Chapter 7
Robin let out an irritated groan as he finally splashed into the shallow basin of muck and fetid water at the end of the pipe leading out of Themis, the unpleasant sensation of the mud going over the top of and into his high boots yet another added to the list of things he'd never wanted to experience in his life.
"Clear the way!" Gaius chuckled, hopping down after him.
Robin hissed as he was splattered with more of the mud, glaring at the thief who was grinning innocently.
"What?" Gaius shrugged.
With a sigh Robin pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stifle the headache that had dawned on him since Maris had dropped on them on his big black Grima-infused gryphon. As he trudged to the edge of the shallow pool, one hand ensuring that his spellbook and rapier were still in place after the slide down the pipes, he noticed a small figure hunched over near the bank. Arya crouched, unmoving and silent with her back turned to them. Exchanging a worried glance with Gaius Robin quickened his gait, reaching her side and gently laying a hand on the girl's shoulder.
Arya leapt to her feet, eyes wild as she clutched the sheaf of papers Robin and Gaius had given her to her chest as if they were a shield.
"Hey, hey," Robin soothed her. "It's us. It's Robin and Gaius. We're safe. Arya, it's okay."
He gripped the girl's shoulders so that she couldn't flee, and after a few seconds of half-hearted struggle and desperate moaning the light came back to Arya's eyes, the sound of her name seeming to snap her out of it. She blinked a few times up at Robin, smiling encouragingly down at her as tears began to well in the corners of her eyes.
"You did well tonight," he said gently.
Arya nodded, her lip quivering for a moment before she threw herself into Robin's chest and burst into tears. The tactician let a breath out of his nose, rubbing Arya's back until she calmed and wondering just what in the hell that the Rommels had done to her. Gaius stood watch, perched on top of the pipe and sucking on one of his ever-present sugar-pops, politely averting his eyes until Arya had quieted.
"You good now?" Robin asked as kindly as he could.
Arya sniffled and nodded, still gripping the papers for dear life.
"I-I'm sorry," she muttered. "I kinda… lost it there."
"It's okay, kid," Robin said. "I'm not going to hold it against you. You did well tonight, and that's the truth. But now you have a decision to make."
She looked up at Robin from underneath her fringe nervously, much the way Tharja had used to he noticed absently.
"I'm not going to hold you to anything," he explained. "But we can't stay in this city any longer now. So you have two choices here. Option one, I give you a bag of coins the size of your head as payment for services rendered this evening, we escort you to the border and then we go our separate ways."
Arya nodded, hiccupping a little as she waited for Robin to continue.
"Or two," he went on after a moment of thought, "You come with us. You train with me to be a tactician, and you never look back."
"I… I don't know if I can," Arya admitted meekly, averting her eyes.
Robin nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"It's up to you," he said. "Honestly, I can't make you great. I can't make you powerful. All I can do is give you the tools to do it yourself. If you don't have the will to become more than you ever imagined you could be, and if you don't have the strength to be someone that bears the lives of thousands of others on her shoulders, then this life isn't for you."
Arya looked up at him again, eyes widening slightly.
"But," Robin went on. "I think you do have those things. I can't force you. All I can do is give you the choice. And tell you that I wouldn't change this life for any other in the world."
Arya nodded slowly, looking down and taking a deep breath.
"I want to be… more than this," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "I don't want to be… weak anymore. I don't want anyone else… to suffer like I have. I want to save people. I want to be a tactician."
Robin smiled as he crossed his arms and sunk to a hip.
"Then by all means, feel free to join our merry band," he said, his tone light. "But just know that the bag-of-coins-the-size-of-your-head boat has forever set sail."
"Do we even have that much cash?" Gaius asked from his perch, still scanning the surroundings.
"That's what I keep you around for," Robin laughed. "'Aggressive Procurement Strategies' are your expertise, right?"
"And I do so love my job," Gaius grinned over his shoulder, brushing his coat back from his side to reveal an exquisitely carved statue of Naga.
Robin let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head.
"Now just who do you intend to sell that to in Plegia?" the tactician asked. "Or do you plan to carry it around until we're back in Ylisse?"
"I know a guy," Gaius shrugged.
"Everyone still alive?" Robin called out as he stepped into the campground.
Or, he amended himself, what was left of it. The fire pit they had been cooking over the last few days had been smothered and the rocks that had circled it returned to the bushes, while the tents and wagon had all been packed away. Clearly his little group had been the last to arrive; the sewer pipe they had followed had brought them out near the opposite side of the city, so it had taken most of the morning to make it back to the camp. Arya's ill health had made it slow going, too; they had fed the girl, but a few meals didn't quite make up for a lifetime of hardship, and she had needed to rest regularly.
The others all glanced up as he, Gaius and Arya reappeared, Panne rushing forward to her mate. The others continued their work breaking camp, except for Lucina, Brady and the two wolf-shape-shifters. Kowrowa stood over Brady and Ita as the priest healed a nasty looking wound in the snarling woman's arm, her ears flat to her head as she glared at everyone and everything around her. The Taguel pulled back once she got closer to Gaius, making a sour expression.
"You stink," she said, maintaining her distance.
"Ouch," Gaius sighed.
"We'll have time to bathe once we hit the border," Robin laughed. "All of us."
Lucina stepped forward as the others burst back into renewed action loading the last of their supplies and covering their tracks. She looked down at Arya, still hugging the documents to her chest, wide-eyed and clearly feeling out of place among the veterans.
"All of us?" she asked, pointedly looking at the girl.
