I wake up in a fetal position, the dust pricks my head and the uncovered parts of my body. The ray of sunshine burns my eyelids and I put my hands above myself, protecting my body. Only five more minutes and I'm done.

The warmness of the heat dulls the sensation of the body, almost like the idea of pleasure of epicure: non-pain, leaving only the feverish sensation on my body and nothing else. As such, I can't return to the state of sleepiness.

I open my eyes, the sound of birds chirping amidst the wind. A hardy material sustains my head, while an earthy wet covers the back of my body. The sticky sensation is a presque vu, just change the ground with a tapestry and there shall be a Deja vú instead.

Despite the sleepy limbs which don't waddle at my command. I raise myself from the clutches of sleep, whispering down at my ears to forget the surroundings and return to the world of non-conscience.

Am I falling asleep or am I waking up?

My stomach grumbles at my rambling. I sigh as I gaze at the tents far away. Just bare white dots, while the rest of the area is a green prairie. I pinch my eyes as I curse under my breath. It's better than dealing with the mess that is the actual camp.

I trudge towards the camp, my legs screaming at me as my heels burn when they touch the ground. The harsh soles of my wasted shoes don't help at all. A sharp gelid wind comes washing over me, my arms trembling and my teeth clacking against the cold.

Despite the sun watching over his kingdom, the clouds overturn the solar rays and turn the world into hues of gray. A random meteorological event, but still… this is going to be one of those hellish days, isn't it?

As I walk forward, I can't help but look at my hands. I sigh, how many days have I wasted away in that dungeon? How much time could have been spent on convincing Reflet not to destroy the world? That's it, I have to somehow speak with Reflet today. Yesterday was not enough, just a few exchanges! I have to do something more concrete and convince her once and for all to stop this madness!

I clutch my hands as determination comes to my mind. I'm a wreck but I need to do something, anything to stop her!

Before I can notice, I am at the entrance of the camp. I look around, and find not many tents around. A few archers are drawing their bows and aiming at makeshift targets made out of straw. Some soldiers drills formations, a commander screaming order after order like a non-stopping computer answer.

Amidst the so-called training area, a few mages are preparing spells. In particular, a white-haired man is gazing at his fellow soldiers, the smile on his face strained and his hands clutched, barely holding himself.

I look away and turn to walk further into camp, but a blare from the mages' position.

"HEY, GABRIEL!"

It seems even a corpse like me is cursed to be followed by the white-haired psycho. Then again, he has a keen ability in noticing carcasses amongst the living.

I steal a glance and notice him walking in my direction, waving his hand. I quicken my pace, but the man still catches up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"Is that any way to greet such a good friend?" Henry says chirpy.

I sigh, rubbing my brow. " no, it is not a good way to greet a "friend". But I need to eat."

Henry pouts at my answer, as I pull out of his grab and head for the kitchens. However, he steps in front of me.

"Don't worry. My body needs food, just like my arteries need blood."

I shrug. What is the point of resisting someone so obsessed with blood?

"Whatever, feel free to follow."

Henry nods and keeps to my left. Before we can actually proceed, though, he glances at my arm and whistles as he watches the bandages.

"That is quite a nasty wound you got right there! It even looks like you lost quite a bit of blood. Good thing there was a lot in your body, eh?"

I blink at his comment. "I see…"

I can't help but shudder at Henry's fixation with my wound. Almost as if he's found his personal holy grail.

"Why are you interested in it?" I blurt out.

Henry smiles ear to ear. "I'm just curious about how flesh is affected by wounds. You know, despite how lovely corpses can be with their decaying wounds," he points at the bandages "it's quite a different thing when you are dealing with wounds on a living being."

"I see" I reply as I look away from him. Unfortunately, Henry doesn't stop his tangent there.

"On a corpse, wounds never regenerate. I can reanimate the dead but never heal their wounds. But with a live subject, if the right amount of magic is applied, a body can regenerate."

Henry's excitement increases as he goes into more details, squealing like a fangirl meeting their idol. I can only nod to that.

"But," a venomous tone comes to his voice "I can't pick up any more bodies. No one allows me to pick up anything! If only I could learn the living's secret, I could make a regenerating corpse! Imagine the possibilities!"

Uh… considering who you are, something about destroying and seeing blood.

His voice falters as his eyes drop. "This is a beautiful dream."

In your land, Henry!

"But I can't even pick up any more bodies. It's so boring around here."

He sighs as his smile falters into a frown.

"Well… there isn't much you can do about it, I'm afraid," I reply, causing him to nod.

"That is true."

