"One hundred coins. Two hundred coins… one thousand coins… two thousand coins. Could be better."
This is today's report. I never thought the city of Granada would be so hard to sell spices. Nobility tends to love them and this forsaken place is on the way to both capitals, but the only person who decided to buy this was the lord of the place. No one else even wanted a single nutmeg!
I overestimated this city. Ugh. Why would I expect a city on the border to have people buying stuff?... it is supposed to be the contrary, isn't it? The entire fair is filled with Artisan and not a sign of competition in sight. Such a lovely state of affairs wasted! It would be so profitable but not in the way I wanted! Right now I could be in a place with more successful endeavors and not wasting my breath right now! What a disappointment!
I start picking up all the merchandise in the crates and return them to my little carriage towards the next location, town, castle, or whatever the tide of money tells me to. After all, the sun is still shining on the soil. I hope I have one more customer today so that it isn't such a waste. If not, bye-bye Granada.
The gentle wind caresses me, the entire fair looking emptier every minute I stand on this land. In the beginning, there wasn't even a crowd of ten people surrounding the artisans. To even have wished to have more people come in is such a foolish wish, that I am lucky the Emir of this place even came here and bought my stuff.
At least staying here is a breeze compared to the deserts deeper into the land of the cultist. Sand can't invade my boot and I don't need to drink water every single little minute. The sad thing is that the place serving as the cultist's capital was way livelier than this backward location could ever be. I got 20 thousand gold in one hour, one sole hour. Truly, a city of dreams!
I respect caravans, they get their stuff together and gain a lot of money by walking on such harsh terrain. I can't fathom someone getting a lot of money by selling stuff to cities in the middle of the desert, but it seems to be as profitable as Patriarch's state back in the splendorous city of Genezia! Not by much, but the profit is still there. Still, I hate having to be submissive to a bunch of militarists who think money doesn't compare to their little dead dragon.
I put the final crate where it needed to be and went back to the track, the little carriage having two horses pulling it, and started my journey to the other side of the border. The terrain wasn't as bad as the big desert inside Plegia's land, I didn't even need to use camels, and any plantations is way better than seeing sand every single moment of the day, even if it is only some bushes.
Still, it can't beat the navy blue sea, the way a ship can hold absurd amounts of items, move way faster than one thousand horses combined, and the sailing winds and the fresh smell of ports always get me. Why did the Patriarch give me the mission to sell the merch on land? I am the man of the sea, not of the land, Naga Dammnit!
"Oh, Enrico, the Dandolos must expand their horizons and move beyond their sea! The profits don't lie and our family can be as rich as the time when Rievernari was the Doge!" I shouldn't have been convinced by such stupid words! I thought I was way smarter than that, but I guess every man can be fooled by the ambitions of stupid Patriarch and stupid young me's naivety!
It has been one year and I can't wait to go back to my ships and get to the Valmese continent. They say the Cho'sinese Kingdom has people willing to pay a lot for the rare stuff. I hope that weird Emperor doesn't destroy the place or invade Genezia while his conquest happens. To bootlick cultists is one thing, but having to suck up to foreigners from another continent is the most supreme humiliation. But with being the crown jewel of maritime commerce such things are bound to happen. At least the Empire doesn't have an advanced navy, or so the rumors say.
I keep looking at the road, people passing by and greeting them with "May Grima and Naga bless you." What a weird land. How people can even worship Grima is beyond me, since because of him they were thrown to war with the neighbor. They can't see it is better to just not worship him, and somehow they equate him with Naga! At least in their whole stupid Ylisseans war, the Plegians didn't bring their destruction to our little island. Anyhow, I can't wait to go back to my land and see more sensible people.
Anyway, let's see if until Themis things look a little bit better. I will see if my father's tale about Ylissean nobles loving Nutmeg is true or a pure invention to make me waste more of my precious time. But If I don't have to talk in Plegian, it's already way better for me, and they say that some people speak the same language as mine. If that is the case, even better, I don't need to be learning another language.
As for Marth's descendants, may Naga bless their souls, for I don't have any more work to do than the typical business with them! Unless some pesky Anna lives there. By Naga's will, how they came from belonging to our little island to covering every single facet of the world is beyond me. But if someone from one of their families is already there, then I will cut my losses. After all, it will be more beneficial in the long run if I deal with that redhead dastard on my equation sooner rather than later.
