"Gabriel, you have very simple orders for today. It is going to be very easy on you. So much so that even your weak muscles can handle it" the white-haired man says, distracting me from my lunch. I wish I could get away from Henry, or that he would stop talking and do whatever he does in the camp. But alas, whenever I wish for something, the opposite always happens.
"You just need to get the tent and put it on the horse. Simple as that!" says Henry while gazing down at me with a faltering smile. The lack of gore-related vocabulary has been a rarity, a unicorn. It seems war truly always changes.
"Only that?" I reply in doubt. I'm not dumb. Whoever thinks that Henry calls people only to leave them out is a liar, a very bad liar.
"Yes, only that..." Henry begins to trail off as if energy was being sapped away from him, looking more like a husk rather than the joyful guts lover. Although, I can't say if this is only temporary or permanent.
"What?" Ok, I shall stand corrected, it seems that life isn't joking this time. Thanks, I don't need anymore jokes. If this is the beginning of this day, then I hope it stays that way. Is it too much to ask?
"Yes, the only orders are to get the tents out. No training. No corpses. No blood. Nothing." Sadness takes him over, despite his cheeky smile. The same smile that never gets away from him no matter what, as if carved into his face. In this case, the later one is more probable.
"Okay." Despite the vivacity of not having to do Henry's bloody orders, the air feels thicker than usual, the smoke coming out from where the food is prepared ceases, All around people abandon their meals, while others run towards their tents. All around people abandon their meals, others rushing towards their tents. All the while, horses and camels begin to appear, the horse driving a cart to hold supplies while the camels carry the sticks and satchels necessary to put more items on them.
And from there, people put away their tents,removing the sticks and rolling the clothes to put them in the animals. Some of them are already ready, close to the camels or sitting on one of the carts. Messianic priests pick up the symbols of their religion and put them into special containers made out from gold and silver and put them inside their cart. No item shall be left behind.
Saying that, now I realize what great peril has been stored for me today: getting the tent down and ready for transportation, and walking into those mountains yet again. What can I say, I should have expected that. Everyone should have expected that after all this time, Disappointment is still the most common thing that happens in life. We think we get away from danger, only for life to strike back and make us realize that it never had ended in the first place. So I begin to ponder, how the heck will I be able to remove the darn thing?
I stop eating and abandon my food. The crows or any other animal can eat my scraps for all I care, I still need to plan on how to remove the tent. Therefore, when making the final walk to the place where I live, I start imagining the things I shall be doing for the next hour or so.
I gaze down on the tent, looking at the makeshift structure of wood stacks making it possible to sleep without making the cloth fall down on the head. What to do is rather obvious: first, remove the tapestry. I look around until I find a spot where I can remove it without a hitch and I start rolling it. It is quite heavy like someone handed me a boulder instead of cloth, but then again my arms could be atrophied by the lack of usage.
Meanwhile, the structure remains. Only four wood stacks. It may be humble, but it served the job just right. But this is going to be a pain. After all, they are stuck in the ground. I don't know how I made them be stuck on such terrain, but there is a first time for everything. I hold onto the wood, while at the same time pulling the first one towards me.
My muscles strain while my hand burns away from the sheer pressure. The tendons on my hand begin to burn while my spine trembles. A little barb pierces my hand and in one swift move, the shock makes me fall to the ground alongside the stack. I breath in and breathe out, making my brain cool for a little bit and allowing my body to grasp some fresh air. Only three stacks remain. I sigh and continue the herculean task, taking care to avoid the terrifying barbs from stabbing my hand, the sweat only making my task more unbearable. Then again, everything has been unbearable here.
With that task done, I pile up each of the stacks. Now, how can we make it so I can transport this?
...well, I guess I'm out of ideas. So I put the tapestry and tent cloth under both of my forearms and, with my legs, let them roll with the force of my feet. This is going to take a while.
The process is anything but easy. Just another rabbit hole into itself. Even though it's funny, this is more habitual to the camp than actually fighting. It doesn't make it easier, such is the struggle of marching and having to set up the same tent, then remove it to march and so on and so forth. Besides, habits don't make things easier. If that were the case, how the heck did piano only get worse and worse the higher my level was?
