The Dustbin

Day 23: Social Studies Part Final


15th of Garland Moon, Afternoon


Three days after their rescue, the Dustbin (sans Cyrus) were stuck inside the medical wing of the Monastery to sleep off their wounds and injuries that were more in common with seasoned veterans like Jeralt and his company, not students who hasn't reached past the age of 21.

Cyrus was the only one who wasn't present in the infirmary due to him not sustaining any injuries and the worst he'd received was that his uniform needed to be replaced for the amount of blood that was covered with.

Regarding minor injuries, only Topaz fell into that category. Suffering only minor burns and bruises around her legs, overall a few days more of sleep and food and she'll be back in working order.

As for intermediate injuries, Byron, Sorcha and Selene suffered several bodily burns and cuts all over their bodies, along with some signs of malnutrition no thanks to their treatment during their week-long imprisonment. Specific injuries for each of them included, but not limited to, broken arm and a leg along with frostbite for Byron, broken ribs and knuckles for Sorcha, and Selene herself suffered carpel tunnel syndrome along with concentrated burns around her fingers from using a [Steel Bow] in a high-heat environment.

And finally, when it came to for what it can be best described as "near-death experiences," Byron and Karna were the ones who suffered deliberately-inflicted injuries. Both being the only two who'd stayed inside the burning fort for undisclosed reasons, because of which, they'd suffered severe burns and injuries. Karna himself suffered multiple skull fractures, a dislocated jawline and a broken nose, and Vidar, on top of his preexisting injuries, was now sporting 10 broken fingers from the thumbscrews and was developing necrosis around his forearms.

"... All of you..." Manuela groaned out as she looked away from the bedridden Dustbin students and their Professor after reading through the list of their injuries for which it can collectively described as "inhumane", "... do all of you have a death wish or something?!"

"No," Topaz bluntly pointed out, "this is tame compared to what I go through."

"The Empire's worst can't even break me," boasted Sorcha, "compared to them, the Kingdom-men are a bunch of babies."

"You broke half of your ribs swinging around that slab of raw iron that you call a sword!" the head nurse pointed out as her finger pointed to the [Claymore] leaned against the wall next to Sorcha's cot, being taller than Manuela herself in comparison, "the spirit may be willing, but the flesh can only take so much!"

"Counterpoint?" Selene remarked as she closed her book and stashed away her vision-correcting glasses that she had replaced, "Vidar." She pointed towards the bandaged boy, who had all of bandages replaced with clean ones the day prior during their stay in the infirmary. Now he himself, despite not being cleared for release, was walking around as if the torture inflicted upon him during their capture were nonexistent.

"I had to see the poor thing's burn tissues when I had to replace his bandages..." shuddered Manuela, "... whoever did this to him, may the Goddess strike them down without mercy."

"Get in line, nurse," Byron remarked as his arms and legs were bandaged from frostbite and several fractures, "a lot of people wanted both of us dead one reason or another."

"Also," Manuela sighed out, "... where's Cyrus?"

"Catherine's tutoring him," Karna, finally out of his stuffy black robes and his messy white tuft of hair exploded out for all to see, "he's dead-set on passing his Beginner's Exam ever since his last failure," the Professor explained, "I think letting him vent in the battlefield was something that was needed to keep his sanity in check."

"Vent?" Manuela incredulously remarked, "what he did was wholesale slaughter!" the head nurse pointed out, "I even heard that Catherine and her whole squad had to hold him back from eating the dead horses on the battlefield!"

"Battu customs," Karna explained, "nothing goes to waste over there, especially horses."

Manuela groans in frustration as she sat back down on her stool. "We're in Fodlan," she pointed out, "don't mean to sound prejudiced but I think we should tell him to not worry about food. We have plenty to eat here."

"You realize one of us are banned from the Mess Hall, right?" Karna pointed out.

"Whose fault is it?" asked Manuela, with Vidar raising his hand, "... you were the one with the spoon?" she asked the bandaged boy before the latter nodded, "... oh you poor soul."

The doors from the infirmary open, revealing Seteth with an expression that is best described as "angered beyond all belief"/Karna's typical Tuesday.

"You," the adherent snarled out to the professor.

"Sup," deadpanned Karna, "how was the info that I gathered for you guys?" the Professor remarked in the smarmiest of tones possible, "would you like a mission summary on top of that?"

Seteth lets out a low growl before taking a deep breath and exhaling, calming his nerves before resuming to speak with Karna. "Only after you and your basket case of hellions that you call your class explain everything to the Archbishop. In person."