Two soldiers stand before me before I can enter the yellowish hills and mountains towards Ylisse.
"Wait, merchant!" one of them stops the horses.
"Yes, what is the problem?" How annoying. Hope a bribe can buy my way towards success.
"Sorry, we are soldiers from the Emir, and we brought a message directly from him."
Great, I barely got out of this spot and I got attention from the ruler of this place! What could I have possibly done wrong to have soldiers come to visit this humble merchant?!
"We heard rumors that Ylisse is getting attacked by bandits more and more. So for your actions of humbling giving spice to him, he has implored us to give you some help, and as such we are going to protect you until you finally reach Ylisse. And after that, you will hire a mercenary."
Oh, great! Now I have to contend with two plegians in my carriage made for two people! At least I won't pay anything for their protection, but as much I don't want to hire mercenaries to help me on my journey, I will have to buy the cheapest one. To lose a little bit of money doesn't compare to the trouble of being robbed by bandits or trying to shut these two's mouths. I already had to deal with that problem wandering in the desert, and I would rather not have to deal with this mess again. Why pay money for something that isn't going to happen?
"You can come in. The only problem is one of you two has to stay outside. There isn't any space for three people on this humble carriage of mine." The two guards stare at each other, and then one of them comes at the front and the other at the back. The armor demonstrates they aren't some kind of bandits, thank Naga! The last thing I want is to have my spices stolen or thrown away in some random river.
And so it is for the afternoon. A pleasant stroll to the border of Ylisse. Ylisseans and Plegians speaking with each other like it's the norm rather than the exception. No trouble comes to me. Neither of the guards does anything out of the ordinary at any moment. Just the trotting of the horse passing on the soil. It isn't so bad after all.
Then the mountains come. A strange vulture comes off of the rocky formations, watching us at every single step as the pass becomes narrower by the minute. At every single side, pointy stones stare back at us. Heads of bandits stare down at the humble carriage. Sweat glistens on my face while they just look at us and follow us. Why does bad luck always strike me!?
"Charge!" A scream announces the incoming attack.
Out of the mountains come the bandits, running through the silver as their attack comes. Arrows come out of the sky.
"Ambush!" The soldiers prepare the formation to protect me.
Some of them jump in, invading the small space. The soldier perforates the bandits' throats, blood gushing everywhere and painting a little bit of my face, which I immediately flinch at. I intensify the pace of the horses' trotting. Sweat comes off of them as their breathing becomes as irregular as mine until we find a light at the end of the tunnel and the mountain pass is no more.
I breathe out a gush of air as I realize I survived somehow. I will hire a mercenary, even if it is the cheapest one. I don't care anymore after this. I may love my spice and my coins, but I need to be alive to even be capable of selling them.
"Are you alright, merchant?" The guards ask me, a little bit of worry in their voices, not realizing at this moment their robes soaked in blood shock me as much as the thief attacking my carriage.
"Yes, totally fine!"
They look at each other.
"We are sticking with you until we find a city."
"Of course."
And so we continue your journey towards the fabulous city of Themis. The mountains and hills slowly subsidize, turning into a more greenish pasture with grass and farmlands, with the sun setting and the night approaches. Then we go to the walled city and the two guards say goodbye to me.
"This is Themis, know we aren't going back. Don't forget to hire mercenaries."
You aren't my mother, guards! I know very well and I am going to follow your advice moving forward.
"I will follow that advice. And thank you for your help. I would be dead if I had gone alone. May Naga be with you."
"May Grima and Naga be with you" The two guards get out of my carriage and start trekking back to their land. Going back in the middle of the night while bandits roam isn't the smartest option, but they aren't my problem anymore. I will never get used to these people. Might as well settle down for the day. I go to the town and search for a tavern or something close to that.
I enter the tavern, full of the typical people drinking themselves some ale and beer. The loud conversations flowing through the air and, of course, some mercenaries looking for some pay. I already have meals with me and I prefer to drink wine rather than wheat piss. I look around for someone to hire, my hand already with the coins necessary as I go to where the mercenary reunite.
"How much are you willing to pay, sir?" says one of them. I ignore him as he tries to banter with me to get some more money from me. Being in Genezian Clothes does.
Then I find a tallish red-haired man in his thirties just staring at me, with a sword resting on his shoulder.
"You are looking for a Mercenary?" His accent is striking with some funny intonations.
