"Leave him alone!"

Without thinking, six-year-old Lucina lunged forward. The red-haired boy in front of her widened his eyes, but she tackled him before he could get out of the way, pushing him to the ground. Pain shot up her arm as her arm scraped against a rock.

Out of the corner of her eye, a rat scurried away, startled by the sudden movement. It crawled over a few cobblestones, and it stopped a few feet away. It was safe, at least for now, and relief washed over Lucina.

Her relief was short-lived. The ground beneath her shifted, and Lucina yelped as the boy tossed her off him. His auburn eyes narrowed.

"Don't get in my way," he said, getting to his feet, his shadow blotting out the sun.

Lucina clenched her fists, grasping at the grass. "He didn't hurt you! Why do you want to hurt him?" she said.

"It stole Minerva's food, so Minerva gets to eat it. That's just how it works." The boy rolled his eyes like she was stupid for rejecting it.

Lucina shook her head. "No it doesn't! He can't hurt anybody."

The boy huffed in return. "Well it's not my fault it can't defend itself."

He stepped forward, eager to try again to get the mouse, but Lucina moved in front of him. He towered over her, a giant compared to her, yet her eyes were filled with nothing but determination.

"You're not going to touch him!"

"Get out of my way," the boy replied, and he shoved her away.

Lucina stumbled back. She wobbled a bit, but she managed to stay on her feet, and as she steadied herself, she looked back up at the boy.

"I said leave him alone!"

With a yell, she ran at him. Wind rushed beside her head as Lucina ducked under the boy's arm. Not expecting it, the boy stumbled right into her waiting fist.

The boy grunted. He stepped back, eyes wide. Lucina didn't let up. In a second she was back in his face.

She lashed out, scratching and kicking and doing as much damage as a five-year-old girl could do. She wasn't going to let him get past her, no matter what.

With a final punch, she sent the boy stumbling away. He tripped on a rock and hit the floor with a thud. Lucina huffed.

Then, in a blur of movement, the boy flung sand in her eyes.

A shriek tore itself from Lucina's lips. Her eyes felt like they had been dipped in a vat of boiling oil. She tried to wipe it away. The dust fell away from her eyes, just in time for her to see a fist rushing toward her.

Pain exploded from her jaw as his hand slammed into her jaw. For a moment, she was flying. Then something scraped against her shoulder, and she slid over the cobblestones before coming to a stop as she crashed into a wall.

The world spun, cloaked in a fuzzy veil. A shape emerged from the fog, and as everything came into focus, the boy stood towering over her. Drops of blood speckled his hand, and it shamed her to say that it was hers.

Something wet prickled the corner of her eyes. They might have been tears. But they couldn't have been; she didn't cry. She wasn't a crybaby, not like Inigo.

She tried to wipe them away before anyone saw them. Her sleeve came away with a crimson streak down the side. She put her hands under her, and she tried to push herself up. Her arms trembled with the effort. She grunted, and she pushed harder.

A heavy weight crushed her chest before she could get more than a few inches off the ground. A gasp escaped her, as much as she tried to keep her stupid lips shut. She blinked, and suddenly, everything looked so wobbly and wavy, like looking through a glass of water.

The boy looked down at her with narrowed eyes. For a second, the weight on her chest vanished. She thought he'd back away, before it returned, only much, much more painful.

It hurt. It hurt so much, but she couldn't cry. She wasn't a crybaby. She wouldn't cry, no matter how much it hurt.

Then her father's voice rang out, clear, commanding, strong.

"Stop!"

The weight lifted off her, and in a blue blur, her father stood before her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he said, his voice an angry hiss.

The boy, Gerome, muttered something. Lucina strained to hear it, but from what she could see, her father hadn't heard it either.

"What was that?"

"She started it."

"I don't care who started it," her father said, crossing his arms. "Violence is never the best answer, even to violence. Do you understand?"

Again, Gerome mumbled a reply.

Her father's tone took on an edge. "I said, do you understand?"

Gerome growled. "My mother tells me that, all the time."

"Then it's not good if you listen to her. Do I need to call her here as well?"

Gerome stiffened. He shook his head, and her father sighed.

"Then apologize to Lucina," he said, and he motioned toward her.

Gerome glared at her. A moment passed, and Lucina didn't think he would say anything. He made a noise that might have been an apology, and before Lucina could catch what he said, he ran off, disappearing back inside.

The moment Gerome was out of sight, her father's shoulders slumped. All the angry energy he had spilled out in one, long breath, and when he turned around and knelt down to take her in his arms, his gaze was soft, like the candlelight next to her bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Lucina sniffled. "I'm fine," she said, wiping her eyes again. "I'm fine, now that I have you."