Robin nodded, slapping Arya lightly on the back.
"All of us," he repeated with a paternal smile. "Galle! Front and center!"
The Plegian tactician glanced up from where he was tying the bedrolls together on the back of the cart, Mari seamlessly taking his place as he jogged over to his old teacher.
"Yes?" he asked, casting a questioning glance at Arya.
"She's your problem now," Robin said simply, indicating Arya with his thumb. "Or at least until we hit the border."
"What?" they both asked in unison.
"Why me?" Galle went on, frowning as Arya looked on silently.
"Because you were my best, if also grumpiest, student," Robin explained. "But more importantly, you're Plegian. Birds of a feather and all that. Look, when you signed up you agreed to take my orders. I'm making it an order."
With that Robin took Lucina's arm and led her away, leaving Galle and Arya looking uncomfortably at each other as the rest of the group made ready to depart.
"Thanks for saving me in the city," Arya mumbled eventually.
"Don't make me regret it," Galle said brusquely, turning on his heel. "Come on. You can help me and Mari get the bedrolls secured."
Mari'ko glanced up as she heard her name, standing next to the obviously well-secured bedrolls on the back of the wagon, her face as impassive as always.
"Okay, we can pretend to secure the bedrolls while Mari makes us look bad," Galle sighed.
"Right!" Arya said, jogging to catch up with the older Plegian's longer gait. "Can you teach me that cool green glowy thing you did back in the city?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No," Galle repeated before coming to a stop and turning to look back at her. "Maybe. Depends."
"On what?"
"On what Lady Tharja says about your magical aptitude," Galle shrugged, moving to join Mari'ko.
Maribelle stifled a yawn as she strode through the halls of the Duke's Villa in Themis, her features set in a severe frown.
The noblewoman had long ago given up the title of Duchess for that of a simple magistrate, quickly becoming one of the most influential in the region despite her young age, one of only three High-Magistrates in all of Ylisse. The current Duke, Roark, was her second cousin and had been her Father's right-hand man before his death; he was also a famed military leader, and had personally led Themis' troops through every major campaign since Duke Themis' death in Plegia.
It seemed like an eternity now since her father had died, but Maribelle still felt his loss as keenly as if it had happened yesterday. The feeling of injustice she had experienced at the way he had been murdered by the late King Gangrel had been the largest driving force behind her decision to become a magistrate, which had until then been something of a childish fantasy.
Beneath her black robes of office Maribelle had traded her old pink riding clothes for a more subdued dress of cream and white, a pink ribbon tying the outfit together beneath the robes. It had been her precious friend Lissa who had said she looked best in pink, and Maribelle had made sure to always have the colour on her ever since.
"Good morning, High-Magistrate," one of Roark's men greeted her as she strode into the Villa's audience chamber.
"Good morning, cousin," Roark called from behind a mountain of papers on his desk.
"What is so important you had to drag me down here first thing in the morning?" Maribelle asked impatiently. "I had to postpone three hearings to meet with you."
"Nice to see you, too," Roark sighed. "There was a number of disturbances last night. One in the markets, one at the City Guard garrison, and the last at the Rommel Estate."
The Duke looked tired, the skin around his one good eye sallow and dark. He had grown a small goatee recently, his dark hair matching the black leather of his eyepatch surprisingly well in Maribelle's mind. He still cut a dashing figure in his Commander's tunic, despite having given the rank away since 'retiring' after Grima's defeat five years ago.
"This hardly seems to warrant the attention of Themis' High Magistrate," Maribelle said. "And if the courts deem it worth my attention I will deal with it then."
Usually she dealt with the worst crimes; murders, rapes, things that cost or ruined lives. Occasionally she still presided over smaller matters, but Roark knew damn well that she was busy.
With a mental sigh Maribelle berated herself for cursing in her head; another bad habit picked up from her time-travelling son, Brady.
"Well, I thought it was kind of funny," Roark said, standing and glaring at her with his one good eye, "That your son has been missing from the Ylissean court for nearly six months now. About the same amount of time that Robin has been shut up in Ylisstol, recovering after the incident in the north."
"Brady is a grown man," Maribelle scoffed. "And what Robin does is no concern of mine anymore. We both stopped being Shepherds years ago."
Roark sighed and sank back into his chair, leaning back and looking at the ceiling for a moment.
"I apologize for my tone," Roark said. "But the perpetrators have all disappeared, and I have representatives from the Rommel family breathing down my neck to punish someone for the attack."
Maribelle nodded.
"Apology accepted, dear cousin," Maribelle said graciously. "You must join us for tea sometime soon. Kellam does so love your company, and little Brady would be thrilled."
Roark nodded, running a hand through his thick dark hair.
"Of course," he agreed. "It has been far too long. Perhaps this weekend?"
Maribelle nodded, smiling a little.
"Then if you will excuse me, Duke Roark," she said with a bow, turning and striding from the room.
"Of course, High Magistrate," Roark called after her, the grin evident in his tone.
A momentary smile rose to Maribelle's face before it was quashed beneath the weight of her irritation. Someone would be getting a very angry letter, followed by some very intense etiquette reminder-lessons once she got her hands on them.
"I swear that man is such a bad influence on my Brady," she muttered to herself as she strode back towards her waiting carriage.
Idallia swallowed as she stepped from the carriage into her Villa's stables, her wide eyes surveying the wreckage around her as the coachmen went about looking for somewhere to secure the horses. The stables were a separate building to the main Villa, more a shack built off one of the Villa's walls above the storm water drain for ease of cleaning than anything else. What was left of it lay piled to one side, the remnants of posts still sticking up from the ground, splintered wood still lying about the area in forlorn piles.
