Author's Note: I was so tempted to cut this chapter in half. But, the ratio did not work out! Fortunate for you readers, since if I had been able, I would've left this chapter on a cliffhanger! Anyways, TIME TRAVEL TIME! Get ready for some heavy scenes!
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 4
A Literal Trip Down Memory Lane
"Dammit." Lars softly cursed. It was so obvious in hindsight. The fact that their names matched the group of long ago. The fact that he looked the same as that Lars of long ago. The same Lars, he reminded himself. He was that Lars. That Lars was him. Then again, he hadn't been thinking clearly under Shadar's influence. And then everything with Gascon…
He didn't want to think about the Emperor of Hamelin, either of them.
"I must discover how they came to appear here. And I shall not rest until I have done so." His Father decreed, leaning closer to an apprehensive Oliver. Lars shook his head, clearing his mind. He needed to focus. He couldn't draw any unnecessary attention to himself from his Father. "It is my sworn duty to know all that goes on in my domain. Come!" The Emperor ordered, surveying his guards. "Bring them to my chamber! We have much to discuss." He called, breezing past Lars' tense shoulders and away.
"Sir!" The guards silently obeyed, pushing the group forward.
"What in the blinking world is going on, mun?!" Drippy rambled before a guard raised their spear at him.
"Quiet! Do not speak unless the Emperor asks it of you." The guard harshly derided.
"Just do what they say, Drippy. I… I think I have an idea on what's happening." Lars unsurely added, sending an anxious glance at his Father. Usually, Lars was blasé to risk after risk. However, he didn't want the particular risk of the Emperor recognizing him and the sort of conversation that would turn into! Would he recognize his voice or demand he remove his mask? Lars hoped he wouldn't find out.
"You do?" Oliver whispered from next to him. Lars nodded. The bounty hunter could see the others sending him concerned glances, lingering on the pig mask. He'd have to make an excuse later on for why he was wearing the blasted thing. Though, for now, Lars decided to pour over his childhood memories for hints on the upcoming adventure. A low pang in his chest reminded him that he wouldn't be able to change much since it appeared that their appearance in the past was foretold.
Lars remembered reading about his Father's death. It occurred the same day he ran away, the same day… they'd arrived in the past. His eyes widened behind the pig mask while he tightly clenched his fists.
"Even if I can't change anything… I have to try!" The former prince resolved with a steely fire in his heart.
"Now, you will tell me who you are and how you are here?" His Father interrogated after waving his guards away, quoting that a Great Sage could defend himself. Oliver, Esther, and Drippy looked toward him for the same answer. Lars sighed, taking a deep breath before speaking.
"We're… we're from the future… Your Majesty. About fifteen years from today." The bounty hunter quietly explained, careful to properly address the Emperor and not call him Father. In response, his group gasped while the Emperor boisterously laughed.
"Your lies are laughable, boy. Are you truly trying to suggest that you are from… the future?" His Father chuckled, amusedly placing his hands on his hips, as if not taking them seriously.
"Is it really true, Lars? I'm not sure I believe it myself…" Esther expressed, tilting her head.
"I grew up here, remember? The man before us is the former Emperor of Hamelin, alright. Plus, do you think… do you think Emperor Trigger Happy would set up some elaborate prank?" Lars calmly argued, seeing his companions slowly nod along.
"Hm. You shall tell more of this. Say I believe this tale of yours. Speak! What becomes of Hamelin in the future? And who is this 'Emperor' that you claim to have encountered?" His Father pressed, hands settling behind his back. Lars recalled that that usually meant he was taking guests seriously.
"Um… he had dark brown hair and eyes… and Hamelin's… growing…" Oliver half-answered.
"So, Gascon will become Emperor one day… That is hardly a surprise, boy. A liar would say the same, hardly proof of your tale." His Father scoffed, causing Lars' eyes to widen even as Oliver protested. Because hadn't it been common knowledge in the palace that Marcassin would succeed their Father? Because hadn't it been common knowledge that Gascon had no potential in the magical arts? Because hadn't Gascon been told over and over to find his own place in the Empire?
"…Show him the picture, Oliver." Lars mumbled, twirling his wand. Perhaps his Father wanted to save face?
"Is that a good idea, Lars?" Esther hesitantly challenged.
"His Majesty wants proof, so let's give him some." Lars elaborated as Oliver presented Gascon's picture to the Emperor. As his Father studied what would become of Gascon, Lars searched his eyes for the disapproval that both brothers were once sure they'd find. However, there was only intrigue on the former Emperor's face.
"Hmm… It does indeed look somewhat similar to my son. And what of Marcassin, my second son?" His Father questioned, and it took every ounce of restraint in Lars' body to not react to his name.
"You have a second son? The Emperor has a little brother?" Oliver countered in surprise, mouth hanging open.
"You… do not know of him?" His Father repeated, seeming shocked for the first time during their meeting. "But-" The Emperor started but was interrupted by the doors slamming open and a guard running through.
