Chapter 4: Cultural Differences

Once we've recovered our belongings from our campsite the group carries straight on to Ylisstol. Nobody feels comfortable camping out on the road now that the dead are prowling about. It's a grueling march, especially after the battle, but I'm don't feel like complaining any more. The sooner we get back to civilization, the sooner I can clean myself up. And after the sweat, blood, and ash that I've been dealing with that is a very appealing prospect.

Seriously, I just made it out of chapter 1 and I already feel like I've survived the apocalypse. Really serves to motivate my whole 'get the fuck out of dodge' idea. When the actual apocalypse happens I am going to be absolutely fucked. Unless I just so happen to be long gone.

Hopefully the castle will give me a chance to make that happen. This being a medieval world, I imagine the royal family are probably the only people who can afford books, so with luck I'll be able to raid their library and figure things out.

Wish I knew how the printing press worked. If I 'invented' it here I'd make serious bank. Though maybe paper isn't that expensive here since magic tomes are a thing…

"Hey Robin, how does that tome of yours work?" I ask my travelling companion.

Robin blinks at the question, then pulls his book out and looks it over. "You know, I'm not actually sure! I assume it was taught to me at some point, but other than the gestures needed for my specific spells I really don't remember anything about it. And even that's probably more muscle memory than anything."

"Lissa's studying magic, perhaps she can explain it." Chrom comments. Our gazes turn to the princess as one.

Lissa blushes as the attention falls on her. "Uhh, I'm not really studying tomes that much, that's more Miriel's thing. But, well, I think that what the book's made of is important? Like, they use magical ingredients for the inks or the cover. I think that lets it channel magic? Like my staff!" She holds it up and points to the blue gemstone on the end. "The quality of the focusing gem in the staff affects what kind of spells it can handle. Usually an aspiring healer upgrades their gem as they learn to cast better spells, so the staff grows with you."

"Is it only the gem that matters, or is the staff important as well?"

"Only on a personal level." Lissa looks at her staff and smiles. "My healing magic is connected to positive emotions, so having a focus with sentimental value can make the effects more potent."

Positive emotions, huh? Looks like I won't be healing people any time soon. I've never been a particularly happy person. Oh well. I've never had much interest in medicine or first aid either, so it's no great loss.

Robin has pulled out his notebook again and is scratching notes down while holding his ink and quill in one hand. It's a clearly practiced gesture, evident from the way he dips his quill with the slightest flick and manages not to spill a drop. If I could whistle I'd be giving a mighty appreciative one right now."That is seriously impressive, dude." It also makes me want to invent ballpoint pens for this guy's sake. Lord knows how many notebooks he's gone through over the years learning that little trick.

"Huh? Oh yes, I suppose it is." Robin glances at his hands curiously. "I wasn't aware I was doing it until you pointed it out, honestly."

"It would seem the good tactician is an experienced scholar as well!" Virion chimes in. "Such dexterity with a quill, it beggars belief!"

"This raises all sorts of questions." Robin muses. "What must my circumstances been like for me to learn such a simple skill as this to an unconscious level?"

"Don't overthink it, man." I shrug. "All this means is walking and writing is nothing new to you."

"I suppose." Robin grins. "It would seem as though learning this small thing has whet my appetite for knowledge."

"Well perhaps seeing something new will sate your gluttonous mind, then." Frederick calls from his position at the head of our party. "We have arrived!"

I walk around a bend in the road and am left speechless by the size of this city.

It's… it's fucking puny!

To put it in perspective let's compare it to the town I grew up in. My hometown isn't large by any means, but it is pushing the line towards being classified as a city. About thirty thousand people.

And it's almost as big as Ylisstol. Ylisstol, the capital city. If it wasn't for the castle nestled in the hills above I wouldn't think it was anything special. Come to think of it, Southtown is considered pretty large as far as towns go in Ylisstol, and I was able to walk my way through it in a couple of hours without knowing anything about the place.

If my town didn't have apartment buildings and condos all over the damn place it'd probably be larger than Ylisstol. Especially since so many of the houses in the urban sprawl don't seem to have front yards.