"Watch your step, mistress," Hin'rath said in his usual monotone, appearing at her shoulder. "We have yet to begin the reconstruction, so there is still debris."
Idallia nodded mutely, turning to look up at her assistant and steward and letting out a horrified gasp. Half of his face was a purple mask of swollen bruises, his right eye a bloodshot red orb in a swollen slit of his socket. He gave a little grimace as he corrected his posture before bowing to her as if nothing were amiss.
"Hin'rath, what happened to you!?" she asked aghast.
The man winced again, keeping his head lowered.
"There was an incident while you were gone," he reported. "Documents were stolen, mistress. We may have been compromised."
"And these… thieves did this to my stables and your face?" Idallia asked, shock beginning to give way to anger.
Maris had gone ahead atop his gryphon because 'something was bothering him'. He should have been back days ago, early enough to prevent-
"Your brother…" Hin'rath began, cutting off Idallia's thoughts but trailing off without saying anything further.
Idallia froze. She had never heard that waver in Hin'rath's voice before.
"What has Maris done?" she asked, her anger giving way to white-hot fury.
She found her brother reclining in her office, his booted feet up on her polished desk as he sipped from one of her favorite crystal glasses, no doubt full of her most expensive brandy.
"Ah, sister," he said, glancing up. "What took you so long? I've been here cleaning up the… you look… upset."
"You're damn right I am!" Idallia roared, slamming her hands down on her desk so hard they went numb. "You… you… what the hell were you thinking!?"
"Can you be a little more specific?" Maris asked, arching a brow.
"Hin'rath," Idallia ground out through gritted teeth.
"Ah, the clerk," Maris said dismissively. "He messed up everything he did while we were gone. He's lucky I didn't kill him."
"We. Are. Merchants!" Idallia screamed, her voice becoming shrill. "You're not a soldier anymore and you're not fighting a war! We don't kill people willy-nilly because we feel like it! Hin'rath is important! That mage at Alvin's orchard was important! Everyone we employ serves a purpose and if you can't control yourself I will take actions to stop you! Right now you are the one messing up our operation, not them!"
The silence that followed Idallia's rant was deafening. Maris sat, stunned as his sister's shoulders rose and fell, the older Rommel panting from the exertion of her threat. Idallia's hair hung over her face as she looked down, still quivering with rage.
"You've never spoken to me like that before," Maris said, still shocked.
"And get your damn boots off my desk," Idallia added, glaring up at him through her fringe.
Maris nodded meekly, the big man dropping his feet heavily to the floor as his sister composed herself.
"I'm… I'm sorry, sister," he said quietly. "I've… ever since Nauta…"
Maris lowered his head, clasping his hands in his lap and closing in on himself in what Idallia knew was shame.
"I know," she sighed, moving to her brother's side.
Gently she took her brother's head and held him in a close hug, stroking his hair.
"It's that damn tactician's fault!" Maris whimpered. "He… he did this to me!"
Idallia nodded, knowing without looking that Maris was indicating to his brand, forever scarred on his face.
"I know," Idallia said soothingly, hushing him. "It's okay. I'm here."
"Thank you, sister," Maris sniffled, gripping Idallia's hand where it rested on his shoulder. "If I didn't have you on my side I… I don't know what I'd do."
Idallia nodded silently, holding her damaged brother and waiting for him to calm himself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hin'rath retreat from the open doorway, the image of her clerk palming one of his throwing knives burning itself into her memory as she realized that everyone saw her brother as a dangerous monster.
And she wasn't entirely sure they were wrong any more.
Arya yawned as she sat up, blinking her bleary eyes clear and looking around at familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings. She was back home, in Plegia. The desert was a testament to that. But she wasn't sure where exactly this oasis was. On either side of her Lucina and Severa slept, Mari'ko not far away while Anna and Fae's bedrolls were empty. A few meters away, on the other side of the merchant's wagon and the cooking fire, the boys were still sleeping, while Kowrowa and Ita were curled up in their wolf-forms near the fire.
Arya found it interesting, she reflected as she pulled her knees up to her chin and sat watching Anna prepare breakfast, that she had fallen into a routine with these people in such a short span of time. She trained and studied with Robin and Lucina most of the day, joked with Fae at every opportunity, talked with Gaius and Anna about their old stories, ate with everyone, slept with everyone, all the while with Galle watching over her like a surly-faced and grumpy gargoyle… In her short life she had never been happier. She was wary of letting her guard down too much and trusting the 'Shepherds', but something told her they were the real deal. That it was really Robin, and the greatest Plegian hero in history was really training her to be a tactician, like him.
The thought choked her up a little. Shaking her head clear Arya rose to her feet, stretching and deciding to clear her head with a walk.
She could do without the shape-shifters and Ylisseans, though. Arya didn't quite know what to make of the three shape-shifters, and after the abuse she'd suffered in Themis she was still automatically nervous around the Ylisseans. She knew that they wouldn't harm her, but there was a small part of her brain she couldn't silence, one that screamed distrust.
Arya shuffled out of her bedroll, pulling her new boots on and stretching again. The boots had been the first of many things she had been provided, all of it 'going on Robin's tab' according to Anna. She decided that it was warm enough to forgo her cloak and headed down to the oasis' waterfront in her sleeveless tunic and pants. As soon as she came into view of the water she spotted her teacher kneeling down next to the water, clearly freshly risen himself if the unruly mass of tangled hair atop his head was any indication. Robin glanced up as he heard her approaching, giving the girl a tired grin.
