Chapter 5: A Day to Wake Up

A pair of eyes blinked open, staring at the wooden beams above Chris as he woke up. Slowly, he brought his hand to his face, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes until he noticed his entire face was wet. Slowly, he looked around, trying to find why that was until he stopped at the windows.

The dark courtyard outside was layered in a thin fog. The dirty browns and greens of it hazing off into a greyer tone until they hit the dulled-out, white walls of castle… Ylisstol? It probably had some kind of name, but at the time Chris couldn't think of anything specific. Or general, as last night proved.

He shook his head, trying to push the thought aside. The new large comforter felt heavy on him as he picked it up, trying to dry his face with it only for him to realize it was also damp. Not dripping, but feeling it revealed it had a light dusting of water all over it.

He looked around again, trying to find the source before realizing that he'd left the windows open. And since there was a fog…

Chris groaned, looking at the wide-open shutters again before hiding away in the slightly damp, but still warm, covers. Slowly his eyes closed again, he tried to go back to sleep, allowing his thoughts to drift back to the night before.

"Is that all?" Robin calmly asked, now resting on the nightstand behind her as Chrom stared at him, uncomfortably neutral about it all. Despite having come clean about everything, Chris still felt like he'd made a mistake.

Realizing he hadn't said anything, he quickly nodded, looking off at the uncomfortably large shadows cast by the torch Robin had lit an hour ago.

"So, to summarize," she flicked out her hand, counting, "If nothing is changed: Ylisse will face three wars, twice from Plegia, once from 'Valm', wherever that is; The Fell Dragon, who is my future self, will not only rise and attempt to end the world, but has even succeeded in doing so once before. And as well is currently somewhere as we saw her two days ago; And lastly, Exalt Emmeryn will also die, either to an assassination attempt sometime in the future you don't understand, or an execution."

She stood up again. "The only reason we know of this is because of your admission today, which while helpful is nowhere near perfect, to the point that you don't even remember who is kidnapped to start the war. And just as well the council is compromised, but again, you don't remember who exactly it is."

Chris nodded, wincing as Robin bit back a hiss and Chrom… stared at him, surprisingly neutral despite what Chris had done.

She shook her head. "And you're certain you don't remember who either of them are? You mentioned something about the hostage being a Shepherd. But do you remember nothing of the hostage?"

"I…" he thought to the game again, wishing he'd paid more attention back to it for what had to be the thousandth time at this point. "No, I know they're a Shepherd. But, I can't remember who. I'm sorry if I'd just—"

"Chris, stop," Robin interrupted, "We'll figure something out, alright. Just…" she breathed out a sigh, leaning back over the nightstand. She crossed her arms, slowly mumbling to herself about nobility and opportunities.

He shook his head again, that didn't matter. What did matter was stopping the next war to throw things off, or at least help out whoever the hostage was. Then again, the only Shepherds he could only remember were the few he used when he played the game. And the only other Shepherd he'd met this morning was—

"Maribelle."

The other two turned to him as Chris perked up. "It was Maribelle, she's the hostage."

"But Maribelle's been in the capital for weeks now," Chrom asked, "how would they get to her? It'd be possible if she were at Themis, but even then they'd need some plan to get through their defenses."

Robin shook her head, stepping forward. "It doesn't matter, for now we at least have someone who could possibly be the hostage. From there we can figure out if that is wrong or right." She breathed out a sigh. "As much as I hate the idea, we just don't know enough about the situation to do anything here."

"I don't like it, but… alright," Chrom muttered, pushing back the stool as he stood back up, "as helpful as they'd be, we cannot allow this to get to the general council if Chris' suspicions are right—gods, I sound like Frederick now. We'll need to catch up Emmeryn at the least. Maribelle as well."

"That sounds good, we'll discuss this as soon as we can tomorrow. Chris," she turned towards him, "we'll need you there to explain this. After that, I'm sure we can take it from—"

He shot up. "No—!" he yelled, only to hiss at his tone, forcing himself to calm down again. "I mean, I'll help out whenever I can. I owe you guys that much for hiding this from you."

Chrom tried to say something, closing his mouth immediately after. "Chris, we'll need to talk about that later. For now, try and find a room to make your own."

