I gaze back at the grey-haired man standing in front of me behind the bars. He waves his hand to the guard, who leaves shortly after. We stare at each other for a few minutes, what is his point?

He speaks with the same language as the Shepherds. Harsh consonants remind me of German, although the silent endings and overall pitch remind me of a french person speaking it.

I notice he didn't bring the orange head this time.

He puts his hands on his chin and then pinches the brow of his nose, sighing before muttering to himself in French:

"I had forgotten that the prisoner only speaks Plegian."

Almost as if by reaction, I tell him, in his own language,"I speak French.''

The Archer removes his fingers from his brow and stares back at me with furrowed eyebrows. "Could you repeat what you said?"

I look away from him and stare at the walls. Oh great, already screwing this up.

"Uh… I don't speak French"

"French? What is french, you were speaking Rosannian. Are you from Valm?"

I sigh and mentally facepalm. How can I kindly explain that I'm not from here?

"No. But do you know places like Paris or Toulouse? Or even literary works like La Chanson de Roland or Fleurs du mal?"

"No, I have never heard of such works or such cities. But how can you speak Rosennean, if you aren't from Valm?"

"First, I'm not from Valm, nor from Ylisse for that matter. But I learned to speak your language under different name.

He shrugs his shoulder but still stares down at me.

"So answer some question truthfully," the greyhead says, making me sigh.

I lift myself up from the ground. "Then… ask."

He nods. "Where are you from?"

I blink at the question. Where the hell did that come from? Why does my past matter all of a sudden?

"I'm not from Ylisse or Valm. I'm not from this world."

He frowns at me. I sigh once again and wave my head around and add. "What else do you want me to say?"

The man relaxes before saying, "What are those books you care about? What are they talking about?"

I open my mouth, confused. What is he trying to get from me?

"They are literature books. Nothing more, nothing else. Just books from home, the only thing left from it now that there simply no way back."

He nods at that answer, softening his stare.

I use that chance to ask him, "You aren't from here, are you?"

He nods at me, looking unfazed.

I facepalm, causing him to wince. "Why did you just do that!?"

"I asked you a dumb question and as such I have annoyed you," I replied matter-of-factly

"Please don't do that. Regardless of your prisoner status, such actions are unnecessary."

sigh and nod to him. "So what do you want from me?" I ask in an annoyed tone. If I have to suffer, then at least, leave me alone. But then again I'm a prisoner.

"Tell me what led to you being under Grima's direct orders? Before you ask, I'm very well aware that you don't speak with her, but there must be something in you that made Grima see you as an asset valuable enough to keep under her direct command."

What are my options at this point? I'm probably going to be killed when the blue monster sees me again, but I can't afford to put Reflet in danger, otherwise, I would betray her and she doesn't deserve that.

I think for a few seconds before replying "I just popped out of nothing. I was simply walking my way home, some books in my backpack and it was rather hot. I was just walking alongside the beach and then I fell down into a bunch of dunes, out of nowhere. It was bizarre, to just walk in the middle of a desert out of nowhere. That was it. Nothing more and nothing less. I shrug my shoulders and continue monotone.

" As such, I survived my way through the desert alongside a caravan until I was brought to a family and the rest is history. Now, I have told you enough about myself, but well, I don't think Rosanneans walk around these corners. So please then, I'm only a prisoner, but you don't seem like that. Why are you here? At least, I have the excuse of appearing out of nowhere."

He puts his hands underneath his chin, doubt showing on his face. I shrug and walk away from him. I sit next to the wall and lower my head.

"I was once the duke of Roseanne, the most powerful amongst equals, but my rule would soon come to an end. Walhart the Conqueror threatened to raze my lands unless I surrendered. I could not allow my people to suffer, but at the same time I wanted to see the Conqueror defeated. Alas, such a feat was impossible. Walhart was unstoppable and only bloodshed would ensue if I stayed in Rosanne."

I nod to the archer's words. "I see." At least he had a choice over the matter. It's rather pointless to compare suffering.

"So stuck in a difficult situation. Huh, it seems we aren't so different after all."

The greyhead nods at my comment, as if he thought the same thing. Both strangers.

"But I disagree, there is a real difference between both of us. My side doesn't commit atrocities against innocents."

I shrug. "What else can I say? I'm not going to deny it, your side is cleaner. But such is the way to survival, isn't it? Denying our own morals in the name of survival. I have blood on my hands that I wish I didn't, but what is my suffering compared to others? Nothing, just a tiny drop in a massive ocean, inconsequential as ever."

