Yo. In this chapter, Garon is only half evil incarnate, and Corrin isn't pushed around as easily as sentient systems seems to believe he should be.
Because really, you take an amnesic, give him the best tutors in warfare your country has to offer, and pump his head full of propaganda for at least ten years, and you get Corrin? Not on my watch, buster.
Also, first (And hopefully last) retcon: Gunter is now the lord of the Northern fortress. Not earth shattering or anything, just one of those little details that helps move the story along.
Additionally, if it looks like I barely proofread this...yeah. I don't have a beta or anything, and I can only read my own stuff so many times...but even still, this was rushed.
"Ah, Lord Corrin Garronson, a pleasure to meet you in person, after all these years."
Corrin turned to the voice that had accosted him before he could so much as take three steps away from the room, mood already soured by his brother's obstinance, and not at all improved by the chipper, gray haired man he had never seen before.
Corrin nonetheless kept his face neutral when he addressed that stranger "Forgive me, but though you seem to be acquainted to me, though I don't recall ever meeting you. Who are you, exactly?"
The man gave a quick but graceful bow, allowing Corrin to see the coat-of-arms painted on it's back- a black rose, with dark draconic wings stretching wide from the stem, and a crown placed around the it's base "I apologize, with milord Alekzander's speaking of you, I feel nearly as though I have known you for years! I am Laslow, retainer to Crown Prince Alekzander, humbly at your service."
Corrin examined the man, somewhat unimpressed. He wore a high-quality gambeson, and at his side was an ornate sword and mace, and while his quilted pants showed no wear, no Nohrian noble would be caught in Windmire without flaunting his ancestral armor, much less castle Krakenburg. Furthermore, while he hid it well, the man had a slight accent, only really revealed in how he said Xander's given name, and was not much older than Corrin himself. Furthermore, Xander had left the capital on business, had he not?
"Should you not be at my brother's side then? He was sent on a mission this earlier, as I recall."
Laslow chuckled nervously "I apologize my lord, but I am here on punishment. It would seem I have upset some important noble lord or another with my 'inappropriate and dishonorable ways'. Milord intends to meet with a duke whom I've clashed with due to my philandering ways- he has quite the lovely younger sister who is quite the skilled dancer- and milord would like to avoid isolating himself from this powerful house because his retainer is a hopeless philanderer. I am sure that our Crown Prince will be fine without me."
"So that is it then." Corrin felt his opinion of the young retainer falling far and quickly "So you are here to guide me through this castle?"
Lazlow gave a crooked smile at that "For the time being at least, but more than that, your father is ready to receive you in his gardens, and I was tasked with bringing you to him."
Corrin looked down at the sheet of paper in his hand, somewhat disappointed that he would have to postpone his reunion with his younger sister "Do you know the purpose of his summons? Does he have a task in mind for me?"
Lazlow shook his head "No, I believe he simply wishes to make amends with the boy he was forced to lock away for his own protection." Lazlow glanced at the sheet Corrin held "That is for Lady Elise, I presume? I can take it while you meet with your father, and should you need to depart, I will see to it that it arrives in her hands, but should you be free upon your farewell to your father, I shall guide you to her chambers."
Corrin nodded, reluctantly handing over the composition to Lazlow, who accepted it gracefully. "Very well, stay with me, Castle Krakenburg is more a palace than a keep, and I've seen only two castles that rival it in size and nonsense, neither of which are in Nohr. It would not do to bring dishonor to Milord Alekzander in losing you."
Despite his misgivings of the man, Corrin found Lazlow to be a capable guide. The young retainer was apt in pointing out different patterns in the stained glass and tapestries within the castle as means of pathfinding. Contrary to Corrin's initial belief, not all of Castle Krakenburg was enclosed, perhaps not even most of it was; many doors and halls opened to outdoor stone bridges that weaved out of and around the main keep, or outdoor areas with earth and grass, which Lazlow took at every turn, explaining that they were faster and that it was easier to keep track of one's path when not suffocated by four identical walls.
