Chapter 14: Chapter 14, Ill Omens
The Awakening game had two timelines. Let's call them Timeline A and Timeline B. In Timeline A, the worst came to pass: Validar successfully resurrected the Fell Dragon, and with it kickstarted the apocalypse. Seas of Risen washed over the known world, all under the shadows cast by Grima's continent-spanning wings. They exterminated all life without mercy, including Chrom and his Shepards. The ones left to pick up their mantle were their children, forced to live and fight for their very lives since a young age. However, struggle as they might, their efforts would all be for naught, for they lacked the means to defeat the Wings of Despair. It's the reason Timeline A was commonly known as the Doomed Timeline.
So Naga, the Divine Dragon, provided them with an opportunity. Using a powerful ritual, she sent the Shepard's children back into the past, to a time before Grima's resurrection in the hopes they could prevent the worst from occurring. Thus, Timeline B, Awakening's main storyline, was created.
Laurent was one such child.
And holy SHIT, the hell was up with his stats?!
I'd contemplate the implications of his arrival later, because the kid hadn't come here alone: Risen from the future snuck through the portal with him, and had him surrounded and outnumbered 20-to-1. He was also grief-stricken, and while I didn't know for whom, his anguish was blinding him to the danger he was currently in.
I wasn't letting a kid die on my watch.
"We're saving him," I said, twisting the Master Cycle Zero's throttle.
"You got it!" Nowi affirmed.
Robin nodded, holding tight as we exploded into motion.
Laurent noticed us, having heard the roar of the Master Cycle Zero's engine. In doing so, he finally saw the Risen who'd hitchhiked a ride through space and time with him. He scrambled for his tome, but was too slow when the nearest Risen slammed its axe into his chest.
Yet somehow, he didn't die.
The gold ring (adorned with a simple ruby) on his left thumb blinked crimson, and Laurent was suddenly protected by transparent scarlet armor, intercepting the death blow and reducing it to nothing but a shallow bruise before vanishing soon after. He was attacked several more times, with decrepit swords and lances, but the translucent protection continuously blinked in and out of existence to weather every hit.
It had to be his ring's doing, a magical artifact of sorts, so I scanned it.
[Red Ring, Rank: S]
Discovered by the Hero of Hyrule in Death Mountain, the Red Ring cuts down damage to its user by tripling their natural durability and resilience.
Durability: 20/20
Magic Cost: 5
[<Red Ring, Rank: S> has been added to the SYSTEM's Catalogue!]
Hold the phone, what?!
Red Ring? Hero of Hyrule?
That sounded like …!
Questions later, fight now!
As we rapidly neared, I didn't bother slowing down. If anything, I cranked the throttle even harder. Shifting my weight back to perform a wheelie, the Master Cycle Zero's front wheel rose up and slammed into a Risen's face, obliterating their cursed mask and the skull underneath it.
At the same time, Nowi leapt using our forward momentum and transformed in midair. When she came crashing down in her full dragon form, she landed and rolled across several more of the undead, crushing them beneath her weight.
Robin used her tome of Elwind with pure lethality, manifesting razor sharp blades of wind that shredded the Risen like they'd been thrown into nature's blender.
Granting Laurent a moment of reprieve, the kid hastily grabbed his tome (one I didn't recognize) and began chanting, causing the worn pages to flutter open as they channeled his arcane power. A Risen scrambled towards him like a zombie on steroids, waving its axe with a madman's fervor, only to have its head disintegrated by a laser beam of concentrated lightning that shot from Laurent's palm.
Thoron, Rank: B lightning magic.
Using the same tome Laurent cast another spell, but from an entirely different elemental branch. The glass beneath one of the undead churned and bubbled before a spout of superheated sand—practically lava—erupted forth and swallowed the Risen whole, stripping the dead flesh from its withered bones.
Bolganone, Rank: B fire magic.
And as if he was showing off, Laurent used wind magic next. With speed and precision born from countless hours of practice, he generated a miniature hurricane composed entirely out of sickles of wind, which utterly shredded its intended Risen into fine particles.
Rexcalibur, Rank: B wind magic.
An impressive showing, but we weren't out of the woods yet.
One of the few remaining Risen lunged at me and Robin from behind, its lance poised to run us both through. I executed a burnout with the Master Cycle Zero, gripping the front wheel's brakes while using the throttle and clutch to make the rear wheel accelerate. Because we were fighting atop a glass platform, created by the time portal's pyrotechnic display, the motorcycle remained stationary while the back wheel cracked the hardened sand and sent shards of it shooting into the Risen like buckshot from a shotgun.
It didn't survive the experience.
The last two Risen focused on us, ignoring Nowi and Laurent as they dashed at me and Robin from different directions. Bracing one foot against the ground, I angled the Master Cycle Zero and did a sharp donut, slamming the rear wheel into both the undead, one after another, as I drew a large circle in the glass.
One of the Risen was knocked towards Nowi, who finished up stomping on her own shambling meatbags and caught this one with her jagged teeth. Grabbing the dangling limbs with her talons, the Manakete tore the reanimated puppet in twain in a pretty brutal display.
But not quite as vicious as myself, as I drove the Master Cycle Zero atop of the collapsed and final Risen, pinning its head beneath the rear wheel. Then I punched the throttle, watching without remorse as the revolving wheel grinded its face down, layer after layer, until it was nothing but roadkill.
"Pft! Pft! Ew!" Nowi gagged, retching up pieces of her Risen from her fang-lined maw. "That tasted awful! I'm—" she reverted to her humanoid form—"never doing that again!"
I drove off the disintegrating corpse and slowed to a stop alongside the Manakete.
"No surprise, seeing how they're nothing more than moving corpses," Robin said, sliding off the back of the Master Cycle Zero. "And you!" She jabbed a finger at me. "You know how much I hate it when you pull off those stunts while I'm riding with you!"
I scratched my head apologetically before passing Nowi a waterskin from my Inventory. She snatched it up and hurriedly gargled the fleshy bits of Risen out of her mouth.
"I know, it was an emergency," Robin continued before I could say I was sorry, "so I understand. Are you okay, Nowi?"
"A-Okay!" Nowi affirmed. "Not a single boo-boo!"
Laurent chose this moment to introduce himself, approaching cautiously while also taking off his headwear and holding it against his chest: a sign of courtesy. "Greetings and salutations. I am Laurent, and you have my sincerest gratitude for your timely intervention."
"Hi! I'm Nowi!"
Laurent goggled our friend, intensely, and I could see the makings of a smile tug at his stern lips. He'd no doubt heard tales of all of Chrom's Shepards, and was likely starstruck having met one.
"Aw, I know I'm adorable but try not to stare too hard," Nowi giggled. "My bestest buddies might take your leering the wrong way!"
And our goofy Manakete ruined his moment, as Robin hurriedly placed herself between Laurent and Nowi while giving the poor guy a disapproving glare.
"Good heavens! T-This is all but a misunderstanding!" Laurent protested before quietly grumbling, "… like mother, like daughter." He cleared his throat, using the time to regain his bearings, and asked Robin, "Might I have the privilege of your name as well?"
"… Robin Nirvid, and I've got my eyes on you."
Recognition practically slapped the future kid across the face, though he did his best to hide it. It was plain to see the gears turning in his head.
It felt like he'd forgotten about me, so I said, "Hey you."
Laurent stilled, as though he'd been petrified. Ever so slowly, he turned towards me with gradually widening eyes, eventually ending as perfect circles. He was studiously observing me, from my stature to my attire, before focusing on my mask. It was like he was trying to peer through it, to discover the face that lied underneath.
I'd no idea why I was eliciting such a reaction from the kid, but pressed on, "You're a long way from home, aren't you?"
The future kid swallowed, his Adam's Apple visibly shuddering as a lone tear escape his left eye.
"Teacher …?" he murmured, that one word packed to its bursting point with years of emotion.
I quirked an eyebrow, not that anyone saw. "You know me?"
Laurent hastily turned away, hiding his features as he fought to compose himself. He must've succeeded, because when he faced us again he was the picture of professionalism.
"No, I believe I do not. Your baritone provoked memories of another unrelated acquaintance, thus my momentary lapse."
Yeah, I'm calling bull on that. Laurent knew me, recognized me, and I wanted to know why.
So I glanced down at his tome, used [Structural—
~
—Analysis] … what in the world?
I was no longer standing in the mirage desert, not unless someone delivered aisles and aisles of books and scrolls without me noticing. The musk of old parchment was heavy here, wherever here was. I also didn't know what became of the others (I was alone, as far as I could tell), but this whole place screamed "LIBRARY."
The dim glow of twilight faintly illuminated the scholarly area, so I headed deeper inside to get my bearings. Once I did, I finally began to recognize the familiar surroundings: Ylisstol. Specifically, the Exalt's castle. This was the royal library, which I only caught a brief glimpse of during my tour years ago.
Yet there was evil in the air; literally. Peaking outside a passing window, I saw the sky was blotted by grim clouds, with only scant amounts of sunlight filtering through. It was obviously late-morning, but felt more like the advent of nightfall.
I'm pretty sure I knew what was going on: this was a memory, a strong one imprinted on Laurent's tome. I'd basically been dragged into it to view the past, though I'm not sure how; this never happened to me before.
"Teacher."
That was Laurent, his voice coming from a quiet corner of the library. He wasn't speaking to me, but another. Curious, I headed over, walking through the bookshelves like a ghost. As these were events of Laurent's past, there was no way for me to interact with anything here.
I found the bespectacled magician hovering fretfully over another man, weak and sickly by their haggard rasping. My heart nearly seized when I saw exactly who it was.
It was me.
I was older, still using Link's body, and looking like I barely survived through a decade of absolute torture. My future self's face was gaunt with illness, with several blackened veins prominently standing out from his corpse-pale skin. He wasn't wearing a mask, letting me clearly see he was missing his right eye, gouged out with a knife judging from the surrounding scar tissue. Not only that, but future-me was missing his left arm at the shoulder, while everything below his right knee was a wooden peg. He still had a right hand, but something had chewed off his pinky and ring fingers.
Seeing his horrendous state nearly gave me a panic attack, as my heart rammed itself against the inside of my ribs while my lungs struggled for air. What the flipping hell happened to him? To me?
"Laurent," my future self spoke, his voice so crippled with lingering pain a stiff breeze could've knocked him over if he weren't already sitting.
"What insanity possessed you to forsake your chambers?" Laurent demanded in equal parts anger and worry. "Everyone came upon their own horrid conclusions when Nah reported your disappearance! Lucina rallied half the castle's personnel in search of you!"
"Sorry, sorry," Future-Me chuckled, though it sounded more like the death throes of a rasping donkey. "Had something I needed to see to, put the finishing touches on myself."
"And what project warranted the risk of your personal wellbeing?"
Future-Me handed a book to Laurent: the very tome I'd used [Structural Analysis] on.
Laurent held the tome in absolute reverence, treating it as delicately as glass. It was about 200 pages thick, with the symbol of the Triforce decorating its cover. One triangle was red, the other green, and the last yellow: fire, wind, and lightning.
"Teacher … this is …" Laurent choked through his emotions.
"Told you I'd get it working."
"M-Many have claimed this could not be done …"
"… just means no one succeeded yet," Future-Me said dismissively, though his achievement did bring a weak smile to his face. "All it took was good old fashioned trial and error. Thought about adding dark magic too, but that's not your cup of tea. You'll be a right terror against the Risen with that in your hands."
"I … I shall endeavor to prove my worth to you, Teacher," Laurent swore.
"You've already been doing that for years, kid. Just keep being you. Ah, and before I forget." My future self reached into one of his pockets (I only now noticed he wore luxurious silk nightclothes) and brought out the Red Ring. Then, he held it out for Laurent to take. "Here, it's dangerous to go alone: take this."
Future-Me chuckled at the reference only he and I got, while Laurent's mouth dropped so far I swore he dislocated his jaw.
"I-I cannot, Teacher!" Laurent fervently protested. "This artifact has maintained the sanctity of your life through innumerable conflicts! To forfeit it now would leave you vulnerable! I—"
"Laurent." Future-Me spoke in a tone that brooked no argument, snapping Laurent's mouth shut. For a moment, he sounded like … well, me. Then the weakness returned, and it took everything my alternate had just to keep smiling. "Have you forgotten? Mages are often the first targets on the battlefield, right behind healers. With that new tome, the Risen will run each other over to cut you down. I know I've trained you for such outcomes, but all it takes is a single mistake. If this"—he flicked the Red Ring to Laurent, who caught it on reflex—"saves your life even once, then I won't regret a thing."
The mage was desperate for a counter argument. "As you've said, statistically clerics and priests are more often the targets of opportunity than mages such as myself. Should this ring not go to Brady?"
"I already gave the punk my Cane of Byrna. He'll be fine."
The Cane of What?
"You … Teacher, how many of your treasures have you already given away?"
Future-Me scratched his head awkwardly, a habit I recognized. "Erm …"
"Are you … do you have no intention of accompanying us to Mount Prism?" Laurent asked, horrified by the prospect.
Future-Me flicked the kid on the nose, making Laurent stumble. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Worrywart. I keep saying you've got a bad habit of overthinking things. Yeah, I'm coming with. I promised, remember? But anything can happen between now and then. If worse comes to worst, it's best to have a contingency in place. My stuff packs a wallop, you know! It'd be a shame if they got left behind with me!"
Laurent wrestled up a smile. "A logical precaution. Forgive me for doubting you, Teacher." He slid the Red Ring onto his left thumb without complaint. "I cannot deny my personal relief, as the prospects of my own survival are greatly improved with your gift."
"Part of the reason I gave my stuff to you kids," Future-Me laughed. "So you'll all survive and return to the past together." My future self must've known Laurent fairly well, because he noticed something on the mage's taciturn face and asked, "What's wrong?"
"There is nothing—"
"Poppycock. I've looked after you and the others since you were toddlers, and can read you lot better than the back of my one hand … even if it has seen better days. You've got something on your mind, and it's been bugging you for a while. Fess up."
Laurent sighed. "I fear you have the right of it, Teacher. Of late, I have been … questioning the role I serve. I've always sought to emulate you, to watch out for my dear friends and possibly aid them in their training and endeavors. Yet I am but a mage, practiced in thaumaturgy, while the others are virtuosic in their chosen crafts of combat. Who am I to offer such advice? I … I am not you Teacher, armed with an answer to every question thrust my way. What if my actions serve no purpose but to feed my wanton hubris, and—?"
"That"—Future-Me cut Laurent off—"is exactly what I mean when I say you overthink things. Sure, some of the others find you a bit fussy, like Cynthia, Inigo, and Severa, but even they know you mean well."
"How can you claim as such with so much certainty?"
Future-Me shrugged. "Because I asked them, Worrywart. It's astonishing how much you can learn about people when you sit down and talk to them."
"Sarcasm does not befit you, Teacher."
"I'll have you know your parents thought I was a riot, but that's besides the point. Yeah, some of the other kids think you're a right pain in the ass, but they know you mean well despite it. They know you care for them, and that everything you say is out of concern. So give yourself some damn credit. Besides, you've got a keen mind and a rapier-sharp intellect. Lucina says she's found a lot of your suggestions helpful, but you'd rushed off to continue your people-watching before she could thank you."
"I … I see," Laurent said, standing ever-so-slightly straighter. "Thank you, Teacher. I did not realize how much I longed to hear those words."
"You've been so busy watching out for the others that you neglected yourself. Good thing your lovable teacher's got your back."
Laurent smiled. "Indeed."
"HOWEVER." Future-Me placed his one hand on Laurent's shoulder. Even with only three fingers, I could see them digging into the bespectacled mage like a vice.
"T-Teacher?"
"Nah came to see me last night, complaining about how you're always ogling her from afar … 'undressing' her with your eyes, as she put it. Tell me"—his voice dropped a few octaves, along with the temperature in the library—"what exactly are your intentions towards my daughter?"
… what?
What?!
WHAT?!?
Laurent turned deathly pale. "W-Wait, Teacher! I beg your understanding! These are all baseless accusations!"
"Explain quickly, or else you'll be testing the Red Ring's defensive properties much sooner than you think."
"This is naught but a scurrilous rumor! I hold no untoward inclinations towards her! She has completely misunderstood my intentions!"
"So you don't have a thing for her because she's cute and demure?"
"Scandalous lies besmirching my good name!"
Future-Me continued to glare into the windows of Laurent's trembling soul, while the poor mage was breaking down into a nervous sweat. As for myself, I was still trying to wrap my head around what I'd heard.
Daughter?
Who?
Me?
Then my future self fell back into his chair laughing, "Ha ha ha! You should've seen your face, kid!"
"T-Teacher! Did you … prank me?!"
"And I got you good! Glad to see I've still got it!"
"I honestly feared you planned to eject my bodily self through the nearest window!"
"C'mon, I wouldn't have gone that …" His teasing was interrupted by a light cough … followed shortly by my alternate trying to hack up a lung. The atmosphere shifted in an instant as Laurent rushed to my future self's side in a heartbeat, stricken with dread and panic as Future-Me practically began vomiting black blood all over his emaciated hand.
Seeing myself so wounded, so weak … I didn't … I didn't know what—
~
[Ding!]
I blinked, and found myself standing in the Ylissean desert once more, a notification from the SYSTEM hovering in front of my face.
[Teacher's Tome, Rank: A+]
A magic tome diligently written and assembled by a teacher's love for his student. Each page has been meticulously fashioned from wood vigilantly gathered from the Mila Tree to guarantee longevity, and its ink enhanced with energy freely donated from a half-Manakete. Arcane chants and thaumaturgic formulas has been refined and condensed so that this single tome can contain all the main spells across the three elemental branches.
Might: 15
Hit Rate: 80%
Critical: 20%
Durability: 50/50
Magic Cost: 3
[<Teacher's Tome, Rank: A+> has been added to the SYSTEM's Catalogue!]
That's right, I'd been scanning Laurent's tome before … before I saw a vision of the future, of the Doomed Timeline.
Somehow, a version of myself existed in the original timeline.
I … I needed to think.
"I beg your pardon," Laurent said, "but you've yet to introduce yourself."
"Call me whatever you want," I almost snapped, resisting the urge to pace. Shit, what did this all mean?
"Don't take it personally," Robin said, finding my manner off. I waved, my non-verbal way to telling her it wasn't anything she needed to be concerned about. She frowned, but didn't persist. "None of us know his actual name."
This surprised Laurent. "None of you? Why ever not?"
"He refuses to tell us."
"So I call him Sparky!" Nowi chirped.
"I call him Guardian," Robin replied.
"… Guardian …?" Laurent murmured.
"Yeah, as in the Guardian of the Halidom," Robin explained, finding Laurent's reaction curious, especially when he showed no recognition towards the moniker. "You've never heard of him?"
"I … I confess, I have not."
"What about the Huntsman of Regna Ferox? Or the Silent Fiend of Plegia?"
Ugh, can't you all shut up for two minutes so I could hear myself think?
Laurent cautiously shook his head. "I am unfamiliar with the terms."
"The Guardian was right, you are a long way from home. Where are you from, anyways? Valm?"
"I fear the distance between myself and my home cannot be accurately measured by conventional standards."
"How'd you get here, anyways?" Nowi asked.
My future self called Nah, Nowi's future child, my daughter. Did that mean … did I ...? With Nowi …?
"An odd question. What is the impetus for your inquiry?" Laurent tried to deflect.
Only for Robin to stare him in the eyes and say, "All of us saw you fall from a hole in the sky, along with those things we saw in Plegia."
Laurent jolted. "Plegia has fielded the Risen?"
"Risen?" Robin and Nowi repeated, unfamiliar with the term, as it wouldn't be coined until years later.
Laurent realized he'd put his hat in his mouth, and promptly relocated it to his head. "A … general term for the mobile deceased. But please, answer my query: you have encountered the Risen before?"
Robin nodded. "When the Guardian and I snuck into Plegia, we watched a Grimleal priest order the deaths of some townsfolk and reanimate them into … Risen. The Mad King is using them as a work force, as the dead don't require rest."
"How long ago did you make this discovery?" Laurent asked urgently.
"A year or two, I think."
"Preposterous, to think those abominations have existed for so long … have you seen my companions? I did not brave the portal alone, I was accompanied by dear allies. Have you seen them?"
"Nope, just you," Nowi said as she sidled around Robin to inch closer to the time-traveling mage.
"How could this be? Could the presence of Risen have introduced an unintended variable into the ritual, resulting catastrophic displacement?" Laurent wondered, falling into a bout of quiet muttering.
Seriously? I'm also trying to think here! Can't a guy have some peace and quiet?
"What of the war between Ylisse and Plegia?" he asked. "How long ago did conflict break out?"
"War? What do you mean? There's no war going on, anywhere," Robin said.
"Then … the attempted assassination on the Exalt has yet to occur?"
"I think we'd know if something like that ever happened." Robin was observing Laurent with much more scrutiny, along with a healthy dose of caution as she likely wondered whether he had all his marbles or not.
On the other hand, the time-traveler was truly coming to terms with the weight of her answers. "I'm … I'm early. But by what length of time? What year is it?"
"Dunno, I don't really keep track of stuff like that," Nowi said, giving Laurent's cloak a few cursory sniffs.
"It's 2606, of the Archanean calendar," Robin answered.
I could almost see Laurent's soul fleeing from his hanging mouth, the information hitting him harder than any mortal blow. "Twenty-six … oh-six?"
Robin confirmed this, and it was the killing blow to the time-traveler's sanity. He collapsed to his knees, cracking the glass beneath us. "Three years … I … am three years too early."
Oh crap, that's right. Unlike the other future children, who would arrive shortly after the game's cannon starting point, Laurent was thrown three years further into the past. His arrival here also presented another piece of irrefutable evidence: I was currently occupying Timeline B, and if all went according to script Awakening's storyline would officially start in three year's time.
Nervousness fired through my every nerve. Would the main storyline begin as cannon dictated, or had I mucked around with the timeline so badly that the future was an unrecognizable mess?
"Okay, I feel like we've been very patient with you, but what's going on?" Robin demanded, her hands on her hips. "You, along with a dozen Risen, drop out of a hole in the sky, start asking about a war that's never happened, and then act all melodramatic once you hear what year it is? I'm sorry if I'm coming off as pushy, but you're acting extremely suspicious."
"He's a time-traveler," I blurted, sick and tired of all this verbal dancing when I had my own worries to sort through. "He came from the future, but wound up landing in the wrong year. You're three years off target, aren't you?"
Shock and incredulity warred within Robin's disbelieving eyes, while Laurent acted as though I'd revealed his deepest and darkest secret.
I mean, in a way I sort of did.
"Time travel?" Robin gasped, unable to accept such an answer so easily.
"H-How … how in Naga's good name did you deduce that?" Laurent demanded, scrambling to his feet.
"You mean he's right?!"
Nowi suddenly tackled Laurent, grabbing a fistful of his robes and giving it a deep sniff.
"Nowi! What're you doing?" Robin cried, prying the Manakete off the flushing time-traveler, who was as flummoxed as the rest of us.
"I knew it!" Nowi giddily declared, pointing at the frazzled mage. "You've got a Manakete's scent on you, and it's not mine! Who is it? How'd you meet her? Tell me, tell me, tell me!"
Laurent needed a second to compose himself. "I … confess. I am indeed from the future, granted the opportunity to traverse the eras in an act of what could only be called divine providence. And yes, one of my most stalwart allies and friends is a Manakete, such as yourself. Her name is Nah, and she is my Teacher's daughter."
His admission was a sucker punch to the gut. Future-Me was his teacher, and now he flat out admitted Nah was his respected teacher's daughter … whose mother was none other than Nowi.
I glanced over at my Manakete friend, and asked myself if I ever held any romantic inclinations towards her.
My answer was immediate: Zero! Zilch! Absolute Nada!
So how the hell did I wind up with Nah as my daughter? Wait, she was my future daughter … did that mean if I didn't knock up Nowi then Nah would be paradoxed out of existence?!
Oh God, my head was hurting.
Fucking time travel.
"Nah? What kind of name is Nah?" Nowi said. "Won't that make a bunch of people super confused?"
Laurent and I gave the Manakete a deadpanned glare, because we both knew she was the one who named her daughter. Like hell I'd ever name a child of mine after an informal exclamation … but Nah was my daughter, so …
… I hate this, so much.
"I think we've all had quite the … experience, today," I said before either Robin or Nowi could barrage Laurent with questions. "It's a bit early, but why don't we find a place to set camp. We can use the time to get our thoughts in order, and ask Laurent whatever questions we have over food. Agreed?"
"Food!" Nowi cheered.
"Fine with me," Robin agreed.
Only Laurent protested. "I would most certainly appreciate it if you would not dictate my actions without my input. Not once have I expressed any desire to accompany you."
I leveled the mage a look. "So you want us to ditch you out here?" I gestured at the open desert around us, dotted with patches of glassed sand. "If so, we'll drive off and leave you to it."
That stumped the kid, as he nervously gripped his tome for emotional support. "Please understand my reservations. I have arrived in an unfamiliar time, shortly to be accosted by old foes, and am now beset by inquisitive strangers. Strangers I owe many thanks to, but strangers nonetheless."
He was trying to keep us at arm's length.
"None of us mean you any harm, you damn Worrywart," I scolded.
That one nickname nearly knocked Laurent off his feet. I didn't deliberately use it, as it basically slipped out on its own; mostly because it did a damn good job of describing Laurent to a T. Yet its effect on the time traveler was profound. He grabbed the brim of his wizard hat (given to him by his mother, if I recalled correctly) and pulled it down over his face to hide it away, but it couldn't conceal the lone teardrop that trickled down his cheek.
"Why … do you call me such?" Laurent asked, his tone hoarse with emotion.
I played nonchalant, but inwardly felt like crap. I didn't mean to evoke such a reaction. "Because it's exactly how you're acting. Robin." My friend perked. "Any plans on tying Laurent to a chair and grilling him for info?"
"Tempting, but no," Robin said. "Should he choose to keep his secrets, than that's his prerogative. We are, however, in a desert purported to be a hiding ground for bandits, thus splitting up wouldn't be tactically sound. Please, at least accompany us for the safety provided in numbers."
"Nowi?" I asked.
"Nowi here!"
"Any plans on being mean to our new friend?"
"Nope! Oh, oh! Does he know how to play Duck Duck Dragon?"
I looked to Laurent. "Do you?"
"I am … unfamiliar with the activity," Laurent admitted.
"It's great exercise, so I'm sure it'll be good for you."
Robin gave me a glare, but I pretended not to notice.
"Then I shall endeavor to expand my circle of knowledge," Laurent decided, readjusting his headwear. "Allow me to accompany you."
Good, that settled that. "Should we set camp here?"
"Best not, there's a chance that everything which took place here could've attracted the wrong sort of attention," Robin said.
"Even better," I replied brightly. "We can do some bandit purging as a post-meal exercise."
Laurent was a bit put off by my eagerness to cleanse bandit scum from the world.
"More like they'll recognize you on sight and go underground," Robin corrected.
I scowled. "Well that's no fun."
"We passed an oasis an hour back. Let's rest there."
"An hour on your most fascination transportation device, correct?" Laurent asked, studying the Master Cycle Zero with a scholar's zeal. "How does it achieve such speeds without a discernible source of propulsion?"
"Later. For now, let's get moving."
"Ah, I understand. But will your apparatus be capable of transporting our combined weight?"
The time traveler had a point. While I was pretty sure the Master Cycle Zero could carry us all, fitting all four of us on a single motorcycle might prove awkward.
I glanced at Robin, who understood my intent instantly and groaned. "Must we?"
"It's the most efficient way to go about this."
Robin buried her face in her hands. "I hate how right you are."
I grinned. "Trace, on."
Laurent shielded his eyes as the magic circuits in my outstretch armed activated. Part by part, the pieces of the Divine Beast were assembled through my Projection until a magical copy of the Master Cycle Zero was stationed beside the original.
I'd been giving Robin pointers on how to ride the Sheikah motorcycle for the last few months, saying it was best she learn should the occasion ever arise. She resisted my initial attempts, until I promised we'd learn at her pace. It took a bit of time, but Robin could comfortably ride the Master Cycle Zero from point A to point B; provided she never went over 30 MPH.
"H-H-HOW?!" Laurent gaped, darting to the Projection and running his hands over the Divine Beast, like he was trying to see if it was merely an illusion. His fingers touched its horse-motif horn, and was startled when he encountered physical resistance.
"My magic," I said simply. "It allows me to create a copy of almost any non-living object."
Laurent stared as if he were truly seeing me for the first time. "I can scarcely wrap my mind around the mechanisms of this mesmerizing phenomenon! What are the underlying principles? To replicate an object down to the most infinitesimal details, your mind must compute an incalculable quantity of data! And you say you produce these replications through your own magic? Fascinating! How do you attain solidity from such a nebulous source of energy, let alone reproduce the physical properties of your desired subject?"
"Through magic."
The face Laurent made was priceless.
~
Laurent rode with me, leaving Robin to ferry Nowi. We went slow, for Robin's sake; Laurent wanted to witness the Master Cycle Zero's full speed, but couldn't with Robin driving like she was in a residential zone.
It took us a bit longer to reach the oasis because of this, but it gave Robin more time to practice driving the Master Cycle Zero so I didn't mind.
Our tent was set up near the edge of the natural spring; a large pavilion, actually, purchased during our time in Regna Ferox. Using [Alteration] I gave it the trait [Self-Assembly], which allowed the large shelter to assemble and disassemble itself all on its own. It had six legs, logs sanded into equal sizes before being varnished, and its canopy was sturdy enough to stave off the unforgiving Feroxi climate.
It was plenty spacious, housing Robin, Nowi, and I easily. Adding another was no issue at all.
Nowi was currently badgering Laurent about his Manakete friend while Robin watched from the side, dissecting his every word. Laurent made it clear he wasn't going to tell us anything about the future, remaining tight lipped no matter what Robin asked. She pointed out the situation was unmistakably dire, else Laurent and his friends would've never risked returning to past. The time traveler conceded Robin had the right of it, yet his decision would not change.
So Robin was choosing to form her own theories based on what Laurent wasn't saying, along with what he accidentally revealed.
I was prepping linner (lunch/dinner), the rhythmic cutting of vegetables and sizzling of seared steak helping to sooth my mind. I needed something to keep my hands busy, because my head was hurting trying to make sense of what I'd learned.
Let's start with the horrible news: despite a version of me existing in Timeline A, it still devolved into the Doomed Timeline with the Fell Dragon's full revival, and Jesus Christ did somebody mess me up badly. What could've happened to me? Did Grima chew me up before spitting me back out?
How did a version of myself fail to prevent Grima's resurrection? How'd I drop the ball so badly? Did Future-Me try to avoid the main cast, as I'd initially attempted when I first awoke in Ylisse, never knowing he was in Timeline A? Or worse, did his SYSTEM (as there was no way he didn't have one) experience an [ERROR] of its own that crippled its functions and left him helpless against the encroaching evil?
And did the same fate await me as well?
I tried to stop my hands from shaking, but it was hard; so very hard.
I searched the history of Laurent, his tome, and the Red Ring he wore (the incredible artifact responsible for his impressive defense and resistance), but failed to acquire any new insights into what sort of catastrophe had befallen upon my alternate. Laurent was born after the Fell Dragon was revived, his tome created long after that, and the Red Ring wasn't providing me with any significant insights.
What I did learn was that my alternate self joined the Shepards alongside Robin, helped defeat Plegia during the initial war, fought alongside Chrom as he faced down Walhart the Conqueror … and then Grima was revived. The important details were frustratingly absent, making me want to punch a coconut out of frustration.
But some info was better than none. My alternate hadn't shied away from the main storyline, having gotten involved with the Shepards, yet despite his knowledge of the events to come he still failed to stop the Fell Dragon's revival. How? Why?
Still, there was some good news, if I could call it that. The continued existence of Laurent's Red Ring was proof that the events of Timeline B, the one we were currently in, did not affect Timeline A, the future he came from. The Red Ring obviously originated from a Zelda game I'd never played, so the only way it could've ended up in my alternate's hands was if his SYSTEM gave it to him through a randomized Milestone reward. And now that I had a copy of the Red Ring in my SYSTEM's Catalogue, there was no point in asking for it from my fourth Milestone reward, proving that the decisions I made here couldn't influence or change the established events of the Doomed Timeline.
Meaning I didn't have to worry about paradoxing Nah out of existence by not marrying Nowi. That's a weight off my back. Even if she was over a 1,000 years old, Nowi looked like a child! Stupid Fire Emblem and their stupid slow-aging dragons.
But how was I supposed to react when the half-Manakete inevitably came to the present in three year's time? Treat her like a stranger? In my defense, that's basically what she was to me. Yet the opposite was far from true, as based on Laurent's initial reaction when we found him, Future-Me failed to make it through the time portal, meaning he was likely as dead as a doornail. In other words, Nah just lost her father. How devastated would she be when she saw a younger version of her dad, but I gave her the cold shoulder?
Ugh, what happened to living life one day at a time? When'd stuff start becoming so complicated? Oh yeah, when the game's cannon knocked on my door, kicked me in the balls, and told me to look forward to the main event.
I was dicing a carrot extra hard, venting my irritation on the undeserving vegetable.
Okay … okay … breathe. I could deal with this, one problem at a time.
First, list what I know for certain.
Laurent's drop-in meant the game's official storyline would be starting in three years, provided I hadn't butterflied things too much already. And even if I did, at the very least that's when the other future children would arrive, along with future … Grima …
Slice.
I glanced down at my hand. It was bleeding, slashed open by a careless chop of my cooking knife. But I didn't care.
Because I remembered.
Future Grima would discover the children of the Doomed Timeline escaping into Naga's portal to the past, and follow them to ensure their plans were met with miserable failure.
A version of the Fell Fucking Dragon was coming, in three years time. What was the first thing that bastard did in the game? It arrived weakened, its powers destabilized by the temporal travel, so it sought to move its consciousness into the Robin of the present.
The attempt would fail, because Robin wasn't yet strong or prepared enough to accept the mind and powers of a fully resurrected Grima, but as a result … all her memories would be completely erased.
Becoming the amnesiac tactician of the Shepards.
All the time we spent together; gone.
The memories we shared; gone.
Her pain, her trials, her newfound resolution; gone.
The best friend I knew would be wiped away, reverted to a blank slate.
And I didn't know how I was going to stop it.
~Current Stats~
NAME: ???
AGE: 23
CLASS: ???
LEVEL: 18
EXP: 44 / 100
HIT POINTS: 50 / 50
STRENGTH: [25]
MAGIC: 21
SKILL: [24]
SPEED: [24]
LUCK: 0
DEFENSE: 20
RESISTANCE: [24]
~Current Skills~
PERSONAL SKILL 1: Projection, Trace Version
PERSONAL SKILL 2: Inventory of the Wild Hero
P̶͈͍͐̃ERSONAL SK̶͔̞̯͑ILL 3: [E̶̢͒̎͝R̸̗̫̝̫͋̏̉Ŗ̶̯͂̒O̸̲̘̜͍̎́̓R̸̺͕͌̚͠!]
SKILL 1: Too Angry To Die!
SKILL 2: Reinforcement
SKILL 3: Poison Immunity
SKILL 4: N/A
SKILL 5: N/A
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone