of forces at the south gate and preemptively moved to the east gate to catch us off-guard. But if that's the case, that leaves a major gap in her logic: why not just summon them right in the middle of the city? She presumably could have, if she had just flown over the walls and landed inside. I'm sure a lone flier getting past our security wouldn't have been impossible or even especially difficult."
"So you think there was another reason she did this," Robin says.
"I think the message was for you and me. Specifically. And I think the message was that someone out there knows about our respawning power."
She nods. "Then we came to the same conclusion. I just wanted to be sure that I wasn't overthinking the matter."
"But Jesus Christ, that raises a lot of questions. Not least of which is, assuming she knows we have this power, why on earth Aversa would want to telegraph that to us."
"It's a means of getting inside our heads. As things are, you and I are the most powerful members of the Shepherds, because foreknowledge about what is going to happen is an incredibly useful tool in any tactician's repertoire. But if the Grimleal show us that we can't trust our foreknowledge because they can change things, then it plants seeds of doubt in our heads. It sacrifices the chance to reveal this at a more advantageous time down the line, but it will make us apprehensive about making any moves against the Grimleal at all in the future."
"But how did they get this knowledge about our power in the first place?"
"Does it have something to do with Grima? You told me that Grima is a powerful, almost godlike being. Is it possible he knows about this power? Hell, is it possible he's the reason this power exists?"
I shake my head. "There's nothing about Grima that I'm aware of that should give him powers like that. But…"
Grima is probably somewhere out there right now, though. The one who would later pose as the "hierophant" of the Grimleal. Robin's doppelgänger from the future. The one who has presumably possessed her, body and possibly soul.
"It's not impossible that Grima might know about our power, actually. I don't know how Grima's possession works exactly. I'm not sure if it's just a bodily possession or if he takes control of your mind as well. Whether he has access to your thoughts and memories. If that's true, it's possible Grima knows that we have this power. In fact, if future-me was as open with future-you as I have been with you, Grima might even be aware of the script this world's story was supposed to follow."
I remember something. It first happened at Darros Town, when we were forced to fight Victor and Vincent on the same day. Then it happened again in the deserts of Plegia, when we were ambushed in the middle of the desert by Chalard's Grimleal forces. On both occasions, there was a significant departure from the game's story that wasn't caused by me. Instead, both Vincent and Chalard indicated that some "traveler" had tipped them off about us. As if that traveler had known what I expected the battles to be and changed them accordingly to throw me off. Of course, after that, everything went so far off script that I can't know where else this traveler has been intervening.
Robin interrupts my train of thought. "What does this mean for us?"
"It could mean a lot of things, and none of them great. If Grima is aware of the script and is aware of our respawn power, we're going to need to come up with something that works around Grima's foreknowledge."
"How sure are you that this is all the case?" Robin asks.
"It's hard to say. But there's something I didn't tell you about the battles we fought before you and I confirmed that we share the power. I didn't think much of it at the time, but I think Grima might have been manipulating events for longer than I initially thought. Both in our battle at Darros Town and our battle against the Grimleal in the desert, the enemy got the drop on us before the script indicated they should have. Both times, the leader said something that suggested a traveler had told them we were approaching well in advance. This is why those Grimleal were able to set up an ambush against us. Obviously, both Vincent and Chalard are dead, so they can't tell us anything more about this traveler. But I think it might be possible this traveler is Grima, or at least one of his operatives."
"Why would this traveler do this? If he knew about our respawning power, wouldn't it be pointless to change up the battles if we could just try them again until we get them right?" she asks.
"That's the hard part. If I'm right, and the intended message today was that the enemy is aware of our power, then maybe the previous interventions were meant to be precursors to the same message."
We're both silent for a while, contemplating the implications of this. "Randy, I think that once this trial is over, you and I need to sit down and go over the entire script as you remember it," Robin says after a while. "We need to mark where the changes have happened and what changes they might have spawned down the line. We need to separate the changes that have occurred because you were here from the changes that happened outside of your influence. Then we might be able to glean a pattern to Grima's actions, or whoever this person or group is."
"Alright, that sounds smart," I reply. Neither of us has anything else to say for an uncomfortable few seconds. "Jesus, even if we know the goal was to get inside our heads, that didn't stop it from working like a charm," I say with a bitter laugh.
"No kidding," Robin says. "For now, we just need to focus on getting you through this trial. One thing at a time."
After an ordeal like we had with the Risen, it's no wonder that pretty much everyone is out of commission by the time Robin and I get back to the barracks. I definitely empathize. I somehow summon the strength to climb two flights of stairs to get to the third floor. I shed my shredded outfit and go directly to my bed. I manage to pull my blanket about halfway up my body before I lose consciousness.
My dreams are chaotic and terrifying. I dream of an endless tide of Risen, piling up and rising from the ground, too many for the ground to hold, a literal rising wave of the dead. They spill over the walls of the city and flood the streets, a tsunami of groaning rot pouring into the capital and drowning everyone inside the city walls. The flood grows so tall that it reaches my bedroom window, and the glass breaks, allowing the Risen to spill inside. I try to stab them and slash them with Longinus, but nothing works. The blade seems to enter and exit without damaging a thing. I can do nothing but curl into a ball on my bed and close my eyes, trying to pretend the feeling of being surrounded by decaying, rotten flesh biting at every inch of me isn't real. As the Risen's teeth enter my throat, I wake up with a cry, panting for breath.
It's the middle of the night. No Risen anywhere in sight. Just a dream, all of it. I take a deep, slow breath.
Everything that happened today keeps pulsing in my mind. The attack, the many possible implications, the reality that a confrontation with Grima is getting closer by the day, not to mention the trial continuing in the morning. I need a goddamn vacation.
It takes a long time, and an incredible amount of tossing, turning, and rolling, but I eventually get back to sleep.
A/N: Another day, another update! Just kidding, please don't get used to this update schedule. Even though it's going to happen again tomorrow. Randall and Robin's first respawn since rescuing Emmeryn, and the first one I've written in... *checks notes*... holy shit, almost three years. That's wild. Also, fun fact, this is the shortest chapter we've had since the Lucina's birthday flashback episode in chapter 36. I found that interesting. Here's your Mixed Valence out-of-context quote of the week: "I technically wrote Frog and Toad fanfiction in second grade."
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As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!