The archer's eyes widen at my words, and he puts his hand against his chin. "Such talks about morality would be fascinating, but this doesn't come to the heart of the matter here. One does not simply access the higher echelons of society by mere association to a noble family, especially not if they are a foreigner. How were you able to join Grima's inner circle?"

I gulp at the question. The ramifications of either possible response come to my mind. Either I tell the truth and have my neck snapped by Plegia, or lie and get executed by Ylisse.

"I survived. I survived the violence of the palace, seeing people try to kill me, watching insanity unfold before my very eyes. This world is an alien place. There is no point in this mess, but I survived in my own decay. Allied with the family's heir, I stayed put in my little room and that was it for months or years. I only existed. But one day, I happened to do some rather stupid stuff and then I met a girl. She was very curious and scary, but I became her friend somehow. For some reason, she knew more about Grima than anyone else, and that somehow landed me into Grima's 'inner circle' without my consent."

Virion gazes at me, looking for any hidden subtext. I shrug at his actions, feigning my own ignorance on the matter.

"Why are you omitting details?" the grey-haired man asks, sighing. I look at him and facepalm.

"Do you want more? Well, I could tell you about the dark magic messing with my brain, or something like that, but you don't want that. You just want to know about Grima. Well, I'm sorry, but I don't have to add to the topic. You already know she is planning to destroy the world, what else do you expect me to say?"

He stares at me confused. "I apologize to you, good sir, but why? Why do you remain loyal to them? You are a foreigner, your allegiance does not lie with Plegia and you know only the end of the world lies at the end of its path. So, why resist us? Why do you not share the information needed to end this war with us?"

I get up from the wall and walk to him, only the bars separating the two of us and my head lift to see into his eye, despite how painful it is. "I have a friend there and barely anything else left. I have no way home for me. So I want to preserve the few good things left in this hell. I don't want to mess this up, I can't mess this up. You know, at least you can go home. I don't, there is no Rosanne left for me. There is no more Brazil to walk to, so what is left is her. That is the only thing left to preserve in this mess of violence."

The man glares at me. "I can not blame you for that. I miss Rosanne every day. My shame at my cowardice and failure to stop the Conqueror is immense. But still, there are some lines I would not dare to cross. I am afraid you stepped past them too long ago."

He walks away and I let out a sigh, What a pointless conversation.

…how long have I been in here?

The cold stone has become something in between a home and a prison. It's still a prison with bars and a torch to illuminate, but it has turned into something more… familiar, I suppose. Stay in the same spot for a long time, and before long the most unstoppable of forces always comes. Familiarity. This has become not just a place, but something else.

Still, I can't say that I have become some Meursault and turned a place that I lived for the past days into the most familiar of homes, that would be lunacy! But then again, what proof is there that I'm not a lunatic?

After all, I'm almost dead. The chances of getting out of here are fewer than finding the sun in the night sky. Reflet will destroy the world, that is a fact with me stuck in here, unable to do anything or contact anyone.

Does Reflet miss me at all? Nah, it's not possible. She has a duty to attend to, something more important than a decaying corpse pretending to be a human being. No doubt she's already forgotten me..

As for Tharja, the only thing I know is that my fist clenches the moment her images come to my mind. Well, I don't need to deal with her anymore.

I sigh, walking around the place.

Tharja, why won't you leave my head? You have betrayed me, yet you seem to freeload in my mind like nothing happened. At this point, being angry at you is a waste of energy. I hope my demise shall at least bring you some pleasure.

As for those two bastards, Validar and Aversa, they are no doubt having the happiest moments of their lives. Their plan is flowing smoothly now that the pest has been removed. What else is there to say? Should I wish them death? Already done this a thousand times before, what is the point now?

As for Henry, he is probably murdering people or getting mad because he has to command troops. Or just feeding his crows, if he still has them. Forgotten me already, no doubt, but that is for the best. The less I see him, the better. But if someone finds my corpse, please do anything but give it to him.

Oh yeah, the rambling about people is over. What else to do?

I walk in circles in my cell as I wait for something to happen. After all, the more time passes, the bigger the chance something is going to come right?

But the next second comes, and after that, the next minutes come and so on and so forth. But nothing happens. Reflet is killing some poor sob or something, Tharja is doing some weird experiment or whatever. I can't even gaze at the wall and count the lines between bricks because, well… It's way too many to count and it's just as boring as counting those from a doctor's office.