"I—" he cut himself off again, wondering if he even deserved a room at that point, but he shook off the thought. "Alright, thank you for that."

Chrom nodded before leaving the room, with Robin leaving a second later. Pausing for a second before she finally left, and leaving Chris alone in the room again.

With a sigh, he shifted off of the bed. Wincing as a dulled throb shot up from his leg, the wound from Grima still aching after an entire day of rest and whatever healing magic could do. Though he'd probably need to just deal with the pain until he found a room.

Finally standing up, his foot hit something on the floor. He awkwardly bent down, trying to avoid shifting his weight onto his leg when he realized what he'd stepped on. His staff.

He'd almost forgotten about it, but it was still there, the only thing he still had from Southtown since he'd lost his clothes… wherever they were. Probably thrown out from everything they'd been through. But holding the staff again felt right, until he remembered where he was again. And what he'd done.

He finally left the room. The door creaking one last time behind him as he limped away from the room. His staff now helping him make his way to wherever he was going.

A knock broke him out of his thoughts, making him push off the blankets over his, still wet, head. "Uh, come in."

Frederick opened the door, still wearing the same armor as he scanned the room before sighing. "I see you let the fog in."

"Oh, yeah." His eyes shot open, looking around the noticeably wet room. "Did that ruin anything? I'll clean up everything if I have to just—!"

"Chris, stop." He raised his hand, stopping him as he explained, "It will dry during the day. Simply leaving the windows open again will do more than enough. Until then, you are needed elsewhere."

He looked at Frederick, confused for a moment. "What do you—oh, right. Yeah, I'll be there in a second. Just—" he pushed the blankets off of him, wincing as he swung his legs on the floor. A slight ache ran up from his leg, but it was a little less than what he'd dealt with last night.

He pushed himself off, ignoring the light throb in his leg and back as he finished. "There. What did you need me for again?"

"Milord has asked for your presence in today's meeting, pertaining to what you discussed last night."

"Got it, and—" he paused, remembering his conversation with Frederick from yesterday, "did—did Chrom tell you about that?"

Frederick paused, looking like he was thinking about something before he answered, "No, he did not. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, then…" he trailed off, taking a deep breath, "I need to say something before we do this."

"Could we not do so on our way to the council?" he asked, eyes sending a glare at him, but a lighter one than Chris remembered it being. "I'd much prefer we get there on time than delayed."

"Oh, that probably works better." He grabbed his staff, making his way to the door. "Let's go."

The two started walking down the main hallway, Chris dodging a hole in the floorboards he'd almost slipped his foot into the last night. Everything was quiet around the barracks as he noted that nobody was in the main area. Nobody had been there last night either, but it was still strange to him.

"So…" Chris started, trying to find the right word and taking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Frederick turned to him, quirking his head as he pushed the main door open. "You're apologizing for…" he trailed off.

Noticing he'd stopped, Chris opened the door, holding it open as he explained, "Well, you know that thing yesterday. How I told you I didn't want to say anything to you."

"Yes, are you apologizing for saying nothing then?"

"No, well, that too. But there's something else. I—" he paused again. Hesitating as they made it to the castle doors. A massive pair of wooden carvings too fancy for Chris to really care about at the time. "It's about before that too."

"I see, this is about your origins then?" he suggested as he knocked on the door in front of him.

Chris nodded, jumping at the loud crack the door made when two guards opened it. Revealing the wide halls of the castle. "Yeah, but it's actually more about what I said to you, on the night watch."

Chris waited for another response, but when he didn't get one, he just kept going. "See, that thing I was hesitating on. I…" Another breath, forcing himself stead as he tried to barrel through what he'd say next. "I knew the future. But even though you guys let me join you, I just didn't say anything about it. You even asked yesterday and I just sat there and lied about it. Well, I just didn't say anything. But that's honestly just as bad. I should've just told you guys as soon as I realized it but—" his throat caught on itself, stopping him as they entered what looked like a familiar open area.

"But I didn't," he admitted, avoiding what had to be Frederick's glare as they stopped at another door. "And I'm sorry. If you want me out of the Shepherds or even jailed for what I did then I'd deserve—"

"Christopher, stop," Frederick interrupted.

"But I—" Chris finally looked up at Frederick, noticing how he… "You're not angry?"

