Osvald V. Vanstein:

Osvald.

Osvaaaaaald~

Have you found the answer…?

Osvald's faded memories, which he could not even escape in his dreams, shattered as he was awoken with the sound of a fight a few cells down. Someone shouted something, someone was slammed into the bars, soon guards were called and the 'dispute' was over. A relatively common morning routine in the prison on Frigit Isle, and nothing worth noting. Mundane even.

Accepting that he would soon be awoken by the guards anyway, as he noticed a small patch of morning sunlight through his frozen eyelashes, Osvald slowly rose to a sitting position on his sleeping mat: nothing but an all too thin strip of cloth separating his battered body from the frozen stone floor. Osvald could not help but sigh slightly, creating a small sound almost like a whistle through his locally famous muzzle. As his mouth was always kept slightly ajar due to the cursed thing, Osvald began slowly trying to force what little saliva he could around his mouth so that it didn't dry out, as he had done every morning for five years. Soon a bang was heard coming down the hall, as Warden Davids, an imposing, muscular war veteran who apparently hadn't seen enough suffering in his day, started slamming his club into the bars of each cell. Osvald swallowed painfully as Davids finally reached his cell and pounded on it, leaving the scholar with a painful ringing in his ears and a headache.

"Well well, good morning professor!" Davids said, pure delight evident in his voice as he saw Osvald waking in his cell. "...What's the matter, don't want to say good mornin' back?" He gloated, slamming the bars again. Osvald calmly stared at the man through his thin glasses, refusing to be provoked. Unfortunately, even that was too much.

"...What's that look on your face?" Davids said evilly as his expression darkened and he reached for his keys. Osvald closed his eyes in frustration with himself. He knew better than to show any signs of disobedience. When he opened them again, Davids was above him, knuckles white around the grip of his club as he slammed it thickly into Osvald's side, sending the man toppling over and wincing in pain. "...Can't have any fire coming from you, professor." Davids said quietly while squatting down to Osvald's level. Davids poked at his face with the club's end, squishing it into the ground and making Osvald worried his glasses may break. "That goes for any fancy magics, as well as any in your eyes." Davids said mockingly. He stood and walked out, leaving the cell unlocked as it was time to leave for the day anyway. Guards waited for Osvald to stand, as he caught his breath on the frozen floor. As awful and horrible to his body this floor had been over these long years, Osvald had found an unintended use for it: ice for his daily wounds. Calmly letting the cool feeling spread over his flaming ribs, Osvald regained his composure and stood. Despite everything, Osvald was not angry. Osvald was not frustrated. Osvald was not even mildly upset. Instead he calmly tucked away what anger he was supposed to be feeling to a corner of his brain and let it dissolve.

For later.

After all, there were three reasons for Osvald not to be angry. The first, it would only cause him more problems when he went to his daily task of mining phosphal. It was evident enough the guards had short fuses. Set them off at the wrong time, and it was death. Secondly, and most importantly, it wasn't the guards fault. The guards were simply a byproduct of the environment. No, the problem was the environment itself and more specifically the one who put him here. Why waste that valuable anger in futile defiance, when he could use it to burn the man who killed his wife and daughter to naught but ash. It was only logical. Finally, the last reason Osvald didn't mind his difficult morning was a simple one. After today, it wouldn't matter. This was the last day he ever intended to wake up on Frigit Isle.

"One more thing." Emerald, Osvald's accomplice, said, placing a shoulder on the scholar's hulking frame and stopping him in his tracks. The two had just found the entrance to the underground tunnel that would be their escape, behind one of the guard houses. "It took some doing, but I nicked it. One key to one very annoying muzzle." Emerald proudly flashed a crooked grin as he dangled a key on a string from his hand. Osvald breathed in sharply and swallowed, eyes affixed to the key, nearly forgetting what he was doing at the prospect of being able to speak again. Slowly Osvald reached for the key, and Emerald encouragingly shoved it into his hands. "Oh please." He said dismissively. "Don't dwell on it, just use it. We gotta get moving anyway. Besides, I wanna hear those pipes professor! I gotta say, it's one of the things I've just been dying to know for years." Emerald joked but Osvald was barely listening, holding the key in reverence. …He did it. Osvald thought with begrudging respect. …I suppose I made an excellent choice of accomplice. Osvald slowly brought the key to the back of his head and felt around for the lock. After hearing that beautiful click, the pressure that had been pulling his face back for what had felt like an eternity went slack. Osvald took a heavy breath… and pulled the horrid thing from his face. Cold wind immediately stung skin that hadn't been exposed in half a decade and Osvald pinched his eyebrows in light pain as he got used to the sensation.