I suppose it makes sense in a way. Medieval world, medieval population distribution. Still crazy to think that the scene of an epic story from my world is so tiny.

"Wow." I manage to say.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Chrom replies proudly, completely misinterpreting my shock. "We have gone to great lengths to ensure the prosperity of our nation after the war with Plegia, and Ylisstol is the fruit of that labor. It took many years of blood, sweat, and tears to achieve what you see here!"

"It shows." I smile, trying my best to not break the poor guy's heart. I'm sure that by the standards of the time this place is great, it's just hard to get excited about a city like this when you live within a few hours of Calgary. Hell, if I lived someplace like New York City or Tokyo I'd probably be laughing my ass off at this point.

Damn, the buildings are so small! You could stack thirty of these on top of each other and they wouldn't reach the height of some of the skyscrapers I've been to.

"Okay, that's enough standing around slack-jawed!" Sully hollers, snapping me out of my bewilderment. "Let's get to the castle so we can finally wash all the soot off!"

I grin at that. Just a little while longer and I can finally wash up and rest my legs. I can hardly wait for the chance to sleep in an actual bed.


"This is really not what I expected." I stare blankly ahead.

"Really? I'm curious as to what you did expect then." Frederick gives me an inquisitive look.

"Well, honestly I'm not sure." I shrug. "My homeland had individual bathrooms for each house, but that was made possible by very intricate plumbing systems. Obviously not possible here."

"I see. We do have internal plumbing, but to run it to individual households is well beyond our means. Yet you say this is the norm for you… Interesting." Frederick muses. "And I suppose, rather unfortunate in your case. You must not be used to this sort of thing."

"Not at all." I grimace as I keep my eyes trained upward. I'm standing in the middle of a big, steamy room lined with large wooden tubs of water. The other men are all here as well, very much unclothed and not giving two shits about the fact. "I know for sports teams back home it's pretty common, but…" I gesture to my physique uncomfortably. "I didn't really go for sports that much."

"Hmm…" Frederick looks over at me, before shrugging his shoulders. "Well it's something you'll have to grow used to, I'm afraid. This is hardly the only time this will happen. Especially since we'll have similar training schedules for the foreseeable future."

"I suppose so." My frown doesn't disappear in the slightest at that thought.

I've been to public pools before so it really shouldn't be an issue, but then again… I haven't been to a pool since I got fat. And the rest of the Shepherds are in excellent physical shape. Like, I have no interest in men but these guys are just objectively attractive, with the muscles to show for it. Even pampered noble Virion and bookworm Robin look fit enough to put me to shame, if in a leaner sort of way.

If I want to maintain my sanity around these guys I need to get in shape, quickly. My arms and shoulders aren't bad, but the rest of me is… Yeah I dwell on this too much already, time to not think about it.

Thankfully once I get in the tub it's not so bad. More like sitting in a bunch of individual hot tubs or something.

I set about scrubbing the dirt from my skin as the others make small chat, and I frown as I realize that this is totally another social experience for them. Fucking cultural differences can kiss my ass.

"So Ben, you were talking about sports earlier?" Chrom asks from across the room. "What kind of games do your people play?"

I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea of getting drawn into conversation while trying to clean up, but whatever. Like Frederick said, I have to get used to this. I throw a punch at my leg, safely hidden by the walls of the tub, and let the pain sharpen my thoughts.

I am fine.

I am not uncomfortable at all.

I am highly experienced at pretending to be normal. This is show time. And I am an actor playing a part. The part of a perfectly calm dude who is not disgusted by how ugly he is compared to his new found friends, or that he has to bathe in the same room as them.

I turn to Chrom and smile casually. "We've got tons, really. Sports are one of the big things that bring the different people in our world together. They hold tournaments with dozens of countries participating, for just about every sport you can imagine."

"So, Javelins, archery, hurling?"

I blink at that. "Uhh… the first two definitely, but hurling? Maybe? It could be called something else there, or it's just not as popular."

"So what is popular then?"

"Let's see, football, soccer, basketball, gymnastics, swimming, lacrosse… and of course the greatest sport of all…" I trail off for dramatic effect.

"Quite a claim! What is this greatest sport of yours?" Chrom leans out of his tub as he looks over eagerly.

I grin at the question. "Ask any Canadian and they will tell you the same: the true sport of the Great White North is and shall always be Hockey."

"I'm not familiar with that game." Chrom frowns.

"Well then! Once winter comes I shall show you. It is a great sport, one that requires speed, power, skill, and focus. When the lakes freeze you will understand."

"You're very passionate about this, aren't you?" Robin looks over at me curiously.

"Of course!" I raise my arms from the water and grin. "My people are a peaceful sort. Across all the world we are known for our impeccable manners and good cheer. It is a part of Canadian pride, that we act as such. And the secret to maintaining this is our sport, hockey."

"A sport which causes one to act with better manners? It sounds as though this is a proper gentleman's game!" Virion flips his hair, which slaps wetly against his neck. Chrom seems less enthused at the idea from the look on his face.

I dispel the prince's fears with a savage grin. Virion visibly flinches at the expression, and my explanation only seems to make him more uneasy. "Not in the slightest. We Canadians are a well-mannered sort because our sport is our outlet. It is in the icy ring of hockey that we unleash our aggression! Sticks duelling for control of the puck! Blades dancing across the ice! Bodies crashing together as we fight for points. And when tensions run too high and the gloves come off, the greatest of traditions begins: The Hockey Fight."

"This is a part of the sport?" Robin's hands seem to be moving of their own accord, as though writing notes in an invisible notebook.

"Officially, no. Hockey fights are totally against the rules, and players are penalized for taking part. But they are a beloved tradition; a critical part of the game. The sport may be played on ice, but the tempers flare all the hotter for it! And so when two players lose their composure they remove their gloves, drop their sticks, and beat the shit out of each other as long as they can before the referees step in."

I smile fondly at the memories of the local hockey games I went to when I was younger. I used to attend for free as part of my dad's pep band. Me with my saxophone, Stephan with his trumpet calling the charges, and Mike with his tuba, towering over everyone else. A merry gang of band delinquents who spent more time fucking around with our instruments than practicing, though we were no less capable musicians for it…

I've barely spoken to any of them in the years since I graduated. It could be years more before I ever get the chance.

"Are you alright, Ben?" Looks like Frederick's noticed my sudden mood switch.

"Yeah, sorry." I look up and flash him a smile. "Just thinking of home."

"Right!" Chrom nods and hauls himself out of his tub. "You'd probably like to get started on that issue as soon as possible, wouldn't you? I'm sure Emmeryn will be returned from her tour of the city by now. Let's go see about getting you access to the royal library."

"OH!" Robin's hand snaps into the air.

"Yes, yourself as well, Robin." Chrom laughs. "It wouldn't do to withhold resources from our new tactician."

It looks like the maids swept in and took our clothes for cleaning while we were cleaning up, so I'm forced to suck it up and dress myself in the clothing of the era for the first time. It's honestly not as bad as I expected. They seem to have picked out some earthier tones to match my original clothes, with a green dress shirt and a brown vest that looks to be deerskin. I had been wearing my spare trousers from Southtown, so I pull my jeans out of my bag, and wind up looking like an interesting mix of this world and my own.

"They better not mess up my sweater." I look over at the exit to the change room anxiously. "That was a gift."

"You have nothing to fear, Ben. Our staff are trained professionals. They would see damaging your clothing as a mark of personal failure." Frederick looks right at home in his white and black clothing, which perfectly matches what he was wearing under his armor yesterday. Dude probably has like a dozen matching sets of clothing. He and Chrom are both lucky to have full wardrobes already available.

Robin and Virion are in much the same boat as me, having had clothes provided. Robin seems to struggle with the buttons on his shirt, and looks seriously uncomfortable without his coat. Virion on the other hand takes one look at the outfit provided, scoffs, and starts pulling different shirts from his bag, scrutinizing them carefully.

I eye Virion's bag with interest. "Hey Virion, you wouldn't happen to have a brush in there, would you?"

Virion looks thrilled at the question. "But of course, my friend. A man of my calibre would never be caught without the tools to look their best!" He draws the fanciest fucking hairbrush I've ever seen from a pocket of his bag and tosses it to me. I pause for a moment to stare at the thing in disbelief (is this… ivory? And gold fucking bristles holy shit!), but the tangled hair in my eyes takes precedence over pondering how fucking rich Virion is. I set about easing the tangles from my hair with as much care as possible.

Virion grins as I sort myself out. "It works well, no? A beautiful thing is all well and good, but if it did not perform well it would be no better than a worthless trinket."

"Makes sense." I run my fingers through my hair, relishing the feeling of it as it falls against my shoulders. "Man, that's so much better."

If there's one thing I've always let myself be vain about, it's definitely my hair. Something about the feeling of running my hands through it is just weirdly therapeutic for me.

"You clearly care much for the maintenance of your hair! It is an admirable thing to see in a fellow gentleman." Virion smiles as I return his brush. "If you'd like I have some fine soaps that work wonders for keeping the hair soft and light. I would be happy to give them to you."

"I'd love that!" I look over at him with a grin. "I like to keep stock of that stuff, but I left it all at home. Sure you want to part with it though?"

"I can always obtain more." Virion shrugs as he looks over a ridiculous selection of cravats. "As I understand it, your unusual situation does not afford you the same opportunities." He picks his ruffle of choice and turns to give me a serious look. "And even were that not the case, I owe you at least this much."

Well. I wondered if this might come up again. Or rather, when. Robin seems unsurprised as well, and gives Virion a knowing glance. Hmm… tensions are running high and the conversation has barely started. Probably best to derail this one right from the start.

"How so?" I look over at him in confusion. "If this is about that thing with the tower yesterday, Robin and Frederick did most of the work, I just helped a little."

"Non, non!" Virion shakes his head. "As much as your aid in that matter was appreciated, I do not refer to that. I refer to what happened afterwards." I tilt my head to show how completely in the dark I'm pretending to be, and he frowns. "My good man, I very nearly left you to die last night. Surely this bears some remembrance?"

Frederick and Chrom look over in alarm at that, and I nod in understanding. "Right! No, I honestly forgot about that."

"You what?" Virion looks stunned, to an almost comical level.

"I forgot." I shrug. "Seriously dude, we were minutes away from burning to death, I had other things to worry about."

"Well, yes, but I left you! The good tactician Robin remained by your side, while I fled like a lowly craven!" Virion grimaces. He's clearly been beating himself up over this all day.

It strikes me as a bit ridiculous, honestly. He'd known me for barely five minutes at the time. Yet here he is talking like this was some grave betrayal on his part. He has a country full of people that he wants to do right by, and suddenly some random jackass he just met should be his priority? I'm not worth that.

"Look dude, I'm not going to call you out on not wanting to die." I wave dismissively. "I told Robin to fuck off too, I don't want anyone dying on my account. Besides, it was pretty clear you felt bad about it."

"Not badly enough to remain though." Virion shakes his head vehemently. "No my most honorable friend, I'm afraid I must insist that I was gravely in the wrong with my actions last night. The shampoos are an inconsequential thing, but let them be a token of my great regret for having wronged you, as well as my appreciation for your forgiveness. And it must also be said, that this in no way puts us on equal grounds. I owe you far more than mere soaps and words can atone for."

This sounds like a pain in the ass, honestly. But I can already tell I won't be convincing him. The dude is going to be stubborn about this. I cringe inwardly at the thought. Who would have thought that running from a forest fire would be seen as such a grave crime in Virion's eyes.

Oh well, if I can get some nice soap out of it, that'll be enough to make this worth it. Lord knows stuff like that is probably a luxury item in Fire Emblem land.

"Alright man, you do you." I sigh. "Just let it be said for the record I really don't think you owe me anything."

"If that's sorted?" Frederick interrupts and clears his throat. "I feel I must remind you we are due to meet Her Highness the Exalt."

