New Beginnings

Everything was white, the blinding brilliance of it piercing Allen's eyes. A shrill noise rang in his ears as he felt the power of the four spirits surge through him, their combined strength sending him across the ether. He felt like he was sailing across the ocean, guided by the waves of the sea as he headed towards his destination.

As the light died down, Allen felt his feet touch solid ground. He crouched down to steady himself, blinking several times to help his vision adjust. He scoffed.

"Of course you would send me to where I died. You guys always had a sick, twisted sense of humor." He didn't expect a reply, but the dull emptiness he felt inside him throbbed none the less. He felt significantly weaker, more vulnerable, without their comforting presences. He was alone once more.

Wait a second... he was where he died? That couldn't be, his Halkeginia didn't have the Ancient Dragon. But where was he, then? Was he in an alternate Halkeginia? He had read of such theories from Sheffield's works, but he never expected them to be real…

"Alright, that's enough of that. Whatever the case, there should be a town nearby... I'll start my search there." Shaking his head, Allen stood up, freeing himself from his thoughts. He exited the forest without hassle, surprised to find the familiar, yet different, surrounding plains of Albion littered with bodies and signs of battle. It looked eerily similar to what he had done with Albion's forces merely minutes before. He once more thought for a split second that he was still in his own realm, before taking note of the significantly less and different species of monsters. There were many more Halkeginian and Albionian soldiers and mages than there were during Allen and Louise's battle to protect the escaping Halkeginian ships.

Allen let out a brisk sigh. Was he in the same time period as well? Was this another battle altogether?

"I need more information…"

Making his way to the village of Westwood, Allen took note of the catastrophe that had ravaged it. Many buildings were damaged, the residents working to restore their broken shelters. A few mercenaries trotted across the streets, trading and pawning supplies for food, but otherwise left the people undisturbed. As Allen continued his travel through the city, he stopped by the southern district, which was in a much better state. He saw many more of the mercenaries here, much to the people's (and personally, his own) dismay. Many of them were disturbing the peace with their loud arguments, the occasional mercenary flirting with the local females. Allen ignored it for now, stopping at a nearby tavern.

The tavern was bustling with activity, and despite the circumstances, it was still quite a feast and the tables were filled with dish after dish of rich foods. He was about to ask the bartender what happened, before something stopped him.

"Hey, watch where you're going, you damned brat!"

The sound of palm meeting flesh reached Allen's ears, and his head snapped to the source. A young brunette, probably no older than twelve, was sprawled on the floor in an undignified manner. Her maid outfit was a clear sign she was a worker here. Towering above her was a mercenary, wearing mismatched pieces of armor on his body. His sword was out, the man backed up by five companions. The other mercenaries in the bar watched with mild disinterest, while Allen tensed as the girl began to cry, ready to jump for help. But before he could, an older woman whom he assumed was a fellow worker, came to the girl's side.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?! You hurt the workers here, you get no service!" The woman retorted, her bright green hair waving slightly as she sneered at the men. For a moment, Allen experienced déjà vu, recognizing the woman, and yet not able to recall her name. Eyeing the woman with a disgusting leer, the group of them closed in on the woman.

"Hey! That's enough," Allen called out, moving between the men and the women.

"Who do you think you are, you little pretty boy? That little brat made me spill my ale, and I'll be damned if I ain't gonna get me some of that fine lass!" The mercenary cracked his knuckles threateningly, but Allen paid no heed to him. Instead, he turned around, kneeling to the girl and the woman, gently lifting them to their feet.

"Go. I'll take care of this."

"G-God bless you," the girl said as she bowed her head, before sprinting off to safety. The woman, however, merely frowned.

"No need for heroics, mister. They may be mercenaries, but there's six of them in total, one of you, and several civilians. Do you think could really take them on without someone getting hurt?" The woman's tone was more curious than scared, much to Allen's surprise. Something about this woman told him she was more than what he could see…

Still, he could worry about it later.