"Mornin' kid," he mumbled before turning back to the water.
He splashed his face a few more times with the cool water, still bracing after the chill desert night, before rising and yawning, beginning to run his fingers through his long white locks in an attempt to neaten them before his wife took notice. It always made Arya laugh uncontrollably, and most of the rest of the group too, when Lucina pinned Robin and brushed his hair.
"Good morning," she said, her greeting becoming a wide yawn of her own.
"Yeah, yawns are like bad ideas," Robin scoffed, shaking the water droplets from his messy white hair. "They're contagious. Hope you're ready for a fun day of walking, because we've got a ways to go before we hit Grima's Fall, and I want to be there by nightfall."
Arya nodded as Robin walked back to the camp, yawning a few more times before he was out of sight.
The girl furrowed her brow in thought as she knelt down to the crystal clear water, hesitating to sink her hands into it as she caught sight of her reflection. She sighed, rubbing at the small scar that split her cheek as she looked at herself. After a few days of Brady's careful ministrations her cheeks weren't as sallow anymore, and her eyes weren't sunken. Her skin was starting to look less like ash, too. Anna and Fae had fussed over her relentlessly once they were away from Themis, doing her hair and cleaning her up. At Anna's urging she was wearing her hair in two small pigtails, which she had to admit looked kind of nice. It was another one of those things she had never bothered about before; she had always been too young to work in a brothel, so she'd never bothered with her appearance.
Arya winced as memories of her time spent in Themis' slums resurfaced, roughly submerging her hands in the water and splashing it on her face.
It had been just like they had always said; the Ylisseans had been cruel. The Ylisseans had been merciless. They had hated her just for being Plegian. But… then she had met Van and Anna, Lucina and Brady. They weren't bad people. They had been unceasingly kind to her. But she still couldn't bring herself to trust them.
With another sigh she let herself fall back into a sitting position, thinking. She had left Plegia to find out the truth about Grima, something she had never told anyone before. An impulsive move, sure, and not quite a solid reason, but she had been young, and after the war her parents had been gone. She had wanted to know more about this entity that she had been raised to revere, and then stolen her life from her.
"Whatcha' thinkin''bout?" Fae asked, suddenly appearing at Arya's side.
Fae grinned as the other girl jumped, leaning at an angle so her long dark purple hair hung down at a right-angle to her head. With a laugh Fae settled onto the ground next to Arya, smiling at her all the while.
"I was… just thinking," Arya shrugged.
Fae nodded, propping her chin up on her hand.
"Well…" Arya muttered, looking away.
"Was it about Grima?" Fae asked suddenly.
Arya's head snapped around, her eyes wide as she goggled at the other girl.
"How did you-"
"A lot of Plegians are really hung up on it," Fae shrugged. "And fortunately you've got the best people to ask about it right over there. So stop dwelling and ask."
Arya glanced over her shoulder at where Robin had disappeared back over the dune, letting out a little sigh.
"They just feel…" Arya said, struggling for the right words. "I don't know… like they're on a different level. They're heroes. It's kinda hard to approach them…"
Fae chuckled a little, her smile becoming playful.
"Well you don't have any problem talking to me."
"Well, yeah," Arya agreed. "Why would I? Didn't you say you've only been a Shepherd a little longer than me?"
"Well, I am a four-thousand year old dragon," Fae laughed, pulling her hair back from her long, pointed ears. "Give or take a few hundred years."
Arya stuttered, gaping like a fish as Fae leaned back and laughed, letting her hair fall back and cover her ears.
"There's a reason I usually keep 'em covered, but… In the end we're all just people," Fae said kindly. "Just ask your questions. I'm sure Robin would love to answer them. He loves to talk."
Arya nodded, silently pulling her knees up to her chin again as they sat and watched the early sun reflecting off the water.
"You know," Fae said conversationally, "It wasn't far from here where I first met Robin and Anna. They were travelling with two different people at the time; a really nice guy that liked invading your personal space when he talked to you, and a really scary lady that… well, apparently we're going to go see her now, so you'll see for yourself."
"You met him in the desert?" Arya asked curiously.
Fae nodded, smiling wistfully as she dipped the tip of her toe into the cold oasis water.
"Yeah. A lot of Robin's life seems to revolve around this desert, weather he wants to admit it or not. You know what Anna's making for breakfast? I'm starving."
"Nope. No way. Not… I don't… How? Just… How?"
Van let out a frustrated sigh as he leaned back from the chessboard, running his hands frustratedly through his hair while Arya fidgeted and looked embarrassed on the other side of the board. Their matches that morning had drawn most of the group into watching, and a number of them burst into laughter as the young tactician lost his fourth straight game.
"She's been playing this game for, what, like three days?" he asked, exasperated. "How? What manner of creature are you that you can win so easily?"
"I just…" Arya fidgeted. "It's just… common sense. Right?"
Van froze, looking at the girl in a mix of shock and awe before sighing and rising to his feet.
"I'm out," he said, raising his hands in defeat.
"You always did suck at chess," Galle shrugged.
"Why don't you show us how it's done then?" Van scoffed over his shoulder.
"I like the sound of that." Severa agreed.
"Three silver says that the kid mops the floor with 'im," Brady muttered, leaning over to Owain.
"Five says she beats him in less than ten moves," Anna chimed in.
Galle looked up from the book he had been engrossed in, an annoyed set to his features.
"What? No, I'm… reading."
As he went to look back down at his book Mari nudged him in the arm with her elbow. When he gave her a dirty look she nodded at the chessboard, looking at him expectantly.
"Seriously? You too?" Galle sighed. "Fine. But don't blame me if she never wants to play again after this."
"Make that seven silver," Anna amended, earning a fresh round of laughter.
Galle rolled his eyes, his face set in a scowl as he took a seat at the small portable table across from Arya. With quick, practiced hands he set up his pieces, giving Arya the first move as white. The game began in earnest, and the girl made a good start, pushing hard. But Galle had been applying chess strategy to his own tactics for years now, and he quickly turned the tables and in five moves had cornered her King. Coins were exchanged as Arya blushed at the attention her their game had attracted.
"She's good," Galle nodded. "I almost fell for that feint with her Queen. Good job, kid."
Arya just nodded, still not speaking.
"And you really do just suck at chess!" Galle called to Van.
"Anyone else wanna embarrass 'emselves while I'm on a roll?" Brady asked, tossing the coins Anna had grudgingly handed over into the air victoriously to punctuate his statement.
"Sorry to spoil the fun, but she has combat training to attend," Lucina said apologetically, appearing at Arya's shoulder.
There was a disappointed moan from the group before they began to disperse, but Arya's face lit up.
"Am I going to learn magic?" she asked excitedly.
"Not from me," Lucina laughed, holding out a wooden practice sword. "Oh, and don't try to slink away again, Galle. You're helping, too."
There was a frustrated sigh from behind Arya, and the girl gave a small giggle as Galle shuffled forward. Not surprisingly, Mari was at his shoulder looking on as stone-faced as ever.
"Would you like to help, too, Mari?" Lucina asked.
The Chon'sin-born tactician nodded, brandishing her own practice sword by way of answer.
"I was wondering why you were carrying that stupid thing around all morning," Galle muttered.
Mari looked over to the Plegian man, holding out a second practice sword. Lucina and Arya both laughed as Galle groaned and sighed.
"Alright, Arya," the blue-haired woman said confidently. "We're going to lead you through some more basic forms today."
Robin grinned a little to himself as he watched Lucina leading Arya through the most basic sword forms she knew, Galle and Mari sparring not far away until they were needed. It would probably prolong their journey, waiting to break camp until so late in the morning, but it was worth it to watch Arya's rapid progress.
"Kid's a natural," Van said, appearing at his former teacher's shoulder. "Makes me wonder if all Plegians have this aptitude."
"If we do it's been a waste of our talent to be blindly worshipping Grima for so many centuries," Robin sighed.
He turned away from the training session to look at Van. The younger man still had a habit of wearing his yellow scarf everywhere beneath his black coat, but had traded his old officer's tunic in once he'd outgrown the garments. Instead he wore similar travelling clothes to Robin, but still with his old weapon's belt and army boots still polished to a mirror sheen. In his hands he held the documents that Robin and Gaius had stolen, the tired look on his face clearly stating he'd just finished with them.
"Find anything of note?" Robin asked.
Van shook his head and sighed in frustration.
"Honestly? No," he admitted. "I've been through those papers twice now, and all I can find is perfectly legal land acquisitions. A lot of them, most of them funded by a Vineyard in the south-east corner, but that's about it. They must have a secret ledger somewhere, one with all their dirty dealings in it."
"That, or all this is above-board," Robin mused, rubbing his chin in thought.
"Then why attack us?" Van asked. "Why risk starting an international incident if everything they're doing is legal? I mean it would have started an incident anyway, if you, the Khans and Exalt Chrom hadn't suppressed it."
Robin nodded, lost in thought.
"Which vineyard?" he asked suddenly.
"Uh…" Van started, flipping through some pages. "One of the relatively newer ones, Colet. Run by a merchant named… Alvin. He's been implicated in a number of shady deals in the past, but no one's ever been able to nail him before. Funny… last I heard he'd become part of the Southern Merchant Council. Would've thought he'd go clean after that."
Robin nodded, grateful as always that he'd brought Van along. The young man had a penchant for listening and absorbing even the tiniest scrap of information wherever they travelled; idle gossip, military movements, what the local taverns were all serving for dinner, he didn't make distinctions between information. Meaning that for all matters Ylisse-related Robin could pick his sponge-like brain and get details rivalling that of an intelligence network. "It's amazing what you'll learn if you just listen" Van had said once, shrugging a little and grinning the way he always did. It was like having a younger version of Virion around, something that made Robin grin a little to himself.
"Shady how?" Robin asked.
"Slavery, abuse of his workers, tax evasion," Van shrugged. "Pretty petty stuff compared to taking over an entire town in a neighboring country. Think he's connected somehow?"
"I don't know," Robin admitted. "But I intend to find out. First we need more information, which means contacting Ylisstol at the very least."
"At least Isaac will be happy to hear from us again," Van said brightly, ever the optimist.
The Royal Mage's Academy of Ylisstol was considered one of the three great powers of the Ylissean Haildom, comparable only to the Knight Orders and the Church of Naga. Therefore it came as no surprise to any that the third-largest building in the Ylissean capital was the Mage's Tower, home to the Academy and the dozens of senior mages that comprised the faculty.
Many mages, however, chose to make their own workshops in small towns and villages or even alone in the wilderness, away from prying eyes where their skills weren't hemmed in.
Clarus had considered such a course of action at many times during his career. As he stomped up the crowded outer staircase, passing the multitude of apprentices, students and assistants that made their homes in the tower's lower levels he found himself revisiting those thoughts.
A small property, similar to the one that he had worked for the merchants on, where he could be alone with his research…
His hand tightened around the small bundle in his robe's pocket as he frowned, glaring at any of the students that made eye contact with him. They all shrank back from his ire; Claus was one of the more even-tempered, likeable instructors at the academy. The way he was acting now was strange for him, to say the least.
The two apprentice-rank mages that followed Clarus looked down, refusing to make eye contact with any of their peers. No doubt many of the students passing by were wondering where Minuso was, the boy lying dead in a shallow grave after the Rommel brute had cut him down. Galuc and Alvidian had been quiet and withdrawn ever since they had finished with the experiment, Clarus choosing to imbue the Rommel's armor plates by himself rather than expose the boys further to the strange substance that had been their spell catalyst.
Finally the trio passed through the classroom wing and into the private offices and quarters of the senior mages above them, Clarus leading the two apprentices wordlessly to his own office. Without hesitating he pushed open his door, ushering the two boys into the room before closing and bolting the heavy wooden door. For good measure he put a weak defense ward on it, too.
The large room had once been a classroom that Clarus had repurposed, his large desk and two other long tables covered in scrolls, books and glass beakers and vials of all shapes and sizes taking up the majority of the space. Huge, overflowing bookshelves lined the room, covering the windows so that the only light came from the candles that Clarus lit with a lazy wave of his hand.
At last, now that they were alone, Clarus pulled the small bundle carefully out of his pocket and set it down on his desk while Alvidian and Galuc watched. He gently opened the rough cloth, exposing the six shards of black ore that had been leftovers from the armor to the air.
"Magnificent," Clarus breathed.
"Master, we should inform the Mage General and the Librarians what we've found," Galuc said hesitantly. "If this is a previously undiscovered element then we will need to catalogue it, to say nothing of its inherit magic-amplifying abilities-"
"Stop talking," Clarus hissed.
This had been a point of contention between the trio since Minuso had died. Alvidian wanted to keep the shards to study, while Galuc had insisted on handing them over to the Librarians for cataloguing. Minuso had been their tie-breaker, wanting to hand the shards over, too. Clarus had openly declared that the three students would decide the fate of the shards, but without a third vote it came down to him to decide what to do.
"Master?" Alvidian asked, stepping closer.
"I suppose you want to hand these over now, too?" the senior mage asked, his gaze snapping up.
The apprentice shook his head, looking at the shards with undisguised curiosity.
"Of course not! I want – need - to know what makes them work," he admitted. "I have to know what makes them so powerful that Minuso had to die for them."
"But Al, you know the laws of the tower state-" Galuc started.
"That we hand them over, yes," Alvidian grunted. "But think about it, Galuc! We have here something that no one else has ever seen before! And we've already started our research on them. You saw what the shards did to that gryphon! We may as well see it through so that the Librarians can properly catalogue it when we do hand it over, right?"
"What we did to that creature was an abomination!" Galuc shouted.
"But it had never been done before," Alvidian said, a cold grin rising to his face. "Why, just imagine what would happen if we did that to a person!?"
"Master, please consider your status!" Galuc pleaded, turning now to Clarus. "You are one of the senior mages of the academy, you can't just throw that away!"
The senior mage remained silent, still leaning over the shards.
"I believe," he said after a moment, "that I will rise through the ranks quite a bit once we finish our research. And that when I am done, the two of you will be fully-fledged mages in your own rights."
Galuc shook his head, stepping back from the other two.
"Fine," the boy said, frowning deeply now as his voice started to shake. "You leave me with little recourse. If you will not do the right thing, then I will. Naga, you haven't even reported Minuso's death yet!"
"It would interrupt our research!" Clarus thundered, finally looking up from the shards with an animal snarl.
"No, no," the senior mage said much softer as he looked back down at the shards. "We… we have much to do. And Galuc, you… you're going to be integral to my experiments. I can't do this without you…"
The younger boy went pale at his master's tone, eyes widening as the respected mage began to chuckle a little to himself.
"I… I…" Galuc started, shakily reaching for his spellbook.
"Fire!" Clarus shrieked, extending his hand.
Galuc spun, hit in the shoulder by the spell and dropping to the ground. He looked up, Clarus looming over him with one of the shards clasped in his fist as flames still danced from his other hand.
"H-how…?" Galuc managed to gasp. "Without… a s-spellbook?"
"These shards are the future, my boy!" Clarus said happily. "You should be honored to be a part of that!"
Galuc shuffled backwards on the floor as his teacher advanced, a manic grin and a strange, alien red glow in his eyes. The student couldn't help but wonder, as his back found one of the bookshelves on the periphery of the room, just what had happened to his teacher.
Clarus knelt down, grabbing Galuc's jaw and wrenching his mouth open.
"N-no! Nooooo!" Galuc cried as his teacher forced the shard down his throat.
That afternoon the small caravan of Shepherds shuffled into one of the small oasis towns dotting Plegia's central desert region, passing through the buildings as Anna led them to the trading post near the water's edge.
It was getting late now, the result of Lucina's training Arya all morning. Which meant they would either have to camp or rent a room. Fortunately, money wasn't an issue. Robin was technically a Prince, and Lucina was the former Exalt of her time period. While they had both renounced their titles to live a quiet life in the north they still had quite a bit of capital between them, so renting a few rooms in a small town like this would barely be a drop in the bucket of their savings.
"We gonna camp again, Boss?" Brady asked, shuffling along next to the tactician.
