WARNING: The first part of this story will have an incredible amount of mushiness. I repeat, the first part will have an incredibly mushy moment. You have been warned and I still don't own the game and only own my characters.

And to Eclissy, thanks for catching those and thanks for the feedback! I'll try to avoid those mistakes in the future chapters. This is my first time writing completely in first person so I still lapse back into past tense...but I'll do my best to avoid those in the future...and it's not actually the title that bothers me...I meant the summary...it bothers me a little...

Let the chapter begin!

Chapter Three: A Bad Night and A Happy Day

The walk back home was...excruciating, to say the least.

Each and every step of the way, I had to suppress the urge to run for it, the idea of disappointing my parents gnawing at my insides the more I thought about it. Still, I walk on, Sir Loin's words echoing in my ears with each step. He really is a good friend...what did I do to deserve good friends again? I sigh. Nothing. The gigantic chocolate cake, in an equally huge box which I had to carry with both arms, reminded me of this fact with each step I took. Considering the distance between Oaklore and Swordhaven, along with my own slowness, I was reminded more times than I cared to remember.

But still, the distance was painfully short. I was at Swordhaven's gates by sundown.

I stare at the gates, still looking panicked enough to incite a few concerned 'Miss? Is there something wrong miss?' from some of the Swordhaven knights, before I walk forward, taking several deep breaths to calm my nerves. No use panicking about it now, I think to myself firmly. You already know that your mother's gonna kill you and that your father's gonna disown you so it's best not to think about those facts and-

...I don't think that my encouraging mantras are working too well.

I walk on, feeling colder and colder with every step though the sun's setting rays still flooded the capital with warm light. The way to my house usually took me a little over five minutes to reach, what with the house being in the residential area and all that but today...it's a torturously short distance. Even counting the times I stopped to wave to someone I knew, the walk seemed...instant. I had only just gotten in the residential area when a distinct voice cut sharply through the noises of the capital.

"Greta! Back already? Good! Hurry home. I made your favourite dinner and you don't want it to get TOO cold now, do you?"

I freeze. Staring out of the window on the second floor of our house, which was only a block away, was the currently smiling form of my mother. With her black hair swaying loosely in the wind, the rays of the setting sun lending her face a soft glow, she was a gentle, motherly sight.

Now I REALLY don't want to break the news to her.

Still, I manage a weak smile and an even weaker wave. This apparently satisfies my mother who waves back cheerfully before saying: "I'll see you at dinner then! I expect to see good results with that Fedalaim potion, young lady! Or else!" The window slams shut and I freeze up again, blood draining from my face and my grip on the cake box growing stronger.

FUUUUUU-

The door to my house is made out of dull brown wood with a dulling bronze knocker. The walls were made out of painted bricks, like all the others are, with wooden shutters and darkly-tinted glass. It has two floors and the upper floor has wooden shutters instead of glass panes for windows. The lamp next to door is unlit which means that papa hasn't gotten out of his cozy chair yet.

...somehow reciting these facts in my head, delaying my meeting with my parents in the process, seems to be the right thing to do at the moment.

However, mother just LOOOOVES to burst my bubble...even without doing it intentionally, she really is dang good at that.

The front door slams outward, my mother standing at the doorway. The sudden shock of it sends me stumbling downward, leaving me on the ground with the cake box near crushed at my back.

Knowing full well that my mother would only be amused by this turn of events, I pull myself upwards, taking my cake box in the process. Mother smiles at me sweetly, gesturing at me to come in. I smile, very weakly, and walk in.

"I brought cake." I mumble as I walk in, leaving the box on one of the side tables before near collapsing at my usual spot at the dinner table. As my mother promised, the table was set up with my favourite dinner: chicken stewed in ginger and vegetables, a bowl of still steaming rice and a pitcher of ice cold apple juice. The plates were already set up so I didn't need to do them like I usually did.

Somehow, this fact just made me feel worse.

Mother looks at me expectantly from her spot across me and I lower my gaze, pretending to examine my serving of chicken. A fat drumstick and a portion of the breast.

Why does everything in this world wanna make me feel guilty about the potion?

I poke at my food, feeling too guilty to eat. My parents, however, seem to be oblivious to this fact, happily tucking into their own servings and chatting animatedly with each other as they ate. After dinner though, I could definitely feel them staring at me. I flush slightly with the realization and make a show of wiping my face clean of any stray food bits.

"Don't worry dear, your face is clean. We were just wondering...how did the quest go?"

My hand freezes in place, mother's voice cutting through my little act. Damn it...

I look up. Both of my parents were looking expectantly at me. Papa even left our leftovers uneaten. This was serious. Very VERY serious.