He shrugs his head around before turning back to me. "That reminds me you are barely speaking. How rude of me, how was the prison break? Did you get to see a lot of guts?"

I sigh as I answer him. "It was a mess. Almost got myself killed. If anything, I saw my blood more than anything else."

Henry frowns at my answer. Did I set him off or is he unhappy that I saw that much blood?

"Those bastards! Wasting their time gutting a friend! How dare they!"

I blink at Henry's response. What the fuck? What did I just hear?

"You see, Gabriel, you need to gut them, make their warm blood fall to the ground," the crow man spits while I frown at his words. "After all, they couldn't even properly make you bleed! They think they can waste blood into nothing!"

Ignoring his ramblings, I look forward. Steam is coming out of a cauldron, with soldiers gathering around it like moths to a flame. We fall in line and wait for the sacred thing known as a meal.

Henry thankfully shuts up for once and, little by little, the line gets smaller until I'm next. One person puts a bowl and the other adds a yellowish paste. Once I'm out, I walk away from the kitchens and start gulping down the paste.

The texture is horrendous as always, but then again soups tend to have awful texture. Besides, the flavor doesn't even register in my mind. It is only nourishment and nothing more. But even I almost gag as I gulp down the horrendous food. Part of me wants to vomit the horrendous meal, but I ignore the urge. I swallow what is left and cringe at what has happened so far. The first objective is done, now unto Reflet.

Before I can walk away, Henry arrives with his bowl on his head. "Hey, you didn't forget me, did ya?"

I place the bowl in front of him.

"Oh, you already finished your meal. The problem is yours, I'm not going to gulp down this thing like it was blood."

I ignore Henry's answer and walk back to the counter, giving the bowl back before leaving again.

Perhaps I was a bit rash with Henry. It must be kind of unpleasant-

Focus on your objective right now, Gabriel. You need to talk with Reflet.

I head toward Grima's tent, but while I do so, I notice the stares everyone seems to be throwing at one another's shadow, the atmosphere around them thick and heavy, as if they're waiting for the next tragedy. The illusion of yesterday's unity is shattered beyond my very eyes. Even the music of the one oud playing is as melancholic as the clouds over our heads. And as I walk further into the encampment the more the dearth of people becomes apparent

The multitude of people, of those soldiers looking for food, is gone. Now only a few strands of people walk inside the corridors delimited by tents. Only now scraps remain out of what once was. Ouds split in half, tablas with broken timpani and not far away from either of those. A figure of the eyes of Grima standing abandoned in the ground, dirty by brown soil.

As I walk the trails of the abandoned object, the sounds of a discussion tune up in my ears. Two men block the passage.

"How dare you soil the image of Grima!" a man with black clothing accuses, pointing his finger at one wearing red clothes.

This other person pushes the finger away and retorts, "What you carry is nothing but heresy! Don't you dare call it Grima's symbol!"

The first man - a messianic, from the sound of it - keeps his head high as he responds. "Such nonsensical claims! Grima isn't a substance. Your god is standing right in front of us, in the form of the girl. Can't you see with her victories and powers? Oh, I remember why your group is only focused on the falsities of the mind and not on the reality of action. It was foolish from the beginning to argue with such washed-up lunatics."

Amidst the chaos of the situation, another man steps between them. "Brothers, remember that we still have an enemy to fight! Despite our differences, we still believe in the sovereignty and superiority of Grima beyond all other divine figures. Stop this right now, so that we may focus on pursuing Grima's goal!"

The orthodox man snickers at that. "To say that this cultist is worshiping Grima is a lie. True believers don't mingle with infidels." He then spits at the messianic's face. .

The messianic growls as he removes the saliva from his face. Before long, he kicks at his theological enemy's legs, causing him falter on the ground.

The would-be peace-keeper panics at that and wraps his arms around the messianic, failing however to restrain him as he's pushed away.

The messianic steps toward the orthodox, but he's met by the other's fist. He falters and brings a hand to his nose as blood pours from his nostrils. As the two growl at each other, a fight ensues, the following commotion causing more and more people to come from all over camp and gather around the two.

Damn, now I have to get past this.

As the path toward Reflet's tent grows narrower and narrower, I put my arms in front of me and push people out of the way. A lot of them curse at me, calling me a little asshole, but I move along, digging my way until I get out from the crowd. Looking back, I see a whole block has formed by now.

The seeds for this fight had already been planted for a long while, and its fruits are now being harvested all throughout Plegia. Such is the nature of this place. Before Reflet even dares to change stuff, the followers are going to destroy themselves.

