Sorry for the wait, everyone! August was a hell of a month. Well, mostly the latter half of it. Had to move out of my old place due to some financial problems, which took up most of the time and energy I'd normally put into writing. And once I had that sorted work went right to shit due to some chucklefucks quitting without giving any notice. Then another guy got injured, and another one went on vacation, and another one was transferred to a different store for a week. So yeah. Busy. Busy and exhausting. But I'm past the worst of it now, so I'm looking forward to getting back into the swing of things.
Hope this proves to be worth the wait!
Chapter 23: Reason
Since I was left on my own I've come to realize that my attitude towards conversation has drastically altered. As a general rule the Shepherds all tend to be largely easy for me to talk to, though there are some exceptions. Anna is a nightmare when you don't want to talk business, and I have no idea where I stand with Vaike at this point, but the rest I can safely say I get along with and talk with on a regular basis.
Fighting alongside people makes you feel closer to them in a way that can't be understated. Trusting someone with your life is a necessity on the battlefield, and every member of the Shepherds have proven themselves worthy of that trust. I'm probably not too worthy of it myself, mind you, what with all the horrible, life altering secrets I'm keeping, but I've also nearly died for them a few times, so I like to think it balances out.
Ugh. I'll be needing to open that can of worms soon, won't I? Yikes. Anyways.
All of this is to say that I have, in spite of my typical opinion on socialization, grown rather accustomed to talking with people. The Shepherds are something of an emotional support group for me, feeling close to me in a way few of my friends have ever been. I can count the number of people I trusted like that in my old life on one hand. The Shepherds are the big reason I've lasted through what is easily the most tumultuous and emotionally taxing time of my life.
This isn't to say that I'm falling apart now that they're gone. Only that as I continue to spend time on my own here, I find myself rapidly growing to miss them.
The barracks feel empty without the Shepherds here. Without Lissa's jokes and energy, without Vaike's yelling and bragging, without Miriel's research cluttering the tables… Well that last one hasn't changed, actually. The woman did not clean up after herself at all, and the maids have standing orders not to disturb anything she leaves lying about.
I don't know how Sumia managed being left alone as often as she was. No wonder she reads so many books. An escape would be lovely right about now.
I won't allow myself that luxury yet though. I need to do what I can to ensure that there is no repeat of this. I need to do everything I can to ensure that I will be declared fit for service when the Shepherds return. I need to confront my problems, and move past them, rather than try to pretend I'm still alright.
I'm quickly doing my part to establish a routine with the time I have to myself. My mornings are spent continuing my physical training. I wake before the sun has risen, slap myself with Miriel's heating spell, and run laps outside until the guards and knights have arrived to begin their training. Then I work on my upper body strength while they begin their training.
By the time lunch rolls around I've washed up and started on the next part of my plan: studying. I make my way to the castle library, and just start reading up on anything that interests me. Magic isn't the priority, since my spellbook currently consists of Miriel's heat spell drawn on a folded page in my pocket. Instead I look at things like etiquette, politics, and military tactics. I'm not even sure what I'm hoping to gain from it all yet, but I can't help but think that the information will prove useful before too long. I have little doubt the court of Ylisse will become an absolute clusterfuck once Emmeryn returns with news of war.
Dinner every night is followed by a train wreck. I am beginning to learn rather quickly that while self-medication is bad, it gets even worse when dealing with your own mind. I've been spending my evenings before bed attempting to use every psychological trick I can think of to try and face my inner demons. And about the only good thing I can say is that it doesn't seem to have worsened my condition.
Meditation is simply ineffective, as I can't seem to relax my thoughts enough to attain a proper sense of calm. Therapists aren't a thing here, since the profession simply hasn't been invented yet. And so far my attempts to directly confront my memory of the night at Kidnapper's Keep have been… ineffective.
See, when it boils right down to it, my brain is doing some serious compartmentalization. I can't seem to recall anything that happened that night past a certain point. There's a wall in my mind, and the information has been locked away behind it. No matter how hard I try to remember, nothing comes to me.
And so, after days of getting nowhere, I've decided to do something… kinda desperate. Because I've already learned one way to bring that mental wall down that I know is going to work.
I stand barefoot on cold stone, a robe thrown over my naked shoulders that barely reaches my knees. It's late, well past sundown, and a lone torch clutched in my hand casting dancing light across the walls. Spearheads, shields, swords, axes, and more glimmer in the firelight, the armory still well stocked despite all the equipment that was brought with the Shepherds. Their shadows dance in the firelight as well, dark points looming up across the walls, a grim ensemble of death here to watch my imminent pain.
There is no doubt in my mind that this will hurt. A plan this reckless can only end in suffering. But if I don't face this, then I fear that I will never get past the trauma. It's a fear that runs strongly enough in me to drag me out of bed in the middle of the night for this half-baked scheme.
Already the scene brings back memories of that terrible night. Weapons gleaming in the torchlight, looming out of the darkness. And at the other end, snarling, ugly, leering faces, all clamoring for my death. For my suffering.