"What happened to the Fedalaim, Greta?" Mother asks, looking casual, one hand absentmindedly twirling a lock of her hair. Honestly. Could she get any more obvious?

"I...er...um...the potion...well it...er..." I stammer, looking wildly around the room for anything that could help. Well mother seems to have replaced the white curtains with new red ones...

"...well I'm glad to see that you noticed the new curtains but I believe that I was asking you a question, Greta."

...Mothers. Why do THEY get to read their daughters' minds? Why can't I learn how to do that? I open my mouth and stutter a little more. Think Greta think. How can you make your little...potions accident seem less...stupid? "I erm...I kinda...um..."

...great job, Elsa Margrete. You are DEFINITELY the picture of smoothness.

"Kinda what?"

"I er..."

"Spit it out already!" Mother barks out.

Without meaning to, I blurt out. "IkindagotthepotiontoexplodewhenIgotattackedbyagor illaphant." I blurt out rapidly. Then I shut my mouth. If I was lucky, my words were too quick for my parents to understand.

And, as usual, the exact opposite happened.

"You got the potion to explode?" Mother says, very slowly and deliberately. I gulp. "Well? Answer me."

I look down. "I was sorta attacked by a monster in Oaklore and the potion exploded in the fight." Nervously, I lift a hand to smooth my hair and a hand grabs my wrist roughly. I wince, wrist beginning to throb again, and stand up, trying to face whoever the wrist-grabber was. It's my father.

I didn't even notice him getting out of his seat. How did he...?

Papa pulls my glove off, revealing the bandages around my wrist. One eyebrow raised, he pulls back the scarf I had wrapped around my head (it rained on the way home) with his free hand, revealing the bandage around my head.

I had honestly forgotten about those. The headache medicine Sir Junn had given me worked wonders on my headache and my wrists were already healing fine, thanks to some health potion. But still, they hadn't completely healed and according to Sir Junn, it would take at least five hours for my injuries to heal completely.

"Where did you get these injuries?" Papa asks, looking stern.

I look down. "I really was attacked by a gorillaphant. It nearly killed me too..."

"Greta..." It's mother who says my name. She doesn't believe me. Of course she doesn't. She's probably really freaking pissed at me for destroying one of her handicrafts. I wonder what kind of rant she'll unleash on me this time. Without thinking, I blurt out.

"I know...I failed at the potion...but if you give me a chance, I can make it up to you! I'll make the Fedalaim from scratch myself this time and I'll be really really careful so if you can...if you'll give me a chance I can-"

"Greta." Mother says my name again, softer this time. "I'm not angry at you."

...she's not? But...I read that in the Advanced Guide to Alchemy that the reagents for Fedalaim Potion were...well...pretty dang pricey. And mama...she REALLY doesn't like wasting money. Blowing up that Fedalaim Potion, if I remember the pricing of the necessary reagents correctly, wasted at least thirty thousand in gold. Never mind my getting injured, this was a serious waste of money! Why ISN'T she angry with me? Where's my punishment? Did she get hit in the head or something lately?

Before I can ask, father speaks. "Greta...we're not mad at you. We really aren't."

"But..." Did father get hit in the head too? Did a vase fall on their heads or something?

"And before you ask, NO. No vases, anvils or anything of that sort fell on our heads this morning. Honestly Greta, stop being so pessimistic. You mean a great deal to us."

I blink. Wow...really? I actually meant something to someone? The thought filled me with warmth. To actually mean something in this world.

Mother gets up from her chair, giving me a stare that I couldn't understand. Is that concern or understanding? Honestly speaking, I can't really understand this situation. Mother...no...Mama walks over to my side, still giving that incomprehensible stare before taking me in her arms, hugging me tightly to her chest. Before I knew it, papa lets go of my wrist and joins the hug.

"I'm sorry." Mama whispers. "I honestly thought that there was no danger in your going to Oaklore. I'm sorry for putting you through that."

I swallow, suddenly remembering my desperation for my parents during the gorillaphant attack and my old fear of getting abandoned by my parents. This one moment was all it took to banish those old fears and insecurities. Then my father took this to a new level with his next words.

"We love you. We'd never put you through anything like that intentionally. We only thought that you needed some time out in the sun with your old friends...sorry..."

And for that one moment, I felt loved. I felt that I wasn't just a failed expectation. I was someone cherished by the people I cared about the most. My eyes water.

"I love you too."

Mama tucked me in that night. After I told her the full story on how the gorillaphant attacked and how the potion exploded, my mother was adamant in my going to bed early, at least just a few hours earlier than usual. It felt like only a few minutes had passed when my mother shook me awake.