Karna then looks around the infirmary to see if any of them are able to walk, Vidar performing walking handstands despite his necrosis notwithstanding.

"... Manuela dear," Karna said, "do you have a wheelchair around here?"


At the Audience Hall before Archbishop Rhea...

"Greetings, Professor Karna Yuga," the Archbishop greeted with a deadpan expression, "I take it that you were the one who provided this valuable intel?"

"That Lord Lonato of Gaspard is being played like a fiddle by someone else?" Karna replied, "and that the mutually shared hatred to your religion between the parties being no coincidence?"

"I am not blind to the fact that our faith has detractors," Rhea pointed out, "regardless, Lord Lonato has raised an army against us. We must meet force with our own."

"I take it that he won't be spared?" Karna pointed out, much to the surprise of anyone, "... what?" he asked, "look, I talked to him. He's not out for power or for any self-validation to make himself the new Archbishop or anything. He's just a emotionally vulnerable man who's being taken advantage of by powers beyond him."

"The fact that you failed to convince him to do otherwise is reason enough, Professor Karna," Rhea pointed out, "also, no. Your class is not being dispatched to the front, for many reasons that are glaringly obvious."

"Once is enough," Byron remarked, who himself has a sling for his left arm and leg, his right hand pointing towards the wheelchair he was sitting on, "... so what then? The idiot old man dies without knowing what the real truth is and the whole incident gets swept under the rug?"

"A necessity," Seteth replied, "the Church's role within Fodlan is to promote peace and stability throughout the three nations," he pointed out, "should the news of an anti-Church insurrectionist movement spread outwards, it will spawn more movements against us like an infestation of fungi."

"Bloody ell'..." Sorcha remarked with widened eyes, "... and I thought the Empire takin' me home was bad."

"It's like puttin' down a dog with rabies," Selene remarked, "he doesn't deserve it but it needs to be done so he won't hurt other people."

"He made his bed," Topaz curtly pointed out, "now he must lie in it... or the saying goes," she remarked before she looked towards Seteth, "that is how the saying goes, right?"

Seteth nods.

"I'd say good riddance," Byron sighed out, "Lord Lonato's little temper tantrum is Faerghus's cultural flaws in a nutshell."

"A shame, but oh well," Karna clicked his tongue, "... we messed up and this is the result," he sighed out, "but I get the feeling that I was set up the whole time for failure?"

"Do you have any evidence?" Rhea replied before an expired passport was thrown before her feet.

"Admit it, you knew this whole time," Karna pointed out, "you knew I had an expired passport. And of course, before you say that the fault lies within yours truly..." the Professor took the words out of both the Archbishop's and Seteth's mouths, "... you know about the stories, don't you?"

"Can someone please explain?" Topaz remarked, "just what the Professor did to earn the ire of every single bureaucrat across this accursed continent?"

Seteth lets out a sharp sigh before he explained. "To make an extremely long and complicated farce of a story short..." he begun sharing the story spread from all three of Fodlan's corners, "one instance ended with the building being set on fire after being struck by lightning, the other were ransacked by bandits that were tailing behind the Professor, one got destroyed in a mudslide and many others were destroyed in so many different, ludicrous ways wherever Karna ends up," the adherent finishes explaining, "ever since, he's been blacklisted from every single census bureau facility. Normally, this would result in a permanent house arrest..."

"Hey! Not my fault that an angry mob burnt my home down!" Karna indignantly pointed out, "... ever since, I've been homeless and have been exiled from every nation in Fodlan. I'm not even a legal citizen anymore. I'm a bandit all but in name!"

"Which is why I sent you and your class as bait in the first place," Rhea bluntly pointed out, "unlike those who were driven into the depths of the Abyss at the hands of others, you seven are practically persona non grata within the laws of Fodlan. No one cares who you are, no one knows who you are and especially, no one will remember who has been killed by you lot. No decent person of Fodlan will have to sully their hands with such work of the more... duplicitous of nature. Hence, a team of non-lawful Fodlan students will have to take covert missions to act as a penal squadron," she explained, "consider this position that I'm offering... a chance of redemption."

"Kill enough undesirables and we'll be hailed as heroes?" Topaz quickly dissected the Archbishop's words, "how utterly unprofessional."

"Then what do you describe the mess you and Cyrus had made at both Arundel and Varley?" asked Rhea.

"We lost our weapons when the others got captured," the Hassan replied, "no one but the Cavaliers chasing us died."

"True, but you two also have been charged with larceny, minor property damage and also unlawful border trespassing," Seteth explained, "but, we were able to clear up the that little mess and the lords and our administrators have come up with an agreement."

"Uh oh," remarked Byron, "I don't like the sound of this."

"From the beginning to the end of the next Moon, all of the Dustbin will cease all extracurricular activities and perform community service around the Empire's regions of Arundel and Varley," Seteth declared, "not only for the reasons known to the public, but there's an important event that the whole Monastery needs to prepare for, and the last thing we need are more troublemakers."

Everyone in the Dustbin lets out an annoyed groan in response to that piece of news.

"So keep us busy somewhere else while you lot do your own thing of your own importance," Byron remarked, "... reasonable enough."

"Ugh... working for the Empire..." Sorcha groaned out, "... Imma feel like shite."

"Hopefully, no will recognize us... right?" Selene begged, "... please tell me Enbarr is really, really far away..."

"Fine, I'll assign a chaperone," Seteth grumbled out, "Catherine already has a lot on her plate for the coming months... you know what? Alois."

"Good," Karna remarked with a sarcastic snort and gaff, "his painful puns will serve as anesthetic to our lack of dignity."

"Any questions before we adjourn?" asked Rhea, clearly being done with this awkward exchange of words.

"... Um," Karna raised his hand, "... about our rewards-"

"We're cutting it in half," Seteth cut in mid-sentence before he handed the check to Karna, reading only 2500 gold.

"Bollocks."


27th of Garland Moon, Dawn


"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'RE DONE HERE?!" Lord Lonato cried out over the table as he slammed his fist onto the wooden surface.

At the other side of the war room in his main estate sat the Flame Emperor along with the masked Black Mage and the demonic-looking Death Knight.

"We don't support lost causes," the Flame Emperor explained, "ever since our schemes have been revealed during the fort fire two weeks prior, we've been slowly losing ground and now we're cornered on this last strip of unoccupied land!" the armored figure pointed out, "all of the mercenaries we've hired nulled their contracts with full refunds, the Western Church no longer sends us aid through our supply lines and our own internal affairs are turning into a massive circus after I had to inform some of my 'specialists' that their cover-up did the opposite of what it meant to do!"

"Point being," the Black Mage remarked, the Flame Emperor ceasing his rant for a moment as he breathed in and out, "we have no direct stakes in this fight. We're only here to help you, not die for you."

"Be honored," the Death Knight's voice echoed out from its macabre-looking helmet, "a warrior's death awaits. My only regret is that I won't be there to witness it."

"T-TRAITORS!" Lord Lonato spat out, "COWARDS! BACKSTABBERS!"

"An apt description," the Flame Emperor shot back towards the incensed Lord of Gaspard, "but we are not that heartless."

"All of our donations sans our own men?" said the Black Mage, "those are yours to use as you may see fit."

"A soldier without arms is nothing more than cattle waiting for slaughter," the Death Knight declared, "as much as I'd love to mow the Church's men of arms down myself, I have my orders."

Lord Lonato, after everything he'd done and gave up in the name of avenging Christophe for his wrongful death, now had nothing. Nothing to say, nothing to think.

"... You have no one to blame but yourself," declared the Flame Emperor as he stood up from his seat, "a slave to your own emotions."

"... Then what do I do?" asked Lord Lonato, "WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

The Flame Emperor walks out of the war room that they were in as the other two masked fellows followed.

"... Do your duty," said the Flame Emperor, "as the Lord of this region, you'd know what's best for your people."

As the doors shut behind the three of the enigmatic figures, Lord Lonato rushed towards it to speak to them one last time, but by the time he'd managed to reach for the handles, none of them were to be seen present.

He was now alone, with no one else to help him, nowhere left to retreat and no plan of attack that would give them a fighting chance to survive another day.

"... Christophe," Lord Lonato sobbed out, "... I'm a terrible father..." he whimpered pathetically, "... I let you die over a lie... now my men are going to die for the same reason!"

There was nothing but blood on his hands. He was already trudging through a swamp of blood and guts to even stand up to the lie that he was wronged by.

He was supposed to be a Lord for the sake of his people. And now they are at Death's eyes like lambs to a slaughter.

"... I failed you all," he sobbed out, "there's no way out-"

..."No way out."

That was it. Either if they surrender or fight, only death awaited them.

There was only one option left. Not as an avenger for his blood son. But as a Knight of Faerghus.

In the pits of despair, he'd found his resolve. To not die as a pathetic dead man walking, but as a Knight under the Goddess's watch.

He then picks himself up from his knees and dries his tears from his aged eyes.

"... I'm getting too old for this," Lonato grumbled to himself as he walked out of the castle, "might as well use up what little time I've left to do something meaningful."

As he approached the castle's front doors, a Soldier approaches him. "Sir?" he asked.

"Gather all the troops," the Lord ordered.

Upon the Lord's command, every last men in his army were gathered before him in a raised platform. Numbering only about 500 to their previous 1000. Nevertheless, he had a job to do.

It was time to state the facts and guide them the way forward.

"Listen up, all of you," declared the Lord to the last of his troops, "this is our last chance to die as we've lived. As proud soldiers of Faerghus and of the Goddess," he truthfully stated, "if we survive this fight, imprisonment and a hushed-up execution await us. If we run from this fight, dishonor and pursuit will dog our miserable days," he pointed out the diverging fates awaiting them, "so I say, let's give those curs beguiled by that witch calling herself the Archbishop a fight to remember, and let the glory of our deaths light our way!"

"... I'm with you, Lord Lonato!" a Fighter replied, "Christophe's death must be avenged!"

"To hell with the gallows!" a Myrmidon bellowed out, "I'd rather die on my feet than run with my tail between my legs!"

"This is what we've been training our whole lives for!" the Knight hollered out as he banged his fists against his own armor, "we are our Lord's shield, not the Church's!"

"That's right!" a Soldier cried out as he rattled his [Steel Lance] in the air, "justice is on our side!"

Lord Lonato couldn't believe it. Even in the face of absolute death, his men stood firm. No fear was found in their eyes, only the zeal to fight and die for the truth, even if it means dying at the hands of liars.

... Ah, thought the Lord, I'm not fighting alone.

He smiled, knowing that he must now lead them to their demise. Yet without regrets, but with absolute conviction.

"We've lived as proud soldiers! Now let us die as proud soldiers!" the Lord declared as his men roared in vigor, "NOW GO!" Lonato's voice bellowed, "GATHER THE LAST OF YOUR STRENGTHS! SHARPEN YOUR BLADES AND ARMS! ERECT THE BARRICADES! EVACUATE THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN! AS FOR YOU BRAVE MEN WHO'VE GATHERED BEFORE ME! LET NOT THE FALSE SHEPHERD AND HER FOLLOWERS TAKE ANY OF YOU ALIVE!"

The troops roared with renewed morale as they all scattered to do what their Lord had decreed.

"Milord?" a Soldier asked, "about the evacuees?" he pointed out as the Lord strode back to his study, "where will they go? Who will accept them?"

"I know a place," the Lord remarked as he entered his study, "it's far, but thankfully it's summer, not winter," he pointed out, "I'll write an appeal to let my people enter Gideon as refugees."

"Shall I prepare a falcon, Lord Lonato?" asked the Soldier.

"Northeast," he replied as he set out a paper onto his desk.

As soon as the Soldier leaves the study, the quill that was resting in the ink bottle hit the paper with the message to the Lord of Gideon to take in his non-combatants, citing that this war is his fight, not everyone in his region.

"Let them live, for we have chosen to die." He wrote. "As a Knight of Faerghus, I will stand firm in the name of the truth that the Church has chosen to obscure."

As soon as he finished writing his letter of appeal with a wax stamp next to his signature, Lonato wraps the message into a roll before writing another message of confirmation for his people to hold onto.

"... It is finished," Lonato sighs out as the sun rose next to him with the two messages before him.

As soon as he handed the message to the Soldier feeding the messenger bird's traveling meal before wrapping its leg with the message of appeal, the two then sees the bird fly off towards the daybreak in the direction towards Gideon.

"Tell my people," he ordered the solider as he handed him a letter of confirmation, "tell them: DON'T LOOK BACK."

As both he and the Soldier went out of the castle, the two looked at the bustle of troops readying themselves for their final battle.

"Death before dishonor." That was to be their collective epithet as Knights of the Goddess carved onto the hill they choose to die on.


30th of Garland Moon, Morning


Almost making a full recovery, the Dustbin were allowed to go outside the medical wing of the Monastery to get some sunlight for their recovery. As for Cyrus himself, void of any injuries, was about to retake his Beginner's Exam after days of studying under Catherine's tutelage. But before he entered the dreaded Study Halls yet again, he was allowed some time to look out into the horizon with his class as they watched the company of Church Soldiers along with Professor Byleth Eisner's own class of Black Eagles followed behind my the Blue Lions and the Golden Deer to "pacify" the Gaspard Region because of the Dustbin's failure to deal with this matter discreetly.

"What can you do when the whole world has its eyes on ye?" asked Sorcha as she looked out towards the row of men of arms like a line of ants marching in one direction.

"Almost everything," Byron replied, "destroying one or two regions?" he snorted out, "it's an easy task from here."

"The promise of peace wasn't a guarantee," explained Karna as he eyed towards the comparatively-green kids with arms marching to a small-scale war, "it was only the beginning of a countdown."

Vidar lets out a grunt with a nod, looking forlorn at his own loss of control because of his own fears.

"Look at them," Cyrus remarked as she saw the swarm of wooden mobiles pulled by horses carrying additional men and barrels alike marching out from the gates below them, "they're all heading towards hell."

"What's sad is..." Selene clicked her tongue while correcting himself mid-sentence, "... that we gotten used to this," she remarked in a bitter and semi-melancholic tone, "... I mean our senses... dat's just pathetic."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that we're not human," Topaz bluntly pointed out.

Karna lets out a sigh before he leads the Dustbin out of the walls. "Okay, now you're not helping."

The news of Lord Lonato's death and the "pacification" of the Gaspard Region has reached to the Dustbin's know later that evening on the same day.


To Be Continued...


Support Conversations:


- Karna and Topaz (C)

Karna: Hello Miss Topaz. Out about late, as usual.

Topaz: Likewise.

Karna: So... anything keeping you up this late?

Topaz: Professor, I've been thinking... as a person of a different cloth compared to here, I must ask... what is its view of death?

Karna: Pardon? You're asking me?

Topaz: For someone who has danced with death on a daily basis due to his calamitous misfortune, yes. I am very, very interested.

Karna: ... I'm not just a black cat bringing forth chaos wherever I go, Miss Topaz.

*looks around, finds nothing of sort to make sure that he isn't jinxing it*

Karna: ... Yes. I am more than my own misfortune and people who are out for my head.

Topaz: Yet, the shadow still follows... What makes you resist so dearly?

Karna: Does being able to die any day now a deterrent to live my life to the fullest?

Topaz: I find that... paradoxical.

Karna: How so? How is living to the fullest paradoxical of in itself?

Topaz: My religion states that the goal of all life is death. No matter how many misfortunes come our way, no matter how many works towering to the skies above we may erect, everything is destined to erode and fade away into oblivion. The only solace is that we can live with one truth: that all life in this world dies. Whether through sickness, old age, accidents or at the hands of someone else. To resist is folly. To run away is denial. Yet here, all I see is denial after denial, thinking that some invisible maiden would make any difference in the end.

Karna: Your religion doesn't have a deity of worship?

Topaz: Even the so-called "gods" die with their so-called "religion." Anything fabricated in the hands of mortals are fated to fade away in due time.

*Topaz looks back, finds a black cat meowing as it tipped over a flower pot and shatters it onto the ground*

Topaz: That right there? That is life. It comes and goes and we have no say when or how. The only right we have is to accept it when it comes.


Author's Notes: Well, that is a good way to wrap up this arc. Financial aid is paid off, Winter 2022 is about to start and my novel's first chapter is going smoothly. Have one more free week left before the 20th. Might as well do what I can and make the most of it.

So yes, Rhea literally designates the Dustbin as the Church's Black Ops Penal Squadron ala Clone Force 99/Bad Batch from Star Wars or Squad 422/"The Nameless" from Valkyria Chronicles III. Unlike those two examples however, the Dustbin are okay with the arrangement, albeit because they actually enjoy killing people and they have no prior connections with Fodlan (sans Byron but he's really just that sociopathic), so they don't care if they have to do the Church's dirty laundry as long as they get to kill people.

The darkest interpretation of "find what you like and you'll never have to work a single day in your life."

As for Lord Lonato, I want to make his final stand not akin to a one-shot antagonist, but as a man with literally nothing left to lose and a reconstructed example of "A Father to His Men" trope. He knows that this is his last dance and despite the truth away from his truth. He knows that talk is cheap. It's literally "Death before dishonor," both showcasing Faerghus's cultural flaws while showing its best.

That said, I might be taking the next week off as an extension to finish off my Apocrypha fic's final chapter before working on a "Book 2." Until then, gonna go on another hiatus until June to focus on my second semester for my third year and hopefully get into my university's novel class.

With that, peace.

References:

- Lord Lonato's final speech to his remaining troops before the canon [Mutiny in the Mist] chapter is based off Jarod's speech during last stand in Radiant Dawn.

- "Death before dishonor" is a Darkest Dungeon 2 reference, a move used by the Drummer enemies when they're the only ones left on their side.

- The Dustbin seeing off the canon MC heading towards [Mutiny in the Mist] chapter is a reference to Killer7's final cutscene of Chapter 2 - Sunset.