"It will be fine. If anyone gets hurt, I'll pay. Take them all a safe distance," replied Allen, turning to face the group of mercenaries. Allen cracked his knuckles, before taking a stance. Balancing his weight evenly, Allen slid his left foot forward, lifting up his hands, fingered relaxed. He gestured them to come forward with his left. "This'll only take a minute."

"You're a cocky little shit—" The mercenary scoffed, but was cut off as Allen lashed out with a knife chop to his neck. A loud smack, followed by a gurgle, came from the man as Allen thrust his palm into the man's chest, sending him flying into his friends, unconscious. Two of the men fell over from being hit by the body, but the other three were able to dodge; they were not happy.

The spectators shrieked as three of the mercenaries charged forward, ganging up on Allen, chairs, knives and bottles in hand. Dodging poorly coordinated swipes, Allen lashed out his forward foot at one of the thugs' knees, making it bend at an unhealthy angle. As he cried out, Allen took his weapon, a chair, neatly slid it back to its table, and elbowed the burly man across the face, knocking him out. The two that followed him cursed at Allen, rushing forward once more. Crouching low, Allen's hands were a blur as he parried their attacks, disarming them and violently throwing them onto their backs, the wooden floor cracking underneath. He stomped on their chests, taking the wind out of their lungs.

"I'll pay," he called out to the bartender absentmindedly.

The last two thugs from before screamed in anger as they ran forward with their swords. Allen easily weaved around them, palm striking the first to attack in the chin, followed by a low knee thrust to his stomach. As he hunched over, Allen forced him onto his knees, then took his sword and parried the other mercenary's strikes. The mercenary on his knees yelped as his ally's sword came dangerously close. Realizing his disadvantage, the standing mercenary was about to turn and grab one of the girls, but Allen quickly vaulted over his human shield, slapping the flat of his blade into the man's head. He fell over unconscious.

"Y-You bastard! Wait till Jerome hears about this, he'll have your head on a platter," The mercenary on his knees cried out, standing back to his feet. With a fearful gaze he sprinted towards the door, only to run face first into a stone wall. He fell back unconscious, his teeth loose. Allen relaxed his stance and turned, seeing the green haired woman from before with a wand out. Ah, now he remembered.

"That was very kind of you," Allen nodded towards Fouquet, the crumbling dirt. She was once the most feared thief in all of Halkeginia, stealing from nobles of all kinds until one day she disappeared. Was this where she went to in this world? In Allen's world, they fought to the death, though against each other's wills. Allen didn't want to kill her because he never thought of her as evil, just horribly misguided. Fouquet, too, didn't want to kill, as she didn't want to become like the nobles that she stole from, but was blackmailed into servitude. It was an ugly battle, and Allen felt relief that she was alive in this world.

Matilda wordlessly nodded, smiling coyly as she walked towards Allen, swinging her hips in an exaggerated manner; not that he minded. Deciding to think about it later, Allen began scavenging the bodies for money and a better sword. He ended up finding four gold coins and a pouch-worth of silver. He gave it to the owner of the tavern, who thanked him profusely as his fellow male workers dragged the bodies outside and the customers returned to their drinks. Throwing away the sword he took, Allen settled for the first mercenary's Falchion. It was definitely used, perhaps two or so years old, but it was still in very good condition, and a much better size fit to his hand than the rest. Fouquet watched all the while, strangely silent. He faced her again.

"That was some impressive work. What was that? I've never seen hand to hand combat used that effectively before."

"My master called it Karate; it means the empty hand way, if I recall correctly," replied Allen, cracking his neck. Fouquet's smile didn't fade as she began to examine Allen from head to toe. Allen met her gaze with a steady raise of his brow.

"Well, mister, you proved me wrong; you were able to take on those men. I'm impressed, and I'm often not by men like you. What's your name?"