I sigh and lower myself to the ground and rest in a fetal position. This place is gelid, making me tremble and my teeth rattle. I want a blanket or something to cover myself with, anything to make it less cold.

I miss Reflet and Tharja.

What am I even saying, aren't those two the people that put me in this situation in the first place? I laugh for a bit, of course, if it wasn't for them I wouldn't be in this mess. As they say back home, laugh to not cry.

Still, it feels lonely here. I miss those conversations I had with Reflet. I wish I could speak with her. Tears come out of my eyes, ny laughter comes out frayed, before spiraling down. Hell, why am I crying for such a small thing? It's just conversation and nothing else. Why can't I help but cry when I see Reflet talking to me? Even Tharja, Why? Why do I care that much? I shouldn't at all. Please, images, leave me alone.

Amidst my crying and my trembling body, I notice ants walking in parallel to my position. A few of them come towards me, almost as if by curiosity. What are they doing?

A trail comes in my direction, walking towards my face until they stop a few centimeters away from my eyes. I blink and they disappear, as if they never existed in the first place. That event leaves me without tears, as if I had never cried. I try to get up, but my arms don't answer me, nor do my legs. Besides, is this place even real? Isn't this just mere fiction? Well, I'm not that real if you think about it. I'm just not real, it's only an illusion, right?

The seconds pass by and my tears dry. What was the point of this commotion? It isn't like I'm going to be released from captivity and it isn't like the boredom was resolved in any way. So why do such emotions control me? At this point, Gabriel, it seems it is better to think about nothing to be honest.

Let's wait for the one constant. Speaking of which…

One guard comes with a bowl of something. He doesn't talk much, he just opens the door, puts the bowl on the ground and closes the door again, leaving me in isolation once more.

I crawl towards the nourishment. Another round of soup is still better than nothing. I put it in my mouth, the horrendous bitter liquid-paste trickling down into my throat. I gag along the way, the excruciating taste making me spit some of it, although I guggle the majority inside my stomach. The day is already done.

The torches sizzle gently in front of me. A time-keeping device which never registers time, just the state between existence and void. I sigh, the grey-haired man has never come again, leaving me to the whims of that guard who gives me soup.

I walk circles to kill some of the tedium. This is my new routine: wake up with a strained back, sit waiting for the time that soup will come, and ramble until sleep comes. How much longer will it be before the subjects dry out and I'm left not thinking? What a curse.

But such are the woes of captivity in this solitary place. Left alone here without so much as a book to keep the boredom at bay. How did Mersault even survive that experience? But I can say one thing for sure: I don't want to see that thing ever again in my lifetime, so perhaps I should be thankful that none of the Shepards has ever come here since. Still, the repetition has been boring.

If only I had my books once again. Please tell me the archer didn't mess up my backpack, otherwise what am I supposed to do, have my identity slowly eroded over time until I can speak only one of the languages of this continent? I can't lose those precious books, I can't! Even if I have to punch a Shepherd in the face, I will not lose my books or my cell phone for that matter.

But what can I do while stuck in this mind-numbing place, beyond ramble ad nauseam once again? Complaining about matters that only exist in my head…if I had been a little bit more careful, perhaps now I could be convincing Reflet to stop her plans, rather than being in this state of lethargy and self-pity.

Droga!

The guard stands in front of me. If only I had the opportunity… well he has the key, but considers everything else. He has a weapon - a sword - and armor, while I only have tatters as my clothing. I can't simply subdue this guard and walk away without alerting any of the others.

Besides, even if I were to make it past the guards, I don't know the plant of this building or what there is besides a mind-numbing, boring dungeon. Where the hell am I even? In the capital of Halidom or in the middle of nowhere? I can't just waltz to the outside without knowing where the Plegian army is.

Hell!

I rest against the walls of the prison, sliding down until I'm sitting on the ground. What the hell am I supposed to be doing? I can't just wait, it simply isn't optimal.

Trickled-down seconds turn into trickled-down hours. While rambling, the guard comes to my dungeon and opens the door, crouching to pick up the eaten bowl of food.

Should I do it or not? My arms tremble in this situation, can I even overpower him? I sigh, I can't just stay in this state forever!

Um, dois, três.

I lunge at the guard when his hands reach the bowl. Our bodies clash, I fall down above him, his back against the ground. His sword clang against the rocks.

I look at his right hip, and lo and behold the sword is there. I try to pull up the metallic thing, but it's so heavy I can only slightly move the hilt. I grab it with my other hand too, and it slowly starts rising.

