Paralogue 1:
Part 2
Chrom glared at the mist impeding his vision. As much as he'd like to believe it was simply mother nature choosing the wrong time and place, the way it seemed to rub against his skin and senses told him otherwise. Looking up, he noted the fires from the slaver's were no longer visible in the sky also due to the mist, which brought up a bigger problem for his group. saying that they would no longer be able to see the signal for their charge depended on a flare from their tactician. But if they couldn't see the flare...
Desperate for answers, he turned to one of the three outsiders in his group. Turns out, they were just as confused as he; that, or their acting skills were just that grand.
"Your orders, Milird?"
Chrom looked to Frederick, doing his damnest to hide the trepidation behind an equally stoic mask. Charging into the mist was certainly the more suicidal plan, but doing nothing could be costly if Robin had already encountered the enemy. The mist was thick, so they would be going by ear. However, if the enemy was the cause of this...
"We wait for the signal." He ultimately decided, faith that Robin had made the same decision as he.
It wasn't too long after his decision that the unmistakable sound of screaming men filled the air. At once, all ears in the militia turned to the mist. The screams continued, followed by gut wrenching sounds that could be nothing but flesh being ripped open. Confusion spread before fear as the militia became more and more unhinged at the sounds.
A scream much louder and closer caused Chrom to turn back to the mist before he could even quiet his troops. A silhouette that slowly morphed into a man ran from the mist before tripping only feet from freedom. When he looked up, the fear on his face was momentarily replaced by confusion before hope ignited.
"Pl-please! Ya gotta help me! Those things! They-"
Grrrrr*
Growling, more akin to purring, echoed over the bandit's back. Chrom looked over the shoulder of the slaver the same time he turned. Red, slit eyes stared stared back at them. The slaver paled, not that anyone could see it even when he turned back to them and began scrambling away from whatever was behind him.
He didn't make it very far.
Before he could fully get to his feet, the thing was on him. Blood splatter and bone shattered as the creature took a hold of the man's leg with a maw they still couldn't see. The last thing they saw of the man was his pleading eyes before he was dragged into the mist; his screams sure to give many night terrors later.
It was the first time as commander that Chrom honestly didn't know what to do. There was still no signal from Robin's team, yet at this point he didn't even know if Robin was still alive. If she was, then his conscious would lead him and his way into a battlefield he wasn't so sure many, if any, would come out alive through. Nothing but retreat seemed like the right choice at the moment and he hated himself for being indecisive when his friends potentially needed his help and leadership.
"Kjelle!"
A purple blur shot past him the moment he turned to the shout. The armored back of Kjelle charging towards the mist was all he saw of the woman before she disappeared all together. Not second after, Marth stopped next to him, his mouth agape and a hand outstretched towards the mist. The two bluenettes looked to each other, but Chrom could already see the resolve in the man's eyes even before he gripped his sword and charged forward.
It would seem his decision was made for him.
"Shepherds! Soldiers! We march!"
Kidnapper's Keep
West Estate Ruins
"I thought you said you were not followed!" Ezra, the tall, skinny, and leader of this band of slavers yelled at he continued packing up the map and everything else on their war table.
"I wasn't! I made sure of it!" Cassius gritted back, not stopping in his own packing after the accusations. "It has to be the Khan. One of his damn spies must have slipped pass my-"
An explosion outside made both men pause their argument to look in the direction. Not long after, Ezra stared back at his equally pale faced partner. "For yer sake, that slip better not have cost me my fortune. Otherwise, yer head will be our payment for this mission."
Cassius held back his retort in an attempt to not slow down his pace. Whoever (or whatever) was out there, it was getting closer and Cassius wanted no part of it. Just what the hell did that bald muscle brain unleash on them?
A particularly loud scream followed by vicious snarls of a predator stopped both men once again. More yelling and shouting followed and the two men were now aware at how close whatever was out there was to the base.
"Fuck this!" Ezra immediately dropped all he was doing and ran for a hole in the wall leading to the mist faster than Cassius was capable of following.
"The hell are you doing, coward! What about our deal! You're supposed to smuggle me outta here!"
"Ta hell with yer deal! Ain't no gald worth gettin' kill by those things! Make like a leaf or die like a cow! Just don't expect me ta go down with ya!" His peace said, the slaver vanished into the mist, leaving Cassius to grit his teeth in anger. Deciding to follow the useless coward's suit, the former council man dropped everything that wasn't a tome and staff before he hobbled towards his escape route.
Upon walking into the mist, he immediately realized how quiet everything had suddenly become. He could still hear the screams of course, but they strangely seemed a lot more muffled despite the fact he hadn't traveled more than five feet. Not having the time to think more on it, he began his hobble West and (hopefully) the same way his business associate had departed.
Turns out, the further he tread into the blinding cloud, the more things became eerie. The muffled screams had by now become non-existent, the sounds of his footsteps being the only sound to accompany him. He didn't know how long he hobbled, but he was sure he was far enough from the carnage to escape unnoticed.
