Note: Thanks for being patient! Life has been busy, as usual, but I'll try and get this fic updated more often. Originally I was going to post one long chapter for chapter 20, but after the 10,000 word mark, I realized I needed to break it into two. Hopefully the direct continuation of this chapter's events will be posted sooner rather than later. Of course, I want to write for Three Houses, as well, but I swore that this fic would be finished, and by the Universe, I'll finish it! Thanks for being patient with me, again, and enjoy this next (lengthy) installment of Lethality! Thanks again for the support, I love you all.
It was a Monday morning.
Henry woke up early, for once, and he donned his usual outfit and equipped his favorite spells before heading out. Even as the sun was barely coming up from beyond the horizon, many of the Shepherds were up and running. Cordelia and Cherche were placed in charge of restocking the armory, and Henry waved at the two of them as he passed by their tent. They smiled back at him, wearily so, but widely nonetheless.
He smiled even wider.
There were morning patrols to be had, as well, and from the looks of it, Frederick assigned Miriel and Stahl to take the first watch. Henry saw them disappear beyond the camp's boundaries, Miriel's pointy hat bobbing at an even pace and Stahl with his arms thrown behind his back. Then there was Sumia, dashing to and fro like a headless chicken, before she eventually bumped into Lon'qu who had to point her in the right direction. Finally, Henry noticed Olivia and Panne off to the side, chattering away as they sat around last night's fire pit, extinguished and cold.
These were all familiar sights to Henry. Of course, the location changed each time (as fate would have it, by the time Henry finally got used to the new camp site, the Shepherds up and transported themselves to another location in a much more loftier area—but he didn't whine because he would rather leave behind those ugly memories than stick with them) but the setup was almost always the same.
This time around, however, Henry and Gaius got tents on the opposite sides of camp, so it took quite a bit of walking to get near where the other was. Henry didn't mind it so much, though, because the world certainly looked different this morning more than it did on any other morning.
He didn't even need to wonder why. He knew why.
Just as Henry reached out to part the tent flaps, they flew open wildly, and he bumped right into Gaius himself. The two of them stumbled backward, naturally taken aback by the minor collision, and Gaius laughed it off before saying: "Well, morning to you, too, Junior. You're up early today."
"Yup!" He agreed. "I got bored so I came to see you." There was something odd stirring within Henry, now, something he couldn't quite place. After a moment of thinking it through, however, he realized what it was.
He wanted Gaius to call him by his true name. There was something endearing and memorable about the assassin's little nicknames he had made for everyone, but whenever he addressed him as Henry instead of Junior, Henry's entire body felt warm. It was like he was gently being set aflame, and he never knew an act so intimate before.
He wanted to feel it again, but he wasn't about to admit something so obstinately childish to Gaius in the first place. So even though he bit on his tongue, the urge never left him otherwise. "Got any plans?"
"Well, unless Bubbles or someone's got a mission for me, I'm pretty much free today." Gaius said. "I'm guessing you're the same?"
Henry's smile widened to greater, obvious lengths. "Yeah! Okay, let's do something, then. You've been practicing archery, right? I've always wondered what flies faster on a windy day—arrows or lightning bolts! Let's go see!"
The prospect of it all wasn't nearly as exciting as Henry made it out to be, but Gaius figured that time spent with Henry was better than none at all. He quickly agreed to it, and the two of them set out for the nearby shooting range, in order to test out which of the two objects in question would truly fly the fastest on a windy day.
Just as they were about to leave the camp, however, they were stopped by Robin. "Hold on, you two," they said. "Let me talk to you for a moment."
"What's up, Bubbles?"
"What can I do for ya, Boss?"
Robin stopped in their tracks, and their dark eyes blinked once—twice—before they spoke up again. "Well, firstly, I'm glad to see that you're on speaking terms, again."
"Oh yeah!" Henry piped up. "I totally forgot that we used to hate each other's guts, hehe! It's been kinda weird, honestly, but everything's water under the bridge now."
Gaius stared at Henry—he hadn't heard the Plegian say that phrase before, and vaguely wondered if he picked it up from him along the way—then said: "Uh, yeah, well...I kinda got tired of being sore about near damn everything. So we worked things out a few days ago, heh."
"Glad to hear it," they cheered. "Ah, sorry, that's not what I even wanted to talk to you two about, anyway, but knowing that you have a better standing with each other will make this next part easier."
The two of them fell silent, and Robin took that as initiative to resume speaking. "I'm assigning you both on a special mission. Well, it won't be just the two of you, but it's something that needs doing, and something that needs both of you in particular."
Henry picked at a stray thread (how are there so many of them? he distantly thought) on his arm, while Gaius coughed into his fist. "Well, we won't mess up like last time, if that's what you mean to say—"
"Oh, it's not that." They reassured, waving their hands back and forth whilst doing so. "This isn't like last time. If anything, things should go over smoothly. And I'm not sending you alone, either. You'll be accompanied by Lon'qu, Tharja, and Libra, as well."
"Are we going undercover?" Henry asked hopefully. "A super secret mission? Stealing away into the enemy's nest like the cutie crows we are?"
"With that lot? There's no way," Gaius insisted. "I mean, Mister Super Swordsman Lon'qu? Sure. Sunshine and Padre, though, they're a different story."
"No, not espionage or anything of that sort," Robin said. "It's a rather strange mission, if I'm being honest. An escort mission, if you will. There's this merchant that we've been working with for a while now, and he wants us to be his convoy in transporting him from the nearby village to across the Plegian border. He has family there, but because of recent troubles, it's been difficult to traverse." Robin sighed quietly, then smiled with a defeated look—something that implied I tried to get out of it but couldn't. "And he's already paid the Shepherds in advance, so I wanted to get on it as soon as possible."
"Ooh, a road trip!" Henry cooed. "I've always wanted to go on one! Well, since joining the Shepherds, almost every other week is like a road trip, but this is different." He paused in mid-twirl, with the trailing edge of his cape whipping around his legs and obscuring his bottom half unintentionally. He corrected this in one swift, fluid motion, before asking: "Why us, though?"
"I was about to ask the same thing," Gaius cut in. "I've got no objections, by the way. Just curious."
"That's perfectly fine. There's a reason I asked you two to do this, and a reason that Lon'qu, Tharja, and Libra were asked to do this, as well." They sighed again, this time their smile coming up as slightly less pitiful. "The merchant in question is a really strange man. He demanded to see our roster, and he went through each soldier with great detail. He's sketchy and hesitant to trust people. He crossed off the likes of Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick within seconds. He also dislikes knights, so of course, people like Sumia, Kellam, and Sully were forgotten, too."
"Jeez," Gaius muttered. "No wonder this guy had to come to us for help. With an attitude like that, it's hard to believe that anyone would try and stick their necks out for him."
"He paid us the big bucks, so we gotta help him, huh?" Henry laughed softly. "Money talks the best, I guess~"
"It does, unfortunately. But that's not the worst part. He's a highly religious man, somehow, so he asked for Libra in particular, after hearing about how devout he was. And because he's going to Plegia, I enlisted Tharja's help along with yours, Henry. Then there's Lon'qu and Gaius—"
"Does he want guys with dashing good looks?"
Robin scoffed. "I won't answer that with seriousness. But oddly enough, he said that you and Lon'qu both bore resemblance to two of his sons. I asked about his family, and he got sad. Turns out that both of them were enlisted in the Plegian army, and they were killed on their first assignment." Their nose scrunched up, and there was something sour forming in the darkness of their eyes. Henry and Gaius felt a bitter taste in the back of their throats just from witnessing something so unsavory.