The faces are no more than memories. I've seen to that. But if the afterlife is real, I feel that this will sate the souls attached to those memories, at least in part.
I take a steadying breath. Then another. My mind is frantic, but my lungs move steadily. The first step in learning to sing is learning to breathe, and with a proper breath one can find peace in all things. My old singing lessons have saved my life in ways I could never have imagined since I came to this place.
Collect yourself, Ben.
It's only a memory.
It can't hurt you.
Not anymore.
I hold the torch higher. And pick up the axe.
My arm, still perforated with arrows, twists unnaturally as I tear at Ezra's leg-
-ribs crunch audibly as I bring the hammer down on Fish's chest-
-I pull my axe from his hands, my own blood still dripping from the blade-
-his glassy eyed stare as he lies in a pool of his own brains-
-a reflection less like a human being and more like a monster-
-"You can't do this to me, I'm sorry I'm late, please don't die!"
"FUCK!" I bellow, curled up on my side against the cold stone floor.
It still hurts. Oh god it hurts so fucking much, why did I think for even a moment that I could pretend otherwise?
The torch fell from my hands at some point during this idiocy, sputtering low on the floor. Christ, how long was I out for?
What the fuck did I just do to myself? What made me think that would help? How could I be so fucking stupid?
For a brief moment my frustrations get the better of me, and I roll onto my hands and knees to scream at the floor. A long, drawn out bellow, for as long as I can hold it. Then another. By the time I've done it a third time my throat is raw. My arms tremble with the sudden desire to just tear something to shreds, a result of the pounding adrenaline and raw fear I just submitted myself to. Maybe I'll go hit a training dummy. That's probably the best way to release all this tension. First I need to put the axe away though. Now where the fuck did I drop it?
I spot it as I rise to a kneeling position, gleaming just on the edge of the torchlight. And-
Somebody's holding it. Hands, curled around the weapon, looming from the dark!
I throw myself forward without a second thought, bellowing like an animal, swatting the axe from my assailant's hands, as my other comes up to reach for their throat. "YOU WON'T FUCKING TAKE ME!"
A shrill scream answers me, along with hands thrown up in a feeble self defense. Too feeble. I catch myself at the last moment.
One of the maids stares up at me, terrified eyes nearly bulging from her head. Tears burst from her eyes. "Please don't! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- to-" I stare in horror as she nearly collapses. That horror explodes as my hands jump to her shoulders to steady her… from their original position around her neck.
"Oh fuck." I gasp out. "Oh fuck, no, what the hell did I just…" I release the woman, who sinks to the floor gasping for breath. I stumble away, collapse back onto my hands and knees, and vomit my dinner onto the floor.
Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.
I nearly killed her. I saw the axe, and I just… reacted. I almost strangled the life from an innocent woman.
What the fuck's wrong with me? What if that had been Sumia? Or Lissa? Or Noire? No, fuck that line of questioning, this is every bit as bad as if it were a Shepherd. Holy shit, what if I didn't stop? What if I killed…
"Felicity." I croak out in sudden realization, the name coming to me with a jolt of realization. Her name is Felicity. I remember her because of her tendency to forget the linens most nights. No doubt she's here because she came back to retrieve them, like she always does.
Felicity doesn't respond to her name, still sobbing into her hands. I've probably scarred the poor girl for life, horrified her so badly she doesn't even recognize that I addressed her. Assuming I haven't fucked up and forgot which maid I just tried to murder…
My horror fades away to a bone deep weariness as I realize the extent of this complete failure. I've hit a new low, haven't I?
Mental health problems are not a new phenomenon for me. I've suffered them for most of my life, after all. But I used to think that I was at least getting better. My life back home was… well, humble would be generous, really, but it was stable. I used to take comfort in that. I used to think that I was treading water after years of my life spent struggling for air. And then it happened…
"This fucking world." I grumble. "What a fucking joke."
I think, in this moment, I might be starting to truly despise this world. But is that fair? Everyone around me seems to find joy in it. And I've found my fair share of happiness here as well. I guess… it's just me.
I get back to my feet, trudging over to where the axe fell. I need to start cleaning this mess up, after all. I doubt I can do anything for Felicity after this fuckup, but there are problems in this room I can solve.
I reach down next to the terrified maid and grab the axe. There's a slight scraping sound as the tip drags on the floor.
"No!" I blink in surprise as my arms are suddenly filled with a flailing maid. "I won't let you do it!"
"What the fuck?" I stagger as Felicity throws all her weight on my arm, trying to pin my axe. "Get off me!"
"No, I won't, I won't let you!" She squeaks desperately, practically hanging off my arm. For a brief moment I let myself feel a sense of pride that I'm managing to hold her off the ground. Then she lashes out and catches me in the gut with a shoe, and I go back to being annoyed and confused.
"Ugh, will you chill out?" I snap, staggering from the blow. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? That was- that was an accident!"
"I don't care, I won't let you have this axe!" Felicity cries out in distress. "If you kill yourself then Lady Sumia will never forgive me!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I stare down at her in disbelief. "I'm not going to kill myself, you lunatic!"
