Hey guys I finally got around to finishing this chapter. I know I apologised about taking so damn long with these things so I'm gonna stop talking about it; life happens and I won't get around to finishing these chapters as early as I want to, so I hope you're alright with that because balancing this, school and my personal life is frustrating to say the least, but doesn't make this any less enjoyable.
Basically, don't expect these chapters to come out regularly, I'll be writing a lot in each chapter and life will just get in the way.
But still, it took me just over a month to finish this which is inexcusable...
Anyway, thanks for waiting. Hope you enjoy!
(3rd Person)
Robin could not complain about his new home: A single bedroom, that had enough space for the single cheap, but clean and simple white bed; a wardrobe, table and chair, all wooden. Sumia tried to sell the quaint appeal of the functional room, but gave up after seeing Robin's inexpressive gaze while he examined the accommodations.
"I know, it kinda sucks. But hey, at least it's clean…" She chuckled to herself, the confidence in her voice thinning as her sentence went on. Robin noticed the awkwardness coming from the woman, and decided to break the ice by being friendly.
"Heh, it's not too bad…" She looked less shy at Robin's approval, "I can't really remember living in anything more luxurious than sticks, rocks and leaves in the outdoors, and that was only a few days ago! Thanks for showing me to my room, Sumia. It was nice of you to do so, even though we just met."
She looked at me in slight wonder, "That's okay…What did you mean by you not remembering?"
"Oh. I have amnesia. Basically, can't remember anything about myself before I met Chrom. Even though I had no recollection of my past and nothing to validate my identity, he was kind to me. Especially kind." Robin reminisced, the silver haired woman was surprised as apparent to Robin by her widened eyes and slightly gaping mouth.
"Amnesia!? That's horrible! So you don't remember who you are, your family; homeland, nothing?"
The amnesiac shrugged his shoulders, shaking off the tragedy that is his situation, "Nothing. But it's not so bad—hell, it could've been worse if I had not met the Shepherds! I might be as tough and smart as Lissa would testify, but without them I wouldn't be here." The tactician noticed how she stood there with a gentle smile, "…Uh, is something the matter?"
Sumia shook her head mildly, "No. I can just see why Chrom likes you. You are nice, yet strong and dependable, just like him. I think he sees a lot of himself in you."
Her evaluation of the tactician was a surprise he did not expect from the often-clumsy Shepherd, he was at a loss for words, the comment struck something inside him.
…You're one of us, Robin, and no "destiny" can change that…
In what seemed like an instant, the emotions that were contained from that dream returned like a flood. The feeling of horror for Chrom's death awoke in him and the headache he felt before returned.
"Y-you okay Robin!?" Sumia secured him by the shoulders as the tactician collapsed to his knees, the pain subsided after a minute. Robin saw the genuine worry on his comrade's face.
"Yes…I think I remembered something, it—"
No, I shouldn't say…
"It was something trivial, don't worry about it."
"O-okay, but I think you should visit Lissa or Maribelle, they can help you."
"No no it's fine, it must have been a headache, my bout earlier with Sully didn't do any good for my health. Let me rest here for a bit and I'll be good as new!"
"Well…If you think so, I'll get out of your hair and let you rest."
Sumia suspected there was more to what Robin was telling her, but she decided to leave him be. Giving a short nod, she closed the wooden door gently behind her; the amnesiac set his bronze weapon and tome on his desk, later tossing himself into his new bed.
Robin swore he heard one of the panels of the bed frame creak (or crack), but that did not bother him too much because the unbelievable comfort of the cotton sheets and pillow.
Oh wow. This….this is great.
The comfort of the bed did only so much to dull the pain Robin felt, he could not help but shudder at the resurfaced memory.
I'll just read something to forget about it…
Robin woke to the penetrating evening light from the window of his new home, which transformed the stone walls to a lovely shade of orange. He felt for the hard leather cover of his tactics manual sleepily, which sat with its pages spread over his chest. The tactician was bothered that he slept with the book open because a couple of the pages were creased during his rest as a result.
While he sat on the side of his bed trying to straighten his crumpled pages—frustrated with himself—a knock came from the door.
"Hello? Who is it?"
"…" Another set of knocks came from the door.
"Uh…okay, give me a moment."