Forget it. It isn't painful, it's more of an energy draining job than anything. One foot after the other blurs, the only thing making sure I'm moving is the strain on my legs that kick and walk the damn stack, the terrain static as the vegetation seems to barely change and landmarks disappear from the horizon.
Until I bump my head into one of the carts, the wood material a great and painful remedy to a lack of attention. But for now, I look around to see if anyone has noticed. No giggles or stares. Great, now what cart do I have to put it in? Dammit Henry, you could have told me that at least. Oh well, morr seconds down the hole.
"Oh, you're already here? Well, it seems that despite being hurt, your guts are doing better than in the last six months."
My mind boils as I imagine throwing my clothes on him and making Henry fall to the ground. Putting the weights away from my arms, and making him have a taste of his own medicine.
"Whatever, where is the cart?"
Henry points to an almost barren one, only with crowns and worned out books. Of course it has to be!
Henry smirks back at me. "Over there, alongside with my stuff," he replies, still trying to hide his sadness. Despite the smirk, it's an empty voice, not the cackling maniac who loves guts. I go over there, the exhaustion holding onto me, my breathing audible enough to make Henry gaze at me. I try to ignore it, arriving at the location while kicking the stacks.
I barely pay attention to it, until I see some blood tainted into one of them. Should I throw it or not? The blood, but then again the weights. In the end, I had a blanket soaked with blood in my room, is this any different? I throw both the tapestry and cloth of the tent and put the sticks over them. With my armpit breathing again, I find myself sighing in relief.
"Are we crossing the mountains?" The rhetorical question is obvious to everyone.
"No, we are crossing the city first." Henry replies, bored. As with everything else in my life so far, I can't get anything right once again.
The city remains empty, no onlookers passing by, the air serving as your only reminder we are still on earth and not in purgatory. Gangrel tries to go in a pompous manner, galloping his horse like some kind of makeshift Napoleon, a powerful leader capable of changing the entire world solely by his actions. Now the question is, is he that or only the spark to lit this world ablaze?
Reflet gazes around the city, trying to see if there is anything of interest. But alas, like my journey so far, it was all in vain. For the Vessel is anything but a mysterious entity, in the land of Naga and Grima it seems more comfortable to have the idea than the proper thing in the flesh, but such their platonic ways go. Going back to just march alongside Gangrel and Validar.
Validar smirks at every passerby in the street, not a single further thought given to them, keeping silent, marching all along. Perhaps he is praying, but even then I can't help but think, does he see them as lambs to guide or cattle to raise then slay?
When we cross the city center, I finally see any resemblance of human activity as far as anyone is concerned. The audience watches our proud march of carts, soldiers and makeshift kings, but from here out the atmosphere begins to weigh down like a prison. For their gaze, they see us for what we truly are.
Predators among the lamb, an unintended parasite rotting away from the center of Plegia towards the borders to spread its infectious and lethal ways, but so goes when violence is the end and not just the means.
When we retire from the city and allow the mountains to become the center focus of the march, the populace pours out from their homes in relief, chatting at each other, like a collective sigh. For the vermin has left with their destructive ways and allowed the place to go unscathed.
The mountains get closer and the terrain more steep and confusing, while we become shoehorned into its precipitous path, where only two people can go at the same time without falling to their deaths. I don't dare to look at my feet as that is my own death sentence, I don't need any more sweat right now. Henry is on my right while we walk behind the cart with our stuff, soldiers behind and in front of us.
In the end, we are just like Hannibal Barca crossing the alps. An army ready to destroy the enemy's nation in revenge. For the Ylissean king before Emmeryn had one objective in mind: Plegia delenda est. . It failed. And now the question in my mind is whether Plegia's destiny is becoming like Carthage. Win at first, then fall like it. Or is its fate another one? Only time and Grima will tell.
"Gabriel, don't you think this view is great to watch?" Henry asks while he looks at the abyss beneath our feet.
"Maybe," I reply, trying to focus on our path instead of the small talk.
"Just maybe? Hahaha, well you may lack strength, but I didn't think that you were also lacking in humor." Henry laughs dryly as if that wasn't the answer he wanted.
Shrugging to Henry's banter, I say, "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. iI look good on the eye for sure. But I prefer to look where I'm going right now."
He stares at me confusedly. "Huh. The first long sentence you ever said to me in a long time. Someone has changed Gabriel because this one ain't him."
Henry cackles to himself. I stand like a rock trying to comprehend why he is laughing. It's just a phrase, nothing special. So I keep my gaze in utter confusion.
"Why are you looking like that? You spoke! After all this time, you actually spoke!"
What is Henry talking about?
His maniacal laughter grates on my ears. The only reason why I don't throw him in the Abyss is that I would die trying. So I use the most powerful weapon in my arsenal. Not lethal mind you, but its power has yet to be surpassed by even an atomic bomb.
"Okay."
Henry is taken back, almost stepping down into the abyss. His grin still remains, but it seems the tips have sunk down, while he glares at me. I do an imaginary grin. Yes, I'm threatening a guy who could gut me in a few seconds, but… revenge is one of the best dishes to have right now.
"Oh, the real Gabriel is back! You and your "okays". It even seems like you two are married," Henry says while his laughter becomes annoyed, almost rolling his eyes in the process. I ignore him and focus on my path. I make a smug grin.
"Okay, Henry."
Henry hyperventilates, his head twitching while he clutches his hands, almost making a fist but holding it back with his other hand. He tries to maintain his grin, but everything else breaks down. From over here, I can sense his head boiling in anger, ready for violence.
"You don't seem to ever truly change Gabriel. I keep talking and you keep using the same okays over and over again. Are you truly incapable of changing?" Talk about hypocrisy. I guess people really don't like the taste of their own medicine. Porra, Henry!
"Maybe. I don't know, it isn't like you are much different in this aspect if you are telling the truth."
For the first time, Henry shuts up and his smile falters into a poker face. The anger dies inside him, his body barely twitching and instead of focusing his gaze back on the scenery, turning his head towards it, allowing me to only see the scalp.
"This is such a great view to watch, isn't it?" His voice trembles for a little bit.
I refocus on my path. "Perhaps, yes. "
The conversation dies to silence, leaving only the sound of our and the horses' steps amidst the mountains. The sun is still staring down at us as we go toward the next phase of the war. I sigh, there is no turning back from this mess.
A few days pass, my only memories of them are still consumed by my hazy memory lane. The only thing worth noting was Henry helping me out and putting my stuff in the area where I sleep. No favors or anything, he just approached me, put the stacks alongside me and then walked away without saying anything.
I'm still dumbfounded by it. It isn't like I'm close to Henry or anything like that. But I still find it very weird that he would just waltz to me and help me out in something not related to fighting or blood. Maybe I should thank him later. I don't like him, but it's a good idea to just thank him. After all, I still hate the process of moving the camp.
I wake up and I see Henry in front of me, gazing down at me and lowering to my level.
"What are you doing here?" I ask confused. "We are going to invade Themis right now," Henry states without hesitation."No questions, just follow me."
He walks away before I can question him further. Damn it, who had the great idea of invading this place right now?.
I slap myself to see if I can wake up a little bit more for today. It's somewhat effective, my arms and body still want to drown themselves into sleepiness, but enough that I can walk without much of a hitch.
When I get out of my tent, the sun burns my eyes. Henry ignores my subsequent reactions, only focusing on getting to the main camp. We don't exchange any words on the way and remain like rocks, only walking but never questioning. The air is heavier as I twitch clutching my own arm to solve the little problem. Dread accumulates in my system the closer we get to a banner marking the entrance of the camp.
I can't help but notice how silent the camp is. No person in sight, only their tents and nothing else. I overslept, didn't I? Why couldn't Henry let me sleep more and avoid the battle altogether? I will not be able to avoid this is that it? Damn it!
Passing the camp, I see far away troops already formed, standing in there, waiting for further orders. Mustafa is in front of the infantry, similar to a statue. Meanwhile, I gaze around and see the archers and dark fliers, a commander in front of each. I wonder who the person that shall command us is.
it isn't long until I can see a white-haired lady, who turns to us as we approach. She doesn't smile, only nodding when Henry and I arrive. "Thanks for bringing him up, Henry. Now you two, go to your positions." She orders without any emotion, ignoring me.
That leaves me to focus on getting in formation, ignoring some stares. Especially that of a raven dark mage that, when I stare back at it, turns empty, making me wonder, does she hate me as much as I do her? Another question down in the rabbit hole.
"We are now all reunited. The battle has come, there is no escape right now. Only through victory, we shall prove to everyone my- Grima's power to Naga's lackeys. We are going to show what they have done to me, to us. Themis shall fall and they will know the taste of their own war."
Ylisse will pay, I can guarantee that. The Exalt and her words of peace are but a lie. Just because she promised us that she wouldn't wage any war, it doesn't mean she is not willing to. She is the child of that demon, and like father like daughter. For that, we can't renounce our revenge."
"This revenge is the purest part. Just like when Grima died with his body, we remained steadfast to recover until now, when you can rely on me to do what this world deserves. Likewise, this is not only a battle to eliminate Ylisse but to restore Plegia to its most natural form, that of an empire to obey. We shall not bow towards these pathetic creatures. We are going to show to the world what Plegia is capable of!''
The crowds explode into cheers, while I remain silent. There is no turning back, truly. The dread of the battle is coming right now and I can't ignore it. For this crowd, this is what the people of Ylisse deserve: to be killed in the most brutal manner. Tharja also keeps silent, not smiling at the speech, while Henry has a grin.
We start marching. With the prelude of the battle done, what do we have except the first movement toward the cacophony of the symphony of war?
Well, that was quite bad. I will be honest with you, this chapter only exists to serve as a bridge between the events of the last chapter and the next one. Otherwise, this chapter would be scrapped. So feel free to criticize it, this chapter deserves it.
Well, beyond this, I want to spell out some new developments. I will not have a regular schedule from now on. You might ask why? Very simple, University is draining my time and my sanity, making me really stressed. As such, I wasn't capable of writing any words in several days either because I was so tired or because I had to study.
So I decide that enough is enough and this fic is going to enter an irregular schedule. Why an irregular schedule and not a hiatus? I plan to publish chapters and not stop them altogether. Well, The good news is next month I'm going to drop the chapter I have been most excited about to write: Battle of Themis. I have worked hard on it and I hope that my hard work translates to a good chapter for you all to read.
Anyways, If you want to exchange ideas with me or other more wonderful people you here is the code: 9XG3U7a
Special thanks to Cavik for beta reading the chapter and thanks to everyone that read this fic.
Crowbars357: Perhaps? I don't know m8. I would rather say he using the jeitinho brasileiro in Plegia. In other words, it would be more like this: "Since I'm Grima/ Reflet's 'friend' then I don't need to deal with grimleal shenanigans, then I can convince her to stop this mess.
But well, You can say he is trying to "seduce" Reflet. So yeah GabrielxReflet/Grima wen?
2010SI: Well, don't worry, you can try to read the fic as kafkaesque comedy/ black comedy and it would work. Especially on Reflet's side and even joked with my beta: "if it was her POV it would be a comedy scene".
About What Gabriel forgot: Welp, I had the same thing even though I knew what she was saying when I wrote the chapter. Well, don't worry too much, reflet will remember this action for us.
Ascandor: Glad to know you are enjoying the story! Well about the Doubts, there is no future reality in this fic, in other words, there is no lucina or Grima. So yeah, you're right, that is an AU version of Reflet/Grima. Although it's up to you to decide if that is Grima or Reflet or something else entirely. Yeah, I can say that Reflet/Grima sees him as a friend, I presume. I don't really know. About Gabriel's past, wait and see.