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#like if i were in charge you would catch it like the lobsters and ducks and you could put a dredging net in the lake
frecht · 1 month
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is there a hay day fandom on here. can we discuss how fucked up it is that clay is a plant that you grow
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esandcasg · 3 years
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Chapter 6: Smell of Fear
I sat on a rocky outcrop on Sia Kangri, taking a moment to absorb the stunning view of the sun setting over the Karakoram range in front on me. Pakistan lay directly ahead, Tajikistan to the left. It was like walking down Highbridge Road in Aylesbury, a joke that my dad would probably be proud of. The jagged snowcapped peaks extended what appeared to be endlessly into the distance, the sun setting behind them casting a shadow into the mountain mist that had started to roll in during the last hour.
I squinted against the harsh, low light, my head throbbing somewhat due to the altitude and dehydration after a day’s climbing. I looked away from the panorama in front of me, my focus eventually landing on the ridge that I just scaled. The first ridge in what would be a groundbreaking sequence, and the start of the Gasherbrum traverse. I let out a small frustrated sigh as Andrew and Ifan finally appeared from behind a small rise that lay about sixty meters away.
Temperatures were dropping and I felt the cold slowly seeping into my sedentary muscles. I stood up and tried to shake my limbs a bit, encouraging some blood flood and warmth through my extremities. Ifan’s fingers would soon be transparent. I looked down at my Garmin Fenix 6 and checked the elevation, then compared this to the GPS reading from my Samsung Galaxy Z Fold2 (*product placement oppos for the future film franchise). We were just above 6000m, some 1400m from the peak of Sia Kangri. After scaling this climb we would drop down into the valley and take on the next one in the sequence. Whatever Andrew decided it to be.
The combined sounds of boots crunching on gravel and wheezing grew louder, and I turned to see Andrew and Ifan arrive. I picked up my bag.
“Okay, shall we go?” I asked eagerly.
“Fuck off,” replied Andrew bluntly.
Resigned to being here for a while longer, I sat back down and got the latest Jack Reacher novel out of my bag, accepting what would be a fairly unspectacular addition to the franchise, much like most things Tom Cruise touches these days.
I noticed Ifan scanning the area. “Maybe this isn’t a bad area to set up camp for the night?” He asked.
“Yeah,” agreed Andrew. “We can’t get over the summit and back down in low light anyway, so best to wait here until day break.”
I let out another sigh. If only these guys had committed to the same cycling based training schedule that I had. I needed Johnny here to push the pace, but the issue would be that he would then invite himself along to the Sia Kangri tavern later that evening.
Outvoted two-to-one, I acquiesced and started to unpack the base camp tent, a huge 50 foot diameter circular dome that would house our mess and sleeping quarters for the night, along with kitchen, washing facilities, jacuzzi and toilets. The latter wouldn’t be used by Andrew, of course.
Half an hour later we had camp set up, and Ifan and I went about preparing supper for the evening. Ifan hooked up his small Sony speakers, something of a tradition as they had accompanied us on numerous trips, including Swanage and Tanzania. Back then they gave a low quality, tinny type feel to the music, but a series of recent firmware updates had led to them to produce a high quality sound, worthy of any Bose flagship range. Ifan put on his favourite Christmas tune – East 17’s Stay Another Day – and cranked up the bass, the resulting vibrations creating an avalanche that fell down the face of the mountain, taking some goat herders with it.
“Where’s Andrew?” I asked Ifan, whilst preparing some freshly caught mountain lake lobster.
“He’s outside having a FaceTime with Ribet,” He replied.
“Again?”
“Yup, still catching up on homework from sixth form French,” he explained.
I crept over to the base camp door and listened intently on the conversation outside.
“Oui, j'écoute Radio Authentique. Oui, j'ai noté les nouveaux mots et expressions,” I heard him say, courtesy of Google Translate.
Happy that he seemed absorbed in his latest bollocking, I headed back over and rejoined Ifan.
“Okay, tell me.” I began.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, is Andrew still oblivious to the plan? Is he buying what you are telling him? You’ve spent the whole day walking with him, so you must have something to update me on.”
“I…” Ifan began, before stopping. I looked at him. Conflict was etched all over his face.
“What is it?” I asked
“I can’t do this.”
“Sure you can,” I said. “Who knows, you might like it.”
“Adam, this is your fucking wake-up call, man. We can’t do this to Andrew.”
I turned and faced him, pointing the chopping knife at his face. “It was you who agreed to this deal with Craven, not me.”
Our conversation was stopped instantly by the sound of a blast outside, coupled with Andrew shouting. Ifan and I looked at each other, before turning and sprinting for the exit. Learning from Jimmy Hill on sports day all those years ago, I stuck my chin out and pipped Ifan to the line, subjecting him to yet another “L” that he would be reminded of for the next 25+ years.
Bursting out into the fresh mountain air we were met with Andrew sitting on the floor, his back to a rock. Bits of a smashed smartphone lay everywhere.
“Get down!!” Screamed Andrew, pointing down the ridge. Partially hidden behind the same small rise that I watched Andrew and Ifan scale just twenty minutes ago was a large silver metallic robot. It had a round bulbous head with a series of optics and lights all the way around, and five manipulator arms underneath. It seemed to hover over the ground instead of standing firmly on it.
A red laser blast erupted from the robot, which impacted in the ground between Ifan and I. As ice and rock particles sprayed all over us, we dove behind the same rock that Andrew was using for cover.
“What the hell is that thing?” Shouted Andrew.
“It’s one of Craven’s probe droids,” replied Ifan, his hairy face covered in snow and ice in a comical fashion.
Andrew reached into his bag and drew out his laser blaster that he had constructed in physics, a device that ultimately had been used to save the life of Leighton from terrorists in the 1997 Sir Henry Floyd Grammar School Science Block Terror Attack. Why he bothered, I don’t know.
Andrew charged the weapon and stood, sending a series of blasts towards the droid.
He missed.
He ducked back down as it fired back. I felt the impact in the rock on my back, and the three of us were covered in shards of black and brown phyllite. Andrew stood once more and fired through the cloud of dust and gunpowder smoke. The red laser blast hit the ground near the droid.
It exploded. Even from sixty meters I felt the heat of the blast on my face, as a ball of fire was launched into the twilight before dispersing.
Ifan and I stood slowly, standing shoulder to shoulder with Andrew, looking down the ridge.
“I didn’t hit it,” Andrew explained. “It must have self-detonated.”
We were all thinking the same thing, but no one wanted to say it.
Eventually Ifan spoke up. “Craven knows we are here.”
Andrew threw the smoking laser gun onto his bag, ran over to the tent and started pulling tent pegs out of the ground.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What does it look like?” Andrew shot back. “We can’t stay here.”
By now it was almost completely dark, and the night winds – something renowned in this part of the world and not just made up as I wrote that sentence – were picking up.
“Think about it, they are not going to send anyone up now, not in these conditions. We’ll pack up early and leave at first light.”
Andrew seemed to relax somewhat. He placed the pegs back in the lush grass. “Ribet is going to be pissed though, my phone got hit by the initial blast.”
As Andrew and Ifan headed back into the tent, I stared back down at the smoking probe droid, wondering if I could trust my own advice. What was Craven doing? Had he altered his plans? Why send a droid when we were following his instructions? Things started to blur and I struggled to recollect our last conversation. It felt like… like…
My mind started wandering.
*
I had woken slowly, becoming aware of sounds and movement around me. I had the feeling of being cold. Of being in a dark, damp room, almost claustrophobic in nature, with the roof pressing down on me.
As I became more conscious, pain shot through my body. It felt like there wasn’t a square inch that wasn’t stimulating pain receptors and shooting them through my nervous system. But my hip was the worst. It felt like I’d woken in the middle of surgery. I reached down and touched the epicenter of the pain, my fingers feeling something warm and sticky. I lifted my hand to inspect it and was somewhat relieved to see it was blood and nothing more suspect. What was going on? I lifted my head and noted that I appeared to be in some sort of cave. I exhaled sharply, my breath fogging in front of me in the cold air.
A man stood with his back to me on the other side of the cavern, seemingly oblivious to my now regained consciousness. He wore an apron over old mountaineering clothes, transfixed by something on the bench in front of him. He clocked movement behind him and turned.
“Ah, you are awake,” he said in a thick French accent.
As he turned I saw that it was one of those novelty aprons with a picture of 6-pack-abs and a stuck on cock’n’balls.
I tried to get up, but an excruciating blast of pain shot through my head. I cried out, and he rushed over and pushed me back onto the table that I had been laying on, the apron cock draped flaccidly over my shoulder like a scene from a stag do on Mallorca.
“Where am I?” Was all I could manage, panic flaring. My brain was thick, thoughts seemingly taking a long time to process. But most worryingly I couldn’t remember anything.
“You have had an accident, you fell off K2,” he began, before showing me a small round metallic item, about the size of a AAAA battery. “A map of the Himalayan mountains, why was it in your hip?”
He proceeded to press a button on the device and the famous peaks and other landmarks were projected onto the wall on the cave. These I just about managed to drag out of the depths of my submerged memory. Except there seemed to be a series of lines connecting the peaks, nothing that I had seen before or had any memory of.
“Why do you have this?” He asked again. Blood pumped in my ears. The coppery taste of adrenaline filled my mouth. I tried to get back up again.
“You need rest,” he said, trying to push me down once more, but this time coming up against more resistance. “I am your friend. Who are you? What is your name? What’s your name?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Oh God,” I managed, before collapsing back on the bed.
The walls of the cave spun and everything went black.
After I regained consciousness again, he had introduced himself to me – as with all French men – as Jean-Claude, and helped nurse me back to some sort of health over the next two weeks. He explained that he had found me at the base of the hockey stick gully on K2, having fallen what he thought was a long way, judging by my appearance and scuffed up green Arc’teryx jacket. He’d brought me back to his man-cave, just off the Negrotto Pass, and patched me and my jacket up, but couldn’t guarantee the same level of water-tightness and breathability as before. What he was doing here, I had no idea. He said ordinarily he was captain on a fishing trawler in the Mediterranean, 60 miles off the coast of Marseille to be exact. But I didn’t press it any further.
Asides from the headaches that refused to die down, I started to feel well again and eventually got around to the question that I had been dreading asking.
“How long was I unconscious?”
He blew out his cheeks. “About three years.”
My knees went weak momentarily. “Three years?” I repeated, shocked.
“I’m just joking, just a few hours.”
I had spent the next few days and the last of our time together perusing maps of K2, desperately trying to discover who I was and what had happened to me. Eventually, I found a lead.
“I think that if you found me here,” I said pointing to a spot on the map, “based on the winds and the glacier current at the time, it means that I must have fallen from the bottleneck.”
I once again projected the map onto the wall. “And these lines, I think they are tunnels. I think I was trying to find this one on K2 that runs to the bottleneck.”
He considered my theory for a moment before nodding.
He’d offered to drive me up to The Shoulder at 8000m. That was as far as he could take me, but it was only a short walk from the car park up to the bottleneck at that point. As he struggled to find a parking spot - and had scoffed at the £5 charge anyway - I jumped out of the car and had shaken his hand.
He handed me the apron. “It’s not much, but it will get you to where you need to go.”
“Thanks for everything,” I had said, accepting his offer, before turning towards the bottleneck. I took a deep breath and set off.
*
The next morning, we had set off at first light. I am still not sure what time of the year this story is set, so that could either 4am or 7am depending on what season we are talking about here. But either way, there’d been a slight delay as we had to wait for Ifan to take his latest in a long line of topless selfies, in order to satisfy his 1.2m followers on Instagram @rippedmountainman.
But finally we were ready, and influencer sponsors were satisfied. We scaled the remaining 1400m of Sia Kangri in just a few hours - barely even acknowledging the summit - and started making our way down the razor thin ridge that would lead us down towards the Abruzzi Glacier, where we would take the next peak. We reminded ourselves that we weren’t here for peak bagging, but instead were on a diplomatic mission.
After descending approximately one thousand meters (my Garmin had packed in so I wasn’t completely sure) we stopped for our first break, just as the path dropped down onto the side of the ridge and ran across the traverse. High walls on one side, a two thousand meter drop on the other. In between was a narrow path just half a meter wide in places. Andrew had christened it ‘Liam’s Tramline’.
We all felt it wise to recharge before attempting this technical traverse, so Andrew fired up his snow-melter and presented us with tea in custom made cups – foam inner and plastic outer. They were made from recycled mountaineering boots, giving the tea a certain sweaty sock aftertaste, though contained critical electrolytes. It tasted pretty good.
Rehydrated and recharged, we stood up to set off once more, slinging out rucksacks over our shoulders.
Ten meters onto Liam’s Tramline, I raised a gloved hand to the rock wall next to me to balance myself. I turned momentarily to check the progress of Ifan behind me when the rock by my fingertips exploded
I stumbled back a step in surprise, almost losing my footing on the narrow passageway. But then the sound caught up and finally hit us; the crack of a high velocity sniper rifle that reverberated around the mountain valley after the initial sound waves.
“Sniper!” I shouted, turning once more to Ifan. He stood with a confused look on his face, one usually reserved for seeing a girl naked in his 20s. I ran at him and bowled him over. As we fell backwards, the next slug hit his rucksack, spraying couscous granules and bits of cucumber all over us. We landed in a heap on the floor, partially protected by a rock. I rolled off him and scurried over to the rock, hopefully giving full cover or at least making myself as small a target as possible. Ifan joined me.
“Where’s Andrew?” Ifan asked. I looked around. Andrew was already in action, not yet on to Liam’s Tramline, he raced towards us, simultaneously sliding behind the rock whilst drawing his rifle from his bag. Not only did he have an army camp bed, but all the moves too.
For the second day running we found ourselves taking cover behind a rock as someone took aim at us. How can the same shit happen to the same guy twice?
“Another probe droid?” Andrew asked.
“No, this is different.” Ifan replied, licking the lost bits of couscous up from the ground. “I think it’s one of Craven’s Bounty Hunters.”
“Where is he?” Andrew had asked.
I dared to peer over the top of the rock. About one hundred meters away was a ridge. I saw a muzzle flash, and quickly dipped down below the rock as the round slammed into the rock where my head had been just a moment ago.
“He’s on that rise,” I said. “He obviously waited until we got onto Liam’s Tramline as he knew we’d be sitting ducks here. Lay down some suppressing fire and I will try and draw him out.”
I reached into my bag, but realised I was only carrying my 15 litre daypack, and Ifan was carrying the rest of my crap in his 257 litre backpack. He handed me my assault rifle, but I saw that it had taken the biggest impact from the couscous explosion and was now useless. I would have to settle for my double-barrel shotgun.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I said, loading some shells.  
Andrew rolled to the side and started firing at the sniper as I made a dash for the next area of cover; a group of trees around twenty meters away. I felt the rounds fizz past my head, the sound of them hitting the trees and ground around me. I dove for cover, and lifted my head. I couldn’t see the rise, so I took the brave assumption that he couldn’t see me either. I got into a crouch and started to head towards the rise. I anticipated that he would assume that I would double back on him and would cut me off, so my plan was to double bluff him.
I came out in a clearing that appeared to be an overgrown field, covered in snow and frost. I stilled for a minute. I had lost him. I started to doubt my plan. What if he’d double bluffed me? Should I triple bluff him or do a bluff within a bluff? Would this start to become like Inception if I did that?
Suddenly I saw him move through the long grass, about thirty meters away. I raised the shotgun and fired, hitting him in the shoulder that spun him around before dropping him. He rose once more, aiming a pistol in my direction and I fired once again, this time hitting him in the chest and putting him down for good.
I reloaded and approached with caution.
“Where is it?” I asked him, scanning the area around where he lay. “Where’s the weapon?”
I located it just behind him and picked it up. I crouched down next to him. He was struggling to get up onto his elbows. “How many do you have out here?”
He looked up at me. He was around forty, with steel rimmed glasses and spikey hair that made him look like a professor. Blood seeped from the wounds to his shoulder and chest
Struggling to breathe, he said “I work alone, like you.”
“What are you talking about?”
He ignored my question. “Do you get the headaches?”
I thought of the near constant headaches that I’d had since my accident on K2.
“I get such bad headaches, especially at night when driving,” he continued.
The life was running out of him. I desperately needed some answers.
“Who are you? Did Craven send you?”
“Look at this,” he said, once again ignoring my questions. “Look at what they make you give.”
With that he collapsed back onto the grass and groaned in pain. I turned away not wanting to see the end.
I rejoined Andrew at the top of Liam’s Tramline. He was making tea, stirring it with a willow wand. He looked up at me expectantly.
“He’s dead,” I stated flatly. I looked around. “Where’s Ifan?”
“I don’t know, he seemed to get spooked. He ran off down the ridge,” he said, pointing with his tea cup, brown liquid sloshing over the side slightly.
I scanned the horizon but couldn’t see him. I exhaled.
“Okay, Andrew,” I began. “Craven knows where we are. Do we keep going with our original plan, or do we find a new route? And what should we do with Ifan?”
He considered this for a moment, before leaning to the side and letting rip with a pretty wet fart.
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nyxflheim · 7 years
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Swapping Scales- Chapter 2
You know, roleswapping is harder than I thought it’d be.
Other chapters: Prologue Chapter 1
Rating: T (May go up in the future)
"Gods, you're scorched! We ordered a tactician, not a lobster!"Aversa said as she put this strange substance on my arm. It burned more than my skin had before. If it was supposed to help, why on Earth did it hurt so much? I channeled my inner dragon and began hissing in utter agony. I tried to move my arm away from Aversa, but she had a vice grip. "Oh stop moving and hissing! It's just aloe!"
"I think our tactician might be rabid! Nyahahaha-oof!" Henry looked down at my tome on his lap. When Aversa giggled, I figured that this was okay. Yes, this was good.
"Come on, stop picking on him, he might throw a tome at you," Robin laughed. I mean, she wasn't wrong. Tome-throwing feels very nice. After you do it, people shut up, and it doesn't use any charges. It's a win-win situation. I went over to collect my tome, and Henry, gave it back, the ever present grin on his face. I swear, there has to be a way to get that smile off his face. It was creepy. I didn't need memories to figure that one out.
We continued walking for what seemed like forever through the ever shifting evil sands, even after the sun set until Henry stopped. "I think that's far enough, what do ya think, Robin?" He then turned to Robin. I tried to will Robin to agree to stop, and if the look on Aversa's face was anything to go by, so was she.
"We're close enough, and I'm sure if we continue, Chrom and Aversa will mutiny." The two of us heaved a sigh of relief. Any longer of walking in this sand, and Robin might've been right.
As we set up our camps, a breeze passed through. It got in my cloak and I shivered. For a place so wickedly hot, it cooled down very fast. Did they give us anything to survive the cold? I hope so. How else are we supposed to survive the cold? Maybe I should've listened to Aversa when she had said it got cold in the desert .
Henry pulled stick after stick out of his robe, making a rudimentary pile. Suddenly, everyone looked to me. "What?" I looked around at all their expecting eyes. What could they want from me?
"You have a Fire tome. Light the fire." Aversa beckoned to the pile. The warm runes appeared around my hand again. The pile burst into flames. Everyone got close to the fire. Clearly this fire was safe even though I had used this tome to kill people earlier. As I inched closer, the fire popped. Why was everyone so calm? Wasn't this magical fire? Wasn't that dangerous?
I sat by the fire, and the first thing I noticed, was the simple burning sensation on my skin. It hurt much like the aloe had, but in a different way. I stuck my hand at the flame to understand more of how they were different in their pain. Before I could touch the flames, Robin motioned her hand by my face. "Hey Chrom, you want some jerky?" At that moment, I realized my stomach had been making some strange sounds. I guess I was hungry. The second she offered some of that jerky, I quickly grabbed it and scarfed it down. "Maybe Henry was on to something." So grabbing things like that wasn't socially acceptable.
"Sorry," I mumbled under my breath. The look of relief that washed over the three of their faces was priceless. This was what you do when you take something. You say sorry.
I kept my head down as  I continued to scarf down the food. It felt good, if not a bit dry. But everything in the desert was dry, so some part of me was learning to expect that. Still food was food. The fire was nice and warm, if it didn't burn against my skin, just a little. Yet I had grown used to the burning. The taste of the food was new. It was nice, and I couldn't help but love it. Maybe in another life, this would have been my favorite food.
I could almost see it. Robin was there, but she was the tactician. There was a delicate-looking blonde girl, but something told me that she wouldn't react well to being told that. There was also a knight, a huge man, that looked guarded, as if he didn't trust Robin. How could you not trust Robin? She is literally the most genuine I have ever met. I can just tell by her eyes. Those are eyes that just don't lie. We were laughing about how the delicate one didn't like jerky. "Hey Chrom! Hey, lobster-face!" I was pulled from that silly daydream by Aversa. As I looked over, she pointed up.
As I looked at the stars, I didn't notice much of anything. "Yeah? They're stars. What about it?" Was there something I was just missing? She sighed and shook her head.
“Constellations, Chrom. The stars, they form pictures of legends. I figured you might want to hear about them, since you have no memory and all?" That was extremely considerate of her. I nodded my head and moved closer. She pointed up at the sky again. "See that one over there? That's Cadmus sealing away the deceitful Naga. The lance he used is the same one my sister uses." I saw Robin puff out a bit in pride at that. Must be a big deal. I had no idea why a Goatherd would have such an important weapon, but maybe that was normal. Aversa pointed to another group of stars. "That one is Prince Innes and his sister Princess Tana sealing the Demon King Formetiis. You know I always wondered why they sealed them away instead of killing them. Only one legend did that, the constellation is over there. It's Princess Azura destroying the Silent God, Anankos. You know, we met some strangers right before stumbling onto you. One of them claimed to be Princess Azura in the flesh. Robin and I believed her, but the killjoy over there didn't. She actually reminded me a lot of you. Blue hair, got lost in thought a lot, pretty good at tactics. I hope she's doing okay." She looked up at the sky. Was she upset? I put my hand on her shoulder, in a manner that I hope meant comfort. She smiled back. "Thanks. Anyways, there's a lot of other legends. Like Lady Lyn, and her quest to find her grandfather after he went missing! With her best friend Lady Florina at her side, and the nomadic Lord Eliwood, they put a stop to Nergal's plans and slayed the dragons! That one's my favorite."
"Personally I prefer the one about Prince Innes and Princess Tana." Robin chimed in.
"I like the one about Princess Azura! That one's really weird, because there's three versions! No one can agree on which version is the right one! I like the one where she she sides against the family that raised her!" I looked at Henry in abject horror. How could you side against the ones who raised and loved you? Then again, I wouldn't know anything about it. I couldn't even remember if I had a family.
"Can I hear more about the one with Cadmus?" That was the one that drew me the most.
The other three looked amongst themselves. "How about we get a book on legends when we get back to the capital? I'd love to tell you, but it's gotten rather late, and we'll need our rest if we intend to get back to the capital by midday tomorrow." I couldn't argue with such sound logic, that and now the day's excitement was catching up to me. The four of us quickly extinguished our fire as we all set up the two tents for the night. Henry insisted I stay with him, and I couldn't find it in me to argue. It had never crossed my mind to spend the night with the sisters, because they're sisters. I headed to my shared tent, and laid down. I expected to have issues sleeping with all that had happened, but instead, sleep came easy.
As my vision focused, I saw I was in a very bright place. It looked different from the church I had seen earlier in the village. Robin rushed to engage a blonde woman. Robin's lance was pushed away by what seemed to be tendrils of light. The blonde woman threw a blast of pure light at Robin, who only ducked and rolled. The woman vanished in the dust as the spell hit the ground where Robin had been. All I could do was charge up a powerful Fire spell. "Up there!" Robin yelled as the spell I had been charging flew up to where the woman was.
Out of the blue, Robin was hit by the light tendril spell, sending her flying into a pillar. She used her lance to prop herself up. As she did that, the blonde woman began to charge the light blast spell again. I began to charge my Fire spell again. As the woman threw the spell at Robin, I charged out and countered with my Fire spell. The two thankfully canceled each other out. The woman glared at me, the ice in her eyes would have been enough to stop me if I had not been furious that she attacked my friend. Thankfully, she was far enough away that she couldn't pull such a feat again.
"This is it! Let's show destiny what's what, and prove that you're one of us!" Robin stated with confidence. It was rousing, truly no wonder she was a General. General? Wait what? I had no time to focus on that detail as we ran forward to defeat the blonde woman. As she turned to face us, Robin pulled me behind a pillar. Cover, what a good idea. We had no idea how far her range was. When nothing happened, I decided to poke my head out. The woman was just staring in our direction and smiling. It was unnerving.
This whole situation had a sense of foreboding, like something was about to go horribly wrong. I nodded at Robin, who dashed ahead, while I watched her back. "Oh? What silly lambs, thinking you can change fate." Fury boiled in my blood. How could she just talk like that? We were going to win, and the world was going to be all right again. Robin threw her lance at the woman. It hit her square in the shoulder. Have fun trying to cast spells now. I then cast one of my Fire spells at her, causing her to slouch over. She looked pissed. Robin ran up, grabbed her lance and jammed it in the woman's abdomen. She yanked it back out, almost slicing the woman in half. Brutal, in the most satisfying way.
The woman took two steps back before falling on her knees, as she began to fade in a mass of blue. Robin looked back, both of us brimming with joy over our victory, until I noticed something. The woman was charging up one final spell. "This will never be over! ROT IN HELL!" Without even thinking, I pushed Robin out of the way, and took the full force of the spell. I flew back from the impact, rolling a few times. When I opened my eyes, Robin was already by my side, helping me up.
"Chrom? Are you all right?" I nodded slowly, my head pounding. She smiled. "Well, that's a wrap. I couldn't have done it without you, you know." She looked over to the quickly vanishing mass of blue. "It's over. We can finally get some peace. I can't wait..." Suddenly, the pounding in my head turned my vision red. I lurched forward, causing Robin to look back to me. "Hey! What's wrong?" Robin said, concern clearly written on every feature. "Give me a second and I'll get someone to- UGH!" A look of agony crossed her face. She took a step back, and I could see a flash of fire in her chest. That was impossible! We had defeated the woman! I then looked down at my own hand, the last licks of flames fading. It was me who had done that.
"This... This wasn't you who did this. Please... go while you still can. Run." At that, Robin fell to the ground, dead. I should be horrified. This is my friend! But instead, I let out the most wicked laugh that I ever heard. It all faded to black after that.
I awoke with a start, right into a hand with runes surrounding it. I looked up and there was Henry, all righteous fury and no smile to be seen. So you could get rid of the smile. I just wished I had never found that out.
"Where are they?" He basically growled at me. A sinking feeling settled in my gut. It didn't take a genius to know how "they" meant. My nightmare flooded back into my memories. What if something happened to either of them? I got up, careful to avoid the hand that was pointed at me.
He kept the hand level with me, poised to strike if I so much as said the wrong thing.I raised my hands in front of me. "Let's just calm down and look for them. I don't think they could have gotten that far." I took a few steps towards the entrance of the tent. At that moment, as if by fate, the ground began shaking. I ran out to see a vivid purple hole in the sky and some of the desert frozen over. "Like maybe over there?" I looked over at Henry. He just nodded and we ran over to the frozen wasteland. Please let Robin and Aversa be okay.
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