Her struggling stops briefly. "Y-you're not? Eep!"
She squeals as I finally manage to dislodge her, sending her tumbling in a heap. I stomp back over to the wall, replace the axe, and then retrieve my torch. I turn back to Felicity so I can ask her what the fuck that was all about. She's staring up at me in confusion, completely oblivious to the fact that her dress is coming… very loose as a result of the struggle. I promptly turn away again. "Make yourself decent, please."
There's a brief pause, followed by a high-pitched whine and the frantic rustling of clothing. I stare blankly up at the ceiling.
Is it wrong that I found that sight to be extremely attractive? I feel like I should be ashamed of that or something after tossing her around the way I did. Whatever, I'm only human. A barely dressed maid was just sitting on her knees in front of me. I'm allowed to find that hot.
Felicity clears her throat delicately behind me, and I take that as a cue that it's safe to face her. She's tiptoed closer while I had my back turned, which is annoying because I'm probably blushing like crazy right now. Hard not to. She's a cute girl, around twenty years old, with big soulful blue eyes and blonde hair. Normally she'd have it done up in a bonnet, but it looks like she's let it hang loose now that her shift is over. Still wearing the normal bodice and skirts all the maids wear though, so she was probably just wrapping up for the day when she realized she had to come back.
That's right Ben, flex those detective skills, just the thing to take your mind off of… other things…
What the fuck is wrong with me? Stop perving on her, Christ!
"Are you okay?" Felicity asks concernedly, eyes practically sparkling in the torchlight. "Have you recovered from that awful state you were in?"
"State?" I blink at the question, before my brain finally catches up. "Okay, hold on, no."
"You haven't?" Felicity rears back in shock, then grabs my free hand. "Is there anything I can do for you, sir? Should I fetch a healer?"
"Stop! Stop, stop, stop." I tug my hand free and clap a hand to my head. "That's not what I- Look, this conversation is totally backwards, alright?"
"Backwards?"
"You shouldn't be- We can't- I should be asking, God, fucking- hold on." I stammer uselessly for a few moments before I finally get my thoughts in order, and stare down blankly at her. "I tried to kill you."
Felicity pales at that, finally seeming to remember the danger I pose to her. She takes half a step back, a hand twitching towards her throat, before she gathers her strength and recomposes herself. "You didn't hurt me, sir."
I look at her throat uneasily. It's true that there's no marking there, but my mind can still clearly picture the exact place where my hands had begun to tighten. "Not for lack of trying."
Her face puffs up into a pout. "You stop all that right now, it isn't fair at all! I may not be a soldier like you, but I could tell easily enough that you were in a lot more pain just now than I was!"
I blink slowly at that, completely taken aback at the determination in her voice.
"Have. You. Recovered?" Felicity repeats sternly.
"I… think so?" I blink at the tone in her voice.
"Good." Felicity says, though her frown stays firmly in place. "Now what in the world possessed you to harm yourself like that?"
"Harm- that wasn't what I was doing!" I protest. "I told you, I'm not suicidal!"
"Maybe you weren't trying to kill yourself, but you were certainly trying to hurt yourself as much as you could!"
"I wasn't! I didn't pick up that fucking axe so I could cut myself open, you ditz! I was just… look it's complicated, okay?" I throw my arms up in frustration.
Felicity's eyes narrow. "You know, all the maids here have an idea of your situation."
My eyes go wide. "They fucking WHAT?"
"Sumia explained the basics. She was-"
"She set you all to SPY on me? What the fuck! Of all the sneaky, underhanded-" I don't get the chance to continue, due to Felicity slapping me across the face.
"She was concerned for you." Felicity hisses. "She told all of us that you were suffering after being horribly injured in Regna Ferox, and asked us to come tell her if we thought anything was amiss! How dare you imply for even a moment that her intentions were anything less than pure! I have known that girl my whole life, and she would never act in such a way!"
"Okay! Okay, you're right! I'm sorry!" I raise my hands in surrender. "She didn't deserve that. I just… I'm sensitive about that particular topic. I'd rather as few people know about it as possible."
"Well, I suppose that it's simply too bad then, that you should feel so greatly inconvenienced by Lady Sumia's concern." Felicity sniffs indignantly, turning aside with a huff.
I can only sigh at that. This has got to be one of the bigger dick moves I've made since coming here. Sumia's done so much to earn my trust since I arrived here, I should never have doubted her, even for a second. She's done nothing but look after me… and I guess this is just her doing more of the same.
Felicity still hasn't moved, so I guess she's waiting for me to say something.
That might be a good thing.
"Sumia doesn't actually know what happened to me, you know."
Felicity stiffens at this, but doesn't turn around, so I continue. "See, my injuries aren't the problem. Not really. What happened to me isn't what's wrong here."
"Then what is?" She asks sulkily, now barely watching me out of the corner of my eye.
"It's not what happened to me…" I repeat, gathering myself. "It's what I did to the people who hurt me. It's the blood on my hands. It's what I'm capable of."
