Sorry for the long wait! Writing hasn't been easy for the past while now.
Still, though, I've managed to get this done, along with another chapter, the second part to this one, that you'll probably see later this week, or in exactly a week from now. I'm pretty excited to get these out there and hear your thoughts on them in the reviews/comments! These chapters have been a long time coming, after all.
Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 14: Little Lost Souls
In the midst of a long, drawn-out war, getting a message directly from the Queen had initially been surprising for Reinhard. He'd initially steeled himself, ready and willing to receive any orders that he may be given. Whatever the orders were, he would be sure to carry them out to the fullest extent for his kingdom.
However, to Reinhard's additional surprise, Felt seemed … happy. She seemed excited, more lively than he'd seen her in so many years. For a moment, Reinhard recognized her as the Felt he used to know.
As if to drill that image into his head, she began to greet and yell at him like she always used to do. Her harsh, yet well-meaning, statements and expressions held more weight than even Felt herself realized.
Something within Reinhard warmed in those moments, a smile even beginning to grace his face.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. His smile fell once she delivered the unexpected, yet fateful, news: "He's back, Rein … Big Bro is really back!"
After that, Reinhard just stood there. His eyes blankly looked ahead for what felt like many seconds, and he refused to respond even as Felt called out to him through the metia.
Though, contrary to what one might think, this wasn't because he was upset, or even angry. No, instead, Reinhard was overwhelmed with intense shock, disbelief, and even a growing anxiety.
By the time he went to address Felt again, he'd already worried her enough through his silence. The growing sadness and feelings of worthlessness swelled even more in his chest, but he had little time to dwell on them.
Felt had also requested that he retrieve one of the deadliest duos in their army: Garfiel and Meili. Those two alone had more successful operations and kills than entire battalions. Reinhard himself was their only true rival in those aspects, but that was only because of how monstrous he was. However, he wasn't to retrieve them for combat; no, he needed to bring them back to the Capital with him.
Luckily for him, the two weren't currently caught up in any engagements, so he didn't have to go back onto the battlefield to look for them.
Reinhard used his speed to quickly scour the camp, soon coming across Meili as she prepared a meal for herself. Without any warning, Reinhard approached her, easily picked her up, and stuck her under his arm.
"My apologies, Portroute-san," Reinhard quickly said, settling his arm so that she couldn't escape.
"Hey!" she yelled out. "How many times do I have to tell you! Don't call me tha~at!"
"Ah, right. My apologies, Natsuki-san," Reinhard corrected, turning his head toward the exit and immediately rushing off to scour the camp once more.
Surprisingly, she hadn't struggled at all. If anything, she was more upset at the fact that he had accidentally said the wrong name.
After Subaru disappeared, she had taken on his name. She always told everyone that it was to spread his memory, to keep him alive, but everyone that was close to him — was close to her — already knew the real reason.
Reinhard, even with all of his Divine Protections, still always struggled with that.
It wasn't because he couldn't remember; no, it was because he didn't want to. Every time he remembered that name, or even thought about it, he would feel the onslaught of his own repressed feelings.
In a way, he was thankful for the war because of that.
Reinhard brought his mind back from those thoughts. Instead, he thought of how easily Meili had submitted to his hold. Instead of struggling and flailing her limbs to try and escape, she just slumped in his grasp and let him carry her. He couldn't help but momentarily wonder why.
Garfiel, on the other hand …
"Oi! Let go of my amazin' self, Sword Saint!"
"I apologize, Garfiel-san, but I cannot do that."
Unlike Meili, Garfiel thrashed and fought as much as he could, though it proved to be no challenge for Reinhard's grip. Needless to say, Garfiel didn't get very far and eventually gave up, letting Reinhard sprint to the Capital without the minimal disturbances.
If he moved fast enough, he could arrive by the early morning. Of course, he'd ensure that his two passengers were plenty safe and not in any danger of disorientation or injury during the trip.
They would vehemently argue against that, though.
In hindsight, Reinhard considered how he, perhaps, should have told them of what was happening. He probably should have shared the Queen's statement, or at least what her specified orders were.
If he had revealed the truth, he was sure that the two of them would've been just as ecstatic as he was and would've been just as eager to get back to the Capital. Instead, he had said nothing and likely left them in a frustratingly pondering silence.
However, as daylight broke and their approach to the Capital became imminent, Reinhard felt an increasing sense of nervousness swell within him. At first, he believed it to have been a byproduct of his own feelings, perhaps fear or anxiety to see his friend after so long.
He had failed in his duty, after all. Subaru had asked for his company, his protection, and, yet, he had failed to keep him safe. His failure had resulted in Subaru's disappearance and subsequent death.
Well, what Reinhard thought was Subaru's death, anyway.
Though, as he came closer and closer to the Capital, Reinhard realized that his earlier feelings were not his own, but a result of one of his Divine Protections being triggered. His Divine Protection of Sensory Awareness was making him aware of an approaching danger, subtly warning him and making him feel slightly nervous as a result.
By the time the sun was high enough in the sky, Reinhard could finally see the Capital. It was then that he fully understood.
Seeing the various trails of smoke which rose into the sky made him go just a bit faster, soon passing the Capital's walls and stopping somewhere inside. The screaming, while overbearing, did not overwhelm him. As the Sword Saint – a monster beyond any feasible comprehension – he was used to it.
He dropped his two passengers, who were incredibly disoriented. As the two recovered, Reinhard looked ahead of himself, narrowing his eyes. So many people ran, fleeing for their lives. They would all run right past him, going unnoticed by the terrified crowd.
It wasn't long before he sprung forward again, carefully navigating the streets until he soon came to an abrupt halt. His eyes remained narrowed, his stance on-guard, and a hand pressed against the hilt of his sword.
"Halt. I cannot allow you to proceed," he spoke, his voice commanding and stern. It was something that would have been intimidating to most people.
However, the entity in front of him did not classify as such. Her long, platinum-hair flowed gently in the breeze. Her deep blue eyes stared blankly back at him, with the expression on her face remaining stoic. Around her lay around a dozen bodies, all killed no more brutally than another.
Reinhard's eyes widened, immediately recognizing those features, before once again narrowing into an intense, borderline hateful, glare. He knew exactly who this was.
He could never have forgotten the face he saw that day – her face. The same Witch that made him unable to protect his friend. The same Witch who took that friend away; the friend that saw him as Reinhard, as a real person, and not as the Sword Saint.
The hand which laid over the hilt at his side closed itself around it, firmly grabbing hold of the sword which still rested in its sheath. At first, her worthiness to face the Dragon Sword, Reid, surprised him. However, that surprise quickly subsided once he recalled how easily she had cast him aside during their last encounter, along with the destruction which lay before him now.
His hand shook as his grasp around the hilt tightened, internally struggling against himself. As rational thought came back to his mind, his hand opened itself up and let go of the hilt, falling back to his side.
Despite how much he wanted to use it, to completely exterminate her, he couldn't. He had to remember where he was, what was around him, and who was around him. There were innocent people everywhere, and one strike from that sword would be enough to kill anyone in its path, not to mention that it could even potentially level the city.
Instead, he reached back with his right hand and unsheathed a more ordinary blade. While not as strong as the sword at his side, this blade would do plenty well at getting rid of the abomination before him.
… How hypocritical of him.
Even as he positioned the blade in front of him, the Witch had not moved. She remained stoic, her eyes unblinking. Right then, he appeared before her, his sword sweeping across from right to left and cutting her in half.
Or so he thought.
She was gone. Her body vanished, momentarily startling and confusing him. He quickly composed himself and quickly began to look around. It didn't take long for him to find her again, hiding behind a stone pillar with her back pressed up against it.
He appeared there in an instant. From where he stood, he diagonally swung his sword with such an unnatural strength that it cut the pillar in two. This time he was able to watch as her body split apart, falling lifelessly to the ground.
He heard footsteps behind him. He turned around, seeing her again. This time she ran, trying to get away. Any form of surprise in him faded quickly. He wouldn't let her get away, appearing directly beside her and using his sword to promptly behead her. He watched as the head hit the ground, rolling a bit as the body slowly collapsed soon thereafter.
Turning his head again, he saw more. There was so many of her, all running around him in the same direction. He shook his head, blinked a few times, trying to refocus his mind. When he looked up again, nothing had changed.
She was trying to fool him; she was trying to cover her escape with pesky illusions.
It wouldn't work.
His grip on the sword tightened, his teeth gritting as he sprung forth. He swung his sword fluently in the air, cutting down each and every clone of the Witch he saw, one by one, with flawless efficiency. He felt no resistance as he sliced through her body, each and every time, and didn't even bother to watch as the bodies hit the ground.
When all was done, he stopped moving, straightening his posture and letting out a relieved breath. The deed had been done. The Witch was finally dead. Now, he could focus on helping the citizens recover and rest easy knowing that he had finally, truly destroyed the enemy which took away his friend.
Except … he couldn't. Standing there, before him, was the Witch. Her expression was no longer stoic, only holding one noticeable difference: a small, satisfied smile.
A moment of confusion washed over Reinhard in that moment. However, his eyes weighed themselves down, widening as his confusion vanished in an instant.
Around him lay not the bodies of the Witch, but of normal people. The innocent citizens of Lugnica lay dead around him, sliced, beheaded, and even dismembered. Despite his many Divine Protections, and his title of Sword Saint, he found himself trembling under the weight of what he had done.
Scared, innocent people were killed mercilessly by his own hand and sword. He looked at each of their faces, all of them burrowing deep into his memory.
Reinhard — no, the monster dropped his bloodied sword onto the ground, falling to his knees. His eyes could only stare blankly ahead, trapped within his own mind and thoughts.
He hadn't even noticed when the Witch left.
He was alone, forced to bear the consequences of what he'd done.
"Reinhard?"
He didn't even know how long he'd been there for. All he could think about was their faces. Each and every one of them.
"Reinhard? Is that you?"
He didn't even acknowledge the voice which called out to him. Its sound and tone was unknown to him, existing only as background noise within his head.
Then, he stiffened. A hand, gentle and caring, rested itself upon his shoulder. The sudden contact was enough to bring him out of the stupor he'd been trapped within. The figure stood behind him, but he still didn't bother to turn around to face them.
"C'mon Reinhard, buddy, talk to me."
Reinhard felt as though something was stuck in his throat, causing him to gulp. Afterward, he parted his lips and audibly exhaled. His mind wandered, unfocused and unsure. No matter what, it always rounded back to what he'd done.
"I … I killed them," he uttered. He didn't even bother looking back as he spoke.
His eyes only continued to stare ahead, blankly looking upon the bloody massacre he'd made. Even without looking at them, each of their faces were etched into his memory.
To add to the memory, he would never forget the ways he had killed them. With each face existed a correlated method of death. His Divine Protection was "useful" for that.
He truly was a monster.
"And, let me guess, you're sitting here blaming yourself?"
Reinhard couldn't help but momentarily consider the absurdity of the question. He didn't move his head, but his gaze shifted slightly to the side, as if trying to look back.
With a lacking response, the person behind him hummed and positioned himself closer. Their other hand grasped his other shoulder for a moment before moving slightly past his head and pointing down.
Reinhard's eyes followed the finger to look at the body of an adult woman. Or, rather, two halves of an adult woman. He had sliced her in two from just under her shoulders, splitting her body into four separate parts. From what it seemed, she was just a common, ordinary citizen. However, the bump in her belly seemed to suggest that she was about to become something more special than just that.
"Look at her and tell me that you meant to kill her," said the voice, stern and strangely confident. "Tell me that you intentionally looked at this woman and believed that she needed to die."
"I …" Reinhard uttered, trailing off. The rest of his words were caught in his mouth, leading him to struggle with what to say. His mind was a mess, battling back and forth as to how to answer the voice's inquiry. Eventually, his lips parted to speak once more, "I didn't think that."
The person behind Reinhard let out a rather satisfied "hmph," moving his hands back and off of his shoulders. Reinhard could hear the sound of the person's footsteps moving beside him, just as he heard them speak again, "Then there you go."