Something caught his walking stick, the sudden displacement enough to warn him, but not enough to stop himself from tripping over whatever it was. Throwing his arms out to catch himself, he glared back at the object that had interrupted his getaway.
A familiar brown cloak was the first recognizable trait. Messy brown hair followed before he identified the object as not an object, but a person; a familiar one at that.
"O-oi, Ezra! What the hell are you doing!" He spoke, hidden hope in his stomach that what he was thinking wasn't, in fact, a reality. Yet there was no answer from the motionless man. "Oi, you yellow toothed craven! This is no time to be-"
Turning the man over proved to be a mistake. The former councilor immediately backpedaled upon rolling the slaver to his front. Four deep claw marks opened the man's chest while his throat looked to have been gouged out. Glassy eyes stared into the abyss and there was no mistaken where the man had just been sent to.
Forcing his dinner from coming up, Cassius scrambled away from the identified corpse. Labored breathes began escaping his mouth and he feared he'd pass out any moment now.
Snapping branches made his breathing catch as he frantically scanned his surroundings.
From the mist, eyes of crimson illuminated. Two pair-no, four-wait, now there were too many to count. Standing to his feet, Cassius stared death in the face and trembled. Gripping his staff, he stood on shaking legs. Whether our of desperation or resignation, dark magic danced on his fingertips as glared at the beasts impeding his escape.
"C-come at me, you eldritch abominations! I-I will show you who is the real prey!" As expected, the beasts did not reply. The eyes began growing closer and the outline of the creatures began to show to the councilman.
Then they stopped.
As if in sync, the creatures slowly began to back away, confusing the man further. Slowly, they began to separate till a clear path was opened between the horde.
The notion that they were creating a path for him lasted for but a moment when a silhouette began appearing through the haze.
Black was the first discernable feature he could make out. Next was the dripping sword in their hand, then the way the mist seemed to hug the figures face like a helmet. The beasts immediately closed the gap from before, proving who exactly held their leash. It wasn't till the figure was just yards away when they stopped, the blood dripping from his sword oddly audible to the councilman's ears.
Cassius would be fooling himself if he said the figure before him didn't send chills down his spine. Truth be told, the only reason his legs weren't shaking anymore was due to the fact they'd already gone numb. Any long and he wasn't so sure he'd be able to stand anymore.
Taking short glances to his surroundings, he opted to get the first words out from their meeting less he forgot to breathe, "I take it, you're the one holding the leash to these beasts?" The insult seemed to get a growl from the creatures but not even a flinch from the figure. "A man of little words I see... Then may I, at the very least, know the name of the one who will kill me?"
Their response caused Cassius to tense. The sword in their hand suddenly came up to point to the sky. In a swift motion, they slashed down, the blood on their short katana splashing against the grass and, to his shame, making the former councilman flinch ever so slightly.
The sound of his heart constantly pulsating rung like a bell in his ears. The thought of death continued to linger on his shoulders, yet not all hope had completely left him. The orchestrator of these beast was not another beast, but a man. As with any law of power, take out the head and the rest would fall. And unfortunately for the masked fool, he let the one thing you should never allow to happen when dealing with a dark mage.
They allowed his mana to build.
Proof of his mastery over his art, with just a thought and a pull of his arm, purple arrays surrounded his form. The spell from his tome manifested above him in a purple miasma before his arm shot towards the, likely stunned (cause what else could he be frozen as he was) fool. The spell shot like an arrow towards its pray before enveloping him whole.
Manic laughter threatened to leave his throat as he watched the miasma spell do its work. When the fool was gone, he was certain it was only a matter of time before the beast surrounding him would act like their namesake and scurry away from the perceived threat. Like many before them, they thought him weak. They thought him a pathetic man clinging to life and cowering before a perceived threat. They were wrong, and they would pay. They would all pay. Once he made it out of here alive, he would return with an army and he would... would...
The miasma dissipated as the spell was meant to. Standing where the miasma had consumed its surroundings was the untouched form of the figure who was meant to be nothing more than rotting flesh.
The Feroxian's agape mouth trembled at the impossibility.
It was a fluke. Yes, it had to be. There was no other reasonable explanation on how the man could have survived otherwise.
His spell was just weak from the lack of an incantation. Yes, that had to be it. It's been a while since he'd used that particular spell so it's no wonder it didn't work.
He'd just have to use it again. Yes, he could definitely do it this time.
Taking advantage of the man's, likely, confusion, Cassius generated his spell once more. Mana gathered at his fingertips while the incantation was said in a quiet but quick chant. Within only 3 seconds, the spell was cast and was already being hurled at his adversary.
This time when the spell made contact, he made sure to capture every moment of it. He wanted to hear the screams and watch the dastard melt with his own eyes. He wanted to make sure there was nothing but rotting flesh left behind when the spell dematerialized.
He saw it.
He confirmed it.
The Waste spell did what it was meant to do, consume the target till nothing but rotting bone remained.
And yet, once again, the spell scattered in the cold wind, but his foe was still standing there unharmed.
Fear replaced his confidence.
