After agonising over this and wondering how best to end it, I'm very happy to say that Robin is finally out of Plegia! Many thanks to my wonderful beta newmrsdewinter and her fantastic keen eye (for taking out my numerous mistakes) and wonderful enthusiasm. This is gonna be a good one...
Tel Kharra was a bustling port city boasting the largest economy in the nation after Zuhsa (which was the proper name for the Walled City, Robin later discovered). Its main products came from the rich sea surrounding the peninsula that the settlement was built on, selling anything and everything from pearls the size of her fist to fish with skin that glowed at night. It was also the main port from which Plegia did trade with countries from across the ocean, such as Chon'sin, Rosanne, Valm, and the island kingdoms of Axum. From there came silk, spices, lacquer and gunpowder in exchange for Plegian ivory, gold, and wheat. Though commerce with Ylisse was forbidden outright and Regna Ferox only sent merchants from a few city-states, Robin and Henry saw people of many different complexions and manners during their brief stay.
Their plans to board a boat bound for the Valmese continent were dashed upon learning that Grimleal agents had been dispatched to inspect every moored vessel and building in the city. The official explanation was that they were searching for a pair of criminals who needed to be turned over to their council immediately. It was a depressing realisation, to see that Zuhsa was practically the only place in all of Plegia free from Grimleal influence. Not that Gangrel had not noticed, for despite Aversa's subtle influence, there were frequent street brawls between Grimleal and government forces, though the line between them was not very clear at times.
Only officials were allowed the use of wyverns. Fortunately, a kindly merchant from Chon'sin traded some of his horses for theirs and allowed them to spend the night in the stables adjacent to the consul's home. Unwilling to implicate him (and by extension, the Chon'sinese embassy in Plegia) in their plans should the Grimleal come knocking, they left before dawn without saying their goodbyes.
They began their journey joyously after having left the vicinity of the skull, talking, singing, marvelling at the open world around them. The sun and the heat made sure that they soon lost the energy for much except to find shade and a place to rest. Though they were able to reach the edge of the country without much incident, the reality of life in Tel Kharra forced them to turn back much more cautiously and draw up new travel plans.
Robin and Henry were to follow her mother's original course, travelling to Regna Ferox's eastern mountains. Going to the Great Lakes region of the north was out of the question due to it being located on the border and heavily inhabited, no doubt with many powerful Grimleal cells. The border with Regna Ferox was heavily fortified due to soured relations between the two countries—Gangrel was doing a fine job of antagonising their neighbours even without the influence of the Grimleal—but Ylisse was a traditional ally of the Feroxi and crossings between them were said to be much more relaxed. If passing into Regna Ferox was difficult, then it was impossible for Ylisse, given how much bad blood there was between them after the war some twenty-odd years ago and another conflict Gangrel tried and failed to spark. But seeing as they were being hunted...their best bet was to hope for a miracle. Once inside Ylisse, they could breathe easy and continue their way northeast undisturbed.
Circumventing the foothills of the Nwewero volcanoes was by far the easiest leg of the trip; the jungle was rich in water, fruit and game. Once past the savannah and back into the desert, the tougher ordeals began.
Despite autumn giving way to the rains of the winter season, the sun still proved an unforgiving presence, white-hot and cruel in its lofty perch and scorching the shifting sands. Robin and Henry were forced to veil their faces and protect the horses and the puppy ("Neferi, Robby, you gotta call her by her name now," Henry kept insisting) with rags soaked in the water that they had to ration even more due to the winter sandstorms and wind.
The puppy—"Neferi, Robin,"—proved to be much less of a burden than Robin had previously thought she would be. She was friendly, eager to please, and an excellent hunter who was skinny enough to slip into crevices in search of hares, snakes and lizards. They were roasted by wrapping the meat in the foil they brought and left to cook in the sun to avoid lighting fires at night. Once, she was able to find a pheasant sitting on her nest hidden within a rocky crag, and that night they dined on the delicious bird and its eggs. Robin did not mind that Neferi showed a marked preference for Henry as long as she carried her weight; still, Robin would be lying if she said she did not enjoy it when the gangly thing, growing faster every day, would sometimes come to her and expose her pink belly for a rub or beg for a good scratch behind the ears. Dogs were kind like that. Robin could see why Henry often preferred animals to other humans.