"No, I am not angry. Though that is mainly due to milord's intervention on the matter." He knocked on the door, waiting a moment before sighing and pushing them open himself. "If I may explain, after milord informed me of the subject of your knowledge—"

"Wait, you just said you didn't know about that."

"Yes, that was a lie." He gave him a harsh look as he added, "and I would explain why I did so if you would let me finish."

He winced, answering, "Oh, right."

"Thank you." He nodded, staring down the long carpeted halls as he continued, "After his explanation, I was unsure if you could be trusted despite milord's request. Though in spite of this suspicion, I was willing to accept his own acceptance of you, if only because of your admittance last night."

Chris nodded as they made another turn. Frederick's voice had a slight echo to it as they walked through the surprisingly empty hallways. "Upon your asking what I knew of said events, I lied as a sort of—test, if you will. One I suppose you passed, in a way. Reaffirming my previous assessment of you."

"And what was that?" Chris tilted his head, watching as they got closer to a pair of fancy double doors, again.

"You are a hazard, moreso to yourself than anyone else," he stated, finally turning to Chris with an unreadable look in his eyes. "At least, until you are competent enough to avoid such a label. And due to milord's active support of your stay with the Shepherds, I will assist you in such an endeavor myself if I must."

"I—thank you!" Chris cheered, slightly confused as he asked, "But, why would you do something like that for me?"

"That exactly, this is not for you." He knocked on the door in front of them. "While I myself enjoy seeing others improve, I moreso would rather you stay alive than not. And with milord complicating these matters by allowing you to remain here, I will settle for the next best thing. As well, I'd much prefer you not endanger others with reckless actions in the future, something formal training should rectify." Having waited a moment, he pulled it open anyways.

The poorly lit room in front of them was just a little more than a table and some chairs, all of which looked smooth and finely made. The cloth on top of the table was mostly a darker blue, with a golden outlining and design shining even in the early morning light that came in from the window above them.

One or two torches sat on the walls, with a large fireplace sitting near the back of the room. A photo of somebody sat in the shade, but Chris couldn't quite make it out.

Chris perked up, turning to Frederick. "Wait, where's everyone else?"

"Yes, they'll be here shortly," he answered, placing a few nearby logs in the fireplace, "I merely need to get the room ready. That, and being early is never a bad thing, am I wrong?"

"Oh, then no, I guess not." Chris pulled a chair out, sitting down and watching the dark blue sky through the window. "But—actually, nothing. Thanks for everything you said."

Frederick nodded. "It was merely the truth. Though I suppose the truth will be a matter of discussion today as well.

"Yep, whenever everyone else gets here at least."

A repeated tap echoed through the room as a fire crackled behind him. Chris feeling its gentle warmth on his side as he bounced his leg, looking for any kind of scratch on Frederick's armor. Something he already knew he wasn't going to find, but felt like searching for anyways.

Suddenly, the door opened, pulling his eyes towards it as a few voices and footsteps came into the room. A little bit more light came in from the window above him now, but he still relied on the torches on the walls and the surprisingly large fire, both of which Frederick had made while they waited.

Chrom was the first one in, his silver-blue cape flowing down towards Robin as she yawned. Cutting it off a second later, she pushed out her coat and glanced at Chris before sitting down right next to where Chrom was, close to the end of the table.

After them, Chris noticed an unfamiliar woman. Light blue hair sat in a tight bun behind her head as her red eyes looked around the room. Making contact with Chris', she stiffened up, her golden-colored armor shifting before a voice rang out behind her. Whoever spoke it, Chris couldn't quite remember, but one that he felt calmed by anyways. The blue-haired woman—some kind of knight?—moved out of the way to reveal the source of the calming voice.

The mark of the exalt—a symbol he now felt like he couldn't forget with how much he'd seen it recently—cleanly parted the woman's golden-blonde hair into two different, loose, flowing braids. Calm, blue eyes looked around the room, a warm smile on her face as she turned and stopped at Chris for a second.

Elegant green robes flowed behind her as she got to the end of the table, sitting herself down in a practiced motion that seemed to put even Maribelle to shame from yesterday. Roman numerals numbered one through ten all lined a cloth the rested on her shoulders; while he didn't understand the meaning of it, it definitely looked nice on her. They added to the other golden outlines of her dress which seemed like they were almost polished.