"Your Majesty! Something terrible has occurred! It's Prince Gascon and Prince Marcassin! They went out to practise their magic, but… they have ventured beyond the city walls!" The guard reported while standing at attention.
"Leave them be! They shall fend for themselves!" His Father scoffed, unconcerned. Lars inwardly sighed as the others argued with the Emperor about his concern for his children. This, he remembered. Though, the former prince acknowledged that perhaps his Father knew his true skill at the time. Thus, perhaps he knew his children were never in real danger… It still stung though.
Nonetheless, Lars twirled his wand as they raced towards the mountains to save his younger self and Gascon. It'd been far too long since he'd been able to fight a beast. He couldn't go rusty, now could he?
—
It was odd meeting his younger self. It was odd seeing Gascon as Lars remembered and not the Emperor he'd become. It was odd watching the two princes interact from an outsider's perspective yet understanding everything. The bounty hunter had handled the encounter by distancing himself from his past. Lars thought of Marcassin as a separate person entirely. He made the younger prince seem like just another random boy. While Lars was just a nobody bounty hunter with a polite spot of reckless humour. It helped bury the urge to engulf his brother - the one he remembered - in the tightest hug possible and never let go.
The rush of battling the Earth Ogre helped Lars forget how complicated everything was at that moment. The fight reminded him of the reason he left Hamelin in the first place, to leave all of the complicated things behind.
Yet here Lars was… in the past once again with his family… reliving Marcassin's last day home…
"We really needed to work on our communication, didn't we?" Lars mentally groaned as he watched the two princes run off after Gascon's screaming match with their Father about the new rule. The young man's gaze lingered on the brothers as the doors shut closed, already knowing the conversation that was passing between them. Lars was remembering a lot more about this day the longer he spent in the past.
"Hmm… I am sorry that you had to witness that." The Emperor coughed, drawing his attention back toward the issue at hand. Gascon and their father's feuds were always like an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object.
"No need, I've already lived it." Lars snarked to himself. "It's no problem, Your Majesty." He retorted aloud, polite. After all, there were few things that could rouse Lars to anger.
"You were talking about Breach Time, Your Majesty…" Esther reminded, and returned the discussion's flow. Lars listened as his Father instructed the group to travel to the Tombstone Trail to retrieve the legendary wand, Mornstar and return to the future. Afterwards, he watched as his Father gifted the Arrow of Light spell to Oliver. The group went to leave for their journey, unaware that the two princes would follow them all the way.
Yet… Lars couldn't bring his feet to move.
"Father dies tonight, at some point after Marcassin runs away… I don't know if we'll be back in time to prevent his death if I wait now… But… what if I reveal myself…?" His thoughts raced, pushing and shoving against each other as long roots chained him to the floor. The young man didn't notice the increasing sets of eyes locking onto him until Esther tapped his shoulder, causing him to jump.
"Lars, are you alright? We're going now." The blonde asked with furrowed brows.
"Right, right. Sorry, Esther… I just… lot on my mind…" Lars forced out, glad that his frantic eyes were hidden.
"You sure? You've seemed off ever since we got to the past." Oliver piped up, scratching the back of his head. In turn, the bounty hunter twirled his wand in one hand as he collected his thoughts.
"Sorry if I worried you guys… But, I…" Lars inhaled. "Now or never, Lars." He encouraged. "I was wondering if I could speak to His Majesty for a moment. There's something that happens in the near future… that I would say is of the highest importance for His Majesty to be made aware of." The former prince explained, automatically falling into proper diction. His companions looked at each other before reluctantly relenting.
"If it's alright with the Emperor… I'm fine with waiting a few minutes…" Esther noted along with Oliver and Drippy. Behind them, his Father raised a hand to signal his acceptance.
"Yeah, it's not like Mornstar's going anywhere, right guys?" Oliver joked to lighten the mood.
"But don't take too blinking long, mun! We don't want to travel the Tombstone Trail half-dead ourselves, don't we, yeah?" Drippy contributed, wagging his lantern from side to side before the three left the chamber.
—
Sixty, silent, seconds passed in awkward proceedings. Lars didn't want to be the one to speak first. He'd never be the one to speak first when talking to his Father growing up.
"Speak, boy. What of the future do you desire to share with me?" The Emperor prompted, causing Lars to cough.
"Yes, Your Majesty…" He nodded again, mostly to himself while twirling his wand. His Father's eyes followed the motion with an apathetic expression. "Come on…" His mind urged. Lars couldn't worry about his actions undoing others. He couldn't worry about creating a future worse than the one he knew. Marcassin just needed to save his Father. His heart wouldn't be able to take him dying while Lars knew and did nothing.
"Tin-Man got your tongue? Speak!" The Emperor again prompted, irritation clear in his voice.
"I apologize, Your Majesty." Lars quickly went, stomping down the 'Father' that wanted to spring forth. "To put it bluntly, Your Majesty… You die tonight. Specifically, you are murdered." The bounty hunter explained with grave eyes, not that anyone could tell. Had it been raining outside, he was sure a thunderbolt would flash for dramatic effect.