Felicity pales at the look on my face as I say this, but still seems to properly consider my words. After a moment, she turns to face me properly. "I would like to humbly request that you skip your training routine tomorrow. There's somebody I think you should meet."
"This was your big idea?"
"Sir Benjamin, please don't be difficult about this…"
"Hey, I'm still following you, aren't I?" I roll my eyes. "Also, never call me Sir Benjamin ever again."
"Sir, then."
"Try just saying Ben."
"Sir, I will remind you that I am a servant of the castle. As a Shepherd you are considered of similar rank to the royal guard. Calling you by name would cause an outrage."
"Slapping me is apparently fine though."
Felicity goes pale at that. "Oh goodness I forgot I did that. If anyone were to find out I'd lose my job in a heartbeat."
"Even if it was totally deserved."
"The emotions of a maid are irrelevant. In Castle Ylisstol, rank outweighs everything… with some rare exceptions." She's referring to the royal family, no doubt.
"That's bullshit." I grumble.
"I appreciate that you think so." Felicity smiles brightly at me. "Nevertheless, it's not something either of us are truly in a position to refuse."
"I suppose not." I sigh, thinking back to my etiquette studies. Chrom and the others are well known amongst the court for being habitual rule breakers. They have a strange tendency to treat people as... people (what an outrage, oh no!). But as for the rest of the Ylissean nobility… They take it seriously, like only a stuck-up noble can. Bunch of fucking peacocks strutting around like narcissistic assholes, if you ask me. But I know better than to say such a thing out loud. Especially not here.
"If you'd please follow me, Sir." Felicity calls back to me, and I hasten to catch up, despite my misgivings. She is, after all, leading me up the steps leading to the Cathedral of Naga.
So help me, the 'somebody' Felicity wanted me to meet had better not be Jesus!
Or… whatever the equivalent of Jesus is around here? I guess that's Tiki, isn't it? Okay, so I'm not meeting dragon Jesus anytime soon. Still somewhat worried they're going to try to convert me though.
I've already unconverted myself from religion once in my life, I have no desire to repeat that process. I don't care if Naga is real, I don't feel all too inclined to worship her. From what little I remember from the lore she treated her daughter like shit, so she can just piss off as far as I'm concerned. Not that there's a religion where the bigshots do treat their kids right, but it's a worse offense if you're not imaginary.
Well, even if this trip does turn out to be a bust, I suppose it'll be cool to check out the church. The building sits halfway up the hill towards the castle, and I more or less walk past it every time I go to town and back. Since I'm not a fan of religion though, I've always avoided it.
It's an impressive building. Lacking in comparison to some cathedrals I've been to, but when you've visited Notre Dame or the Sagrada Familia most buildings seem to pale in comparison. As it stands, it's still a nice church. Could probably give a lot of old churches in Europe a run for their money, from the assortment I've seen. And I've seen a lot. It's just what happens when you go on a foreign trip in a Catholic School.
In terms of size it's probably about the same as Notre Dame, but the design seems a lot simpler. Fewer arches, not as much detailed statues and stonework. The big things that distinguish it are the decorations. Fewer statues of saints and angels, more depictions of swords and dragons. The archway above the main entrance is fashioned into a great pair of stone wings. To enter this building is to enter the embrace of Naga. Cool beans.
It's not a typical day of worship, so the building is emptier than one might expect. Priests and priestesses are scattered throughout the main hall, and some of the more devout Ylisseans are fervently praying at the foot of the main altar. A few folks on religious pilgrimages are here too, identifiable by their worn clothing and weaponry. In a church that praises the Hero King Marth, wielding a blade is its own form of worship.
Of course, I'm not one for worship myself, so the majesty of the building wears off before too long. I pull my eyes away from the stained glass and high ceilings, and realize that Felicity vanished while I was admiring the place. Guess she's grabbing her friend. Which leaves me to wander this place on my own… Not the most comfortable situation. I feel pretty out of place in churches these days.
I used to be pretty devout, once upon a time. My childhood was spent dutifully attending church every Sunday. I'd pray, I'd sing, I'd take part in all the youth programs… and then as I got older, I stopped feeling the same about it. It happened slowly, my sense of fulfillment waning as I stopped feeling the same desire to please the adults around me. Any attempts I made to delve deeper into the Christian lifestyle fell flat as it became clear I wasn't really gaining anything from it all.
There's a part of me that still believes in God, but that part believes just as strongly that God has no desire to play a part in the affairs of humans. Because if you had the power to create universes, why would the actions of a few relatively insignificant beings on one tiny planet out of billions matter to you in the slightest? He's certainly given no indication that he gives a shit about me.
So in the end I denounced my own faith. Why put any effort into worshipping God? God will never do anything for me. There is no force out there in the world that can make my life better. The only higher powers out there in the world have an agenda beyond the comprehension of humankind, assuming they exist at all.
Of course, that logic isn't nearly so applicable here. In the world of Fire Emblem the Gods walk amongst mankind. Naga and Grima both use their worshippers as pawns to achieve their own end, though Naga's designs are ultimately benevolent (if you aren't related to her).
The evidence of this presence is clear if one looks around this cathedral. The Mila Tree, the Holy Sword Falchion, great images of battles between godly dragons (Naga and Grima, or Mila and Duma perhaps?)… The Gods have made their presence known in this place, and their forms are common knowledge. Naga in particular, has a great stained glass window dedicated to both of her forms high above the pulpit. Her human form has arms spread in welcome, with her dragon body curling wings protectively much like the design at the front door.
"It's an inspiring work, isn't it?" I'm shaken from my musings at the voice, and turn to see a blonde woman in white robes has come to stand next to me. "Are you here on a pilgrimage? I do not believe that I have seen your face here before."
"Uhh, no, sorry." I rub my arm uncomfortably. "I'm not much for religion. A… friend dragged me here. Just admiring the art, I guess."
"Well I'm pleased to hear that you appreciate it." The woman smiles. "I would hate for you to feel as though this trip was wasted."
"…Is that sarcasm? Because it sounds like sarcasm."
"Not at all!" She blinks, taken aback. "I fully understand the feelings of those who come here without devotion to Naga in their hearts. I am simply happy to hear that you were able to find something here to appreciate."
"Alright, my bad, misssss…" I trail off into a hiss as I look fully at the woman… who has rather broad shoulders… and quite the jawline… Could it be… "sssss… ter?"
My confusion is misinterpreted, thank goodness. "Ah yes, I suppose I should have introduced myself. My name is Libra, a humble Monk of Naga." Aha, glad I realized before it got awkward. Even knowing of Libra's existence beforehand I nearly made the same mistake as the other Shepherds will before long.
"Ben." I give him a firm handshake. "I'm a member of the Shepherds."
"Oh?" Libra frowns. "I was told that the Shepherds were accompanying our Most Divine Exalt in her peacekeeping mission to Plegia."
"They are." I fail to suppress a grimace. "With the sole exception of myself."
"I can see there is a great deal of bitter feelings there." Libra nods.
"You could say that."
"Well, I shall not pry. I will tell you however, that we of the Church of Naga take pride in being a place of healing. For matters both physical and not…" He trails off meaningfully at this.
I mull the offer over for a minute. Still no sign of Felicity. And I suppose I did come here hoping to… get better. "Ah, what the hell. If you feel up to hearing me out, might as well talk your ear off for a bit."
"Certainly." Libra gestures to the side, where an empty pew is sitting in a quieter corner of the vast room. "Let's sit a while then. Physical comfort and mental comfort are closely linked after all."
"Sounds good."
Of course, once I've taken the offered seat, it properly occurs to me that I need to start speaking. I sit in silence for a while, working up the nerve. A part of me hopes Libra will start asking questions, so I have somewhere to start, but he just sits patiently, waiting for me to start speaking. Truly a beatific bastard, this one.
The silence lingers long enough that I wind up getting impatient with myself and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "I never wanted to be a Shepherd."
Libra turns his attention to me fully, but says nothing, prompting me to continue. "I'm not from Ylisse. I'm not from anywhere on any map in the country. I don't know how I ended up here, I just woke up in Southtown just before a bandit attack, and started fighting. My first day in this country and I killed three people."
"That must have been quite an ordeal."
"Oh yeah, they got me pretty good in return." I clap a hand to my thigh. "Sword wound. Would have bled out if the Shepherds didn't find me in time. It was my first time fighting. Well, first fight to the death, anyways."
"Most men would have difficulty with such a thing."
"Probably."
Libra's gaze becomes more focused. "Which is to say that you did not?"
"Yeah. I found the rationalization pretty easy. They were murderers. Inhuman monsters."
"No." Libra cuts me off sharply. "Ben, I understand that such thoughts are often a helpful crutch when helping one come to terms with one's actions, but I will not accept such talk. Not in Naga's house. I have little doubt that these were wicked men, but they were still men. The loss of any life is a tragedy in the eyes of the church."
"I'm not the church." I snap back, before thinking better of it, "But I will abide by your wishes. At least while here."
"That is all I ask." Libra replies, regaining his calm. "Now then. You're telling me that this incident, your first true brush with violence, was what prompted your induction into the Shepherds."
"Yup. Wasn't much of a fighter, but I've done all right. I fight, I take a few hits, and I win. The Plegians in Southtown, the bandits at the Far Fort, the guards at the Longfort, and… Kidnappers Keep."
"Hm. A rather dour name."
"It didn't have a proper name. That's just… what I call it." I shrug. It always had been one of the catchier location names in the game. "I'm sure the town had a name before the river swept most of it away, but I didn't particularly care to learn it."
"So, what makes Kidnapper's Keep significant?"
"Who says it is?" I grimace.
"Your pause rather said it all, I'm sorry to say." Libra gives me a rueful smile. "If you don't wish to speak of it, that's always an option of course. I simply focused on it because it felt important to you."