"Yes, I am willing to pay you some coins."
"How much?"
"Ten coins." Absurdly cheap he will not accept…
"Gregor accepts."
What?
"Well, then you are coming with me."
So his name is Gregor. Good to know, but I never thought that someone would put his own name as the subject.
We get out of the tavern, go to my carriage, and then move outside the walls, but not too far from the perimeter. I will not rent an inn. Too expensive for my taste. I prepare a little camp and make a fire pit and start cooking some food along. Gregor just looks at me.
I guess things will be better for tomorrow. I wasn't able to reverse from this day, what a shame. The forest in the background gives me the creeps already. Thank Naga the mercenary is with me. A little soup of onion is what I make for the night. Nothing good compared to the good Genezia, but it's the best to maintain my pockets full. I offer him some.
"It good, it been a long time since Gregor got some good meal!"
"I never thought someone would be fond of a simple onion soup, but there is a first for anything."
He laughs whole-heartedly at my statement. Wherever he comes from, I guess I will not be in danger.
Once I've eaten the soup, I return to the carriage and prepare to sleep. I pick a small mattress and a blanket for Gregor. I gaze at the cloth panel serving as the ceiling of this carriage. All in all, it could be way worse. I am still getting some profit from all this, and that I can't say about some of my friends. Better to be gaining money in the middle of nowhere than to be drowned in debt in paradise. Whatever it may bring, this place shows some potential. Wherever the tide of coin shows me off, there is only one thing I know for certain. Money must flow.
"Uthman, It has been a long time since I've last met you!" I look at the man. How long it's been. From heirs to rulers in our own right, the little priest and the little spymaster passing their time in the dunes and culls. How nostalgic.
"I can say the same about you! How has being Emir been treating you?" Despite all this time, it feels like yesterday we were only children. Him being an emir still hasn't registered in my mind. Still jovial as ever, though.
"What can I say? It's been mostly peaceful, besides some troublemakers, of course."
"Of Course! Troublemakers are all just a pain to stop and clean their messes afterward." Especially some rats in the capitals"
"That reminds me, do you have any good liquor?" What would be an old friend's reunion without the taste of alcohol?
"I would be a bad host if I didn't have any!" Both of us laugh. The man hasnìt changed at all for these past 20 years, Thank Grima!
"Let's enter. I wouldn't leave my dearest friends drinking in the middle of the palace." He looks around and guides me to the innermost part of the old Hashemitain Palace. It didn't change one detail from when I last set foot into this palace. The old marble encrusted with silver and stairs leading to infinity, this place really didn't change at all.
"It seems even in bad years your splendor continues as marvelously as before the tragedy." Whoever had forgotten Jibril's brother, the king who took power after The Ylissean had destroyed Plegia, the one who would bring real change to this kingdom! What a shame he didn't live enough to make real change.
"I wouldn't say such high words about this sorry place, my friend."
What a shame for his inferiority complex. Can't he see that he still has political leverage and money?
"Even if it glimpses, your glory stands way higher than the likes of my clan." Who cares about the backward state of my clan, whose poets don't sing of and whose glory is eclipsed by others?
"Such stupids words, you don't need to diminish yourself when enemies run amok everywhere and crawl when they are not asked." He looks around and leads us to a lower part, a secret guest room, where even the most tenacious thief can't penetrate. We sit in a tapestry room, the bottle of liquors and two cups beside, and the letters. He closes the door, making sure we're alone.
"Let us sit. You must no doubt be tired." We sit and get to our affairs.
"Gangrel is moving. My spy in the capital told me that the army is making rather strange moves, recruiting new soldiers every day, drilling from the beginning of the day to the end of the sunset" If that is truly the case that means something foul is happening. Could it be the messianic sect wanting war, even after they lost 20 years ago?
"Jibril, do you have any more details about such a fact?" Such a stupid move could not possibly have gone unnoticed. Or have the Ylisseans grown soft over the years?
"Sadly, Uthman, Gangrel's dealings are as mysterious as they are crazy. The veil of the Messianic sect protects him every moment. Damn Validar and his larvae are a bunch of flies getting back into power! First, it was the announcement of this 'vessel', and now these weird movements... why can't they accept they are wrong and die for once?!"
He and his emotions can be a real problem. Still, it would be foul to let them always get back to power somehow. If we are to win, we have to destroy their capabilities of ever returning.