Forgoing any sense of calm, he summoned a spell, any spell, to deal with the threat before him. A sharp pain in his arm sent the spell off course into the mist and forcing him to the ground. Before he could even see what had caused such agony, something smashed into his solar plexus, knocking the air out of him while pinning him firmly to the ground via a firm grip on his throat.
A mask was the first thing he could make out through the blurriness. A silver short katana was next, followed by probably the worst of it all.
Crimson red irises met his own through the mist covering their face. He couldn't see the face, but being in contact with his soon to be killer gave him access to the feel of their mana.
It was at that moment Cassius knew true fear.
Kjelle looked around at the carnage brought upon the slavers. Dismembered human beings lie across the grassy area by creatures she wasn't so sure she could handle anymore. She'd run through the mist on instinct when the chance of her master's killer getting away or even being killed before she could exact her revenge filled her every thought. Seeing a head floating in the nearby stream along with the sudden absence of screams, or sound at all, made her hyper aware of her mistake.
Stepping on a branch had her turning to thin air while seeing even a shadow had her lance poised in its direction. She was going mad with anxiety and the longer she traversed the mist the more her nerves shook.
It was by the luck of Naga that she came across a scene.
Following the sound of trees toppling over to her west, she came across a scene she'd only dreamed of.
Cassius laid flat on his back. A knife of strange origin was imbedded into his left arm and standing above him was a cloaked figure with a hand around his throat and a sword held high.
For a moment, all she could see was the worm lying defenseless on his back and the naked terror on his face. The part of her that wished, begged for this moment reveled in glee at his hopeless expression.
Eyes soon zeroed in on the unknown and the sword in their hand.
Her legs were suddenly moving. The walk turned into a sprint as her lance was poised to enter flesh. The figure looked her way just in time to retreat from the lance poised to kill them. Kjelle revealed herself to the duo, standing over the man she wished dead more than anything while the illusive figure stood a distance away. Looking over her shoulder and at the piece of trash looking at her with hope was almost enough for her to run him through right then and there.
Feet pattering was the only warning that saved her from the sword ready to be introduced to her throat. Instinct alone had her leaning away while her right leg steadied her form. In the same motion, she was forced to block a second swing with her shield, the iron bouncing off her defenses harmlessly and allowing Kjelle to counter with an arc swing of her lance.
The pole of the lance connected with the ribs of her adversary. It connected, yet the Knight found herself unable to budge. Held under the figure's arm in a vise grip was her lance.
Then Kjelle saw stars. Next she tasted blood as a second jab cut forced her teeth into her gums. Rightfully angered, she prepared her shield to bash the one holding her by the lance.
Only to witness the impossible.
Instead of going for a third jab, the her adversary raised their sword arm and-
SNAP*
Broke her lance at the center.
A Silver Lance.
A lance made with the finest Valmese steel and wood known to be nearly indestructible.
And it was broken in half by an elbow?
Having very little time to gawk, Kjelle opted to use the broken pole of her lance as a distraction to get in close.
Only for her foe to retreat once more and hurl the sharp end of her broke lance right at her. Kjelle had just enough time to bring her shield up to block, yet the sound of blade entering flesh accompanied by a scream still echoed through the mist.
Turning, she found the worm now on his stomach. A familiar spearhead poked out of his leg and the whimpers leaving his mouth would have been music to her ears in different circumstances. The fact he was likely attempting to escape briefly entered her mind, but the rage at this cutthroat carrying out her justice blinded her. Her eyes were back on the cutthroat, her anger now at its peak.
"He is not yours to-" a stream of fire forced the Knight in training to forgo her outburst. No time to dodge, her shield came up protectively in an attempt to shield her from the stream. Heat unlike any fire spell she'd felt before met her shield. Flames curved, sending two different currently on both sides of the Knight, the heat becoming more and more unbearable the longer the spell continued. Just how long was this dastard able to keep such a spell going?
An eternity later, the spell died. Not a second after, the shield was dropped and Kjelle frantically began removing her now superheated armor via cutting the straps with her backup sword. It was a process that took no longer than a few seconds, yet, oddly enough, the illusive figure did not capitalize on.
Kjelle swore it would be their mistake.
Now significantly lighter and aware of their prowess, Kjelle cooled her head and gripped her sword. A mage with abnormal strength and pinpoint accuracy was nowhere near as challenging as the things she'd dealt with back in her future. She'd faced hordes of Risen, some with the ability to match even the strongest Shepherd in their prime. This would be no different.
Her sword poised to strike, she charged forward, looking to deal the first blow
Instead of being met with steel, she was met with no resistance alomg with her foe backpedaling. Kjelle was stunned for but a moment before she pursued. Swinging her sword once more at the retreating coward, the sword met air once more as they dodged with what seemed to be little effort. Swing after swing, the time-traveler futilely tried cutting down her foe - each attempt becoming harder than the last while fueling her anger to unimaginable heights.
Changing tactics, Kjelle allowed her swing to miss this time before using her momentum to jump forward. Her fingers met fabric-
Something entered her eyes and forced them close. The outstretched hand instinctively retracted to rub whatever substance got into her eye. In doing so, she lost the leverage that would have been her adversary and stumbled before falling face first into the ground. Rubbing her eyes furiously, she cleared them of any excess left behind and glared around her.
All that met her eyes was the mist.
Scrambling to her feet, she circled around in hopes of finding her allusive foe only to be met with a white, hazy-
A sudden light followed by a wave of heat had her jumping to the side. A stream of fire passed shortly after, it's heat threatening to eviscerate her just from being in the vicinity. Loud 'pops' accompanied the flames not long after and Kjelle was immediately engulfed by smoke. She tried covering her mouth, but the black smog had already invaded her lungs, causing wet coughs to emmit from her throat.
Not at all surprised by the cowardice of her opponent anymore, Kjelle quickly retreated back in an attempt to breathe fresh air and get what little visibility she had. Sadly, her retreat was met with resistance in the form of something slamming into her back - pushing her further into the smog. Steadying herself, Kjelle glared in the direction of the attack to be met with black through her watery gaze. A harsh cough had her focusing on the more important matter of her lungs currently being filled with a foreign substance. Every breath she took reminded her of the time she first tried the poison called 'cigarettes' and it only made her more desperate to escape this death trap.
A task better said than done, it would seem. Every time she retreated, something she couldn't see smashed into her with the force of a Paladin and forced her back into the cloud. If that wasn't bad enough, the sound of popping indicated that her adversary was fueling the smog via adding more to it.
This was not good. This wasn't good at all. She could barely breathe and she could feel her body slowly shutting down from the lack of oxygen.
Another blow from the fog nearly knocked her off her feet. Blood filled her mouth while her thoughts became more hazy, the anger she felt from before had slowly been replaced with desperation and fear. Her will to fight had left completely and the will to live had her more desperate for life than she'd ever felt in her 16 years of living.
Something lifted her off her feet.
And sent her flying. She was in the air for an entire second before her body finally met ground. Rolling to a stop, coughs erupted from her throat anew as fresh air began filling them once more. Slowly, her limbs became responsive again along with her visibility returning.
Just enough visibility to see something rush and slam into her - removing the fresh air she'd just inhaled. Once again, she was airborne, but managed to right enough to stand to shakey legs. The blur cleared and Kjelle had enough clarity to swing her sword at the incoming speedster.
Something hit her, both physically and metaphorically. First was the realization that she did not, in fact, have a sword to swing. Where once there was a silver blade was now a fist that swung uselessly through the air.
Ironically, it was also a fist that cracked against her jaw and proceeded to deliver the worst beating she'd ever had in her life.
Fists, kicks, palms and even a headbutt when she tried countering cracked against her face to the point she was in so much pain it was all she could think of. When she was finally given a breather, she was gulping air in gallons. Somewhere between the one sided beating her nose had been cracked, leaving her mouth the only path for air to get through instead of blood. One of her eyes were starting to close shut, hinting at the possibility of a black eye and she was sure the iron she tasted in her mouth was due to her biting her gums after a particular vicious uppercut. She was a mess. Her feet were wobbly, she was out of breath, in pain and could now only see out of one eye. She was sure if the wind blew even slightly then she'd keel over.
Yet, she still stood; guard up and all. It had already been made clear halfway through the one-sided skirmish that, honor or no, her foe was the superior fighter. It truly upset her that, just like her master, she would fall to an honuorless cur. The only relief she could have in such a situation was the fact it wouldn't be from the same hand that slayed her master.
"I... won't fall."
Her to-be killer stared at her; unmoving, untired, and likely unfeeling. She knew not the one hiding their identity with the mist and likely the one that would kill her, yet it didn't matter. What mattered was that she needed to make it clear - clear that, even in death, she would not break her principals.
Looking back, she saw that she'd somehow ended back where the one sided fight had commenced with Cassius now lying, hopefully, unconscious in his own blood. Reaching down, she secured the pole head of her lance before looking back to her killer, resolving herself.
"He... must... face justice..."
"...Even if they don't deserve justice?"
It was the first they'd spoken. She almost didn't catch it due to their distance, nor could she discern their gender. Nevertheless, she did not answer the question for what it was. Those who answered dishonor with dishonor would never understand chivalry. Those who willingly forgo morality and stoop themselves to be dishonorless will never understand chivalry. It is what makes a knight a knight, what keeps the balance, what separates them from the honorless. To protect those who cannot defend themselves and give basic human rights to even the dishonorless. It was her code, one she was not allowed to fulfill in her own world, yet had a chance to win this one thanks to her master.
That's why even if it made her a fool, even if it killed her, she would not change. It is what she swore upon arriving in these lands and what she swore she would uphold in both her master and father's name.
"You're, gonna have... to... kill me." She spoke her resolve clearly, shakily raising the broken weapon in challenge.
"...So be it."
Behind them, eyes of red slowly creeped from the fog. It started off as one, then two, then five - soon being too many to count altogether. Their outlines began to show throw the mist, revealing their true forms and just what the knight was up against. Numerous and wyvern in size, Kjelle had no illusions what was to become of her as the one commanding them slowly raised their sword in her direction.