Let me get one thing straight. I am NOT a morning person. Waking me up from a short nap sometimes took as long as half an hour. I REALLY hate getting out of bed.

Unfortunately, my mother knew just how to get me out of bed.

...One bucket of ice cold water later...

"Why do we need to do this again?" I mutter groggily under my breath, shifting into the usual battle position, my dagger held carefully in my left hand. It was really late, almost midnight when mama dragged me into the backyard, ordering me to get dressed and get my dagger ready. Honestly speaking, I still feel sleepy even WITH the ice water. Mama surveys my position with a critical expression, correcting any mistakes she found in my stance and mumbling fervently under her breath. At the moment, she was wearing her old rogue armor (gray trimmed green) and had her own dagger held at the ready. She steps back and watches me for a moment or two.

"Because the fact that you need to know how to defend yourself. I think that you've been slacking off on your dagger training and we'll have to rectify that. The fact that you nearly got killed earlier proves that you need more practice. Now." She smiles, readying her own jewelled daggers. "Fight."

Before we arrived at the backyard, mama had set up a training dummy of sorts. It was really just a coat rack with pillows strapped around it and with a bucket for a head but she assured me that it would work fine.

I groan softly under my breath but I comply, charging at the dummy with my blade, stopping just a few feet before thrusting at the torso. Once. Twice. Thrice. As soon as I finish the fourth stab, I withdrew my blade and leap back, shifting into battle position as soon as I land. The dummy's bleeding feathers after my move. Okay...the move was done with sufficient power and my stance was pretty good. Ma should be satisfied by that one. I look over to where my mother was standing. Surprisingly, she's frowning. Okay...what did I screw up there? I was pretty sure I got the move right.

She moves over to where I'm standing and watches me intently. "Dear...there's a new fighting style I want to teach you."

This confuses me. "What...what do you mean?"

"There's a new style of dagger wielding which I think will suit you far more than the old one. Now...watch me."

Mama takes a deep breath before shifting into a stance I couldn't recognize. Unlike the rigid stance I often took on when wielding a knife, this stance seemed more...relaxed. The posture was bowed and just a little slouched, unlike the straight backed posture of the first style, and the legs were set farther apart. While the first style was rigid though graceful, everything seemingly measurable in ninety degree angles, the second was relaxed, almost lazy. However, I know full well about how looks could be deceiving. Upon closer inspection, mama seems ready to take off at a moment's notice.

"Okay." I say slowly, moving to emulate her position. To my surprise, mama shakes her head.

"Not yet. First...watch how this goes. Count from one to three and I'll show you how the new style goes. It's almost completely different from the old one so watch closely."

I step backwards before counting, albeit rather slowly. "Three...two...one!"

As soon as I say one, mama bounds forward. Each step seeming like a small leap, I could see what she meant about the new style being almost completely different. As soon as she reached striking distance of the dummy, she doesn't stop (something which rather interested me) and instead pivots on her heel, her daggers held ready (and backwards, I notice) then spins on her heel before leaping backwards to a quiet halt, shifting into position as soon as her feet touched the ground. I stare quietly at the dummy. It was a pitiful thing now, near torn to shreds.

...wow. That was cool.

"Got it? The fundamental difference between the two styles is the new one's focus on dexterity rather than strength. This style focuses on footwork, flexibility..."

Now begins another of my mother's long lessons. Under her watchful eye, I learn how to do that twisty attack thing, how to throw knives more accurately and how to stun. Currently speaking, the last one is still a work in progress.

I clench my teeth, trying to reign in my sleepiness (it's almost dawn...) before trying again, spinning wildly on my heel with my daggers outstretched. As usual, I miss the shot entirely, hitting not the training dummy but the fence, leaving another mark on the wood. It might just be my imagination but the new dummy looks almost triumphant. I huff in annoyance, leaping back into starting position, automatically shifting into a battle stance. I got the footwork down at least, I think to myself. Now if only I could improve my aim...

Mama runs over to where I'm standing, her daggers sheathed at her belt. "Come on! Greta! You can do this." she urges me, looking encouraging. I sigh, sheathing my own knife.

"I can't do this." I mutter. "It's...too confusing...I just can't handle the dagger flippy thing you want to teach me...I just can't flip a knife backwards without confusing myself...it's really disorienting...I can't cope..."

"YOU CAN!" Mama retorts, hands on hips. "You just have to believe in yourself!"

I stare at her. "Ma...you sound like someone from a cheesy action comic."

She sighs. "Just do it already...you have the potential to become a powerful rogue and we should really nurture that potential...you could be great."

"I don't want to be a rogue. I want to be a Royal Alchemist, remember?" I reply, looking stubborn as I fiddle around with my dagger.

She glares. Crap. Serious. Very serious. "Do it. Or ELSE." With her eyes flashing a molten gold, and her grip tightening around the handles of her daggers, she looked like almost demonic with rage.

I gulp.

I admit that I have my moments of stupidity but even I know when to stop. "Okay mother...I'll learn..."

And eventually, I do.

I yawn widely as I stand alone in the potion making lab, my potionmaking equipment ready. Just a few minutes ago, my mother told me to prepare the reagents needed for the Fedalaim potion...only half an hour after our knife wielding practice.

A transmutation circle? Check. The necessary reagents and runestones? Check. A lab coat? Check. Heavy duty gloves, goggles and mask? Check. A cauldron for the potion? Check. A potion bottle (extra durability)? Check.

Through the window of the potion making room, mama gives me the thumbs up as she and papa eat breakfast. My stomach rumbles but I ignore it. If I don't make this right, I won't have breakfast...Eh, and I could also blow up the house but that's beside the point.

Still, this is what I've been trained to do. Not knife-wielding, not cooking, not anything. Potion making. I'm in my element. Relax.

Still, I don't. No matter how many potions I brew, I still can't get over the feeling of fear bubbling deep in the pit of my stomach. Butterflies in my stomach? Hah. I have a whole zoo in here. Looking over the potion recipe along with all of the other reagents brings up a fear so intense, I almost want to laugh. Still, this is it. Breathe girl. This is it. This is your moment. Time to show your parents just how good you are at potion making. You are a winner. You are a potion maker. You are a Royal Alchemist...

Show time.

The essence of pondroot first. Mix it in with the crushed gem leaves then begin the first stabilization. The transmutation circle glows under my fingertips, the gems embedded in the key points of the circle starting to glow gold with power. Almost hesitantly, I trace the first pattern needed for the first stabilization. The gems glowed in the needed order so I didn't have to work all that hard for it...

NOT.

If I missed even one stone, the whole reaction could collapse and the building could explode. Add the fact that the glow of the jewels faded quickly and I was almost a nervous wreck. Still, I do it.

Make them proud, girl.

As soon as I finish the first transmutation, the circle glows a blinding white as it hovered over the cauldron. As soon as this happened, I take the circle off the cauldron and replace it with a more elaborate purple one, which hovered just a little higher than the first. Through the translucent middle of the circle, the reagents in the cauldron simmer a dull scarlet...good.

After the first stabilization, I start adding in the new ingredients. The seeds of a sweetpalm and the nectar of a bloodlily...crushed pretzel roots with a dash of silver dust...then the Avira rune stone and fragments of gemeralds...the seed of a slimebush...stir it all with a sapphirine and...

One of the stones of the second circle began to flash purple. Time for the second transmutation. I touch the first stone and a second stone glows purple. I trace the new patterns, my fingertip glowing a faint violet as I trace runes and sequences. This new circle has more complex patterns than the former but the glow of the stones fade more slowly so the difficulty is roughly the same level. As soon as I finish the fifth pattern, the contents of the cauldron begin to glow a faint pink and the potion starts to smell like a burning newspaper.

Good...and bad.

The potion is almost at a critical stage. There can be no room for errors now. Or else...I whip off the second transmutation circle and set it aside. Now to add the last of the reagents.

It's a good thing I already set up the ingredients before hand or I might've added the amounts all wrong. A bottle of pure spring water (the contents of the cauldron smoke a virulent green), 450 grams of leech juice (the cauldron begins emitting white hot sparks which would've hurt if I wasn't wearing protective gear), the feathers of a jungle fury frozen in ice then melted (the cauldron sparks up more powerfully), the essence of a lava glob (the cauldron hisses, releasing a rusty red steam), and finally, the most important ingredient of all...

500 grams of pure lime juice.

As soon as I add in the needed amount, an explosion rips through the room with blinding speed. I cover my face, ducking as the cauldron flares up with golden light, the contents of the cauldron releasing shockwaves of energy, practically forcing the cauldron to leave an imprint on the wooden table. The loud BANG! echoes through all the rooms in the house and the room is left blackened by the explosion.

And in the cauldron is the Fedalaim potion, colored a perfect shade of orange

After I finish the perfected potion, I set off again towards Oaklore Keep. Why? Because we still don't have any everblooms. Oh the irony...Oh well. This time, I walk the whole way to Oaklore Keep, carrying the chest at my back. The whole journey took me three hours...normally, it would've been just a two hour walk but since I only ate a bite for breakfast and didn't get so much as an hour of sleep, I think my slowness is justified.

When I reach Oaklore forests, I hesitate. I can see Sir Noob's cliff from here. There, I knew, I would find a small clump of everblooms growing by the cliff side which would mean a quick end to my quest. But still...

I don't wanna go there.

I mean...it's just a place and...it's not as if the place is gonna bite me or something but...

I don't know. Maybe I have some sort of trauma or something. But still...for all I know, there might be a huge herd of gorillaphants living there...or maybe Fate will start trying to kill me if I try to go back. All I'm sure of is the fact that I don't wanna go back there...

With these words ringing soundly in my head, I walk over to a different section of Oaklore forest, one closer to the path to Falconreach. There was a bigger chance of me finding some bandits or some bears there but for some reason, I find those a more attractive option than going to the cliff.

Stupidity levels: +1.

Again, finding a new clump of everblooms is almost insultingly easy, taking very little effort, especially compared to the effort I put into making the Fedalaim. Finishing the potion was almost as easy since I didn't have to worry about stabilizing reactions or memorizing rune circles. It's what happens AFTER that really got me on a rollercoaster ride. As soon as I finished adding in the necessary amount of everblooms and sealed the bottle, I hear a loud noise.

Feeling an incredible sense of déjà vu, I stow the chest with the potion in the branches of a tree, reaching out on tiptoes, before drawing my dagger then rushing off towards the sound. Why I even looked for the noise is beyond me...it was an action guided completely by instinct. The sound...it was the sound of metal crumpling after a hit...

Sweet Lords...I hope the Knights are okay.

With my potion satchel hanging reassuringly around my waist, I run.

The noise is coming from the main path to the Keep. Making a quick decision, I decide to keep going on the path I had started on, a path hidden from the main path, then dashed off to the source of the noise as quickly as I could.

The sight that greeted me was like that of a nightmare.

Two knights were on the ground, clutching their heads, completely knocked out. Judging by the dents on their helms, I guessed that they were hit on the head by something heavy. If this was any other day, I'd have guessed that Sir Prize or Sir Kuss had gone a little too far with their little pranks.

However, the bandits standing over them, holding out massive maces, told a completely different story.

With their clothes, sets of light looking leather armor in shades of tan, brown and green, with grassy-green bandannas and masks, their distinctive uniforms marked them as part of the Dark Wolf bandits, one of those organizations hell bent on ruining everyone's day. As if to prove my point, they wielded the giant, spiky looking maces that Dark Wolves preferred, according to Sir Vey's findings...at least if Sir Vey's skills are as top notch as ever. Which they ARE.

Behind them stood a man clad in a similar clothing...only in different, grassier-looking colors, without the bandannas and mask and with a dark purple cape. He had spiky looking black hair and held a rather elaborate looking sword in his hand.

My first thought when I saw him was: 'Wow. How much gel does this guy have go through to get his hair like that?'

My second thought was: 'This guy...probably one of the higher ups if his sword is THAT fancy looking...' Of course I knew that there were a lot of fancier looking swords in Lore. In fact, I once watched my mother enchant a fancy blade such as that. But as the Dark Wolf bandits were an organization that pretty much shunned the use of magic, those kinds of swords were reserved for the higher ups. His was a nice looking sword, somewhat pretty with an elaborately made hilt and a shining blade. Probably a mid-level boss or something.

His next words alerted me to something else though. "Give us the box Priestess," he growled. Judging by his voice, I'd guess that he's not much older than I am. His voice was almost...leering. I almost want to hit the guy. "And we'll kill you quickly."

Priestess?

I look further from where the knights lay. Lady Celestia...

The Lady was standing with her back to a tree, keeping the chest from yesterday between her and the tree. Twilly was there too, holding out his staff almost threateningly as Mr. Pretty-Blade waved his sword around like some sort of maniac.

"Do you know who I AM?!" he practically shouted, seeing the Lady's resolute expression. "I am DRAKATH! Leader of the Dark Wolf bandits and the rightful ruler of this land!"

...is he monologuing? Seriously? If he's gonna try to get away after this, shouting around his name within the vicinity of Oaklore Keep and, by extension, Captain Rolith's giant hammer is a really bad idea. Also, leader? Wow...the Dark Wolves must have really low standards if they're setting a guy who has no sense of stealth as their leader. And rightful ruler? King Alteon is the rightful ruler and NOTHING will change that. Delusional maniac...

Lady Celestia, almost as if under divine guidance, catches my eye and mouths one word: 'Help'.