"Jibril, don't enter such an emotional state. We might fight a new and more unpredictable Helid, but there is always a way to enter the heart of our enemies and eliminate them from the inside and avoid the unnecessary bloodshed of years ago." Validar might be a way more dangerous foe, but even the biggest man can fall.
"Uthman, you continue to be as logical as ever. The Ylissean may have killed my father, but they were doing us a favor by eliminating the sect. How glorious would it have been the reign of my brother and the leadership of the Orthodox for a new future after the war!"
"It would no doubt have been glorious, but look at the other side: you are the leader of the Orthodox! We are the most popular of the three, and most theologians tell our truths." Sometimes he doesn't understand that he has the power. We could even make an uprising, but that would be way too suicidal since we don't have power over the majority of people.
"What does size matter when you have no one close to the powerful grasp of the king! This Gangrel is only a puppet, but a competent puppet at that! If only we had someone close to the Messianic, maybe this brutality could be avoided!" Jibril takes a swig of the alcohol, the anger in his face barely contained as he almost punches the table.
"Jibril, think. There are voices of dissent everywhere, you just need to find them. Do you seriously think that every man and woman under the thumb of the cult is necessarily allied with them? Of course not, we only need to have a perfect agent for the task."
"What would this ideal agent be like then, Uthman?".
"I'm so glad you asked. First of all, he shouldn't have any affiliations with us, and he should be someone already close to any of the cultist clans, someone as low as a servant is already good enough. Also, he should be suspected by all, so that should anything of our plot be discovered, he would be a scapegoat and we would escape unscathed from such a fallout, and any information coming to him is already valuable. The only thing we have to do is to find such a person in the court." It will be hard, but not impossible.
"I will dispatch the order for the spy! You had better be right Uthman. Otherwise, Plegia is doomed."
"Don't worry my dear friend! I have planned everything."
"Everything but a spy. " No need to be so caustic, we are in the same boat after all.
"A man must know the way to improvise and adapt once the situation doesn't go his way. Just like a musician must play the instrument where the notes lead them. Everything will go according to plan."
He scoffs.
"I hope you're right. May Grima listen to our pleas! Speaking of Grima, It seems that it's prayer time right now. Would you like to accompany your old friend into this endeavor?"
"More than anything" We got ourselves out from the incarcerating room to his personal chapel where his solemn prayer began. We bow to the words of Grima etched into the wall.
"Oh fallen star, the one we hold dear"
"Into our life, The sun you gave us"
"The nature holding his children"
"The force of which binds us"
"Our holy guide against the Know"
"The eternal journey towards piety"
"To The sole one"
"To all eternal"
"To all-encompassing"
"Agrima"
May Grima lay the strength for us.
The sky burned to ashes, everything surrounding me catching fire, the flames consuming the flesh of my little brother.
"No, please don't leave me! They already killed Dad, please don't leave me alone!" On his dying breath, he said no words, it smelled like meat. The world is consumed by smoke.
The purple mark in the ceiling says good morning to me. Tsk, I had this dream again. The times of being a street urchin and robbing anything to just eat weren't fun at all, so why do they keep reoccurring? Oh yeah, of course, how could I forget. People don't forget the damage done to them.
I get up from my bed. My bed. Huh, how funny! Going from orphan street robber to the king of this kingdom. Going from sleeping on the coarse sand to the finest silk in the entire kingdom! Whoever thought, Gangrel the thief of breadcrumbs, the one who ate ash to survive, would become the king who eats every day the food that not even my brother could even dream! But this isn't the reason I am here, nor why I keep dreaming about the past.
A knock on my door. Assholes, they are interrupting my daydreaming!
I slam the door open. A man that looks no more than his thirties looks from the other side, terrified.
"Sorry, Holy King. I came here to announce that your meal is ready."
Of course, I have my meal to eat at the so-called banquet, why do I feel like I am forgetting something?
"Consider yourself dismissed!"
I wonder what will be for today? Something tasty or even good, or is it all just appearances? I go toward the dining hall, any single drop of energy is already going to be useful. What greets me on the other side are my minister and the meal already being served in front of me.