Kidnapper's Keep? Important to me?
"I hate that place." I protest irritably.
"A hated memory can be an important factor in one's life." Libra nods along. "We may not always care for the weight of such things, but sometimes denying such a thing can be the same as denying a part of yourself. If what happened was significant enough, it could very well shape who you are. Who you will become."
Which is why I've been trying so hard to push myself to come to terms with it. But the way Libra phrases it… "I don't want to become like that ever again."
"Ah." Libra replies in understanding. "Then this is a matter of guilt? You regret your actions taken at kidnapper's keep."
"I guess?" I muse on that a moment longer, then frown. "Actually no. That doesn't feel quite right."
"You find the death you inflicted there to be equally justifiable, then." Libra frowns.
I open my mouth to speak, then remember Libra's words earlier. I fully believe that the world is better off without Ezra and his men, but I did promise that I would be respectful while here… In the end, I settle for simply saying "They were evil people, Libra. Some of the most horrible I've ever seen."
"And so you killed them."
"I did. More than thirty people. All killed in one night."
Libra is struck speechless at the number, like so many others have been. "Yeah, there's been a lot of that going around lately." I chuckle mirthlessly.
"My apologies." Libra recollects himself. "I did not expect such a thing. Especially not after hearing of your relative inexperience in battle."
"Yeah, well it's not like I really fought all of them." I scratch idly at the scar on my head, doing my best not to meet Libra's eyes. "I think like, a third of that number didn't really see me coming. Better chance of me surviving that way."
"Is this what bothers you? The fact that you didn't fight them with honor?"
"Please, I'm not Chrom." I make a face. "I don't hold the illusion that killing is better when the opponent can see you coming."
"I see." Libra sighs. "I confess, Ben, that I am having some difficulty finding the truth of what haunts you. Perhaps it is the fact that we just met, or the fact that your circumstances are so extreme, but no matter the reason I find you to be a particularly hard one to read."
"Is that priest speak for 'get to the point'?" I smirk over at Libra.
Libra can only chuckle at that. "Perhaps it would be better interpreted as a sign of surrender? At least in regards to finding the issue which you would like me to assist you with. So I find myself inclined to ask instead: are you able to tell me what about this incident truly haunts you?"
Am I?
Well… I suppose…
"I recommend talking through it aloud." Libra says, seeing my hesitation. "Feel free to speak as frankly as you feel is necessary. I will not hold anything against you, I swear."
"Bold claim." I reply, unconvinced, remembering his earlier temper towards my opinions on bandits.
"I possess enough self-awareness that I will regard any ill will at your words as a personal failure."
"Huh. Good enough, I suppose." I sigh.
So, what is it that really bothers me about this situation? How do I get to the root of this issue? I have an inkling already, but I'm not sure going right for the throat on this issue is the way to go. I suppose the first thing to do is to separate things. Look at it rationally, divide things into their core components and assess from there. Looking at it all at once isn't going to work, there's simply too much raw emotion jumbled together.
The biggest matters first. My near death and my massive kill count. If one is to look for a matter that could lead to trauma, then those are the most likely culprits. But my near death is practically a non-factor. I hold little regard for my own life, in a lot of ways. I don't want to die, but I've never felt that my life had much to live for. That's a problem on its own, certainly, but not one that really pertains to my current situation. At least, not in regards to the consequences of that night…
Well, that's not entirely true. I do have things to live for. My family, back in Canada, no doubt wondering what the hell happened to me. My death would leave them forever lost, without closure. Severa, my new family, who looks at me as though I'm more than just a man, as though I'm the whole world, the foundation she's built herself upon. My death would ruin her. That's been made clear enough. I see little reason to live for myself, but so much cause to live for others.
Could Severa's pain be what drives this anguish? The knowledge that I am so thoroughly attached to this world, to people here? No. This isn't about Severa. The feelings that take me when I go to pick up an axe are devoid of love, even bittersweet. It's sappy, but there's no other way I can think of to put it.
I'm getting off track, clearly. This doesn't seem to be working.
"On the contrary, I'm learning a great deal from this already." Libra urges me on, smiling broadly. "Trust that even if you do not find the answers from this, I will. And even if I do not, then we can find them together."
"Faith, then?" I smirk.
"It is rather critical to my station, after all." Libra chuckles.
Alright then. It's not my near death. That's a problem, but it's not the problem. So the next thing to consider is guilt. But that's been suggested already, and it still doesn't feel right. I do not feel bad about killing Ezra, or his people. If I'm looking at this freely, without holding myself back out of a sense of propriety, then I can safely say that their deaths were something to be celebrated. They were a pack of murdering, torturing, rapist freaks. Their deaths were a good thing. A great thing even. I enjoyed removing that blight from the world…
And that's the fucking problem, isn't it?
I don't regret killing them, but the way I did it…
The way I tore my body apart, murdered while laughing, executed men begging for mercy…
I didn't do it because they needed to die. I killed them for the sake of killing them. Because I just got out of my cell and wanted to vent. First time tasting freedom in a month and I go on a killing spree. It was spite. That was all. I straight out said as much to Donnel at the time. There were valid reasons to go in there, but I didn't care about that.
What a fucked up state my mind is in. Too broken to care about killing people, but apparently doing it in an evil way is enough to turn me into a blubbering wreck.
"So." Libra's voice cuts in again, "If I'm understanding your train of thought properly, you're suffering because you view the actions you took that night as evil, when compared to the other times this has happened."
"Pretty much." I stare down at my hands. "Every other time I've killed, it's been to protect somebody, but this time… it was to feel good. I killed because I felt a sadistic pleasure in it."
"Is this the first time you've felt such a thing?"
"…Yes and no." I frown. "It's the first time I've felt it to that extent, but… I've always had a sadistic side. Same old story, you know. Grew up feeling powerless, so I hurt other people to feel more powerful. It happened a lot when I was a kid. Helped that I was a target for bullies. If I hurt them back, it would… feel more justified." I blink. "Huh."
Libra looks at me with a mixture of understanding and bemusement. "You certainly have a talent for introspection, Ben. If only all who come to receive my aid had such a proper understanding of their struggles."
"Yeah, wow. Talking it through definitely helped." I lean back and sigh. "Should have guessed as much. Not like I've never gone through this process before. Used to do it all the time back when I was learning to manage my depression."
"I see. Well, that's a good start, but it is only step one of the process." Libra says, catching my attention once more. I straighten up again, sitting at attention. "You know now that your trauma is the result of your own conflict at losing yourself to your aggressive tendencies. And furthermore, that this aggression is your way of lashing out and feeling powerful as a reaction to feeling oppressed. So, let's focus on how to proceed forward."
"Alright. What do I have to do to get back in the fight?" I nod along.
"Is that what you want?" Libra looks at me curiously.
"Huh?" I feel the sense of momentum that was just starting to build up fall away. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like, Ben. I'm asking you, before we proceed any further, whether fighting is something you want to continue doing. You said yourself that you never wanted to be a Shepherd. After the trauma you've been through, there would be no shame in seeking a more peaceful life."
A part of me is touched to be given such a choice, but a larger part is horribly indignant. I sit silently for a moment, the two emotions battling briefly, before I finally tamp all of that down and reply quietly, "My adopted daughter is in the Shepherds."
"Say no more." Libra responds immediately, easing my tension considerably. "Then, the first thing I would recommend is to focus on what drove you the other times you've been forced to take a life. If they did not affect you like this incident did, then there is a difference there that must be found. Once you find it, you can use it to drive yourself forward in the future."
"A difference, huh?" I muse on that for a moment longer.
"Do not feel the need to rush it." Libra smiles. "In fact, I would recommend you take some time and sleep on it. For what it's worth, I believe you've given a fine enough answer already."
"Huh." I try to think back, but draw a blank for now. "Well alright then. I guess I've taken up enough of your time."
"Think nothing of it. To aid a servant of the Falchion is a privilege for any follower of Naga. And to help a man in need, a greater privilege still." Libra smiles broadly, rising to his feet. "It has been a pleasure meeting you, Ben."
"Back at you, man." I get to my feet as well, and shake hands with him once more. "You've been a big help, seriously."
"I'm glad to hear it." Libra nods, before drawing his gaze aside. "Now then, if you'll excuse me, my cousin appears to have been waiting for me for a while now."
I follow his gaze, and can't help but chuckle. He's looking towards Felicity, who sits in a pew nearby. She waves cheerfully when she sees our attention directed her way. "Ah, so you're the one she wanted me to meet, then."
"Felicity did?" Libra looks to me in surprise. "Ah, so she's the friend who brought you here?"
"Yup. She found out about all… this," I gesture to myself, "last night, and dragged me here to meet somebody. I assume she meant you."
Libra smiles fondly. "In many ways, she's more devoted to helping those around her than I am. I'm proud to consider her family."
"You should be." I think back to last night, the way she threw herself at my arms in a bid to protect me from myself. "She's very strong."
Libra gives me a curious look at that, but any potential questioning is disrupted as Felicity approaches. "Hello, sir, honored priest!" She addresses myself and Libra respectively. "I'm pleased to see you two found each other." Her smile thins. "Though slightly less pleased at how long it took me to spot you, cousin."
"My apologies!" Libra laughs, "I felt the nature of Ben's concern merited some discretion. Not all can be so free in voicing their concerns as you, Felicity."
"Their loss." Felicity replies, head held high.
"Can't argue there." I nod.
"Nor can I." Libra nods along with a grin. He then turns back to me. "Now then, I'll be leaving you for now. As much as I'd like to continue a lighter conversation, you are far from the only one seeking my presence today. But if you have trouble finding the answer you're looking for…"
"You'll be the first one I come to." I reply with a smile. "Thanks for everything."
Libra hurries away after that, approaching a group of finely dressed men who reply with a whole lot of bullshit, spoken very loudly. "Merchants and noblemen." Felicity wrinkles her nose at the sight of Libra shaking hands with them. "They come more to appear pious than to look for actual spiritual guidance. But they also love to cause problems if they're not given special treatment. Libra feels it's better to just appease them and send them on their way."
"He's probably right." I grimace. "Even the church of Naga can't escape the grasping tendrils of politics."
Felicity giggles at that. "Tendrils! Oh that's wonderful." Her expression falls flat a moment later, "And all too true. Hm."
"Nothing worth getting worked up over." I shrug. "There's nothing you or I can do about it. Come on, let's go. Your cousin has given me a lot to think about."
Felicity sees me back up the hill, then heads into town to resume her day off. I'm left with a great deal from Libra to work through, and the profound impression that I owe Felicity more than I can put into words. Studies are left for the afternoon; I spend the rest of the day meditating instead.
Libra's words ring true; I find my answer quickly. The reason I fought that let me do what I needed to was obvious in the end. But I don't rush things this time. I spend the rest of the day focusing on that. Working through the mental state I need to reach, and identifying the state I need to avoid.
The next day I approach a training dummy. I bring with me a whole cart full of different weapons. It's a bit ridiculous to look at, and probably a bit ridiculous in practise, given my mental state, but I feel like having more options will be better for me at the moment.
Before I take up any of them though, I resume my meditation.
The times I fought before, the times I killed before, there were two things driving me. The first was necessity. I must fight, or I will die. This was the biggest thing keeping me going in the past. Fight because you have to. Win because you have to. Kill because you have to.
That's not going to work from here on out. Obligation leads to stress, leads to rejection. Killing for the sake of my own life is basic human instinct, but also far too close to killing for the sake of my own pleasure for my liking. I will not toe that line again. I will not kill for my own sake.
If I am to continue forward as a warrior, then I will ensure that I will drive myself in a positive direction. Fight not for myself, but for others. If I continue further down a road of bloodshed, then I will do everything in my power to become a better person as a contrast to that.
I will become a protector. A guardian. Not by coincidence, or obligation, as it has often been in the past, but by design. By desire.
So I think about those who I have saved in the past. The family in Southtown the first day I arrived here. Donnel and Maribelle, when I faced the calm man. Donnel again, atop the walls of the Longfort. Those villagers, the day I faced a Deadlord. My fellow prisoners, that fateful night. My intentions in those incidents weren't always pure, or even good. But they did save people.
That will be what drives me, going forward. I'll fight for my fellow Shepherds, trying to make the world a better place. I'll fight for the future children, locked in a hopeless war from the day they were born. I'll fight for my family, that I might someday see them again, show them that I'm still alive and still care about them. I'll fight for Severa, so that she can live happily no matter what the future brings.
I take a deep breath, and pick up a battle axe.
I immediately feel nauseous and am forced to drop it.
"Okay, too big of a step, alright, that's fine!" I gasp, leaning heavily on the cart and waiting for the world to stop spinning.
Once I'm sure I can stand up straight without falling over I take another deep breath and reach for a sword instead. This time I manage to hold the weapon properly, though my arm still trembles.
I walk towards the training dummy, bring both hands to the hilt of the blade, and steady myself. For several minutes I focus on breathing, calming my nerves and preparing to attack. My arm stops trembling. I raise the sword, and swing.
My shoulder twinges, just as I'm about to land the blow, and I flinch back at the last second. Instead of cutting deep the sword tears a shallow path through the front of the dummy, and for the briefest of moments I swear I see a flash of crimson. Then I blink, and all I see is bits of straw flying through the air.
By all accounts it's a terrible cut, barely deep enough to be an inconvenience if I were hitting a live opponent. The amount of focus I had to put myself through to even make the attack was mentally exhausting as well, causing me to feel drained already. But as I step back and observe my work, I can't help but feel proud.
"It's a start," I state with a grin. "It's a fucking start."
I take my stance again.
And there we go! I hope it doesn't feel like I'm rushing things at all here, in regards to dealing with the trauma. I'm sure in real life these things take a great deal more time. I just don't really care to have Ben skip another chapter of the story. Hell, it was never my plan to have him skip this chapter of the story! It just kinda... happened.
Which proved to be a good thing, as it gave me a perfect opportunity to bring Libra and Felicity into the story. Libra's conversation was one I knew needed to be brought into the story soon, but I was having trouble finding a good place to fit it. Felicity was born of a desire to draw more focus towards the world happening around the Shepherds. It's similar to how I've made a point to show how the Shepherds live their lives in relation to the castle guard and the Pegasus Knights.
I hope you all enjoyed this little excursion into Ben's mental state and the start of his long journey to achieving happiness. I humbly request that you all please leave a review. I'm especially anxious as to the quality of this chapter, given that I skipped a pretty important level of the game to make it happen, and that I kept you all waiting so long for it. If I'm being honest I don't think I'll ever be able to get good at responding to all the reviews I get, but boy do I love seeing them. They're great for motivating me to write, and for brightening up my day in general.
Thanks for reading, everyone!