Reinhard let out a hefty breath through his nose, keeping his eyes on the woman below him as he spoke, "But it was still my actions which ended her life. I was responsible for her untimely death, whether I wanted it to happen or not. This is my responsibility to bear."
The person behind him hummed, letting out a heavy breath afterward. He didn't move, standing silently behind him, supposedly musing their own thoughts.
"You know, nobody's perfect," he said. The statement slightly confused Reinhard, making him ponder on its meaning until the individual spoke again. "You're really holding yourself up to a high bar, here. You're trying to meet everybody's standards of you, which isn't healthy, and it's basically killing you from the inside out."
The person's words did little to settle Reinhard's mind, even making him more unsure of their meaning. He parted his lips, hardly speaking, "I'm … afraid I don't quite understand." He tilted his head slightly down and to the side, as if trying to look at the individual behind him. "I bear the title of the Sword Saint. I am a Royal Knight of this kingdom. Is it not my duty to meet the expectations given to me?"
Silence ensued for a long moment, only broken by a light sigh from the mysterious individual. "Let me put it this way. You're human. You're not some knight in shining armor — well, I guess you technically are, but it's who's behind the armor that matters. It's like you're letting the armor wear you, instead of you wearing the armor."
Reinhard straightened his head, blinking as he tried his best to process those words. His understanding of them wavered, continuously debating with himself on their meaning.
"Point is," the person began, "you're not a perfect symbol. And, I'm sorry to say, but you never will be. The same goes for everyone else. Holding yourself to that standard is only going to keep hurting you. You're a human, just like the rest of us."
It was then that Reinhard finally understood what this person was trying to say. He was telling him that, despite his title and position, he was not obligated to be some special hero. Put bluntly, this person was suggesting that he was just … Reinhard.
That was something he hadn't considered, or even heard, in a long, long time.
Despite the revelation, Reinhard still found himself disagreeing. With the evidence laid before him, he looked out and spoke his innermost thoughts, "Does that truly matter? In the light of all I have done, do those facts hold any weight for me?"
"Of course they do," the person responded without missing a beat. "You're human, and you're a good person. We all make mistakes, even the best of us."
"A mistake?" Reinhard's voice droned, nearly scoffing at such a term. His eyes gazed upon the bodies, parting his lips as he continued, "Labeling this as a mere mistake would be a disservice to the lives that are lost."
"But can it be anything else?" the person retorted. "You're not evil; you told me yourself that you didn't intend for this to happen. You didn't look at these people and want them to die."
They paused, taking a moment to catch their breath before finalizing their point.
"You were tricked. You thought that you were fighting someone else — someone much more deserving of this fate," they spoke in a low, almost regretful tone. "This isn't your fault, Reinhard. Instead, the fault lies with the one that tricked you; the one that made you do it."
Reinhard's eyes softened at that. His mind was jumbled, considering those words but holding onto his doubt in a desperate act of denial. "My actions still remain irrefutable. There is still nothing that can be done."
"I … know what it's like to want to start over; to retry. I know what it's like to lose someone forever. You want them back, but you know that there's no way it can actually happen." The person concluded with a low, solemn voice. They stayed silent for a long moment, seemingly lost in thought, before finally continuing, "But there's always ways to atone for that."
It was then that Reinhard finally garnered the courage to pick himself back up, turning around to face the person behind him. His intention was to further question them, but … once he saw the person's face, those intentions immediately left his mind.
"S-Subaru."
Standing before him was his old friend, the very same one he had initially returned for. The same friend which he had lost all of those years ago, all due to his subsequent failure. With a half-smile, Subaru raised a hand and parted his lips, "Yo."
Reinhard greatly resisted the urge to hug him. It was mostly the shock and anxiety which held him back, but he did little to restrain his own expression. Reinhard was truthfully unsure as to what face he was actually making, but he knew it did a lot to convey how he truly felt.
With the shock also came doubt, something which repeatedly ate away at his mind for years. It was like an incurable plague, always sticking with him without any hope of leaving, slowly killing him. Because of that, he fumbled his words, but his intended statement remained the same.
"S-Subaru, my friend — no, I am unworthy of being your friend—"
"Let me stop you right there," Subaru interrupted, even holding up a hand for added emphasis. "I don't want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, alright?"
"B-But … I failed to protect you," Reinhard argued. "You called upon me to aid you in your expedition, and in your time of need I was unable to do my duty. How can you—"
"What did I say before?" Subaru interrupted again. "You're human. You're not a one-note knight; you're Reinhard, the person. You make mistakes, just like the rest of us. Back then, you were just up against someone you knew too little about. You couldn't have prepared for what happened. I could never blame you for that."
Reinhard wanted to fight, to argue those words, but he stayed silent. Subaru looked at him with a meaningful gaze, giving his words time to sink in.
"I never got to finish what I was saying before," Subaru suddenly spoke again. Reinhard's attention was fully on his friend, listening intently to every word. "I know you feel terrible about what happened, and that's not a bad thing. But you shouldn't keep blaming yourself. Instead, you should try to atone."
Upon hearing the same word as before, Reinhard looked at Subaru with an unconfident expression. "What do you mean by 'atone'?"
Keeping a small, yet slightly wavered, smile, Subaru clarified, "I mean that you should make up for what happened. Help people, be there for them. Honor the people that died instead of continuously wallowing in self-pity and depression."
As those words fully registered with Reinhard, he realized that Subaru spoke as if he had personal experience with these feelings. Internally, Reinhard worried for his friend's well-being. He was concerned for his friend's mental health, silently wondering if, perhaps, Subaru had always felt this way.
He was tempted to question his friend about it, but quickly threw away the thought of doing so. Instead, he chose to ponder the words which were spoken to him. Reinhard considered them carefully, repeating them in his head countless times. It wasn't because he didn't understand them, it was because he wanted to believe them.
Reinhard found himself becoming slightly happy. His friend, the same friend who saw him as a real person, was trying to genuinely help him. It was an odd feeling, but it wasn't bad; rather, he liked it. The feeling of being genuinely cared about was thought to have been long lost to him. Of course, it was always there, hidden beneath the shadows of his heart, but it resurfaced.
A part of him believed himself still unworthy to be Subaru's friend. However, Subaru himself said that they were friends, so it would be disrespectful of him to disregard that statement.
