Author's Note: This is either going to be very short or very long.
Disclaimer: I do not own Ni no Kuni! That honour solely belongs to Level-5 Studios! If I did, I wouldn't change anything except add a more dramatic conversation between grown Marcassin and Swaine!
—
Chapter 1
It's Been A While
It's been five minutes since Marcassin ran away…
The young boy had used Travel as a quick escape and landed near the entrance of Hamelin. However, he'd quickly scurried away to gain some distance between him and his soon-to-be former home. Once Marcassin had time to breathe, the gravity of what he'd done rushed to his brain. Suddenly his limbs turned to heavy stones and the cold wind slapped him in the face.
"I… I just… ran away…" Marcassin panted and coughed. "I just ran away!" He repeated with more energy, spinning around to stare at the faint light of Hamelin. "What do I do now…?" The boy wondered, deciding to just follow the empty coasts of Autumnia. He felt the bag of guilders' weight in his pockets and slowly removed it. Marcassin held one of the gold coins in his hands, watching it reflect moonlight onto the soil below.
Why did Lars give him so much money?
Marcassin twirled his wand as his mind travelled back to the Tombstone Trail. Lars seemed to be able to relate to his situation. Perhaps he'd guessed what he was planning and wanted to help him? Perhaps the older man had done something similar in his youth? Marcassin shook his head, rubbing his arms for warmth. It didn't matter to him anymore. He had to focus on his next steps.
The former prince couldn't stay in Autumnia. That was for sure. Gascon and his Father would surely look for him, offer up rewards for information and the like. A stranger could easily match his description and report him. And if he went back then nothing would change. Marcassin would still be under all that pressure, and Gascon would go back to finding a different purpose. Then again, they'd be together-
"Stop. I'm not changing my mind!" Marcassin scolded himself, shaking his head once more. He studied his surroundings and breathed in salty ocean air. "Um… I should find a seaport eventually. And, with Mister Lars' money I can afford a trip to another continent. Yeah, things will be fine!" The young boy reassured himself.
Marcassin wouldn't worry.
Gascon wouldn't worry or change his mind.
So, neither would he.
—
It's been three months since Marcassin ran away…
Well, it was Lars now. His original name was much too easy to recognize and as he thought, there were posters asking for his return. Thus, even though the boy's heart was warmed by his family's affection, he began going by Lars. The young boy didn't know why the bounty hunter's name was the first to fly from his tongue. Perhaps it was gratitude for the older man's assistance to his escape? However, he quickly grew fond of the name.
Lars had caught a ship to The Summerlands only a few hours after fleeing. He was lucky that the crew didn't question why a child was travelling alone. Luckier that they believed the age he'd given them. After all, there were only so young before people pushed their questioning. He'd never been on a ship before, never traversed the ocean. That first night, Lars had stayed up to stare at the vast river of stars in awe.
It felt like a new beginning, a new life.
They docked in Castaway Cove. Lars had spent the first few hours exploring the town, marvelling at the feel of natural sunlight on his skin and clear water sights. However, he was soon forced to use the remainder of his money to afford a stay at an inn that wouldn't have any questions as long as there were guilders passing through.
He'd taken another page out of the original Lars' book and gone into bounty hunting. For the first time in his life, Lars was grateful for his powerful magic since it made the bounties so easy it was pitiful. But, the bounties gave good money and was a profession that didn't require turning too many heads. It also gave him the opportunity to explore the world. For now though, he stuck to the area around Castaway Cove so he wouldn't have to camp in the wilds.
"Lars, done so soon?" The Taskmaster chirped as he entered Swift Solutions. Various other patrons were scattered about the establishment, none of which paid the boy any mind.
"Good afternoon, Sir." Lars politely returned, nodding his head. He wasn't particularly pleased having to refer to him by 'Sir' since the day they met. However, all of Lars' attempts to weasel the Taskmaster's name resulted in failures. The boy was half-certain at that point that the older man found amusement in their overly-polite banter. On the bright side, despite grating on Lars' nerves, the interactions helped him develop his social skills.
Slowly but surely, he was opening up to other people without the awkwardness and fear that plagued him in his younger years.
"Here you go." The Taskmaster stated while handing over Lars' guilders.
"Thanks, Sir. I'll see you tomorrow." Lars replied, safely securing his fortune for later.
"Oh, I won't be here tomorrow! It's my day-off!" The Taskmaster boisterously laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. The older man's lips were concealed behind a thick brown beard that shifted when he spoke.
"I see! Looking forward to it, I presume?" Lars smiled.
"Indeed I am! I'm planning to spend the afternoon with my brother." The Taskmaster grinned back, a gleam in his eye.
"You have a brother?" Lars blinked at the first snippet of information about the other male's personal life.
"Aye, an older one." The Taskmaster explained, and the gleam seemed to grow as he spoke.
"Any embarrassing nicknames? I have an older brother myself, and he calls me all sorts of things." Lars pried. To say it was a bit of a stretch would be an exaggeration. The worse Gascon had ever called him was 'softie'.
"Ah, nothing like that. Our names work fine." The bearded man stated and he definitely was enjoying their back and froth.
"I agree. Actually, what is your first name, Sir?" Lars tilted his head with a smile.
"Hmm, I'm afraid I'll have to answer that later, Lars. It is my break." The Taskmaster mock sighed as he moved to exit the establishment. Lars grumbled as the older man quickly shuffled away. He was sure that he didn't even give himself breaks until they had met and began their little banter. Rolling his eyes and beating down the flutter of irritation in his chest, Lars began to walk away himself.
"-the Emperor's dead. I can't believe it…" He stalled. Lars found himself automatically walking towards some of the other patrons who'd been having a conversation.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help but overhear about an Emperor dying?" The boy asked, flashing a deferential smile.
"You haven't heard yet? It's all everyone's been talking about since the news came in yesterday. The Emperor of Hamelin is dead, murdered by Shadar himself. His son's become the next Emperor at such a young age… poor boy…" A woman explained sympathetically. Lars stopped breathing as the room seemed to shrink.
"Father's… dead…?" The thought ran over itself in his mind again and again and again. "Just now?" Lars questioned, struggling to keep his voice curious and not absolutely devastated.
"No, it was months ago. Horrible timing, right after his second son vanished from the Empire." The woman clarified with a wince.
"That one's probably dead too." One of her companions gossiped.
"I see… That is unfortunate news…" He nodded. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." Joined the cacophony of voices in his head. "Thank you. Have a good day." Lars quickly departed, not staying to hear their replies. He ran back to his small room in the inn, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone. Lars shakily closed the door before collapsing on the small, itchy bed. The tears flooded out like a hurricane's fury.
His Father was dead…
Gascon was the Emperor…
"I-I missed Father's funeral…" Lars-Marcassin loudly sobbed into the sheets.
—
It's been five years since Marcassin ran away…
He didn't go back. It would've been so easy, just one Travel spell and he'd be in Hamelin. But, he didn't. He didn't know if that was wrong or right of him to do. Nonetheless, Lars was scared in the end. He was scared of the responsibility of being a prince of Hamelin, and all the pressure and stress that followed. Lars was certain that Gascon would insist he stay if he showed his face. And staying was the one thing he couldn't do.
Instead, Lars increased the distance between them.
He travelled more, explored everywhere he could from the frigid, snowy mountains of Yule to the blistering deserts of Al Mamoon. Lars tried not to stay in one place for too long, tried to put his past behind him. And as the years came and went, as the sun rose and fell with the moon, it became easier.
When he was travelling between towns, Lars would set up camp and sleep in the wild. His eyes would always close to the sight of stars above him. His chest always felt light. He loved learning about the different cultures of the world and experiencing different things. He loved the thrill of an adventure across the boundless ocean or scaling Old Smokey. The countless bounty hunts Lars undertook weren't stressful as his power grew with age, simple to do one at a time at his leisure.
The former prince was having fun to say the least.
"Okay!" Lars exclaimed, accentuating the 'kay' as he walked across the Southern Summerland desert. "This should be the place!" The boy smiled upon approaching a large cave entrance. He'd recently accepted a bounty to slay a beast that was terrorizing local merchants in the area. It'd taken a few days to travel to the beast's rumoured hideout. However, the reward was far worth the endeavour.
"Here it is." Another voice called from behind him and Lars swiftly spun around. To his surprise, he saw an older man with dark skin and hair. The new arrival wore a white robe with golden highlights, and handled a long, curved, wooden staff.
"Oh, hello there!" Lars curiously raised an arm in greeting. Alerted to his presence, the new arrival blinked at him.