As Drakath continues his monologue, I start to think. I just have to help the Lady and the knights. I HAVE to. The Knights...they're my friends...some of my only friends...I have to protect them. And the Lady...I don't know. It's almost as if some voice in my head was yelling at me to protect her. Maybe...I'm a delusional little girl myself. I don't care.

I HAVE to do this.

It looks like Drakath's monologuing is taking everyone's attention for the moment. The Dark Wolf bandits standing by the Knights lean back against the trees lining the main path, looking almost bored but...mesmerized at the same time. As if they were watching an interesting looking bug dance around in a tank. Seeing them lean by the trees is making me think though...

Judging by the size of their maces, there's no way I could beat them in direct combat. I switch my knife from hand to hand, thinking...what would ma do?

And then it hits me.

I still haven't attracted any attention yet so I use this fact to my advantage, dashing from tree to tree until I reach the one the bandit farthest from Mr. Pointy-Hair is leaning against. He's yawning, looking completely distracted by the delusional maniac's rambling. Almost hesitantly, I lift my dagger, still hidden by the tree he's leaning against. Oh Lords...if this doesn't work...

No. It WILL work. It has to.

I pivot swiftly on my heel, switching my grip on the dagger and flipping it in my hands, catching it so that the blade faces my ...face. The heavy iron ball adorning the dagger's...butt (I still find that amusing, childishly enough)...catches the bandit right across the temple and makes an audible THUNK! as it strikes. As I finish the move, I practically slap his mouth, blocking off any sound he could have made. He crumples, losing his grip on his mace and falling to the ground. I try to catch him best I could. Luckily enough, Drakath still has the other bandit distracted by his monologuing...what's he going on about now? I strain my ears again...

"That box is the KEY to my throne and-"

Meaningless blarg. Ugh. I move on to where the other bandit is standing when it hits me.

He's standing in a place where I can't execute the stunning strike...or at least not without being seen. He's standing by a tree blocking the main road, his other sides blocked by extended branches from other trees. In that kind of position, there's just no WAY I could stun him without fully revealing myself. I grit my teeth. I could just stab him in the gut or something...my knife is sharp and well kept and could probably pierce through leather armor if I really tried...but...

I'm not a killer. At least not yet.

Lady Celestia, who's by a tree opposite the one the bandit was standing next to, gives me an almost imperceptible nod, subtly jerking her head towards the place where the bandit lay. Drakath, who's still caught up by his monologuing, though he DOES have his eyes trained on Celestia, doesn't notice the gesture and continues rambling on about 'great winds of destiny' or some other meaningless crap. I follow her gaze and see that she's staring at the bandit's fallen mace...

Am I supposed to use that?

I stare at it, baffled for a moment or two, thinking. There's no way I could wield that thing effectively, that thing was way too heavy for a person as weak as I. That thing looks as heavy as a sack of reagents!

Then it hits me.

I don't need to use it properly. I just need to lift it for one shot.

I dart through the trees at the bandit's back, keeping to the side path until I reach where the weapon lay. Slowly, I crept up to the weapon, revealing myself for a full minute, before I dart back through the trees. Gosh...this thing is REALLY heavy. I grit my teeth, sheathing my dagger at my belt before dragging the thing with both hands, trying to stay as quietly as I can. My paranoia's belting out at full force and for once, I'm using it to my advantage. My senses open to every noise (even Drakath's rambling, sadly enough) and motion, I manage to get to where the bandit is standing without getting noticed. His peripheral vision must be terrible with that mask on...and Drakath has his sights trained entirely on the Lady and he's standing with his back to me which makes this a bit easier.

Hesitantly, I lift the mace up. I only get one shot with this...and even though there's a bigger chance of me pulling off a stunner with this, there's a HUGE possibility of me failing this as well...and even though there's a smaller chance of me getting caught with this (at least if I manage to swing the way I want to on my first try...which is diagonally), there's still a fifty/fifty chance of me getting caught with this. But...Lady Celestia catches my eye again, her dark eyes boring holes in my own hazel-gold ones and I know that I have no choice.

Using all of my strength, I heft the mace high over my head. Then I let it fall in a diagonal overhead, aiming for the man's head and praying, just PRAYING for Fate to give me a hand.

The weapon strikes true, swiping across the side of his head and catching the bandit by surprise. The heavy, spiked metal leaves a gigantic bump on the man's head, blood seeping from the blow, and the man crumples, falling onto a pile of bushes, the bushes muffling his fall.

Lords of the Realms...did Fate actually help out for once?

As soon as I thought this, Fate giggles: 'NOPE!'

One of the drawbacks of using a two handed mace is the inability to recover quickly after striking. I was slow and the weapon was too heavy for me to use properly, which led to the guy having a few extra seconds of consciousness. Short but long enough for him to say one word, in a voice loud enough to ring through the clearing: 'Drakath-!'

At the sound of his name, Drakath turns around, his sword drawn and ready for battle. He sees the two fallen bandits and me with the mace and visibly flushes with anger, a reddish tinge spreading over his tanned cheeks. Quicker than I could avoid, he lunges for my neck, pinning me to a nearby tree. He must be stronger than he looks, considering the strength of his charge, I think idly to myself before he lifts me high in the air by the throat. He takes one look at me and swears loudly under his breath .

"Filthy peasant." he sneers, green eyes mocking. "Did you really think you had a chance?"

I choke, dropping the mace, fear suddenly overtaking my senses as they had when I fought the gorillaphant. I was gonna die...I was gonna die...I'm gonna die...

No.

Lady Celestia catches my eye again. She had stood up while Drakath had me pinned, taking use of his distraction to get to her feet. Twilly, standing by her foot, held out his staff and had begun healing the injured knights. Her dark eyes, though filled with an amount of pain, held one clear message within them: 'You can do this'.

I won't die. Not yet, at least. I have to stay alive.

"Hate to break it to you," I choke, trying to wrestle his hands away from my throat. "But the Eirams are an ancient family dating back to when Alteon first ruled."

His grip around my throat tightens and I can't breathe. No...no...

I am NOT gonna let a delusional, spiky haired, Dark Wolf reject of a maniacal wannabe prince kill me.

I have standards!

As my vision began to fade, I stomped on one very particular part of his body with all the strength I could muster, acting on nothing but sheer desperation.

Which is to say that I...er...scrambled his eggs...so to speak.

He lets go of my throat, his voice dying down to a shrill squeak, and practically curls up in a fetal position. I, not wanting to lose any advantage I was given, draw my dagger and perform the stunning strike, slamming the pommel across his head. Unfortunately, he still had the presence of mind to turn his head to one side, allowing my blow to glance off his forehead protector instead of his temple like I aimed. Still, I put in all of my power in that shot and I'd guess that he at least felt the impact. The impact of the shot knocked him off of his feet at least, leaving him temporarily winded.

I leap backwards, dagger ready for a second strike when I hear something. Something very welcome.

Captain Rolith and some of the other Pactagonal Knights, probably hearing spiky hair's ranting earlier, had arrived at the main road, weapons drawn. Captain Rolith, taking one look at the knocked out knights and the unconscious bandits then looking at me, still holding my slightly bloody dagger, whistles.

"Nice one Greta," he comments. "I thought you said that heroism wasn't your thing though?"

I manage a weak grin, stumbling over to where the Knights were standing. "Nope...had no choice." The battle earlier was more draining than I thought. As soon as the adrenaline rush faded from my system, I felt dead tired. Still, I keep on standing, just in case the royal wannabe tries to make a move...not that the knights couldn't handle it. After all, they WERE very efficient knights."Lady Celestia...she's here..." I gasp out, feeling my throat before instinctively taking a Health Potion from my satchel and taking a long draught.

Captain Rolith nods, a pair of knights separating from the group and coming to the Lady's aid, handing her potions and such, before standing on either side of her with their swords at the ready. Some of the other knights drag their unconscious brethren out of the battlefield (and revealing the two's faces in the process. They were Sir Reptishus and Sir Cumvent.) All of the other knights, Captain Rolith included, surround Drakath.

Drakath, temporarily winded from the impact...and mildly traumatized by my scrambling his eggs...had no idea of what was happening until it was far too late. As soon as he caught sight of the knights with their weapons drawn and with one of the greater Knight Captains, namely Rolith, he cursed vehemently under his breath.

"Impossible!" he muttered, looking vengeful. "You got lucky this time, peasant."

I really did, didn't I?

Captain Rolith looks sternly at him. "And YOU are under arrest for assaulting the Priestess, her moglin friend and Greta here."

"...Greta huh...Greta Eiram..." Drakath mutters under his breath. "I'll be sure to remember that! Count on it!"

Then, with a flash of dirty smoke, he disappeared.

One of the knights curse. "Teleportation spell." he mutters under his breath. "Should've seen that one coming."

With most of the Health Potion already working in my system, healing the bruises around my neck and filling me with a sense of nostalgia, I grin at him. "An unpleasant surprise eh, Sir Prize? Didn't you say that no surprise could ever be unpleasant when Sir Prize is around?" I grin, looking a bit cheeky...honestly, his voice, serious as the situation was, still gave me the urge to giggle.