"What…?" His Father breathed out, voice uncharacteristically open for a fraction of a moment before he wrestled his emotions back under control.
"I don't know the exact timing. But, I know it happens tonight. The Dark Djinn, Shadar attacks the palace and you are murdered-" And suddenly he can't stop talking, as if an invisible force is dragging the words from his aching throat. "-Survived by your older son, Gascon. He succeeds you as Emperor of Hamelin for ten years before Shadar attacks him too-" His Father's eyes widened again, and is that fear he finds? Impossible. "But he won't kill him. Instead, he'll steal a piece of his heart to turn Gascon into a tyrant who wants nothing more than to expand Hamelin's sphere of influence, regardless of whose people he hurts to get there, even our own…" Shut up, shut up! He can't stop!
"Shadar also attacks Marcassin, who runs away today because of the stress of becoming the next Emperor. But, Shadar somehow finds him and steals a piece of his heart around the same time as Gascon. And Marcassin becomes a pathetic, little, coward, who can't even use magic-" Why can't Lars stop talking? He'd only wanted to tell his Father about his death as a concerned citizen of Hamelin. Why was he going on and on about things he shouldn't know so well?
Lars had to physically clamp his jaw shut to stop his increasingly emotional ramblings. Coughing and making sure his mask is secure, the bounty hunter flushed red.
"I-I apologize, Your Majesty. That was uncalled for. I hope this information assists you in some way." Lars stammered, trying to keep his voice even. He needed to get out of there before the horror of what he'd done caught up to him. The young man's feet finally uprooted themselves like weeds as he turned to run away again… and nothing's changed, has it?
"Remove your mask, boy. That is an order from your Emperor." His Father sternly demanded, causing his breath to hitch.
"… I can't, Your Majesty." Lars excused. He'd told the others that he'd worn the mask to avoid revealing his identity to his past self. It hadn't been a lie. Just not a complete truth. For he wore the mask to hide from both his past self and past family. "You're not the Emperor in my time. And I'm also… not a citizen of Hamelin in said time." The young man waived in what was supposed to be a casual voice. Definitely had to keep a low profile if they returned to Hamelin in this time.
He moved towards the door once more.
"Marcassin." The bounty hunter stilled, eyes blowing up behind his mask.
"I'm sorry?" Marc-Lars responded with a strained laugh. "My name is Lars, Your Majesty. That's L.A.R.S." He cheerfully repeated.
"You twirl your wand whenever you're nervous. It's a habit you've had since you first wielded one." The Emperor argued, stepping forward.
"A common habit among wizards." Lars retorted, resting a hand above his chest to hide its trembling.
"My guards saw your face before you threw that mask on. Your eyes are blue." Another step forward. The roots were back, entwining his legs. He couldn't feel his limbs in his rising panic, like being flung into the eye of the storm.
"A common feature among people." He angrily denied, refusing to meet the man's gaze. "He knows. He knows. He knows." Rapidly played in his head.
"Fifteen years you said? You'd be twenty by then." Another step. Silence. "I know my own flesh and blood." His Father took another step, close enough to grab his shoulder. Yet, the older wizard made no contact. The choice was Lars'. His heart made the decision for him. If there was one thing he'd regretted by running away, it was leaving his family.
In one swift motion, Lars unclasped the mask and let it fall limply to the floor. Marcassin turned to face his Father, shoulders hunched.
Because Marcassin loved his brother.
Because Marcassin loved his Father.
"… You grew up into a fine, young, man, son." His Father quietly appraised after a tense silence. Though, what else was one supposed to say after meeting one's son who…? "You ran away?" He stated, voice sombre. Marcassin slowly nodded.
"I'm sorry, Father. It was too much. There was so much pressure on me to become the next Great Sage, the next Emperor. And I hated how lost Gascon seemed all the time trying to find his own role in Hamelin. I just wanted to get away and have fun for once… I thought it'd be better for both Gascon and I…" Marcassin admitted in a fragile tone.
"I never knew… Why didn't you…" His Father trailed off. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" Floated in the air between them. Yet both already knew the answer.
"I thought you'd ignore me. I thought you'd tell me to find the answer by myself." Swirled in the wind.
"Where did you get the idea that I wanted you to be the next Emperor?" His Father suddenly asked.
"Huh?" Marcassin went, blinking. "Gascon and I… we were always under the impression that was what you wished for. You were constantly telling Gascon to 'find his own role in the Empire' and how I was destined to be a sage. Furthermore, the next Emperor of Hamelin needs to be a Sage too. So, it appeared obvious, Father." The former prince explained to his Father's growing dread.
"That's not what I wished for you two at all." His Father shook his head.
"What?" Marcassin blinked again.
"I wanted you and Gascon to rule Hamelin together. Gascon as Emperor and you as a Great Sage." His Father revealed, settling his hands on his hips in deep contemplation.