Henry served as a lookout by transforming into a vulture or a hawk, buoyed by the strong winter winds as he surveyed the landscape with his piercing eyes. Normally, Robin would urge him to not stay up for long, fearful of him being trapped in animal form should he stay transformed for too long a period, and sometimes he insisted on flying for hours on end. In light of a recent and very troubling development, today was not one of those days.
"They're back," Henry muttered as he landed back on his horse. "I have no idea how they got this close without me noticing."
Bandits were a common enough occurrence across the continent after the war left many desperate people turning to a life of crime. Many were former soldiers and mercenaries who found the thrill of bloodlust to be intoxicating and did not wish to lay down their swords, forming small armies and bands that pillaged their way across the three nations. The fighters who originally forced them and Mustafa into Regna Ferox were such an example. The people who had been tracking them numbered far fewer, though their presence was no less troubling.
"I hope this doesn't mean they have a warping stave at hand...or a far-seeing mage," Robin replied.
"What if they have a spyglass? Or two?" Henry was referring to the magicked lenses capable of amplifying sight across several thousand meters, or even between two completely different points on the earth. They were popular when in use for scrying or less savoury work such as espionage. And if that was the case…
"Then we can only hope we're fast enough to outrun them," Robin pronounced grimly and pulled the hood of her robe low. "Come on. The map says there's an abandoned village we could rest in for the night."
The thousandfur robe was a curious thing that made her uneasy, and yet she was surprised by how it continued to defy her expectations. Wearing artifacts of dark magic usually resulted in the bearer becoming evil, insane, or deathly ill through the loss of vital energy. Sometimes the thing would turn out to be the vessel for a djinni or a similar spirit that would then attempt to possess its wearer. The robe did none of those things—while Robin felt a surge of malicious thoughts and whispered insults, they were not hers: rather, she sensed them coming from the robe, and they were not directed towards her specifically but rather the world in general. After a time, it became similar to having a mean-spirited travelling companion and she learned to tune it out. The thousandfur robe, as though insulted from the sudden lack of attention, learned to behave to some extent.
For some curious reason, it also helped to keep some of her nightmares at bay and often alerted her to danger nearby. In fact, it had sensed the bandits several days before Henry had even sighted them; at first, Robin could not understand the little zing of worry she felt whenever the fabric stood on end like a frightened cat's fur, though she now knew to take its warnings seriously even if she found it difficult to understand at times.
The small party watched the bandits from inside a small high cave overlooking the village. True to her suspicions, it had proved wiser to move on ahead with the only warp staff they had and avoid the settlement entirely. No matter how much of a pain it had been trying to coax the two horses up the rocks and into the cave, seeing the thieves go door to door searching for them made it worth their while when it was clear they would leave empty-handed. Robin and Henry allowed themselves the small luxury of waking late the next day. They waited another cycling of the sun before peeking out from the cave entrance to see the village abandoned once more. Thus, they took stock of their belongings, resaddled the anxious horses, and set out on their way to the Midmire. The Dragon's Table (the most sacred of all Grimleal sites of worship) was never even approached even though it would have been far easier to snatch a camel from under a sleeping pilgrim's nose.
She dreamed very little and almost no visions came to her during that time.
The weather turned progressively colder and wetter the farther east they travelled and the closer to Ylisse they managed, and avoiding inhabited settlements became much more difficult. On several occasions, the duo found themselves having to skirt caravan routes from miles away or turn tail and run if nomads and their flocks of goats came by the stretch of land they travelled. Larger cities came into view again and they were nearly caught more than once while switching horses under the cover of night.
Poor, salty soil and higher terrain signified their arrival at the Midmire, a large stretch of marshland that had been the site of arduous combat years ago; it was here that her mother led numerous campaigns to victory with Mustafa as her capable lieutenant, and even now Robin could see the thousands of bones and discarded armour and broken chariots half-sunken into the mud. More impressive still were the remains of an enormous dragon's rib cage enclosing a vast amount of terrain.