C'mon, be stronger Gabriel!

Sparing the soldier a glance, I see his torso rise and his fist fly at me.I have only the time to blink, before his knuckles hit my skull, a throbbing pain drilling at my cheek as if someone was puncturing it with needles. Then, the back of my head throbs against the cold ground, and once again the sound of a sword clangs against the ground.

I open my eyes. The man is readying his next attack, but the sword is still in my right hand. I grit my teeth as I lift the sword, but the guard punches my face, saliva pouring out of my mouth.

As he retracts his fist, I lift the sword and beat it against his chainmail. He's distracted for a moment, and I try to push him away, but to no avail.

He comes and punches my head once again, some blood coming out of my mouth. If only I could stab him!

Suddenly, the guard's hands reach for the sword and clutch around the blade. We grapple as he tries to pull the weapon away from me, my arm trembling under the pressure and my fingers burning against the pommel.

With the help of my other hand, I hold unto the pommel for dear life, pulling the blade like there is no tomorrow. Then the sword slips away from the guard, blood now staining the blade. I notice the guard moaning as he looks at the deep cuts in his palms.

I use the opportunity to aim the sword between the rings of the chainmail. The guard notices it and tries to dodge, but it's too late. The blade pierces in-betweens the rings of his chest, and the guard screams in pain. In one last ditch effort, the guard tries to push it out, but I force my thrust further in, the last tug of the war.

Unfortunately, the pressure is too much and my hands slip off, allowing him to push the sword out. However, he pants heavily, his face pales, and when he tries to ready his fists again, he can only flail his arms. As he keeps his eyes on me, he lets out gasps.

Recognizing my chance, I ready the sword again, and this time aim my thrusts beneath his helmet.

The gasps stop as blood drips from the wound. His arms stop struggling and he falls on top of me, pinning me down on the ground with his height and armor.

I let go of the blade and try to push him off of me with both hands. He doesn't budge, blocking me under a stuffy flesh prison. I look to the left. Perhaps…

I slip to the left, all while pushing the weight to the right. Little by little, I'm able to free myself from the flesh prison.I get up, panting, a liquid sliding on my forehead. I touch it, noticing the salt texture prickling my hand. The liquid is red, and the blood and sweat have mixed together. Please tell me, it is the other guy's blood.

I limp towards the open door staggering like there is an anvil on my shoulder. My legs tremble, ready to collapse. After I cross the door, my legs crumble and I hit the wall with my shoulder. The impact hurts so much that all I can do is sit on the ground and allow myself a few moments to breathe as I recover from the struggle.

I look at both ends of the corridor and find both of them to be empty. There's only me, the one guard and the torch.

Why aren't there more guards?

I get up once my panting subsides and my legs stop screaming, realizing that I need to leave.

I notice stairs at one end of the corridor, and so walk in that direction. As I do so, I notice all the cells are as empty as the corridor. Why did they lock me up somewhere so isolated? Why am I the only one here?

Focus, it's either rambling or freedom right now, Gabriel.

Remind yourself, to stop rambling so fucking much, bastard. I need to find where my backpack is.

When I reach the top of the stairs, an uncontrollable frozen shiver takes a hold of my spine. I gaze backwards but not a soul appears to gaze at me from afar. With a gulp, I open the door while, what seems to be like glares, hovers around my head like a massive weight.

On the other side of the door, there is a barely illuminated corridor. The torches spread far and thin and left many shadows on its part. Um, dois, três. Um dois, três. My heart beats like a banging drum, screaming down at the bloody hellish corridor on sight.

I slap myself in the face. Gabriel, stop thinking about your fucking fears! I left forearm by the right palm to control the trembling side! Get your shit together for once, you fucking kid!

I walk on the dreadful on the stone-laden path of hell. The sound of sizzling torches mixes with the crack of my own steps against the material. As such, I cringe as I keep on the pace and my forearm burns because of the pressure of the nail against the bloodied bandage.

I hit my face against another wooden door. I rub my sore head and open it. RevealingTwo guards passing by the place, one on the opposite side of the other, taking their rounds. Kindly enough, right next to the door, there is a thick shadow and I creep towards it, entering inside of it. One of them pass by right in front of me.

At the ceiling, there is a giant square hole showing off the nightly sky, the moon shining at it. The only part that has it is the areas where the guards pass by because where it should be ground, there is a dark black pitch immediately underneath the giant square hole. The only thing stopping someone from falling over it are the pillars that support the ceiling and even then, there is a gap wide enough that would allow someone to fall right through it.