"What are you doing here, child?" They asked with both confusion and concern.
"I'm not that young." Lars grumbled. Even though he was only ten-years-old and looked it. The boy was used to stating he was a few years older to stop certain questions. "I'm here for the bounty on the Merchant Terror. And you?" He quizzed, leaning forward.
"I am also here to slay the Terror. But, how can a child be here to fight?" The older man questioned, causing Lars to inwardly chuckle. He always found it funny seeing adults underestimate him before reacting to his battle proficiency.
"I'm stronger than what most people think." He calmly retorted. However, before the two could further converse the ground shook. Lars quickly regained his balance and turned back towards the cave. "Anyways!" The boy loudly yelled at the other male. "I think we should continue this later!" He decided as a massive scorpion-like creature emerged from the cave. The beast's pinchers were as large as his entire body, and its legs were as sharp as knives. Lars gulped as he readied his wand. Fortunately, the other male seemed to agree to wait until the fight was over.
"Frostbite"
—
Twenty minutes and a few fireballs later - including one particular incident involving Lars gleefully riding atop the beast's head - the Merchant Terror screeched as the life left its body. The two wizards stared at the beast while it died before Lars coughed to get the other male's attention.
"So, do you want to split the reward?" He suggested while shaking the sand out of his hair.
"That would be fair." The older male nodded. "You fought well. I am surprised that a child as young as you could possess so much strength." They stated with an intrigued tone.
"Thanks. I get that a lot." Lars quietly laughed. "Oh, I'm Lars by the way." He introduced himself before holding his palm upwards for a handshake.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lars. I am Rashaad." The older male went, accepting the handshake with an amused expression. In response, Lars paused as his brain recognized the name.
"Rashaad? Like the Great Sage?" He asked, hoping he sounded more astounded than nervous. His Father had talked about Rashaad before in passing. And while Lars didn't know the extent of the two sage's relationship, he didn't want to be potentially identified.
"I am." Rashaad nodded. Fortunately, it didn't seem like the Great Sage recognized Lars as the second porcine prince. Rather, a surprisingly talented bounty hunter for his age. "I am planning to return to Al Mamoon immediately to receive the reward. Do you wish to accompany me so we may turn the bounty in together?" Rashaad neutrally questioned, gesturing in the general direction of the great desert society.
"I know Travel. I can meet you at Swift Solutions. But, thank you for offering!" Lars grinned as both wizards performed said spell.
It didn't take long to meet up with the Great Sage and collect the bounty's vast reward. However, Lars was surprised when the older wizard continued to speak to him as they left the establishment.
"Do you have a place to stay?" Rashaad asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"No, Sir! I'll just find an inn to stay the night. Tomorrow I'll be on the road again towards the next adventure." Lars explained, already sorting through possible lodging options in his head based off prior experiences. The hot air of Al Mamoon coated his body and caused him to quickly wipe his brow. He needed to purchase some water to cool himself down later.
"I am not comfortable with a child being on their own for so long." Rashaad frowned.
"I've been doing this for years. If I can fight a scorpion nearly twice my height I think I can handle myself just fine." Lars attempted to joke. Though, Rashaad's concern didn't waver.
"Still, the thought of a child who doesn't look too much older than my own daughter on their own unsettles me." Rashaad sighed. Afterwards, the older wizard gave him a slip of parchment with an address scribbled on. "Here is my address. If you are ever in need of a roof over your head, you know where to find me." He offered to Lars' shock.
"That's awfully generous. Are you sure?" Lars questioned, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. However, Rashaad simply gave him a small, fatherly smile. It reminded Lars of rare moments with his own Father where they were Father and son, not the Emperor and the Emperor-to-be. He clenched his jaw at the memory. "Well, thank you for the offer, Mister Rashaad-" Lars tried to say before a girlish squeal interrupted him.
"Father! Father!" A girl around five-years-old yelled, jumping at the older wizard. She wrapped her tiny arms around the man's waist as he chuckled, patting her blonde head.
"Hello, child." Rashaad warmly greeted as another laughing woman joined his side. "My love." He smiled to her. The woman greatly resembled her daughter with long blonde hair and fair skin. Though, she had a radiant air around her.
"How was your trip?" The woman Lars presumed to be Rashaad's wife asked kindly.