That was why Reinhard found himself believing Subaru's words. Reinhard held their meanings close, choosing to reflect on them and change himself. What he was doing was not right of him; it was disrespectful to the ones he wished to honor. He needed to step up and readjust his feelings.
"I … understand, now," Reinhard said, tilting his head downward. He moved a hand to hold his heart, doing his best to convey his sincerity. "Thank you for everything, my friend."
Subaru softly smiled at those words. "What're friends for, right?"
At that, Reinhard momentarily let himself smile, too.
Though, even with that, Reinhard internally vowed to never forget the lives that had been lost. He would remember them, holding them close to his heart and soul, while being sure to honor their lives.
Silence ensued. Reinhard had taken his hand from his heart, standing upright in front of his friend. After a moment, he opened his mouth and questioned, "What shall I do now?"
Subaru looked at him, responding without missing a beat, "Go. There are a lot of people here that need your help. Protect them; keep them safe."
Reinhard only nodded, immediately accepting the task. It wasn't just his duty, but it was also the right thing to do.
However, a question still lingered in Reinhard's head, looking at Subaru before quickly asking, "What about you?"
His friend didn't look back at him right away, but Reinhard saw as his expression shifted into one more akin to seriousness. "I have to take care of someone," he said, his voice low with hints of remorse and sadness. He looked to Reinhard, continuing to speak in the same, if not similar, tone, "It'll probably be best if you stay away from the action. Focus on helping the people that need it."
This time, Reinhard chose to try and argue, "And what of you? By the sounds of it, you'll be heading directly into danger. Will you be alright?"
"Trust me, I'll be fine. I've got a bit of a plan," Subaru reassured, a slight smile once again gracing his face. Though, from his words, Reinhard remained a bit concerned. "And don't worry, once all of this is over, I'll be sure to explain everything that I can."
Reinhard nodded, reluctantly accepting the answer. While he was still worried for his friend, he would respect the statement he was given. The current situation was getting more and more dire as the moments passed. Subaru was right in saying that he needed to help the citizens; he could not stray from that any longer.
Before he could dash off to fulfill his newfound task, Subaru quickly spoke, "Oh, before you go, can I ask for something?"
Reinhard looked at him, slightly hopeful and optimistic. "Of course, my friend. I will do my best to help you in any way possible. What is it that you need?"
"Ah … well …" Subaru trailed off, seemingly embarrassed. "Do you by chance have an extra scabbard lying around that I could use?
People ran in waves, screaming and fleeing from a threat they all feared. They had no particular destination in mind, only running in a direction she wasn't.
Many took refuge in old buildings, stores, or even homes if the owners were hospitable. Though, many didn't have a place to go, so they only kept running.
However, even as people ran away, there were also people that ran toward the danger. One of such people was a boy with messy golden hair, wearing armor which represented the knights of Lugnica. The armor didn't cover him entirely, mainly covering his shoulders, part of his arms, shins, and some of his legs. His chest and back remained mostly bare.
If one looked closely, they would be able to see the man's sharp teeth as he ran frantically through the streets. A part of him was horrified at what he was seeing: destruction, chaos, and, most of all, the bodies of the dead.
Though he'd trained throughout the years, as a member of the Lugnican Royal Knights, to resist being affected by those types of things, he couldn't help but be disgusted and horrified. His face scrunched and cringed, both at the gruesomeness of what he saw and the putrid smell which stubbornly lingered in the air.
As he moved, he noted that the destruction laid before him was not mindless. Someone, or something, was intentionally carving a path through the city, tearing through anyone that stood in the way. To where they were going, he did not know, but he dreaded ever finding out.
Despite the boy's typically tough exterior, he was terrified below the surface.
What kind of monster could do such terrible things to people so easily?
He worried, too. If someone so monstrous was loose in the Capital, then everyone was in danger. He thought of his family; he thought of the woman in which he held so dear to his heart.
He had to constantly suppress the urge to go to her — to find her and make sure that she was okay.
Despite that, he kept moving forward. He ran through the streets, unbothered by how out of breath he was becoming, as he scouted high and low for any sign of someone in need.
He had hardly passed anyone as he ran. Mostly everyone had already fled before his arrival in the area, but his patrol along the streets indicated that there were definitely a few stragglers. He'd tried to stop some of the people he passed, to ask if they were alright, but they seemed too scared to stop running.
Just as he ended that line of thought, a loud scream emanated from somewhere nearby. The knight immediately stopped in his tracks, his head shooting to look at where the scream came from.
It didn't take long for him to find the source. A building made of stone was at his left, ruined and destroyed. Amidst the rubble was a man who was trying his best to wiggle his way through a small gap, one of metal and stone, which condensed in on him as he tried to move.
The man screamed and yelled as he struggled, desperately flailing his arms in an attempt to grab something and escape. His torso remained stuck, proving that he was too big to fit, but he kept trying anyway. As a result, the gap further condensed on his body, squeezing and crushing into his waist.
As the man screamed louder, the boy rushed into action. At full speed, he ended up at the man's side in an instant, grabbing the edges of the gap with his bare hands. Then, with one action, he tore the stone apart, freeing the man from its unforgiving hold and letting him fall to the ground.
The destruction of the stone caused the building's structural stability to fail. The boy looked up, seeing the building's imminent collapse. He quickly turned around to face the ground, putting his back to the falling stone. He grabbed the man with both of his hands, bringing him close to his chest as the structure fell.
A mixture of dust and smoke erupted, creating a cloud which obscured the vision of anyone inside of it. It didn't take long for the cloud to settle, dissipating into the wind.
The man was shaking, his eyes clenched closed. When the sounds of destruction died down, he soon found himself aware of the fact that … he was alive. He slowly opened his eyes, wary of his surroundings and even his survival.
When the man retained more of his senses, he realized that he was being tightly gripped by a knight. The knight kicked away rocks below them, clearing the way so that he could slowly and carefully lower the man down onto the ground, which he reluctantly settled onto.
The knight quickly bent down at the man's side. He lifted the man's shirt, growling a bit at what he saw.