My arms trembles as the second guard comes around the corner. Cold sweat invades my brown and my legs tense up to bolt away from the hellish position. I just need the guard to get the fuck away from my face!

Dirt invades my nostrils and I cough away it… Mas é claro, puta que pariu! The guard in front of me turns his head around and walks towards me, readying his lance. Droga. I grit my teeth and clench my hand as I gaze at the gaps between the pillars. OK, isso vai ser muito idiota!

I blaze away from my position as the guards tries to pierce me with his lance. A force sticks around my back as I dive towards the hole. The sound of cloth being torn out emerges as a switf air hits my face.

oh não…

The first thing I hear is the sound of water splashing around my limbs and my face, the viscous liquids surrounding me like a wildfire as the lack of air weighs on my lungs and the agonizing hits my head like a whole.

Fuck fuck Fuck! I flail my arm around as I'm dragged down by current. Calm down, calm down! I kick my body around as it refuses to listen to my command! Stop Flailing around!

As I raise my head from the water, another gush of water comes and hits me in the face. It puts me underwater, the sounds of bubbles popping down as the words darken around and I'm dragged down by it.

That is death then. How similar it is to live.

My decaying body floats around this hidden river, floating aimlessly in this dark world. Such it goes then a surface hits me right in the face. Sand hitting up my nostril as my lungs sweet oxygen from the world around me.

I crawl away from the water like a slug. My members feel made out of jelly ready to fall apart the moment someone dares to touch it. I give a big breath before something crawls in my neck.

The liquid outpours from my mouth and my nostrils and I cough at it once it all falls down to the floor. My hair strands block my view and the world feels colder than Antarctica. I sigh, trying to raise myself from my position.

Like a crumbling rotten wood, my body creaks once I get up away from the floor and I'm left limping towards what is in front of me. A grey corridor of which only one torch shines on it's entrance and everything after is mere darkness and nothing else. The only sensible action left is to gulp.

May my sanity not deteriorate any further.

I enter the void.

I trudge along the path like a mole digging his way out in the soil. I grope the walls and walk alongside it towards a destination, hopefully away from the grasp of those guards.

A cold sensation takes a hold of my stomach, the sweat invading my brows once again. As if a figure could touch me anywhere as I stay in the darkness, swift shivers down my spine and myself gasping at the situation. Please let it end soon.

Once I blink, a stark female figure appears in front of me slowly approaching me. She opens her clutched hands and outraged smirks twist from her mouth. I stop at my tracks and walk backward from the strange figure, my neck straining at the sight of her.

Get out! Get out! Get out! But the figure doesn't stop along on her furious march towards my body, she extends her cursed fingers to my neck and clutch it around my neck! Stop! I punch the figure and it disappears from my sight.

I gasp from air, falling down to the floor. Dammit, so fucking dammit! You still follow me no matter what? Can I ever escape from your fucking grasp!?

I slap myself out of the daze. I need to run away from here, lest be overwhelmed by hallucinations. I grit my teeth, get myself up and run. Run anywhere where I can't be attacked by her yet again. Run where the light shines brightest and she can't strangle me again.

The path must end somewhere, anywhere! My body trembles as a cold sensation take hold on me, my arms flailing around me and my neck contorting itself as I scramble to get out from there. I'm dead! I'm so dead!

I hit something and I fall down onto the ground, my breathing stop and my body ceases to move. Move, bastard! do you want to be strangled yet again!? I move my arms and raise myself, my back screams at me and my legs sore as I get up once again and look backward, gulping.

Nothing is there.

I blink once again and squeeze my cheek. There is nothing.

I touch what had block me in my escape. It's made out of wood and as I lower my hands on it, a cold metal touches the palm of my head. So is it? This is the end of this corridor?

I open the door and immediately enter the area, slamming the door shut and falling down on my knees, my brows filth with sweat as it drips downs. The area is a small library with the booth touching the walls and there is no parapet.

I take a glance at the ceiling. Why is there a door in there? The wood thing stares back at me, before opening up to a dark void in there. As I get my sight from there and to the door in the other position of the room, walking towards it.

I slam it open and there is a stair leading up to somewhere, I open it and walk until I reach the end of it, revealing a room

At the furthest opposite to me there are two wooden gates that lead to somewhere. The center is a square serving as the hub. At my side, two big hallways of which the ceiling is curved. There are no walls but rather pillars supporting the structure, no space between them. Why would such a thing even be necessary on this structure?