There is only one goal left to do: reach Reflet and talk with her. I look away from the confrontation and to the one tent standing out among all others. The saffron and purple colored-cloth don't lie. This is her tent. It's time to focus.

The Eyes of Grima, weaved into the fabric of the tent, stare down at me as I approach, their presence felt every step of the way.

As I walk in, I'm met by more Grimleal regalia and rituals. Priest offering wine served under a small skull made to look like the liquid and the structure from the capital's messianic temple and people forming a queue to block the passage. Choirs singing Grimleal prayers at every corner.

I pull my hood over my head to blend into the environment, just another follower amid this world of fanatics. I lower my head to avoid any stares and walk by unnoticed.

Then suddenly, a strange sensation slips inside my heart, beating fast as the rounds of a machine gun. It feels like someone has been following me, but find nobody when I turn around, besides those praying to the Vessel.

I press further into the tent, the flock of people dispersing. The interiors get more luxurious, lines of poetry and geometric forms etched in the fabric. However, as I get closer to my objective, the feeling of being stalked pricks at my brain again.

The luxury and heavy atmosphere take their toll on me. The people I can see glancing at my every move, hands on the pommels of their swords but still as statues as they stand guard before the rooms of their lords, don't help.

I pant as I walk forward, my eyebrows drenched in my cold sweat coming down to my spine. I am but a stranger in a den of lions ready to strike down anything opposing the Vessel.

Can I walk out of such a place alive?

I sigh. I cannot stop now, I must stop Reflet.

I come across the entrance to Reflet's room, two scarves-covered guards standing by while the covers are tied by a knot. I gulp down and approach. Even if the tent is closed, I shall get in there somehow.

As I stand a few centimeters away from the knot, I grab it and untie it. I gaze at the two entities, but rather than look at me, they keep they looking in front of themselves.

A lump forms in my throat as I consider the possibility she isn't here to begin with, and my hands tremble. Nevertheless, I grit my teeth, slap my cheeks and pull the rugs apart.

There is only a piece of tapestry on the ground and nothing more. What in the actual hell?

A swift wind hits my arm, while rugged metal scrapes against my bloodied bandages. I blink, both guards' lances stuck against the ground as they slowly turn to me. Their eye holes pour black tears and gruff whispers come out from their throats.

I grapple away from their grips and step away from them as they yank their spears away from the ground.

Fuck!

I turn around and run away.

"Seu maldito Idiota, acha que realmente seria são simples assim!?" I scream at myself.

I look behind and see the guards taking slow strides, their imposing figures turning into small miniatures. Good, good! Then I look at what is in front of me and see everyone either snickering or glaring at me. Damn, damn!

One of them stands in the goddamn way. I've got just a narrow strip of space to get past the maniac. As such, I quicken my pace and run diagonal in hopes to avoid the asshole.

In response, he lifts his arm and stands like a goalkeeper in a soccer game. I put my arms in front of me as the distance between us decreased and my eyes narrow on the gap.

We meet, but he manages to grab my arm, his nails digging deep in my wound.

I grit my teeth as I'm pulled by the bastard, my legs trembling as they fail to drag me away. I turn to see a muscular dark-haired and bearded bastard, a tiara against his black hair. He smirks like he's caught the golden goose.

Dammit! You know what? Screw this!

I lunge at him, bite his nose, and put all my weight into my foot, landing it on the bastard's. His smirk turns into a frown and he lets me go, the skin of his nose reddened where I bit him.

I dash away from him, my legs screaming at each step. As I gaze around, people come out of their rooms and they slur unintelligible words.

As I make haste, they flock like ants towards the passage and a human barrier forms. As I approach it, the sounds of commotion grow louder than expected. Whatever is happening, there is still that fucking wall! I put my arms in front of me as I brace for impact and charge toward the group.

When it comes, we all fall like skittles and scatter around. My arm throbs in pain, my bandages ragged by the impact and stained by dirt. I cough, lift myself up and look at exit.

As the sweet taste of freedom penetrates my nostril, one of the bastards grabs my leg. I'm pulled away from the exit and back on the ground. I land on my hands and snatch onto the soil with my nails, my palms getting soaked by mud.

I try to kick the bastard's hand with my free leg, but another grabs it. I struggle as I continue to be dragged down into hell. Well, here comes my death!

Suddenly, something grabs me and pulls me away from them. My arm screams as I'm turned into a human tug of war. Saliva pours out of my mouth as my body is pulled apart by the messianic figures on my back and whatever is at the front. As they continue their hellish play, I groan. Why did it have to be like this!?

Another hand comes and grabs my other arm and then the tug of war stops and I fall down to the ground. My face is caked by dirt, my arms trembling like a floppy piece of rotten wood. I lift my head.

I am met by the sight of two whiteheads. One, a female, is sporting a neutral smile, though the stoic expression is betrayed by the twitch of her eyebrows. The other, a male, sighs in relief and offers me a hand. I rub my eyes and-

"Sheesh. I never expected you'd do something so stupid," the familiar voice says with its typical chirp, and I want to facepalm. Of course I had to be saved by him.

"Life isn't about expecting something and then getting it" I reply as my eyes shift to the other whitehead as she walks towards the fallen crowd. The Vessel glares at them before they scamper off. Before I can reach her, she walks straight towards the innards of the messianic area.

I will not let you escape right now!

I sigh then grit my teeth. I run to the vessel as if I had not tomorrow in sight. There it is, it is now or never! As I catch up with her, Reflet quickens her pace. No, you will not escape from me!

I put my shoulder onto her and she returned her gaze back at my hand. She grabs it and put away from her sight, before muttering to me.

"Now, it is no time for speeches or dialogues. I have something far more important right now, Gab. Please, do you understand?" She walks away from it, leaving me alone. I fucked it up again.

"Now, what are you going to do then?" Henry asks as he looks at me with his cursed smile.

I shrug. "Get my bearings, I suppose." I wave my right hand and walk aimlessly.

She was right in front of me! It was only a question of walking straight to her and speaking to her!

The sun shines brightly over the camp, forcing me to put my hand in front of my eyes to not get blinded by it. I sigh. The sun is mocking me yet again. At least, the bastard is right. I indeed have failed catastrophically.

There she was, right in front of my eyes, and I even got around to get to her voice and yet, I fumbled it. I fumbled the golden chance, just like the farmer who killed the golden goose.

"I will pay for such mistakes. I will pay for such mistakes. I will pay for such mistakes. I will pay for such mistakes. I will pay for such mistakes"


I stare at nothing like a decaying corpse. What was the point of today? What was the point? The point? I don't know. What else do I even know? I made such an awful mistake and everyone will pay for it. Everyone that isn't even involved in the madness!

"Gabriel… are you alright?"

Well, it was all my fault from the start. If only I had been more capable.

"Gabriel?"

I snap away from my thoughts and stare at the raven-haired woman, a stoic expression stuck on her face. However, when Tharja's eyes meet mine, her eyebrows falter

"Yes?" My voice comes out dejected, faltering even. I turn away from her and back to the sky, as the golden sun is slowly consumed by gray clouds.

"What has happened to you?"

I turn back to Tharja. Her once stoic face has turned into a frown and her hands clutch a book tightly in front of her chest.

"Do you prefer an honest answer or one that you'd like to hear?" I reply.

The dark mage sighs at the question and looks down at the ground before rising her head up to stare at me again. "I would much prefer that you speak the truth."

I close my eyes before speaking. My hand clutches into a fist, my nails piercing my skin. " I have failed in a very important task. It was so close and I failed." Why so cryptical, Gabriel? Just tell the truth, you are only hiding it. Just tell the damn-

"So you weren't able to speak with Reflet."

I nod to her as I open my hand and rub my eyelids, sighing.

"Gabriel, why are you being so stubborn?" The dark mage coldly asks, holding her book more tightly. "Do you really think you can convince the Vessel to abandon her goals? The goals she was born to carry out?"

I sigh at the question. "Well… as much as you are against it, I'm already too deep into it. Even if I can't convince her, I must try. It's better than nothing."

Tharja grumbles at my answer. "Isn't this pointless?"

I shake my head, before frowning at her. "Do you know what the future she wants to create entails, Tharja?"

She gets closer to me, a confused expression on her face. "What does it matter?"

My eyes get wide open and I glare at her, after it I facepalm. The woman blinks at me with her mouth wide open.

"Everything, and I mean it! I cannot falter when her plans are going to affect everyone's future. I must find a way, something or anything to convince her that her plans are not worth it."

Tharja scowls at my answer, her arms twitching. "Why do you want to change her plans so badly? Don't you see that she will break this cycle!?"

I shake my head at her answer as I imagine the world burning under the palm of her hands. Damned shall be this foreknowledge!

"Tharja, think for a moment," I put my hand on the shoulders of the dark mage and soften my voice. Her anger ebbs as her arms relax, but her scowl stays. "Your messiah is waging war against people as preparation for her plans and she needs to sacrifice people to somehow allow this to happen. Don't you see there is something off?"