Wondering who it could be, he quickly straightened his bed and combed out his bed hair with his fingers. Placing his book on the table and traded it for his sword.
Doesn't hurt to be too careful.
Slowly he opened the door, keeping his weapon hidden from view as he peeked through the crack, at first the hallway appeared empty of life. Gradually he opened his door further, however before he gave himself enough room to look around the corner he was startled by a leaping, dark cloaked figure; a figure that was enveloped completely by the mountain of fabric. The scare tripped him backwards onto his arse. It was then he could see underneath the hood.
Underneath was the familiar snicker of a certain young princess, "Gods Lissa, you really got me! I nearly ran you through with my sword if you weren't such a good scarer."
"Heehee! Once again I got you good! Look here, it's good as new!" The blonde cleric lifted the hood to reveal her face and shook her right arm to show off her handiwork. He saw what once was a jagged rip, is now a faint, seamless and neat line.
"How did you—This is amazing! You can't even tell it's been ripped. Thank you so much for fixing it."
Lissa jumped out of his coat, catching it in mid-air in front of Robin. She held it open for Robin to fit into, "Try it on!"
He slipped his arms into the baggy sleeves of his familiar coat, immediately he no longer felt naked the touch and weight of the fabric on his skin eased some subconscious worry he hid from himself; It just felt right for Robin. He could not help himself but smile.
"Lissa. I know it might be just a coat, but thank you. I cannot really explain it, but it's one of the few unique possessions that might link to who I was, or where I came from."
"Aww, thanks. I know it means a lot to you, it took me a while to get it right," She held her now visible fingers towards him, they were very much bandaged. Each finger is slightly bruised by the many pricks and mistakes Lissa had made perfecting the stitch, "It was a lot of trial and error, but it worked out in the end!"
The tactician could not believe it, she was more than happy to put in the effort, sacrificing her fingers in order to fix a measly rip in his coat. He now felt a bit guilty for making her go to such lengths, "Oh Lissa, you did not have to go that far. I'm sorry you injured your fingers, I didn't think earlier to just get a tailor to fix it—"
"Robin don't worry about it! You helped me with my sewing skills, and plus you've done more than enough to deserve this. It's my way of saying thank you."
"Well, I guess it's okay then—" Robin's stomach growled loud enough for the two to hear, he look away from the cleric in embarrassment, "Heh, sorry about that. I haven't eaten much since we arrived."
"Dinner is being served soon in the Mess Hall, it's also why I came to your room now. Let's go!"
"Okay, let me just return my sw—Hey!" Before he could leave his weapon behind the blonde already began tugging at him through the door, "Don't pull so hard, you're going to rip the coat!"
"Oh yeah, sorry!" She flashed her trademark smile of innocence, Robin could not get mad at her when she did that.
"Don't worry about it, but at least let me close the door before we leave!"
Robin's Journal Entry #2
Frederick has informed of the tense conditions between Plegia and Ylisse. The bandits we fought at Southtown were confirmed to be from Plegia, thanks to Garrick (the bastard). After a lengthy interrogation by none other than the stoic Frederick, the bandit leader loosened his tongue and reveal this information to us, the great knights assumption that they were sent to cause havoc in the halidom was true.
I have only done basic research on Plegia, but I have a nagging feeling that there is more to their motives than sending out bandits for the sake of wreaking havoc. Let's hope I'm wrong…
On a lighter note, it's remarkable that all the Shepherds are willing to follow Chrom all the way to Regna Ferox. I'm not surprised with much though: Chrom's natural charisma, his kind and trusting nature are what kept this small militia together.
Apart from the royal siblings and their great knight I feel the need to address the other members of the Shepherds (so far), there is Sumia, Sully, Virion, Vaike; there is also another cavalier by the name of Stahl, who looked like he just came out of bed by the look of his hair. Similar to Sully's red themed armour, his was green to match his hair.
Maribelle, who I met yesterday did not come with us, this may be because she stormed off just before the blue haired prince made his announcement. I hoped to have a chat with her, but it will have to wait for another day, also the last thing I want to deal with right now is her attitude.
I also got to meet a fellow magic user, a red headed mage called Miriel who caught up with us after Stahl's arrival. I was amazed by her use of wind magic to increase her speed, which is how she was able to reach us so soon. She seems like the textbook academic by her diction and aptitude for magic, I could learn some things from her.