A sharp whistle followed by a *swish* passed over her head. The cutthroat suddenly stumbled back while another figure landed in front of her. Something was shaking and speaking to her, but the ringing in her ears was now too loud to hear.
She only had time to watch her to-be killer throw something in her direction before the world around her went dark.
Robin held Kjelle in her arms. The knight had definitely seen better days. Her heavy armor was now missing while her face seemed to be nearly unrecognizable under the blood and bruising. She dreaded to think what would have happened to the girl if they hadn't caught the pillar of flame when they did.
Steadying the knight, she looked back to their assailant to find them clutching their arm. The mist did enough to block most of their features, their dark clothing along with the mist proactively hugging their face giving her nothing to go off of.
Which gave her the perfect opportunity to use her eyes. If she used it this close, than maybe she could-
Robin blinked as something black stopped right before entering her left eye. Red soon accompanied the black followed by a hand and the shinobi that was suddenly in front of her. Slowly, she had the right mind to realize Kjelle had gone limp in her arms along with the fact she'd almost died before the knife in the shinobi's hand flashed back at its sender.
A sender that was no longer visible.
The shinobi vanished in the direction not too long after while Robin was forced to catch the knight before she fell face first to the ground. Moments later, Marth appeared from the fog and immediately spotted them. The look of worry on the mask wearer's face was so visible Robin didn't even bother questioning the 'man' on his sudden change of tone.
Shortly after, the mist began to dissipate and Robin was able now able to see the carnage left behind by the illusive figure and their beast's wake. She was also able to see Chrom and his group not far off and yelled for their attention. Grouped once more, Marth wasted no time in demanding a healer while Robin quickly reported to Chrom. Apparently, not a single soldier saw combat while every hosted they knew of were secured. All but one slaver survived and Robin really wondered if it was truly a miracle they not only found the man they were looking for, but found him before he bled out. A few minutes later and their moods wouldn't have been so neutral.
...
The hostages, both of Ylisseam and Feroxian alike, were the first to receive attention. Since the manner was taken was out of fight on their side, making sure the hostages we're all healthy and travel ready was a must. Most wore nothing more than rags which immediately the frostbite some had. Lissa and their healers were able to heal the worst of it, but the trauma they've all been through was a scar they could never heal.
When it came to their temporary allies, the matter couldn't be more confusing. For one, the men dressed as bandits had all but vanished. Marth remained by Kjelle's side throughout most of the aftermath, but his masked companion hadn't been seen since he chased after the creator of the mist.
When he finally did return, it was noon. Appearing none the worse for wear, the man delivered the only bad news of the evening. The one who'd soundly slaughtered the slavers while saving them the trouble had all but vanished along with the creatures; but seeing that the guy practically saved them the trouble of doing it themselves, no one seemed to even care.
Hostages secured, slavers dealt with and their new prisoner locked in chains, the Ylisseans were now ready to depart.
"Are you sure there's nothing we can do to convince you otherwise?" Chrom asked the masked duo across from him, the two shaking their heads once more at the prince's insistence.
"We appreciate the offer, but we must decline. Our blades are currently needed elsewhere." Marth spoke on their behalf, receiving a solemn smile from the prince.
"Pardon, but may I at the very least ask you to remove your mask? In Ylisse, it is courtesy to to do so while in the presence of royalty." Frederick piped up.
The shinobi's mask turned to the knight, "Then it's a good thing we are not in Ylisse." The flat statement had knight and ninja staring each other down. Robin didn't know if it was her imagination or not, but she swore she could see sparks flying between the two.
"I do not mean to hold you further, but are you sure about my friend?"
"Worry not, Marth. Kjelle is in good hands. Her spirit is exactly what we need in the Shepherds."
"That is reassuring." Marth smiled, relieved the knight would be in good hands.
"And what about the slaver? What will you do with him now?" Haku asked pointedly towards the Prince.
"He'll be delivered to Khan Flavia where he will likely spend the rest of his days in chains, if not put to the sword." Chrom reassured,
"...I see." The shinobi replied before his hand extended towards the Prince. "Till we meet again?"
Instinctively, Robin looked to the hand - the same hand that had saved her life not hours ago. The white skin could be seen clearly to the albino, fingernails trimmed to perfection and looking a lot softer than she thought possible for a self proclaimed 'ninja'.
Which was exactly the mystery. She was quite literally right there when the man had saved her with his own hand, yet there was no evidence of it that she could see. She'd say it was probably the trick of the light, but something told her it was more than that. She'd had thanked the man (Naga knows she had plenty of opportunities), yet the thought of ulterior motives behind keeping her alive kept her far away.
Chrom extended his own hand to meet the man's, covering up the mystery once and for all.
"Until we meet again, friend."
...
An hour later after both groups had gone their own ways, a tree shook violently before toppling over. Snow and leaves rose from the impact, scattering nearby wildlife.
From the wreckage, a head emerged from the snow to reveal a mop of gold hair. At once, a hand shot up to the cloth in her mouth. Ripping it free, she breathed her first breath of fresh air in hours before scanning her surroundings. Covered in snow, leaves, rope and dirt, Morgan Uzumaki glared nowhere particularly as a fact quickly sunk in.
"Those jerks completely forgot about meeeeeeeeeee!"
For Robin, returning to the Eastern Feroxian Castle was the experience she was particularly looking forward to. Securing their target had effectively garnered them the position as the East Champion. However, the tactician wished Chrom wasn't so insistent on her meeting the Khan in person. Now, standing in the throne room of East Regna Ferox, Robin was not only tired, but humiliated.
When she thought of 'leader of barbarians', as Maribelle so elegantly put it back in Ylisse, the word 'woman' never came to mind despite Chrom using the pronoun throughout their travel to Kidnapper's Keep. Her immediate image of the Khan was a mountain of a man with unparalleled thew, his broad chest covered in hair and sweat. It didn't exactly help that the image she was portraying in her mind just so happened to be fueled by the smut novel Sumia had recommended her not too long ago. Gods, just thinking about it made a giggle escape her lips.
Then she realize she was quite literally thinking out loud. Everyone in the room was now looking right at her along with Lady Emmeryn and the most powerful woman in Regna Ferox that had walked out when she wasn't looking.
"Am I, now? Please, do go on!" The voice was teasing, but Robin was too busy gaping like a fish to respond.
"Please forgive her, Khan Flavia. The trip has been weighing heavily on her since we left." Chrom, thankfully, came to her rescue. Flavia laughed along with the Exalt while the tactician attempted to make herself one with the background.
"Think nothing of it, Prince. Just happy to know your band of heroes are all so entertaining. Still get a laugh out of the blonde till this day!"
Explanation time. When Robin declined to meet the Khan, Vaike was all too happy to take her place to the dismay of Lissa and the rest. Miriel tagged along to keep the man in check, but none of them were exactly prepared for when the Khan walked out.
Like Robin, their picture of the Khan was masculine; maybe not to the same degree as the tactician, but semantics. They all expected a mountain of a man to walk out, but was greeted with the amazon/not amazon woman walking their way with a confident stride befitting a warrior.
Khan Flavia was tall (for a woman), standing about 5"10 with mocha-skin and blonde hair in a messy pony-tail. The red and white sleeveless armor she wore showed the woman was damn near as defined as sculptures while the left arm was covered by a shield that wrapped around the arm. A battle skirt stopped halfway up her thighs, many of them had probably never seen or even knew it was possible to sculp ones legs into such a piece of art.
Vaike summed up most of their thoughts with a well placed 'DAMN' before he was dragged away by the ear from a, surprisingly irritated, Miriel.
"I must say, you've all surprised me. I didn't think it was possible, but you actually brought the worm back; alive, at that! Reliability like that is hard to come by. I'd snatch you for myself if you weren't already taken!"
The innuendo went right over Chrom's head despite his elder sister's muffled giggles. "So, does that mean we have your support?"
"You bet yer arse you do!" The Khan exclaimed, a cheshire grin splitting her face "Hell, when I asked you to bring em back alive I didn't think you'd slaughter the lot of em. Guess yer not as green as ya appear, Prince."
"We, had help," Chrom replied indulgently, not exactly thrilled about the praise or anything he'd seen that night.
"Help or not, ya did the impossible and I'm a Khan of my word. Get yerselves rested up and enjoy whatever luxury we have on hand as a reward. The tourney isn't too far around the corner now and I need you lot at yer-"
"Khan Flavia!" A voice cried, garnering the attention of everyone in the room. A knight rushed in, the helmet covering his eyes doing nothing to hide the naked fear in his voice. "Forgive me, your highness, but the prisoner! H-he's-"
...
The body laid still in his cell. His glassy eyes stared motionlessly at the ceiling while his mouth hung open. Red dripped down his mouth, trailing down his wrinkled jaw, and into the new hole opened in his neck.
Flavia stared down at her one, and likely only, chance she had at getting one over on Basilio with open-mouthed astonishment. Chrom, Frederick, Robin, Phila and Emmeryn arrived not to shortly after. Phila saved Emmeryn from the sight immediately upon seeing it, but could not do the same for her Prince as he stopped right next to the Khan.
The shock he and Robin felt couldn't exactly be described. The slaver they'd escorted barely 2 hours ago now laid motionless in his cell, a visible hole now arced across his neck.
Flavia passed by them during their state of shock to lift the knight that had reported the body right off his feet. They would be amazed at the strength if it wasn't for the gravity of the situation.
"Who else came in here besides you? Who were the guards stationed here?" Her voice was as cold as ice, a large contrast to the jovial one she'd throughout all their conversations.
"I-it was Rivers and Lloyd, ma'am. Th-they both claim the knight commander herself came with replacements, yet there was no one here when I arrived during my patrols, nor did I see the knight commander coming or going!"
"Bullshit! I gave Roman specific orders on how to handle the shifts along with trusted men! You tellin' me Roman is a traitor?!"
"I-i-it is what they say happened, Ma'am! The guards ate the gates say the same thing, yet they were unable to spot those same knights or Commander Roman departing the jail! This is all I know, Ma'am, I swear!"
Flavia dropped the man on his rear, the man quickly getting back to his feet before awaiting further orders on shakey legs. It was at that moment the Khan took her frustration out on a nearby wall via slamming her first into it. Cracks ran up the cobblestone along with the Khan's blood as her teeth threatened to shatter under the pressure.
"Damn it!" Her fist met the wall again, the blood enough to splatter against the ground. "Damn you to hell, Basilio."
Everyone gave the Khan the space she likely needed, but alas, it was Chrom who had to ask the question that was now plaguing every Ylisseam in the vicinity. "What, does this mean, now?"
She didn't immediately, but when she did, she stared right into his eyes so he could see the fire within them. "I'm, a Khan of my word. In two weeks, you'll represent East and we will win." The conviction in her voice stated that there was no other choice but victory for them
"But promise me one thing," Chrom and Robin made sure not to look away from the gaze of the most powerful woman they'd likely ever meet. "Make damn sure the fight isn't even close."
The heavy doors of Western Regna Ferox's Castle gates opened. Two figures walked in casually till they were what they thought was a respectable distance from the throne. Sitting in the wooden ornament Basilio looked down to the two travelers that had graced his court not too long ago. Like the noble the young woman of the two revealed to be, she held a hand over her heart and bowed in her show of respect while the shinobi stood tall.
"It is done, Khan Basilio."
A smirk stretched his mug.
Omake:
If it isn't the Consequences of my Actions
"It's here! It's finally here!" Naruto hugged the mountain of plastic cups, lovingly rubbing his cheek against the sides of the proclaimed 'food of the Gods'. "Who missed you? Daddy did. Yes he did~, yes he did~."
"What! Where did you get all of that?!" Morgan yelled hysterically from her perch on their bed.
"It was a blessing from the Gods for my continued faithful devotion over the centuries. I knew my faith would be answered in time. And people say Kami doesn't exist." The blonde laughed before whipping out a scroll and making the hill of containers disappear in a cloud of smoke along with the small toad. No matter how many times she saw it, Lucina could never not admit how fascinating it was while silently wondering if she would one day be able to do the same.
"Wha - but if you could do that from the beginning then why didn't you do it WEEKS ago?"
"Ok. One: I did. Two: it takes waaaaaay too much chakra to get just one decently sized Toad from the Nations to here. And three: time doesn't run the same there as it does here. I can send a messager Toad to get me something from the Nations and it would take short of three weeks to a month for them to get it to me. In short, it takes a long ass time to get Ramen from another dimension and I'm not willing to be a vegetable for a day because Kurama is a selfish furry."
Morgan paused to do the math in her head while the 'selfish furry' sent his host the mental image of a furry middle finger.
"But if it takes so much to manifest just one of these creatures, why even use them? Don't you have alternative methods or summons?" Lucina inquired, curious of the logic.
"Nope. And even if I did, the Toads of Mount Myoboku aren't exactly popular among majority of the other summons. Most nowadays won't even contract with me while some of the more aggressive types don't even interact with humans anymore. So since they are the most mobile summon I know on top of being with me since I was a shrimp, I think I can settle waiting an hour or even a month than deal with assholes that will likely drop me somewhere down the road."
"An hour?" Lucina pondered, puzzled at the sudden change in length. "I thought you said it took a month?"
"Yes, but when they are ready, they send a messager before I summon them here--hence, the hour. Apparently, their dimension is one of the furthest away from this one, so it takes quite some time for them to squeeze theirs to here. Yeah, I got lost somewhere between them explaining dimension hopping and Ramen. But on the bright side, it's safe to say that, if I don't want all my chakra sucked dry from even my bones, a Chief Toad from Mount Myoboku will never step foot on these lands."
Lucina wasn't exactly sure what a 'Chief' Toad was, but felt as if she was robbed of an opportunity.
"Wait," Morgan spoke up, apparently catching an important fact in her calculations. "Dad, that jutsu you used back in the forest near South Town - the one where you made a Toad drop on that big guy. That was a summon, right?"
"Uh, Yeah. And?"
"And you said it takes an hour or two in order to get anything from the summoning realm back in the Elemental Nations to Archanean, right?"
"Uh, yeah? Where are you going with this, brat?" He asked annoyed, Lucina just as lost as he.
"If it takes an hour for a Toad to be summoned from their dimension to ours what were you doing exactly 40 minutes before that Toad was summoned?"
The older blonde went to reply.
His mouth slowly closed.
Visible bullets of sweat began to poor down his face as he could feel the very moment Lucina realized what Morgan had. Hair rising, the former Hokage knew he was but a wrong answer away from detonating a nuke.
"Uh," was his choked response, the brain frantically searching for the words its host desperately needed. "I, believed in you guys?"
Morgan was silent.
Lucina was silent.
Naruto was silent.
Kurama was silent.
Chibi Kurama was silent.
The bustling of city life outside the inn became still.
Four eyes peered into two, all equally unmoved.
...
*SLAM*
*CRACK*
Jeanne's soul (and likely anyone in the vicinity) nearly left her body when the crash first rung through the Inn's lobby. Her initial thoughts were bandits, but remembered she was in the heart of West Regna Ferox City and no longer the country side. Her next thought was an invasion from some unknown secret society of dragon folk that were finally here to seek vengeance on the humans that nearly turned them extinct, but remembered she'd just gotten to that chapter last night. Gosh, who knew reading could be so much fun.
The reality was a lot more shocking, yet not exactly disappointing. Once the debris cleared and the waitress finally found the guts to peer over the table she hid under, she saw the splintered wood around the Inn before her gaze peered up to where it was mainly centered.
Embedded into the roof was a blonde's head. Mixed with blonde was red, likely blood, dripping from the forehead while a whiskered face beastman bearing eyes as blue as the sky stared blankly forward.
A very familiar beastman, at that.
"M-Mr Uzumaki?" As she'd hoped, the blonde's head turned ever so slightly to lock eyes with her. Recognition showed on his face despite it not changing much overall.
"Oh. Hey, uh, Jeanne, right? It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
"5 years, to be exact." Jeanne replied conversationally. "I, honestly didn't expect us to meet again, much less like... this. How has things been? What brings you back to Regna Ferox?"
"Nothing really. Just... dropping in... I guess."
"Oh..." The brunette replied, awkwardly shuffling in place at the abrupt end of the conversation the head didn't seem to want to continue. "Um, honestly, I, thought you forgot about me."
"Not really. If anything, I thought you'd forgotten about me seeing that you're working in town and there's now a ring on your finger."
No. No she most definitely did not forget. In fact, it's very hard to forget the man that utterly rocked her world in the best (and last) One Night Stand before meeting her husband. She loved Jason very much, but their love making didn't hold a candle to the blonde. In a way, the man truly was the beastman her books often portrayed.
"You're, not exactly 'forgettable', Mr Uzumaki... In many ways."
"I see..."
"..."
"..."
"...Um, do, you need some help?"
"...No. No, I don't think I do. For once, I think I'm content with suffering the consequences of my actions."
"Oh..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Ssssoooooo... wanna do it? For old times sake?"
"Um, I'm, uh, married now, Mr Uzumaki."
"Oh, forgot about that... Congratulations?"
"Um, thanks, Mr Uzumaki."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Well, this, is kinda awkward."
"...Very."
A/N: Poor Roman. Taking the fall for another politicians machinations...
I personally feel like this is how Kjelle's character was portrayed to us in Awakening. When you first meet her, it's outside of a fort with over 20 units that were more skilled than her in every difficulty and could easily deal with her on their own. On top of that, she knew what she was getting into when she saw her master defeated and yet still charged forward blockheadedly demanding he 'challenge' her? If that doesn't speak 'chivalrous knight' then I honestly don't know what the word chivalry means.
Next chapter we move into the Arena. Letting you know now that a lot will kind of stay the same, aside from the fight with the Shepherds. Thrust me, already have it planned out and am ready to deliver after this lackluster paralogue...
On that subject, I had to scrap 6k words. The direction it was going completely made the Shepherds look like the bad guys despite them doing the 'right thing' and it made them all look like complete hypocrites considering what Robin told Kjelle last chapter. So yes, this was originally 14k long and I will forever cry salty tears at the 6k that didn't make it :(.
Just want to put it out there that you should really pay attention to random dialogues. In almost every chapter I have hinted to a paralogue and even who ends up with who. Won't be giving out who the Shepherds ultimately end up with because it's a lot better for you to read and witness it than for me to tell you.
Also, there is a very specific reason I asked who you guys wanted to be Morgan's mother in this story. You probably won't know why till about the 3rd Arc but I can promise you it will be worth it!
Comments:
Amemer: Like that idea. Always wanted to have Tiki appear a lot sooner and still have plans for her. Won't spoil anything, so all I will say is her appearance throws something off that Lucina mentions back in chapter 4. The more I here about a harem option the more I want to do it, yet at the same time I don't think I know how to make it work. Tiki, Robin and Lucina are currently at the top of the list, but no matter how I see it, I can't see this Naruto going for more than one woman. My mind might change later down the line, but for now I'm going to stick with who I find has the most votes. Will keep Tiki in mind tho!
Random guy718: absolutely see what you mean. Currently, Robin is in the mind that Naruto is nothing but a danger to her continued existence. Changing what she feels about Naruto would mean I have to completely turn her perceived thoughts of Naruto upsidedown and bake it if they are ever going to have a chance at a relationship. However, currently, she going off of what she thinks and not what she knows for a fact. I would say more on that but don't want to ruin the reading experience. However, within the next 5 chapters I clear things up and we are both happy with the results :)
That's all for this chapter folks. Won't give any promises on the next chapter seeing that I failed my last one, but next does t take to long.
Next Chapter: Like a man Possessed