It's isn't possible, isn't it? Robin would never belong to them, right, right?! Didn't her mother take her to Ylisse, or my memories are confusing me !? This isn't supposed to happen, none of this is supposed to happen, what to make of my plans right now!? Something has to be done, something!
This isn't real. None of this is real, it is just a trick of the mind, trying to seed of discord in my mind, like many other times, of course, it's an illusion, right, a fucked up dream, the typical one I'm having for a while, I will wake up as other, and my plans will stay the same, and I will be back home in no time, right, right!?
Of course, I overanalyzed as typical of me, an idiot, one who can barely hold back even for single fucking moment, instead of seeing as it is, your mind must think is Grima playing some trick, deceiving, preparing for his return, isn't, isn't it!?
Why isn't the world crumbling, distorting or boiling, this is a nightmare, so why the world stays the same, why isn't changing, please, change. I want to get out, please I want to get out here, I don't care what Grima does or not, please just leave me alone, and shut up, every one of this fucking people who are cheering for this hell.
I look at the faces of people around me, they aren't blurry, I look at the dome, they aren't blurry. Nothing is blurry for god's sake! For the final time, I pinch myself to confirm if this is reality. I feel the dull pain and confirm to my horror, yes this was reality and there is nothing to escape, nothing! I want this to be a dream, I need this to be a dream, but of course, reality doesn't bulge and I'm stuck in this hell.
Tharja is standing beside me, becoming one with the crowd. Despite her not muttering a single word, there is this smile, one which she never sported, with an intensity of a bright sun on a warm day. This doesn't feel right at all, This is completely wrong, how is this even possible ?! How?! How could this person smile at this horror! HOW ?! I
I stop gazing at her and I start to see my surroundings again, more notably, to watch the reaction of the upper echelon and to my dismay. All of them are impressed, Ibrahim, my former boss, or my rather temporary boss is having the time of his life, compared to this fuckin idiot here. A subtle smirk marking his face, relaxed eyebrows that were relieved, to say he was pleased would be an understatement, the guy is screaming with joy, just composing himself to nobody pay attention to it. The monster, who beforehand put in this damned place in the first place, I hate you!
Their sounds stab and perforate, each sound destroying my legs getting more and more squishy over time, barely capable of holding themselves while the worlds turn around so much, their dizzying sounds invade my mind.
I look at the palms of my hands, they tremble as the cacophony increases, the sounds of reality, and fiction blend. I put my hands in my ears, as I try to stop the incoming noises. I grab my head with all the forces I can muster, the head being pressure between two forces, eyes closing and scratches being made along its base, in its futile attempt to stop it, to stop this hell!
I hate all of this, everything up to this point was sticking to plan, an event happening like in the game. In no time, I would get out of this madness, and escape to the shepherds or a saner leadership this time, instead of listening to the ramblings of a mad genocidal maniac, or go anonymous and try to figure out myself a way back home or at least live in peace! But no, none of had to this happen, of course, it would be a way too easy, of course not, it would have to be the worst option possible.
And to finalize this agonizing portrait stood at the center of attention, Robin, who now belongs to the Grimleal, a sickening smile grazed her face, a victorious grin towards a future that shall not be stopped, the true end of the time as we know it. Her perceptive red eyes were filled with an unthirsty joy while drinking the essence of the atmosphere of glory in this hateful place.
It was not only for delight she is using her for, at every movement of ours she perceives as if we're standing right in front of her. Judging us if we're worthy or not, eyebrows, and the almost robotic way her head moved, going left to right, in motion to see the emotion of the general public, and what possible use we can have, no doubt, this is the end for me!
Cacete, I am stuck, aren't I? I am not going home anytime soon, any chance of escape is minimal at best, fuck, fuck, fuck. Why it had to be me, of all people, there is no plan, I fucking hate of all this. I can feel my veins boiling over, their sound spreading through the entire brain, face contorting to a scrawl and saliva getting out of my darn mouth! Oh boy, I have to get out here before this meltdown becomes public knowledge.
My body only moves without any care, my leg going from zero to one hundred, I stumble with people along the way without care. Struggling and grabbing people to get out of this hell. I cannot afford a meltdown, not right now! Not when everybody is here, and a single slip could kill me! the air getting more and more denser and unbreathable, the suffocating breath of the people stumble only getting worse at every step, I could kill if I cared enough, I have to get out of here now!
As I get out of the massive Crowd, I realize a painful gaze. I turn my head while going to the corridor and my eyes meet with her's. What a painful experience it is. There is always something weird when unknown eyes watch you from afar, especially when they hide something and quietly judge, and you have nothing, but to look at the ground to alienate the pain.
In her eyes, there is this air of judgment, like a judge passing the final sentence to the poor defendant. Pity is also there, sadly looking at me, as the little dying animal that I am, but also there something so cold, so analytical, trying to see all my weakness and succeeding at it, unlike her many peers. I don't like this gaze, I don't like any of this, please stop doing that, it only hurts, I beg please be merciful, just stop the gaze!
I don't care anymore, I turn my head back and a run through the corridor, the sound reverberating the entire hallways as guards looking at me, at their maddening eyes. The guards, walls, and everything single this thing on this damned world blurs. Making this an incomprehensible place, where fiction and reality meet, suffocating everyone that participates in this godforsaken existence!
I arrive in my room, a splitting headache makes it hold, one capable of my skull being opened apart. In the end, there is a lovely combination of drowsiness and stupid shame. I slam the door and lock until I could do no more. Forcing the lock, until I am certain, nobody in this world can enter, even with dark magic.
I fall to my knee, the rage inside slowly dying, succumbing even. Until the recent memory floods my mind and I lose control again. Why, why couldn't I control this fuckign part of me again ?! You had one simple task, yet you failed, you fucking idiot you don't know even how to control yourself, how to plan the escape, Filho da puta, do think people will saving your fuckin ass, you are special enough for that. Now you are just a mentally ill bastard that somehow survived, in other words, you are fucking nothing, but a fucking waste of breathable air in this fucking world!
The fist clenches, a punch soon followed at my skull, plak, the sounds reverberate, as more and more come and feelings arrive, the more frequent they come, plak plak plak, the sickening sound goes to mock, the bluntness hurt and everything hurts, until the final and the most intense come, and there is only pain. PLAK PLAK Plak PLak. saliva is vomited out my body, the throat gets dry, eyes cry and the only thing left is nothing.
The barrage is stopped, the aftermath is followed with a dull sensation of pain, slowly residing, quickly being left to be forgotten. But the shame fills the rest of my episode, more painful than a thousand knives in the back, more powerful than any of these punches combined and terrible as a sword stuck in the guts.
The only thoughts in my mind left, is of this shame, the feeling of lifting bare in the world, to be mocked at, to feel powerless. To feel an effort amounts to nothing. And realize that even the best of things and in the end to be left with your good old friend shame.
This shame wasn't any of this. but worst of it all. To see the loss of self-control, that is the worst kind of shame anyone can have, the one you can't avoid no matter what. One so ingrained so deep, that if you lost it, it wouldn't be yourself anymore. But another person, something you can never be.
With the pitiful strength left. I crawl towards my bed, the flesh and clothing grinding together, to fall to the only space where I can feel some kind of comfort and be warm for the night. I hide in the green mattress.
There was nothing left in my thoughts but static. The feeling of being a prisoner in your own skull and being left nothing to do. Only capable of seeing the dark, and being nothing. Sleep comes and I forget the existence of this world.
A migraine wakes me up, another dreamless night like many others. My body and mind exhausted, without any energy to make even the simplest of tasks, the mattress comforts me, with the silky texture easing a little bit of my tiredness.
I don't want to get up off my bed, I want this world to disappear and be stuck in this comfort. But sooner or later, I have to face reality, so to make this any more painful than it already is. I start stretching my arm, little by little energy comes back, and what seemed an insurmountable task of getting up, feels more like a difficult task, my legs reaccustoming with the hard ground.
Picking up a candle, I put some fire and lit up the torches encrusted in the walls, Making the room visible now. putting into the desk, I go to my mirror and do a daily check-up, the bags are still the same as ever.
I get to my bag sitting beside the desk and I open it. Revealing the contents inside: my phones, my books, and the clothes I had when I was suddenly teleported, The only memories from back home. Gripping my phone, the same old black mirror gazes at me, the memory of simple time flooding into me, the countless times I wasted listening to music or reading some PDFs. I wished I had to pick up some anima magic to have it back. If I get back, oh boy, It will be album jam time, Some Charles Mingus never hurts, also listening to some good old swans will be a godsend. Well, I got a little bit ahead of myself, still have to get the darn thing working.
Putting the phone back on the bag, I reach out for books. They are in a dreadful state of the organization, big in between two small ones, small one between big ones, books inside books quite literally, and books of other languages randomly put with no sense of language being respected.
I grab the stash and put above the desk, against the tomes and dark magic theory. Their modern covers with colorful images and imaginative font juxtaposing with more laconic and reserved covers of the plegian books. A smell from when I used to live back home comes, an alkaline smell gracing and covering this little dungeon of mine. How much I've missed them.
I begin to organize them into the order of thickness and page quantity, putting every type with their type. It has been a long time since I organized my stuff now. I glance at my small work, now the desk is much better organized, It looks clean now.
I wonder which I will pick up to read first. Should I start the door stoppers again? With their massive, sprawling worlds and larger than life characters, like Zhivago, Raskolnikov, Riobaldo, and many others? Or goes with the smaller ones with a more laid back approach, but just as emotionally dense as the others, poets just like Baudelaire and Leminski, and writers, as Camus and company. Options, what I don't lack is options.
Before grabbing any of the books, my hand catches the other one. Man, get a hold of yourself, there are a lot of things to be done before I can read. We still have to damage control, and besides, I am very thirsty.
I pick up the bottle of water and approach to my dry mouth, the coldness of the material shocking my lips, but Instead of being graced with the refreshing liquid, an empty air comes. Oh no, there is no water left, I should have bought it days ago. I wonder if I am that stupid really.
Besides the inconvenient fact, another arrives, my stomach cries like the little annoying brat he is. I forgot to eat dinner yesterday, oh well… Oh no, I have to go out to the wilderness and face the people of the court again, what a pain in the butt it is, oh well if it has to be done, let just end the drama as quickly as possible, right, right?
Before I go out, I grab each one of my books and put them back in the bag. As much as I like the organized table, I cannot afford people prying into private matters, and besides time is ticking, and I don't think I cannot afford any more time right now.
I open the door.
People walk and loudly discuss the biggest revelation of yesterday, The so-called vessel appeared and not even day, and a big fuss is being made. Walking along a corridor, a bunch of priests, imans, or whatever you want to call it, decide it is a good idea to make a theological debate over the matter.
"You see, the soul of Grima needs someone powerful to hold it, despite their many mistakes over the years, we finally found the perfect vessel.", boastfully says the man, while another one just looks at him furious at such a claim.
"When it was said they found the perfect vessel !? You Messianic idiot, don't you remember twenty years ago, when the previous Messiah, Helid, told everyone he was the so-called vessel, and look at it, our holy theocracy was basically destroyed, and that is not even mentioning Makino, that idiot!", The orthodox man retorts. Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the flame wars of Plegia, orthodox vs messianic.
Goddammit, all I wanted is a silent morning, and that is ruined, well, at least nobody is paying attention to me.
And the discussion keeps going on and on. My fears of the center of attention were not well funded after all I guess, still, I do not ease, they kept screaming at each other, while us poor viewers, have to watch two old men fighting with each other. Thankfully, I arrive at the dining halls and don't need to hear two people screaming at each one.
Doesn't mistake me, the hall is as loud as ever, with the intellectuals and dark mage banter with themselves, and the whole debate of what happened. But compared to before, the place is serene. I pick up some meat and vegetables, not caring how the combinations of flavor are. Nothing really what I consider fancy, just another thing to fill the stomach. In all honesty, I just want to get out here as soon as possible and go back to my room.
With the plate set, I go on my quest to find Tharja or an empty seat with no one nearby. Walking along the lines, seeing many elaborate plate wares of me and my "compatriots", I keep asking myself, how the heck they made so many of this? Only to remember poetry exists in this world. I find Tharja munching on her meal, I wonder how her mood is…
I sit, she doesn't eye my presence, nor does grunt as she always does, with a remarkable indifference, I sit facing her and going on to eat the daily breakfast. She is happy, there is no sign of hostile, only the daily peace of going on a meal with the beautiful sound of peaceful silence
We chew our meal. Only glances are made here and there, just another meal as always. Not worrying, I go on to "swallow the plate" as both Tharja and mother said. I finish the meal before her as normal. I tap my fingers on the table while playing some old music I remember, doing some rhythmic variation and setting up another story in the head. Waiting for my "master" while she finishes her meal, just another etiquette to memorize.
When she finishes, I get up and go to the daily task of returning the plate before my master, a sign of non-education I always forget. " Wait for a moment.", she commands, I stop and go on to sit back again on the chair, her tone voice higher than usual and lacking the acidic content she often spats.
"Awful happy, today," I reply monotone, "Awful calm, to someone who had again an episode.", she strikes back, in a clear tone of mockery, more playful than anything serious. "Anyways, what do you want? Remember today is not my time with you." I remind her," Do you want me to remove any of your memories?" Here we go again…
"Nope, I don't like it when people try to mesh with my memories" please, just state your intentions. She gazes at me, questioning my lack of desire to remove any bad memories, I just ignore her.
"Also, There some ingredients I need for the next hex I will make" I can make what is next
"Tell me then." I talk while holding against my desire of making a sight, it will be a long day ahead, isn't it.
"The eye of a camel, the intestine of a frog and the scale of a lizard, any will do," she states the simple list, nothing really unusual, some rather basics ingredients, but because of their extensive use, they run out as fast as an alcoholic with booze on his hand.
"Also do not try to buy anything with coins I give to you" Guess I will have to do with my own coins instead, Oh well, might as well pick my personal purse along the way.
Despite this unusual order, I just go along with it, maybe she is getting something to present Robin or something, or doesn't want me to buy personal stuff with her money. Either of the two is equally probable, just hope she doesn't try to be a "normal" person again, that was really creepy.
We go to her room, the shadowing room greeting me again with the smell of hex she was trying to make. That's why she wanted me to buy ingredients, why you don't buy the ingredients yourself! All I wanted was to read my books in peace, well at least I can have the excuse to buy now.
I await her, she picks up a bag of the coin and gives to me, her hands unsteady and trembling, betraying the stoic face of her looking sideways trying to avoid eye contact from me. I must have embarrassed her somewhat with my rather uncontrolled display, I do not blame her. Gabriel, why you fuck up everything that you do?
I went immediately to my task and picked up a horse from Mustafa. To be honest, I am really surprised why he would give a horse to me, while I could easily get one from the stables. Still, I am thankful nonetheless, I doubt I have the patience to debate my reason to get a horse. He just saw me, and upon seeing the list upon my hand, he promptly gave me a horse.
Thinking about it, now it makes sense why his soldiers are so loyal to him, how they wouldn't like to work with someone who clearly likes them. Still, I have my doubts about him, its Plegia we are talking about, not utopia. Maybe he wants to gain favor with me, or he just was that friendly, either way, I don't know.
Anyways, Have to feed that though for the latter. Right now, I have a task to complete. A small note I wrote with the ingredients to buy and my need to buy water. Getting thunder can be later. Sorry, phone, I still want to use ya, just wait a little bit more.
While I ramble, The air breezes to me, the pleasant breeze coming over. Outside the castle, in the outskirts, where the skeleton of the Grima lies, a giant desert that grows nothing stands. Only kilometers, and kilometers of pure sand and some animals and plants could stand such an environment.
The dunes stretch through the scenery, forming waves of sand, while the opulent sun stings the infertile soil. I am the "only" one who walks in these lands, minutes after minutes of intangible land and lack of people.
To the few times, I have to walk on a horse, there something really stupid that always goes to my mind, I feel like I am cowboy, going alone in the vast deep wild west. A drifter, alone in his thoughts, wanting to get by and without a care in the world.
Or a Cangaceiro, going walking into the badlands, that was the caatinga. Well, without all the killing or banditry and a companion or group of people to follow with me. And I am literate, and not poor at neither society where I lived. But you got the gist of it, it is so peaceful here, and there only me, the ambient and the crazy stories I tell for myself.
The dunes become less and less frequent, their wavy forming being transformed into a flat ground, where the footsteps of peoples and animals carved into the hot sand, the signals of civilization becoming apparent by the minute. The hot dry air gains a spicy smoke quality to it, the result of the many spices the caravans bring. Talking about caravans, camels and their owners appear, their backs filled with the supply, and their owners with clothing to fight the enemy they call home.
Little by little, a city emerges, A little black dot against the blue cloudless blue horizon. The smell of water and soil mix, the river of the city meandering against the arid vale where its foundations laid, four massive dunes encircling the round shape of the city, the green-colored crops contrasting with the white and yellow sand.
A palace sits in the middle of the place, its most notable feature is the dome, with the golden color with purple touch painting the dome, the reflection highlighting its importance, if there is any problem I have here, this is the place I go through. The whole construction is made to tell one exact thing, you are nothing compared to the Grimleal, you are merely an ant, who solely functions to serve Grima… oops, I got a little bit dark here.
As I go, straddling with the horse to do my task more people appear, besides the usual caravans traveling around the desert. Some adventurous nobles with luxurious clothing, their silk clothing trying to garner some attention and buy something interesting to them, servants from the same palace I serve, going back and forth doing the duty to their accompanying lords and the last group which I belong, the servants of noble who decided to be way too lazy today and not come in person to buy their stuff.
As I walk by, one thing comes to my mind: I wonder how the other city of the other countries looks, would the capital of Halidom be as big as people often say? Despite the rotund city's palace, it wasn't as gigantic as people said, don't get me wrong, for a medieval city in the middle of the desert is rather big, but not compared to where I live. I guess, living a modern life spoiled me for a little bit. I doubt I will get the opportunity to see Ylisse after all this, but I don't know.
Anyways, I start entering the perimeter of the town, the peasants doing their menial jobs while under the scorching sun, and the enormous caravans and merchants doing trade exchange, some decide to sell their stuff before the walls, where guards stand and guard the place.
I can finally smell where all the spice in the air was, Star anise, nutmeg, paprika, and many others. One thing to note, none of them are from Plegia, they are from other places. Namely Valm and the other countries, all of these products can be traced to one merchant republic. One where some inhabitants are here right now, with their ill-suited clothing with their hats, culottes, and coats, standing beside the fellow counterpart. Of course, I am talking about the only one, Genezia, a republic of merchant subservient to the theocracy.
Some sources I found say they were conquered one hundred years ago, others say they belonged to plegia by the "mythical right", either way, what matters is they Bring products and that is it. Also, I can see some foreigners like me, Ylissian, Feroxi, Rosenneian, Cho'sinese, Valmese, and the list go on and on.
Some appear with their typical clothes, maintain their tradition in some sense, Ylissian praying for Naga, The cho'sinese walking with kimono-like clothing, etc. Despite being at the heart of the Grimeal, storytellers, and people of other religions often come here. One looks for knowledge, others for better lives, and others for curiosity. I am especially fond of the old Rosennian storyteller, it's fun to see there are still "french" people, sadly I don't have the time to waste with him.
The mass influx of people entering the walls is no joke, crowds upon crowds pile up with themselves, the guards inspecting to see if there is anything out of the place. Thankfully, the walls aren't that hard to pass through, and my impression is apparently wrong. I walk through the gates easily, I hope today isn't full.
Upon entering the city proper and before starting my habitual search for the specialized shop. The streets are full, to my utter dismay. Sound of children playing, merchants screaming at the top of their lungs, announcing prices and their product is the best, hordes of people swell into one giant mass confined into the corridors created by the houses, forgoing space for shadows, the best fighter against the scorching sun in the middle of the desert.
As I walk by, I experience my greatest displeasure, besides crowds, in general. Streets cross with one another, the vendor putting the stands in the middle of the street, making less space for walking. Buildings often look the same, with almost no sign of landmarks, beside one or other indication made by written words into the wall made by shops to attract their client. This is the Commercial area, and everything is "fine". Doesn't help the guy I want to find loves to put his shop in other places for some odd reason.
Sadly, I haven't mastered the script of Plegia yet. Despite their natural beauty, I can only be desperate when I encounter them anywhere besides a book. It would be fine if there was some standardized form, Where I can be certain when a letter begins and the other end. But no, that would be way too hard, instead what everyone single person in this unholy theocracy decides is to put their hardest calligraphy, In other words, to draw a dragon and mark of Grima with their symbol.
Man, I think my best hope right now is to find a way, to the administrative center, that one with the dome, and use it as some point of reference where to go next, the last time I had to buy stuff from him, he was located in the center, hope the guy stay the same place as before, I cannot take anymore more of his swapping locations.
And as always, things don't go as I like planned. The more I go into the depths of this foul place called capital, the more labyrinthine this place becomes. I kid you not, I think I have entered 20 long streets, I wonder how the heck Tharja and other people can walk this as if it was Sunday afternoon in their homes.
This would be a very easy problem to be solved if of course, I had the guts to talk with these people. I often go looking for the person, and when I am ready to speak, there is a tug in my heart, my mind goes overblown and words and possible reactions of disgust come to it and I stop, go the other direction and I stubbornly try to find the place in the hardest way possible. I promise to myself, I will find a way to make google maps, I don't know-how, but I will do it.
The more I think about it, why do I complain about this place so much? I didn't go here, and I never slept or lived here for a fraction of the time. The only action I do is to buy stuff and this is it, so what makes me hate this place so much. To be honest, I don't even know, I was raised in a very big city, so I am accustomed to these hateful sounds. hell, I didn't even go to the slums in my stay here! maybe is the jealousy of actually being in a familiar place, and stuck with people you love or care, or is cultural?
Yet, I still have to formulate a new plan. Where to go next? I remember the children going to other dimensions somehow. But this even applies here? where we have a Loyal Grimleal Robin, and culture so distinct from the original, it makes me wonder is anything from awakening real or not, up to this point, everything seems to be happening as the games said; Gangrel's obsession, Tharja in the plegian side, and bam, there is this thing never happened anywhere else in the games, hell her mother let her live in Ylisse for christ's sake.
But this is not even comparing right now, I have this gut feeling some noble is out there looking for my head. It's only been seven months since that the noble died, and I still am afraid my relations with the Fatimids didn't sway any opinion about me, there is always a fine line between I don't care and care.
And I wonder, where to go next, if I survive and the world doesn't end, what nation would accept me? I'm nobody, going to Ferox will reward me with a cold winter, where a creature like me is accustomed to the constant sun of this place, and I would be obliged to relearn a new language from scratch, and another culture, that would way too much.
Or go Valm, and go to fight another war, that will be even bloodier than this one, and realize, there are only two countries I know its existence, and maybe even more that I don't have any idea what it looks like. Also, I will be fighting a war that is completely unrelated to my objectives. And besides, the Outrealm gate is not there.
I look around the streets. Huh, did this city have many soldiers? Is not like this place wasn't filled with the army before. Did the conscription arrive here yet? if so… huh, there is no other way around it, isn't it? Huh, must be imagination or the road to war is going way faster than imagi...
Gabriel, Gabriel, stopping rambling so much, you still didn't buy the items and the days are passing and he will not be waiting for you any time soon, we still have to buy water or else die from dehydration. There are still a lot of things to be done, and we don't want to arrive later or… Nah, Having a roof to sleep that I don't need to pay is a godsend.
I wasted my entire time walking and yet I still didn't arrive where I wanted. You know what, let's return and search for the whole place again. If I don't find I will buy my water and go back, I don't care if I have to face Tharja's wrath… wait maybe she cut my protection… and I am not that heartless to not do as the others ask… okay, this will not end soon.
I go to the gates, the same old busy situation. Readying myself up to finally find the shop, if I have to waste my entire afternoon doing this, then shall be it. I go and turn my head and I read Ingredients and tomes etched into a wall to form a book and cauldron… You are saying I wasted time, energy, commitment, and patience to encounter the shop's new location to be right next to the gate … I hate my life.
The shop inside is very dark, there is a lack of windows, only two or three torch lights the entire place. It is very cold, the mist encompassing the small shops, the floor made of rough rock, like my room. There are only two shelves, one filled with very common ingredients and another one with basic tomes of dark magics, your fluxes, miasma, etc. The more advanced of tomes and rare ingredients being on the backdoor, standing in front of it, the owner and vendor, Khalid.
Khalid ibn Ummayad, the youngest son of the dead previous patriarch of his family. Despite this, he is, at least, in his thirties. A smile plasters his face as if he was awaiting me to come way along, behind the friendly smile of an inexperienced merchant, a dark secret hides. Sadly, I don't know if this is like this or just a façade. His gigantic beard comes to the length of his shoulder, while he hides his hair into a white turban.
He would be an enemy of mine if his circumstances were a little bit different. Our clans being at the throat of each other, the tales I received from "magician wars" are the stuff of horrors, from I could gather from the only source I had, there was human sacrifice, the almost destruction of two/thirds of plegia and some more stuff Tharja never told me. When I tried to look for some other sources, there was none.
Despite all this animosity between families. The times I had come here, he was very friendly, Tharja, and he had the utmost respect for each. Either way, I don't think I will be able to discover this any time soon. One of my hypotheses is because as a merchant of a very niche audience, he doesn't want to kill his clientele. If you know anything about economics, it's easier to get money from the living than from the dead.
Another I have, he isn't affiliated with his family at all, despite his blood relation. If this is the case, why would he get out of clan relations… Stop thinking, we need to get items, after this, you can do the "investigation".
I start to speak with the man in question"Hello, I need these items in question", showing him the list with the items" I see," He goes and picks up the item, putting them in a bag, and gives it to me.
"anything else?" He asks "no" and I reply while giving him the money from Tharja's bag. With the bag, I go to my merry to get ou…
" Sorry, for interrupting you." Here we go again.. " you are the boy that is always with Tharja?", " yes, I am." I dully reply, please just let me go, " I didn't think it was you, you actually speak now... with a lot of accent, but it is way better than last time. You didn't even speak a single word, I thought you were mute this whole time" he speaks with a surprised face.
"Hum, can I go out now ?" he smiles and his eyebrows sink, no way, is he pouting? he coughs and says " it doesn't seem the apple has fallen that far from the tree." ok, I go out, the few things I hear from him are: " The air here has lost its splendor, maybe it is time to change" and " Huh, never thought the Fatimids would use a foreigner servant, it seems times are really changing." after this, it getting water time.
Anna, Anna, Anna, I am both glad and scared of your family. I wonder how her parents had so many versions of these same people, of course, with some difference in setting or something else. But I'm also scared to think this is possible, just how her mother gave birth to lookalikes with differences being the hair color, were they merchants or something like that? Did they raise them exactly the same way and everyone became a copy of each other? Or they copied their personality unto them? They were always obsessed with money or they learned it? I will never know. I leave this mystery to the geneticists, theoretical physicists, philosophers, and annacists, they will know better than me.
Well at least, I know there isn't any kind of poison or some kind of trick with her. If there is an item you want, you will get it. She wants the money, she will get it. And both sides get along just fine, no trickery, just get the thing and get out of there. And also I love buying from her, for the simple fact, the only conversation being " you got the money ?"
So that's why, I go to her shop, wait a little bit, she comes with the items, I ask for the water, she replies with: "you got the money? and that is supposed to be it, but just when I got my water and as I am about to get out of there and go somewhere to sit just a little bit. The dark-haired Anna comes and asks: " looking for something new ?" she says with a sly smile engraved in her face" " No, I am about to get out," I respond as dry as sand in the desert
" There this Lil thunder tome, you might be a little interested" When they got the capabilities of reading minds. Must I buy it or not? Well, my mind saying yes, my wallet says no. Let's see my purse, wait a moment. Oh, 30 coins, there is only enough for one, but not enough to buy both, thunder I can get it later.
"How much is the price ?" I ask the infamous merchant," 30 coins" she replies, so I give the simplest answer possible: "No" and I get out of there and ignore the sound of an annoyed greedy merchant, and go to my life. Looking up at the sky, the sun is setting. I wasted my entire day by now, might as well rest a little bit, and walk around the place, until I found a place with a fountain and some small benches and sit. I rest for a bit, what a tiring day it was. I didn't have any time to read my stuff, write, draw, just do some menial work for the boss.
I look at my poor purse, there are still 30 coins left. It leaves me to have enough money to buy at least three weeks' worth of water, if I, of course, ration it. Which would be otherwise a big nono for me, if it wasn't for the fact water here is the most valuable commodity, one such I cannot waste, even If I wanted to.
The sun is setting down like any other day, the last rays giving orange tint to the place, the color of old melancholics. Soon the night will come and I still yet to return to my safehouse, so I do the usual checking to know if I missed anything. Let's see. Did I get a bottle of water? Check. The ingredients are here and in the usual quantities? Check. My purse was still with me and nobody pickpocketed me, while I was resting.
How many times did I have, where I rested somewhere different from the room? I go back to memories, looking at every single little corner of my mind, hoping to find an answer. Maybe, after all, I had some happiness here, at least… I hope.
Sadly, I don't remember, since going here, I don't think I had the time for my own thoughts, despite writing, I miss the piano I had. The many times I tried to play Bach and my hands had given up. I seriously miss the white and blacks keys. I remember my teacher saying that was a prodigy on the piano, is that true? I doubt it is, but I don't think I will never have the true answer.
Musicians play with their instrument, cheerful, as if nothing was happening, stuck in a little world, body, and sound mixing into each other. Funny, I remember picking up the piano to being alone, to not stick in the other people. Don't remember exactly, but I think a friend invited me to play with him, way back home. I refused, We never thought this was going to happen, I should have played with him… let's just not think way too much about next time.
I get up and go to the gates, the crowds starting to smaller and smaller, the cacophony getting quieter, while merchants remove their stands and commerce lock for the day. People go to their homes, do their daily prayer, while the richest go to the most luxurious brothel. Little lamps and candles are being lit, while I return to the gate.
I pick up the horse and lead him to the outside, caravans stop selling at the end of the afternoon, wrap their things, while some pick up their tents to sleep. The next day awaits, and a new opportunity of getting money Emerge. The farmers go out of their plantations, going to their little house, and relax for the rest of the night with their families and the rowdiest of them, going to bars to drink away from life responsibilities. The night has arrived.
While this happens, I ready the horse, loading the goods within the seal, and mount on him to start the journey back to the palace, if everything happens as supposed to happen, it will be a very calm ride, with me, the horse, the sand and starred night with the moon shining as intensely as the sun in the warm day of summer. me and my thought, the greatest threat to a day like this.
Along the journey, intrusive thoughts again attack me at every moment of rest, but times I can't but want to feed them. As much as I want to rest and never go back to this mess, there is a lot of planning to be done. Is the orthodox version of Grima right? Is he a force of good as they say or is the messianic's version right, as Awakening told us? Time will tell.
I also have no doubts, the war will be a one-sided massacre, the most important variable firmly on the plegiai side, it makes it rather obvious to anyone who will win in this foregone conclusion. But at the same time, you never know the future, and maybe, just maybe, Ylisse will win. Heck, this will be one-sided, isn't it? I wish Chrom good luck, he will be biting bullets, when the time comes.
And alas, the Sandy palace is getting bigger and bigger against the horizon. In a few minutes, I will come and return the horse and give the ingredients. Nothing, but a good night of sleep will solve, maybe this time I will get a good dream for once.
it will be a dream when I get my liberty and just get out of here and find my way back home, despite losing an entire year, finally getting a taste of just being safe is going to feel better than any meal the King eats daily. I cannot wait to just sit in a bed and just use my phones seeing small insignificant things when this happens a will savor to the last bit.
Anyways, I see a man of Mustafa and give to him, sometime later, a letter will suffice. But for now, there is the last thing to do, just give the darn things and end this drama, once for all, just this night, tomorrow you will have to prepare just as usual.
I left the bottle of water in my room, I checked things up to see if anyone had messed up somehow… the bags were in place… and nobody seemed to enter, why there is phew, this place is just as it was this morning. Until I see a glowing mark, a small rectangular insignia, saying may you have found peace.
I immediately go and bang the door, to see if she is there. At this point, the hallways are empty, the grand majority going for dinner or the library to see something, leaving me in these creep solitary hallways. The saffron doesn't make it any better.
I hear her steps, feet drag against the stones, the air thickens, sighs follow with it, I can hear breath from a mile away. There is no subtlety in any of the actions, only the bluntness. Sobs come along, to finally reveal a lady even paler than ghost along. With unsteady eyes, incapable of having attention to anything.
To them, with all the force she can muster, she lifts her head. Our eyes met, mine tainted with the marks of many sleepless nights and hers still with tears and tainted black. what the hell happened to her, to become like that.
She must have seen a ghost, her eyes wide open, and her mouth dropping a scowl to a surprise. I say nothing and give her back the list and the things back for the store. There wasn't any need for words. Another mutual agreement has been made, we will never talk about this with us or anyone else. Her face threatening to cry again, I just leave her alone, she needs to be alone.
I return to the dungeon, welcoming back with his usual rustic appeal, I would love to plop down and just sleep. But pick up a small piece of paper I have left from the many other nights I wrote. Just start to write how the days have been, nothing really special, but a good medication for a troubled mind. Once that has been made, I go to my bed and fall as rock into the comfy green blanket. I wonder what tomorrow brings, will it be peaceful or not?
This was the rewrite of the second chapter of Detachment. Nobody edited for me this time, so there will be no credits, and probably there is a lot of sloppy grammar in there, sorry. I hope you liked this chapter, it isn't very good, but I am very thankful to everyone who decided to follow this mess. I hope at the end of this month I can finish the third chapter. See ya
Also, I participate in this discord server: discord .gg/9XG3U7a feel free to join