A/N: Well, so much for the previous update rate. Sorry.

Again, thanks for the follows, favs, and reviews so far!

I'm attending tonight's performance with mixed feelings.

If Libra's renowned dancer ends up being Olivia, then I'm worried that something bad is going to happen. You can't get a new character in Fire Emblem without some kind of battle, after all.

It took effort to convince Libra to bring his axe tonight, concealed under his robes. I haven't brought my bow, but my staff is present. I've been negligent in studying whether or not I can hide items in the same hyperspace my Estus Flask seems to use. I mark it in my mind as another task on my growing to-do list.

Priorities, though. I should start speaking to Libra about the plot soon. He's freely available now, but he might not be in the future. Optimize, optimize, optimize.

It doesn't feel like the right time now, but I can't keep delaying, either.

THUM.

The exciting murmurs of the crowd die down as a powerful set of drums make themselves heard.

Thum-thum-THUM.

Next to me, Libra is splitting his attention between the opening act and watching the children in front of us to make sure they don't wander.

Thum-thum-THUM.

Eight braziers on the ground are lit, creating an invisible circle for the performers. It feels like the whole town has come out for tonight. Though it's crowded, the people remember to leave room between the circle and the performer's caravan, so that dancers or singers can come and go.

I shift my legs for one of the children near me. Kids and shorter folk are closer to the front of the circle, for obvious reasons.

I hear the tinkling of bells as a pair of dancers step into the circle.

Adam
Dancer

LV: 3. EX: -.
HP: 17/17

Elice
Dancer

LV: 5. EX: -.
HP: 18/18.

I've been using my ability to see character descriptions to scout out everyone here, from the performers to the townsfolk. It seems like a good habit to get into.

My eyes open instinctively when I feel someone nudge me with their elbow.

Libra looks at me, raises an eyebrow in the direction of the dancers, then closes his eyes tightly in an exaggerated imitation of me.

"Shut it," I say.

Okay, it makes me look like an idiot sometimes. It's still a good habit.

The dancers stomp in rhythm with the drums. The tinkling of the bells on their ankles adds a nice effect. Both the male and the female are dressed in some pretty flimsy clothing, but it's more conservative than what Olivia wears.

Speaking of Olivia, there's no sign of her anywhere.

"Is that her?" I ask Libra, subtly pointing at Elice. "The renowned dancer?"

Libra tilts his head. "I think so."

… Well, the world doesn't revolve around me. Elice is certainly pretty enough to be famous. I wonder how well she dances?

Thum-thum-THUM. Thum-thum-THUM.

The rhythm picks up, and I hear some pipes added to the mix. There's another instrument that I can't really identify, but it seems like it uses strings, and – damn, that's a good beat! It sounds vaguely Arabian.

Someone in the audience starts clapping in tune with the music. I join in, and I'm not the only one.

Thum-thum-THUM.

Clap! Clap!

The dancers smile at that, and then things really take off. They twist and spin and stomp in time with the beat. I idly notice a cloaked figure step into the circle. She starts to sing, and while I can't understand the words it's still beautiful.

I'm humming along with the music, and even Libra is nodding appreciatively.

Adam and Elice take turns dancing. Their faces glisten with sweat, but their movements remain smooth and controlled.

It feels like an hour has passed, though I can't be sure with the sun down. The music is still just as enchanting, the dancing just as exciting. The crowd is cheering, though their voices should be hoarse by now.

Thum-thum-THUM.

Clap-clap-clap!

Thum-thum-THUM.

As they dance along the edges of the stage, they begin dousing the braziers. The music slows, and stops with a final thum as the last fire dies out.

The crowd erupts in cheers, and only with some very distant torchlight can I make out the two dancers bowing.

I can make out one of the kids calling for Libra. "Wah! It's dark!"

"I'm here, children," I hear Libra's voice from beside me, barely audible through the audience's praises and whistling. The monk glances in my general direction. "I'll admit it makes for an impressive effect, but they really should've left one fire burning."

As if in response to his words, a brazier is lit once more, in the center of the performer's stage.

The crowd's cheering becomes excited murmuring. I feel a renewed hope as I see a cloaked figure, alone in the circle.

"A final act, eh?" I say to Libra.

He nods. "Looks like it."

The music starts up again, slowly building up speed.

Drum… Drum…. Drum…

The figure starts dancing, but with the cloak on, it's hard to make out what they're doing, let alone whether they're male or female.

… Screw it, I'm cheating. I close my eyes.

Olivia
Dancer

LV: 10. EX: -.
HP: 25/25.

Yessssss! Knew it!

The music sounds different than before. I think I hear a sitar playing in the background.

"You're grinning, Ess'ai," Libra says.

Huh, so I am.

As the music swells and crescendos, the dancer shirks her cloak. In the flickering flames, I see a flash of pink hair. The dancer bursts into a new set of steps with renewed energy.

Drum-da-drum, drum drum drum!

There's a few seconds of silence as everyone forgets how to breathe. Myself included. I mean, wow. Wow.

Underneath the cloak is Olivia in her dancer's outfit, almost exactly as her artwork depicts her. I was desensitized to her quickly enough during the game, but there's a difference between seeing someone in 3-dimensions and seeing a static image.

I'm in a painful state of wanting to close my eyes to protect them from hotness overload, and wanting to keep them open because, well, Olivia.

The audience roars its approval after they recover, and Olivia doesn't let up on her dancing. Drums, horns, and whatever string instruments the performers are using are playing in full force as Olivia steps and twirls and dances.

And boy, can she dance. The previous performers were great, but Olivia blows them out of the water. There's something more to her movements, a little more meaning, a bit more grace.

I don't think it's something that can easily be taught or explained. This is nothing less than the overlap of two rare events: someone being born with overwhelming talent, and someone having a chance to consistently hone their dancing skills.

The shadows flickering on her body from the lone brazier seem almost alive, just a much a part of her as her shawl. She glistens with sweat, and the combined effect is stunning.

She does a smooth sideways flip at one point, and the audience cheers and claps and whistles. She smiles, radiant and beautiful.

Beautiful. That word more-or-less covers the entirety of Olivia's performance.

I lose track of time. The music finally reaches its climax, and Olivia doesn't disappoint. There's a spin. There's a flip. Olivia brings her hand to her mouth.

Drum-da-drum, drum drum drum!

She sends out a kiss out to the audience, and I realize belatedly that it's the signature dance she does in-game for allies. The crowd eats it up as Olivia bows.

She's shining with sweat and breathing hard, but she has a clear smile on her face as she finishes. I'm… going to burn this image into my brain.

I only manage to tear my eyes from her as she grabs her cloak again. The audience seems to want to swarm her, but the other performers quickly shepherd her back into their caravan.

"We'll still be here tomorrow, don't you worry!"

"That was amazing!"

"Didja see the way she did 'em 3 spins? And then the way she-!"

"Forget that, ya notice how she was all sparkly?"

"Ya mean shiny?"

"Nah mate, I mean them pink sparkles in the air!"

"The hells you talkin' about?"

"Har, who'd look at the air when you could look at her-"

"Alright, children," Libra's voice brings me back to reality. "I think it's time to get back to the church."

The children, who'd been mostly silent throughout the performance, burst into excited chattering and exclamations as Libra addresses them.

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Wowwww!"

"She's just as pretty as you, Father Libra!"

"Wowwww!"

I don't know how to interpret Libra's expression, nor can I stop the laugh that breaks out of me.

"That," I say as Libra finishes putting the children to sleep, "was awesome."

The monk closes a door behind us, and we walk to gathering room of the church. Father Bran is asleep elsewhere, but Father Jan is still awake, poring over some tomes by candlelight. The bulky priests nods to us as we walk by.

"Heading to bed?" he asks. His eyes flicker to me with an undecipherable expression.

"Soon enough," Libra answers. "I'm going to head out for a quick walk with Ess'ai."

I blink and follow the monk as he leaves the church.

"A quick walk?" I ask as the doors clatter shut behind us.

"So you could talk to me about whatever it was you were holding back in front of the others," Libra says.

"Oh, you noticed," I say.

Libra waits for me to follow up, then gives me an amused smile when I don't. Argh, don't look at me like that! I've got to make sure I can get you to believe me, damn it!

"I'm guessing," he says gently, "that you're going to tell me where you're planning on going from here."

I nod to him gratefully for the set-up. Then I pause. "Wait, are you subtly telling me that I'm not invited to keep sponging off you guys?"

That actually gets a quiet laugh out of him. "I would be, had you not told me earlier that lives depend on you getting some messages to Ylisse." Then he frowns. "And you don't… "sponge" off us at all. Don't think I haven't notice how you barely eat, Ess'ai."

Good ol' Estus.

"Did I say that?" I ask, ignoring his last statement altogether. "Well, that's the short of it. Libra, I have a favour to ask of you."

The monk picks up on my tone. He holds his hand up to request silence as we walk through Galt.

It's not too chilly tonight. Libra leads me away from the torchlights in the town proper. He finds a secluded spot, away from any homes. There's open space around us, and no one nearby.

"I'm guessing that this is related to that spell on you," he says. "And that you don't want anyone to overhear this."

Did he pick that up from just my body language?

"Sort of yes and yes, respectively," I say. I've been thinking over this topic for long enough. It's time to commit. "Libra, the favour that I ask of you is that you listen very carefully to what I'm about to tell you, and that you don't walk out halfway through this conversation. This is serious. I'm not joking about anything I'll tell you tonight, and lives will actually be on the line."

The monk nods slowly. "I am ready."

"Your word?" I prompt.

"You have it," he answers.

I hesitate for a moment. Honesty is generally the best policy, right? I've read tons of stupid self-insert stories where the protagonist hoards information that they should really reveal, and the only reason it doesn't backfire is because of author rail-roading. I don't think I can rely on that.

Or maybe I can, if my life is actually a story being read by people – no, focus. I've got a B-support with Libra, and I've known him for a little while now. Unloading on him as soon as I met him would have been careless, but I think I can get away with this now.

Now-or-never.

"Okay," I say. "First, a quick check-in on the state of affairs. The Grimleal are Grima-worshippers, correct?"

I can feel the monk's eyes on me through the darkness. "Yes," he answers.

"And Grima is a dragon of destruction that wants to end humanity?" I prod.

Libra clearly hesitates, and I can sense him looking around in the darkness. "Ah. Well, there's different interpretations-"

"That's what I've heard so far. Does it match what you know?"

The monk sighs. "Well… yes, but-"

I raise a hand. "That's fine, details can come later. The first thing I need to tell you is this: the head of the Grimleal is a man named Validar. I'm reasonably confident that he's outright evil. He has a plan to use the Grimleal to assassinate Exalt Emmeryn in Ylisstol, and I suspect this may be soon."

Libra hisses in a deep breath. "That's insane – wait, the first thing?"

"I'm going to get these all out in one big swoop, so keep up, and questions later," I warn. "That's one thing. Validar has a subordinate named Aversa, a beautiful woman with white hair and dark skin. One of her roles is to seduce Gangrel, and entice him into starting a war with Ylisse. The assassination and war with Ylisse will probably be back-to-back, though I'm not sure which'll be first."

I think the Maribelle chapter precedes the assassination chapter. I can't see clearly, but Libra's fists are clenched. To his credit, he's clearly restraining himself from saying anything.

"And most importantly," I finish heavily. "Their goal. The Grimleal are aiming to return Grima to the realm of the living. I don't think they'll really even care if Plegia loses their war against Ylisse. If they do, they'll take advantage of everyone's despair. They want people to flock to the Grimleal, because Grima's revival calls for a ton of human sacrifices. And if they win the war, well, I'm guessing they can get sacrifices by force. To revive Grima, they'll also need the Fire Emblem and the 5 gemstones that fit into it, so it's essential that Ylisse keep the Emblem away from Plegia."

I want to throw in a final aside about Valm, but I'm sensing that it's a bad idea. "Those are the key pieces of information you need to know," I say. "How can I get you to believe me?"

From Libra's body language, I feel it was a good thing to add-in that bit of lamp-shading at the end.

Libra takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "Naga protect us all," he murmurs, running a hand through his blond hair. His eyes snap open and he looks at me intently. "Ess'ai. Do you have proof of your claims?"

I hesitate. "I'm willing to tell you, but it's hard-to-believe."

"I've noticed many oddities-" Libra starts, then cuts himself off. "Well, that's not important. I'll hear you out, Ess'ai. What is your proof?"

Explaining that he's a video game character is going to be pointlessly confusing when the concept of video games doesn't exist here. Still, I need him to understand my point of view.

"Are you familiar with the story of the Hero King, Marth?" I ask.

That throws Libra for a loop. "… Yes, but only in general."

"That's fine," I say. "Knowing what you know, if you had a chance to speak to the Hero King at the start of his journeys, to warn him of upcoming danger, what would you tell him?"

Libra looks at me oddly. "I suppose… I would warn him to stop the marriage of Princess Nyna to Emperor Hardin. Ah, and I'd warn him of Gra's betrayal, so he could evacuate his people early."

"Okay," I say noncommittally. "And-"

"Ah!" Libra says suddenly. "Though if I warned King Marth and it changed his actions-"

I smile. "Right, you have reason to believe that even if you do nothing, history won't be the same. If you do nothing, it's entirely possible that Marth could lose his wars."

Libra frowns. "Then… yes, I'd warn him of Gra's betrayal, and get him to stop Emperor Hardin's corruption."

"What if Marth didn't believe you?" I prompt.

"Well," Libra muses. "I'm… not sure, actually. I don't know the details of his campaign, so I'm not sure what I could practically tell him."

I arch an eyebrow. "Thousands upon thousands of lives would be at risk, Libra. You'd settle for just warning him with no follow-up?"

Libra flushes a little. "Well, it's not as though I have proof…," he trails off, and I see him make the connection between myself and our hypothetical scenario. "Naga save us, are you actually implying-"

"Yes. Validar wants to assassinate Exalt Emmeryn, Plegia will go to war with Ylisse soon, and Grima will be revived if action isn't taken," I say flatly. "And while you wouldn't be able to offer Marth too much proof, I can offer you some."

"Wait," Libra says, and his voice sounds a bit shaken. "Give me a second."

I respect his wishes as Libra puts his head in his hands. He takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes.

"Ess'ai, be clear with me. No using examples. How exactly do you know what you know?" Libra asks.

"Like you've heard stories of Marth, I've heard stories of Prince Chrom and his Shepherds," I answer. It's close enough to the truth. "I'm not from Ylisse, or Valm, or Plegia, or any land that exists here, Libra."

Libra shakes his head. "I… I can't believe that."

I note his word choice. Can't, not don't.

"Well, it's not impossible, even by your world's standards," I point out. "Naga can send people through time and space, can't she?"

"What?" Libra asks. "Nothing I've read has mentioned that."

"Oh," I say, flummoxed. "Well, it's in my stories back home."

Libra's falls silent, and I recognize that this isn't a time for me to speak further. He starts pacing back and forth. Occasionally he mutters something to himself.

He stops abruptly. "You said that while I wouldn't be able to offer Marth much proof, you could offer me some proof," the monk says.

"Right," I say, feeling suddenly awkward. "Um… this is… kind of hard to admit."

"Ess'ai, if I'm going to believe something as utterly mad as what you're suggesting-" Libra starts.

"I know, I know," I say. "Just… don't think too poorly of me, okay?"

"… Huh?"

I exhale deeply. "Libra… you remember when I first met you, right?"

I can sense the monk rolling his eyes behind his straight face. "It's not something I'd easily forget," he remarks dryly.

I flush. "Right, right. Well, I've gotta confess something about our meeting. Right. I'm just going to come out and say it."

"Okay," Libra says patiently.

I hesitate again anyway. Stupid. What's one more tidbit on top of all the stuff I've already told him? I told myself I'd do complete disclosure, so that's what I'm going to do.

"On that night, if it were almost anyone else, I wouldn't have saved them," I admit. "… I would've just given Garm his axe and run."

Libra's stare feels heavy. "I'm not sure what you're trying to say, Ess'ai."

"The story that I've heard, the battle between Prince Chrom's Shepherds and the Fell Dragon Grima," I say. "You're in it. You fight with Chrom. My priority is getting this information to Chrom, but when I saw you there, I couldn't let you die. This world might not be able to afford your death."

"I… see," Libra says slowly. There's not enough light for me to see his face clearly, so I can't exactly tell how he's taking this information. "And how do you know I'm the same Libra as the one mentioned in your stories?"

"The 'spell' on me lets me see information about anyone I direct my mind to," I explain. "When my eyes are closed, specifically."

Libra breathes in sharply. "So that's why."

"Yeah…" I say. "You noticed, didn't you?"

"I'd think that you were faking it for just this moment," Libra says. "But… you were able to recognize those bandits on our way to Galt from a distance. You closed your eyes in the middle of combat with them. You did it when you first saw me."

The monk sighs and actually sits down on the hard ground. I drop down to join him. He puts his face in his hands again.

"This is madness," he says through his hands. "Impossible."

"It's the truth," I say. "As far as I'm aware, at least. I swear it."

"You didn't answer my question, though," he points out. "You didn't give me proof."

As sharp with details as ever.

"My proof is that I know things about you and the other Shepherds," I admit. Libra stiffens. "It's not too much, and it's scattered knowledge, but I know some key bits and pieces about everyone, information that a stranger could have no way of knowing. If I meet the actual Shepherds, I'm sure I'd be able to demonstrate enough knowledge to convince you."

"No one else is here, though," Libra says slowly. "So… what do you know about me?"

"Someone else is here," I say. "The dancer from tonight, Olivia. She plays a role in this story, too."

"Ess'ai," Libra says softly. For the first time in our conversation, there's a clear hint of warning to his tone. "What do you know about me?"

I sigh. "I know that… your parents believed you were a demon. You've still got a mark on your body from that encounter," I say carefully. I'm fortunate that I remember his Nowi and Tharja supports. I got them relatively early in my play-through, before all the conversations started blurring together. "You were alone since then. Your faith in Naga became your rock after that… although we already had that conversation earlier."

Libra stands up silently. "I… need to think about this," he says, making to leave.

Fuck. I don't blame him for being uncomfortable. Does he see me as a liar now? I've been holding onto this information since I met him, after all.

"Okay," I say to his retreating form. "But you gave your word. Don't forget."

Libra pauses. "I'll be back," he says. "Just… give me some time, okay?"

I've been sitting for what feels like an hour, waiting for Libra's return.

Should I have waited for an A-support before dumping all of this on Libra? I got his B-support much faster than I expected, after all. But who knows when we'd next be able to fight alongside each other?

I'd suspect him of outright abandoning me or going to get some authorities, but this is Libra. There's worse places for me to put my hope.

I'm fine with my decision. I can't do anything alone, especially with my atrocious stats. Managing other people and making optimal use of human resources is how you get stuff done.

I'm fine with my decision, but I still feel nervous. Libra's given me a point of focus in this world. He's anchored me to the plot. Without that, I'd feel lost.

I sigh and adjust my position on the ground. I've taken shelter next to a tree to block the weak winds. It's a little cold, but I'll deal with it. I could've told Libra to regroup with me at the church, but I'd rather not ask anything of him at the moment.

I continue to wait.

… … …

Dark Awakening - Now Loading

Heron-Marked: A penalty born of the Outrealm skill "Lord of the Morning." Provokes enemies with a greater overall rating than the user.

The heron-mark symbolizes complete mastery of blade. While useful in intimidating weaker opponents, it's certain to draw the attention of swordmasters. The greatest warriors of their times are often so marked, in order to find and test one another in combat.

Those afflicted with this penalty lead difficult lives, but astute minds and brave souls could surely put the fate of the heron-marked to good use.

"Ess'ai?"

Huh? Oh, I fell asleep. I blink rapidly and see Libra looking down at me.

"Damnit," I grumble. "Leg fell asleep. Help me up?"

The monk offers me a hand. I take it and shake my leg to wake it up.

I'm freezing.

"I thought you'd head back to the Church," Libra says apologetically.

"I told you I'd wait, and you said you'd be back," I say. "That was pretty clear communication. I can't change my mind after you leave."

"Sorry," Libra says. "… It took me a while to get my head wrapped around what you told me."

"It's fine," I wave it off. "If you feel mildly bad about it, that'll make you more inclined to be nice to me or believe me. I'll take that trade-off any day."

The monk sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Why didn't you tell me any of this when we met?"

"We both know why," I say.

"… I suppose so," Libra admits.

"So, what have you decided?" I ask tentatively. "Do you believe me?"

My heart is pounding fiercely for such a simple question.

Libra pauses for a bit, seemingly to get his thoughts in order. "I've thought about what you've told me," he starts, "and I've decided that this isn't something I can ignore. There's too many oddities about you that lend weight to your story, and if there actually is an assassination plot against the Exalt… well, better safe than sorry."

I let out an explosive sigh of relief. "Thank you, Libra."

He smiles sadly.

"And I noticed that you didn't say you actually believe me," I point out, and his smile becomes rueful. I cut him off before he can retort. "But that's fine. I'll settle for this, too, so long as we both get the outcome we want and the Exalt lives."

Emmeryn living past the assassination attempt is okay with me. She's such a martyr that she'll probably find another way to die, anyway.

"I still have several questions," Libra says as we walk back towards the church. "Like how you know history won't go the same way it did in your stories."

I stop.

"Ess'ai?" Libra pauses and turns back to look at me.

"I wasn't going to bring this up today," I say. "But there's another big aspect to this story that I can tell you of, if you want."

"… There's more?" Libra says incredulously. "Let's have it, I suppose."

"Right," I say. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Libra, have you heard of something called the Darksign?"

A/N: It's amusing to me how much screen-time Libra's been getting as a result of both him and the protagonist being alive and together at this point. I wasn't expecting to write any of these scenes going in.

Still, this is why I find roll-based writing fun.

Happy New Years, amigos!