"But, doesn't the Emperor need to be a Great Sage? Like you, and Grandfather, and Great-Grandmother?" The young man asked.
"Laws can be changed. I'm the Emperor, my word is law." His Father swatted. "But, I've known for some time now that Gascon and you were to rule together. Where Gascon has my rage, my stubbornness, my passion. You are endearing, calm and a mediator. You balance each other out. And that's what our Empire needs." He sighed. "But, it appears my attempts to convey such goals were grossly misunderstood as favouritism." His Father frowned.
"… Our family really sucks at communicating." Marcassin bluntly agreed with his first genuine grin, causing the older man to chuckle as well.
"That we do, boy. That we do." He nodded. "Tell me, Marcassin. What is your life like in the future?" His Father asked.
"Well… I've been a bounty hunter for ten years, exploring the world… until Shadar… took my belief away. I'm sorry. I know I've been wasting my power as a Great Sage on menial tasks-" Marcassin started before his Father interrupted.
"Do you want to be a bounty hunter?" He quizzed.
"Of course. It's a lot of fun, and I've been able to travel to so many amazing places in the world." The former prince clarified with a soft smile.
"If it is the path you chose, then it is the right one. The Great Sage forges his own path. That is the Hamelin way." His Father supported in a gruffer tone. The younger of the two felt a warm fire spark to life inside his chest at his words. "You mentioned that Shadar stole a piece of Gascon's heart in the future?" He continued, causing Marcassin to wince.
"Yes… his restraint. We were actually trying to find someone who'd donate some extra restraint so we could help him… before this happened." The former prince went, motioning with his arms around the room.
"I see…" His Father hummed. "Before you leave the palace for the Tombstone Trail, visit the royal archives. Ask for 'Gerta' and explain your dilemma to her. Out of everyone, I'd say she has the most restraint in Hamelin." The older man advised.
"Thank you, Father." Marcassin softly nodded with raised eyebrows. He glanced at the doors again. "My… companions… they'll start worrying for me soon." The former prince sadly noted.
"Then our time here has come to an end. As yours in this time will too." His Father signed.
"… Take care of yourself, alright? Shadar's a tough opponent. He defeated me in the future before stealing my belief, and I'm no slouch." Marcassin unsurely requested.
"I will do my best, son." The Emperor reassured. "Marcassin…" He started as the younger man obtained the fallen pig mask. "I'll always be proud of you and Gascon. I believe that whatever paths you choose, no matter how far they take you from Hamelin, it will lead to greatness. For both yourselves, and for the Empire. Remember that." His Father asked.
"I'll try my best, Father." Marcassin smiled as he fixed the pig mask atop his head. "Goodbye." The young man offered his hand for a handshake.
"Goodbye, son." The Emperor returned, taking the hand for a moment before drawing him in for a tight embrace.
—
Right on schedule, the two young princes followed their group and were taken along for the ride. Lars smiled while watching the brothers exchange banter and quips. Though, a new kind of weight sat in his chest after the bounty hunter's meeting with the Emperor.
"Gascon!" The young Marcassin called as they hiked through the rocky mountains. He carried his wand with him, which appeared far too tall for his small body.
"Yes, Marcassin? What is it?" Gascon grumbled. However, a deep fondness rested in his pupils, swirling like the ripples in a pool. The older prince carried a single firearm with him, the first of many weapons in his arsenal. Lars found the common sight quite nostalgic, and a broad smile couldn't help but form itself across his face. Unfortunately, Gascon caught him staring. "Oi? What are you looking at?!" The older prince brusquely demanded to know. So, much like their Father.
"Sorry, kiddos." Lars shook his head, smile diminishing into a tiny grin. "You two just reminded me of some people I used to know…" The young man reminisced.
"Don't call me a kid!" Gascon protested, shaking his fist at him.
"Oh, Lars has a point!" Oliver nodded near them. "There's something familiar here. But, I just can't place it!" The boy observed, scratching the back of his head in wonder. The bounty hunter pretended to sneeze to hide his snort.
"Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, you have no idea…" He mentally cackled.
—
"Travel!" The young Marcassin called, unknowingly beginning the path towards Lars' present. The young man brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the spell's blinding light. He'd debated stopping himself from leaving, toying with the possibility of keeping his entire family together in the future. However, the bounty hunter had enjoyed the life he'd lived up to that moment. He'd enjoyed hopping from town to town, fighting beasts and collecting bounties.
Lars wouldn't steal that life from his younger self. Besides, if all went well, he'd be able to reunite with his alive family in the future.
"Lars?! What was that?" Esther yelled as the group ran down next to him and Gascon.
"That looked like Travel." Oliver noted in a stunned voice.
"Did the prince seriously just flipping vanish on us?" Drippy shouted in disbelief. Initially, Lars was silent while staring at the spot where Marcassin last stood. He patted his empty pockets, having given the rest of his money to his younger self as he recalled receiving that same way. Before the bounty hunter could respond to his companions' questioning, a loud shout caused him to stare down at an awakening Gascon.