Looking at her whole self, Chris realized that she was Emmeryn. Faintly remembering events from the game until she turned towards him and spoke, the same beautiful voice as calming as her eyes.

"Do you intend to look much longer?" she calmly asked, "I believe Chrom mentioned that there were important matters to address here."

Blinking, Chris quickly pushed down a stutter as a flame burned across his cheeks. "I didn't mean to stare. I just, uh… it's good to meet you, Emmer—er, Exalt Emmeryn?"

A few chuckles rang around the room as Chris shrank into the chair under him. At least until she raised her hand. "Yes, and you have been mentioned as Chris, now," she turned to Chrom, "what did you need to speak to us about, I'm certain I would be able to meet your new Shepherd at a far less pressing time."

"This is about—something else. Something we cannot say in front of the council." He turned towards Chris. "Would you care to explain it?"

Chris blinked, looking around until his eyes fell on the knight from earlier. "Are you sure about, um..." He nodded his head towards the knight. "Her, being here?"

"Yes," Chrom quirked his head, "why would—wait, you're not saying that Phila's the—"

"I mean, I don't recognize her," he said, raising his hands up, "are you sure you can trust her."

"If I may," Emmeryn said, drawing the Chrom and Chris' attention, "while I don't understand your suspicions, I trust Phila with far more than my life. Whatever this is about, she will know of it."

At that, as well as Chrom and Frederick's nodding, Chris felt a lump in his throat form. "I—alright. I guess I should just get to it."

Before he could start, the door creaked open.

"I'm dreadfully sorry for my timing," Maribelle said, walking down to take a seat. "I was busying myself with packing for an upcoming return to Themis." She sat down, noticing the looks Chris, Chrom, and Robin were giving her. "I suppose I must apologize again then, but was what I missed truly so troubling?"

"No," Robin gestured to Chris, "though it does answer a question. If you could explain it, Chris."

"Yeah, I—no." He took a breath, figuring out how he would phrase his next words as he straightened himself up. He pushed confidence into his voice again, something he realized he'd been doing a lot recently. "I will just say it now. I am not from this world. I wish I could go into that more, but the only thing I know about this is that I woke up on a roof in Southtown, and then found Chrom."

He looked down at the table, hoping to avoid the looks everyone was absolutely giving him as he barreled through.

"That is not all," he continued, "from there, I realized that Chrom looked familiar. Similar to a gam—a story I remembered, one following Chrom and Robin. From that, I realized that I know what will happen—in the future, that is."

He turned towards Emmeryn, forcing down a wince at the glare Phila was shooting at him. "You guys talked about those things we fought. Eventually, you will call them Risen. After that, the Shepherds go off to, uh, up north to get that country's help dealing with both them and the bandits from Plegia."

"And after that," his eyes shifted over to Maribelle, "Themis is attacked, and you are captured by Plegia and used as a hostage to start a war," he finished, sinking into the chair as he took in the room.

From both the wince Robin was giving him, as well as Phila's glare, he realized he might have explained it worse than he should have.

"Your Grace," Phila started, turning towards Emmeryn, "do you truly intend to believe this man's claims?"

Waiting for a moment, Emmeryn looked over to Chrom. After sharing a look of some kind he nodded, Emmeryn leaned back for a moment before straightening herself out again. "If my brother is willing to trust him, then so am I." She turned to Chris, her previous smile straightened out into what almost looked like a frown. "You intend to say that Plegia wishes for war on us?"

"I—yes. That's what I remember at least."

"Then…" she trailed off, taking a breath before she continued, "Regardless of my thoughts on that. I must assume that there's more. Chrom, you could have mentioned this to the council, yet you chose only us to disclose this to. And as well Chris' suspicions of Phila, would this be another aspect of his… foreknowledge? I believe that would be the correct word."

"Yes, he's also mentioned that a member of the council betrays us." He turned to Chris, who took a second to nod before Chrom continued, "Though unless he remembered something this morning, he doesn't know who specifically. So far, all we know is that they're not a Shepherd, and that we trust them."

Another pause filled the room, Chris' eyes on Emmeryn as she stared at Chrom, then at Frederick—who Chris realized was switching between staring at him and Chrom—and finally at Chris. Taking in another breath, she blinked, opening her eyes again, landing on Chris as she asked him, "I—am almost afraid to ask, but is there anything else? Anything at all you've yet to say?"

"Well… " Chris paused, looking over to Chrom and Robin, wondering if he should go over everything.

Shaking her head, Robin lifted her hand up slightly. "If I may, Chris, I think it'd be better if I continued from here," she said, pulling out a small notebook, "you may need to correct me if I get something wrong, but this should be faster."

"Oh no, I can keep going, just give me—" He paused, a familiar pit forming in his stomach again as he looked up at Robin. A slow realization setting in the next moment.

"She'd… she'd probably do it better, like she said."

He nodded, watching as Robin explained everything, from Grima, to Valm, to even the future. She left out herself being future Grima, but that seemed fair, to Chris, anyways. And even though he wasn't saying anything, he noticed that same pit wasn't going away.

The sound of a book clapping itself shut broke Chris out of his mind. He looked up, noticing that Emmeryn and Phila looked at Robin wide-eyed as she placed her book back into whatever pocket she had it in.

"Th-that must be everything," Emmeryn pleaded, eyes going wide for a second before a serene cough left her. "I apologize for my tone there, but this has been… quite a lot. Grima's return, an invasion by Valm, my own execution and assassination. I believe you even mentioned a time traveler among them. Then these are to be trying times for us soon enough."

"Yes, I myself am surprised." Frederick nodded, reminding Chris that he was still in the room as he answered. "While I knew somewhat of Chris' knowledge before this meeting, to think that all of this was not only possible, but soon to happen, it seems absurd. Though if we are to believe these claims as fact then we must prepare for them."

Phila turned to Emmeryn, receiving a nod before turning back to Frederick and Chrom. "Understood, if so then you have the full support of the pegasus knights, though that was a given. Milady, what shall you have us do."

"I—Christopher," she turned to him, sitting straight and firm as her eyes focused, "you still intend to say that Plegia is responsible for this, yes?"

He nodded. "It's probably the only thing I know for sure, the leader there wanted the war for… I think I remember Grima manipulating him or something. But I do know that he takes a hostage—er, Maribelle—to start the war." He thought back, trying to remember anything else about the scene. When nothing came up he shook his head. "That's it, really. I'm sorry, I just can't remember—"

"It is fine," Emmeryn said, tapping her finger on her hand before she turned, "Then if we are to assume this, Phila, would you be capable of stationing the pegasus knights there."

"Yes, your grace. At my command, we will root out their forces before they can possibly form."

"No, you will be ready to defend the people, but only that," she said, her voice firm as she turned to Chrom, "how soon can you send out the Shepherds, Chrom?"

Chrom perked up at the sudden request, answering, "They'll be ready as soon as we'd need, why?"

"While I'd normally go there myself, Robin mentioned that Ferox would be a willing ally. As such, as soon as we can convince the council of this. I'd like you to take your Shepherds up there to secure an alliance."

"Right—gods, I hadn't even thought of how we'd convince the council of this." He eyed Chris for a moment, looking back to Emmeryn. "The fact that we can't tell them any of this isn't going to go well for us. It'd be easier if we were to act on our own."

A calming chuckle rang out from Emmeryn. "Yes, though they don't appreciate when I do such a thing." Her smile dropped. "And while these accusations are… unsettling, I've no doubt that most of the council are still supportive of us. Though I've no doubt as to their reasoning why, there is no reason not to use such a thing to our advantage here."

"I'm well aware, though as soon as you can we'll be ready to move out," Chrom stated, looking around the room to multiple nods, Chris' coming the latest. "Though I'm not certain I'll be the best for this, diplomacy was never my strong suit. Oh, speaking of which! Maribelle, will you be coming with us?"

Chris turned back over to her, noticing her jump out of her seat. "I must apologize, I… most likely will be. While I'd wish to return to run Themis in these times, I do believe he'll change such a decision once I inform him of these matters."

"I'd advise against that, actually," Robin said, everyone's eyes snapping over to her, "If we aren't trusting the council, whoever they are, with this. Then wouldn't it be better to keep this knowledge only to those we trust?"