Gulping at my prospect, I take a quiet step until I reach the hub of it. Above me, there is another fresco but there is only a blue-haired man gazing downwards at me. Shivers coming down my spine. I look away from it. Despite the central area, I can only hear my own steps. No sounds of people talking.

I slowly get away from it and towards one of the sides of the place, walking slowly until I slip in one of the tiles on the floor. DAMN IT! I rub my head as it hurts from the impact. I'm more than screwed up, I'm dead!

But no steps come. No one sounds anything. No one opens their doors. I wait a few seconds but the same status quo remains. I lift up from the ground and look around, but there is no one around to come toward me. I sigh and facepalm.

The left side is covered with a door all the way through the end. How long it will take before I can find something in it? Shrugging my shoulders, I go to the diligent task of putting my ears into the wood.

But alas, nothing comes from this side. Not even a single peep out in the first door, I put my hand on the door and then open it. Only books and weapons but no sight of anything of my own, just the belongings of other people. I get out to look somewhere else.

I repeat the same procedure, but no results come out from it. I go to one of the doors and open it. I look at the room, more spacious than the others. The bed is made out of fine clothes and organized into a neat bed. In front, stood a banner with another. It isn't a rune nor it is plegian abjad. Just a bunch of letters, a mishmash of symbols.

I look to the right and see a massive table, a silver dagger on top of it, a ruby embedded in its hilt.. A familiar sight for me, and even more so when I approach the table and find a bunch of worn-out papers sticking out of a suspiciously familiar journal, a book title "Vaia-me,Deus. precise criticar tudo" and a slick black object reflecting my face.

It's there, everything is there!

I come closer and hug the phone and the book. I have found them, they were here all along. Yes!

I look at the table's feet and there it is: my backpack. I put it on the table and open it, fussing around as I make sure no item is missing. Thankfully, both my old clothes and the other books are all still there. A win for once!

I put the my book, my journal and my phone all back into my backpack. Never thought I'd be so relieved to feel their weight on me, but here we are.

Unfortunately, the sound of someone marching suddenly comes from outside this room. Damn, they must have found the guy's body.

I hide in the corner behind the door, the sacrificial dagger in my hand and ready to kill anyone who may enter.

The door opens and I come down with a slash.

A clang announces a sword parrying the dagger, and I look at the person in front of me. White hair, red eyes, a cold stare in them, slightly taller than me.

It doesn't take long for me to realize it's Reflet.

Shock comes into her eyes and her mouth opens wide as our gazes meet. Her face then morphs into a smile as she approaches me. I wear ragged clothes and my face is no doubt just as ragged, but she approaches all the same.

"You are here, Gab!" She says, fidgeting in place. "You are alive!"

"How are you here?" I ask dumbfoundedly.

"Oh, I just killed all the vermin I came across," she whispers, a sinister giggle escaping her. "Though I think we should get back to camp now."

I nod to her. "I couldn't agree more."

The sounds of ouds silence the whisper of crickets in the night, chants impregnate every corner, the rhythm of tablas beats like a heartbeat as the camp comes to the most festive of standstills. I see people from all over the camp flocking in front of me as they gaze at the makeshift podium.
The crowd's prayers suffocate the air around as the monolithic whisper fights against the messianic's chant. In the fight of the devoted, who is more fanatic? The quiet whisper of a prayer or the explosive chant of the priesthood and the chorus? As for me, they all amount to the same thing, the waiting and return of their goddess: Grima.

Before reaching the podium, Reflet whispers from behind me, "Stay to the left for the speech. That way I will be able to speak to everyone when I'm done."

I nod to her as she walks to the podium. Validar and Aversa smirk when they see the Vessel coming in their direction. I shrug at their reactions. I don't have much to complain about. I got my stuff back and another chance to have Reflet stop her plans. Let them savor their victory for now.

The crowd stops praying, the music stops and silence returns when the Vessel appears in front of the podium. The Vessel stands, her regal figure carrying a sword in one of her hands. Reflet makes a satisfied smirk at the people's silence. She takes a quick glance at me before starting her speech.

"Arise, my followers. For we have won against those vermins, those who dared to destroy our army, who dared go against our holy duty! But they couldn't stop our fervor and righteous anger. They thought they could trump us! Take away from us everything that is precious in this end of the world!" She takes a look at me, a burning purple aura pouring out of her as she envelopes the area in her dizzying hatred. The screams of the Vessel at the Shepherds.