"Marcassin?!" The prince shrieked, stumbling to his feet on shaking legs. "What just-Where-How…I…?" Gascon incoherently rambled, clutching his head with a wince.
"Easy there, kid. You took a nasty hit to the head earlier." Lars placated non-committedly. However, his words held no sway on the impulsive boy whose eyes rapidly darted down the hills and trails.
"Marcassin? Where is Marcassin? Where did he go?" Gascon furiously asked, stomping his foot down.
"I always wondered how you reacted after I left, Gascon." Lars put conscious effort into smothering his smile. It was heartwarming to see his brother worrying about his younger self. He couldn't fathom how Shadar made him believe that Gascon would've rejoiced at his disappearance. "He's gone, Your Highness." The bounty hunter bluntly put it, watching as the prince's fury singled onto him. "Before you pounce on me, check your arm. Your brother left you a note." He calmly advised, pointing at the aforementioned writing. "This is the world forcing me to see the full outcome of my choice, eh?" Lars privately sighed.
Gascon's gaze dashed to the note antecedent to speedily ripping it open and devouring its contents. As he reached farther and farther down the note, the prince's face grew grimmer and grimmer. Upon finishing, Gascon's face was as white as the skeletons around them.
"I don't understand… Marcassin felt… pressured? But… Father always told us how it was his destiny to succeed him…that it was set in stone." The prince whispered, hands collapsing to his sides.
"Does your brother want to be the next Emperor though?" Lars softly countered, crossing his arms. He didn't want to twirl his wand in front of Gascon in case it gave away his identity. At his words, Gascon furrowed his brows.
"Does he want to be the next… Well-I… I don't know… I-I never asked…" The prince answered, his expression turning lost.
"The communication issues runs in the family…" Lars groaned.
"I think he just wanted to spend time with you, Your Highness." Esther thoughtfully supplied. Gascon looked at the girl in surprise. "You're both kids. And I don't mean to pry. But. he seemed uncomfortable whenever you or the Emperor talked about the future." The blonde noted as Lars' eyes widened behind his mask.
"I thought he just didn't like it when Father and I were arguing…" Gascon weakly protested.
"Why do you think he was pretending to be bad at magic?" The bounty hunter prompted. No one could deny that the young prince was faking his skills at that point. They'd all seen him defeat the Candelabracadabra with ease. The older prince didn't speak, so Lars continued. "If your brother didn't leave. What would you have done, kid?" He asked, despite already having an idea of his answer.
"How does that-" The boy started before Lars cut in.
"Just answer the question, kid." The bounty hunter curtly pushed despite noticing the ambivalent faces of his companions. Minutes passed in forced tension as Gascon tried to come up with a response. The wind's chill brushed against his skin, yet the frosty cold he felt came from a separate, hollow, source. Said cold emerged victorious against his earlier warmth as Lars realized that he'd done this to his brother.
"I would have left instead… if Marcassin stayed… To find my role in the Empire like Father instructed… " Gascon quietly stated, guilt clouding his features.
"Your brother probably knew that then. Probably didn't want you to leave him. Was probably feeling bad that the only reason you needed to find a role was because of him-" Lars summarized, missing the growing realization on Esther's face behind him.
"I never blamed Marcassin for-" Gascon interrupted with a scowl.
"That doesn't clear away the guilt, kid." The bounty hunter reminded. In turn, the prince fell silent. "I'm so, so, sorry…" Marcassin mentally cried. "Anyways, it's been a long day… We should get going and talk to the Emperor…" Lars nudged the group, feeling his chest ache at the involuntary flinch from his brother. It wasn't going to be a pretty conversation between the two royals. "Did you get Mornstar?" He questioned.
"Y-Yeah! We did… it was kind of weird though…" Oliver stammered, revealing the golden wand in his grasp.
"… Explain on the way back." Lars turned to leave.
"Hey, wait! Why didn't you stop Marcassin from leaving? You had to have known what he was doing!" Gascon accused, seizing Lars' shoulder to spin him around. The young man immediately stiffened, hand going for his wand before halting the motion.
"… Believe me or don't believe me. I knew what the kid was going through. I didn't have the right to stop him with my past." Lars vaguely explained while casually removing Gascon's grip. "Let's go." He said with enough finality to shut his brother up.
—
"Lars? Can we talk later?" Esther quietly asked as they marched through the palace corridors. She'd had an agitated air about her for the entire journey back to Hamelin.
"About?" He questioned in turn as they turned a corner. Every wince from Gascon from every guard that noticed Marcassin's conspicuous absence sent a new wave of guilt through him.
"Just… something I've noticed." The blonde answered as they edged closer towards the Emperor's chambers. "I-Why are the guards unconscious?" She gasped as the group neared. Lars felt his blood freeze over as he followed her gaze. The various guards posted in front of the chambers were strewn about the halls in varying states of unconsciousness. They looked to each other. The tension of the Tombstone Trail returning with a vengeance as they broke into a sprint.