Chrom told me there might be another soldier still part of our group; a knight by the name of Kellam, though he was not too sure if he was around anymore. I have yet to see a knight so far and when I ask the others about him, they are just as mystified as I by the (lacking) presence of the man. How could I miss a hulking mass of metal? Well we have enough soldiers so it will be fine, it just means I have to make do without a main defender.
On a completely unrelated matter, I sometimes hear the clanking of metal and the whisper of a man's voice, but when I look for the source I find nothing. I have to draw it to another mystery, just like this Kellam.
The march allowed me to get acquainted with everyone, I have only had brief chats with each of the present members, but already I can see how each of them work:
Vaike has some sort of contrived rivalry with the blue haired prince, always wanting to outdo him whether it is in combat or who has better muscles. His head may be a bit too inflated with his own ego but his strength and endurance are something about him that is fact.
Despite his remarkable skill, Virion is an insufferable flirt for reasons unknown to anyone but himself. Part of his attitude seems to stem from his sense of nobility; he holds himself as an elegant man of refined tastes which puts off many people as being insincere or snobbish. However behind those attempts of courting is a noble man…I hope my instincts are right about him.
Sumia. What is there to write about her? A pegasus knight without her own Pegasus, inexperienced in actual combat and a klutz to boot; what am I to do with her? Chrom suggested she watch from the sidelines and learn but I don't completely agree with that. I don't know how someone of her class goes about attaining their mount, but the sooner she does the earlier I can assess her combat capabilities.
Even though it looks like I'm being harsh with her, what few moments I have talked with her she has shown kindness and a willingness to help others, a virtue that is refreshing to see. I think she will become a great asset to the Shepherds one day.
The olive green, messy haired Stahl seems like an easygoing person, probably the most normal person I've met, well aside from his insatiable hunger—had to give him my remaining bear jerky since he missed breakfast. From my tactical observation of him (a temporary term I dubbed myself for my ability to "see" things on the battlefield) the green cavalier appears to be average in every way. A jack of all trades, master of none.
Sully would punch me in the face for this, but I think the green cavalier may beat her in terms of strength and defence, even so she has more potential to be a quicker and skilled cavalier.
Anyway, I the rest of the march so far has been peaceful, we are coming up on the Northroad as I write this. I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't encounter any resistance—
(3rd Person)
The tactician used the short break he had to write in his journal. He was thankful for the reprieve from the march. They were already at the Northroad, the bridge crossing the flowing river in sight amongst the lush greenery of the earth.
Frederick rushed towards his liege with grave news, "Milord, Risen have been sighted near the Northroad, they are positioned inside the forts and forest for us. It was fortunate we spotted them first."
"Risen here already!? Gods, this isn't good. Thank you Frederick, it's good that you found them before we walked into their trap." The prince swiftly made his way to Robin, who sat on a tree stump with his journal on his lap, consumed in his writing.
Robin dipped his quill into the small ink bottle beside him, wanting to finish the last sentence of his entry as soon as possible. His sentence was interrupted by a startling yell from Chrom.
"Robin! Frederick has told me that Risen have been sighted further down the path, hidden in the forest and forts. What's your plan?"
The tactician glared at his princely friend, whom caused him to smear the ink from his quill on his pristine entry—now ruined. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he looked at Chrom once again with advice to give.
"Thanks for the scare, friend. Anyway, what is this issue about the…Risen?"
"Yes, it is a term that we gave this new threat during yesterday's council." The great knight added.
"Ah I see…Well give me a moment. And don't touch my journal." The white haired Shepherd set his journal on the stump to dry, walked into full view of the field and analysed the layout.
Hmm, yes I see…I can use the trees there as cover for Virion while…then Sully and Stahl can act as backup for Chrom and Frederick while they hold the bridge…
Chrom and Frederick observed the tactician's mind at work, whom mumbled inaudibly and stroked his chin with his right hand in deep thought while the other hand rested beneath his right elbow.
"I got it! Frederick, Chrom, you are to be on the front lines since you two have the best defensive capabilities. Chrom, Sully will be paired with you. Lissa will be on standby to heal, out of range of the archers. I'll also have Virion just behind you Frederick, so he can aid in picking off targets on the front lines."