Tharja scowl softens but her brows twitch. She opens her mouth, but no words come from her. I blink, did I convince her?

"Sacrifices are necessary for things to go smoothly. For something to start, you have to end something in return. There is no change without any price." She chagrins "But… the war against Ylisse might be unnecessary."

I nod to her and tell her, "Think Tharja. Don't you think there is another way besides going to war?"

Tharja looks away from me.

"Besides, if things went like your father wanted to, I wouldn't be speaking with you right now. And I'm someone who is as far away from this place as humanly possible. Would such a powerful being need some random foreigner to power itself?"

She turns her whole body away from me, mumbling to herself. I stare at her as the seconds trickle down into eternity. Once she stops rambling, she turns back to me. "In a perfect world, perhaps not. But this world isn't anything of the sort. Also, who do you think you are to know Grima's mind?"

I huff at her answer and step closer.

"Well, I don't know Grima. I only know Reflet, and she is quite a character. She is odd, definitely odd. We like to tease each other, which I mostly have the upper hand on. Actually, since Reflet is the vessel of Grima herself, I know her more as a person rather than as your theological figure."

"Gabriel, enough of this arrogance," Tharja coldly retorts, her face turning into a snarl. "You barely know anything about Grima, and it would be for the best if you kept away from her. For your own safety"

I sigh as I shake my head. "I don't care about my safety. I'm going to keep trying to see her. Do you really think a messiah would need to kill people to make this world a better place?"

She lets out an annoyed sigh and rolls her eyes. "If it's necessary then I think yes."

I scratch the tip of my eyes, the palm of my hand hiding my frown. "So you think the price outweighs the cost of living? Is building a paradise worth destroying a world? Is it fair?"

"Yes," she replies without a second thought. " As painful as violence can be, and as annoying as sad faces can be, if it leads to less suffering, than it will…"

Her phrase stutters as she searches for words. I blink as I gaze at her confused.

"It will be for the best."

"How do you know that is what will happen?"

She puts her left hand on her chin, surrounding herself with thoughts. I stim away, waiting for her answer as I tap my foot on the ground and replay Scriabin's sixth sonata in my head.

Tharja sighs as she gazes at the book she is holding. "I wish I could give you more concrete answers as a dark mage. But when I saw the power she had, all my disbelief was washed away. She is the figure that shall lead us forward."

Forward to destruction, Tharja.

I look away from her. What was the point of this conversation even? I resign myself with a groan and tell her. "I think we are not going to reach a consensus."

She frowns at my answer and some anger crawls into me, but I shake it off. Why keep hating her, Gabriel?

I turn away from her and walk away, not looking her in the face as I say, "So we agree to disagree then. Hope you have a good day."

But as I take another step, Tharja pokes my back. I look to her and see a little smile forming on her face.

"Despite our little discussion, I'm so glad." She notices my gaze and turns her smile upside down.

"Glad for what?" Then it dawns on me

"Perhaps things can be repaired between us."

We walk away from each other. There isn't much I can do but accept in the end. My hate slows down a bit, perhaps as much, she wasn't all that bad.

Tharja suddenly adds, "Be careful around Validar. Someone has bitten him in the face."

I look towards her with my eyes wide open. Oh… Tharja frowns at me.

"Hey, Gabriel and Tharja!" The crow man suddenly says as he appears out of nowhere. Both of us look at him. "I must inform you that the problematic person wants to fight in the battle."

I sigh as Tharja gives me a glare. She leans next to my ear and whispers."We shall talk more after this."

I shake my head. The battle has come sooner rather than later. Fucking hell, there is not even a single break.


Well, that was today's chapter. Hope you had fun.

Apparently, IS has made a very similar version of Grima/Reflet but in heroes or so the people that spoke with me told me that.. Well, I'm actually pretty happy with this lol. Although, I feel I'm a bit of an ego boost right now and I feel I don't deserve this. So I'm a bit angry at myself.

Massive thanks to Cavik for beta reading this fic. Also thanks for reading this fic, in spite of the awful grammar. As always, reviews are appreciated.

Here is the live for the server I participate, feel free to join: discord . gg / u89gs745fn

ZeroSpearow: Thanks for the kind words! hope this chapter was good.

2010si: Nah, I actually played thief before Metal Gear Solid. So to my mind, the stealth game is always going to be the original two thief games. The less we talk about thief 2016 the better though.

Crowbars357: Gabriel parle français! Gabriel parle français! Joking aside, well, as things are going, Gabriel isn't going to think that. So, he screwed up rather badly.