"Ah! But of course!" Virion strides forward purposefully. "It will be an honor to partake in her radiant personage in person! Let us be off!" Looks like the thought of a beautiful woman has rather captured his attention. All the better for me.


Chrom leads us to the bathhouse entrance to meet with Lissa, Sully having already left for the barracks, then takes us across the training grounds and into the castle proper. The inside is impressive, though not as vast as the games seemed to portray it. You certainly wouldn't be able to ride horses down the hall like you can in the game.

The throne room is much the same. It's smaller than the cavernous space you see in the game. Torches burn brightly on the wall, to make up for the lack of windows. Between the torches elaborate tapestries hang, with beautiful embroidery. It seems as though as much has been done as possible to give the room an intimate, cozy feeling.

The Exalt stands at the back of the room, her throne empty behind her. At her right stands a stern woman that I assume to be Wing Commander Phila, and the walls are lined with armed guards who stand at attention. From what I understand of Emmeryn she probably doesn't even want the guards there, but it looks as though common sense has trumped blind trust and goodwill in this case.

Emmeryn is honestly impressive in real life. She can't be any older than I am, but her expression speaks of wisdom well beyond her age. Her head piece seems to glow orange in the light of the torches, and she looks over to us with a regal air.

And then she sees her younger siblings coming to greet her and all of that melts away. She smiles prettily as they approach and seems to relax, though her posture is still impeccable. "Chrom! Lissa! You've returned! Oh, and hello Frederick! How did you all fare?"

The conversation quickly turns into verbatim dialogue from the game, and I find myself tuning out as Chrom reports on everything. I glance over to the others, and see that Virion seems tongue-tied looking at Emmeryn. Clearly her beauty shines to pure for his eyes. Robin looks more interested in the talk of border troubles than I am, which makes sense since it's his first time hearing about much of it.

I perk up again when Lissa looks back at us with a grin, and The Exalt looks to us. Robin is immediately and visibly uncomfortable with the attention. I'm not exactly thrilled either, really, but I manage to put that aside and meet her eyes. It helps that I've never thought much of politicians to begin with. They tend to piss me off more than anything, so while I know Emmeryn is a kind leader, and she is beautiful enough to be seriously distracting, my disdain for her profession balances things out a bit.

"Ah, you speak of your new companions here?" She regards us curiously.

"This is Virion, who came to our aid during our journey home, Robin, who was instrumental in organizing our victory against the bandits, and Ben, who managed to hold the bandits off single-handedly until our arrival at great risk to himself."

"Whoa, making that sound way more impressive than it actually was there, buddy!" I can't help but interject. "I just jumped off a roof, yelled at some dudes, and flailed around like a moron."

"And the result was many lives saved and several bandits dead by his hand." Chrom replied with a grin.

"Are you messing with me right now or something?" I blink stupidly at Chrom.

"Just take the compliment and accept that you did well." Chrom orders, before turning back to his sister. "At any rate, I intend to make all three of them Shepherds."

"It sounds as though Ylisse owes the three of you a debt of gratitude." Emmeryn smiles broadly at us, which honestly takes my breath away. The woman seems to exude purity from her every pore, it's honestly overwhelming.

"Not at all, Milady!" Robin stammers.

"It was an honor and a privilege to aid such upstanding noble peers as these." Virion bows.

Her eyes travel to me next. "I believe my opinion on the matter has been made quite clear. That said, your good will is graciously accepted."

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I must speak." Frederick steps forward. "Robin claims to have lost his memory, but I believe it is just that: a claim. And Virion's circumstances are no less suspicious: he joined our group by harassing Knight Sully in the forest." Virion clears his throat nervously at that, but is unheeded by Frederick as the Knight continues. "We cannot rule out the possibility that they are brigands themselves, or even Plegian spies."

"Frederick!" Chrom snaps angrily.

"Honestly I'm surprised he had nothing to say about me." I comment aloud.

"If I may be frank, I consider your story to be so completely outlandish that only a fool would attempt to craft its like." Frederick levels his stare at me. "And while certainly reckless you do not strike me a fool."