"But Robin, there are more positioned before the bridge, what about them?" The prince inquired, by the time he asked every Shepherd was listening in on the tactician's smart strategy. Seeing the crowd Robin had to shout.
"I was getting to that. Vaike, Stahl, Miriel and I will be the team to deal with them, Lissa, you will be paired with me until this side is clear. Chrom and Frederick, you will be enough to take on the three Risen on the right while my team will dispatch the four on the left. Once that is done we will proceed to the bridge and do as planned. After we break through their defence on the bridge, we will hold it and let them come to us, they've shown some intelligence in hiding but I believe they will engage us on sight. Any more questions?"
Only a few Shepherds raised their hands with questions relating to their positions, other than that they all agreed on the strategy and readied themselves with careful haste, Vaike in the meantime was frantically searching for his axe. the red headed mage found it for him, hacked into the side of a tree in plain sight.
I hope my strategy is good enough…
"Beware!" Miriel altered the trajectory of the Risen's hand axe from its mark towards Robin's head, an attack he was already prepared to avoid, but thanked the mage with glasses regardless. The throw left the leader of the Risen open which the tactician used to his advantage. Deciding to trust in Miriel's explanation, he borrows the mage's wind tome to increase his acceleration as he sprinted at the enemy.
Amazing! It feels like I'm barely touching the ground!
The barbarian humanoid showed no sense of surprise at the Robin's speed, unlike the rest of the Shepherds that watched in amazement.
Robin felt a surge of inner energy swell in his hand as he felt himself zoom like an arrow towards his target; with his sword pointed towards the last Risen. In one decisive strike he impaled the full length of his blade though its chest.
The force of his charge toppled the foe, impacting the earth with a hollow thump and dissipating into smoke. Getting up from his knees Robin dusted off his trousers and pulled out his bronze sword from the earth where it penetrated. The heat emanating from his right hand ebbed away.
What the—was it the mark?
"Impressive display. I learnt an ample amount from your application of wind magic on the feet. It is just as I instructed, however you improved its effectiveness. I am curious to know how you achieved such a result."
He stared at Miriel, needing a moment to comprehend her message, "I-I don't know, I thought I was doing it just like you told me. I did feel something…a rush of power within me."
"May be adrenaline, an effect often seen in battle. I hypothesise it was a fluke, such a shame."
Miriel walked away, disappointed at the lost discovery while the white haired amnesiac peeled off the flap of his gauntlet, he saw his purple mark physically undisturbed, however the power he felt was very much real.
Robin breathed deeply as the last of the Feroxi guards is incapacitated, relieved that all eight—nine of his allies survived (Robin had to strain his sight to find Kellam again after being apparently 'invisible' the whole journey). The amnesiac did not fight, it was to cultivate his less experienced comrades with battle experience, one in particular is Sumia and her new Pegasus whom she found after the battle at the Northroad. She looked like a natural on her new winged friend.
It was fortunate she tamed it, if not the prince would have been riddled with lances.
The battle did not conclude without any ramifications however, most of the Shepherds except Robin, Chrom and (of course) Frederick still had the energy to fight on. The tactician had to admit despite the Feroxi's lack in proper strategy, they are a hardy sort.
"Lower your weapon now! This fight is over." The tactician pleaded to the captain of the guard, whom stood valiantly against the odds weighed against her.
"No…this fight is not over, that is not the Feroxi way." The knight gritted her teeth, pointed her steel lance at the cloaked stranger and the imposter prince, "If you're claims are true, then prove it through the clashing of steel! Just you and me."
It would be so simple to let her be surrounded and overwhelmed…
"Alright then. Everyone, stand down. This is my fight."
"Seriously, Robin? We can end it much quicker if we—" Whispered the prince, an obvious fact which made the tactician roll his eyes.
"I know I don't have to, but I want to. It is the 'Feroxi way' after all." Knowing it was either: A one-on-one, or her against everyone else, risking injury of his allies. The former is more logical in his mind.
The tactician drew his bronze sword and held his thunder tome in his off-hand, "Sorry to disappoint, but I've only bronze and lightning to clash against your steel. And before we see who is the better fighter, I'd like to know who you are."
"I am Raimi, proud soldier of the Feroxi army and captain of the guard. You?"
"Robin, tactician of the Shepherds. Now, show me what Feroxi soldiers have to offer!"
