Fanfiction Misc. Odds & Ends

I've been suffering from a bad case of writers block recently that has pretty much put all of my stories on hold for the time being (I'm making very slow process on the next chapter of Super Ridley Bros. and will get back to the next unfinished chapter of Becoming a Champion after that). Until I finally snap out of this, I've decided to start posting bits and pieces of stuff that I've written over the years but haven't shared for one reason or another. This will include first chapters of stories that I decided not to finish, short stories that never got past the first draft, or even just story ideas that I liked but never got around to writing out, as well as bits of information about what these fledgling stories could have been and/or why I never finished them. Hopefully going over some of my older unfinished work will help be get back into the mood to write my ongoing stuff.
First up, we have the first chapter of a Castlevania fanfic called Reign of Sorrow. This story would have been a sequel to Dawn of Sorrow, following the game's bad ending. As such, this story heavily spoils the game, so I wouldn't recommend reading if you want to play it without knowing what happens. Also note that this is darker and more violent than the stuff I usually write, but still mostly at a mild PG-13 level at best.

Spoiler: Castlevania: Reign of Sorrow

Darkness. Blood. An endless abyss of chaos and indescribable horror. I could feel the very essence of my being tearing apart and melting away into the sea of nothingness that lay before me. Everything went cold. My whole body was numb and limp. It was at this moment… that I was reborn.

As I opened my eyes again for the first time, the world around me came back into view. Before me stood the wench, staring at me with hope and pride in her gaze. It was sickening. I could feel power flow into me like water bursting through a broken dam. I used that power to attack the spiteful excuse for a woman standing before me, charging towards her and striking her down with all of my hatred and rage. Her body fell helplessly to the cold stone floor. The look in eyes was fear now. Utter terror, mixed with confusion. It was the first thing since my rebirth that I could truly enjoy the sight of.

“W-why?” She uttered. “I brought you back into this world…”

“Shut up.” I commanded. “You annoy me. That is all the reason I need. Besides, all of the petty little humans that inhabit this world will die by my hand soon enough. Your turn just happened to come a little earlier, that’s all.”

“N-no! Please!”

Hearing her beg for her life filled me with joy. Her pain was delicious. I knelt down in front of the wretched woman and brushed my fingers gently against her hollowed cheek. She recoiled at my touch, causing me to grab her tightly by the back of her head.

“I did all of this for you!” She sobbed. “Why would you do this to me?”

“I just told you why.” I replied, pulling her towards me so that there were only a few inches between her miserable face and my own. “What did you expect from resurrecting the dark lord? They don’t call me that because I’m benevolent and merciful.”

“P-please! I’ll do anything.” The woman begged for her life. “I’ll be your most loyal servant! I-I could even be your… your mistress, if you so desire.”

The mere suggestion filled me with rage and I slammed the wrench against the floor.

“What in the nine levels of hell would make you possibly think that I would desire you in the carnal flesh, witch?” I yelled before regain my composure and considering what she said. “Though I suppose you do raise a point. Celia, was it? You’ve just earned a spot as the first servant of my new reign.”

I pulled the woman back up off the ground and held her closely, caressing her cheek with my hand. She didn’t recoil this time. In fact, she seemed almost to embrace my touch now. Her eyes fluttered shut and lips parted as if expecting a kiss. In a way what I then gave her could be seen as a kiss, though not one for the lips. I brushed her hair back and pulled down the color of her robes to expose her neck. I found myself drawn to the soft, pale flesh which seemed to almost be inviting my dark embrace. And so I sank my fangs deep into her neck. It was my first taste of blood. I found it hard to restrain myself from sucking out every last drop until she was nothing more than a dried husk. But she wouldn’t be any good to me in that state. I needed her alive if she was going to serve me. Well, alive may not be the best term.

When I had finished, I dropped the witch’s unconscious body onto the ground and stood up. When she awoke, Celia Fortner would be among the living dead: a vampire. The first that I had sired. However, it would be some time before she would wake so I chose to leave her for the time being. Looking down at her body as she lay sprawled out on the ground I began to feel a sense that perhaps she could begin to entice me enough to take her up on her offer of becoming lovers. If I were desperate, that was.

I looked around the room. Trees and plants grew everywhere. It felt almost more like I was in a forest than a castle. My eyes settled on a sickly red tree in the center of the room, from which a girl’s body hung. I knew that I knew the girl well and yet she was like nothing more than a distant memory. It took me a moment to remember that her death is what had triggered my awakening. I then decided to float up to the girl to take a closer look at her.

“I suppose I owe you a great deal.” I commented as I lifted up the girl’s face to examine her. “After all, I wouldn’t be here without you… Mina.”

As I stared at the dead girl I felt something. Whether it was some sort of residual love left over from my former life or just hunger I will never know. Either way, I decided to try something out. She was dead, yes, but her life had only just passed from her. Her blood was still warm. I bit into her neck and began to drink the girl’s blood but quickly spit it back out due to the foul taste. I stared at the girl’s limp body in confusion before I realized why her blood seemed so repulsive to me. Once I figured it out, I couldn’t help but laugh.

The girl had meant a lot to me before my rebirth. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that I had loved her. Certainly, I must have, seeing as how witnessing her death is what allowed me to give into my rage and awaken to my true self. And yet, she wasn’t even real. The body that hung before me was nothing more than a doppelganger, made up to look like the girl. Indeed, the real Mina Hakuba was likely alive and well elsewhere in the castle. I silently congratulated Celia for her clever and effective ruse, before moving on.

If Mina hasn’t here, and she wasn’t dead, then my first objective was to find her and turn her. Of course, I had no idea where in this forsaken castle she was being kept. I turned around and dropped back down to the floor to begin my search. If I hadn’t found her before now, then she could only be in one of the chambers further in. However, as I walked towards the doorway I felt something leave me. I turned back around to see a soul float up to the doppelganger and possess it. The bonds holding the doppelganger to the sickly red tree broke and it fell to the floor, landing on its feet. The formerly empty vessel no longer resembled the form of Mina Hakuba but now took the appearance of a man I thought I had killed.

“I should thank my lucky stars for allowing my escape to run so smoothly.” Dmitrii Blinov casually checked out the arms and legs of his new body to make sure everything was in working order. “I was able to loosen myself when the boy’s emotions shifted.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” I asked the newly resurrected Russian. “Also, didn’t I kill you?”

“Shedding my former body was a desperate gamble on my part.” Dmitrii said. “But one that certainly paid off well.”

“Explain yourself.” I demanded. “Or, wait, no. I suddenly stopped caring.”

I turned to leave and resume my search for Mina, when Dmitrii spoke up again.

“Hey, come back here!” He snapped.

“Why? So you can explain how you were able to use your ability to copy powers to imitate my power of dominance, forcing me to absorb your soul so that you could copy even more of my power until now, when you were able to dislodge yourself from my soul and take that doppelganger as a new vessel for your soul?”

“Um, yes.” Dmitrii seemed stunned that I had managed to work out his entire plan so quickly. “But there’s more than that. Now that I have gained all of your powers and abilities, I shall be the one to awaken as the Dark Lord!”

“Yeah, I don’t think that will be happening.” I said condescendingly. “You’re just a cheap imitation, no match for the real deal.”

“How dare you!” Dmitrii seemed offended by the truth. “I’ll show you who the imitation is!”

His insolence almost amused me and I was beginning to look forward to teaching the insolent whelp a lesson with my fists. However, at this point I suddenly remembered that we were not alone here. The others who had helped me before I became the Dark Lord were still here and had likely sensed my awakening. It was only a matter of time before they would show up to defeat me while I was still weak. Perhaps I had use of the fool before me after all.

“How could you even be the Dark Lord?” I goaded him. “I mean, you certainly don’t look the part. I, on the other hand, inherited the same regal nobility and dark presence that my predecessor had. You? Well, you’re certainly no Dracula, that’s for sure.”

“Why you!”

His anger clouding his judgment and overriding his logic, Dmitrii began to change his form. The shapeshifting abilities of the dead doppelganger that he was possessing allowed him to take on an appearance reminiscent of my own. It was almost like looking into a mirror. Although he managed to be a little taller than me, with a more muscular frame and wearing a red and black fur-trimmed coat over a regal looking suit. By all that was unholy, it was exactly what I wanted to look like. Only he was clean shaven.

“Well.” I was planning on feigning a sense of having been impressed but it turned out that I didn’t need to fake it. “Perhaps you could be a rival for my position after all. Of course, if you truly copied all of my powers then that would mean that we are evenly matched. Neither of us could truly kill the other. Our battle would just be a matter of seeing who could seal the other’s power away first. For example, using that mirror over there.”

I nodded my head towards a large mirror hung on the wall at the far end of the room, partly obscured by moss and vines. Dmitrii took the hint and charged towards me. I pretended to try and defend against his attack, letting him grab me by the throat and run towards the mirror with me in his grasp. It was almost pitiful to think that he honestly thought that he had genuinely gotten the better of me. Dmitrii slammed me against the mirror, but rather than simply breaking the glass I was thrown into a parallel world on the other side. This was the power that I took from Paranoia upon dominating his soul. The ability to shift in and out of this mirror dimension through contact with a large enough reflective surface. Dmitrii hopefully didn’t know that I was able to freely walk back into the real world whenever I pleased, or else my entire plan would be ruined. Fortunately, he just stood there laughing at his own ‘cleverness’.

I watched as Dmitrii congratulated himself for his supposed victory. He seemed to be rattling about something, likely trying to rub my defeat in my face, though sound did not travel through the mirror. I did my best to fake an expression of shock and fear, dropping to my knees in a show of weakness. He bought the whole act. I waited there for a while before looking up just in time to see them arrive. Julius Belmont, Yoko Belnades and Alucard. I was actually a bit surprised by that last one. Genya Arikado returning to his true identity was not something I had expected. However, it was not unwelcome.

I quickly rolled to the side before any of them could see me. As long as I was hidden from view through the mirror, the three ‘heroes’ would have no reason to suspect that I was there. Every few minutes I would quickly peer through the corner of the mirror just long enough to check what was happening. Julius, Yoko and Alucard fought Dmitrii, who was no match for their combined strength. After a long but ultimately one-sided battle, Julius struck Dmitrii down with one final blow from the Vampire Killer whip. The Dark Lord imposter’s body exploded into darkness, leaving nothing behind.

I was worried that at some point during the fight Dmitrii might have said something that would have tipped them off that he wasn’t me, or even outright told them who he was. Fortunately, it appeared that was not the case. The trio left, thinking that they had accomplished their mission and defeated the Dark Lord. In a way they had. It just happened to not be me. With one fell swoop, the closest thing to competition I had was gone while those who would hunt me down thought that I was already dead.

I waited in the mirror realm for some time. If I left too soon then they might sense my presence and return to finish me off. After about a day had passed, at least according to my watch, I finally stepped out into the real world again. It occurred to me that I had lost track of Celia’s body after Dmitrii’s unexpected arrival. I found it likely that she had been slain during the fight, which at least meant that I would not have to deal with her again. I also came to a realization that Mina had likely been rescued and returned home safely after the battle, meaning that I would not have a chance to turn her. Yet.

It quickly turned out that I was wrong about Celia’s fate. She must have just been knocked to the side during the fight or something, likely without anyone even realizing she wasn’t just a corpse. She awoke shortly after I had returned from the mirror realm, possibly awakened by my presence as her sire. She slowly stumbled towards where I stood, groaning loudly.

“So there you are.” I said. “Have a nice nap?”

Celia stared at me with her mouth hanging open like she wasn’t sure how to answer. I snickered and turned away. Celia may have been my only servant at the moment, however, there was one of my predecessor’s most loyal vassals who always headed his call. I decided to see if he would do the same for me.

“Death.” I spoke his name aloud to summon him and sure enough, he appeared before me.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to call for me.” The cloaked skeleton said in a deep, raspy voice that would have sent chills down the spine of a normal human. “What is it that you wish?”

“I am weak.” There was no need for me to talk down to Death, as he was more my peer than a servant. “If I am to take control over this world I must become far more powerful than I am now. The first step on my path should be to find a lair. This castle would do nicely, except that it would be the first place that my enemies would check if they found out I was still alive, while Castlevania remains sealed away. I would request that you find a suitable location for me to lay claim to.”

“Certainly.” Death nodded. “I will seek out a castle worthy of the Dark Lord at once.”

With that, Death vanished in a flash of pale purple fire. I then turned to Celia.

“You had recruited monsters to serve under me when I awoke, did you not.”

“Oh, yes.” Celia nodded. “All of the monsters here in this castle were meant to serve you. However, I fear that many of them have been slain by your hand, Master.”

“And I’m sure most of the ones I didn’t kill were slain by the others when they tried to kill me.” I noted. “Still, I want you to gather up what’s left of the forces here that are willing to serve me. I will be waiting for you in the village outside. Gather up any weapons or items that may be of use to me as well.”

“Yes, Master.” Celia gave a curtsey before leaving to follow my instruction.

Once I was alone, I headed for the door to leave. I wandered through the halls of the old stone castle. Well, actually it wasn’t old at all. This castle had been constructed fairly recently by With Light as a replica of Castlevania. Now that I had some of the memories of my former incarnation restored to me, albeit more like vague recollections than real memories, I could start to see the resemblance. Admittedly, I had been to the real Castlevania once before in this body, but it was far from the centuries that Dracula had spent within the castle’s walls.

It felt almost uncanny. Castlevania was a being of chaos, always changing every time that it was summoned to Earth. Yet somehow, the cult that had created this replica had done an admittedly good job replicating the general feel of the Demon Castle. It was almost like I was actually walking through Castlevania itself. The key word there being almost. It may not have been apparent to anyone else but me and perhaps Death, but there was something off about this replica castle. It lacked the essence of the real deal, if that makes any sense.

But I pushed those thoughts out of my mind as I finally stepped outside. The cold winter’s air felt brisk against by pale skin as I crossed the bridge leading to the lost village. To a normal human, walking through the empty streets of the snow-covered ghost town would have felt earie at best. But I was neither normal nor human. If anything I actually felt quite at home there. I took the time to bask in the moonlight before continuing to my destination, feeling invigorated and full of energy. This was the first time that I had felt the strength that the night could truly offer me in this form. It was a feeling that I would not soon forget.

I walked up to a building near the town’s entrance, which appeared to be a café or small restaurant of some kind. There were several small, round tables positioned just outside of the long-closed establishment, which seemed like a good place to wait. I grabbed an empty chair and shook the snow off of it before sitting down. Thanks to the power of Relaxation granted unto me by the soul of an Ouija Table, my ability to sit was enhanced to the point were no mere human could possibly dare to match my shear sitting power. I had become the pinnacle of what it meant to sit. In fact, the only thing that could possibly make my sitting even more impressive would be if I were holding a glass of blood-red liquid. Whether actual blood or just wine, I did not care. Unfortunately, the closest thing that I could summon to that at the time was a plate of curry which, while delicious, would be far less impressive. But, I needed something to pass the time while I waited, so I went ahead and summoned a bowl of curry anyway.

When I had finished eating, I tossed the now-empty plate to the ground dramatically, as my predecessor enjoyed doing with his wine glasses long ago. Shattered porcelain proved to be far less impressive, however, particularly when it blended in with the snow. I resumed sitting in a fashion that would make even the mightiest of gods jealous when I spotted Celia approaching with a mismatched assortment of monsters following behind her.

Spoiler: Scrapped plans for the series

I had a few story arcs in my head for where this series would have gone, which mostly focused on Soma building up his forces by taking out rival vampires. The first one would have been Carmilla, a recurring villain from the Castevania series, who Soma would eventually win over to his side over convincing her that he was the true reincarnation of Dracula. After that, he would have gone up against a Brazilian vampire with time-stopping abilities named Diablo, who was very heavily based off Dio from the Jojo's Bizarre Adventure series. I also would have focused on Soma's steadily growing inner circle, which in addition to the characters mentioned, would have included a female zombie trapped in a suit of armor possessed by her own grandfather, as well as a few others that I didn't have planned out in much detail.
My reasons for not continuing this story past this draft for the first chapter were mainly because I just didn't want to start up another ongoing series at the time I wrote this. I do still like the concept for the story and may eventually bring it back as an original story, which I have some ideas for already. Who knows if I'll ever get around to it, though.

If you have any question or comments on this or anything else I end up sharing in this thread, please leave them here. I want to know what you think works (or doesn't work) so that I can keep it in mind to try and improve my writing moving forward.

 

Next up we have Fire Emblem: Ashen Skies. This is a Three Houses fanfic that would have started out following the game's plot (with the Blue Lions route) but gradually branch off as it goes, so that by the time it would have reached the timeskip, the story would have gone in a completely different direction. I actually started working on this story before the Cindered Shadows campaign was revealed, but the storyline and lore expansions actually worked well into what I had planned (such as offering a chance for the house leaders to work together and revealing more information about Byleth's mother) and I was able to adjust my outline to include it. I was initially just going to plan out the story for fun with no intent on actually writing it, but eventually I just decided to sit down and ended up getting through the first chapter in a single sitting (probably the most I've ever written in a day, but it helps that its mostly describing things directly in the game and roughly half the dialogue was taken verbatim from the script) and the first half of chapter 2 not long after that. I haven't worked on the story since then, however, and I'm not sure if I will get back to it as I'm not sure that I want a fourth ongoing story right now. If there's any interest, I may get back to working on it, though.

Spoiler: Chapter 1

Waves of soldiers crashed into each other like the morning tide as the sun rose over the distant mountains. Two of the largest armies ever assembled in Fódlan’s history fought a brutal battle that rendered the entire valley as little more than a sea of blood and steel, the likes of which had never been seen before. It was here, amongst this carnage, that one of the most pivotal moments in the continent’s history was about to unfold.

Amid the chaos of clashing blades, one man stood out among the rest. Both due to his tremendous power and skill, as well as the fact that he stood head and shoulders above everyone around him. His white hair and grizzled face betrayed his advanced age, yet despite it, he was still able to effortlessly mow down soldiers like grass with his unique perforated sword that seemed to behave almost more like a bladed whip than a proper sword. Friend and foe alike fell before his blade in his rage-filled slaughter.

On the opposite side of the valley, a green-haired woman carved her way across the battlefield with equal measure grace and skill with her blade. She seemed almost to dance along the carnage as she sought out her true opponent and the object of her wrath.

It did not take long for the two titans of battle to reach each other at last, which is when the true battle began. The rest of the fighting quelled considerably as both sides stopped to witness the duel that would determine the future of their land. Time seemed to stop as the man and woman sized each other up. If one were to describe the way the two looked at each other, only one word could properly suffice. Hatred.

The man acted first, raising his sword, which slashed through the air almost as if he were controlling it by thought rather than through action. The woman responded by charging directly toward her opponent, possessed by a fury that allowed her to face off against the physically stronger warrior as if they were equals. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed across the valley as they crossed blades. To the armies watching on in awe, it seemed almost louder than the sounds of battle that had proceeded it.

What followed was a dizzying display of swordplay and acrobatics from both fighters that even the sharpest-eyed soldier would have trouble following. Eventually, the duel seemed to slow to a standstill as the two locked swords for one final time, before the woman nimbly jumped back several yards to open up the distance between them. The man took another swing, his sword’s blade extending in the air, just long enough to lightly graze the woman’s stomach, which was protected only by the thin cloth garment she wore in lieu of proper armor. Striking his opponent was not the man’s intent with that slash, however, which he instead used to build up momentum for a second strike which the woman was able to roll out of the way of. Undeterred, the man took a third swing, managing to wrap that chain-like sections of his blade around the woman’s more conventional flamberge. The woman responded by simply tossing her weapon to the side and charging her opponent head-on, punching him in the face with more force than one would expect from her lithe figure, and then following it up by knocking him down with a jump kick to the face. The man tried to get up again, only for the woman to pin him down with a foot to his belly and a knife to his throat.

“Tell me, Nemesis, do you remember the Red Canyon?” The woman asked as she pressed the dagger harder against the man’s throat. “You’ll pay for that! Die! Die!”

The woman proceeded to plunge the dagger into the man’s throat several times, a manic grin spreading across her face as she did so.

“You took everything that I love!”

With that, the man’s life came to an end. The woman, still crouching into his chest, picked up his sword and cradled it closely as if it were a loved one. The fact that it was drenched in the blood of countless fallen soldiers did not seem to bother her in the slightest if she even noticed it, as the blood was smeared across her face and stained her white garments.

“He’s gone now, Mother…”

The woman’s words trailed off as the whole world seemed to swirl away. Images flashed of buildings, statues and cities. The entire history of Fódlan from that day condensed into the span mere seconds. Then there was nothing but a stone throne surrounded by darkness. The only source of illumination being the throne’s occupant, a young girl who seemed to glow with radiant splendor. The girl looked up, realizing that she was not alone.

“Oh my. What could have brought you here?”

It took a moment for Byleth to realize that the girl was speaking to him. He had witnessed the prior battle countless times but he had never this green-haired girl before, dressed in highly decorative and ornate clothing of a fashion Byleth could not identify.

“I wonder how you got in here… It is most rude to interrupt a moment of repose, you know. Very rude indeed.”

Byleth looked around. The floor beneath his feet seemed to stretch out into the darkness in all directions. No sign of any walls or a ceiling, so they didn’t appear to be indoors. But the lack of a breeze indicated that they weren’t outside, either.

“Now come to me. I wish to look at you.”

Byleth snapped his attention back to the mysterious girl. He did not know or trust her but his highly focused instinct told him that he should do as she said until he could apprise more of his current situation. Thus, he took several steps forward into the light she radiated.

“Hmm…” The girl took in Byleth’s appearance. The teal-haired young man wore a serious demeanor as well as a black coat over dark, armored clothing, with a knife holstered at his belt. “I have not seen the likes of you before. Who are you, anyway?”

“I am known as the Ashen Demon,” Byleth replied with his usual introduction. He had found that his title was more widely recognized than his true name, and had thus grown accustomed to introducing himself with it.

“That is an…” the girl seemed to search around for the word she wanted to use, “interesting reply. Surely you must have an actual name, though? Go on.”

“Byleth.” The young man replied curtly.

“Huh. I shall not ever grow accustomed to the sound of human names. Assuming you are human, of course.”

Byleth nodded, though he knew the truth to be more complicated than that.

“You must possess a day of birth as well. Beneath which moon and on what day were you born to this world?”

Byleth’s eyes narrowed. “I see no reason to share that information. At least not without something in return.”

“Fine, then.” He girl seemed annoyed by his response. “I find it unlikely that you make very many friends with that attitude of yours.”

“Don’t need them.”

The girl seemed rather off-put by that response but decided to change the subject.

“You know, it’s strange, but… this all feels so… familiar.” The girl let out a yawn. “I think it may be time for yet another nap… it is almost… time to… begin…”

The girl rather abruptly drifted off to sleep. Byleth silently cursed himself for not being able to pry any information from her about who she was or where they were. Thought something told him that he would have another chance soon as everything faded away to darkness.

* * *

Jeralt walked back into the quite inn with a grim expression on his face, hurrying up to the room that he and his son had stayed in for the night. There, he found that his son was lying in bed, presumably still fast asleep.

“Hey. Time to wake up.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been asleep after all, considering the speed with which the young man rose from his bed. Then again, Byleth had always been a light sleeper so it was hard to tell.

“Were you having that dream again?” Jeralt noticed the subtle expression his son wore, which indicated that something was bothering him.

“I was dreaming about a war… and a girl.” Byleth thought back to what he had seen but the memory of his dream was already beginning to fade.

“Dreaming about a girl, huh? Perhaps there’s hope that I might have grandkids one day after all?” Jeralt’s attempt at humor fell flat, so he moved on. “In any case, just put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts. Risking your life is part of the job for mercenaries like us. Letting your mind wander is a sure way to get yourself killed.”

“I already know that as well as you do,” Byleth replied. “Are we heading out now?”

“Yeah.” Jeralt nodded. “Our next job is up in the Kingdom, as I told you before. It’s still pretty far from here, so we’ll be leaving at dawn.”

“Of course.” Byleth picked his sword up from where it was propped up against the wall and holstered it around his waist. He was in the habit of sleeping in his clothes and didn’t keep much in the way of personal effects, so this was all he needed to get ready. “I assume the others are already waiting for us outside?”

“That’s right.” Jeralt nodded again. “And it’s best that we not keep them waiting.”

At that moment, one of Jeralt’s men burst into the room. “Jeralt! Sir! Sorry to barge in, but your presence is needed outside!”

“Did something happen?” Jeralt asked the mercenary.

“There are a bunch of kids being chased by bandits just outside the village. They have requested our immediate aid.”

“Kids, huh?” Jeralt stroked his beard in consideration. “You sure they can pay?”

“We all know you’re going to have us help them regardless of the answer.” Byleth headed towards the door. “Let’s just make this quick.”

* * *

“Please forgive our intrusion. We wouldn’t bother you were the situation not dire.”

There were three of the so-called kids waiting for their help. All three seemed to be around Byleth’s age, though they were likely a few years younger. They wore military uniforms that Byleth did not recognize, of matching design but differing in color. Two of them, a blond boy in blue and a white-haired girl in red were clearly both of noble status. Byleth was less sure about the boy in yellow, though, who didn’t appear to be from Fódlan at all. If he had to make a guess, Byleth would say that he was probably from Almyra. Though the boy in blue was the one who addressed them.

“I was told there were bandits,” was all Jeralt said.

“Yes, we’re being pursued by a group of bandits,” the boy in blue confirmed. “I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend us your support.”

“It’s true.” The girl in red nodded. “They attacked us while we were at rest in camp.”

“We’ve been separated from our companions and we’re outnumbered.” The boy in yellow chimed in, though he seemed oddly laid back compared to the other two. “They’re after our lives… not to mention our gold.”

Byleth noted that the last part was meant to imply that they could pay. The boy in yellow seemed to have a better understanding of how to negotiate with mercenaries than his companions.

“I’m impressed that you’re staying so calm, considering the situation,” Jeralt noted. “I… wait. Those uniforms…”

Before Jeralt could finish his thought, one of the other mercenaries ran over to them.

“Bandits spotted just outside the village, coming from the North and East sides. A lot of ‘em.”

“I guess they managed to follow you all the way here,” Jeralt said gravely. “We can't abandon this village now. Come on, let’s move!”

* * *

Byleth, Jeralt and their three clients moved to take on the bandits coming from the northern woods, while the rest of the mercenaries were sent to take the bandits coming from the east. The boy in blue had been concerned that their group was so small, but Jeralt managed to convince him and the others that they would be able to hold their own.