"...Well? C'mon, don't leave me hangin' here." Emerald said expectantly. Osvald was brought out of the moment and looked at his accomplice, who hadn't lost his toothy grin. Osvald looked away for a moment as another blast of cold air stung his exposed flesh. Finally, all he could manage to say was:

"...S'cold." Osvald muttered, barely above a whisper. His voice was ragged and dried out from years without use, so much so that the act of speaking was painful. Despite this, Osvald couldn't help but feel an elation at the simple words. After the torture he had endured here, the simple ability to complain about it was water in the desert.

Emerald was significantly less impressed. "Aw, what?! That's it?!" he cursed and kicked a snow pile, discontent clear as day upon his face. Osvald watched indifferently as he started toward the secret entrance they had unearthed. Upon reaching it, one of the three voices that haunted him daily spoke out.

"You know, if you don't say it when you're supposed to, Elena is never going to learn." Rita scolded him, giggling. Osvald slowly looked between her and the street vendor he had just bought a caramel apple from. Elena had stubbornly refused to budge from the spot until she could have one, which typically the couple would scold. Yet, Elena had done all her chores today without complaining, Osvald had been told, and so it was true that some form of reward was in order. Granted, Osvald wished it wasn't something so unhealthy for a developing body, but he melted in front of Elena's pouting face. One apple wouldn't hurt.

Osvald turned to the vendor, who was trying not to laugh at Osvald's evident embarrassment.

"...Uhm. Thanks." Osvald muttered before grabbing the ladder.
Emerald cackled loudly, earning a glare from the scholar as he might alert someone. "He speaks!" Emerald cried a bit quieter, pumping his fist. Osvald scoffed lightly and looked away before descending the ladder.

"So, the scholar speaks! Hello Osvald!" Davids chuckled angrily, facing the escaping prisoners with a sneer and a deathgrip on his massive club. Osvald eyed the man and his guards about him carefully, considering options. He found his mind was working slower than it had in his prime, years of being unable to even consider the use of his magic dulling his prowess. Additionally, despite his better efforts, Osvald was starting to lose a bit of his composure. Suddenly, the years and years of abuse were rushing back to him, every painful bone crunching hit from that blasted club beating him down and down until he thought he may just break. There was a special place in hell for Davids, as there was for Harvey. Osvald firmly decided he would collect Davids' ticket for him, as his breathing slowed and he picked a few basic spells in his brain that wouldn't exhaust him. It'd be a good warmup.

"I'm sorry, confidant." Emerald said grimly, gripping his makeshift shank and eyeing the guards. "I was sloppy. If I'd noticed sooner this wouldn't have happened."

"...No, this is all within my contingency plans. If anything, the error is mine." Osvald said. Gripping his fists at his side he eyed the grinning warden one last time. "...and I will correct it."

Davids held out his club towards the two escapees and his smile faded. "...Kill em." The guards at his side charged forward. Osvald barely looked at them as he chanted.

"Pierce them, winds of frost!" He shouted, sweeping his arm in front of him and creating shards of ice like broken glass to sprout from the ground. The guard stumbled in alarm all too late as they were immediately impaled on the deadly spikes. One was killed instantly as the other weakly kicked in the air, slowly losing the energy to resist his coming demise. Osvald raised a hand and clenched it into a tight fist, keeping eye contact with Davids as the ice shattered to dust and cleared the path between the two.