The man himself was, at first, confused. He slightly lifted his head, looking down at his own waist in order to settle his confusion, before immediately recoiling at what he'd seen.
His shirt was soaked in blood, a result of how torn his waist seemed to be. The condensing stone from the gap had torn through his skin and tissue on all sides, creating a bloody mess, to say the least. It looked as though he'd almost been cut cleanly in half.
Instinctively, the man tried to move his legs, but he couldn't. It hurt far too much to try moving, or do anything for that matter. Panic began to overwhelm him, screaming as the pain became more and more unbearable.
"Shit," the knight cursed. "Yer adrenalin' must've worn off."
The man could only look at the knight, taking rapid deep breaths as his panic failed to subside. The knight lifted his head, looking ahead of him, then to both of his sides.
When the knight lowered his head, he gave a small nod, as if to reassure both the man and himself. "Aight," he uttered, slipping both of his hands under the man's body. "This might hurt a bit."
Right after saying that, the knight stood up, taking the injured man along with him. The man failed to suppress a scream, the pain from being suddenly moved deeply affecting him.
"'M sorry bout tha'," the knight apologized with a surprisingly light and sincere tone. The man had figured that, with his strong body and face, the knight's voice would've been a bit more … deep? Gruff, perhaps? "I think I gotta place 'y can go t'. Yer gonna be aight."
With that, he started to move. As the knight hurried through the streets, he did his best to keep the man straight in his arms. The man was in a lot of pain, but he did his best to grit his teeth and bear it.
To help get his mind off of the pain, the man looked at the knight and did his best to speak, "Thank … you."
The knight looked down at him, a small smile which showcased his sharp teeth on his face. "Yer'welcome!"
The man took a few deep breaths, but he chose to keep talking. "What's … What's your name?"
It seemed as though the knight's smile got a bit wider, responding without missing a beat. "Garfiel Tinsel!"
The man's eyes actually widened at that information. He looked at Garfiel admirably. "You're … You're Garfiel," the man spoke, almost quietly. "You're really 'The Amazing Garfiel' and—" the man coughed, "and your partner is … 'The Beast Tamer Meili'."
"Yeah, tha's us," Garfiel chuckled, somewhat amused. With a momentary pause, Garfiel came to understand what the man was trying to do. So, without wasting much time, he asked back, "What's yer name?"
With a staggered breath, the man answered, "Just call me … Delvin."
"Nice t' meet ya, Delvin!" Garfiel genuinely greeted. To keep the conversation going, he asked, "'Y got a family?"
The man, Delvin, took a breath, struggling a bit, but he still looked at Garfiel and responded anyway. "A … wife," he said with a noticeably lower tone. He coughed a few times, but quickly recomposed. "She … She died … during the attack."
Garfiel's expression conveyed his heartfelt sympathy, but also overwhelming guilt. He felt as though, if he had gotten there sooner, he could have saved this man's wife. His inability to get there fast enough caused her death. With those thoughts in mind, he uttered, "Man, 'm sorry."
Delvin choked up a small laugh. "Don't be," he answered in a gruff voice. "I plan to … honor her final words … to me."
"What're they?"
The man tilted his head back, looking up into the sky, seeing the clouds as they slowly moved past. He responded in a single breath, "To live."
Garfiel's face shifted through a flurry of different emotions, before settling on something akin to understanding. Garfiel truly did understand Delvin's feelings, connecting with them on a very personal level.
It, in essence, reminded Garfiel of what had happened in the past. Times were tough — very tough. First it was Natsuki Subaru, his trusty and reliable Captain, who had disappeared. His absence caused the imminent destruction of the Emilia Camp, then eventually the downward spiral of everyone's lives.
Garfiel never blamed his Captain for anything, though. He knew that nothing was truly his fault. He knew that his Captain would probably try to put the blame onto himself, but Garfiel would never agree to such silly claims.
In fact, the entirety of the blame rested upon the Witch. Not the Witch of Envy, like one might think, but the Witch of Vainglory. This was the common consensus amongst his friends. If she hadn't gotten involved — if she hadn't taken his Captain away — none of the disasters that followed would have ever happened.
However, they still did. No matter how much one wanted those facts to go away, they would always and forevermore persist as a part of their cruel reality.
The death of his sister was one such reminder.
It brought Garfiel to one of the darkest times in his life. Before she passed on, Frederica had always been there to look after him. She still worked diligently, all for the sake of everyone around her. Then, she was just suddenly … gone, taken from the world far too soon.
He'd nearly taken his own life on numerous occasions. He'd been lost, afraid, and alone. His sense of purpose was driven out of him, and he had seemingly nowhere to go. Sometimes he would mindlessly visit the statues of his Captain or the grave of his sister, only to cry.
That was how he lived for two whole years.
Then, by chance, he'd run into Mimi Pearlbaton. She'd recognized him and, annoyingly at the time, immediately noticed his terrible condition. She absolutely refused to leave him alone until he let her take care of him.
Reluctantly, he'd actually accepted and followed her back to a rather small, cheap apartment. Curiously, she was also living alone. When he'd asked her about it, she told him about the death of Anastasia, who was essentially her surrogate mother.
Desperate to save her, Mimi, her brothers, and others from the Iron Fang ended up losing most of their money paying for experimental treatments, which never worked, resulting in Anastasia's funds being completely expunged until there was practically nothing left.
Garfiel was aware of how wealthy the Royal Candidate was. Knowing that Mimi and the others spent all of her funds, all in hopes of saving her, brought a sense of sadness and sympathy with it. They'd really tried their best, but to no avail.
After Anastasia passed, the Mercenary group quickly disbanded. Mimi was forced to get a new job for herself and, quite frankly, she wasn't interested in going back to mercenary work. In the end, she'd found a decent hostess job at a fancy, well-paying restaurant. She wanted to leave her ways of a mercenary in the past and, for the most part, was succeeding.
As for her brothers, they both had their own paths and chosen careers in mind, which caused them to separate. Despite that, the three kept in touch and sent letters to one another pretty regularly.
At the time, Garfiel couldn't help but admire Mimi's persistence. In spite of losing everything, she still kept going and made a new life for herself. Although it was watered down, she still carried her typically carefree and energetic attitude, as well.