"So you're saying… it's so crazy it's probably true?"

"Indeed. Though your wardrobe does aid you in confirming your claim. There can be little doubt that your clothing contains materials that I and the castle maids have no knowledge of. Even the tags identifying them were written in a language that was entirely foreign to us, and our resources in such matters is not inconsiderable."

"Ah, so you had them check it out while washing them!" I grin and wag a finger at him as though scolding. "Very sneaky, Sir Frederick." The knight takes my teasing in stride; if anything he stands taller as a result. Fine by me, let him feel proud. I can appreciate some good subterfuge, as long as I get my clothes back in one piece.

"I can tell there is much more to be said on this matter." Emmeryn interrupts calmly. "But for now I will simply ask this: Chrom, do you trust these three?"

"They put their lives on the line for our people, and the Shepherds. That is good enough for me." Chrom glances back at Virion while he says this, a fact that doesn't escape the others as well. Weird as it may seem to me, the archer's position is probably the most precarious right now. He's as new to the group as Robin and I, and earned his place mostly by chance rather than selfless action. I hope our conversation earlier doesn't fuck things up for him, he's a surprisingly cool guy. Also I want that soap he promised.

"Well then, it seems you've earned Chrom's faith, and as such you have mine as well."

"Milady." Robin looks ready to throw up from the stress, the poor bugger. Virion bows deeply, the weight of his position in the Shepherds borne heavily upon his shoulders, and I follow suit.

"Thank you kindly." I give the Exalt a lopsided grin. "My circumstances being what they are, I'm honestly amazed any of you trust me."

"Plegians raid our land and the walking dead fall from the sky." Chrom replies with a shrug of his shoulders. "In comparison to that a couple of mysterious yet helpful strangers is hardly worthy of alarm, even if you are an Outrealmer."

"An Outrealmer!" Emmeryn gasps in shock, and I see Phila stare intensely at me. "Well this explains some questions, while raising a great many more. Unfortunately circumstances being what they are, there will be little time for such matters at the moment, as we are about to hold council. Chrom, I realize you have only just returned from a harrowing journey, but I was hoping you'd join us nonetheless."

"Of course."

"I think that's our cue, boys!" Lissa grins and ushers Robin, Virion and I back to the entrance. "C'mon, there's a place I want to show you!" She tugs a very bemused Robin along by the sleeve and rushes ahead, leaving Virion and I to give our farewells and follow along.


The Shepherds may be a small group, but they are in essence Prince Chrom's own personal militia. That being the case, there are some definitive perks that come with the job. The first of these I've already experienced, access to a bathhouse typically reserved for use only by knights.

The second is access to their own personal barracks. From what Lissa tells me, the building was replaced with a newer, larger one during the last war, due to the massive military upscaling at the time. The old building was largely used as a storehouse until Chrom started his Shepherds. It's far too large for such a small group, but the logic seems to be that Chrom's handpicked soldiers are deserving of some form of luxury.

It's enough to make me wonder if anybody has ever tried to use some sort of setup to catch Chrom's eye like I did. Then again, even with the blessing of foresight my own ploy put me within several seconds of death. I doubt there's anybody out there crazy enough to try.

"Here we are! The home of the Shepherds!" Oh shit, got lost in thought again. I look around the room we've been led to and can't help but frown. It looks like the place is still being used for storage in some capacity, with bags of flour and firewood piled against the walls, and barrels full of weaponry lined below the windows. The corner of the room is stacked high with crates.

"It's certainly… cluttered." Virion mutters in distaste. I can't help but nod in agreement. I know this is essentially how it looks in the game, but seeing it in person makes it all too clear just how messy this room is. I can only hope the rest of the building isn't this full.

"Well since Chrom, Frederick, and I have to stay elsewhere, there's a lot of room to spare." Lissa explains sullenly. "So nobody wants to bother finding new space for things. We made them clear out the upper levels at least, but everyone drags their feet so much that it's hard to keep track of what goes where or who owns what and it's all such a production-" She blinks as she realizes how carried away with her frustration she's getting and goes pink. "Uh, sorry, I meant to say-"

WHAM!

Everyone jumps a foot into the air as the door to the left of the room slams open, and a blur of pink and yellow flies across the room.

"Lissa, my treasure! Are you alright? I've been on pins and needles!"

"Oh, hey, Maribelle!" Lissa grins as the girl in question crashes into her.

"'Oh, hey' yourself! I've sprouted 14 grey hairs fretting over you!" Maribelle scolds, looking the girl over for signs of injury.

"Aw, you worry too much! I can handle a battle or two!" Lissa grins, taking the fussing in stride. "Although I could do without the bugs and the bear barbecue..."

"Seconded." I deadpan.

"Aww, I thought the bear was delicious!" Robin protests.

"Buddy, by your present experience that was the first thing you've ever eaten. You are severely lacking in perspective right now." I grin.

"Hey squirt! Where's Chrom" The interruption of Vaike cuts off whatever reply Robin was preparing, and takes the attention of a curious Maribelle away from us.

"I bet he had a rough time out there without ol' Teach and his trusty axe!"

"I'm sorry, but the position has been filled." I display my own axe with a grin.

"What? Who the heck are you supposed to be?" Vaike steps back in a panic, before whirling to Lissa in panic. "You can't be replacing The Vaike like that!"

"He's not your replacement." Lissa giggles, before throwing her arms out to me dramatically. "Teach, meet your student!"

Oh right. Forgot about that part. I don't even try to hide my expression at this revelation, prompting both Lissa and Robin to burst into laughter. Maribelle is still clearly confused, but she understands enough to give me a pitying look.

"For real?" Vaike looks me up and down skeptically. "You sure you came to the right place? You don't exactly look the fighting type." He follows this statement by gesturing in the general direction of my stomach.

Oh.

Cool, nice to meet you too.

Lissa gapes at him in horror. Robin and Virion wince. Maribelle still seems preoccupied with wondering who we are, though she certainly doesn't look impressed by Vaike's lack of tact.

You know, I was feeling pretty good about things until just a second ago. Had my first ever meeting with royalty, made friends with Virion, got through my first time undressing around other men in ten years without wanting to curl up and die… Funny how quickly things can go to shit. "And a very merry go fuck yourself to you, too." I snap at Vaike. I am not in the mood for this. Actually, you know what? "I've had a long day Lissa. Do I have an assigned room, or can I just pick an empty one?"

Her gaze snaps to me immediately, her expression pleading. "Ben, you don't have to-"

"Lissa!" I snap, and immediately regret it. Great job Ben, now you're the asshole here. I school my face into a picture of calm, and force my voice to do the same. "Please."

"The… there's nobody staying on the third floor." Lissa replies softly, still blinking her big doe eyes at me. "They might be dusty, but…" Fucking hell, I think I just made a little girl cry. Way to go, me.

"Good enough." I stride towards the door Vaike and Maribelle came through as fast as my legs can take me. I have been awake for far too long to deal with myself right now. I need to sleep. I need… I need to get away from people. I need to not look like Vaike's thoughtless comment didn't just fucking gut me. I see the others look after me, but nobody seems sure of what to say.

Long strides. Fast strides. Not enough to be called a run, but quick enough to get me the fuck out of here.

Somebody runs into me on my way through the door. Whoever it is bounces off me like a ping-pong ball, hitting the ground in a heap. Fuck, mistake, stop and be a person again, Ben. Just hold it together for five fucking seconds!

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going." I smile, pulling the person to their feet without actually seeing them. "Pardon me." I'm going to break, shit.

They say something, but I don't even register what it is. I need to leave now. I can't… people right now. I see the stairs and keep walking towards them.

Calm. Calm. Don't break. Don't fucking break. One step at a time, round the corner… okay they can't see you anymore.

My breath hitches as I start scrambling up the stairs on all fours. Don't have the willpower to remain calm anymore. They can't see, so move. I need to be away from them. I don't need their judgement, I don't need their pity.

I need to fucking break something.

I need to sleep.

I need to wake up able to pretend I'm not me again.

I hit the top of the stairs and throw the first door I see wide open. It has furniture. It'll work. It take me to swipes of my arm before I get my hand on the door handle and slam it shut behind me. The door swinging sends dust blowing across the floor. Looks like the maids had better things to do than to clean an unoccupied room. That's… fucking gross actually. Enough to snap me out of my mood completely.

I'm not staying in here.

My trudge down the stairs is that of a man defeated. I have no more energy to spend on keeping my composure. Everything is just hitting me at once.

"Oh! You're back!" I blink in surprise as a voice calls out. There's a girl standing at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a plain gown and with ash blonde hair running down her back. I feel like I should recognize her, but there's nobody in the cast who looks like this…

"It's filthy up there." I mutter in response.

"Yes, the maids don't go up there often." The girl sighs. "Were you… looking for someone?"

"I'm looking for an absence of someones." I reply. "I need a room."

"Oh…" the girl looks confused. "You're staying here?"

"Is that a problem?" I grumble. "Do I not look fit enough to be here?" I really don't need more of that shit right now.

"What? No!" She blinks, taken aback by my tone. "I just wondered who you were… I know everyone staying here at the moment."

"Right…" Of course she's wary of a random fucking stranger. "Fucking hell, I'm sorry. Bad day. Name's Ben. I'm new. Just joined today."

"Oh, I see!" The girl seems to perk up at that. "It's okay, I understand. I thought you seemed a bit upset when I bumped into you earlier."

"Ah shit, that was you?" I groan. "I'm sorry, I just really… wanted to get to bed."

"I understand." She smiles sweetly. "With all the yelling going on I don't blame you for wanting to leave."

Yelling? Great, looks like me storming out caused even more problems. "Fucking everything up all at once." I mutter.

"No really, it's okay!" The girl shakes her head vehemently, not understanding what I'm upset about. "I'm a bit of a klutz, so I'm used to falling down! No harm done."

Wait… "What's your name?"

"Oh!" The girl blinks in surprise. "My name is Sumia. It's a pleasure to meet you." She dips her head and curtsies.

"Likewise." I mutter, looking her up and down again. Without the armor or her hair done up she looks like a totally different person. In the game she always looked more like a doll than an actual human being. Seeing her dressed so plainly, she really looks quite charming.

"So you were looking for a room then?" Sumia blushes under my scrutiny. Fuck, dial it back, get your fucking brain in order again dude! Don't make the nice girl uncomfortable!

"Yeah." I school my face back into something carefully neutral. "Preferably one without dust everywhere."

"I see!" Sumia smiles, steepling her fingers in front of her. "Well, some of the rooms on this floor are still available, and the maids keep everything clean here. Let's find you something."

She leads me down to the end of the hall, and shows me to the room at the very end of it. "This one's should work, it has a view of the whole valley from the window! Well, all of the rooms on this side of the building do, but it's still very nice!"

"That sounds great." I feel a weary smile creep across my face in spite of my current mood. "Thank you, Sumia."

"Of course!" She turns back with a smile, but falters when she looks at me. "Is… is there anything else I can do for you?"

"I don't think so." I sigh. "I just… want to sleep."

"Okay…" She frowns, stepping aside. "I hope you're feeling better in the morning!"

I send her one last smile and close the door. "I'm sure I will."

It's a lie, of course. I'm not sure at all. But even if I'm not, nobody will know the difference. Being okay is an act I've kept up for years. And who knows, maybe I actually will be.

Tomorrow's another day, after all.


You know, I wasn't actually planning on that ending. But as I was writing it occurred to me that there was really no way Vaike wouldn't have something to say on the subject. And things wrote themselves from there.

To anyone wondering about any information I give in regards to my life, a great deal of it is changed for reasons that should be obvious. My actual name is Ben, as it says in my profile, and I am from Canada, but anything more specific than that I've tweaked the details. Gotta make mention of that stuff or the story is severely lacking an important sense of personal stakes, but not gonna give people my home address or anything stupid like that.

Anyways, I hope you all found this weird journey into the more fucked up side of my personality to be interesting. See you next time.