"We cross this, and the gorge, and then there's only the plains left before Ylisse," Robin panted as she coaxed and cajoled her skittish horse down the slippery mountainside. Lightning flashed and cracked across the sky, and hard sheets of icy rain pelted them as they reached the bottom and began to tread mud. To make matters worse, Neferi would not stop barking at the lightning from her saddlebag, and the thousandfur robe was most definitely not waterproof.
"Hey, hey Robby! What's the difference between a horse and the rain? One is reined up and the other rains down!" Henry laughed. Perhaps he thought some jokes would lighten the mood, but all they did was give her a headache.
"Ooh, wait, I got another one — what do you call scary water? A — "
Robin spun to face him and her wet hair smacked her in the face. Henry giggling at her made her mood sink lower and she rubbed her aching temple. Though she loved him dearly, his persistent lightheartedness and banter throughout their entire journey had left her cross, then annoyed, then downright angered and she was finally unable to tolerate it any longer.
"Henry. Not. Now."
She stomped ahead with her boots making disgusting sloshing noises. Henry whispered "a rain of terror," a little dejectedly to himself.
Sinking in the mire was a very real threat. Most of their energy was spent pushing and pulling the horses through the muck, who pushed and pulled back with just as much vigour to avoid crossing the waterlogged terrain and the booming thunder above. Not that Robin could blame them, but there was no shelter to be seen anywhere close and night was almost upon them.
Bones crunched underfoot as they finally found a small rise with a mushroom rock where they could protect themselves from the rain to rest, if only for a short time. Most of that period was spent wringing out their clothes and hair, and emptying water from their shoes and their satchels. Robin was relieved that the tomes and her mother's notes had been spared damage from the rain, and with her mood a bit lighter, she allowed Henry to joke all he wanted while the horses nosed through their bags of feed gratefully. At least Neferi had stopped barking.
Somewhat restored, they continued the rest of the trek in silence.
When the gorge was distantly sighted through the thick fog, the dog began to growl and whine from her saddlebag.
"What is it girl?" Henry patted her worriedly.
"Henry," Robin warned calmly. "Get on the horse."
They were on the saddles in a flash and dug their heels into the horse's' sides—they too sensed the danger and did not complain as they were urged into a strong gallop, despite almost sinking in the marsh. The rain obscured their vision but they stayed on course, and soon the rotten bridge connecting the land separated by a gaping chasm came into clearer view.
A warp circle opened up right before them and the startled horses reared to a stop. Though only five bandits stepped into the mud, it was of little comfort seeing as they were obviously battle hardened veterans, armed to the teeth and hunger ablaze in their eyes. The woman who was presumably their leader was enormous. Her head was half shaved and her lip was cloven from an old injury, splitting wider as she grinned triumphantly.
"You two are slippery little eels, I'll give you that," her voice was soft and mocking, yet it still carried clearly over the rain and thunder. The four men moved unbidden to surround them from all sides.
"Henry...what do you have on you?" Robin whispered.
"Uh...Mire. I think it might get wet though."
"In a way, you should be flattered," the woman continued, completely unworried by their talk. "I've never seen a fatter meal ticket before in my entire life. You know how much they're offerin' for you?"
"Since it's raining, better stick to thunder magic. You think you can flash them?" Robin's eyes never left the bandit.
"Might hurt the horses' eyes though," Henry said.
"Twenty thousand in gold bullion," the leader smacked her lips. "And that's just for the boy."
Robin swore under her breath. "Then I guess we'll just have to do it the old fashioned way then."
"My mama always used to scold me for playin' with my food." the woman circled them appreciatively, predatory, muscles bunched and sinewy under the dirty sodden pelt draped over her painted shoulders. "But I hear a bit of exercise is good for buildin' up an appetite. So," she said, stopping before the bridge. With a sudden, brutal swing of her axe, a post holding up the ropes and planks was destroyed and the whole rotting structure was sent falling down to the bottom of the gorge. "Who wants to play catch?"