"Incompetents." Davids said simply, rolling his neck and shoulders. "Well like they say right? What something done-" He sprinted forward, anticipated the ice Osvald tried to use on him and deftly hopped over it, sliding down the ramp it created. "-then do it yourself!" Davids finished as he swung heavily into Osvald's jaw. Osvald barely managed to bring his arm up in time but heard a sickening crunch as his wrist suddenly went limp. Sent sprawling, Osvald quickly landed on his feet as Emerald gave him some breathing room by sneaking up behind Davids and stabbing him in the side. Davids barely flinched as he reached back with his free hand, his muscular form grabbing Emerald by the collar and lifting him high.

"Whassa matter warden can't- unph- take a joke?!" Emerald said jovially as he grimaced and struggled to escape. The warden growled angrily as he slammed Emerald into the hard stone, bouncing the prisoner off of it with a dull crack and following up with a heavy swing. By now Osvald had stood again, and any sense of doubt or desire to save his energy faded. He slowly walked towards Davids, face contorted in a furious scowl.

"There it is again professor." Davids said coldly. "That fire. How many times do I have to tell you!?" Davids exclaimed as he slammed his club at the top of Osvald's head. Osvald calmly stepped back as the club buried into the stone, quickly stomping the weapon out of the warden's hand. Davids stumbled back from the force and growled angrily, running at Osvald with fists clenched. Osvald glared at him coldly and simply lifted his arm.

"Fire, burn!" He shouted angrily as a wave of flame erupted from his core, consuming Davids in an instant. The warden screamed in complete agony, and Osvald heard a sickening sizzle as Davids' flesh burned. Soon the screaming stopped, but the fire only got hotter. Emerald looked up and found he could no longer see Osvald's eyes behind his glasses, as the flames danced a sinister reflection. Beyond that, Osvald's face was emotionless.

R-Rita…. Osvald thought to himself as he saw the smoke in the distance. Sprinting past the graveyard, Osvald reached his house in record time only to find it was far, far too late. A sizzle tickled the back of his ears as he heard what he could only assume was the worst. His wife's pleasant and loving face flashed in his mind, his daughter's look of joy when he had given her a scholarly pen as a gift. Osvald's breath was caught in his throat as he slowly began to scream in abject horror.

"RITA!" He cried on his knees. "E-ELENA!" His head was soon on the dirt as he pounded at the stonepath to his house in agonizing despair. "NO! NO PLEASE!" His hand felt like it was breaking, as his other hand clenched at his chest in a desperate attempt to keep his heart from shattering apart forever. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Osvald sobbed as the fire burned at his face only to hear a light chuckle to his side…

As Davids was reduced to ashes, Osvald felt the heat on his face and the unpleasant memory play in his mind's eye like a sick play. When Osvald finally cut the flow of magic, the ground was turned to a sooty black and any evidence that the man known as Davids was ever even a part of this earth was gone. Emerald slowly rose as he looked at the spot with a conflicted expression.

"...You know, professor." He finally said. "...I understand why they gave you that muzzle now."

Osvald turned and fired a blast at the wall, creating a new path for the pair to tread. He rolled his shoulders as his anger faded. "...It was smart of them." Without looking back, he walked through the steaming opening he had created, trusting that his confidant would follow when he was ready.

"Emerald…" Osvald said quietly to himself, alone on his makeshift boat of ice as he observed the burning inspector's ship that Emerald had insisted on taking. For the second time that day, flames forced Osvald to recall the events of five years ago that had placed him on his horrid island to begin with. "Why did…" Osvald began to question. His critical mind was racing, trying desperately to find the logic behind Emerald's actions. Things had, frankly put, worked out better than Osvald could have hoped. With this final act, he would be presumed dead and able to roam the continent freely. The ability to ignore a stealthy approach would be a great asset in his hunt for Harvey, but these were all his own selfish desires. Emerald surely had had goals that prompted him to escape. Unlike Osvald, Emerald did not have a life sentence on Frigit. As his boat slowly drifted further to open sea, Osvald turned away and sat, exhausted from so much in one day after years of malnourishment and poor living environments. In the end, it didn't matter why any of this had happened. It was all to his benefit, and Emerald had made his choice. It was not as if Osvald had forced him. Slowly Osvald felt his eyes close as he rested his likely broken wrist against the ice. Despite everything, it was the best Osvald had slept in years.

