His head was pounding.
He didn't know why but it was killing him how much it wouldn't stop.
Trying to shake it off he groaned as he turned his whole body to the other side he was facing to move the discomfort from his left to his right.
Instead he felt a light flashing at his closed eyelids.
Groaning again, he dragged a hand over his face before slowly opening his eyes. A blur of his surroundings was all he could see before his vision decided to defog itself for a better view of things.
Blades, or blades of grass to be exact. They curved and swayed in front of him with the sunlight helping them shine a pretty light green. Teasing him, they fan in front of his face. Not touching but close enough to feel like it had.
Enraptured by it, his hand played with the blades of grass as it curled and tickled at his fingers. He never did see grass this green since…..since…
That's right!!
Suddenly his sleepy mind was jolted awake. His body no longer feeling heavy with numbness as he became hyperawer of his surrounding. Quickly sitting up from his laid back position where he slept, his hands frantically felt around his waist for his sword.
It wasn't there.
Panic clawed its way to his throat as moved his hands to the grass once again to try and find the familiar feel of the wooden handle of his, no, their sword.
He couldn't have lost it. He couldn't have. He made sure, ever since his last breath, he would take care of that sword in his fathers place. With that sword he was supposed to protect his mother.
He failed…
He was supposed to protect the royal family.
I failed….
He was supposed to help protect Lucina's laugh.
I failed you….
He was suppose to protect them all.
I failed you fath-
A sting of pain erupted near the side of his palm.
Hissing, he retreaded his hand back to his chest. He opened his fist cautiously but with a strange feeling of hope as he does. His left hand had a thin line of open skin, gathering with crimson around the edges before it became a droplet falling onto the grass.
He sucked in a small breath of air.
Retracing where his hand once been, he saw the silver metal of his Killing Edge reflecting the light of the sun with a few spots of blood near the tip.
Relief washed over him, it felt like his body was going to drop from the reassurance that it wasn't lost, that he didn't fail his father's last words.
Though shaken, his left hand reached for the handle. Gripping it, he brought the blade closer to his face, checking if it was truly his blade, if was truly his father's blade that he was holding in his grasp.
Inscripted in the handle, barely covered by his thumb, he could see the name of the one that both he and his father hold dear.
Lissa
It was his, it was theirs…
Tears pooled before slowly rolling down his cheeks. Laughing a bit he used his arm to wipe them away as he breath a smile.
For those few moments, he let himself relax for the first time since the news that the Risen have came back arrived at his doorstep. He never could forget the look of his mother's face when she heard the news from one of the castles guards. How she refuses to go back to Yeliss even when the guard tried to make her change her mind. How the guard gave her a hug before flying off in her pegasus with a look of deep regret.
Thinking about it now, it felt almost like a nightmare then a distant dream.
Rolling his shoulders with a pop, he made a grab for his bag (which he found out he still had when looking for his sword on him) and opened it to see if anything was missing when he cross through.
After a bit of searching, he found four vulneraries, a bottle of water, flint, some money, some bandages, a few dry potatoes, dried up meat, some clothes and his broken staff from his mother.
He could lose everything but would be in peace if he still had his sword and staff by his side.
After using the bandages and one of the bottles of vulneraries to disinfect the wound, he prompt himself to look around his surroundings. Done with his search he tried to see where the sun was but was limited by the trees in his was. As it so happens, he found himself in the midst of some sort of thick forest, tree tops letting small rays of light but not a clear view of the sky.
Disdain that he had to climb, he jumped from branch to branch till his head was popped out of the field of leaves. Finally with the sun in view, and measuring with his hand to see the time of day, he jumped down to make camp for the coming dusk.
By the time the sound of crickets chirping reach his ears he had a campfire going with the two potatoes cooking, one for tonight and the morning. He was use to eat very little, it wasn't like one could simply find food in such dark times when every village they meet was either destroyed or in the midst of collapsing. Game was rare to find, dead from the smoke or the lack of food for themselves to eat while crops were especially scares. At one point they thought about making a small farm but was dub to much time for the crops to grow as well as troublesome to stay in one spot for any Risen to pick on. So as you would expect, food was incredibly hard to find, forcing them to salvage whatever they could find.
It was a miracle he could still fight with the diet he has.
Watching the fire crackle and pop he couldn't help but think about the others. Where they are, what are they doing right now, are they all alright or are they not here yet? At what point in time did he come back? Was his mother still alive? Were his parents even together?
Thoughts swarm his head, question after question before he stopped himself going to deep.
First he has to figure out where in the world is he. He could find a town or village, listen in the gossip that might be floating around and hope that he is not going to meet his uncle and his Shepherds anytime soon. Once that's done he should figure out at what point in time was he in. before the war or was he to late? Was he in the beginning of their journey or was his past self born?
"Gahh!"
Yelling, he grabbed a hold of his dark black hair and gave it a hard scratch. Hoping that this would help his mind stop straying too far from his thoughts.
Unfortunately that just made his scalp red from the scratching.
Not wanting to repeat, he used one of the sticks that he gather to roll both his dinner and breakfast away from the fire for him to grab. After playing with the steaming hot vegetable from burning his hand, he savor the flavor as he took a small bite. He wanted to devore his portion right then and there. But he knew that if he were to do so, then he would not have food for the long journey he may encounter. Until he finds a town, multiple game, or have a heap load of gold coins then he would relax and eat to his heart's content.
For now, he does not wish to selfish with what little he has.
He took the last bite of the vegetable with his stomach still feeling empty. Yet his mind tricking it to think it was full. Only the fact that his mind told him that he ate the meal of a rabbit was the only sign he had that he was empty.
It was nothing short of a miracle that he could still fight with very little fuel.
Then again ...worse thing happen to him than eating a lot less.
With that said, he made himself comfortable sitting with the trunk of a tree as his pillar to hold him up right. A trick he learned from Frederick when they went camping once.
Now looking like he was rather awake when he goes to sleep, he searched the shadows once again before closing his eyes.
o~0~*~0~o
The two most powerful warriors are patience and time
-Leo Tolstoy
o~0~*~0~o
Another day in the forest, another day to sleep under the stars…
...another day to cry himself to sleep.
He needs to stop though. He can't continue walking like a puppet on strings anymore. It wasn't like him. Wasn't like him at all.
But guess that's why he does this to himself, because there's no one in the woods to see him take off his mask.
During the days that went by he found plenty of game. So much so that he could only eat on portion of meat before calling it a day. His stomach was not used to eating so much food, much less a healthy amount of it. So as the days went by he would only kill one animal every day, eating a little more each day knowing that this world was not yet at the brink of famine.
Yet his mind keep playing tricks on him. Sometimes when he is searching for something other than trees he could see movement around the corners, shadows always looking like they had a killer hidden underneath them. He couldn't count how many times he swiped his blade only to realize that it was his imagination and that there were no Risen after him.
He hated it, he hated being scared of this world that was yet to hit disaster. He hated it so much.
Then after a week living in those woods he encountered one.
He encountered a Risen.
He was resting near a stream that he was lucky enough to find. After filling up his empty water bottle and the empty vulnerarie bottle that he used before, he decided to take his own filling by drinking directly from the stream.
That was a mistake it seems.
One second he was kneeling down at the river stream and then the next thing he knew, he was knocked onto the ground with in open gash of skin on his side.
He gasped, not of pain but in surprise. He did not think someone would sneak up to him, especially in these woods. He had not seen any sights of anything man-made yet someone has attacked him out of the blue.
Hearing the swinging of a blade coming down at him, he quickly rolled alway and hurried to his feet.
And froze.
In front of him wasn't a traveler or bandits or mercenary or hunter. It was a Risen. A decayed, magically living, heart stopping Risen.
He gulped.
So many thoughts swarmed through his mind, stinging him as he stared at its glowing eyes.
Was he too late, was he really too late? Did the terrible future that he lived his whole life in already in motion? Did Grima reall-
No, he has to focus, he's about to die if he just stood there.
He only had a second to calm down before the Risen aimed at him. From the looks of the tome in its hand with that big floppy hat and robes, he could tell that this was a mage he was dealing with.
On instinct, he dodges to the side before a strike of electricity hit the ground next to him. That a quick glance, the grass was blackened and smoking with ash as its remains. If he is not careful then he would end up like that as well, living for a second before death do him part.
No, he mustn't think like that. He has to stay positive. He has to think heroic. He has to think like a true hero.
Just like that he was the hero of this chapter book story.
"Ha! You think you could defeat the hero of darkness!? Why what a daring brethren you would spin!"
His vocabulary is shorting, he needs to fix that soon.
The Risen didn't react to his outburst, instead it raised its hand again to shoot another bolt of lightning. Owain saw this and only ran towards the Risen, not stopping even when he heard the crackle of static. Just as he was in front of the Risen, the sound of thunder clapping rang in his ears as he ducked down and spun his leg at his oppointes legs. The Risen shrieked as it fell, too focused on charging his magic in one hand. As he went down, Owain barely missed the bolt that tried to shock him, holding back a hiss when he felt it graze his skin. That was going to leave a mark if he doesn't use heal it soon.
Jumping back from his crouched position, he hurried to stab his Killing Edge right through the yellow covered tome so that it was deemed useless. Seeing this, the Risen aimed to grab him by his legs but only retired as his arm got cut off with purple mist flying were the stump was. Whatever the Risen was going to do was wasted as Owain cut a large gap onto the Risen;s back. It screamed once more before becoming a purple mist once more.
Breathing heavily, he dropped to the ground as he hugged his knees to his chest and buried his head in his arms before crying.
This world was not safe after all. This world has already faced the tragedy that took his home. He did not come back in time, he was just to late.
He didn't know how long he cried there, thinking how he didn't make it in time before he suddenly stops when he felt something hugging him.
He paused, not bothering lifting his head. Who ever was hugging him was warm. Not as in heat by the way they did so kind of reminded him of how his mother hugged him. Filled with love and compassion and promises. That is what it felt like.
He didn't want to pull away. Heck, he wanted to stay there and forget about everything that this world made him suffer through because this hug was all he needed in this world. But he was weary of who had hugged him.
Still not pulling away he lifted his head, not really planning on what he would do next when he paused. In his line of vision he could see hair, flowing olive green hair.
His breath hitched.
His mind stopped.
His heart cried.
It was….
Spinning around with so much speed that he almost fell to the ground, he wrapped his arms around her, not caring if she saw him cry or how very un-Owain like he was acting. He did not care even one bit if she was here.
"Severa!"
The arms around him held him tighter as a hand weaved its way to him hair, gently stroking it.
He choked on his own sobs when he felt her hand. It was so unlike her to have so much love in a single touch much less have her tongue snap back at him to stop crying like a baby. It felt so warm and tender that he gaped when he felt her hug him tighter.
At first he didn't question it. It just wanted all of his problems to go way as he held her, not caring anymore about the Risen or the future or his failure.
Yet his mind caught up to him, telling him that this was wrong and that something wasn't right at all. She would never act like this as much as it pains him to say so. Beside how would ever Severa find her way to him in the first place without snapping at him. This wasn;t Severa and he knew it.
By now his sobbs have stopped leaving his eyes red and tear marks on his cheeks as proof of his cries. Mind whirling and breath trying to stay steady, he lifted his face to see if it was truly the girl who he had thought was holding him in their arms.
He did not expect this.
It truly was Severa, but she was different at the same time. Her hair was no longer in her pigtails, let loose as they entangled themselves with the grass. Inwardly he winced before freezing. Severa would never have let her hair touch anything that might dirty it much less tangle it.
He whimpered out of fear.
Her face was blank. He held no emotion or signs of why she was hugging him with such love but she was merely emotionless. Her eyes held no light with her skin a sickly pale white.
A scream clawed at his throat as he saw her chest.
Right in the middle was a hole, an open gash. The skin was ragged and messy, chunks of flesh were barely attached to her body as they hung loosely. Who ever had left the wound on her didn't seem to care of a clean sweep.
His eyes bugged.
It was still bleeding. There was crust of dried up blood yes but it was still bleeding. Crimson blood osed out, taunting him as slowly trailed down to the ground.
His first reaction was to cover up the wound but was deemed impossible when he felt her arms locking over his body again into a hug.
He needed to scream.
He could still feel warmth, but it wasn't from her arms as they now felt cold ever through his clothes. The blood sticking to him. His chest was covered with it now. Trying to remove himself from her he tried to grab her shoulders and pushed her back but she wouldn't bugch.
"Severa ...please.."
He didn't know what he was begging for but all he wanted was to get away from her.Still trying to push her he suddenly felt her gripping him tighter.
His lungs were being closed off from air, breathing he gasped out. "Severa ...stop it …..Severa please…"
She didn't listen to him. Face still emotionless she crushed him more and more till he felt his bones beginning to crush.
"...pl ...ra...top…..no…"
His vision was failing him, he could no longer feel anything with his hand flopped helplessly to his side as his eyes straining to stay open.
His ears were ringing so badly that it hurts. He could barely hear anything over his gasp of shallow breaths and the ear splitting ring, but even so he could hear very clearly when she spoke in a voice he always dreaded.
"You can't stop this world destiny worm. No one can ever defeat the Fell Dragon Grima!"
He woke up with a start and a new revolution in mind.
He will not submit to that dragon ever again. He will stop his future from happening. He will defeat every foe that came in his way. And he swore on his parents graves that he would protect them. He would protect them all, everyone…
As the prince of the new future fair Yiless, he will protect its future at any cost.
For he is Prince Owain, the son of Princess Lissa and the Khan Lon'qu.
o~0~*~0~o
Information given:
-Owain, son of Lissa and Lon'qu