Robin surged forward with a bronze sword she had pulled from the recesses of her robe, cutting a long shallow wound into the bandit's exposed torso. Blood sprayed into her eyes along with rainwater, but she could care less as she freed a leg from a stirrup and delivered a satisfying kick to the leader's face; the bandit woman, caught unawares at the very end of her sentence, staggered back, but to Robin's astonishment proved resilient to the attack and made to grab her leg. Thus their fight was relegated to a game of keep-away as the thief repeatedly lunged for the reins and Robin parried her axe and kept the panicked horse circling.
Time became impossible to tell as the lightning, wind, and clang of metal on metal drowned out all else.
Henry was occupied fending off the other men and keeping them from Robin with increasing difficulty as his mount repeatedly slipped in the mire and made his movements sloppy. At the rate he was going, it was only a matter of time before one of the bandits either pulled him off the saddle or landed a lucky strike, whichever came first.
So Robin made the decision to break away from the leader and came barrelling to Henry's aid, knocking two bandits aside as she pulled on the reins to his horse and led them back in the direction they came from, the thieves in hot pursuit yet unable to keep up with the horses in the rain and the mud.
"Henry!" she tried to shout over the tempest. "We're going to have to make the jump!"
"Robby, I know you're real good at planning and stuff but I think dying is best left to types like me!"
"It's the only way to get rid of them! Do you honestly want to spend more time in the storm here with no shelter to hide us from them?"
Though he was still grinning widely, Henry had no reply.
"Henry, we're going to have to do something now!" The horses were tiring, the bandits were gaining.
"...I mean, since you're the expert and all, I just hope that dying will feel as good as I imagined it."
The duo turned their horses abruptly in the hopes that their speed would gain them enough traction in spite of the water and mud, throwing down two men who had stopped in their tracks in total surprise to see their return. The others slipped in their failed attempts to catch them, and soon the gorge loomed through the mist once more.
"Oh no you don't!" The bandit woman, strong and infuriated, powered through the storm on her tree-trunk legs and pulled up to Henry's side. "This is the last night we go hungry!"
Urging their horses through the rain, they took the leap and sailed off the rocky edge with the wind at their backs and the terrible vastness of the chasm yawning open as though anticipating their fall in the hopes of swallowing them whole. Robin's pounding heartbeat was the only thing she could hear. For a single, terrible moment, she was rendered blind by the fog.
A crow's shriek pierced through and Robin craned her neck behind to see the bandit woman clinging to the rump of Henry's horse and dragging them down due to her sheer mass; Henry quickly took flight in spite of the rain weighing down his feathers and the bandit grasping at him, and the last glimpse they ever had of the woman was surprise softening the lines of her hardened face before she and the horse were lost forever to the bottom of the gorge with one last scream.
Their landing was swift, brutal. The horse's legs buckled under their combined weight as it crashed hard onto the lip of a shallow cave jutting out of the face of the rock and Robin flew off the animal and rolled onto her side painfully, stars bursting in her eyesight as her head bounced off the wet floor with a loud crack. Judging by Neferi's furious barking, the landing had not hurt her—a quick check after releasing her from her saddlebag revealed no injuries other than just being shaken from their jump. Henry had landed shortly after them, soaked to the bone and laughing hysterically. Upon a closer examination, she realised that the water pooling at his feet was mixed with blood and she patted him down worriedly until reaching his neck. The bandit had left small but deep gashes at his nape with her blunt nails and, having taken his shirt off, a long ragged wound that was no doubt made with the edge of a sword was revealed. Robin could glimpse the pale grey-lilac of bone peeking through the mess.
Henry gasped when he was touched. "Ow! Shit! Robby, that really hurts!" His laughter quavered.
Robin froze. "Henry—I'm sorry I hurt you, I—you've never cursed before," she stammered.
"That's 'cause I prefer hexing, nya ha ha—"
"Henry, stop laughing and be serious for once!"