Garfiel felt an admiration for that, which drew him to talk to Mimi more and more. One thing led to another, and they eventually moved in together. After that, their direct support of each other only increased. By then, his mood and attitude had vastly improved, with his life turning around for the better.
He developed a small smile at the fond memories. Back then, Mimi had given him a new purpose and reason to keep living. That was why he could connect to Delvin's words and desire. He increased his pace, each of his steps weighed with more purpose.
"Do you … have a family?" Delvin asked, breaking Garfiel's line of thought.
Garfiel smiled down at Delvin, his thoughts momentarily drifting before responding. "Yeah, I do. Yer actually 'boutta meet her."
Delvin didn't have a chance to respond, only able to adopt a slightly confused expression before a new voice called out: "Garf!"
Even whilst he was in pain, Delvin found the strength to turn his head to the side. Garfiel gradually slowed down as someone approached them. There stood a rather short demi-human girl. She had pretty, aqua-green eyes and short-cut orange hair. At the top of her head, there were big, orange cat ears, with a tail visible around at her backside.
She, at first, looked at Garfiel with a rather amazed, confused, and surprised face. However, upon seeing his own expression, she realized that something was wrong and looked down at what — or rather, whom — he was carrying in his arms.
She let out a light gasp, but quickly composed herself. Her face adopted a look of pure seriousness as she stepped to the side, raising her left arm and pointing to a particular building. "Bring 'im in there."
Garfiel did what she said without hesitation, carefully rushing into the building. Once inside, Delvin was amazed to see how many people there were. The building itself looked to be a large restaurant, one which was converted and expanded into a place to house refugees.
Two people, a man and a woman, came out from somewhere in the back. At his side, the demi-human girl spoke, "We got good medics here. He'll be okay."
When the two people offered to take Delvin from Garfiel's arms, the young knight obliged. The man was carefully exchanged in their arms and, immediately after being secured in the two medic's hold, was then rushed off to the back.
But, before Delvin got too far away, Garfiel called out one last thing, "Stay strong!"
Delvin let out a gruff laugh, but that was all he was able to manage. From that, Garfiel got the message. It would be absurd to think that the man would do anything less than give it his all.
At that, he smiled. He was happy that he'd saved Delvin's life. He'd successfully saved and protected him; he'd shielded him.
Those self-inspiring thoughts were interrupted by a sudden embrace. Looking down, he found that a certain someone had gently latched herself onto him. Her face was buried into his chest, which he thought was cute. He failed to lose his smile, putting one arm around her and steadily raising the other so that he could pat her head.
He lightly stroked her hair, even going as far as to rub her ears a little bit. He knew that she always liked that.
"I missed ya, Mimi."
She momentarily stiffened, quickly relaxing afterward. He could feel her sniffle into his chest. She tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. Garfiel could see the tears starting to form, but, before he could express his concern, she responded, "Missed ya too, Garf."
Garfiel's smile threatened to drop, but he didn't let it. Instead, he tried to make light of things. "Ye really got back in th' swing o'things here. Impressive."
She lowered her head a bit and looked off to the side, lightly scoffing at his praise. She kept her head down, choosing to look around at the many different people taking shelter inside of the building. "We're trained fer this type'a thing. Tha' trainin' never fades."
Garfiel acknowledged Mimi's words with a nod. He, too, started to look around the building. The amount of unity amongst them was inspiring. No matter your race or familial status, everyone was helping each other. They handed one another food, shared clothing, took turns sleeping in the same cot, and they even helped one another with less fatal or serious injuries.
Garfiel loved seeing that.
"How could'ya leave fer so lon'!" Mimi suddenly exclaimed, momentarily staggering him and immediately taking him off guard.
Her words completely broke his mind away from his previous thoughts. Her hurt and sadness was clearly present on her face, only serving to spike the increasing guilt that Garfiel felt. Even so, he knew it was just like Mimi to be so emotionally driven.
She struggled to speak again for a few seconds, but it didn't take only for her to cry out again. "Ya didn't visit, ya didn't write … I—"
She paused, taking her eyes off of him and looking away, her gaze lingering toward the many people nearby. Her posture quickly shifted as she did her best to recompose herself, having realized the slight slip she'd made with her words.
Even so, she kept stealing glanced at him. He noticed it, too. In the midst of everything, she still revealed exactly what she really wanted to do.
In the midst of those thoughts, he suddenly felt something lightly press against him. He looked back down, seeing the side of Mimi's fist against his stomach. Glancing at her face, he could see water droplets start to make their way down her cheeks.
"I was worried bout ya, Garf," she nearly whispered, keeping her head low. The fist against his chest tightened just a little bit more, as did her other hand, as she spoke again, "'S been so long. I … I thought tha' y' might've been …"
Garfiel stopped Mimi there by putting both of his arms around her and pulling her into a tight, securing hug. She returned the tight embrace with her own, crying a little into his chest, but he didn't mind. He rubbed his hands against her back a bit, trying to calm and soothe her.
"'S okay, Mimi. 'M here now."
The two of them stayed in that embrace for a good few minutes. Mimi had a lot of emotion bottled up inside, and Garfiel was more than happy to let her vent it out on him.
Garfiel's heart broke at seeing her this way. It was a sight that he'd never liked seeing. He knew that she didn't really want him to join the Knights, but she'd supported him anyway. After all of the years he'd been away for, fighting in such a gruesome, brutal, and rather pointless war, there was no doubt to him that, for all of this time, she'd been fearing his possible death.
The thought made him hold her just a bit tighter. He rested his head on hers, continuing to rub her back. He took slow, deep breaths, as he repeated his motions in a calm, relaxing loop. While he wanted to make her feel better, he realized that he wanted to make himself feel better, too.
Mimi had been the one to pull away first. Garfiel obliged, not wanting to forcefully keep her close to him. Despite having slightly pulled back, she kept her arms firmly placed around him while her head angled up.
It was then that Garfiel took another good look at her. Mimi's cute face was stained by her own tears, her eyes and cheeks still prominently wet. It was only when she removed a single arm from around him, using it to wipe her face, that it dried.
She looked down again. Garfiel was starting to get nervous, afraid that Mimi was mad at him. He was afraid that she, perhaps, didn't even want to look at him.
"Y'know … there're rumors spreadin' around," she suddenly whispered, surprising him. "A woman n' her family came in awhile ago. She said tha' … th' 'hero' saved her."
Garfiel blinked. While he registered her words, he found himself confused. At first, he wasn't sure as to what she meant, playing the word "hero" in his head multiple times in an attempt to figure out who exactly it referred to.
However, it soon dawned on him that there was only one real answer.
His eyes widened. Garfiel had told Mimi, long ago, what had happened to his Captain. She understood things as much as he did; they were in the loop on the same level. So … she knew that he was gone.
… But, since she knew, why would she be telling him this?
He looked down at her, his shock ever so present on his face. "Ya don't mean …"
Mimi looked up at him, their eyes meeting once again. It was as if they could read each other's emotions at that moment. She nodded, "They're sayin' he's back."
Garfiel had to prevent himself from yelling "Cap'n!" at the top of his lungs. The overwhelming shock and anticipation started to eat away at him, but he held himself together on a whim.
When Mimi's head angled itself back down, her ears visibly drooping, Garfiel found himself worried again. She was sad, he could tell, but he didn't completely understand why.
Mumbling, she voiced in a soft-spoken tone, "I suppose yer gonna go find 'im n' help, aren't ya …"
…
He understood, now.
She was sad because she thought that he was going to leave her again.
A pit began to form in his stomach. He absolutely hated seeing his wife so upset. If he could, he'd make her the happiest girl in the world every day. But he couldn't, and he hated that.
Ultimately, he felt like a failure of a husband, having left her alone for so long. A part of him was surprised that she hadn't left him for someone better by now. Still, she never did, despite how lousy he was. Truly, Mimi was too good for him.
After looking at his wife, he picked up his head and glanced around the place. Nothing much had changed since he last looked, but he kept observing anyway.
Even with their unity, these people were scared. They were still just normal civilians. Even if Mimi and some of the other staff were former mercenaries, they were still very minimally guarded.
They needed protection. They needed shielding. They needed to feel safe.
They needed him.
Looking down at Mimi; looking at her tearful, saddened face, he knew that she needed him, too.
So, as much as he wanted to see his Captain again, he knew that there was someone more important to him that came first. He made his decision.
"'M stayin'."
Mimi's reaction was immediate. Her ears perked up, her eyes widening, and her head shot up so that she could properly look at him again. She wanted to ask him why, but her curious, confused expression was enough for him to understand.
"Ya need me more," he said to her. "Ya'll do." He smiled down at her, cupping her cheek with his hand. "Family 's more important t' me than anythin'."
At first, Mimi could only blink at him, unable to find the proper words to use. But, after a few seconds, her face began to scrunch up, her eyes once again welling with tears. She planted herself into his chest, hugging him tightly all the while.
Garfiel could only smile, returning the embrace with one arm and using his other hand to gently pet her head. From the way her tail swayed back and forth, he could tell that she was very happy.
When they separated, the two smiled at each other. Garfiel pointed a thumb to the outdoors, parting his lips to speak with a newfound anticipation, "Let's go patrol outside, yea?"
Mimi vigorously nodded. They joined their hands, walking through the doors together to begin their patrol together. In the midst of a crisis, the two were just happy to be together again.
A girl walked through the streets of Lugnica. Her long, braided, dark-blue hair barely hovered over her back. Her yellow-green eyes scanned everything nearby, looking in every building, every alleyway, and at every body which lay dead on the ground.
Much to her disdain, she was forced to step over a corpse seemingly every few minutes. Other than having to put in extra effort to step over them, that fact hardly bothered her. She had long since become accustomed to death and the gruesome sights that followed. The bodies which laid before her failed to trigger even a simple churn in her stomach.
Only the concern for her family could do that.
She continued stepping over bodies until, eventually, she came to a clearing. There she stopped, taking a moment to thoroughly scan her surroundings once more. She remained composed with a straight face, despite her innermost feelings. The stress of handling her worries alone threatened to eat her from the inside out.
Well, she wasn't entirely alone.
"How much farther, Shaula?"
She turned her head to the side, glancing down at the small crimson scorpion which rested upon her left shoulder. In response to her question, the scorpion snapped its claws and thrusted them forward.
The girl sighed, moving her gaze back to the street in front of her. "So, still a bit of a way to go?"
The scorpion snapped its claws again, confirming the girl's inquiry. She sighed again, immediately picking up her feet and continuing her walk forward.
"Just let me know when we're close, okay?"
The little scorpion snapped its claws twice.
And so the girl resumed her quest.
This girl was Meili Natsuki, formerly Portroute. She'd taken her new name as a tribute to the man she came to think so highly of. In more ways than one, Natsuki Subaru had been a great influence on her life.
Over the years, she hadn't really changed much. In a way, she'd ended up slipping back into the habits she used to have as an assassin. She, however, never really thought anything of it. By joining the knights, she beloved that she could put those skills to good use and, in many instances, she had successfully done so.
Though, at times, she couldn't help but feel as though Subaru would be disappointed in her. She wanted to make him proud by making a difference in the world, just like he had. But was she really doing things the right way?
She'd ask herself that question a lot. At times, it would haunt her. Sometimes, she'd cry herself to sleep over its looming effects and meanings. If she wasn't doing things the right way, he would surely be disappointed and upset with her. She didn't want him to feel that way about her, not one bit.
So she tried to make up for it. She did her best to help those in need, amongst her duties in the army, but she feared that it would never be enough. To try and drown out her own sadness, she did her best to spread his memory.
Ironically, as she did that, she always ended up thinking about how he wouldn't want her thinking so lowly of herself. She knew that he'd smile at her, maybe pat her head, and tell her that everything would be okay. He'd comfort her, connect with her, and just generally be there for her.
Finding out that he wasn't there anymore was one of the hardest days of her life. The single spark of hope she had at having a normal life was extinguished in an instant. Only Petra and Frederica could truly comfort her that first night.
She would never forgive the Witch that took him away.
Luckily, as time passed, she had found a new family for herself. Things gradually began to get better, even as they moved from the mansion to the Capital. She had people who she could trust and lean on; people who she could confide in and vent to.
However, not all good things last forever. When Frederica passed, things went downhill fast. They each had to take jobs in order to get by. It was then that Meili had truly started to dip back into her assassin roots, taking smaller jobs for a halfway decent payout.
Combined with what Louis and Petra made, they were able to afford living in their home and put food on the table, while using the extra money to get extra appliances here and there. Together, as a family, they were able to get through the worst of things.
That was why she so actively scoured the streets now, letting her worry get the better of her. When the worst hit, they were supposed to stick together, right?
As if on cue, Shaula, her little scorpion friend, snapped her claws. Meili drew her mind out from the depressive thoughts which began to consume her, stopping in her advance and glancing down at the scorpion on her shoulder. Shaula thrusted her claw to the left, toward the entrance of a rather dark alleyway, indicating that they were in the right spot.
Meili seemed unsure at first, looking from Shaula to the alleyway with uncertainty in her gaze. "Are you sure this is the right place, Shaula?"
The scorpion snapped its claws twice, as if it were saying "yes." Meili took her little friend's word for it. After all, Shaula had really honed her tracking ability over the years. If she was sure that this was the spot, then it was.
Taking her first steps forward, Meili found herself shrouded by the darkness as she entered the alleyway. At first, it was difficult to see, after just coming from being in the light, but her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness around her.
Then, she looked down.
A loud gasp escaped her lips, and she couldn't help but take a few steps back. Considering her reputation and her built-up resistance to such things, that type of reaction from her was almost shocking and out of character.
But … she just couldn't help it. This sight … it wasn't like the rest.
Her legs gave out, making her fall onto her butt, almost like she'd slipped. Her eyes widened as she found herself uncharacteristically shaking, horrified.
In front of her eyes was not one, but two bodies. They weren't just any bodies; no, they were her family.
"P-Petra? Louis?"
They were dead.
Both were dead.
… They were gone.
Meili's eyes shook as she looked at them. There was just so much dried blood. Their wounds were brutal, giving her the impression that they both died in agony.
She found herself moving forward, positioning herself on her knees and crawling toward Petra, who was laying the closest. When she finally reached Petra's body, Meili could only look at her face. The dried blood on her lips, with the small gashes and scrapes on her cheeks.
Meili hated it.
Yet Petra's closed eyes indicated that she may have died peacefully.
Meili couldn't help but doubt that.
She glanced up at Louis. Her blood was similarly dried, spread out in a pool along with her intestines on the ground. Her stomach had a gaping hole in the center of it, suggesting that someone, or something, had torn straight through it.
Suddenly, Meili felt a sense of rage surge throughout her entire body.
Instinctively, she balled up her hand into a fist, raised it, and struck the ground. It hurt, but she ignored it. She struck it again. Then again. Then again, and again, and again until she finally felt satisfied.
Her hand was bloodied by that point, but she hardly cared, or even noticed. She felt some of her rage subside, replaced by a wave of immense sadness. She didn't even look at her now injured hand, keeping her gaze on the two people that meant everything to her.
Her gaze trailed down to Petra's chest, freezing at the sight. She tilted her head, her eyes staying in their widened position, as if they were in a daze.
"Ice …?"
A pained, yet stoic utter escaped from her lips. A large chunk of ice protruded from Petra's stomach, covered and dried in her blood.
Meili knew only one person who could generate this type of powerful ice. She knew only one person who knew both Petra and Louis.
A sense of betrayal washed over her. For a moment, disbelief found its way into her heart, too. However, neither of those two feelings stayed for long, quickly being replaced by something much more focused and fierce.
She grit her teeth, her fists clenching until her uninjured hand became almost as red as the other. With rage, she lowly growled, "… Emilia …"
She was brought out of her rageful daze when Shaula snapped her claws, gaining her attention. Meili lightly shook her head, quickly composing herself and finally loosening her hands.
She looked down at Petra one last time, her eyes being drawn to the red ribbon which stayed in her hair. It was something that she'd always worn, even as she'd gotten older.
Now, it was something that she'd died with.
Hesitantly, Meili reached up and gently grabbed hold of it with her non-bloodied hand. Then, just as gently, she took it off of Petra's head. Meili brought it closer to her, holding it in front of her and intently looking at it for more than just a few moments.
After that, she slowly brought it close to her chest. When it finally made contact, she moved her arms around it as if she were embracing it, sitting properly on her knees and holding it close as she let out light sniffles. A few tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn't sob.
Within a minute, she stopped crying. With one last sniffle, she wiped her tears with the arm of her bloodied hand, using her other hand to properly grab hold of the ribbon. She took a deep breath through her nose, then released it in a drawn-out exhale through her mouth.
Meili stood up, her eyes tracking to Louis as her legs walked her around Petra's body on their own. When she reached the blonde's corpse, she knelt down and gently lifted one of her deceased friend's hands. Around its wrist was a pretty, beaded bracelet, sporting a light-yellowish color to match the girl's blonde hair. She carefully removed the accessory from Louis' wrist, too.
After that, she stood up again. She turned around, facing the exit. She took a few steps forward, but something else caught her eye.
She kneeled down again, this time next to Petra. She reached out with her bloodied hand, firmly grasping onto a shiny, yet stained object on the ground. Meili picked it up, lightly bringing it up so that she could clearly look at it.
It was Petra's dagger. Meili remembered it all too well. She was the one that had gotten it with Petra, after all. She'd even helped Petra train with it, too.
Now, it was stained with blood.
Shaula perked up on her shoulder, her attention seemingly drawn to the blade. She snapped her claws, gaining Meili's attention, before thrusting them off to the side, toward the exit.
Meili glanced down at Shaula curiously. "You can find her?"
Shaula snapped her claws twice, confirming Meili's inquiry. Meili herself showed no immediate visible reaction to that, only slowly raising her head and looking toward the exit.
She lowered the dagger to her side, still gripping it tightly in her hand. Then, she took a step forward, followed quickly by another. She began walking out of the alleyway and onto the street once more, her eyes narrowed as a mirror to her intentions.
"Show me the way."