When he awoke, it was due to heavy rains pelting at his face. Frantically Osvald stood as his boat was ricketed by waves. Casting some light ice spells to upkeep the hull of his boat, he quickly tried to come up with a solution that would see him through his storm. He concluded that there wasn't much he could do against a force of nature such as this as he nearly fell from his tiny boat. He crafted some oars of ice and began to row in an attempt to escape the storm sooner, but his hands were soon burning from the cold of gripping them. Osvald cursed as a splash of water suddenly confirmed a fear he had been trying to ignore. The water was getting much, much warmer. Soon it would be all but impossible to maintain the ice boat, which he noticed was already beginning to melt. As he stood to cast more magic, it proved too much for the boat's integrity and it immediately snapped. Osvald was submerged in the freezing water, too warm to keep ice but far, far too cold for the human body. Osvald quickly swam back above water and gasped for air.

"...Why!" He shouted towards the clouds. "Aelfric! Alephan!" Osvald cried angrily as his face contorted into a bitter expression. "After all I did to get here, you throw this final hurdle at me?!" Osvald slapped at the water as his rage boiled over. "Harveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!" He exclaimed with everything he had. No. No! He thought as he quickly began to swim toward the horizon. I will not let that bastard get away with everything he did to me. To Rita. To Elena! Osvald summoned a wind at his back, immediately chilling him to the bone but increasing his speed. He would bet it all on this gambit. If the gods still refused him there wasn't much he could do, but he would be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to make the last five years worth it in some way. His family deserved rest, they were innocent and Osvald had exposed them to someone like Harvey. He needed to set things right, and personally speaking, he needed to see Harvey in an early grave. Despite the cold as these thoughts came to him, his chest felt warm and he furiously swam. For what felt like days but was likely only hours, Osvald used every ounce of strength that he possibly could to reach some form of shelter. Eventually, he found he simply had no more strength to give. Thoroughly exhausted, without a shred of energy left, Osvald slowly began to sink in the waves. Fine. He thought. If you truly wish to be this cruel then so be it. At least… I will see them again… soon.

Osvald slowly opened his eyes at his desk in his private study, which he had carved out of a hill near his house. Gentle hands made small circles on his back, massaging his aching muscles from the awkward position in which he had slept. He slowly sat up and was greeted from behind with a hug.

"Mm. Good morning Rita. I'm sorry I didn't make it home last night." Osvald said sadly, eyeing the papers on his desk and remembering where he had left off. His wife giggled and placed a ceramic cup of coffee next to him.

"Oh don't worry. I knew what I was getting into when we wed, hmhm." Rita chuckled lightly as she planted a kiss on the top of his head. "I thought I'd wake you up today, just in case you had forgotten, though."

"Forgotten…?" Osvald said tiredly as his mind raced. "...Ah. No, I haven't forgotten, don't worry. Wouldn't miss it for all the discoveries in the world. Elena only enters school once, afterall."

Rita smiled warmly. "Just wanted to make sure. You can be forgetful."

Osvald laughed. "Yes, I suppose I certainly can." He said sadly.

Rita's expression shifted into puzzlement. "Though, you're not really supposed to be here right now, are you?"

Osvald felt a chill down his back as the room darkened slightly. This memory did not go like this. "...I…"

Rita shook her head. "No, not yet. Don't you have something you need to do?"

Osvald was confused. "My… My research?"

Rita shook her head again, insisting. "No, no, with Harvey remember? You can't be here yet." she said.

Osvald felt cold. He couldn't? He felt at peace here. For the first time in so long his heart felt at ease, he felt complete. He was here right now, could he not stay? Rita lovingly brushed his face with her hand and smiled gently.

"...Wake up, my love. We will see eachother again some day. And until then… let yourself be happy? For my sake?"

"Rita, I-"

Osvald snapped awake in an unfamiliar room, breathing heavily and with a tight throat. Slowly he forced it to slow as he swallowed bitterly, remembering the storm he was in when last awakened. Somehow, he had made it… to somewhere. Osvald could only assume it was the Eastern Continent of Solistia. He still had a long way to go for clues as to Harvey's whereabouts, but his journey had begun. He laid back into the soft covers and closed his eyes. As much as he wished to leave, he needed some rest.

Approaching boots soon stirred him as the door was flung open by an elderly man who placed a tray of bread and tea next to his bed. "Ah, the scholar stirs." He said calmly, moving away from the bed and sitting in a nearby chair. "You've been asleep for some time. Come from Frigit, have you?"

Osvald immediately rose before the man shook his head. "Oh, relax. I won't tell anyone. Seen a few prisoners like you washed up before, but never one alive."

"...How did you know I am a scholar?" Osvald said, curious. The old man held up Osvald's beloved journal and placed it on his bedside. The pages were waterlogged, but having anticipated this Osvald had enchanted the ink with a non-verbal spell. His writing should still be clear.

"I couldn't help but fancy a peak. You have some brilliant writings. I could only understand a few pieces of it." The man said, impressed.

"...Thank you." Osvald said, the slightest sense of pride playing at his lips before it was forced down. He had no more need for such things as praise anymore. "...I will need a coat." Osvald said, seeing snow falling outside the window.

"Leaving already?" The old man chuckled as he lit a wooden pipe. "Well, I figured as much. I have an old one you can use. Take it, I don't mind." Osvald stood shakily and found the coat, draping it over his prison garb. "Before you leave, as thanks?" The man said.

"I have no money." Osvald said plainly.

The man shook his head. "And I have no need for it, so that's fine. Rather, I ask that, whatever brought you to that horrible prison… that you give it up. Change your ways. That is all the payment I need."

Osvald started silently at the man. Why even waste the energy to explain that he hadn't committed any crime? That he was framed? A pointless act.

"...Alright." Osvald lied, not dwelling on it further. The old man puffed out some smoke and gestured with his hand.

"Thank you. The exit is right there. Welcome to the small fishing village of Cape Cold."

After spending some time in the village, learning about a few villagers and, frankly put, stealing some supplies, Osvald set out towards the south. His first stop was to be the cathedral near the village of Flamechurch which he estimated he would arrive at in about two days' time. He posited that, unless something drastic had changed in the last five years, people would still be making regular pilgrimages there. It was the closest hub of information other than New Delsta, which would be his next stop. After helping a man named Al find his lost map, which in all honesty Osvald only did to set eyes on an updated map of the continent only to find it was of a foreign place he had never heard of, Osvald walked silently on.

A ways south of Cape Cold, as nighttime was setting in he came across a night market set in some old ruins. Odd. Osvald thought. Why set up so far away from anywhere? Surely setting up closer to a town would be beneficial to sales. As he approached and pulled out a few stolen coin purses, a merchant flagged him down.

"Well, hello there sir! Welcome to the night market. What are you looking for today? We have rugs, fine silk, a few-"

"Do you have any magical items?" Osvald cut him off. The merchant nodded eagerly.

"Why yes, we have a few fine quality staffs to choose from, please take a look." The merchant turned away and pulled out a few basic weapons, two or three staffs barely more than a tree branch among them.

Osvald carefully ran a hand over them as he felt for any residual arcane enchantments. Only one had any left, and it was pretty faint. Still, better than nothing. "This one." He said simply, offering two coin bags.

"Absolutely sir, enjoy your purchase! Is there anything else I could interest you in?"

"No." Osvald said. "...Thank you." He said, a picture of a smiling face and a caramel apple floating briefly in his mind.

"Come again!" The merchant said cheerfully, counting coins. As Osvald turned to walk away he stopped. …No, I have to know. He turned back. "Excuse me, actually."

"Yes sir?"

"...Why are you set up so far from any towns? Surely it's a pain for any locals to travel here. It took me nearly a full day to reach this place from Cape Cold." Osvald said plainly. The merchant ran a hand through his hair as his cheery expression flattered slightly.

"W-Well sir, thats uhm… I see you're unfamiliar with our market here." He said sadly. Osvald nodded and waited for him to continue. The merchant pointed towards the east. "Well, a little that way you'll actually find a small village named Healeaks. A horrible accident happened there recently. It has since been abandoned, but this night market is raising money to help fund a potential revitalization. I wish I could say it was to help the townspeople affected by the accident, but…"

Osvald's eyes narrowed. "...but no survivors."

The merchant jumped slightly. "W-Well… yes. Are you familiar with the incident?"

Osvald shook his head. "No, I can just read people."

The merchant sighed and laughed bitterly. "You'd be a good merchant then." He took off his hat and fanned himself with it.

"...Thank you. Good evening." Osvald said, eyes fixed east. An abandoned house sounded better than a random spot in a field to rest.

Upon arriving in the village, Osvald was greeted by nothing but a howling wind and creaking sign that welcomed him to the village. In the distance he could see a single, old man staring up at the moon among a vast array of gravestones. Osvald found a house immediately to his left that would be suitable for his rest but…

…I must know more. Osvald said. His mind was starving for any sort of knowledge, the library at the prison being painfully easy to get through and barely worth glancing. It was a hunger Osvald had forced down for his own sanity, but now that he was out…

"Excuse me. What happened here?" Osvald said to the old man once he was close. The old man barely acknowledged him, slowly turning his head to look him in the eye. What Osvald saw was a broken man, physically and mentally.

"...Nobody knows, traveler. Healeaks was here one day, and the next…?" the old man tiredly gestured to all the gravestones about them.

"...bandits?" Osvald hazarded a guess.

The old man shook his head. "No, no cuts. No blood. Skin taut and purple horrible, unnatural burns. I told you. No one knows."

Osvald swallowed. Taut purple skin? On all of them? Sounded like bruising but from the old man's description it was clearly much worse. No blood? On the ground or in the bodies? Osvald's best guess was an endemic disease, but this old man showed no signs of it. Clearly he wasn't a villager but…

"How long have you been here?"

The old man sighed. "...Twelve days. I was burying them all, you see. Osvald carefully looked the man over. Looks like it can't spread after death. Good. I think I can sleep here. Osvald locked this information in the back of his mind. Perhaps if there was a disease he was unfamiliar with now on the continent, he would need to keep watch for the signs of it when interacting with people. It was valuable information. Perhaps, even, if it is a truly awful disease, he could somehow force it upon Harvey. Every day, it seemed, he thought up a new way to make the man suffer.

"...I see." Osvald said, walking away. The old man quietly went back to looking at the moon. Osvald walked to the house he had set for himself and stripped the bed of its sheets, just in case, before laying on the soft mattress. As the moonlight streamed in through the window, Osvald huddled on his side and hoped that, even if it was just this once, he could have another dream like the one he had before awakening in Cape Cold.

A/N
Surprise! Now you might be thinking to yourself "Hey uhhhhhhhh starting a new story when you have a hard time updating your only other story on a regular basis?" To which I answer,
"Yes."

OP2 has really become one of my fav JRPGs of all time and I'm absolutely in love with its characters and world. I think you guys will enjoy this one, and Wanderer of Elibe is not over (in fact expect an update within the next week)

But what is this story exactly? Kinda similar to my other story, it's going to be a novelization with more of a focus on the character interactions and journey than the MAIN main story beats. This chapter is a bit of an exception beginning here will be an exception, as we got to start them off with a bit of context but I'm writing the story with the expectation that you've played the game and have a basic understanding of each character's main plot. That's why we kinda just gloss over Osvald's prison break here, and why I spend a bit more time doing flavor once he leaves. That flavor at the end, things like interacting with merchants and townspeople (most especially the other 7 travelers when they arrive) will be the main FOCUS of this story, even though the story itself will follow the same beats as the actual game. That make sense? Also if I take a few liberties here and there, I hope you don't mind, having only played it through once I expect some hiccups more than I would for FE7 and my other story, which I've beaten over 20 times.

With all that out of the way, expect some pairings, some expansion on travel banters, very little if any fast travel (I WILL make them spend two weeks on a boat and spend a whole chapter on it dont try me) and overall some fun and heartbreak. Each chapter will have a different POV (sometimes multiple) and the next chapter will be Temenos, right before he sets out from his game Chapter 1. I'll be adding characters to the description as they appear (and updating pairings as they happen so you guys can guess before getting there) . I really hope you guys enjoy it.
Cheers!