Her scream echoed loudly. Henry's smile faltered just the tiniest bit at the edges; now it did not look so natural on his face, now she felt guiltier than ever. He was only trying to help, his entire reason here was to be at her side, and all she had done recently was treat him like a nuisance when his wounds were the result of taking on four armed men for her sake, when it was not his fault that the weather was so uncooperative, nor that bandits had nearly succeeded in ambushing them…
With one horse gone, they had lost half their supplies. Whatever they had left in the other packs was dwindling fast, and though spring was approaching, it meant little unless they could find more food and water to get them through the end of the season. To her dismay, rummaging through the bags only turned up two bottled potions and a single healing staff. Robin cursed her stupidity: if she was supposed to be charged with the logistics of their journey and had several years of experience under Mustafa's tutelage in the wild, then how could she have missed something as dire as no medicine? How could she be so ignorant as to assume they would have been able to cross the Midmire safely and be able to restock before arriving in Ylisse?
Stupid, the robe agreed maliciously.
"Don't use it on me," Henry said. He was too serious, too soft, and Robin remembered the first year they had in the company of this frightened, feral child who only spoke in growls and grunts until they had proved their trustworthiness to him. His purple brown eyes were fixed on the prone horse. The poor beast was very quiet and its eyes were glazed over from the pain of its shattered legs.
"Oh, Henry...you know staffs and staves can't heal broken bones."
"Please…"
"Gods Henry, I wish I could, I know you especially do. Even if they did...there's no way he can climb out of here."
The storm roared outside. Henry refused to look her in the eyes, instead focusing on the horse's shallow breathing and scratching the small of his back where the dried blood had begun to itch.
"Sometimes, I really hate it when you're right." He would still not look at her. "Just...give me some time—alone."
She fetched their remaining bowl from the pack and left the safety of the cave's interior to collect rainwater, soon filling it up and giving it to Neferi to drink before gathering more to clean Henry's wounds. He sat with his torn back to the cave entrance with the horse's head in his lap. His whispers were soft, crooning, and he stroked its muzzle with so much love that it broke her heart to see their pain. Robin did not look away as he used a hex to slit its throat quickly and soon his trousers absorbed so much blood that it seemed as though he wore scarlet.
Robin sat beside him quietly and set to work by mixing in the contents of one bottle into the water. She used the saddle blanket as a rag to dip into the solution and clean his mangled skin before using the staff to knit his body closed. Her next task was to remove the rest of his clothes and set them out in the entrance to soak clean as she mopped up the blood from the stone floor, divesting the dead animal of its carrying packs and organising what little contents they had left, if only to take inventory and calculate how long they had until they ran out of food. The last of their fuel was used up for the fire and Robin sat close to Henry in their last change of clean clothing wrapped snug in the only blanket they had left.
She tried to break the silence. "Those men are still waiting for us out there."
Henry stared into the fire and allowed Neferi to crawl into his lap. He did not respond.
The rest of the night was spent in such a fashion. Their belongings (two waterskins, the Mire tome Henry had in his robes, twine, foil, a quarter loaf of bread, a parcel of dried fruit, oil, wheat, and their mokeskins) were scattered about in an attempt to have them dry quickly by the crackling fire. Soon their stomachs were growling in protest, but she was loath to use up what little they had at the moment.
"Cut him open," Henry said dully. The puppy had stopped whimpering, having fallen asleep by his side. "He can do one last thing for us."
There were no flies that could have swarmed over its corpse, thankfully, and though the horse was stiffening up in its journey further into death, its hide proved malleable enough as its belly was sliced open and its cold, marbled guts spilled over. Both stuck their hands inside and channeled fire magic to cook it thoroughly. Robin felt extremely guilty to admit that it smelled incredibly appetising as its innards began to steam, and pulling out her hands revealed them to be soaked in its blood and juices.
Henry simply put his mouth to the flesh and tore strips off (as though he were a wolf, Robin mused), sharing the liver and the intestines with Neferi. The trio gorged themselves on the dead animal in the anticipation of lean days ahead, as there was no possible way to cure and preserve anything when they had no more salt and not enough kindling to smoke meat—however appreciative they were of the opportunity afforded to them, the circumstances of the Midmire and the horse's sacrifice weighed heavily on their minds. After managing to crack a few ribs open to suck the marrow out, Henry presented her with its heart.
Robin bristled. The last time she eat heart was at her wedding banquet. Every new mother needs to be well nourished, Validar had explained with that predatory smile.
"For all of us." She closed her hands over his, holding onto the bloody organ. "We all need to keep out strength up."
However well-fed she was, her heart was heavy with worry. The fire had died down to its last embers and the three had curled up by its side after pushing the carcass out the cave and off into the abyss to join its companion and the bandit woman. Several times, Robin had ventured out to the lip of the cave to scout briefly now that the rains had cleared and the moon shone bone-white over the bleakness of the marsh, with the forms of the thieves waiting for them back on the other side starkly illuminated.
Returning to sleep was difficult when she was plagued by nightmares of falling into the gorge.
They left the very next morning, climbing up the steep rock face with the rising of the sun at their faces. Pushing a horse up, much less two, would have been impossible, yet the weight of their satchels on their backs proved as cumbersome as the stares of the thieves burning into them as they finally made their way up and continued farther east.
Without the horses, the trek was very difficult, and tripping over the wet stony land became a common hazard, often having to carry Neferi on their backs due to the rocks and pebbles cutting her paws. Within the week, they ran out of food and resorted to trying to snatch lizards, sparrows, and soon smaller and smaller game as the terrain transitioned to scrubby plains with not even a rabbit in sight. With the arrival of spring, the winter rains no longer filled their waterskins and the threat of thirst so close to the border jeopardised their safe passage. Robin and Henry grew lean and weak and nervous.
On the second week of spring they found themselves hiding behind a large rock and peeking out over the large border post that stood between them and freedom. Blooms of poppies and cosmos that grew after the rains made for valuable cover in the meadow as they ducked low and watched soldiers in blue armour file in neatly after a roll call.
Henry licked his parched lips. "They don't look to be too many...maybe we can try to sneak by."
"With that watchtower of theirs, not likely. And they've got at least three pairs still outside."
Hunger and thirst made them sluggish and despondent. They were this close to leaving the Grimleal behind...the promise of a new life was just within their grasp, and yet, fatigue sapped the strength not just from their bodies, but from their morale. Despite the wealth of arms within their mokeskins, fighting in their state would have been suicidal.
"I don't suppose we can just take a nap and wait until night? Maybe dying in my sleep would feel better," Henry yawned and leaned against the sun-warmed rock.
I'll take you up on that offer, Robin almost wanted to say. And yet...the voice she had conjured up for her mother's reassuring words spoke to her. You can do it darling. It's just ahead. Don't give up yet. And she remembered the sacrifices Noam and Mustafa made for her sake, and her longing for them turned her heartache into the tiniest bit of courage.
"We can't give up yet, not when it's just up ahead." Robin held his hand in hers. "Even if we have to wait a week until they change the guard, we'll cross somehow. We came all this way, didn't we?" She smiled wanly.
"...Yeah, we did. If I don't die first, this'll make for a great memoir to sell."
The incident at the gorge had taught Robin, too late, that water cancelled out the effects of the thousandfur robe (which, in retrospect, came as no surprise, seeing as rain or running water was often employed against dark magicks or dangerous creatures such as vampires or wraiths), explaining why it had not warned her of the bandits nor had she sensed the robe's presence afterwards. Now, the sharp tingle she felt all over her skin coincided with the loud blast of a horn from the border post.
"Henry!" Robin warned and pressed him further into the rock with an outstretched hand. To the west, a rising dust cloud heralded a horde of at least forty strong—barbarians and myrmidons, all heavily armed and the bloodlust in their faces evident even at a distance. The man who was obviously their leader was draped in an enormous bear pelt, bare-chested, heavily scarred, burly with muscle. Another, presumably his second in command, stopped dead by his side.
A spyglass glinted in the sunlight from where it was attached to his hip. Very slowly, very deliberately so that they could see him, the bandit pointed straight to their hiding place.
Pegasus dung.
Hiding was no longer an option. Grabbing the back of his shirt, Robin hauled Henry up to his feet with all the strength she could muster and scooped the dog up in her arms, sprinting as fast as they could to the base, Ylisseans be damned.
A hellfire of arrows rained upon the meadow with the hoots and shouts of bandits streaming eagerly down the hill, with an answering volley from the Ylisseans barely touching them as Robin urged her legs to keep going, to not fail her at such a crucial moment and get them across the border. Henry's sweaty clammy hand was clamped over hers and in constant danger of slipping away as they managed to sidestep more than one close call from the arrows and from stumbling down their steep climb.
Horsemen and infantry from the border post were released onto the field with a mighty roar from the horn, brandishing spears and axes that gleamed in the sun and responded in kind to their adversaries before them, twisting, stabbing, slashing—blood sang in the air and the thousandfur robe pulsed in greedy anticipation. Tactician! it crowed to her.
Robin threw them to the grass just as a horse nearly trampled them underfoot. The soldier astride its back pulled his lance from a barbarian's neck with a loud gush of blood. "Watch it!" he yelled before diving back into the fray.
There! With the battle underway, the border fence was yet guarded, though the soldiers manning it were focused on the rogues and not on them.
"Hurry!" Robin shouted. Just a little further and—!
Icy horror killed her train of thought as the trio found themselves surrounded by a tight circle of bandits. The smirking rogues were not great in number, but Robin and Henry were in no condition to fight them all and win. A small opening was created and their leader stepped in to face them, murder in his face. "I don't care if the bounty asked for you little punks alive," he cracked his jaw and spat threateningly into the grass. "All the gold in the world won't pay for what you did to Freda." He snapped his fingers. "Tie 'em up. Once we got 'em, we can leave this shithole behind."
"No!" Robin shrieked and bit the hand that touched her, raking her nails across another's arm and drawing blood. "Don't touch him! Don't you dare touch him!" Fire lit her veins in spite of her weakened state, anger burned her skin when they tried to pry Henry from her and kicked Neferi away when she threatened to bite them as well. "Henry, you can't let go!"
"We don't got time for this," a wiry man grumbled and smashed his club into their hands: once, twice, three more times before their fingers buckled, and he swung it into her face for good measure. Robin choked on the blood that filled her mouth.
She screamed and kicked uselessly into the air as she was lifted onto her back. An order was barked out to restrain her, dozen of filthy, scabby hands swarming over her, carrying her farther from Henry and silencing her pleas. Everything ached under their rough touch. Ropes were tightened over her stomach, around her wrists. A hand dove between her legs to secure a knot and—
And she was suddenly on the ground and running so fast that the wind and her heartbeat roared in her ears and drowned out the sounds of dying men and barking and the smell of ozone burning the air, the land blurred through her tearful eyes and she could distinguish nothing but colour and light as her shaking legs carried her far, far away and her body felt unbearably light through it all.
Robin's surroundings were immediately unfamiliar when she came to a dead stop. Long gray-green grass, sparse trees, and a few white flowers had replaced the beautiful meadow and its carnage. Neferi had somehow managed to keep up with her. Both panted wearily, realising with dread that they had left Henry behind...it was too much in too little time. Soon, the lack of nourishment, the months of hard travel, and the jarring loss she felt with Henry's absence caught up to Robin, who promptly keeled back and fell unconscious to the ground.
She was back in the darkened arena under the desert. She dreamt of Validar, with his wicked, predatory grin, laughing. He demeaned her and demanded her return in the same breath, parrying her magic with almost effortless cruelty.
And yet...she was not alone. Robin was hard pressed to tell if she had ever seen the swordsman before in her life, yet his blade was sharp and his strikes rang true as the blessed sword repelled Validar's magic. Are you alright? his voice was concerned, yet his smile reassuring, warm against the chill of their stony prison. We'll get through this. I know we can, he declared confidently before rushing back to face Validar head on. Their shouts and bursts of light echoed throughout. Robin was in a daze, recognising that none of that was real—and yet, it was no dream either.
Why am I seeing this? she thought, and the environment soon melted into soft, dark warmth that cocooned her injured body. She wondered if this was what a womb felt like.
Saw them, the voice of the thousandfur robe spoke out. Saw them close. Help coming, it said vehemently. Help coming soon. Friends.
Friends, Robin repeated tiredly before she slipped back into a brief sleep.
And then:
"Chrom, we have to do something!"
After seven chapters of being asked when our prince in shining armour finally shows up, his first appearance is...once sentence! But don't worry guys; next chapter is his POV. Until next time!