The bounty hunter was the swiftest among them. Thus, Lars raced through the ominously open doors to find a swirling void of darkness circling the Emperor.
"Fireball!" The spell practically flew from his tongue. However, the attack missed the entity, merely pushing the couch behind it against the wall with a violent slam. The pulsing darkness around his Father suddenly flew up and dissipated with a low chuckle. "Dammit! NO!" Lars cursed, his vision falling downwards as the Emperor dropped to his knees. The older man's own wand rolling from his grasp with a deafening clang.
They were too late to stop the Dark Djinn…
He was too late to change anything…
"Healing Hand!" Lars desperately cast upon catching his Father's fading form, gently laying him on the floor despite the shaking in his limbs. The spell illuminated the Emperor's body before unexpectedly cracking into particles. "What? Healing Hand!" The wizard tried again to the same result. "Why isn't it working?" Lars yelled, panicked tears falling from beneath his mask. His energy was rapidly fading as he tried to cast the spell once more.
"M-Marcassin… My son…" His Father weakly spoke, reaching his hand towards his.
"D-Don't speak… S-Save your strength…" The young man struggled as the others caught up.
"Father?!" Gascon hoarsely shrieked, stumbling to the man's other side as Lars rose his wand again.
"H-H-Healing Hand-" The former prince choked, vision wobbling as his power protested the expense of casting the arduous spell.
"Lars! Stop!" Oliver was saying, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't sit there and do nothing but watch his own Father slowly die from whatever Shadar had done! Lars attempted to continue his futile effort, but his magic wouldn't respond. His energy was gone.
"Dammit… Damn it all…" Lars began to cry, ugly tears wetting the floor.
"What happened? Who did this to you?" Gascon demanded to know, gripping their Father's arm with trembling fingers.
"Sha… Shadar…" His Father feebly explained, glassy eyes finding Lars' face. "It was… as… you said… He demanded our unconditional surrender… Let it be known I defied him… I would not bow to that wretch… Even knowing… of what you said…" The older man coughed as Lars' grief grew. No, as Marcassin's grief exploded. "My… my sons…" The Emperor used the last remnants of his strength to latch onto Lars and Gascon's hands.
"F-Father…" Gascon cried, the tears pouring from his eyes like drops from the storm. "Marcassin… I… He…" He struggled to speak.
"I know… I know… It's okay…" His Father assured. His voice once booming then gentle as a songbird. "He will be okay…" He stated, squeezing Marcassin's hand just a tad harder while slightly turning towards the bounty hunter.
"What…? I don't-" Gascon stuttered, following his gaze.
"Listen to me… Gascon…" Their Father implored, drawing both's eyes to him. "You and… Marcassin… will lead our Empire to greatness… I have… always believed… in you… to be the next Emperor… of Hamelin… " He gasped, choking on his words.
"But… you said… You always said?!" The boy angrily accused despite the river of salt flowing down his pale cheeks. Their Father gave no indication of hearing. His eyes slowly fluttered closed like the ticking of a clock. "Father? Father? Answer me, you bastard! YOU CAN'T DIE! NOT LIKE THIS! FATHER! FATHER!" Gascon howled, hitting the Emperor's chest as his heart stopped beating. Slowly, the man's grip vanished and his hands fell to his sides.
Dead.
—
Marcassin stormed from the chambers the moment his Father's spirit left the world. He pushed past concerned hands and voices as he tumbled back onto Hamelin's streets. The former prince couldn't bare to face them after everything. The world felt so, very, wrong. As if tilted and upside down in jaded colours that had no right to change. How did everything fall apart so quickly?
He didn't look where he was going. Streets and buildings blurred together in his haste. Marcassin merely understood that he needed to get out.
Eventually, the bounty hunter found himself outside of Hamelin. Blessedly alone. Without thinking, Marcassin raised his wand and with a shrill scream that ripped across the sky… attacked.
His energy had been nearly depleted. But, Marcassin's grief added enough fuel to transform him into a merciless tank. The bounty hunter was brutal. It didn't matter who stood in his path: Jackrabbots, Trapper Snappers, Crashing Boars or Tin Men. All fell in his wake. He didn't know how long he'd been at it. But, eventually, Marcassin swayed as he stood, with nothing but a hoarse throat and a pile of fallen enemies to show for it.
The former prince collapsed to the cold ground, breathing heavily.
His heart beat loudly, like thunder. His body felt tired. Tiredness that stemmed from both the physical and emotional strain he'd recently been put through. Fleeting memories joggled around in Marcassin's mind. Every moment he'd spent together with his family. Both his Father and Gascon teaching him magic, exploring Hamelin with Gascon, lessons with his Father.
"Why… why did things end up like this?" Marcassin hiccuped, covering his teary face with his hands. His body shook with another round of sobs. However, his cries soon turned into growls. His grief soon turned to rare anger. Slowly, Marcassin forced himself to stand. And though his body appeared as if it could be blown over like a leaf, he was a mountain that could not be shoved aside.
"Sha… Shadar…" His Father's voice echoed in his mind.
"Shadar…" Marcassin whispered to the land, a murderous aura engulfing his heart. "You'll pay for this… You'll pay for what you've done to my family…" He swore.
—
They stayed for a few days. It didn't feel right to leave the past with things how they were. Marcassin avoided his companions' worried looks and the palace in general, spending most of his time taking bounties outside the city. The fighting distracted his mind. Besides, he had to pay back Oliver later anyways. He figured then was better than later.
But, Marcassin knew he had to confront them eventually. Lars owed them an explanation. Both his companions and Gascon.
—
Gascon ended up being first.
It had been the second night since the Emperor passed away. Lars was returning from another bounty killing spree to the guest room his brother had generously gifted them. However, a single guard awkwardly stopped him at the palace's entrance. Most of the guards had an unsure aura after his Father's death. The others were guilt-ridden and on leave.
"Prince Gascon requests your presence. You will follow me." The guard explained to a befuddled Lars, leaving no room for complaint. Lars was dimly led through the corridors until they reached the Emperor's Chambers. Though, the entire palace had a dim atmosphere to it those days. "Your Highness, the bounty hunter is here." The guard coughed.
"Enter." Gascon's voice granted, and it was painfully clear that the boy'd been crying recently. The doors opened and Lars was led inside. "Thank you, Finn. Now please, leave us. This conversation is a private one." Gascon ordered with more regal authority than Lars had ever heard from him in their youth. But, perhaps Gascon always had it in him, just never showing it when they were together. Or maybe grief matured them both by years.
It was unfortunate that the latter seemed much more likely.
"You wanted to speak to me?" Lars asked as the guards reluctantly departed. Though, he was sure they were gathering in front of the doors at the first sign of trouble. Gascon wordlessly motioned to the far side of the room where two chairs were planted. The older prince took his seat before pausing, as if considering his next words. Gascon studied his face, searching for… something.
"So… You're Marcassin… all grown up?" The prince slowly asked in a deathly quiet tone. His back was hunched while his hands were folded over his knees. Faint tear streaks remained on his ghastly cheeks. Lars loudly exhaled as he took the elaborate chair opposite his youthful elder brother.
"Of course you figured it out." He thought with a bitter laugh. "Yes, I am." He nodded, running his fingers over the edges of his wand. Lars didn't even bother asking how his brother knew.
"… Why did you leave?" Gascon whispered, voice breaking. Lars looked away, slowly unclasping his mask to reveal his face. The boy softly gaped at the sight.
"You read my letter." He brusquely stated.
"The letter wasn't enough, Marcassin." His brother scoffed, shaking his head.
"I was in a hurry… You were waking up and the group was coming back..." Lars half-heartedly defended. "But, that doesn't answer your question." He noted with a sigh.
"No, it doesn't." Gascon humourlessly laughed.
"It's like what I said on the Tombstone Trail. I was suffocating under the pressure of becoming the next Emperor. I just wanted to be a kid for once. I just wanted to hang out with you and Father." Lars quietly explained.
"Is that why you lied about being bad at magic?" His brother choked, chaining his eyes to the floor.
"… Yes." Lars visibly gulped. "I had fun practicing magic with you, Gascon. I didn't want that to stop… And… I was scared that you'd leave me if you believed I didn't need your help anymore…" He guiltily looked away.
"There was more to it than that." Gascon accused, meeting his gaze again. Lars blinked at him in shock. "Earlier, you started talking about how you felt bad that you were the reason I had to find a new role in the Empire or whatever…" He recalled, hurt flashing across his face. Lars turned away, standing to pace the chamber. The bounty hunter twirled his wand as he spoke.
"I never wanted to be the next Emperor… That was supposed to be your role… and I knew-I saw how you wanted it too! I felt so bad that you became so lost when we thought Father didn't want you to succeed him!" Lars frenetically moved his arms as his voice picked up speed. His face grew flustered. "So… in the heat of the moment… I thought it'd be better if I just left. It all made sense in my head. I'd be able to go have fun for once. You'd be able to become Emperor…" The bounty hunter explained before raising his palm at his incensed brother. "I know what you're going to say. And I know! I know I was wrong to think it'd be better!" Lars shouted to his brother's grim expression.
"Marcassin…" Gascon mumbled after a lengthy pause, at a loss for words.
"What's done is done... I'm sorry…" The bounty hunter shook his head, leaning against the wall. He wiped sweat from his brow. He hadn't been expecting to become so emotional in such little time.
"I'm sorry too…" His brother retorted, causing Lars to stare at him. "I'm sorry for never noticing what you were going through… I just wanted to prove myself to Father I forgot to look after my own brother..." Gascon scowled. "Hey, do things get better in the future? How long are you gone? You come back, right?" He begged for a happy ending.
"I don't want you to worry about the future so much, Gascon." Lars grumbled, stepping closer to him. Uncertainty stirred in his stomach. "But, things are getting better. When Oliver, Esther, Drippy, and I get back to our time at least." He hissed the latter sentence, tightening his grip on his wand.
"You're going after Father's murderer." Gascon correctly guessed.
"I am, and I will make him pay." Lars nodded, narrowing his eyes. His brother uncharacteristically hesitated before responding.
"I'm glad you grew up to be strong at least…" He conceded, though the worry never left his eyes.
—
Oliver, Esther, and Drippy he spoke to before their fated departure. Lars found them in the streets of Hamelin, sitting on a staircase and quietly conversing. He coughed to grab their attention.
"Hello, everyone…" Lars awkwardly greeted, twirling his wand behind his back.
"Lars!" Esther and Oliver shouted at the same time, causing a soft smile to form on his face. His pig mask was still on, and he fiddled with the clasp. The air was warm, but colder than he remembered of Hamelin. They'd turned the factories off as they mourned the late Emperor. Lars certainly didn't envy Gascon's position of having to address their citizens so soon after their Father's death.
"Not so loud, eh? Don't want to wake the street up." The bounty hunter tried to joke, receiving strangled chuckles in turn. "I'm sorry for worrying you all these past few days. It's been… hard." Lars apologized, small grin morphing into a frown.
"Oh, no! We understand completely! We were all shocked by… earlier. It must be harder since you lived here." Esther quickly appeased. And his heart warmed as he realized they wouldn't push for answers. Though, he'd give them anyways.
"Thank you, Esther. Really, thanks." Lars faintly smiled. "But, I'm afraid I haven't been the most honest with you three since we met." The bounty hunter sighed.
"No kidding." Drippy muttered and was ignored. The rest of the group fell silent, their eyes on his unsure form.
"As you may have guessed by now…" Lars slowly began, unclasping his pig mask and freeing his face from it. "My real name is Marcassin, second prince of Hamelin. And the current Emperor's younger brother." He revealed, watching their reactions. "You don't have to pretend to be surprised." The young man chuckled at their very obvious acting.
"So… everything you said on the Tombstone Trail?" Oliver asked, scratching the back of his head.
"Everything I said back then was true. I ran away for all the reasons already stated." Lars confirmed, oddly used to repeating his reasons after doing so with his Father and brother.
"Oi! Does this mean you knew about our flipping time travelling?" Drippy yelped, jumping in front of Lars' face to his amusement.
"It'd been fifteen years by the time we met in the future, and my mind was still hazy from being brokenhearted. Plus, I was focused on helping Gascon at the time. So, I'd forgotten until the fog rolled in." Lars explained with a shrug. "Speaking of, I have to apologize for something else. I wasn't open with my intentions from the start. I offered to help your group out in order to make sure Gascon was helped. For that, I am sorry." The young man cringed hearing the words from his own mouth.
"Your reason was good, Lars! We don't care!" Esther waived with an encouraging grin.
"Still, I was not entirely truthful with any of you." Lars went, though his smile had returned.
"It's fine!" Oliver earnestly insisted. "Wait, what do you want us to call you?" He asked out of the blue as they begin walking back towards the palace.
"Huh?" The bounty hunter blinked.
"Like, should we call you Lars or Marcassin?" The younger wizard clarified.
"Oh, Lars. Call me Lars." The former prince chose and that was that. A semblance of normality returned to their group's dynamic. However, they had to return to their time and save the future Gascon before Hamelin's soldiers tore through Al Mamoon. The group gathered in the atrium where the fog first transported them. Gascon and some guards watched as they prepared to cast Breach Time with glum faces.
"Make sure you defeat that bastard. Don't let him get away." His brother reminded as they moved into a circle formation.
"We will, Your Highness. We won't let him hurt anyone else." Oliver answered with conviction. The boy tugged at a locket on his person, having recently obtained restraint from Gerta of the Hamelin Archives. "Okay! All Together!" Oliver told the group.
"Right." They chorused.
"Goodbye. See you in the future." Gascon lazily waved, eyes glassy.
"Today, tomorrow, yesterday! Send us safely on our way!" The group chanted, a luminous blue glow enveloping them like a cyclone.
In a blink of an eye they were gone.
—
Author's Notes: I can't believe this was so long! Originally, I was going to end the chapter at the Emperor's death. Unfortunately for me, that would've made the next chapter too short… curses. Anyways, some other subjects! So, I hoped the name change with Lars and Marcassin came across okay! I liked the symbolism with the name fluctuations. Furthermore, I was tempted to cut the scene between Gascon and Marcassin talking in the chambers out. But, I came to the conclusion that it would've been out of character for Gascon to not confront Lars about it. If anyone's wondering why Gascon still sent missing posters out after talking to Lars. Well, he never gave a timeline for when he returned. So, Gascon decided to try and hurry it up!
Anyways, I hope you guys liked this very long chapter! Please tell me your thoughts below and have an amazing day! Until next time!