Flashing a grin very similar to Sully's, Raimi barrelled herself with forceful speed and her lance leading towards the tactician's chest. On beat, he rolled to the knight's right flank and sheathed his sword. Recovered, he allowed lightning to crackle freely in his right hand and proceeded to contain the power into a condensed ball of destruction.
Letting his magic fly and smack into Raimi's right leg, the mass of metal plates conducted which caused the female knight to thrash inside her amour unpleasantly.
"RRRGH! You think magic will stop me!? Think again!"
Since both combatants were only a few meters away, the knight started at her opponent once again, ignoring and pushing through the slight muscles spasms—the work of Robin's magic. Unlike her slow movement, her attacks were viciously quick, the tactician thought.
He backstopped out of the rain of thrusts. Robin felt the wind from each lethal thrust and he could not concentrate enough to cast another spell and dodge at the same time, one hit could end him and that pressure is distressing.
The tactician was kept on his toes as the knight gave him no pause, connecting one fierce attack with another that is no less threatening than the last.
(Robin's POV)
My boots felt the smooth slick of the frosted floor, so did my numb hands feel the nip of the harsh wind; my face pricked in fear of the biting wind from Raimi's lance. She was giving me no opportunities to retaliate.
I was losing my patience, switching to my sword all I could do for the moment is exhaust her before she does the same to me. But each nick, every step closer she took closer; the mark on my hand grew hot that it was as if I'd been branded by hot iron—a white hot iron.
You can best this ignorant Feroxi! She does not know your true potential…You know you can do it—I know you can do it. Just allow the feeling consume you…
Goosebumps arose around the proximity of my searing hand. Raimi advanced with another lunge. A spontaneous dark mist enveloped my arm (making me drop my sword); in a split second my fist connected with her chest, pulverising though her sturdy armour as if it was made of cloth.
The knight landed a semi-fatal wound, a slash across my cheek which I had yet to notice until the pearl white floor was decorated in it. Raimi's blood painted it too, because she is coughing up drops of blood. She collapsed to her knees, gasping for air that I forced out with my punch.
I stood, towering over the fallen knight with dark thoughts fogging my judgement. The dark apparition around my bleeding (and I think fractured) fist disappeared. The powerful, dominating feeling quickly turned to shame. Feebly, I sat next to my opponent and rested her head on my knees.
"Oh gods, I'm so sorry! I—"
Raimi spat onto the floor, "Don't apologise. You will need to do more than a cheap punch in the gut to kill us. You are good—powerful, I thought a tactician was supposed to avoid direct confrontation." She pressed her head against my lap, clearly tired from battle.
"It seems your claims were true, I hope your prince forgives me for my…insolence. " Exhausted the woman closed her eyes and breathed deeply, as if in meditation.
"I'm sorry…" I whispered.
"Robin…You're shaking." It was Lissa who spoke first. Her dainty steps from behind came closer. I bowed my head away.
"Yeah. I know." But it was not the cold, or the pain from my bleeding hand and cheek that caused me to shake. "We need to treat Raimi before we move on, I know I broke a bone or something…"
Without a word, the princess wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
(3rd Person)
Both Feroxi and Ylissean travelled into the fort to recover like ants in a line that proceeded slowly inside, with Robin (shouldered onto Chrom) and Raimi (hobblying slowly behind by herself—her choice) leaving last.
The only figure left at the scene was a masked figure, observing from a nook of the massive fortress. They pulled their cape over their chin to fight the cold. Satisfied, the person sternly walked away, hoping to get back to the khan first.
(?)
Bored. Bored. Bored.
I cast another Thoron at one of the many pillars in the hall, I liked this one because I hasn't broke yet. The last three I shot at were weak and all broke in a single day.
Electricity danced along my fingers in yellow arches, a trick I've learnt and become tired of.
Suddenly, my mark glowed. As if snapped out of a fugue of boredom I felt delight for the first time in a long while. I could not help but smile.
Well, what do we have here. It seems our lost little Robin has awoken…
Question: Do you think I should stop using the "(3rd Person), (Robin's POV)" format? I feel like they clarify easily which perspective the writing is currently in but I also feel like I'm treating you guys like idiots by exclaiming what mode it's in.
Give me your thoughts in the comments (as well as any questions you may have with how I'm directing this story or whatever). Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter :)