Chapter 5

Anyone interested in being my beta reader? Or editor? Or are they the same thing?

One thing I noticed about me that I should have realized wayyy before, is that I spend a lot of time micromanaging even the most minute details.

The last chapter took me approximately fifty rereads before I felt confident about it… and even now, it's left me somewhat unsatisfied. If you read my notes, I keep ranting on and on about fighting perfectionism. I still do, and still would.

As an artist, I want to find the perfect way to do everything, even the smallest things. And I end up in an endless circle of self-hatred and insecurity that drives me to a corner.

English is my second language and there's a limit to what I can do. It's causing me burnout and it's nothing I can brute force.

I can't do this alone.

Send help.

Wait. Uhh. Not sure how it works but is it free?


start


"He fought with a what?" Jean muttered with her forehead creasing in concentration. She massaged her eyes. Her fatigue must be worse than initially thought if she read that right.

With the moonlight dawning the world in the sun's absence, her office chandelier did not give the needed clarity as her eyes bore themselves into the page with intensity. Rereading, apparently there was nothing wrong with her. She triple-checked, setting it near her candelabrum as close as possible without setting it aflame. According to witnesses from different sources, one of them being an alchemist under the Investigation Company, John weaponized a shield by hurling it like a throwing axe… that he used against a mitachurl!

Even the elites amongst their ranks find it precarious fighting them one-on-one… she lightly slammed the file on her table. No… it must be fatigue. She's lost it.

Three quick knocks on the door interrupted her thought.

"Might I intrude a moment?" A muffled voice came from the other side of her office.

"Albedo, is that you?" She might get the answers she needs. If not, then clues to John's identity and origin. While she had no suspicions of his severe head injury that led to his amnesia (and mercy on him if it worsened from his recent one), that didn't ease her reservations. However, it's nothing more than mere curiosity inclined to his… exotic fashion.

Among other things.

"Come in." The door clicked open as the chief of the alchemists let himself in, his arm holding a clipboard. Strangely, Albedo was not wearing his usual hooded coat, but a dark, plain robe instead.

"Perfect timing. Has the Investigation Company finished their analysis of our… is that John's coat you're wearing?"

"I'm sure you're wondering why." Albedo said straight and simple, if not a little stressed as the recent times demanded extra workloads, "The answer is that it'd be more convenient for a demonstration than it would've otherwise. Observe."

Albedo connected the two ends of the hem as he pulled the tab.

Ziiiiiip.

Jean's mix of confusion and surprise washed away her fatigue.

"Fascinating, isn't it? This fastening mechanism bonds two sides seamlessly." Although stressed from the hours of labor spent producing Klee's specialty gunpowder, that did nothing to numb his astonishment.

"… I admit I find this novel." Jean puckered her lips to the side. "But I don't understand how this is relevant."

"This should help." Albedo offered a magnifying glass. Jean stood from her chair and walked to him, receiving the glass kindly. "Inspect every serrated "teeth" and you'll find why."

"Could you do… that again?" Jean fixated on each serration. Albedo tugged the hem of the jacket down to keep the zipper taut and straight, and with his fingers pinching the zipper tag, slowly he pulled up and down as it clicked and chittered. The uniform and equidistant teeth from two sides conjoined once the tab passed through them and vice versa… which was nothing short of a wonder.

"It'd be a titanic task for human hands to make this, as each tooth must be perfectly identical to interlock." Albedo reasoned. "Hence our rationale that this must be machine-made from mechanized nations, which led to our conclusion that he must be either Snezhnayan or Fontainian if we're to ignore his facial features."

Jean's eye concentrated on every tooth, each as small as a grain of wheat. She admired how it all worked so… effortlessly. She could compare this precision craftsmanship to clockwork imports from Fontaine.