The room was silent for another moment, as if a pin dropping would've set the room off if anything changed. At least, until Maribelle slowly responded, "Are—are you insinuating that my father could be a traitor?"

"Not entirely. I'm saying we need to be cautious about whoever knows this." She placed her hands on the table, fingers crossed between each other. "We don't know who we can trust right now, and that includes anyone outside of the Shepherds, even your fath—"

"Though you're still entertaining the possibility, yes?" she asked, Robin's hands tightening as her voice rose. "The nerve of—My father and family have served the royal family for generations, almost since the start of the halidom! I'll not have some baseborn woman found less than two days ago insulting my family!"

"I…" Robin slowly loosened her hands before she continued, "I didn't mean to say that your family was responsible, it's just safer if they don't know about it."

"No, you did not, but did you not imply that they could be? That my family has the capacity to do such a thing? Why else would you doubt them!"

"I'm not trying to disrespect whatever family you have, but you haven't seen Grima! You don't know what she's capable of! We need every advantage available to us, and if that means ensuring that whoever this traitor is cannot help her then that's what we need to do!"

"That's enough!" Chrom yelled, stopping the two in their tracks. He paused for another moment before turning to Maribelle. "Maribelle, tell your father whatever you feel you need to. I wouldn't normally say this of someone on the council, but he's a man I know we can trust."

He turned to Robin, her hands now open and eyes staring back at him in what Chris could see as disbelief. "Robin, you've already voiced your concerns about this on the way here, but there are people here we can trust. I trust Hierarch Themis, and that's final."

"I—fine," Robin ended, looking around the table one last time before sighing, "Alright, but we need to make sure this doesn't get out any further than that. We cannot risk this information getting out to Grima or Plegia."

Emmeryn raised her hand, silencing everyone as she looked around the table. "If such is the case, I see no reason to stay here any longer. I will convince the council to allow your trip to Ferox," she turned to Chrom again, "in the meantime, your Shepherds will ready themselves for the coming trip. I'm… not entirely certain what they would accept there, however, I do believe you and your Shepherds are capable of the challenge."

"Now then," she eyed the room one more time, "is there anything else that needs to be mentioned? Something we've missed so far? If not, then I suppose we have our tasks ahead of us."

She stood up, Phila close behind her as she left the room. Maribelle followed a little behind her, shooting a glare at Robin as she did so. Slowly, everyone else stood up to leave, Frederick and Robin following behind Chrom right before a thought came to Chris. He shot out of his chair, limping a step before he tapped Chrom on the shoulder with his staff, something he forgot he'd still had for a moment.

"Chris? Is there something you need?"

"Um, you guys have a library here, right?"

He nodded. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking that I might remember a thing or two if I try reading into stuff like that. And, well…" he scratched the back of his head, noticing Robin glance at him as she paused in the doorway, "I was kinda curious about, well, reading some stuff here. You guys probably have some interesting history here and, well, I've always liked that kind of thing and—"

"Chris, it's fine," Chrom said, smiling at him, "though you'll need permission in there. I'm sure I can get it to you soon enough after this meeting, the same as Robin, actually. Until then though… I'm not sure what else you can do."

"Oh, thank you! I'll try and find something to do while you're doing that."

"That'd be fine, though for now I'll have to go. I have a meeting and a personal talk to get to. I suppose we'll see each other sometime later, Chris," he said, walking out the door and as Frederick waited outside it. Chris followed shortly after, thanking Frederick again for holding the door open as he made his way back to the barracks. Thinking to himself about what exactly he'd do while he was waiting.

Light footsteps echoed through the barrack's halls until Chris found the door he'd been looking for, a relieved sigh leaving him as he did. Even though Stahl had given him directions to the place, he still felt like he'd somehow manage to miss the room. Though the hanging sign with a picture of a bath would've helped as he opened the door.

A loud creak unsettled him as he slowly limped inside. The small, wooden room feeling weird to him; different than what he was used to. He quickly thought of the bathroom at his home for a moment before letting the scene in front of him take over instead.

A small, stone bath sat across the same tile floors he was used to in the Barracks, a fireplace nearby with a large pot sitting on the ground next to some firewood. He quickly considered taking a bath, but realized that getting water for it was going to be harder than the bath was probably worth. It wasn't like he had clean clothes to change into anyways.

At that thought, he finally looked over to why he was there in the first place. A pottery bowl of water sat on top of a wooden table, with a mirror on the wall behind it. Limping another step forward into the surprisingly well-lit room—the windows left wide open to do that—he looked at his reflection, specifically, his cheek.

"Yep, right there. Guess I got that on the way back here when I tripped," he mumbled. "At least Stahl noticed it before I made a joke out of myself, like I did in the—" He shook off the thought, the meeting was over now anyways, it didn't matter.

Dipping his hands in the cool water, he slowly rubbed out the dirt stain. Making sure to get rid of it completely as he pushed into it—harder than he really needed, but it didn't matter as long as the smudge got off.

Finishing, he flicked his hands, rubbing them off on his shirt before he took a step back. Slowly taking in what he looked like.

Brown, muffed hair fell down from his head, kept short thanks to the haircut he'd gotten a few days before having woken up on that rooftop. Despite that, he still didn't like it, mainly from the light shine of grease it had on it from days without a shower. He quickly glanced at the bath next to him again and realized that it wasn't likely he'd be having one anytime soon.

Shaking that kind of thought off for what felt like the hundredth time, grass-green eyes stared back at him. A little duller than what he remembered they'd looked like before, but that might've just been the light. He could at least make out the tiny scar between them, placed right next to the back of his nose and against the eye, it was something he always checked for; not for any reason, it was just something he was used to doing.

A second later he remembered that it wasn't alone on his body anymore. He leaned his shoulder forward a bit, noticing the weird color skin of his scab as it healed. Maribelle's words from yesterday reminding him that the mark was going to stay there for years, something he realized he cared about more than he liked.

He didn't check the other ones, he didn't really feel like looking them over anyways.

An itch on his arm forced his eyes down to the rough clothes of his shirt as it rubbed against his wrist, finally noticing its complete contrast to his pale hand. He pinched it, picking it up and looking at the mirror in front of him; a grimace forming on his face from how it looked on him. All of the shirt's edges, from the bottom to his sleeves, were hanging lower than he liked. He quickly tried tucking in the bottom, only to pull it back out as he realized it just made him look even worse with it like that.

The black, even rougher pants were the same, this time only a little too long. Even though he'd barely noticed it with how slow he was walking before, it still just didn't feel right on him. Every part of his outfit felt like it was too big for him, it just didn't fit.

He let out a sigh and turned away, marching over to the door he'd forgotten to close before pausing. Quickly, he glanced at his shoulder again and realized that the bandage that should've been there—either the newer one or the one Robin and him had made back at the fort—was gone.

The thought on his newer bandage was completely thrown out as he tried to remember when he'd taken it off, or his other clothes for that matter.

Quickly, he closed the door as he left the bathroom behind. Steps steady as he moved, with the pain in his leg ignored for a time as he raced off.

Yep, it's a short one, and possibly a bad one due to certain aspects of my writing, feel free to tell me why that is if you'd like in a review. They usually don't actually help my motivation, but they do help with making the writing better, which is good.

And if you'd like to tell me in person what those specific critiques and/or rants directed at me are, I can be found on the Fanfiction Treehouse server (Discord code: 9XG3U7a) where I am almost all the time. Classes may change that, but I talk a lot on discord, so do with that what you will.

Anywhoozer, I'd like to thank Sushion (aka Bunni) once again for her incredible help with this chapter, as well as all the others. I do believe here is where I started to find my true writing style, something I couldn't have done without her, which is nice.

As you might have also picked up with paragraph two of this AN, my writing may take a hit now that classes are starting, but I do hope it doesn't. Regardless, I've also been taking a short break from writing that I'm hoping should be ending soon. You'll all see that in like, a few months if anything because of my backlog, but it's still there.

If you'd like a fic to read during that time, one with relation to me, then I'll take this time to plug A Wyvern's Tale by Stormtide Leviathan. A criminally underread fic starring a grumpy Russian learning not to be grumpy. Great stuff, and most of the more recent chapters have been beta-read by me! So go off and take a look at that one in the meantime between now and next upload, until then, happy reading!