"To think those monsters would touch such precious people! What retribution is fairer than utter extermination? They will watch what pain actually means, what it is to stand against Grima! They shall learn as our prophecy commands!"

A smile comes out of the Vessel, her eyes burning with hatred and seeming to be shining with a purple tint. But then her aura dissipates.

"For now, we rejoice in our victory. This holy battle has brought back dear old companions. For now, fighting is unnecessary and as such we shall feast to our holy victory against those damned followers of Naga! But soon, this will end. We shall continue our holy domination!" Grima plants her sword in the podium, all while forming a purple flame in the palm of her hand.

"For those who think taking this fortress to be a setback, there is no need to worry."

I gulp at the fact as that smirk turns into a grin.

"In a matter of days, we shall arrive at the accursed city and exterminate them all from the face of the earth. Our holy task shall be done, and I shall fulfill the prophecy of a new age. One where I shall rule in the fairest of manners. You, chosen people, have already paid a price in blood, but soon the Ylissean shall pay theirs with their lives!"

As she speaks, the flames in her hands grow, enveloping all of her hand. That purple aura returns in a massive tidal wave, extinguishing the fire of all torches. Grima becomes the one figure amidst the darkness.

"We have waited a thousand years for my rebirth into this Vessel, but no more. My true body shall rise and end this cycle once and for all. The war is already over, and we are victorious. Agrima."

The world is left in silence as Grima extinguishes her flames and the torches light up again. The Vessel walks off of the stage, Validar and Aversa following her by her sides.

I gulp as the speech sinks into my mind. Sorry Ylisse, but I don't think there will be salvation for you, but I could be wrong. Trying to foresee anything is a foolish endeavor, but at the same time the one I participate in. An oxymoron, but waiting for the worst makes any disappointment feel less bitter.

"Lady Grima, I believe it's for the best that tonight we focus on-"

Reflet puts her hand in front of Validar's mouth as she smiles at me."Hey Gab, I guess it's time."

Validar and Aversa stare dumbfounded at me, while Reflet puts her arm around my neck and shoulder, stepping away from them. Aversa froths at the sight, while Validar just frowns.

I smirk at them. "Acho que dessa vez, o jogo virou, não é mesmo?" I tell them.

Validar approaches the Vessel. "Lady Grima, may you spare us a moment to talk about-"

"Silence," Reflet cuts him off. "You may have your moment when I'm done with Gabriel. You shall return to your duty."

He nods and goes back to Aversa, allowing us to trudge towards her tent.

"It has been a while, Gab," she says, smiling.

"Yes, it has been. Have things been going well for you?"

"Better. I have finally had retribution for the battle." She glares back to where Validar and Aversa stand. "Although that bastard will have to learn a lesson about guests."

I gulp.

"Don't worry, Gab. Let's relax for today."

We enter her tent and sit on the carpet. We stare at each other for a long time, justd staring.

I'm the one to break the silence. "It is a little bit awkward."

"Awkward?" she replies confused.

"We are staring at each other, doing nothing."

She pouts. "C'mon, Gab. Staring at people isn't strange."

I blink at her response. "Que?"

"I like to stare at you, it reminds me of my prized possessions."

I frown at it "Uh… ok, then?"

She frowns. "Did I say something weird?"

"I think so…"

"Well, I guess… you just need to get more accustomed to that, Gab."

"I'm pretty sure that I don't have to."

"Are you so sure Gab?"

"I'm pretty sure, Reflet." She huffs

"You and your weird ways, I shall learn them all one day I'm sure."

"Tem certeza mesmo. Você tem certeza, Reflet? Não é como se o Brasil tivesse ao lado de Plegia."

She looks at me dumbfoundedly. "You and your language. Just say it in Plegian. It's more precise."

"Não, Reflet. Eu não acho que é assim como línguas funcionam."

She pouts. "I will learn that language of yours."

"Boa sorte achar um professor aqui, não pensa que vai ser fácil assim não,vaso" I laugh.

"You made a joke, didn't you?"

"Of course not!"

"I sense your speech and notice they are lies."

"Are you so sure? Even when you don't know the language?"

She tries to open her mouth, only to go back to pouting.

"You will not always be able to outsmart everything, I can tell you that."

"Do your best then, prove me wrong!" I say, trying to emulate the tone of her speech. I see her laugh before she goes back to staring at me.

"I really have missed our conversations." She avoids my gaze all of a sudden. "May we be able to speak like this again when all is said and done."

"I think we will be able to way after the war. But maybe you need to stop for a moment"

Reflet goes to staring at me. "Stop?'

"Yes, stop. I know that in the end, you need to destroy Ylisse, but just think for a moment. What will this achieve orf you?'"

"The end of Ylisse and the first step toward accomplishing my goals."

"But why Ylisse? I get it, you hate them, but why do so many people have to die for the mistakes of a few, Reflet?"

"Gabriel, you don't understand. I have been doing this for a long time. I have been preparing for this for a long time. I want to see the end of it, no matter what."

"But is this ending something you really wish for?"

She pauses, seconds passing by.

"I'm… sure, that is what I want, Gab."

A part of me questions that moment of hesitation. Did I really just make her stutter?

"Gab, can you tell me one thing?"

"Yes?"

"What are your plans after the war is over?"

"A part of me wishes to never have the answer in the first place, and others wish the contrary. The truth, Reflet, is that I wish to go home, but it's impossible."

She looks away from me. "Why is that?"

"I…" I remove the tears from my eyes. "I… hate it and love it. It's a curse that drags me down but I wish it all the same Can. you understand that?" I gag on the question.

She turns back to me. "I do."

Our eyes meet. The foreigner and the Vessel. Are we part of the same coin or different being altogether?

She smiles at me. "Gabriel, I prefer that you go for now. You must have suffered in captivity. Rest, Gabriel."

I look away from her, head out of her tent and toward mine. My mind is still heavy. I hope that is enough to make Reflet reconsider, but that would be quite foolish of me.

I sigh. Is there even a tent for me? Is there a place for me in this hell?

I gaze around, I'm another stranger, a foreigner. I don't really have a place to sleep, now that I think about it. Probably that humble tent doesn't exist anymore.

I sigh, what am I supposed to do now? I walk randomly. I doubt I can go back to Reflet at this point.

As if in a drunken stupor, I stumble into someone else, almost falling. I look who it is. Long raven hair, pale skin despite the sunshine. Our eyes meet, hers widening a bit.

"Gabriel, are you fine?" she hesitantly whispers.

"Tharja…"

She turns her head away from me. Little by little, I hear sobbing while she speaks. "I'm so glad! I'm so glad!"

As I look at her, my heart falters. Despite the hateful voice, the whimpering, I hug her and she hugs me back. She stops sobbing. Just two strangers alone in the dark.

Well, finally this chapter has been published.

I would like to apologize for taking so long to publish this chapter, but life has been hellish for me in 2022(By far one of the worst years of my life, if not the worst one). As such I have been extremely exhausted to work on this fic(read overwork from uni, dealing with mental illness and trauma and general laziness), despite wanting to just edit what is left of this fic. Well, you didn't come to hear me complaining and here is the chapter. Hope it has been worth the wait, although expect the most awful grammar that exists.

This chapter has been problematic because of the second scene where Gabriel escapes from his cell. While I wrote the scene I was playing Thief: the dark project. But the first draft was bad and the second draft of it had been rejected by Cavik because of how boring it was. Hope this final iteration has been better, despite having to scrap a lot out of it.

Well, I'm not going on hiatus. Just the fic schedule is going to be all over the place. The next chapter is already edited soon it won't take that long.

Ps: yeah, Gabriel speaks french. There is a reason I put the title Flowers of Evil(Fleur du mal) on it's original french title and why Gabriel carries it around. Sorry if it sounds convoluted, but it was mentioned a few chapters back. Oui, je parle en peu de français , mas j'ai oublié la majorité de vocabulaire et grammaire. Donc, je crois que je suis pas une persona fluent on français. Pardonne mon usage de Français pour tout personne francophone.

Thanks for Cavik for beta reading this chapter. Without him, this fic would exist the way it is.

Thanks for reading it so far.

2010SI: Thanks for the very kind words, glad you think the interludes are the best. Well, Dandolo situation is not a good one. He was rather successful

in Plegia, but somehow that doesn't translate to Ylisse. Gabriel doesn't have minions, they are ants and Gabriel doesn't have exp, if we had to put in gaming terms, he would be close to a character in a classical fps like Half-life, Quake or Unreal. He doesn't really have upgrades. I don't think Gabriel is on his way to kill redheads though lol.

Crowbars357: yep! I see, thanks for telling me that.

Guest: Well, trying to work on that. Not much success on that front.

Here is a link if you want to enter the server I participate in: discord . gg / u89gs745fn