He pushes his visor up, confirming my suspicions. He gives me a mock glare. "Who asked you, Princess Potion Maker?" he retorts, though the gleam in his eyes was as light as I remembered it to be. "What are you doing here, anyways?" he asks. I rub a hand through my hair.

"I was here to collect reagents for my mam." I explain. "Then I got dragged into this mess." I gesture at my back, pointing to the two knocked out bandits.

Some of the other knights laugh. "You could go into heroism if you managed to get out of that mess unscathed." the Captain comments. I frown and rub my still healing bruises until he concedes. "...mostly unscathed, at least. Are you planning on registering, by the way?"

Again, I shake my head. Lady Celestia walks over to where we're standing, one of the knights helping her walk along, and flashes me a brilliant smile. "You really should consider it though. You were very brave back there...you saved my life." she comments and I look down in embarrassment, much to the amusement of the knights.

"I'm glad to be of service, Lady." I mumble, still looking embarrassed. The knights, even while making sure that the bandits I knocked out were truly incapacitated, manage to give me a collective thumbs up.

Ah. How I missed these guys...it only seems like yesterday when we first moved out. Even considering the craziness of the day, and my new near death experience, I have to admit, this kind of ending makes up for the whole day...and even half of my sleepless, training filled night. I even managed to make sure that the potion was still safe! It's like Fate decided to finally give me a lucky break...

Then, as usual, Fate laughs in my face.

I notice something about the tree where Lady Celestia had taken shelter by. The box...where was it?

"Lady C." I begin, looking to see if she had taken the box while I was distracted. No box in sight... "Where's your box? Do you have it?"

Her eyes suddenly open wide, one hand going up to cover her mouth. "Whoops."

I groan.

By the time this whole thing is over, the general consensus on what happened to the box to was that it was taken by a sneevil while we were all distracted, one very likely possibility since the box was well...a box and since sneevils were pretty much everywhere. Lady Celestia, afterwards, said that she would leave the adventurers a note about her missing box and told me to go to Falconreach if I wanted to help since Twilly was going home there. Then she teleported home. Why didn't she just do that in the first place? Because, apparently, teleportation caused severe nausea and made her feel sick for days afterwards but she was going to make the exception only because she had set a rare tea to boil three days ago and it should be ready about now.

As for me, I spent the rest of the day with the knights (...mama told me to have fun so I am...), helping Maya sort out her book collection, reading a few tomes while I was at it, enjoying talks with my childhood friends, and eating more of Sir Loin's cakes...though this time, I had to pay for them with my own money.

Twilight came and I went home, lugging around a finished potion and the memory of a mostly happy day.

A bit late...sorry. I had my finals this month and had to study...and complete projects and such. On the bright side, it's summer vacation over here now so I have more time to write now. Also, this chapter was written in between huge study sessions and project makings so if it's a bit...sucky, tell me. I'm planning on revising this if necessary...

Also, yes. This chapter was mostly a filler though a plot important event took place at the end. A family reunion, a huge training session, a kid making a potion and a fight with Prince Pointy Hair...yep, most of that was just filler. Though, to be fair, the reunion was supposed to show a bit of Greta's personality and her relationship with her parents which WILL be more important in the future, the training session marked a bit of improvement in her knife wielding (and referenced the change to 9.0 standards from the actual game...hehe...). the potion making was...well, I wanted to show how potion making works in here (referencing both minigames) and the last...well, that was plot important...though I admit that the ending feels...weak...

I hope that making Greta a bit more skillful in her (sort of) fight with Drakath and his goonies doesn't make her a Mary Sue...she trained the whole night away so I think that her getting a bit more skillful is justified...also, she's a combat pragmatist. Scrambled eggs anyone? Funny thing is, I actually WANTED to have her curbstomping them at first...I mean...who here can seriously tell me that they had a hard time in this fight without lying? ...then I realized, though the fight may have taken me exactly two and a half seconds to finish, Greta's personality would've NEVER let her charge in a fight against three people with giant maces. Or not yet, at least. I think her actions were a fair substitute for a curbstomping, especially considering what happened to Drakath at the end...hehehe...thinking about it, Drakath is going to get beaten up in unusual and slightly cruel ways quite a lot in the future...

I also changed things a bit. Since she told Maya to pass on the message, Captain Rolith got the message early and ordered two knights to accompany the Lady on her journey but they were ambushed on the way by Drakath and his goonies...kinda ironic since ambushes are Sir Reptishus' specialty and Sir Cumvent is there to...circumvent those kinds of sneak attacks, lol...shoot me, I made stupid pun...

R&R yous!