"Maybe," Robin shrugged. "I haven't decided yet."
"There's a sandstorm coming," Arya piped up helpfully from behind them. "I… feel it in the air."
"Okay, we'll rent some rooms then," Robin grinned over his shoulder. "Trust the local to save us getting buried in sand."
Arya blushed under her teacher's praise as Robin faced forward again.
"Hear that Anna!?" he called to the merchant. "We're looking to rent some rooms! I'll leave the haggling to you!"
She cackled in pre-emptive triumph from her wagon's seat at the front of the column, clearly happy to have her 'skills' made use of rather than just her vehicle. Robin actually felt sorry for the poor innkeeper she was about to descend upon.
"Aren't you a local, too, milord?" Gaius asked lazily.
"Shut up or I'm making you sleep in the sandstorm," Robin growled.
The thief grinned and held up his hands in mock surrender, chuckling a little as Robin seethed.
That evening the group of Shepherds sat around in the common room of the inn that Anna had chosen, talking or relaxing after dinner. The wind howled outside, the sandstorm having descended on the small oasis not long after the Shepherds had arrived. Robin was sitting off to one side of the room, studying an old Valmese map with Arya and trying to get her to think unconventionally about the problem he'd presented her.
"… and if you move your troops here," he said, pointing to a ridge above a small valley on the paper, "you can flank from above. Perfect for lightly armored troops, especially Feroxi trackers. They love doing stupid stuff like jumping on their enemies."
I'll just not mention the particular story about jumping off an airborne pegasus… Robin chuckled to himself.
Arya nodded intently as Robin pushed some small wooden tokens around the map.
"Questions?" he asked.
"No," she said, shaking her head.
The girl studied the map, carefully committing the pieces and the movements she'd seen to memory. Robin let out another soft chuckle, gently sweeping his hand across the map and gathering up the pieces. Arya looked up questioningly at her teacher's behavior, clearly about to protest.
"Don't think that that was the only way to defeat the enemy," he said, ruffling her short hair. "My lessons are only suggestions, kid. There's always a better way that you might not see until you're on the ground with your troops. Understand?"
"Yes, master," she said brightly, understanding dawning in her eyes.
"Good," Robin said, leaning back in his chair. "Now, why don't you go and relax. I have to talk to the others about our next move."
Arya nodded as she stood, hesitating before turning away.
"Yes?" Robin asked from beneath his fringe.
"Can… can I borrow your book on tactics?" she asked meekly. "I'd like to do a… little more reading."
"Sure, here," Robin shrugged, reaching into his pouch. "But work on your confidence. No one's going to follow a timid tactician."
Arya nodded, cradling the handwritten tome that Robin had crafted through nearly a decade of war as she walked towards the brazier burning in the center of the room.
"Don't smudge the pages," Robin called after her, a smile on his face.
Arya sank down next to Fae, who was staring at the bright embers of the fire with a bored look on her face. Both girls laughed as Arya said something that Robin didn't catch before opening the book on her lap. Fae curiously glanced over Arya's shoulder, and the young trainee began to explain some of the simpler tactical theories to her.
"You seem to be quite taken with the child," Lucina commented from above him.
Robin glanced up over his shoulder, his smile growing a little.
"Hey, honey," he said, reaching up to take her hand. "I just can't help but think she reminds me of you when we first met."
"Oh?" Lucina asked, chuckling as she moved around to her husband's front.
"She gives me the same feeling," Robin explained. "The same survivor's grit that you exuded when we met in the forest near Southtown."
"I see," Lucina said with a nod, sinking down to perch on one of Robin's knees.
She leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek before leaning against him and resting her head against his shoulder, the same way she had when they had been pressed for space on the return voyage from Valm so many years ago now.
"Just do not forget who your wife is, dear," she mumbled comfortably.
Robin scoffed, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer.
"Don't worry, you're much prettier," he told her.
Someone cleared their throat from Robin's other side, and both of them glanced up to see Galle, Mari and Van looking down at them with different expressions; irritation, a playful grin and a familiar neutral look.
"If you two are, uh, busy we can come back later," Van suggested, waggling his eyebrows.
"Don't start," Robin sighed. "Sit. You're making me antsy."
Lucina moved to get off his lap as the trio sat around them, but the older tactician held her tight.
"This won't take long," he muttered to her before looking back to his former students.
"So we have a lead now," Robin announced. "A merchant on the Southern Merchant Council named Alvin is supposedly working with the Rommels, and I want to know why. Meaning we're going to need to track this one down. Firstly, we need more intel. Any suggestions?"
"Is there anyone we can talk to?" Van asked. "Anyone that can give us some solid intel?"
"He's on the Southern Merchant Council, right?" Galle muttered, before looking up. "Before I joined the school I had a job for another member of the Council, a Plegian merchant named Abdul. He has a trading post based in an Oasis town towards the south, the Ama al-Tha trading company in Saiqat."
"Think he'll meet with you?" Robin asked.
"I only insulted half of his customers, disobeyed my superiors and ignored most of the standard protocol while I was working for him, so sure, I'd bet he'd love to see me again," Galle scoffed.
"Okay, we'll start there, then," Robin decided. "We'll put Grima's Fall on hold for now, I guess. Now that that's settled, leave me alone with my wife. We have husband-and-wife things to discuss."
"Urgh. Gross," Galle groaned as he stood.
Van chuckled as he left the impromptu meeting, shaking his head a little as Galle followed him muttering under his breath. Mari lingered just long enough to give a polite bow before hurrying after the two other tacticians.
"I love that we brought those three with us," Robin commented, leaning back again. "I just never have to do any thinking for myself anymore. I trained them well."
Lucina sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Did I not warn you that you would get fat?" she mumbled sleepily. "Your head is the part of you getting fat right now."
The next morning Arya yawned and stretched as she stepped into the morning light outside the Inn, heading for the space where Lucina was supposedly waiting for her. Morning training sessions after breakfast were becoming the norm, now, and Arya could actually feel the difference it was making. After her muscles stopped hurting, that was.
To her surprise, though, it wasn't Lady Lucina, or even Galle or Panne, waiting for her.
Robin gave her a small smile as she hesitated, indicating she join him.
Arya smiled and jogged towards her teacher excitedly. Unlike the Ylissean fencing instructor, she felt real kinship with Robin. He was her people's true King, after all. She just felt more… comfortable around the other Plegians.
"We're not heading straight to Grima's Fall after all, now," the tactician explained. "So that means I have to test your magic affinity myself if we want to get you started. The sooner, the better after all. It's easier to learn when you're young. Do you know anything at all about magic?"
Arya shook her head. All she knew was that it was an art practiced by the Dark Mages and the Ylissean Mages, one that took a lifetime to master. She had never even considered trying to learn magecraft before, but according to her teacher she had the potential, so…
"Alright then," Robin nodded. "Tharja and Aversa both explain this a lot better than I do, but I'll give it a shot."
"All around us there is a source of energy called mana. Only a few certain people can properly tap into this source. It's… easier if you imagine the world is covered by an invisible web. Nature, or Anima, mages tug at the strands of the web to cast powerful spells. It is from that natural power their spells take the form of lightning, wind and fire. Dark magic, though, is far more complex. Still with me here?"
Arya nodded, her eyes wide as she desperately tried to soak the lecture in.
"From what I can tell, dark magic was an accident," Robin continued. "Grima never meant for us to learn its secrets, and in the earliest days many Dark Mages went insane trying to master it. To this day many combat Dark Mages are still crippled by their craft, left drained and consumed by the powers they wield. I, myself, am no exception."
Robin bent down, pulling his hair back to display the blackened cracks behind his ear. Arya gasped in horror, but Robin waved her off.
"It's still in its early stages, so all I have to do is go easy on the Dark Magic and I'm fine," he assured her. "Now, where was I? Right. Anima mages, they tug and tweak the strings of mana in the world, leaving them intact. But Dark Mages, they tear at it, creating holes that allow the chaos of pure power to flow into our world from the void outside reality. This was Grima's 'gift' to us, and is also why Plegia is a desert wasteland. Dark Magic damages the web of mana after a while; generations of mages tore at the web, diminishing it until it was so damaged it could no longer support life in the country. But an important factor to remember with Dark Magic is the wear it also takes on a mage's mind and soul. These scars are proof that my soul is scarred by the arte, and that I'm no longer whole. So long-story-short, if at all possible I'm going to be pushing you away from Dark Magic."
Arya nodded again, swallowing nervously.
"A-are there… side effects to anima magic, too?" she asked.
"Not unless you light your head on fire with a miss-casted spell," Robin laughed. "I've done that before, too!"
Arya snickered before growing serious again.
"How do I… magic?" she asked.
"Trust me when I say you're not going to be shooting fireballs today," Robin chuckled. "The first step is meditation. Learn to clear your mind and concentrate on the mana-flow around you. Feel the lines of power that surround us, permeate us and everything around us. Until you can do that, you won't be able to so much as make a spark."
Arya nodded her understanding, feeling her excitement wane a little.
"Aw, it's not so bad," Robin said with a grin when he saw her face fall. "Once you can feel the flow it only takes a second to tap into it. Meditation becomes calming, rather than necessary."
Arya nodded again, fidgeting before letting out a sigh.
"C-can I ask you something?" she said quietly.
"I actively encourage it," Robin answered with a smile.
"Can… you tell me about… Grima?" she asked, her voice growing quieter and quieter as she looked at the ground between her feet.
When Robin didn't answer immediately she looked up, her breath hitching at the sad expression on her teacher's face.
"Unfortunately, I don't know a lot about him," Robin said softly. "All I did was kill him. Why do you ask?"
"My p-parents," Arya said, trailing off again.
The older tactician sighed and nodded his understanding. Arya let out a subtle breath she'd been holding, congratulating herself for finally asking.
"Are you sure?" Robin asked quietly. "Once you go down this rabbit hole you might not like what you find."
Arya nodded, determined to finally know why her family and friends had all died.
"It wasn't Grima that decimated our country," Robin explained. "It was a madman named Validar, obsessed with reviving him. He was… my Father."
Arya's eyes widened at the admission, and Robin smiled bitterly as he continued.
"He was a master of manipulation, using ancient dark magics that controlled peoples' minds. I was too slow to stop him that day. He cast a spell that… convinced more than half of the Plegian population to sacrifice themselves, to offer their life-force to Grima. So really it wasn't Grima per say that killed so many, but Validar. And trust me when I say that I made sure he was dead myself."
"S-so then… why?" Arya asked. "Why kill all those people?"
"To try and break me," Robin admitted. "Those deaths were supposed to break me and convince me to accept my destiny and become Grima. I was supposed to be Grima's vessel."
AN2015: 'how do I magic' is possibly one of my favorite lines I've ever written. I don't know why, it just makes me smile. Hope you enjoy the new content as we take a little detour on our way to the conclusion I'd written to before!