Lucina had only ever seen her father as one thing: a hero. Whenever she had been in trouble, he had stepped in to protect her. It was because of him that she always stepped in to help people who couldn't help themselves. And right now?

It seemed she needed to do just that.

A shout rang out. "Hey! Hands off that!"

In an instant, Lucina was out of the tarp. It only took her seconds to take in everything around her: the bandits, wrapped in drab brown and green, hauling wares from the wagon, the sword pointed at the merchant, her five identical children huddled behind her.

"Stop!" she said, drawing her blade in a rasp of steel.

All eyes turned to her. Faintly, she heard the merchant murmur, "How'd she get in there?"

In the future, there had been so few people left, and they couldn't afford to have conflict with each other. Bandits had become a thing of legend, the low-level grunts heroes such as her father had fought off at the beginning of their tales. She supposed that made this the beginning of her own story.

"I will not stand for this!" she said, and she leveled the tip of her sword at the white-haired brigand standing over the family of merchants. The leader, she assumed.

The bandit looked confused, if only for a moment. The second it passed, his face twisted into a scowl.

"Of course. I should've expected hired help," the bandit grumbled.

Lucina scoffed. She would have felt insulted, but it was an obvious assumption, however incorrect it may be.

"I am no sellsword!" she said, swiping her sword down.

"Then you have no business here," the bandit said.

Lucina's eyes narrowed. "I would disagree. Although I have no ties to them, I cannot stand idle while you lot rob these poor, helpless merchants."

The bandit's head tilted, and his white hair fell over his face. "Rob the–" He shook his head and frowned. "This woman is hardly a poor–"

Lucina didn't hear whatever he had been about to say. With a cry, she leaped off the edge of the cart, and she lunged for the bandit leader.

She had cut down droves of Risen to get to the past. Although there were the few Risen who were deadly warriors, for the most part, they were unskilled fighters, relying on numbers to wear down the opponent. Lucina thought this would be the same.

How skilled could a bandit be, after all?

The two blades met in a shower of sparks. Lucina jumped away. The bandit slashed across at her in a clumsy, two-handed stroke, but she was already out of reach.

She landed in a crouch a few feet away. The bandit swung again, cutting a deep gash in the ground. Like a bird, she danced out of reach yet again. Then, as the bandit drew his sword back, she charged forward.

A cloud of dust swept up as a breeze trailed after her. She raised her steel sword, the blade glinting in the harsh sunlight below, before she brought it back down in a streak of silver.

Her attack slid down the bandit's blade. This time, the bandit hurled her away. Lucina barely had time to recover when he came charging in.

The bandit slashed down at her. Lucina raised her sword to block it.

A clang echoed in the clearing, and Lucina's sword clattered to the ground. Lucina stumbled back, surprised, but the bandit chased after her.

The bandit's sword thrust forward. Lucina stepped to the side, and the sword flew past her. As the bandit drew his sword away, a trail of blood followed.

Lucina's eyes widened. Her hand flew to the shallow cut on her stomach. She stepped away in an attempt to put more space between them. The bandit gave her no such chance, and his blade came crashing down on her again.

Lucina jumped back, and her coat ruffled in the wind. The sword slammed down on the dirt in front of her. Instead of pulling it back, the bandit dug his weapon deeper into the ground, using it as a vault to close the gap.

A gasp escaped her as the bandit drove his knee into her stomach. She lurched forward, her lungs completely empty, only for the bandit to drag the pommel of his sword into her face.

CRACK!

Lucina cried out, and her vision exploded into stars. As she stumbled away, trying to keep herself from tripping over her own legs, her heel hit the wheel of one of the wagons behind her.

She fell back with a startled yelp. Pain lanced up her spine, and as she tried to bring her vision back into focus, she felt something wet run down her face.

Carefully, she put a hand to her face. From what she could feel, her nose was bent at an odd angle. When she pulled her hand away, she saw her own blood pooled between her fingers, a sight that sent a cold feeling through her head.

Something tickled her neck. She glanced down, and when she found the tip of a sword pressed up against her chin, a pit opened in her stomach.

She was outmatched and alone. She had no friends to pull her out this time, and as she saw the bandit raise his sword to finish her off, the one thought that resounded in her head was: Sorry, father. I've let you down.

...

No. Not yet.

Despair turned to rage, and she grasped at the dust beneath her.

She hadn't clawed her way back from the future to be killed by some bandit in the middle of nowhere. She'd come back here to save her father, and by the gods she was going to do it, no matter who got in her way.

"Sorry for this," she muttered under her breath.

"Sorry?" The bandit frowned. "What fo–"

Before he had the chance to finish, Lucina grabbed a handful of dust and hurled it at his face.

The bandit cursed, and his hands flew to his face, a ring on his left hand. He waved his sword in front of him, like a child warding off monsters in the dark. Lucina dove under his wild swings, and in one swift motion, she grabbed her sword and leaped to her feet.

As the bandit opened his eyes, Lucina lunged at him. She extended her sword in an attempt to run him through.

The bandit just reached out and grabbed her arm. He dragged her through and smashed his elbow into her face.

This time, it was Lucina's turn to back away. She kept her sword between the two of them, and as she wiped another streak of blood from her face, she scowled. Her eyes fell on the bandit leader, but, to her dread, another bandit had stepped up beside him. She tensed, expecting a fight.

Instead, the bandit leaned into the bandit leader's side, and he whispered something. The bandit leader's face pulled into a scowl, but after the bandit spoke, he nodded. He twirled his sword, put it away, and shot Lucina a glare.

"Had I more time, I'd finish you off," he said, turning away, "but I have other matters to attend to."

With a wave over his shoulder, the bandit disappeared into the trees, the other bandits following close behind. She listened to the sound of his footsteps fade into the distance, and the moment she could no longer hear the sound of leaves rustling in the undergrowth, she let out a sigh of relief.

And promptly crumbled to her knees.

As the adrenaline drained from her body, her wounds started to throb, and Lucina realized how hurt she was.

What... what happened? she thought, staring blankly at the ground.

Lucina was no stranger to losing. In her timeline, fighting the Risen was a constant uphill battle. Yet this felt different.

I lost to a lowly bandit. If father saw me now, he'd be ashamed.

She was ashamed too. She had lost what should have been an easy battle, and she'd resorted to a dirty tactic to survive. If just surviving the past was this hard, how was she to change it?

A cough snapped her out of her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder to find the merchant looking down at her.

"Hey, champ," the Anna said, raising an eyebrow. "That was quite a beating you took. Can you walk away?"

Lucina grunted. "There's no need to worry. I've taken worse," she said. She planted her sword into the ground, and, using her steel sword to support her weight, she pulled herself to her feet. She only got halfway up before her arm gave out, and the fell back to the dirt.

Huffing in annoyance, Lucina eyed the merchant from the side. "Actually, do you think you could give me something to patch myself up? A vulnerary, a heal staff, something of the like?"

The Anna touched a finger to her chin and hummed. "Do you have sixty gold on hand?" she asked after a moment of thought.

"Sixty? A vulnerary only costs thir–" Lucina cut herself off with a pained hiss. She should have known better than to try to negotiate prices with an Anna. "No. I don't."

"Well, I'm afraid my hands are tied," the Anna said, giving her a sheepish grin. "If I give you a freebie–"

"All your customers will expect things for free, I know. Don't patronize me."

"I wish I could help, but business comes first."

"Yes. You don't need to tell me twice. Just..." Lucina waved her away with a disgusted groan. "Leave. Before those bandits get second thoughts."

She turned away, but not before catching a, "Sheesh. What's her problem?" from the merchant.

She heard the merchant family board the wagons. She heard the sound of wheels clicking over the dirt road. Then, her surroundings faded back into silence, leaving her alone in the middle of a dusty clearing, surrounded by trees.

With no one around, Lucina tried to get to her feet again. This time, she managed to stand. As she pulled her sword from the ground and slid it back into its sheath, her shoulders dropped.

So much for the start of her story.

Taking a glance down the road, Lucina thought, The first thing I should do is find a place to stay. If I want to save the world, I should catch up with the world around me. That way, I won't stand out.

She took a step down the road, and a sharp pain spiked up her leg. As she winced, she added, And heal up. I wouldn't want to bleed out long before the Plegia-Ylisse war hits.

Before she could take another step, something pressed against the back of her leg.

Lucina jumped in surprise. Her sword was out in an instant, and she pointed it down, ready to skewer the little red-haired girl standing at her feet.

Wait, what?

Lucina stumbled back, even more surprised. The girl, just as startled, her shriek muffled by the teddy bear she held to her chest.

They stared at each other for a moment.

Lucina was the first to speak.

"And now I have to deal with you, too," she said, pulling a hand over her hair. "I'm hardly surprised your mother left you behind. You all look identical."

The merchant girl gave her an angry pout. "My mother didn't lose me. I left."

Lucina nodded. "Of course. Now, where do you think your mother headed off to, the north, or the–" Then she realized what the merchant girl had said, and she whirled on her, face paling. "Wait. You left?"

"Yeah."

"But why?"

"I want to go with you."

Lucina palmed her face. "I don't need your help."

"Maybe not," the merchant girl murmured, dragging her tiny sandal through the dirt, "but you saved us. I'm not going to let you leave alone. My mother didn't say thank you, so I'm doing it for her."

"A vulnerary would have sufficed."

"Yeah. But you're my first customer. That deserves something special."

"So you want to join me?"

"Yeah." At Lucina's frown, she added, "I took sleeping stuff with me. You don't have to worry about me." She motioned over her shoulder, and Lucina saw a large backpack behind the merchant girl.

Glancing back at the merchant girl, she said, "Your mother will worry. All mothers do."

"Not my mother," the merchant girl said, rolling her eyes. "Like you said, we all look the same. When she loses a daughter, she won't notice. Now come on! The people won't save themselves! They'll be throwing their purses at us when they see us coming!"

The merchant girl burst off down the road. She ran a few feet before she noticed that Lucina wasn't with her. When she looked back and found Lucina in the exact same spot she had been before, she frowned.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, and she started tapping her foot against the road.

Lucina just motioned to the cuts running down her body. "I can't run."

"Oh. That."

The merchant girl lowered her backpack to the ground. She stuck her hand in it, digging around for a little bit, before she pulled out a vulnerary canteen and offered it to Lucina.

"You can pay for it later," she said.

Lucina just stared down at the canteen like it was something she had never seen before. Eyeing the merchant girl cautiously, she took it and unscrewed the cap.

What a strange day this has turned out to be, she thought as she rubbed the contents over her wounds.


Gaius really didn't see what the problem was. He'd been caught. So what? The others got caught all the time, and they never got told off.

Apparently, their leader thought otherwise.

"What were you thinking?" the white-haired man hissed. "I thought I told you Themis Square is off-limits."

Gaius's lollipop came out of his mouth with a pop. "I don't see what's the problem, Geralt. Themis Square is where all the rich folk frolic around. If you can snag a purse from there, we won't have to go out for a month."

"It's also swarming with guards. I've not had a single man escape arrest in there."

"Aside from me."

"Yes. That," the bandit leader, Geralt hissed through gritted teeth. "But taking on the guards and the Exalted family are two different things."

Gaius huffed. "Could you blame me for thinking I could beat him? How am I supposed to tell one rich snob apart from the other? He just looked like another spoiled brat to me."

"A spoiled brat with training from the best knights in Ylisse. The Exalted family is hardly conspicuous, with those tattoos plastered over their foreheads."

Gaius opened his mouth. When he couldn't think of anything, he popped his lollipop back into his mouth.

"You can't rely on me to always break you out, you know," Geralt said, putting his hands on his hips. "A great thief has to be able to stand on his own."

"I'm a great thief!" Gaius mumbled. "I could break myself out if I wanted to, so I'm not worried. You know what you should be worried about? Why treat only me like this. Why don't you smack the others around like this?"

"Because the others don't have a sister who would murder me if she ever found out about your little misadventures."

Gaius stiffened, and his green eyes stuck to the floor. "You... you won't tell her about this, won't you?"

"Of course not," Geralt said, softening his tone. "Don't get me wrong, she's great, but I think you can agree that she's a little too protective of you. I never learned all I did, cooped up in the cave. A boy's gotta go out into the world, learn how to find his way in the world. Besides, I value your life as much as you do."

"Thank you."

"Hey. Chin up. What's a mentor for?"

Before Gaius could react, Geralt plunged a hand into his hair and ruffled it around. Gaius let out an angry squeak. He reached up to grab his hand, but Geralt pulled away.

Gaius stepped away and growled. Geralt laughed.

"Hey, what's this?" Gaius said, holding a ring up.

Geralt's laughter died in an instant. He looked down at his left hand, and, finding it empty, his face twisted into a scowl.

"Why you little–"

This time, it was Gaius's turn to laugh as Geralt lunged for him.


Don't hurt me I love Gerome I swear.

Also, look! It's Jeralt from Three Houses, but with a "G" instead of a "J". How quaint. I promise, I'm not going to start shucking out OCs like my friend shucks out reddit memes; if an OC's there, it's because they have a purpose. If OCs are not your thing, I'll try to keep the importance of OCs down to a minimum, or try to put in cannon characters instead.

It appears my brief disappearance has been noticed by someone. I was suffering a bad case of writer's block, so I didn't write or publish anything that week. Sorry about that, but now I have returned to give you this extra-long chapter (at least, to my low-ass standards).

I can't say that it'll be a permanent return, though; school's been breathing down my neck, so I can't promise that I'll be back to pumping out these weekly updates as regularly as the windmill from Teletubbies pumps out drugs. What I can say is that I'll certainly try my hardest to get these out, and that when I do update, it will be on a Monday!

Anyway, I'll stop putting the update dates down at the bottom, since there's no guarantee when I'll be able to write out another chapter. I really like this story, and I'd like to see it to the end. I'm not going to abandon this any time soon, I just need a bit of wiggle-room for my schedule.

With that, I'll see you all some Monday in the foreseeable future!