"A success." The man answered. Rashaad's gaze travelled to an observing Lars and turned his family towards him. "This is Lars. We worked together to hunt the Merchant Terror down. Lars, this is my family." He introduced.
"Hi." Lars went, waving his arm. He was promptly taken off guard by the girl racing in front of him.
"Hi! I'm Esther! Are you a wizard like Father?" Esther energetically pressed with stars in her eyes. She eagerly pointed at Lars' wand he protectively held close.
"I… Yes, I'm a wizard." He slowly nodded.
"That's amazing!" Esther clapped as her mother corralled her over. Lars chuckled and took the opportunity to glance at the darkening sky. Various shades of orange, purple, and blue blotting the clouds.
"Well… it was nice meeting you and your family, Mister Rashaad. But, I have to get going now. I guess I'll see you around." Lars casually saluted as he jaunted away from the Great Sage's family. Lars replayed the encounter over in his head while he walked through the slowly dwindling streets of Al Mamoon.
Over the years, he'd find a good friend in Rashaad.
—
It's been ten years since Marcassin ran away…
"I hope you have a good evening, Theo." Lars amicably grinned to the Taskmaster as he left Swift Solutions. He found himself walking along the empty docks of Castaway Cove. The cool night air cut through short hair above his shoulders. The young man stared at his grimacing reflection in the waters.
Lars had spent the past year in the Northern Summerlands, operating around Ding Dong Dell. The only exception had been occasional dinners with Rashaad's family. However, Lars increasingly found himself drifting towards Castaway Cove and the ocean due to a sense of longing. It was the area he was most familiar with, where he knew the most people. Lars even had a discount at one of the inns since he rented their rooms so often.
"A whole decade…" Lars reflected, running his gloved fingers over his wand. It wasn't the same wand he'd arrived with all those years ago. It wasn't the wand his Father had given him once he'd been deemed ready. The young man had traded his old wand years ago for a new one that better suited his growing talents. Furthermore, the wand could still identify him if he ever crossed paths with Gascon. And, Lars wanted it to be his choice to reveal himself… at some point.
His new weapon had a long golden shaft instead of his old red one, a purple collar and heel, and an emerald-coloured jewel at the top. It felt lighter in his hands and heart. Yet a part of Lars still wasn't completely used to wielding it.
Lars stopped walking near the edge of the Cove, and sat down so his feet floated above the water's surface. It was mostly silent, the only interruption being random voices travelling through the wind. His hands relaxed under his chin. He looked towards the ocean, and allowed his mind to wander. The young man imagined the distant continent beyond the waves.
He thought of the grey soil of Hamelin's outskirts, the ever-present smell of factory smoke, and the whirring hum of machine work. Cold wind accompanied by the faint warmth of lanterns among the metallic streets.
He thought of home.
It's been ten years since Marcassin ran away.
He thought it was about time he returned.
The bounty hunter had been hearing disturbing rumours about his brother's reign. Notions such as ridiculous decrees, worrying remarks about the Empire's future. The most absurd of those whispers had been some sort of 'flower tax' that each citizen were forced to pay. At first, Lars had dismissed them as mere gossip about one of, if not the most powerful figure in Hamelin. However, as talk spread of the Emperor of Hamelin's growing madness his concern grew with it.
The former prince hoped beyond hope that it was some kind of slander campaign. However, Lars needed to talk to his brother and make sure things were alright. And if Gascon needed his family at that moment, then Lars would stay for him regardless if he was ready or not.
Lars stood, gaze unwavering from the ocean. He twirled his wand in his hands as he paced the outer docks.
"Should I get Gascon a gift?" The young man pondered before rapidly shaking his head. "No, that's stupid. Hello, brother who I haven't seen in ten years, good to see you, I brought you a gift!" He admonished, continuing to twirl his wand. "I should just go and talk to him. Just talk and… see how it goes. Ideally, well." Lars nodded, tapping his wand on the wooden planks.
However, before Lars could mouth the Travel spell, he detected a presence watching him.
Instantly on guard, Lars got into a defensive stance as he stared into the shadows of Castaway Cove.
"Who's there?" He called out, senses honed from the years of hunting beasts. Ever so slowly, a figure creeped from a dark alleyway. Thin strands of red hair fell out of a pitch black hood, and they walked with a curved wooden wand. Strange turquoise symbols adorned the figure's hood, giving off an ominous vibe. "Who are you?" Lars asked, pointing his wand at the stranger. His body screamed danger at him.
"The Dark Djinn, Shadar." The figure drawled, power emanating off of him in waves. Lars' eyes widened into saucers at the revelation.
"You!" He hissed, eyes narrowing. "You murdered my Father!" His mind finished.
"I can't have you interfere with the Emperor's crusade, Prince Marcassin." Shadar coldly stated, taking a step forward as Lars took a step back in shock.
"How did you-" The young man began before the Djinn's words registered in his mind. "What. Did. You. Do. To my brother?!" Lars snarled, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
"You will find out soon enough." Shadar mocked, raising his wand up high.
"Arrow of Light!" Lars quickly called out antecedent to dodging his enemy's own attack. Fortunately, they were the only figures on the docks so there were no civilians to get caught in the crossfires. Lars put up a good fight, his movements fuelled by a vengeful urge for his family. However, in his anger his moves became sloppier with time.
"I'm surprised you still wish to see the Emperor after running away. Don't you worry about how he'll react to your presence?" Shadar asked as they fought. Lars panted, eyes refusing to lose the Djinn's movements. He refused to answer the murderer as he conjured another spell. Tilting his head, the hooded man tried a different approach. "Don't you worry if that weak Emperor will despise you?" Shadar goaded, and Lars physically reeled at his insult.
His mouth moved before his mind.
"I know my brother! Even after all these years, I know him!" Lars shouted, though he felt a shiver run up his back.
"Ah, belief." Shadar observed, and Lars realized he'd committed a grave mistake. The former prince couldn't react when the Djinn appeared behind him. "Take Heart." The Djinn cast in a low tone.
Lars could barely gasp as his world went black.
—
He awoke to a destroyed dock being shaken awake by the Taskmaster.
"-Lars, wake up, boy! What happened to yuh?" The older man pushed as Lars flung his eyes open with a groan, scrambling away. "Good, you're awake…" The Taskmaster sighed in relief as Lars tried to clear his head. Morning sunlight burned his eyes and he shifted his vision downwards. However, he froze upon seeing his reflection in the water.
Lars screamed.
"Don't look at me! I'm hideous!" The boy wailed, grabbing and pulling at his skin with a panicked expression.
"Lars? What's wrong with yuh? You look fine, boy-" The Taskmaster tried to say. But, where Lars once saw a source of friendship and warmth. All he could see now was pity and disgust.
"DON'T MOCK ME!" Lars screamed, rising to his feet on shaky legs, whimpering at the gathering crowd. His chest felt cold, too cold. His heart had been locked in the darkest caves of Yule.
"I'm not mocking yuh, boy! What's going on with-" The Taskmaster assured to no effect.
Lars took one unsure step away, and then another, and another. With one sheltered breath, he ran as fast as his legs would will him. The young boy ran through the crowd and into the alleys of Castaway Cove, hiding his face with trembling hands.
He was disgusting…
Who could ever care for him?
—
It's been fifteen years since Marcassin ran away…
Lars walked into Swift Solutions as quietly as he could, hunched over and with a dark green hood covering his head. The poor excuse of a bounty hunter tried his very best to ignore the mocking stares he received from the other patrons. Nervously, Lars adjusted the grotesque pig head mask that covered most of his head. He'd bought the mask as soon as he could to hide his disgusting face.
There were some new arrivals in Swift Solutions, looking at some of the merit awards on display. There was a young boy with a silly red cape, a blonde girl in purple clothing… and some odd familiar with a little lantern.
"More people who will have to see my ugly self." Lars bemoaned with a shudder. He hoped that day would be less horrible than the others that week.
—
Author's Notes: So, it turned out to be pretty long, heh. I'm mostly proud of this chapter. Originally, I was going to have Marcassin change his name to 'Marcus'. However, I realized that they were too similar and it would be easy to determine his identity. So, I went with Lars since that was Marcassin's name in the original game. There are a few things I'm going to clear up in case anyone's confused! So, firstly, Shadar's asking questions during his fight with Lars to determine what piece of his heart to take. Evidently, it ended up being his belief. Also, when I say 'pig mask,' in my head it's like the mask Technoblade wears in DreamSMP animatics. Particularly, the SAD-ist animatics!
Hope you liked the chapter! Please tell me your thoughts below and have a great day! Until next time!