The expedition ended in one such stone bridge, weaving about the outside of the keep, above some of the more middling towers. Lazlow came to an abrupt stop near the door at the end of the bridge, feeding back into the main keep. The retainer made an exaggerated bow before the door, and remained still, waiting for Corrin to enter. Corrin nodded, somewhat unnerved, confused as to why he was brought all the way out here, but walked past regardless, and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
A magnificent garden greeted Corrin on the other side, flowers of all sorts bloomed, separated only by small cobble paths. The room itself was magnificent; ornate stone bricks of gold, black, purple, and maroon lined the walls in ornate patterns that could draw the eye and lead it in circles for hours. The ceiling wasn't a ceiling at all, instead made of large, polygonal pieces of glass that formed an intricate dome above, drinking and trapping what little light and warmth dripped through Nohr's dark skies. What couldn't be lit by the ornate ceiling (which was most things) was lit not by torches and braziers as was common in the rest of the castle, but by numerous modest wax candles that lined the ground about the cobblestone path and each patch of earth.
In the center of it all, his father sat upon a simple stone bench, hands clasped in prayer before a stone effigy of some sorts, vaguely resembling a dragon. Gone was the magnificent armor that inflated him, casting a shadow about whatever room he resided in. In its place was a rich velvet cloak that draped over him in many folds, and with his slumped shoulders and bowed head Corrin might have mistaken him for an augur or shaman rather than a king- and a sorry shaman at that.
Corrin approached his father from behind, but if he noticed- and Corrin was certain he must have noticed- he was not distracted from his prayer. Unsure what to do, Corrin bowed his head in respect of the odd effigy, waiting for his father to finish. And several minutes passed like this in tense silence.
"I did not expect you to arrive so soon." Corrin raised his head at his father's words and tried not to startle at the sight of him. The man before him was a far cry from the boisterous king that greeted him in his hall, in his place was a solemn, tired man who had watched far too many nights pass when he could have slept. As the tired king rose, Corrin began to grasp how great of an illusion that king was; the armor may have inflated his presence, but the rich robe almost seemed to make him shrink in on himself, as if he was attempting to hide his frame in its folds. His shoulders could not possibly have matched the width of Xander's.
Corrin immediately took a knee before his king, "Is there something I can do to alleviate your troubles, father?"
Garon stared at Corrin's display of subservience wordlessly, then shook his slowly, a solemn but genuine smile on his face. "There is no need for that, my son, any of it. This crisis will pass, it always does, though the night does never end." Garon stepped forward- close enough that Corrin could taste the powerful perfume his father wore. Garon placed his hands on Corrin's shoulders, and slowly hoisted him to his feet. "As it were, you have earned time call this place home, I'd not tear you from it the very day you arrive."
Garon stepped away, facing the effigy again "I thank you for showing due respect during my prayers. Do you know what this effigy represents?"
Corrin stared hard at it, uncertain. It was the neck of a dragon, ending in a dragon's maw, but from where fangs would typically sprout a large orb with many eyes rested, seemingly watching everything at once "It appears to be a dragon, but not the dusk dragon; it lacks the one eye. Is this a lesser deity?"
Garon's warm smile abruptly turned to a frown, and he shook his head, "No, his following is not as great, but his powers are greater, so it is not surprising that you did not recognize him. It is Anankos, the allseer, father of dragons. I am afraid I have not prayed to the dusk dragon in some time… he brings me only worries, for his people, and I can not understand his vision for us. But in all this, prayer to Anankos gives me solace… it eases my heart."
"You did not strike me as a pious man, father."
Garon whirled back on Corrin, shock and insult on his face, and for a single moment King Garon has back in full fury, and Corrin was terrified by his slip of the tongue.
And then it faded from his face instantly, and Garon the weary returned. "I suppose I would not… I was not always King, that was the title of my brother, Bohemond. I was to become a scribe and augr in his service… but the monastic life was not for me, and I offered my sword to him rather than my pen…at least, before the pox took him." Garon shook his head wistfully, "I abandoned my faith for a time… stricken with the loss of my brother, then my wife, and then bitterness at the Dusk Dragon for handing me a kingdom so stricken with strife for a purpose I could not comprehend…and then for my many buried children." Garon shook his head, as Corrin could only take in his father's words, stricken with shock and the man's grief.
But then Garon turned back to the effigy "But I have my duty…Anankos promises something more. He gives us knowledge, wisdom… Look upon this garden, and pick you favorite plant."
Corrin looked over the plants that encircled the bench, eventually setting his eyes on a large, colorful bush with berries of a vibrant purple hue. Garon nodded "Yes, nightwraith, a beautiful, hardy plant, it can grow all throughout Nohr… unfortunately, they are poison to horses, and they kill grass where they grow. Landowners are bound by law to burn any they find."
Corrin looked at the bush in horror "Why would you grow such a plant in this garden?"
Garon chuckled at that, "A king and augr I may be, but I am not a gardener…no, this garden was built by my wife, Arete, she was a remarkable woman, with a bitter love of irony. Almost every plant here is a threat to Nohr… and yet they flourish here, even at the expense of crops our subjects require." Garon's expression again became wistful. "She was brilliant though, she intended to try to make from them a plant with edible roots that could thrive in our soil… sadly, she has passed, and no one has the wisdom to continue her work. Even so, I come here frequently, to keep the fruits of her labor alive." Garon pointed at the door through which Corrin had entered, and to the young prince's surprise he found tools that were similar to farming implements- knives small shovels that would fit in one's hand, a sack of angrily buzzing insects… and items of increasing nonsense.
Corrin was able to recall that his father had married twice, and his only legitimate son was Xander, whom he sired with his first wife, Katerina. Speaking of his late wives seemed to bring him a degree of peace… and Corrin stood to learn much from his father. "She must have been a star in the night to bring you to take to farming, father."
Garon laughed- a true honest laugh that seemed to melt years from his face. "Oh, that she was, if only you could see her sing… why, if anyone could listen to her sing they would say the same."
Corrin smiled at Garon's rediscovered mirth, but it was a brief, fleeting thing, quickly replaced by a contemplative frown. Garon, finally shaken from the mood that had gripped him since Corrin's arrival, was quick to notice. "Corrin…I think I've lectured you long enough. It is your turn, what is on your mind, my son?"
Corrin once again took in the visage of his father, even in his better mood his flesh was till gray, eyes still sunken, beard still silver…and he still reeked of perfume.
"What was my mother like?
Garon appeared taken aback by the question, but nodded gently. "I'm not sure what I can tell you… in part for your own safety. Most my concubines had many enemies… as did your mother, and I do not believe the time is right. Suffice to say, she was beautiful, talented, intelligent… she was a remarkable woman all her own."
"Can you at least tell me… did you love her?"
Garon shot up, fire in his eyes, and he almost seemed to double in size before Corrin, and ice gripped his heart, wondering if he had finally gone to far. His father seethed, his voice a great rumble that bounced off the walls of the garden and struck Corrin from every direction "I am not a perfect man. But I loved Katerina and Arete, and I would never force the indignity of concubinage of either of them. Do not PRESUME such things again, or I will be less forgiving."
Corrin could not keep his knees from trembling, and as he fell to the ground, he prostrated himself before his father, "I am sorry, father, I overstepped my bounds, I did not mean to shame their names as I did… my curiosity simply got the better of me."
Garon grumbled, withdrawn. "See that you avoid such indiscretion in the future. Now, I called you for more than a discussion of philosophies. Garon rose and kicked the bench aside, revealing a trap door. Garon wasted no time retreating into the dark, and Corrin was quick to follow him, not wishing to again draw his father's ire.
The trap door opened up to another open courtyard, but this one not much larger than the chambers that had been provided for Corrin to rest. Garon mumbled something in the old tongue, and snapped his fingers, bringing the torches that lined the space to life.
"I am confident that Alexander trained you well." Garon began. "But as king, I am not permitted to act upon faith. Garon reached into his cloak, procuring two wooden longswords, their ends already padded for training, Corrin caught the smaller of the two, and looked at it mesmerized.
"Come at me, show me what my heir was able to accomplish. I will hold back, for your safety."
Corrin suddenly felt apprehensive. In his mind he was eager to do as his father told him, to prove to him that his faith in both himself and Xander wasn't misplaced, that he was ready to devote himself to Nohr. He wanted to test his arm against Garon.
But his blood cried out differently, filling him with apprehension "No matter what you do, you CANNOT fight him. You cannot, cannot, cannot, CANNOT."
"Father," Corrin started, throwing down his sword "I cannot raise a weapon against you, not even a mock weapon. Were I to somehow injure you, I could never overcome my shame."
Garon stared at him, his face hard "Then prepare yourself."
Corrin's father was on top of him nearly before he was able process the statement. Corrin, barely side stepped a heavy overhand blow that would have cracked his head.
"By dusk, Father was serious!"
Corrin could no longer afford to be weaponless. His defense was not nearly as gifted as Xander's, but it was better to try and catch a blow with a longsword then an arm.