"Allen, and the pleasure is all mine. I'm just glad I was able to help. May I ask your name?" Allen replied, knowing the answer already. Still, he couldn't just announce that he knew who she was. That would draw too much attention. Fouquet smiled.

"Matilda."

After exchanging pleasantries, Allen spent the next hour asking Matilda about the recent events of this Halkeginia. Much to his surprise, everything had gone almost parallel to what had happened in his world; Henrietta, the princess of Tristain, wished to siege Albion after the death of the royal family, one of them, Prince Wales, being her cousin and forbidden lover. However, things went awry after Henrietta's troops suddenly turned on her during the Silver Pentecost festival, in which both Albion and Tristain's forces signed a peace treaty for that holiday.

What interested him the most, though, was the mysterious swordsman who held back the army of 70,000 on his own.

"That's quite a feat. Did anyone get a good look at this swordsman?" Allen asked. Matilda shook her head.

"From what I've heard, the swordsman was as fast as an elf, as deadly as a dragon, and as immovable as a mountain. He took down almost half of the army on his own before they were able to subdue him, though he escaped with a spell of some sort. Many thought him to be a vengeful spirit of the royal family, others an elf. They were so demoralized by the loss that the army's advance was halted for more than two days. But by the time the mysterious swordsman had vanished, the Halkeginian army had already retreated. I find it rubbish, but the damage and scars done are very real, so it can't be a coincidence." Taking a moment to sip her tea, Matilda eyed Allen warily. "Do you believe it to be a spirit or something of the sort? That the army was held back by one person?"

"Honestly? I want to believe it. To think that someone out there is that strong? I would enjoy a battle with that person, indeed," Allen replied. He already knew that the army was held back by the Gandalf, and he meant it when he said he would enjoy a fight with him or her. It would be interesting to test how he fares against his own kind, so to speak. "I'm a travelling warrior, you see. I go about the land challenging the strongest swordsmen and magi, hoping to perfect and refine my techniques. I want to become the strongest I can possibly be, and to do that I need to challenge as many people as I can, experience as many techniques and tricks as possible, in order to reach that."

Matilda hummed at Allen's words, deep in thought before offering her own reply.

"If I may request, would you be willing to offer your expertise? I'm in need of a bodyguard of a sort. My sister and I live on the outskirts of town, and these mercenaries have been a real bother. I can't protect her all the time because I'm here earning money, so I would greatly appreciate your help." The look in her eye changed as Allen thought about her proposal. She was… honest, if he had to choose a word, although it wasn't one that he was willing to bet on. Her Fouquet persona betrayed him more than once in the past, and she was a very dangerous enemy, one of the more dangerous mages that he encountered. But the question remained; what was she doing here, in Albion of all places? Did she not become Fouquet here? So far everything seemed normal about this world's Fouquet. She had a stable job, she had family, and she had a home. She never mentioned having a family when she was working for Osmond in his world, only that she was the last of her clan. Still, her offer wasn't a bad idea, either. It cleared up his need for shelter and gave him a source of income. Plus, he hadn't planned on travelling any time soon, so he could gather information about the timeline of this dimension. This world's Fouquet already offered him this much information, so if he were to request more, this is the least he could do to repay her.

With a smile, Allen nodded his head.

"Alright, I'll do it."

-Mother and Son-

"Our home is just around this path." Gesturing for Allen to follow, Matilda led Allen along a series of winding paths. Allen did his best to make a mental map, but it was rather difficult. Everything looked too similar, the trees being very close to each other. He had to commend those mercenaries who had found them. This was rather hard.

"Unfortunately, to help avoid unwanted visitors, we memorized our way around, so I hope you have a good memory," said Matilda, leading Allen through the forest. It was dusk, so following Matilda wasn't too much of a hassle.

"It's a wonder that you were ever found at all."

Eventually, after several minutes of exchanging simple pleasantries, they reached a humble looking hut. Vegetation covered the roofing somewhat, adding to the blend of natural camouflage. The sun had already set, the lamps within the hut shining brightly as Allen and Matilda walked closer.