I ignore them, as usual, and sit on the chair. In front of me, there are the whitest of bread with the most fermented of yogurt and the most varied chops of lamb! Truly, a meal fitting of a king. Sadly, before I can eat anything, the annoying ministers keep eyeing me, waiting for my words just like dogs waiting for their owner to bark their words. Couldn't they be a little bit less annoying and allow me to have a meal in peace?!
I eat and eat and eat. It is supposed to be more pleasurable than being a random urchin in the middle of the street, but I can't taste the food of the nobles, only the dreams of it, a sickening reminder of what I am supposed to be doing.
I eat the lamb that tastes like rocks, the wine that tastes like sand, and the mud-like yogurt. I still have a goal to accomplish. I finish the meal and ignore the pleas of the ministers. They can talk to me wherever they want, but before that can happen I have something way more important than the matter of greedy merchants and holy words of insufferable fools I listen to every day. I call it the most important one.
"Mustafa," He looks at me directly in the eyes, a little bit hesitant about what comes next.
"Yes, my king."
"Come with me. You and I have some important matters to discuss, right now!"
"Yes, my king."
What a good dog.
I get out of the snobbish showing room and leave the others hanging. They can do whatever they want for all I care. The matters are as unimportant as how the baker can make a loaf of bread or how a priest can pray for their god. There is always something way more important than their life.
I and the general arrive at my throne, empty with not a single sign of someone in sight or having been there beforehand, thankfully. I would hate for some annoying pest to come here and listen to my business. What I say is secret and only a few are allowed to know.
"What is the report of the army? Have we gained any new recruits? Do they have enough supplies?"
The bald man looks at me with a regretful look in his eyes.
"Sir, after your conscription efforts, the numbers have grown quite high. I estimate we enlist over one hundred new soldiers every day. But despite the increase in our supplies, there aren't enough weapons or food for them."
How dare the army not have enough supplies!
Also, not enough men! The rascal is right in front of me and he doesn't understand what is at play right here. If there aren't enough funds, the minister of finances won't mind in the slightest if I make some changes in the budget.
"Good enough for today, but by tomorrow have at least two hundred men! And I want to check the army now! Bring them to me!"
"Yes sir." and the coward gets out of the room as fast as possible. What a pansy, but at least he is a good general.
What a dull day like many others, with the stupid memorabilia of the messianic sect gazing down at me. They got their little puppet king, and I got the kingdom instead. A fair deal as far I am concerned. They may watch my every step, but they don't know what I think. My mind is exclusive to me, not even the annoying littlest clansmen of theirs can invade it. They don't bow to me, and I don't care, it's easier to control them that way when they don't understand they need me. Both the messianic and every single man of Plegia itself!
A knock comes on the door.
"Come in!"
Through the door comes the man with the golden robes. The minister of finances. How useful.
"Well sir, we have some excellent news-"
"Then what would you be!?" How annoying, I don't care how many coins fall down in his pocket or in the royal chamber, just say that I have enough money to gain back the army. After all, they are the most important aspect of this whole thing.
"Money flows in our land, just this past month we have recorded taxes-"
"Enough is enough, I already got that! Do whatever is necessary, just put more in the army! I think I made this clear enough! Just make this kingdom work!"
The man lowered his face and sank down. How annoying. These merchants believe money turns the world around. "Yes, sir!" and he got out.
Affairs of the kingdom, ugh. How annoying! I have to deal with this every single day. They may call me a puppet, but they take an awful lot of reports to me. I don't care at all either way. In fact, it's better this way. Being the puppet makes things a lot easier, even if it is annoying.
The messianic needed a king for power, something easy to control. They found a man in the street and declared him the king and a "chosen holy one". What a bunch of bullshit. They needed something to be controlled, and they got what they "wanted". That doesn't mean that annoying wench doesn't keep trying to sweet talk me, talking about the naga.
Here comes the standoffish lady with the clothes of a whore. How many times have I told them that I don't want to have a wife? And the message still didn't come across. She walks around trying to seduce me, trying to show off her body. Do they think I would be seduced by sex as a way to buy me off? I already got everything I wanted, this is way more irritating than dealing with the nobles. Couldn't they show up instead?
"Gangrel" She purrs at me, trying to show her bust and blush. How does she think this will work with anyone? Why does she keep trying the same tactics? Does she thinks she will catch me and make me subservient to the priests? Do they not get that I don't care about it at all about having a consort? Anyways I stand unimpressed, I just keeping eyes on her.
"Stop, Just give me the report. Are the bandits doing the jobs as requested?"
She ditches the seductress act and states the report: "The bandits have managed to do some damage around the frontier. The Ylisseans seem to be having some trouble killing them."
What a wonderful report! Just another little step towards the goal! I can taste the end of the Ylisseans, cowering in fear, their houses burning down to ash, entire families being beheaded in front of their children, dying and to never exist again! What a glorious future!
"Keep the good work, expand it more, and pay more bandits! The Ylisseans need to be distracted!"
"Understood. Also, a very important matter. It seems some people don't exactly like you.''
What a "surprise". I knew from the very first moment that I am hated. Why does she keep stating the obvious?
"Be careful, there are still people conspiring to retire you from power."
I'll deal with them just like I deal with the court. They won't be able to organize if I keep the toe in check. The other clans can fight themselves for all I care, but if they try to get me out of power, I shall make that bastard Ylissean king look like a newbie compared to me!
"Noted. Now get out," I state coldly.
"Yes, my king," she says with a poisonous tone before getting out of the room. At least she is a good advisor. Validar is somewhat useful with his grubby fingers everywhere.
Then comes Mustafa out of nowhere "Sorry, sir, but I couldn't bring the army here through the hall. You will have to follow me to the camps to do that."
"Whatever, just do it and show me what they are capable of."
We leave the room and go to the camp in the middle of the sand dunes, the soldier being drilled. The commanders barking at some stupid soldiers slacking off duty and issuing a new command.
"Reunite all! Our King has shown himself!"
All stop from what they are doing and get into a line formation, every one motionless as rock or what looks like.
"You can check them, you will see the most capable men to fighting the enemy." The bald man says.
"Is that really what I will see?" I ask him and go through the soldiers one by one. Some hold fear within their eyes, trying not to cower before me. This won't be enough. They are a bunch of weak-willed men incapable of doing my binding. They are unworthy, but they are going to be good cannon fodder for what comes next.
Some remain indifferent with me, some show respect, and others show their disgust towards me, but they aren't a bunch of pansies. They will be good for when the battle comes, they are at least going to survive until we reach Ylisstol and deal the finishing blow.
The last type is the best one. Their eyes burn with revenge, the same as me. Hidden fury towards the Ylisseans, their instinct telling them to go wild and destroy them. They will truly do my bidding, worth it to both Ylisse and to hell, make them taste what I suffered years ago.
I go back to Mustafa, The feroxi among the plegians, a general capable of crushing them and not allowing the rest to survive.
"Good work Mustafa. Some serious good work right here!"
"Thank you, sir. I thought they wouldn't come off from your mouth." I am very kind to people when they do their work properly but…
"Doesn't mean your work is done. In fact, it is only the beginning. Keep drilling them. What I want to see is their fury."
"Fury for what enemy?" Such a man could easily overthrow me. Sadly or happily he is too gullible to save the kingdom. He is just another kind man.
"You will see."
Then I return to my throne. it feels as empty as ever. Who needs a friend? They are only a hindrance. The shadows are the best, they don't truly tell a man's intention, only hide it from the world. Just another little stupid puppet from Validar, allowing him to do what, please. Lies, a bunch of lies.
Even Validar doesn't know me. He might want to exterminate Ylisse, just like me, but he doesn't know the true reality about his situation and about me. His only protection is the Messianic sect. Take that away from him and you have a man destined to fail. The forms of the throne room shape and contour of the eye of Grima watching me at every step. I don't care either way.
All the Clans, all the people be damned. They will die if they keep my dream from coming true. The Orthodox can dig up their cove for all I care, with the sacredness of the sculpture. The Dualist with their stupid Naga and Grima can sacrifice between their two gods and the Messianic can sacrifice themselves along their imaginary Vessel. All of them can go to hell for all I care.
If Plegia must burn for Ylisse to be destroyed, then so shall be it. If the whole population must die for it, it shall be done. If the entire world must die for this to happen then it will happen! The only thing that matters is their corpses.
Well, that was chapter 9. I hope this chapter was better than the last one. Special thanks to Cavik for beta reading this chapter, and everyone for reading this fic! Reviews are greatly appreciated.
I also participate in a discord server. If you want to talk with me and other people, here is the link: discord .gg/9XG3U7a
VGBlackwinng: It can happen or not, it's up to the story to decide. Also, I'm glad that you love this fic!