This couldn't be good, whatever it was.
Robin solidified the dreadful thoughts in their minds.
"Don't look so sad. I read into it, and they were killed long before any of us joined the Shepherds."
"Then—"
"You'll just have to humor him," Robin said, defeated. "Once he sees how you're probably nothing like his late sons, he'll realize his own delusions. In fact, he might even try to send you off. Stay nearby if you can; don't let him get under your skin. You and Lon'qu are also there for the attack power if it's needed, although I hope that won't be the case."
"That's a lot to unpack," Henry noted. "But I don't mind! So, when's the road trip? I've got some money saved up, so maybe I could buy some souvenirs!"
"Henry—"
"Or I could just loot the dead bodies of anyone that crosses us. Either way works."
"We're not doing any of that," Gaius muttered. "We're going to Plegia. Do you really need a souvenir from your home country?"
Henry was quiet for a bit, before he shook his head fervently and laughed. "Silly Honeybuns! Just because I was born there doesn't mean I know everything about it!" The words I want to buy something to remember our first road trip together died on his tongue, so thankfully, he spared himself the humiliation of voicing such a smitten thought.
The warmth flooded up to his face, still. Luckily, Gaius turned his attention to Robin in that split second, so he didn't have the chance to see such an embarrassing (and red) sight. "Alright, I think I get the gist of it now. Escort some weirdo across the Plegian border in one piece, yeah? With the five of us, that's no big deal. Are we leaving today?"
"Yes, after lunch. The merchant's in the next village over. He's waiting in the inn. His name is Tarun, but I wouldn't worry about picking him out from a crowd. He'll stand out, that's for sure."
"Okay," Gaius said. "Then, I'll get my stuff ready." He turned to Henry, and shot him a tiny smirk. "Let's meet up in a few, alright?"
"You got it!" Henry saluted him with a big smile, almost losing his balance as he hopped from one foot to another. "I'll get my things, too! Oh, should I bring my cursing kit? I've got leftover bones and shriveled weeds that can—"
"Please don't curse our client," Robin warned. "I know he paid us in advance, but I'd really like to get him to his destination safely. I'm counting on you all of you." Their serious face finally broke down, and they shone a smile so happy and bright, Gaius and Henry felt refreshed just by seeing it. "Good luck, you two. I'll see you when you get back!"
"See you then," Gaius agreed. He turned on his heels and retreated back into his tent. Robin waved at the closing tent flaps as they appeared behind Gaius' fleeting figure.
They turned around, and watched as Henry dashed in the opposite direction. "Bye, Robin!" Henry shouted over his shoulders. "Don't get killed in battle before I get back!"
He was a white-and-purple blur in the distance when Robin, standing on their tiptoes, shouted into the morning air for everyone to hear.
"I won't!"
.
.
"I must admit, this is a rather strange request made of us five," Libra said. He picked up his trusty silver ax, and readjusted the sparkling mend staff that hung at his waist. "Although, if this is Naga's will—and Robin's will, as they'd have it—then so be it."
"You think this is strange," Tharja sneered, "then try being chased around by giant spiders and dragons, for once."
"Hmm, I suppose you have a point there," Libra muttered quietly. "Very well, I'll count myself lucky that this isn't as difficult as what you've been through at that time. Although," he eyed her figure up and down—an innocuous action in and of itself, but Tharja simply rolled her eyes at the typicality of it, all while smothering the flustered feelings within her—as he said, "now that you're a sorcerer, you'll make quick work of a giant spider at this point."
"You're right about that. I've also been working on a new curse. And if that man is as insufferable as my darling Robin says he is, well, I know just how to deal with him."
"So long as you don't kill him before we cross the border," Lon'qu insisted. He stayed silent up to this point, with his sharp blade sheathed at his side, and his swordmaster robes neatly pressed and hung over his lithe body. "Then whatever you do afterward is of little consequence. As silly of a mission this is, it's still a mission. Therefore I will carry out my part until I'm no longer needed."
"Are you trying to bore me to death with your pleasantries?" Tharja groaned. "Save it for someone that cares. I'll curse him if it pleases me, and that's all there is to it. Nothing more, and nothing less."
"Well said, my dearly unpleasant Tharja!"
She groaned again, but no amount of wasted breath could prevent the inevitable: Henry arrived on the scene, and he was as chipper as he was insufferable, because he still dared to flash that ugly smile of his at any moment possible.
Of course, she was genuinely glad to see him, but like hell she'd tell him that.
So instead, Tharja rolled her eyes. "Finally. We've been waiting for you and Gaius for what seems to be an eternity by now. What took you so long?"
"Got in a mix-up with Twinkles, is all," Gaius said. "Let's get going, then."
They set out on the dirt roads that lead them straight out of camp, and right into the welcoming square of the nearest village. It was a familiar sight, because they were here just a week ago, scaring off a mob of Risen from terrorizing the townspeople. Everything from the milkweed patches and oaken fence posts—all the way to the cobblestone street (not streets because they ran out of cobblestone after furnishing the main pathway completely, so the rest was just dirt) and iron street lights—was the same as it had been before, and it would remain for countless days afterward, too.
What sets this village apart from others like it, however, was the large and shockingly quality inn that was situated in the middle of town. Named "Five-Petal Spring N' Sleep," it was built from finely cut stone and wood, with red and blue flowers growing in pots everywhere, and acres of grassland that made for a good play area, or a relaxation getaway. They even had a hot springs setup in the back! Henry hadn't soaked in them yet, but he heard great things from Ricken and Nowi, so his interest was piqued as soon as they had the locale in their sights.
Lon'qu pushed the doors open, and at once, all five of them understood what Robin meant when they said that they could tell which one was Merchant Tarun in an instant.
"Where are those Gods-forsaken Shepherds? I told that strategist of theirs that they were to be here at 5 o'clock sharp!" A man's voice boomed throughout the lobby, earning him numerous stares and annoyed murmurs from the other residents.
The poor clerk at the front seemed scared for their life. First day on the job, or so it would seem. "Well, sir, i-it's actually five right now, uh, and so—"
"Incorrect yet again!" he shouted, and rolled up his silky blue sleeves all the way up to his elbow, revealing an expensive, golden wristwatch. "This here says that it's five hours and one minute. The Shepherds are one minute late and that means one less minute I could be spending with my beloved family! How could they—"
"Hey, if you could quit your yelling, then maybe the folks at Ylisstol could get some sleep, too!" Gaius barked. "We're here already."
The clerk visibly sighed in relief, while the merchant—Tarun, they knew his name to be—swiveled on his heels. He was clearly a merchant and not a fighter, if his expensive clothes and overly-well kept hair were any indication. But one look at his face said everything they needed to know.
He somehow looked a lot like a man that could be a father to Gaius. He had a very similar shade of light orange hair, and deep hazel eyes that were etched into a still-handsome face. If it weren't for the occasional wrinkles, blood-red rubies hanging on his neck and arms, and the grey hairs sticking out from the orange, then no one could tell that he wasn't directly related to Gaius.
Luckily he wasn't, but the minor resemblance was uncanny, and Tharja and Henry tried their hardest to suppress their laughter.
Which is to say, they didn't try to hold back at all, as a high-pitched chorus of giggles and guffaws floated into the air. And Gaius, all the while, did his best to bury the annoyance that wanted to rise to the surface like untamed fire.
Libra sighed deeply, yet remained quietly situated in the back of the group, while Lon'qu walked forward and stood at Gaius' side, as if doing so would make them seem more cohesive and threatening, somehow. The two swordsmen stared at each other for a good moment, before they turned their gazes to the new enemy—masked as ally—before them.
"So, you must be Tarun."
"Yes, that's me. You're Lon'qu," he said, pointing blatantly in the swordmaster's face. "And you, with the bad attitude, you must be Gaius." He pointed at Gaius, this time, although his countenance wasn't entirely unpleasant, despite the sourness of his voice just then.
No one said anything, but they all inwardly agreed that it was Gaius' striking resemblance to Tarun's late son that softened the blow somewhat.
They were all so glad when he moved on from him and continued to recognize the Shepherds by their names and faces. "Tharja, yes?"
"Yes," she muttered. "That's me."
"And you're Libra. And finally, you're Henry." He jabbed a finger at the white-haired Plegian, and sneered. "Just so it can be known, I didn't want you to come along, but your blasted tactician said you were indispensable, so I guess I'll have to live with that."
"Actually, Robin is a grandmaster," Henry corrected. Normally, his cheery disposition and sardonic comments would annoy people like Lon'qu, Tharja, Libra, and Gaius (although Gaius clearly saw him in a better light since their reconciliation, so that didn't quite count). But at a time like this—and in front of a person like this—they let go of their personal feelings, and were quite grateful for Henry's brashness.
They wouldn't be able to laugh as easily, otherwise.
Yet they did, and hearing their mixed giggles, snorts, and snickers were like music to Henry's (still ringing) ears. His smile stretched widely, while Tarun rolled his eyes and affixed his decorative sleeves. "Very well, make a mockery of me, why don't you? I've no time to waste, however. We're heading to Plegia at once! I've prepared a cart to carry my things, and if there's still space, then you can set aside your possessions, as well." After saying his piece, Tarun suddenly seemed tired, and strode past all of them with a quickened step, slamming the doors to the inn wide open as he did so.
He shocked the woman about to open the doors from the opposite side, but he didn't care as he walked right past her, and urged for the Shepherds to follow him.
They hated the thought of listening to or accompanying someone like him, but they sucked it up, and hurried to keep his pace.
Libra apologized to the woman that Tarun so carelessly bumped into. She took one look at his chiseled face, and quietly insisted that it wasn't a problem. He looked relieved, but still gave her a sympathetic glance in turn.
She watched as he—alongside the other four Shepherds of varying talents and different backgrounds—ran off in the distance, to chase after a man who was as bitter and unsociable as he was rich, only so they could deliver him to a place of death and deserts, all so he could see his beloved family once more.
And, ever so thankfully, it was quiet after that.
.
.
The cart was a large one, pushed by two horses and directed by another rider, who sat at the front of the wagon and steered the cart as it moved. Inside were various boxes, containers, and shelves of goods. But as Tarun promised, there was space to place some of their belongings in there. Gaius heaved up his large, burlap sack and pushed it into a corner, while Tharja set aside a messenger bag she packed with her, tiny herbs sticking out of the front pockets. Libra didn't have much with him, but he did lay down one of his extra staves in there. Lon'qu followed suit and kicked up a heavy traveler's bag. No one could guess what it was filled with, but if it belonged to Lon'qu, then it most likely contained no-nonsense essentials needed for a journey like theirs.
Henry didn't give up anything to the cart, but he was the first to hitch a ride as he climbed inside, and sat on top of one of the low cabinets, so the top of his head skimmed the canvassed roof, and his feet dangled in front of him. Tharja followed suit, and went as far as she could, before she found a particularly comfortable sack of silk and other fabrics—laying across it like it was a cushion, instead. Lon'qu sat at the rear of the wagon, where his feet hung over the edge and where he faced the road as it disappeared behind them. Libra sat next to him in the same way, and started up idle chatter about their mission.
Gaius paused for exactly twelve seconds before he decided that the box next to Henry's low cabinet was the best place to sit for the duration of this little "car trip." So he sauntered over and sat cross-legged on top of the firm surface. Then he glanced up at Henry—who was elevated above him only by a few inches—with something bright in his eyes.
Henry stared back, and his smile was dazzling, but there was something about the way that he leaned back on his hands, or the way that he kicked up his feet up into the air, or the way that he laughed as the cart began to slowly start moving that was different than usual.
It was light and easy, like a crisp breeze on a spring day. It was familiar and fun, and Gaius couldn't help but smile, either. It was everything and it was nothing, yet it couldn't be both because there was certainly something buzzing in Gaius' chest. And if he knew Henry like he thought he knew him, then there was something buzzing in Henry's chest, too.
They silently sat next to each other as the ride began, with Tarun sitting next to his coachman in the front of the wagon and barking at the Shepherds about something trivial, until his voice steadily grew quieter at his own admission. And soon enough, there was nothing too troubling in the world at all. Libra's quiet words, Lon'qu's short replies. Tharja's scoffs and light snores. Gaius' smile and Henry's sly movements.
It was another moment where everything seemed perfect, and if they wanted to, Henry and Gaius could have maintained that peace for the longest time.
"Are you excited?" Henry asked offhandedly. He meant to say I'm so excited to spend some time with you.
"Sure," Gaius said. He really wanted to say Me too.
"Hmm~ I find that hard to believe! But I guess I'll just see for myself." I'll show you an even greater sight, in that case!
"Okay, we'll see about that." I'm ready for it.
"Oh, I know we will." I'm ready, too.
I'm ready, too.
.
.
The initial part of the escort mission went by smoothly. The Shepherds sat in Tarun's carriage for a few hours before the first break began. The cart pulled off to the side, and the coachman—who they later learned was a tall, dark, and reticent man named Earnest—took the horses to drink and rest, before starting up again.
All the while, the five Shepherds sat on the wayside, equipped and armed to the teeth, but lacking any real reason in doing so. Because so far, their travels had been nothing but luscious countryside and autumnal weather. The crisp breeze accompanied by lingering summer warmth, the falling leaves alongside the green grass and golden wheat—all of it made for a nearly perfect, perfectly picturesque scene, and for the longest time, the Shepherds had been deprived of such peace.
It was almost tedious, in actuality. Even though Robin said that they were there just in case things got ugly, each of them secretly wished that there were some Risen or bandits along the way, since it meant that they could do something more interesting than watching the world go by them. Libra and Lon'qu's small talk was just that—small, indiscriminate, unimportant—as it didn't last more than an hour, and the only reason Libra stretched it for that long was because he felt guilty for starting the conversation in the first place. Tharja awoke after two hours of napping, but was disgruntled with their true lack of progress, so she started complaining about anything and everything if it meant keeping her wits in check.
Only Henry and Gaius were entertained, and that was easier said than done. Of course, they sorted out the ugliness between them that lasted for quite some time—all the nonsense that spurred from Henry's decision to effectively numb himself, all the fighting that came from Gaius' refusal to have Henry do such a thing—and their relationship was all the better for it. Yet there were still things in the world that couldn't be remedied by heart-to-hearts, or daring escapades that held their precious lives in the balance.
And one of those things could stand the test of time, and outlast humans, manaketes, and taguels alike.
That "thing" was none other than pleasantries, platitudes, or the more commonly known: small talk.
It was strange for the two of them, because they seldom chatted away about nothing in particular. Most of their conversations up to this point were fights, disagreements, shouts, or debates on odd things. They had many confessionals, heart-to-hearts, admissions and secrets, too. They had a lot of things said between them.
But not very many of those things had been small talk, and so when a quietly awkward air arose between the whole group, there was no choice but to try and make it.
There was no choice but to try and talk about things that didn't matter, simply for the sake of talking, and nothing else.
Henry started it first, once they all took a break from the journey to rest on the side of the road. "Honeybuns," he said. "Do you like autumn?"
"Sure," Gaius replied. "I like all the seasons. Fruits change for the better, and sweets vary depending on the time of year. It's all good fun."
"When's your birthday?" Henry asked. He clearly didn't even care for the answers to these questions; he only wanted to hear a voice respond in demand of his own. "Mine's November 13th."
"2nd of January." He inspected his fingernails and gloves, and picked off the stray bits of dirt he found in each. "Yours is coming up, actually."
"Is it? It's hard to keep track of time," Henry admitted. He hummed, and rested his chin in his hands as he thought about it. "Guess how old I'm turning."
"Eleven."
Silence.
"I'm kidding. You're actually turning twelve, aren't you?"
"Wow. That's not funny at all."
"Ouch. Okay, I give. How old are you really turning?"
"Older than eighteen, younger than thirty! Does that answer it?"
"Why'd you ask me to guess how old you're turning if you're not gonna tell me the answer?"
"How old are you turning next year?"
"That's classified information, Junior."
"Are you like Nowi?"
"Nah, I'm not secretly a thousand years old."
"Gregor?"
"I'm seriously offended if you think I look the same age as him."
"Basilio and Flavia?"
A pause.
"Gaius?"
"How old are the Khans, anyway?"
"Khan Basilio turned thirty-one last month," Lon'qu piped up from his place several feet away. "Or so he likes to make me believe."
"Thirty-one? Basilio?" Tharja scoffed. "Do you believe everything that man says?"
"I have full faith in him," Lon'qu insisted. "But I am not following him blindly. Of course I have some reservation in what he does and in some of the things he says. Any man worth his blade should do the same thing."
"Age is irrelevant in the art of war," Libra murmured. "Young, old, in-between...all lives are affected by the tragedy. We should do our best to lessen some of it in the world, wherever it may exist."
"Ha, you think I don't know that?" Tharja quipped. "Why else would I be part of this Gods-forsaken trip otherwise?"
"You'd walk into an active volcano if Bubbles asked you to," Gaius teased. "You wouldn't be here just 'cause some old coot wanted you to be."
She huffed, crossing and uncrossing her legs before answering. "Even if you're not necessarily wrong, I won't say much else. I feel myself losing the capacity to think when I talk to you."
"Love you too, Sunshine."
"Hey, you lot!"
The five of them turned around, only to see Tarun steaming from his ears. He marched over with some full-fledged confidence, and glared down at them as if they were children, rather than the trained soldiers they were. "I didn't pay your precious army to have you loitering around like milkmaids! Get back on the wagon. We'll reach our first real stop in another hour."
"Okay!" Henry shouted as he jumped to his feet. He spoke before anyone else could complain in some way or another, which was a saving grace on his end. "Let's go, everyone!"
Soon enough, the five of them were up and running again, loading themselves back onto the wagon in tandem with the refreshed horses.
Henry sat in the same spot as last, but this time he feigned sleepiness, and in doing so, Gaius sat elsewhere—next to Tharja, despite all her whining from earlier—so as to give him the space needed to sleep properly.
Of course, it was feigned for a reason. And as Henry curled up on the surface of his cabinet, he thought to himself, realizing quite fervently that he wasn't pretending to be sleepy for the sake of pretending itself.
He really didn't want to talk to Gaius or sit next to him for a while. It wasn't like last time, where he outright avoided the other, and evaded his well-placed concern for as long as he could (until he reached his breaking point and couldn't escape him any longer). It wasn't like the times before that, either, where he actually disliked Gaius and didn't appreciate seeing him around as often as he did. No, this time, Henry surely knew that he did like Gaius. In fact, he really liked him. The amount of exactly how much he liked him was probably a lot, too.
And it was because of this like, of this feeling, that Henry felt bad. Despite being the clever little jokester he was, there were quite a few things done "jokingly" that always confused him.
Whenever people said "I might just die" or "I'd rather die" he would respond with a "Maybe you will!" or "Me too." Once, Ricken told him that it was raining cats and dogs outside, and Henry had to look out the window to see such a phenomena for himself. Later, he was told that "raining cats and dogs" was an expression, and not to be taken seriously. Despite smiling throughout the entire exchange, he was sorely disappointed that neither dogs nor cats were involved in the rainy day weather.
When Gaius told Tharja that he "loved her too," it was just too much for Henry's heart to take. There were swirling sensations in his stomach, again, similar to the sickness he felt from the intake of certain drugs—similar to the burns he'd felt from continuous use of fire magic, black magic, any magic that dared to sap his life away. There were atrocities and worries stirring within him, but the worst of them came from the way that Gaius said those words, said "Love you too, Sunshine," that rubbed Henry the wrong way.
Was that an expression, too? Was he lying, too? Even if he did love Tharja (because she was pretty, deadly, and scarily brilliant, to boot), was Henry in any position to judge him for it? After all they had been through, Gaius deserved to find love in this hopeless world. He deserved a break from the weary every day that became their every day. If it meant that the relief came in the form of a vicious Plegian woman, who was Henry to decide if that was wrong or not?
Yet, even with this reform sweltering inside of him, he felt uneasy. It didn't take magic or science to know that it was because Henry didn't like the idea of Gaius loving other people. In fact, he preferred Gaius being distant towards others if it meant he got to be closer to him, instead. Although that resolve was just as shaky, because Henry's chest ached dully at the thought of Gaius being trapped in this tedium. His whole body shook at the thought of Gaius, stuck in one place and never to move or love or live again.
The thoughts swirled in his head like a potion, a mad mix of things that didn't do anything except light up his skin and turn his brain to mush. He could feel it now, the mush. He could feel the hot touch of blood and skin against his own—his own body betraying him and his newly felt feelings. Gaius was a person, so he was free to love and hate as he pleased.
Henry didn't understand how much he wanted to be loved by Gaius until recently, though. And it hurt almost as badly as when he was hated by Gaius, instead.
But if one day, Henry could say "I love you, Gaius" and Gaius could reply with "Love you too, Henry," then he wouldn't mind if it took Tharja, Libra, Lon'qu, Robin, or anyone else to get there.
If one day, Henry could be the ultimatum in Gaius' life, then all the in between stuff wouldn't matter, and he'd deny the stubbornness his past self had, and relish in a happy ending.
Although, that was a harsh if, because if there was anything that Henry was sure about, it was that people like him didn't deserve happy endings. People as dark, misguided, ugly, and imperfect as him weren't deserving of a good life.
Or at least, that's what he thought up until now.
Yet as Henry thought about Gaius—and as he inevitably lifted his head up to glance in the other's direction after some time passed—he couldn't help but want selfishly to himself, wishing that one day, he and Gaius would get a happy ending.
Even as their cart stumbled over potholes, and even as Tharja complained as often as she cursed, Henry held onto that little wish, and pressed the feeling of warmth and acceptance close to his chest.
Close to his heart.
.
.
The next few hours passed languidly. They took another break further down the road, where they stopped for a light lunch (which consisted of Feroxi ration bars, courtesy of one stoic swordmaster). Then, they continued down the trails, where low mountains could be seen in the distance, and the flat plains slowly came to curve up in hills and plateaus.
It was here, at the crest of the hill, that things were no longer languid.
Just as Tharja was about to give a witty reply to Gaius' teasing, their conversation was rudely interrupted by a hollow thunk sound, followed by a mist of splintering wood behind them. The two of them glanced to see a thin, white arrow embedded in the framework of the caravan. That was all it took for them to spring out of their standby modes, and jump into action.
Henry followed suit, and carefully hopped over the different crates and bundles as he glanced out of the back of the wagon, and held onto the side of the vehicle for support. He leaned forward on his one foot, and inspected the damage from his viewpoint.
Trailing behind their cart was a speedy, dark carriage, pulled by ebony-black horses with a masked coachman leading them on. The carriage itself had no roof, and instead, three or four archers were seen hanging out the windows and clinging on the side, bowstrings taut with white arrows. There were also a few sword fighters, who wore maniacal smiles and heaved large burlap sacks behind their shoulders. One good look at them was the only thing needed to understand the situation entirely.
Bandits. And they appeared to be experienced ones, too. This definitely wasn't their first incident chasing after merchant carts, and if the Shepherds weren't careful, it wouldn't be their last, either. Nonetheless, it didn't matter how or where the bandits got there. All that mattered was that they were there. They saw the contents of Tarun's convoy from a distance, and wanted in on the gold, textiles, furniture, and valuables that could be seen from miles away. It was a risk they were willing to take, and they didn't seem keen on backing down anytime soon.
Henry grinned.
These poor bastards have no idea who they're messing with.
"What the hell is going on there?!" Tarun shouted from the front. "Is there someone chasing us?"
"Shut up and stay down!" Lon'qu yelled. "It's bandits, but we'll handle this. Just keep us straight and steady on the road!"
"I don't take orders from you!" Tarun defied. "Earnest! Keep us right and ready on the road! Let the Shepherds do what they're supposed to do!" Despite all bitterness, Tarun eventually obeyed, and became exceedingly silent after that bout. Henry and the others were all relieved, but they knew that the merchant was equally determined to make sure they'd all come out of this safely.
When their path veered less than it did before, Lon'qu rushed forth, and leapt from Tarun's wagon to the enemy's vehicle. Henry watched as Lon'qu soared in the air, a graceful blur of blues and blacks. The enemy's coachman visibly frowned, and clutched the reins as he tried to order the horses to steer off the side, in an attempt to throw Lon'qu off balance.
For a few seconds, they steered to the left, but the vehicle was rectified in a movement so sudden, it threw two of the archers off their balance—causing them to stumble. A silver arrow, slender and deadly, whizzed through the air and missed the bandits' driver by a few hairs. Henry looked in the direction of the arrow, and smiled when he saw Gaius: standing just a few arms' length away from him, bow drawn, and eyes narrowed in a laser focus.
Even though Gaius missed his target, he succeeded in the sense that Lon'qu was able to mount the enemy's carriage, thrusting his sword into the floor of the vehicle in order to steady himself. Then, without missing a beat, Lon'qu drew his sword, and began attacking the bandits. The two non-archer thieves drew their own swords, and the sound of one metal blade slamming down against two was shrill and high, reverberating throughout the highway like a human scream.
Libra took this moment in time to throw one of his hand axes in the air, and in a calculated arc, the weapon lodged itself in the right shoulder of one of the archers, who roared in pain. They staggered backward, yelped pathetically, and fell off the carriage—just barely missing the helpful hand of one of their compatriots.
The fallen archer's body became a silhouette in the roadside background as the high-speed "car" chase continued, and one of the other archers glared at Libra. "You'll pay for that!" They loaded another white arrow, drew the bowstring, and open-fired.
The arrow was misdirected by a flurry of wind, as Tharja stepped forward with a flourish—a page of Arcwind falling out of her tome simultaneously. She leaned against one of the heavier cabinets for support as she flipped to another page, and summoned more wind to attack. It barreled into a vortex, and shot straight at the archers, like a magical arrow of her own. However, they were quicker to react this time, and ducked into the carriage as the wind screeched in a powerful frenzy above them, skimming the tops of their heads but leaving them virtually unscathed.
"Damn you," Tharja hissed. "Let's see you evade this one." She switched her Arcwind for something darker, although Henry could recognize a Waste tome anywhere. She glowed with a golden and purple aura, and raised her hands in a powerful sweep, transferring the cloying darkness to the enemy. Her target was one of the two thieves, and she laughed wickedly as he fell to his knees, and begged for mercy as the shadows crept over him. He choked on seemingly nothing, and in a panicked haze, he dropped his sword, fell off the cart, and tumbled into the road.
Dead.
This enraged the other bandits, and Henry could see their newfound determination grow, as one of their allies fell for good. Lon'qu was the only Shepherd in reach, so they turned on him in an instant.
He glimpsed over his shoulder, and looked to his comrades with a silent confirmation in his eyes. Even though nothing was verbally said, they understood at once what he meant to do.
Trust me.
Lon'qu almost smirked as he dodged an incoming attack from the remaining thief, while the arrows fired from the other archers sang past his body in missed hits—his body moved too quickly and too lithely for them to get their weapons in edgewise. They were no match for a swordmaster like him.
But just because he was experienced, didn't mean he was invincible. Libra and the others realized this as they continued to help in their own ways. Libra took another hand ax at his disposal, and hurled it at the bandits. This time, it landed on the legs of the enemy driver, who hollered in agony. Before he could get any relief, however, Gaius fired another silver arrow, which stuck one of the offending archers in the eye. They screamed, too, and fell to their knees as they scrambled to pick out the shaft one way or another.
Then, Tharja sent a blast of fire in their direction, a page from Arcfire slipping out of her hands as the blaze set one of the horses on fire, and it neighed pitifully as it tripped over its own self.
The rest unfolded easily. With the enemy carriage downed, Lon'qu made a final slash—which finished off the other thief he squared up against, as the bandit's body slumped over itself in defeat—before he turned around, and leapt back onto Tarun's carriage. Libra reached out to grasp his hand and steady Lon'qu as he unevenly planted himself on the rear of the carriage, but once he was righted he gave the war monk a righteous slap on the back. Gaius withdrew from his sniping point, and Tharja joined the others, as well.
Henry, who was merely watching the display with piqued interest up until now, decided to put the cherry on top. He stood apart from the others, and opened an Arcthunder tome. He smiled widely as the book floated in midair, and his whole body shimmered quietly with a buzz of energy and electricity. Then, he pointed his index finger at the tumbling cart and the badly injured (and partly dead) bandits within it. He giggled loudly, childishly, righteously, as his taunts filled the air.
"Have some death!"
The electricity turned into lightning and sparked out from him, giant streams of yellow light flashing through in zig-zagged lines. The spell hit the carriage square in the center, and within seconds, the entire thing exploded, with splintered wood, blood spatter, and static electricity in all.
Tarun's carriage pulled through while the bandits' carriage didn't, increasing the distance between them and what remained of their enemies. While it was gruesome, cruel, and harsh to leave those people behind like that, they had to continue their mission. The fate of those bandits were decided ahead of time, and there was no rectifying what was essential a slaughter on the Shepherds' end. It wouldn't do them good to have senseless violence and death on their hands, but theirs was a time of war, and anyone who wronged them had to pay in one way or another.
"You did it! You blasted Shepherds actually did it!" Tarun cried out from his place at the front of the cart. His voice was louder than usual, and the others suspected he was out of his seat, nearly jumping for joy. "Good work! We'll be reaching the border soon, so hold on tight!"
Henry sighed happily, and collapsed onto the ground in a cross-legged formation. His Arcthunder tome laid at his side, and he was soon joined by Gaius. He heard Tharja grumble as she made her way back to her favorite napping spot, and Libra and Lon'qu struck up a newly energized conversation, talking about the battle waged just now.
The sorcerer felt like there was a small current of energy running through him, still. He didn't know if it was from the residual effects of Arcthunder, or because of Gaius' fingers, which barely skimmed his own as he sat close to Henry's side.
He grinned, nonetheless.
"Nice work out there," Gaius complemented. "You didn't have to show off, though."
"Same to you," Henry said. "Well, you guys were having all sorts of fun without me! I had to do something, y'know."
"Yeah, I know."
"That's probably the most exciting thing that's gonna happen to us."
"Mmhmm."
"Our road trip is almost over."
"Yeah, and? Are you sad about that?"
"Nope!" Henry cheered. "I mean, I still wanted to buy souvenirs, or eat some Plegian curry, but I guess that's stuff for another time."
"Well, once we see 'His Royal Majesty Tarun' to his destination," Gaius snorted, "then we can do some sightseeing of our own, maybe."
Henry stared at Gaius with wide, open eyes.
Gaius was happy to see that they weren't black anymore.
"Seriously?"
"Haha, I'm kidding."
"Aaaaw."
"I wouldn't mind, but we should report back to Bubbles as soon as we can. 'Sides, once this war's over, we'll have all the time in the world to eat or go sightseeing." In spite of saying that, Gaius' voice had hints of disappointment laced throughout. "So no sweat, 'kay?"
"Hmm…" Henry hummed quietly, and sat up straighter as he thought deeply, dark blue eyes trained to the disappearing path before them. "Those bandits came outta nowhere. Do you think they materialized, or something?"
"Huh? Uh, well…" Gaius scratched the back of his head, as he averted his gaze from Henry's thoughtful eyes to the road winding down in their vision. "Hopefully not. Magic's a bit trickier to deal with, so it'd be better if that was the last of 'em."
"I'm just wondering how they caught up to us so quickly."
"Well, that merchant up there is pretty rich, and pretty rude, to boot. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got all sorts of enemies," Gaius said in a defeated tone. "We've really got our work cut out for us, don't we?"
"Yes, but it'll be fine! As long as we cut down our work before it cuts us, then we'll be a-okay!" Henry laughed madly, and leaned back until his head was on the floor of the carriage, and his legs dangled over the edge precariously. He stared up at Gaius, who stared down at him with a strange expression on his face.
Henry didn't realize it yet, but there was something like fondness in Gaius' eyes.
His laughs died down into giggles as he closed his own eyes, softly.
"As long as we work together, we'll be okay."
"You know what, Junior?" Gaius nearly sung. "I think you're right."
.
.
It was twilight when the carriage started driving slower. The Shepherds hopped out of the cart when they heard Tarun exclaim, "What's the big idea, here?"
The five of them sauntered over to the front of the cart, where they noticed that there was a sizable traffic ahead of them. Different carts, carriages, wheelbarrows, tractors, and other modes of travel were lined one after another, all the way down to the iron gates and post that could only be the Plegian border.
Their hearts sunk.
It seemed as if no one would be getting across. They couldn't tell why, but there was a low yet audible murmur of voices, consisted of all the travelers ahead of them. Gaius huffed, and looked at Lon'qu before speaking. "Mister Super Swordsman and I will go and see what the trouble is. Be right back." The two of them disappeared up ahead, melting into the evening shadows that the sun cast over the valley.
Tharja groaned. "Great, just great. First bandits, now this…"
"At least the bandits were more fun." Henry pouted veritably, and turned towards Libra. "Should we go back, then? What d'you think, Libra?"
"I believe we should hear from Gaius and Lon'qu first. It might be a small problem: there might be some bickering down at the front that's holding us up. If it's a larger scale problem, like if Plegia decided to close down its borders in a time of war, then that's…"
"Robin wouldn't send us all the way down here if the border was closed," Tharja admonished. "They have scouts, too. We would have known if Plegia did a big move like this. So, what gives?"
"Maybe it's a trap~" Henry mused. "Maybe we're all about to die right now from a massive explosion! Oh, boy, can you imagine the amount of blood? Do you think it'd rain blood from this many people?"
"Shut your traps," Tarun hissed. "You're not hagglers, so stop gossiping like you are." He stood down from his place at Earnest's side, and brushed off any dirt on his already-impeccable clothing. "This has happened before, but never at this time of day. In fact, the border never gets this much traffic around evening, so I'm a little suspicious, but—"
"We're back!" Gaius called out as he approached the group. Lon'qu was at his side, and his face was even more sour than usual.
Uh oh, Henry thought. This can't be good.
"What's going on?" Tharja asked. "Is there trouble, or—"
"We should leave," Lon'qu suddenly advised. "The Grimleal have held up the border patrol on this side, and they're not letting anyone in."
"What? Those blasted fanatics, how dare they get in the way of me seeing my family!" Tarun's face turned red, and he glanced at his wristwatch furiously. "We're already behind schedule because of this bandits, and now we have this to deal with."
"Well, think about the bright side of things!" Henry piped up. "At least you and Earnest aren't suffering alone~"
"Shut up!" Tarun shouted. "You're a Gods-damned nuisance, do you know that? Why, I oughta do something to quiet that overactive mouth of yours!"
"Oh, I'd really love to see you try!" Henry giggled as he stepped forward, ignoring the obvious warnings his other Shepherds gave him. "Come on, Tarun. Put your money where your mouth's at. I'll put mine where mine's at, too." His Nosferatu tome floated upward, and the pages started glowing ineffectually. Tarun took a fearful step back at this display, and Libra placed a hand on Henry's shoulder—all of which Henry ignored as he kept imposing on the other. "Let's see whose blood is actually blue, huh?"
"Henry, don't be a fool, he's our client."
"The two of you," Earnest interjected. "Please calm down."
"Junior, I—"
Gaius didn't get to finish what he was saying. He was cut off by a scream, but it didn't come from either of the Shepherds, nor did it come from Earnest or Tarun. The seven of them glanced ahead, where they heard the origin of the scream.
Yet that singular noise multiplied and multiplied, until all they could hear was screaming around them. It was as if an ensemble of demons rose from the ground, because the voices were all warped, miserable, and loud. It sent chills up their spines, and it was accompanied by a rising panic, as the carriages behind them got into gear, and started retreating, while "car" accidents began to happen all around them. It was a confusing time— until an explosion of wood, metal, and flesh erupted, and they understood at once what was happening.
A shadow cast over the border, but it wasn't one created by the sun. The shadow looked like multiple legs, arms, and teeth, and there were tiny dots in the distance that overlooked the shadow, waving back and forth in unsteady motions.
Gaius' trained eyes understood those shadows to be people, and the bigger shadow in the front was a mass of people, but not just any person.
They were a multitude of limbs and torsos, spreading like a disease over the Plegian border. They grew bigger and stronger, and stronger still, until sickening splatters were heard and seen, and the carriages near the front of the border were overturned and destroyed in the same likeness.
Risen, they all thought. A mob of Risen.
They're devouring everything in sight.
We'll be next.
"We have to leave, now!" Lon'qu ordered. He rushed Tarun and Earnest out from their shocked states, sword sheathed and hands firm. "Go, quickly!"
"Wait!" Tarun shouted. He broke free of Lon'qu grasp, and ran to the back of his cart, nearly tripping over himself in the process. "Wait, wait! I need to get something! Don't leave me here!"
"What are you doing?" Gaius yelled. "Ugh, Lon'qu! Take Earnest and the others with you! I'll get this idiot to safety."
"Very well!"
Lon'qu, Tharja, Libra, and Earnest ran off the main roadway. There was no time to get on the carriage and retreat, since traffic on both sides of them were congested due to fear and panic. They were tiny shadows of movement compared to the main course, so the Risen didn't notice them. But Henry watched carefully as they ran towards an opening in the wrought iron gates—a small dark hole in the side that was barely noticeable behind desert rock and shrubbery.
With the destination in mind, Henry nodded to himself, and ran over to Gaius and Tarun, who were both scrambling in the back of the carriage. Tarun wasn't listening to anything as he dug around for something seemingly valuable, and Gaius took this time to carry as many supplies (and treasure) as he could. Henry himself spotted a shiny healer's staff (Is this Libra's? he wondered to himself) and grabbed it, before finally breaking the silence.
"So are we gonna fight the Risen army over this gold, or what?"
"Quiet!" Tarun screamed. "I'm looking for something, and as soon as I have it, we'll go!"
"Just tell us what it is, so we can help you! We don't have much time!" Gaius shouted over a cacophony of screams, both Risen and human alike. "I don't want to die in a Gods-forsaken cart of all things."
"They're my valuables, okay? It's worth ten times the gold in this cart!" Tarun's shouts were morphed into a happy scream when he apparently found what he wanted: a small, oaken chest with two padlocks securing it. He cradled it under his arms, and nodded at Henry and Gaius. "Well, what are you blokes waiting for? Let's get a move on!"
Gaius lacked the energy to come up with a witty reply. He simply agreed, and dashed out of the wagon without a second thought. Henry followed after them (but not before snatching up a pretty satin pouch filled with gold coins) and laughed wildly. There were Risen crowding behind them, but by some miracle, they escaped unnoticed. Even Tarun, who was still clutching onto the somehow-important chest, was surprised that they were able to escape the way they did. His eyes flitted between Henry and Gaius—he looked like he wanted to say something—but he remained silent all the while.
The three of them ran towards the small opening in the wall that Henry noticed the others going towards earlier. There was a conveniently placed boulder formation that hid their whereabouts from most onlookers—not that they really had anyone to hide from, since there was a massacre happening right outside. But it was helpful to know that the Risen would be too preoccupied with other merchants, horses, and people to notice a few Shepherds and their convoy slip past the gate.
Henry, Tarun, and Gaius caught up with the others soon enough, and the seven of them found themselves in a dark tunnelway, with multiple directions leading outwards, inwards, and any which way. As Henry caught his breath, his gasps turned into halfway giggles, and he let out a delirious sigh. "Oh, this looks familiar," he jeered. "What's next on the agenda?"
"Ugh," Tharja whined. She wasn't out of breath anymore, although there was a visible slouch of relief when she saw the three of them, unharmed. "I guess we have to go around this whole madness. No doubt that the place will be flooded with Plegian soldiers trying to rid themselves of these Risen. Either that, or…"
"What makes you think this attack wasn't planned out by Plegian soldiers, themselves?" Lon'qu asked. "I wouldn't put it past them, to create a bloodbath like that on their own borders. They might even blame the Regna Ferox, Ylisse, or the Shepherds at the end of the day."
"Watch your tongue. I might not be fighting for my home country, but I'm not such a complete dullard that I've forgotten where I came from." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, although she didn't step closer to Lon'qu in the least. "Contrary to popular belief, not all of us are Grimleal. This would horrify our own citizens, too. Nevermind those poor bastards outside."
"Whatever is to come out of this terrible situation, we should remember our goal," Libra murmured. "We were to escort Tarun across the border, yes?"
"Well, you can't just leave me now!" The merchant himself stepped up, wearing a mixed look of fear, incredulity, and desperation in his eyes. "This part of the border has been compromised. I can't get home safely in this wreck."
"I agree," Earnest said. He hardly spoke to any of the Shepherds at this point, yet his eyes alone said tales of sincerity and concern. "I'd hate to ask more of you, but if you could somehow continue to escort us, until we're away from this chaos, then we'd be ever so grateful."
"Aw, but you've been nothing but a big, fat, bully this whole time!" Henry pointed past Earnest, and accused Tarun, with a chillingly bright smile on his face. "The deal was to bring you here safe and sound! You're still alive, right? So our job's over and done with!"
"That's—"
"We'll take you further in," Gaius interrupted. "This here is no place to have a sendoff. Even though we're safe inside these gates, there's no telling what'll happen next." He glanced at his fellow Shepherds, who gaped at his newly chivalrous display. "If you guys want to head back to camp, I won't hold it against you. But leaving things here like this just won't sit right with me."
"...Hmph," Lon'qu grunted. "I doubt you could handle this on your own. I'd rather leave things as we were ordered to, but if this is how it must be, then so be it."
"I also believe we should head further into Plegia," Libra agreed. "It's not safe to head back to the camp, right now, anyway. At least not in a group like ours."
"So it's just us two that's opposed to going further in, then?" Tharja motioned between herself and Henry. "This is bleeding with irony."
"To think the Plegians themselves hesitate to reenter Plegia," Tarun grumbled. "It's just as well."
"Well, it'd be boring to just kill the Risen all by myself. And then Robin would probably get mad that I left you guys behind, sooo…" Henry sighed even more dramatically, but the smile on his face grew wider, nonetheless. "Okay, fine. I still have to buy souvenirs, anyway! I'm in on this scheme, you crazy kids."
"Well, I'm not going back by myself," Tharja insisted.
"Then it's settled. We're all going further, and as soon as we find safety, we'll split."
"Sounds good to me!"
The seven of them were now in total agreement, and they turned to the complex hallways before them. This side of the Plegian border was fortified with dark metal, and according to a map hung up near the entrance, there wasn't another city, village, or township for half a day's travel. There was a rest stop closeby, but it was in the direct path of where the Risen were spawning, and even though the five Shepherds were seasoned fighters, they weren't enough to take on a whole mob.
Henry was tired of dealing with large groups of lethal enemies, anyway.
Not that he'd let it be known.
"I know someplace else we could go on this map," Tarun piped up. He placed a manicured finger on the directory, and pointed at a small dot situated in some moorlands, which said "STORAGE" in blocky, faded letters. "There used to be some sort of family establishment here. It's abandoned now, and the Plegian Border Patrol sometimes uses for storage. But even then, it's been years since people have properly used this place."
He took a deep breath, usually strong voice muddled with anxiety and fear. When Tarun found strength again, he continued. "It's in the nearby moorlands, not the desert. So we'll probably be able to lie low from any of the main traffic." He turned on his back, and smiled triumphantly at the others. His dark eyes shone with renewed pride. "Let's head there and wait out this 'storm', so to speak. Then, once the Risen are all cleared out, we can part ways officially and properly."
"Well, that's as good as a plan as we'll be getting," Gaius muttered. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I don't mind."
"I think it's a good idea, as well." Lon'qu nodded. "I'll lead the way. Gaius, you take the back. The rest of you get in the middle with our client. If we move now, we'll be there by dusk."
"Fine," Tharja said. She turned to face the priest. "Libra, stay close. A healer like you is very important in these trying times."
"Um, alright." Libra blushed lightly, but obeyed Tharja, nonetheless. "Very well, I'll be extra careful so no one gets hurt. May Naga guide us to safety."
"Don't worry about Naga!" Henry cheerfully shouted from behind them. He took his place in between Tarun and the trailing Gaius, although his voice seemed to carry on for miles. "She's not the one in danger right now!"
.
.
Ever since the merchant mentioned the moorlands, Henry's gut spiraled into ache-inducing motions. His chest grew heavy, the thinness of his frame trembled, and sweat began to collect at the back of his neck. Of course, his gaudy sorcerer's clothing hid all of these physical weaknesses, but not even his wondrous smile could conceal the truth that built up inside, and threatened to burst out his seams.
They were going there, of all places. They were heading towards a place of nightmares and nightmares alone. No dreams existed in this "Storage," no light entered an abyss so deep, it appeared shallow to those that skimmed the surface. But Henry knew of the horrors that awaited them. He knew of the darkness that bled out his shadow in every step, accentuated by the orbs of fire levitating around Tharja, and the single torch held high in Lon'qu hand.
He knew of what was to come.
He didn't like it.
Gaius was attentive, as always. He kept an eye out on everything and everyone. He noticed when Earnest coughed and sneezed, and wondered if the coachman was a sickly man, or if the dust in the border channels were enough to send his allergies alight. He noticed when Tarun checked his watch every five minutes, on the dot, because the man was as punctual as he was chaotic. He also noticed when Tarun kept inspecting the locked box in his hand, but never once wrestled for keys to open it. He saw Tharja muttering to herself—probably a spell to keep the magical fire alive so they could see in the growing darkness. He saw Lon'qu strong, upright, unwavering silhouette up ahead, and admired the true leadership that came out of the swordmaster as of late. He saw Libra bow his head occasionally, silently praying to the Gods (mostly Naga) that their journey would continue without incident.
He saw Henry—who stood right in front of him—nearly shrink into his cloak. It was a small movement, with narrow shoulders hunched and head dipped slightly. No one else but Gaius would have seen such a fearful display, but Gaius was keen, observant, and situated in the back where he could see everyone.
Where no one could see him.
He carefully looked back now and then, checking for stray Risen or spies, but his gut instinct told him that if there were any dangers, they would lie ahead of the group, and not behind them. The "abandoned" building in the moorlands posed all sorts of new threats towards them, and he had to do his part in considering every possibility. The danger was the uncertainty that their soon-to-be hideaway held. They didn't know anything about this place, or if they did, it's possible that the safety of that building had been compromised since then. All of this meant that Gaius had to be even more vigilant than usual, if he was to be able to play his part of escort.
Yet, it was hard to factor all of that in, when his attention naturally gravitated towards Henry. The sorcerer acted so gung-ho and hyper at times, it was hard to notice when his energy dulled out. Still, Gaius couldn't help but worry to himself; why did Henry seem so nervous about this new destination? Plegia was his home, and if anything, returning to familiar territory should have been a relief for him. Even if he was a true and tried Shepherd, his roots started in Plegia, and so he should have been a little more excited to return to his old stomping grounds.
Oh, Gaius suddenly thought, maybe he had bad experiences here, or something.
Or maybe he was serious about the souvenir thing.
Of course, it was too much to ask for someone to have good memories of their childhood. Gaius didn't know too much about Henry from that time, aside from what the Plegian shared with him before. All he knew was that Henry got lost in the woods one time, and was literally raised by wolves. Then he grew up from being that feral wild child, and at some point, enlisted in the Plegian army. Then, a few years later, he showed up in front of the Shepherds, cloaked in crows and ravens, laughing up a storm about how they needed his help to get through a narrow valley crawling with Risen.
Gaius will never forget that sight.
Although, those small snippets of time were only a few pieces of the puzzle. Wherever they were headed to next, it obviously spelled out bad news for Henry, which meant that this place was more than just an abandoned building.
It was an abandoned memory.
Gaius wasn't too much of a religious person, although his recent escapades had him more grateful for life than ever before. But in that moment in time—that instance where the seven of them were shrouded in darkness, and headed towards a place more unknown than the next—he felt that he could have stood right next to Libra himself, and prayed to the Gods that they'd make it out of whatever madness was waiting for them. If only he was a more faithful person, because then he'd make use of Naga, Grima, or whoever wanted to use their divine power to help them out.
But at the end of the day, Gaius could only put his trust in those things that he could see.
In the things that he could feel.
.
.
They escaped the Plegian borderlands, although the roaring bloodshed continued to resound in their ears like gongs. Even physically, the cacophony of cries for help, battle, and blood was still heard miles and miles away from the border. At some point along the way, they saw several Plegian troops headed towards the Risen infestation, all of which wore extremely concerned looks on their faces. Maybe Tharja was right about them, all along.
Of course, it didn't help that plenty of people and animals were dead already. If anything, the Risen devoured and destroyed that traffic of congested merchants and travelers like they were midnight snacks. There would be nothing left for the soldiers except troubles and corpses.
Gaius shuddered at the thought.
The sun was long set, although remnants of bright twilight lingered in the sky, especially in the horizon where the neon orange, pink, and yellow shades rebelliously shone against a dark blue-and-black background. A sliver of the sun's roundness was visible behind sloping mountains, but in ten minutes' time, that would also disappear.
The desert scenery transitioned slowly into moorlands. The sandy pathways, rocky ditches, and dry shrubs became less so, as low-growing grass and fields came into view, with the occasional willow tree that towered over all of them, as tall as some buildings in the capital city. The temperature here was cooler, too, although the desert night was renowned for being absolutely chilling. A small wind started up, and there was a palpable breath of relief shared throughout the group. Tharja sighed happily, and Henry hummed as he stretched his arms skyward, fingertips spread wide.
Several minutes later, they came into a more secluded moorland—one that had grassy hills surrounding a singular building, with trees and shrubs planted in random patches along the way. The building itself was large, imposing, and cut from black stone with uneven edges. There were rusted, metal grates fastened over the windows and doors. There were also four structural pillars around this rectangular building, with vantage points at the top that reminded them all of a typical castle structure. Yet there were no banners, no decorations, no liveliness to be had.
This building was completely abandoned, and it seemed that way for a long time, since some of the grass was overgrown, and all the trees in the yard were dead and bare. The wind in this area was louder, untamed, and hollow to the point where it sounded like someone shrieking, at times. It was uneasy, unnerving, and unsettling in every way possible. Yet no one broke face at this display. They simply walked ahead with caution, towards the front of the building, where they could see more finer details up close.
There was an immense amount of dust and cobwebs, settled in the corners of the windowsills, wrapped around the door frame, and over the metal bars. This pattern continued for all three stories of this monstrosity, although they noticed that some of the windows on the first story had the metal bars removed, and the glass panes were all cracked or broken. Tarun was right about this place being used once before them, so they vaguely wondered just how much of this establishment was left for them to hide in.
The dreariness of this hideaway was so great, Gaius barely noticed that Henry's outstretched arms had fallen to his sides, and his veritable cheer nearly disappeared. Worried, Gaius stared at the other and watched for a reaction, but Henry was in a completely different world, because all he paid attention to was the metal plaque near the entrance, and the rest of him was frozen (arms, legs, mouth, eyes) still—glazed over with trepidation and fear.
Gaius inhaled and exhaled deeply, the front part of his hair flying up in the process. He waited for the strands to settle—he waited for absolute silence from the others as he stepped forward, feet planted on the rickety porch and worn out wood and stone. His gaze was steady as he read aloud the faded words on the plaque, knowing that each syllable spelled out a death sentence towards Henry.
"Mallory E. Webcott Orphanage," he said. "A Home for Tired and Troubled Youths."