"Apart from this mechanism, the density of the weave..." Albedo paused, rethinking his angle of approach. Clothes should be the last of Jean's concerns. "Perhaps I should stop here. I believe we don't have the luxury exploring weaving techniques, but I think you already get the notion-"

"Jean! You have to try this!" Kaeya walked in bombastically. Jean noticed Kaeya was holding his cavalry boots with one hand, then turned her attention to… John's exotic shoes in substitute. He showed off by "jogging" on the spot. "It's these shoes. Weird design aside, there's just… something off about them."

"Huh. So you're the one who took it." Albedo's cold deadpan caused Kaeya to giggle softly, "I was going to bring that to my lab for material analysis had I had the time."

"Which you don't." Kaeya grinned cockily, his words sliding in a sing-song. "I knew you were busy restocking munitions, so I thought, why not test it in the meantime? And don't make it sound like I'm a thief when it was your team who took it without a certain someone's consent."

Albedo groaned in mild annoyance at Kaeya's hypocrisy. "Well it was you who seconded the investigation, and the maids had his clothes-"

"Ah-ah. Doesn't matter." Before Albedo could retort, Kaeya pulled off John's sneakers like a child showing off a bug they found to their parents. "Since you're already wearing his jacket, then you really should try this next. You'll know what I'm on about."

Kaeya wore back his own boots, while Albedo untied and pulled off his; there was no harm entertaining Kaeya, whose enthusiasm only fueled his curiosity about what makes John's shoes so special.

"Oh…" Done tugging the shoes as firm, Albedo sauntered around to get a feel. While the shoes did not perfectly fit, it was secure enough. The paddings, the grip, the flexibility. There was nothing else like it. For shoes that have thick soles, it was counterintuitively weightless while granting comfort miles beyond what leather shoes cannot accomplish.

… Are these even leather?

"The ergonomics is… unexpectedly excellent," Albedo exclaimed a little too excitedly. "Compared to this, if I instead use our standard issue footwear, I might as well walk barefoot."

"Seeeee?! I spare no mora for my things and here I thought I had the best!" Kaeya removed his furred half-cape and unbuttoned his blouse. "It's simply an otherworldly experience, isn't it? Now, my good man, can I try that jacket in exchange?"

Perhaps Jean should also try it? If these two Captains are giving their praises, then it must be a must-have experience…

Wait.

No.

She coughed twice with exertion, giving them both a half-amused glare. Her arms crossed with ilk. "Did you enter with nothing else in mind, Captain? I hope you brought something more important."

She picked up all Kaeya's top wear. She didn't need to put it near her nose to discern the scent that was anything but Kaeya's cologne. Of course, the Cavalry Captain treats this siege as any. Leave it to the romantic hedonist who knows how to destress.

"Oh but of course. I was about to tell you that John just awoke-"

"You couldn't have told that first?!" Jean slapped Kaeya's blouse to his chest as she jogged to the doorway. "One of you call Lisa!"

The other two followed post haste.

"Seriously, you have to try the shoes!" Shouted Kaeya, putting on his clothes in a rush.

"Strangely enough, I second that!" Albedo ran to the hallway behind them, forgetting his boots and leaving them behind.



"He's waking up… I think. I'll inform the captains." A man's voice resounded in John's ears in a way that made him think he was underwater.

His first instinct was to move his hand to his throbbing headache. His fingers felt fabric, which led him to think it wasn't migraine. But he can't recall what caused it. Maybe this time, he really was struck with amnesia. Whatever. It'll come back anyway.

"Ahhhh…" John stretched his arms until they made a pop.

With a glance around the room lit by wall torches, he saw he was in a patient ward where all bunker beds were occupied, and he didn't want to know if the dudes whose arms hung down were dead next to him. There were two guards in full plate armor with brass linings, engrained with the Order's coat of arms, stand beside the doorway.

"Ey yo sup dudes." John giggled goofily. He felt a little funny, like coming out of the room after a dental operation. He threw random gang signs with giggles, deranged as a rabid rat. The guards posed defensively thinking he was casting offensive magic, their breaths shortened as they held their shields tightly to their chests with caution.

"Chu mind tel'n me where'm?" His voice cracked midway like a teenager, which did not ease their fright. Then he recalled something else. Wasn't he supposed to receive his wage yesterday? "Ofuck. My-pay. Hertha? Oi! You! Ya'll know where'n mefuch?"

"Ah... So our dear hero finally awakens… ish." The cavalry captain walked in along with the other two.

"Shir?" With one arm, John copied their salute from memory.

"Drop the- Haha!" Kaeya laugh-scoff with a playful grin, amused by John's poor attempt at their salute. "Drop the sir. No need for formalities. That cryo abyss mage didn't do a number on your head now, did it?"

"Mhmmm… neyowp?" His head drooped to the side haphazardly.

Everyone exchanged looks.

Lisa's shoes clacked on the stone floor. She jogged into the room with beads of sweat and heat on her face. "Oh thank goodness you're awake. A part of me is greatly worried that you have fallen in a coma."

She unbandaged his, well, head bandages. "John? Dear? I'm aware you're feeling odd. It's the bandage. It has magical properties that numb your nervous system. Its effects should come off right about… now."

The memories flooded as if a dam had just broken.

"… John? You do remember us, right? You're staring like we're not here."

John's eyebrows creased from the flooding memories. He said flatly with no expression, "What happened to that fluffy bastard?"

"Fluffy bastard." Kaeya parroted. "Ha! That's a new one. But uhh we lost 'em. When Sara told us you were out there… fighting with a shield, we hardly believed her. So uh…" His eyes turned guilty, scratching his head behind, wincing his eye. "Haha… had we arrived earlier you wouldn't be here right now."

"I'm alive, that's better than dead." John's bluntness drew chuckles.

"So how are you feeling, cutie?"

"I'm feeling alive, thank you very much." His bluntness made them cackle. He inspected everyone else in the room.

"Hey… you. Those are mine." John pointed accusingly to Albedo's shoes with a slight scowl. They're the only kicks on his person since his transmigration. One of the few mementos from Earth to which he can never return. "Give those back, kid."

"Oh! My apologies." Albedo knelt to unshoe. "I can explain everything if you let me."

"Creep." John deadpanned. He wasn't usually judgmental, but he deliberately agitated them to study their reaction and behavior. "Is it normal around here to wear what's not yours?"

"It's all a misunder-"

"Yeah, Albedo. That is sooo unkind of you." Kaeya's grin became cocky, his eye half-closed in a playful demeanor. "As far as definition goes, borrowing without consent is no different from thievery. Oh but of course, a genius like you knows that already."

Albedo groaned like a dog in pain, head stooping forward as if his neck muscles were anesthetized. "You're making this worse."

"Am I?" Kaeya played it off innocently, his eyebrow arching like a cat stretching after a nap. The cliched comparison of a cat toying with a mouse seemed fitting for the cavalry captain. "Well, I'm not exactly as smart as you, so forgive this humble captain and his lack of… intellectual decorum."

"Kaeya..." Jean chuckled hoarsely with her hand facepalming.

"If everyone could excuse me…" Albedo undressed and folded John's jacket, placing it on John's footside. With only socks, Albedo half-jogged out with a deadpan on his face. "I'll go back to Jean's office to get my boots, then I'll be in the workshop to transport explosives."

… Interesting dynamic. John surmised with a stone-still expression. Kaeya's a troll. The other guy… gives off a researcher vibe. Then there's Jean. If this is a common recurrence, she's not as uptight as I think if she tolerates this kind of behavior.

If he recalled right, Amber did mention that they weren't exactly aristocrats, though he's curious how exactly it diverged from his understanding (or the lack of it) of the nobility system.

"Hmm. Whatever."

"Is it just me." Kaeya paused, "Or do you usually shrug off everything like nothing?"

John scoffed, shallowly bobbing his head. "You'd be right. In hindsight, I could have been suffering in a coma as a vegetable, but that wouldn't be the craziest that happened so far."

"Ha!" Kaeya claps twice. "I'm starting to like you."

"Flattered," John said flatly, feeling a little playful, glancing at Kaeya's boob window and his fabulous blouse, then back to his eyes. "But I'm straight."

"Wha- huh?" Kaeya threw his head back roaring in laughter as others followed. "I was only appreciating your straightforwardness, but… ah never mind." He turned to the doorway. "Jean, I have an ice bridge to freeze for our messengers and skirmishers, so if you'll excuse me. John, maybe we can have a drink after this is all over? Hmm? Well, see ya!"

"So…" John hoped to break the ice. "Uhh… how are you?"

"I think we should be the ones asking that." Lisa sat beside the bed with a look of worry. "Has your memory recovered, or did your amnesia worsen?"

… Be careful. Magic exists here. She's a magician. She can do magic. She could be a walking magic lie detector. John kept silent. What would happen if people learned the truth? Millions of hypotheticals flooded his mind. He answered truthfully. "No idea. I've never had amnesia before. Besides, you people are the ones who diagnosed me."

"That's… fair." Jean cupped her chin. "Do you at least remember which country you hailed from?"

He bobbed his head from side to side. He frowned a little. If there was nowhere to hide, then he could hide in plain sight, like a soldier in a ghillie suit in the middle of the road. "Besides this city, I don't know any places in Tevyat."

"Wait. Don't tell me you can't even remember where you lived?" Lisa hoped John would deny it.

"Hmm. No. You could say it's like I never even lived in this world." John answered without answering.

"… Do you even remember anything at all?"

... Take your time. They're not being impatient, he reassured, treading for a careful answer. "… Like what? How can I recall what I don't know I have?"

"What about your past? You remember your name, at least. John Smith, isn't it? Are you a smith?"

"I… don't think my last name has any meaning." John looked at his hands and then showed them to Lisa. There was not a speck of callus. "I don't think I've been in a forge before."

She forced out a hoarse giggle. His words painted Lisa a pensive look. "Oh my, this is worse than I thought."

He felt like a ballerina dancing in a rice paddy sprinkled with anti-infantry mines while under machinegun fire.

But he kept his cool.

Like ice, melting in summer heat, but still cool.

Very cool.

It's a talent he developed living in a strict household.

Jean came up with a question, one that she braced for the worse. She recalled Amber's report; he was the only one she rescued and there was no one else in the vicinity. She breathed in, hoping for the best. Softly, she said, "John… what about your parents? Or friends? We can help you contact them."

"I..." John's stony expression showed genuine cracks. This time he was being real. "I don't think I can ever see them again."

"Oh, gods." A small gasp escaped Lisa's lips, whereas Jean took a sharp breath taking in the shock. "You poor thing."

…Honestly, with their compassion, he felt a little ashamed about "lying." But her empathy isn't completely misplaced. He just wished that everyone he knew could carry on without him.

John thought about what could change the topic. And then an idea came, he suppressed a playful smirk to keep his facade of innocence. Maybe he'll act like an idiot, or twist their words and attack their character, or improvise. Whatever works. "Yes, I am poor. I'd appreciate you do not shame my financial insecurity."

"No, I mean…" Lisa facepalmed, whereafter a short moment followed by something of a mix between a sigh and a chortle.

"Your reaction tells me I said something odd, didn't I?" John bored his eyes straight into Lisa's. "My apologies. Considering my situation, I'd say it's a miracle I can even talk the same language as you are."

"A miracle would be an understatement, but I fully concur." She nodded slowly. Very slowly. "You've got quite a unique character, don't you, sweetie?"

"Sweetie?" John faked a confused expression; it was subtle, barely raising an eyebrow by just a millimeter and tiling his head by two degrees to the left. Like a cat, he licked the back of his hand, which struck confusion among everyone. "I am salty, like… salt, which very much does not taste sweet."

"Did you literally just-" She bore her gaze on his eyes. He was really serious. She covers her mouth before she bursts out laughing. Others looked at him funny, but all were nonetheless amused.

"Of course I did. It's making me curious why you think I'm a sweetie. I don't want ants crawling all over me." John's deadpan was neither suspicious nor incriminating. But inside? He was laughing. "I can only guess you tasted me while I was asleep earlier. Did I taste sweet that time?"

If Jean was sipping tea behind her desk she would have spat on the documents.

"Wait, I- Huh?!" Lisa did her best to stifle the laughter bursting in her chest. Her composure was crumbling, and everyone was baffled by the absurdity. She shrieked, "I did not! It was an expression! Not a literal descri-"

Lisa threw her head forward and laughed a little loudly. She slapped John's shoulder as she gave a squeeze, whereas Jean facepalmed, grinning wide a mile.

"I said something strange again, didn't I? My apologies."

"You may have-" Lisa coughed like she had a fishbone stuck in her throat. "You may have lost some… common sense, but at least that can be mended in time."

"I'm not that ignorant." John frowned a little. If he pushed a little more, people would think he's some clueless idiot with social skills on the negative. "Quite a hypocrite of you, don't you think? Common sense dictates you don't just lick someone."

"I did not." Lisa's chest kept rising and falling from her sharp wheezes. Her cheeks reddened, her jaw muscles becoming sore from her unhinged smile.



A Cryo vision holder within the Knights of Favonius has an importance that cannot be overstated. Considering the city only has a single bridge connecting to the outside world, having the ability to turn water into solid grants freedom for unpredictable angles.

Kaeya could sneak groups to wherever needed across the map. He checked the platoon hidden under the veil of darkness. Their Favonian armor would've glistened under the moonlight had it shone a little brighter. Their only discernable features were their bows and swords on their silhouette as they treaded the icy bridge from the city's pier to the eastside shore.

Their goals for tonight were plenty, and they had time before sunrise. But firstly, they have to make contact and coordinate with Eula's contingent and combine power. They should have gathered info on where and when they could cut off reinforcements from adding to the main army.

"Everyone's accounted for, Cap'." Amber's peppy cheer was accompanied by the knights saluting in formation.

The last of the knights stepped off the ice bridge as it crumbled a moment later.

The distraction should start about... now. Kaeya looked at the city's dark silhouette. The archers atop the battlements released a volley of fire arrows, and the scene looked like a god threw a burst of shooting stars.


End


Edit: Feb 16, 2024 - bit of editing and rewriting


So… what do you think?

First of all

I'm so SO awkward when talking, so I'm not sure if the dialogue is cringe, out of character, or unrealistic. This chapter serves as training by forcing me to write dialogue exchanges with characters that I am familiar with. In this chapter, John Smith played himself as a clown to hide in the open by solidifying their assumption of his amnesia. And I'm not sure if I did a great job executing it.

You have no idea how many times I revisited the character voice lines to make everyone seem in character. I even go so far as to roleplay in Character AI to copy-paste their dialogues. That's how insecure I am in my dialogue writing skills.

Gosh, I need a beta reader.

Second of all

I wrote the jacket and shoe scene for a few reasons.

One is culture exchange. Originally, Kaeya didn't come to Jean's office, but that was an opportunity I could use to explore how characters from medieval times would react to the stuff that we take for granted.

Seriously, leather shoes suck for casual walking or jogging. I don't know how those Mormons can walk in those. In hindsight, this scene has greater implications if the Ordo Favonius ever decides to reverse engineer John's shoes. (Why am I even talking about this?)

(I even went so far as to inspect the character 3D models to see their shoes, study real-life shoe history, how it's made, what they're made of, what materials were in use... Gosh I'm a fucking nerd.)

The second is, that this chapter acts as a filler and a break from the last chapter.… and genuinely sometimes I wonder when and how long I should write a filler. Like, while I know it doesn't push the plot, I know it's used as a way to explore. I guess I'm afraid of wasting time writing junk.

… Yeah. I'm overthinking it.

Third of all

Sometimes I get insecure thinking that I'm not writing anything interesting. If you're a writer, mind giving me a critique in the reviews? Now, I may not reply to you directly, but I cannot overstate how much I would appreciate for… literally literarily literally anything. Lol.

Thanks for reading!