"Fine! Enjoy your time with the person who saved your life!"

It was a voice that Allen recognized all too well. Louise burst out of the doors, sprinting off into the night. What the hell was Louise doing here? Matilda, just as confused, decided to go inside to check what happened. Allen followed close behind.

"Oh, Saito! You're back, and with company," cried out Matilda in surprise. Allen, however, was frozen in place.

Siesta. She was alive in this world.

"U-Um… excuse me, is there something on my face?" Siesta asked, confused. She blushed slightly as Allen remained trapped in his stupefied state, blinking a few times. Why is he surprised? She shouldn't be, this was an alternate reality, after all. He shouldn't be…

A whirlwind of agony consumed him as he arrived at the village of Tarbes, the once peaceful village razed to an ashen black plain. Something inside him snapped, and he lost control, his soul screaming for vengeance. There was so much blood. There was so much screaming. There was so much death. But in the end, all that remained was the heavy weight of his failure.

"Allen, are you alright?" Matilda's voice pierced through Allen's thoughts, Allen coughing before excusing himself.

"My apologies, madam. Your beauty was particularly stunning," he replied with a smile. Making a bow, Allen introduced himself. "My name is Allen. What are your names?"

The black haired boy answered first. "My name is Saito. This is Siesta," said Saito, gesturing to the black haired girl Allen knew all too well. He then gestured to the soldier he recognized from Henrietta's Musketeer squadron, "and that's Agnes. The one who just ran out was Louise."

Allen took note of his extremely strange clothes; his pants were made out of a fabric he didn't recognize, but it matched well with his blue and white sweater. On his back was Derflinger, although Allen didn't recognize the sword right away. Was this boy the Gandalf? But the runes aren't on his left hand…

"What happened with Miss Valliere, Saito?" Matilda asked. Saito let out a big sigh, explaining the situation.

"We've come at the request of Queen Henrietta to search for Tiffa," Saito gestured to the girl garbed in green. A wide rimmed, cotton hat sat upon the top of her blonde head. "Since she saved my life, Henrietta wanted to thank her personally, so we came back to get you both. Louise got mad for some reason though. I don't understand her sometimes… and what is it with her obsession with breasts?" Allen couldn't help but snort, although no one seemed to mind. Indeed, Louise was a very jealous person. Judging from the huge melons on Miss Tiffa, she probably thought that Saito was seduced. God knows his Louise made that mistake several times. Matilda let out a soft hum.

"We can sort that out later. Right now, we should probably find Miss Valliere. There have been mercenaries wandering around at this time of night; she might get into trouble." Saito gasped at the mention of the mercenaries, no doubt wanting to bolt straight away. However, Agnes held him back, placing a quick hand on his shoulder.

"Saito, I know you're worried about Miss Valliere, but I think you're the last person she wants to see right now. Siesta and I will go look for her. You, Miss Tiffa, Miss Matilda, and Mister Allen stay here."

"B-But why?!" Saito protested, distraught. Allen decided to step in.

"I'm assuming that you want Miss Siesta's womanly touch, regarding the situation, Miss Agnes?"

"Indeed, and just Agnes is fine. If what Matilda says is true, with mercenaries wandering about, I'll be able to protect them both. Right now, Saito, you're a liability without your runes."

Wait a second… The Gandalf of this world lost his runes? But the only way to remove them is with death! Allen couldn't help but stare with wonder as he noticed that Saito saw the logic in their proposal, obviously not liking it. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth, before sighing. "Alright. Please, keep Louise and Siesta safe." Agnes scoffed at Saito's answer, giving him a wry smile.

"You discredit me, Saito. I've fought more times than you've touched yourself at night. Your friends will be safe with me, I promise."

With a wave of her hand, Agnes left the hut, Siesta blushing heavily as she followed behind, the two leaving Matilda and Allen laughing very hard, Tiffa very confused, and Saito very red.