Another heavy swing, this one horizontal, forcing Corrin to dive under and reach his practive weapon. Corrin was able to turn and face his father again, just as he rounded his sword about for another strong vertical strike.
"Fine father, I'll show you what I can do,"
Corrin shifted his front foot outside of the strike, and struck the side of Garon's blade with great force, throwing the swing off. As the attack sailed away from him, Corrin redirected the momentum of the strike, swinging hard at Garon's sword the shoulder.
Corrin's arm stopped mid swing though, caught ina vice-like grip. Garon frowned, and yanked him close, too close for Corrin to properly swing, Garon's sword came back around, and the guard slammed into the side of Corrin's head, making him see stars.
"That's not the best you can do, is it? I held a higher opinion of my firstborne son.
Corrin was sufficiently goaded by the insult to Xander, and surged forward, striking hard at Garon's sword in an attempt to open his guard, but Garon's sword barely budged, with Corrin's strike bouncing off ineffectually.
Corrin feinted next, attempting to get his father to shift his guard up an right so he had room to thrust at his side. The feint seemed to work for a moment, drawing his sword away, just before Corrin drew his arm back, and lunged and thrusted at this father's side, closing the distance rapidly.
Only to find Garon's guard had not been opened at all. The large king sidestepped and brought down his raised blade Corrin's arm, striking it with great force. Corrin yelped in pain and shock, and Garon saw the momentum in the engagement shifting, and pushed the attack in earnest.
A strike from the right came, one which Corrin was only barely able to parry, Corrin stepped back once, trying to by time to regain momentum.
Garon stepped forward, redirecting the inertia from Corrin's parry into another vertical slash. Corrin's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly sidestepped and parried, as he did initially, stepping back another step.
Garon shirfted his weight back, pulling his blade out of Corrin's parry before it could be completely redirected, then took two quick steps forward, and lunged, the tip of the sword parting Corrin's hair, and then shifted his weight to his other foot, striking Corrin hard on the head with the flat of his blade.
"That was shameful." Garon exclaimed with disgust, "I expected better."
Corrin scrambled to make an excuse, even as he tried to shake the stars from his vision "I am sorry, father, as I said, I am unable to commit to fighting my father and liege."
"No son of my own would allow such sentiments to prevent him from performing his liege's- his king's- orders."
Corrin's blood roared at the insult, and he launched himself at his father in a frenzy. Garon set his feet and adjusted his guard diagonally, pushing forward the moment that Corrin crashed into him. Armor or no, Corrin's strike collapsed instantly, but Corrin flowed around his guard, even as he took the practice sword by it's blade and hooked his cross guard with his own. Corrin partially disarmed him, yanking his sword nearly from his hand. The king stepped left, trying to place the tangle of blades between them. Corrin had anticipated his, and darted forward, disengaging his locked sword. Corrin was prepared to attempt to score against the king the same way he did Xander; doing something wild and unpredictable that only he could pull off.
Still holding his sword by the blade, he jabbed his father in the stomach with his pommel. King Garon again stepped back, trying to bring his sword back to bear on Corrin, but Corring had already darted forward again, staying just ahead of the king's attempt to face him. Garon's eyes narrowed, and he swung the sword diagonally at him as he turned, attempting to cut him off.
Corrin felt a grin grow on his face. Despite his great practice, Garon's superior size meant holes opened up in his guard when he struck, something that would be impossible to exploit had he been wearing armor, but in this case, a fatal flaw. Corrin stopped, turned on a dime, and darted under his sword arm, pointing the tip upwards at his father's armpit...
And froze for a split instant, at the sound of a crashing up stairs. It was just a tiny pause, not pushing forward as quickly as he would have liked, and he corrected it almost immediately, but Garon's massive hand was already between them, lifting Corrin up, and throwing him back to the ground.
Garon had seen enough, and cast the sword aside, along with his disgusted grimace, and offered Corrin his hand. "That was an interesting final attempt." Garon complimented, as he helped Corrin rise from the ground "Not very Nohrian, but interesting. I cannot say whether or not Xander was right to bring you from your tower…but I'll not argue him on it."
Garon's face was stern, and his words were beyond modest-borderline patronizing- but nonetheless Corrin's pride swelled. His father seemed to notice this, and patted him on the back, "There is still much for you to learn, son, but you will have the opportunity to. Do not, however, allow this to inflate your confidence."
They stood there for a moment, Corrin warm from his father's attention, Garon's face warm with something indecipherable… and then the moment was over. Garon pulled away, face concerned. Corrin paid attention to his ears, listening for what had his father on edge.
A yelp, and then a crash om Arete's garden sent Garon flying for the ladder, Corrin hot on his heels. The two emerged seconds later, and both looked upon the scene with shock. Candles had tipped into the garden, setting fire to one of the plant paddies (wyrmsbane, if Corrin recalled correctly). The garden itself was not quick to burn, judging by the amount of smoke it gave off, as it was well watered and tended to. But the weeds on the other hand, caught fire nearly instantly.
And, to Corrin's horror (but not surprise), at the center of the disaster was Felicia, on her hands and knees, face covered in dirt, dress covered in spilled tea from the tray by the door, desperately (and ineffectively) trying to throw dirt over the fire. Xander's retainer was also present, stamping out the fires with his thick boots, with more luck that Corrin's own retainer.
"NOOOO!" Garon roared, throwing himself at the flaming paddy, throwing his rich cloak over the flames, such that he was covered only in his nightly linens, and angrily stamped on it to quench the fires beneath it.
Somehow, Corrin managed to keep a level head, and as he had done before, ran for the tea, tossing it over the heart of the flames, and then ran for the well, taking a minute to fill a bucket with water, and then using it to quench the perimeter of the fire. Satisfied with how the fire had been contained to a mere quarter of the fifteen by five foot paddy, Corrin swiped his father's rich coat out from under him, wrapped himself in it, and then tossed himself onto the ground, rolling over the fire, again and again, until even the smallest embers had been stifled under his body.
Corrin threw off the cloak quickly, heated far too much for comfort, and began prying off pieces of his armor, which had become hot almost beyond was bearable. Garon stared at the paddy with a mix of relief and grief. Lazlow discretely shuffled his feet until he had reached the door. Felicia threw herself at Garon's feet, begging for forgiveness.
"I'm so, so sorry, lord priest. I was bringing tea for milord Corrin, but I tripped right in front of the door, and the guard and I tumbled through, and knocked over a candle! I would never dream of causing such damage, I am so, so sorry."
Corrin had just torn off his cuirass and was beginning to raise his jacket to further relieve himself of the heat when he noticed what Felicia was doing, and quickly ran over, grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to tug her away. "That is enough, Felicia! This is my father, King Garon!"
If possible, Felicia's face paled even further, and Corrin swore he could feel a chill down his spine. The clumsy made through herself to her knees, again, clasping her hands together as if in prayer, and bowed her head, "By the dusk dragon, my king! I'm sorry, so sorry! Please find it in your majesty's greatness to forgive me!"
Corrin froze, as fair a ruler as his father was, in such a situation it was best that the offending party retreat from the scene, and come forward later, voluntarily, something that Felicia had clearly not picked up upon.
Garon raised his gaze to the ceiling and grumbled something unintelligible. Felicia was silenced by it, and Garon drew his gaze across the garden, eyes settling on the statue he had been praying to earlier- Anankos.
"You…YOU!" Garon came back around from his daze with a vengeance, wrapping his massive hands around Felicia's neck and squeezing the life from her. Felicia choked on her words, paling even further her hands unclasped, placing her hands on Garon's wrists, trying to jerk them away from her throat, even as she looked up at him, eyes pleading and desperate for mercy.
Corrin froze for a moment, unable to believe the scene before him. It was Felicia, the same Felicia that was raised with him in that damnable fortress all his life, the same Felicia that always mended all his cuts and bruises, and clumsily consoled him in his darkest hours. The same that was amongst his only confidants, and saved his life from assassins not once, but four times. His father could not be strangling Felicia.
Corrin looked at Lazlow, "What are you doing? Do not allow this to happen! Stop him somehow!"
Lazlow's eyes were wide like saucers, a dark look over his face so haunted Corrin would have thought it was his neck being wringed, a hundred times in an instant. "I…" The retainer started "I…I c-" The boy turned and dashed out the door.
"Fickfehler!" Corrin swore, and started after the dimwit, but remembered why he wanted his help in the first place. Corrin ran back to his father and placed a shaky hand on his arm. "Father, please reconsider. She is my own retainer, and by custom her discipline is left to my hands. For both of our honors, please do not do anything either of us may regret."
Garon did not respond, and Felicia grew blue in the face, eyes no longer pleading at Garon, but Corrin; a much weaker gaze, tinged with something regretful, and even a bit wistful. "Father, please." He tried again, his voice tremoring as much as his hands.
Garon finally removed his eyes from the poor maid, glancing at his son, then at the statue again. Garon fixed his eyes back onto Felicia and muttered something again, before letting go of her neck and stepping away, allowing the made to fall to the ground in a trembling heap.
Corrin quickly fell to the ground beside her, rolling her onto her side to ease her exhausted and quivering breaths. His oldest companion looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and choking to say something, but Corrin shushed her, and turned back to his father. "Thank you, father, for your mercy on her."
Garon's face was completely neutral, as if he had heard Corrin say that Nohr's dark skies were marginally less dark and foreboding than was typical, and his father's voice matched "Discipline her as you deem fit, I've taken my toll from her already. I will call upon you again in the next few days, hopefully under better circumstances. See to her, now."
Corrin nodded, and threw her over his shoulder as gently as he was able- trying his best not to despair at her choked sputtering- and then quickly left the room.
Step, step, step, step.
Felicia shifted her weight on his shoulder, "Corrin, can-"
Corrin cut her off "Not now Felicia. Soon, but please, not now."
Felicia grumbled under her breath "Can you put me down please?"
"No."
Felicia lowered her head in resignation, grumbling under her breath.
Either through luck or through memory, Corrin was able to find the infirmary from before, thankfully empty, and then lowered Felicia to her feet. "Thanks…I think?" Felicia brushed some of the dirt off of her uniform, but was otherwise silent.
Corrin reached out and took her hands, gently examining the red welts that dotted her pale skin. Corrin searched about the tables in the room, returning with a vulnerary in hand. Corrin began to apply the medicine like a balm, ignoring her wince. "Did you get these from the fire?"
Felicia winced again, this time from embarrassment. "Uhhhh, no. That was the tea." Corrin sighed, not at all surprised, and set the vulenary aside. Corrin picked up the bandages next, and began to wrap the palms of her hands. Corrin examined his work, and then stepped away, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to comfort his throbbing head.
"Sooooo…what now?"
Corrin looked at his retainer, unamused, before giving a sigh and shacking his head. "I don't know…" he murmured "Do you know what you did?"
Felicia looked down, perhaps ashamed "Set fire to a garden, improperly addressed the king."
"That garden was the garden of Arete, Garon's late wife. Do you see the issue?"
Felicia said nothing.
"And now I've to discipline you, or father may take offense, and our three reputations will suffer a terrible blow…" More silence, Corrin sighed, "For both our sakes, I must dismiss you, but I will have you taken into Gunter's service. He cares for you as greatly as myself, you will be safe in his custody."
Felicia's head shot up, eyes again full of hurt, "C-Corrin, I know I messed up, but-"
"Don't look at me like that, please. I don't know how long it will be necessary, if I was confident that this would not happen again, perhaps in a few months…but this isn't the first time, Felicia, not just messing up, but accidently setting fires. Father has more important things to worry about, so if this was a onetime incident, he could soon forget. But if you were to slip up again, even to a less devastating degree, then you'd have a reputation."
"Then I won't mess up again!" Felicia exclaimed, adamant. "I'm getting better at this, much better, much faster than before! And I can't leave you to this place alone, Corrin. We're not in the Northern Fortress anymore… but…"
"But what else am I too do? Have you flogged? After this?" Corrin poked the bruises on her neck where his father grabbed her, and she flinched away from the contact "I cannot and will not let that happen, Felicia. I'm sorry, very sorry, I don't think less of you for this, you know that. But you need to be saved from yourself, at least for the time being. I don't want to send you away, dusk, I do not… but… this is happening, whether I either of us want it to or not, or something far worse might."
Corrin stood up and made to leave "Remain here, I will have Gunter sent for you…as I said, Gunter will take good care of you, and this isn't permanent."
Love it? Hate it? Good. Just review. As an aside, never repeat the word 'fickfehler', you're liable to get the snot kicked out of you.
In all seriousness, let me know what you think about these new characterizations. I haven't really seen anyone try to recreate characters so drastically...so I really have no idea how good of a job I did.
At any rate, I'm going to go listen to Fire emblem three houses music until I loose my hearing. Have a good one.