“Let’s take care of those thieves before they overrun the village,” Jeralt said as the bandits came into sight. “Take down the enemies in front first. That should take the wind out of their sails.”

Byleth drew his sword and prepared for battle. The boy in blue stood to his right brandishing a lance while the girl in red gripped an axe to his left and the boy in yellow knocked an arrow behind them. He could tell that the three were not unfamiliar with their weapons. In fact, they seemed to be more experienced than most of the fledgling mercenaries that Byleth had helped train. Jeralt stayed behind the group on horseback, so that he more easily direct them through the battle.

“Thank you. We are in your debt.” The boy in blue said. “It wouldn’t do for us to fall in a place like this. Please, lend us your strength and let’s work together to drive out these thieves!”

A single bandit walked out from the treescape towards the village wall, likely a scout. Byleth wasted no time in charging forward and cutting down the bandit with a single slash of his blade. The thug’s corpse fell to the ground with a thump as the others caught up to him.

“You have a strange aura about you…” the girl in red said to Byleth, an air of curiosity in her voice. “You say you’re a mercenary, right? I look forward to seeing what you can really do.”

“Ooh, it looks like the princess has a thing for the mysterious stranger.” The boy in yellow laughed, then turned to Byleth himself. “Seriously, though, thanks for the help. I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village. The gods of fortune must be smiling on me!”

Byleth didn’t respond but did absorb that information. It appeared that the girl may have been royalty, indicating that the other two may also be of a similar social status, unless that was what the colors of their uniform were meant to denote. Also, the fact that the boy in yellow referred to gods of fortune, rather than the singular Goddess, was another indicator that he wasn’t from Fódlan proper.

“Take up position inside the forest.” Jeralt ordered as he rode up beside them. “We’ll advance while protecting ourselves from the enemy.”

Byleth nodded to his father and took off into the woods, the others following behind. The cover that the trees provided allowed the four of them to approach the bandits undetected while Jeralt stayed out in the open to draw their attention. As they drew close to their enemies, Byleth signaled his plan of attack to the others. However, none of them seemed to understand his hand signals, so Byleth was forced to resort to whispering the plan to them instead.

“Yellow, I want you to take out the one in front with an arrow. Red, Blue, you’re going to charge in on the others while they're distracted. I’ll run around them and stop any that try to run away.”

“We have names, you know.” Red seemed to be a bit irritated by that.

“Which we can share when we’re not in the middle of a fight,” Yellow added.

“Yes, using simple codenames that make it clear who’s being referred to does seem like the optimal approach when fighting alongside people you don’t know,” Blue observed. “It certainly seems easier than trying to remember stranger’s names in the middle of combat. Shall we call you Black, then?”

“Nah, we’ve all got black in our uniforms.” Yellow pointed out. “How about Pink, like that pattern on your shirt?”

“I don’t care what you call me,” Byleth replied. “Now move.”

Yellow nodded and strung another arrow, firing it at the bandit in front of the group and striking him to the neck. Their comrade’s sudden and unexpected death stunned the other bandits just long enough for Blue and Red to charge in and attack, just as Byleth planned. Dimitri lunged at one of the bandits and plunged his spear into the man’s gut, then knocked him over onto another bandit. This disabled the second bandit long enough for Blue to remove his lance from the first one and strike down the second, while Edelgard took a swing at the last bandit with her axe. She managed to miss the attack and the frightened bandit took off in the other direction, running directly into the sharp end of Byleth’s sword.

“Well, we sure make a good team.” Yellow walked over to the others now that all of the bandits in their immediate vicinity had fallen. “We certainly finished them off quickly.”

Byleth plunged his sword into the chest of the bandit he had just struck down, startling the others.

“Did you not you already kill him?” Blue asked.

“Probably,” Byleth replied coldly as he removed the blade and wiped off the blood with the slain bandit’s tunic. “But it’s always best to make sure. You should do the same to the others. And make sure to check their corpses for anything worth taking.”

“Have you no respect for the dead?” Red seemed appalled as Byleth crouched down and began rummaging through the dead bandit’s pockets, pulling out a few coins and a small dagger.

“Well, I suppose they aren’t going to be needing it anymore.” Blue eyed the two he had taken down warily. He also seemed to be uneasy with the idea, though he was clearly considering both sides of the argument. “In a way, I suppose it would almost be disrespectful to let their things go to waste.”

“I doubt these guys really had anything worthwhile, though,” Claude joked. “Still, might as well.”

Jeralt rode up to them as Yellow began searching the body of the bandit he had killed and Blue ran his spear through the two he had struck down. One of them let out a groan, indicating that he really hadn’t been finished off yet.

“I leave you alone for a minute and you’ve already got these noble kids looting corpses.” Jeralt sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I would never stoop so low.” Red sounded offended by the notion.

“Hey, don’t blame Pink. He’s not going to get us to do anything we wouldn’t want to do.” Yellow smiled, examining the iron sword he was now holding.

Dimitri dropped the sword that he had just taken from one of the bandits himself, suddenly feeling ashamed as he realized how willing he had been to start stealing from the dead.

“Pink, huh? Been a while since I’ve heard anyone call you that,” Jeralt reflected. “But now’s not the time to reminisce. There are a few more bandits on their way, including one that I think might be their leader.”

Byleth readied his sword again while the others prepared themselves for another confrontation. It didn’t take long before the three bandits Jeralt referred to walked out into the clearing.

“Huh, what the…” The lead bandit was thrown off guard by what he saw. “Why are there mercenaries here? Wait, aren’t you Jeralt the Blade Breaker? And that makes you the Ashen Demon! What are renowned mercenaries like you doing here?”

“We’re the ones who should be complaining. We’re caught up in the mess you started,” Jeralt sighed. “Now why don’t you make this easy for us and just give up now.”

“No way!” The bandit leader growled. “I’ve got more of my men coming in from the other side, which means that we’ve got you outnumbered and surrounded. Even the legendary Blade Break and Ashen Demon won’t be able to fight your way out of this alone!”

“I suppose that could be true,” Jeralt noted with amusement. “Except the reason it’s just the five of us out here is because I sent the rest of my men after the other bandits we spotted coming towards the village. Unless you're talking about another group of bandits coming to flank us, then I think we should be fine.”

The bandit leader swore loudly before raising his axe towards Jeralt. “Fine, then. I doubt the stories that we’ve heard about you are true, anyway, and I’m sure that my men here would love to test their mettle against a pair of renowned mercenaries like yourselves.”

The other bandits roared their approval of his statement, indicating that there was no way they were going to get out of this fight.

“Fine then, I guess we’ll have it your way.” Jeralt sighed again and turned to Byleth. “Would you care to do the honors?”

Byleth nodded and stepped forward, sword held at the ready. “Blue, to my left. Red, to my right. Yellow, shoot anyone who gets past us.”

“We’re gonna kill you where you stand!” The bandit leader yelled as he signaled for his men to charge.

Byleth and the bandit leader were the first to reach each other. The bandit took a downward swing with his axe which Byleth was easily able to side-step out of the way of and counter by slashing the bandit leader’s left arm with his sword. Meanwhile, Blue was able to nail one of the bandits in the shoulder with his lance. Red struggled more with her opponent, as both swung their axes at each other with little success. The bandit leader managed to strike Byleth in the side, knocking him back. Byleth turned the motion into a role and was able to slash at the legs of the bandit Red was fighting, causing him to fall over and allowing her to plunge the blade of her axe deep into the bandit’s chest. Meanwhile, Blue ducked under an axe swing from the bandit he was fighting, leaving an opening for Yellow to shoot that bandit in the face with one of his arrows. Blue took a final jab at the bandit, having taken Byleth’s advice to always make sure your opponent was dead to heart.

The bandit leader roared with fury at the loss of his final two men and charged Red with his axe. The sudden attack caught Red off-guard but Byleth saw it coming and pushed Edelgard out of the way of the attack. His back was now turned to the enemy, intending to channel his momentum as he turned into a powerful finishing blow. He had misjudged his timing in the heat of the moment, however, and the bandit’s axe sunk into his back with killing force.

Or at least, that’s what should have happened. There was a flash of light just before the axe blade made contact and everything went black. The chill morning wind that had been blowing a moment ago was now stagnant and Byleth could no longer hear the sounds of the forest around him.

“Honestly!” A familiar voice cried out. “What are you trying to accomplish with that little stunt? It’s like you’re trying to get me killed, you fool!”

“Get you killed?” Byleth turned around to see the girl from his dream sitting in her throne, almost literally fuming with anger.

“Nevermind.” The girl sighed and seemed to calm down a bit. “After all, if you don’t know the value of your own life, you’re not going to protect it very well, are you? Of course not.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Byleth noted, “and you still haven’t told me who you are.”

“Oh, that’s right. I haven’t even introduced myself yet, have I. You can call me…” The girl stood up and seemed to ponder something for a moment. “Sothis… Yes, that was it. My name is Sothis but I am also called… The Beginning. But who called me that? Huh, I was not able to recall my name until just now. And just like that, it came to me. How odd.”

Byleth glared at the mysterious green-haired girl, ready for her to get to the point.

“That look on your face…” Sothis looked down at him with an air of smugness. “You thought me a child, didn’t you? A mere child who forgot her own name? Phooey! This ‘child’ just saved your life! And what does that make you?”

Byleth considered his options. It was clear that the girl must have had some sort of immense unknown power, or else they wouldn’t even be having this conversation. As such, it was clear that staying on her bad side was something to avoid, so his best choice was to say what he thought she would want to hear.

“That would make me less than a child.”

“Correct!” Sothis announced cheerfully. “I see that you understand your place now. Now, back to the matter at hand. You threw yourself before an axe to save just one young girl.”

“I misjudged my timing. That was all.” Byleth defended himself.

“That does not change the fact that you would have died had I not intervened. Yet all is well, as I have stalled the flow of time for now.”

“Thank you.” Byleth thought that showing gratitude seemed like the best option at the moment, but he also wanted answers. “But how did you… stop time?”

“How did I manage that?” Sothis placed her finger to her chin contemplatively. “Well, I suppose I can figure that out later. For now, time has stopped but only momentarily. When time begins again, the axe will tear into your flesh and you will surely meet your end. How rude of you to drag me into this!”

“I’m still not sure how I dragged you into this.”

“Never mind that.” Sothis dismissed the comment. “What are we to do now?”

Byleth considered. “Well, if time resumes now then I die and, if you’re to be believed, so will you. If time doesn’t resume, then we’re both likely stuck here until we die. I’d rather die at the hands of the enemy than waiting for death. But if you can bring time to a stop, then can you reverse it as well?”

“Of course!” Sothis exclaimed ecstatically. “I must turn back the hands of time! Yes, I do believe that it can be done. I cannot wind back time too far, but all is well. You are aware of what’s to come, which means you can protect yourself this time. Now, go… Yes, you who bear the flames within. Drift through the flow of time to find the answers that you seek…”

Byleth had no idea what those parting words meant, but he quickly found himself back in the woods with the bandit’s axe about to strike him down. He watched as events seemed to play themselves out in reverse until he found himself mid-roll as time returned to its normal flow. He struck the legs of one of the bandits, allowing Red to sink her axe into his chest again, as Blue and Yellow took down the other one as they had before. The only actions to change were those of Byleth himself. The mercenary quickly grabbed the dagger he had taken earlier and threw it at the bandit leader before he could attack. The last remaining bandit let out a howl of pain and stumbled back, cursing loudly before turning to run. Red moved to pursue but Byleth held out a hand to stop her.

“Yellow!”

Yellow understood the order and fired an arrow at the fleeing bandit. It missed ,but was only meant as a warning shot to begin with. It was clear that this bandit would not be troubling them again anytime soon.

“Good work.” Jeralt congratulated Byleth and the kids as he rode up beside them again. “The three of you were a bit sloppy but I’m sure that you’ll learn with time. Now, let’s get out of here before-”

“The knights of Seiros are here!” A mounted knight in silver armor charged in on their location, followed by a procession of similar knights in matching armor. “We’ll cut you down for terrorizing our students!”

“Ugh, why him?” Jeralt muttered under his breath.

“Hey, the thieves are running away!” The knight shouted again. “Go after them! The students seem to be unharmed and… could it be?”

The knight leading the charge slowed to a halt beside the group while the rest pursued the fleeing bandit that Byleth had let go. The knight who remained took off his helmet and stared at Jeralt for a moment.

“Captain Jeralt?” The knight exclaimed in astonishment. “It is you! Goodness, it’s been ages. Don’t you recognize me? It’s Alois! Your old right-hand man! Well, that’s how I always thought of myself, anyway.”

Several things were apparent to Byleth. The first was that this knight was both loud and talkative. The second and more important was the fact that he seemed to know Byleth’s father, yet he knew that he had never seen this man before in his life. This was intriguing to Byleth, as Jeralt rarely ever discussed his past and the only whispers that Byleth ever heard were the snippets he could catch when his father was drunk. And while this was a frequent occurrence, Byleth had still gained very little information on the subject. This knight, Alois, could provide a clue towards finally cracking the enigma that has his father’s past and, by extension, answering the question that Byleth had about himself.

“It must have been 20 years ago that you went missing without a trace!” Alois continued. “I always knew you were still alive!”

“You haven’t changed a bit, Alois.” Jeralt sighed and shook his head. “Just as loud as ever. And drop that ‘captain’ nonsense. I’m not your captain anymore. These days, I’m just a wandering mercenary. One who has work to do. Goodbye, old friend.”

Jeralt grabbed the reigns tightly and turned his horse to ride off. Byleth reluctantly turned to follow.

“Right… goodbye, Captain,” Alois stopped for a moment. “Wait! That isn’t how it ends! I insist that you return to the monastery with me!”

“Garreg Mach Monastery…” Jeralt sighed and turned his horse back around. “I suppose it was inevitable.”

“And how about you, kid?” Alois turned to Byleth. “Are you the captain’s child?”

Byleth looked up at the smiling knight. “No, I’m a bandit.”

Alois let out a mighty bellow. “Great sense of humor, this one. Clearly cut from the same cloth as the captain. I’d love for you to see the monastery too. You will join me, won’t you?”

Byleth glanced at his father before nodding. He had heard of the monastery before but his father always refused to talk about it. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious to check it out. Of course, he would lie if asked.

“What’s troubling you, Captain?” Alois turned back to Jeralt, who looked ready to ditch Byleth and run. “You aren’t about to run off again, are you?”

“Even I wouldn’t dare run from the Knights of Seiros.” Jeralt relented. “I almost feel sorry for that bandit we chased off. Almost.”

Alois and Jeralt began to ride back towards the village, leaving Byleth alone with the three Alois had referred to as students. Byleth assumed that meant they were attending a military academy of some sort, though he was unaware of anything like that in the area.

“The Knights of Seiros… They do seem rather skilled.” Byleth heard Sothis’ voice but she was nowhere to be seen as he turned around. “Ah, it seems that the girl wishes to speak with you. Get going.”

“I appreciate your help back there.” Red walked up to Byleth just as Sothis had indicated. “Your skill is beyond question. You are clearly an experienced mercenary. And your father, that would be Jeralt, the Blade Breaker? Former captain of the Knights of Seiros and often praised as the strongest knight to ever live?”

“It would appear that he is.” Byleth wiped off the blade of his sword and returned it to the scabbard at his waist.

“What do you mean?” Red looked at him questioningly.

Byleth wasn’t sure how much he was willing to share, as he still didn’t know these people very well. “I didn’t know he was a captain.”

“Curious.” Red seemed to make a mental note of that. “I’d wager the explanation for that is fascinating indeed.”

“Hey, you’re coming with us to the monastery, right?” Yellow asked enthusiastically. “Of course you are. I’d love to bend your ear as we travel. Oh, I should mention that the three of us are students of the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. We were doing some training exercises when those bandits attacked. I definitely got the worst of it.”

“That would be because you ran off,” Red snipped.

“Too true!” Yellow agreed. “I was the first to make a strategic retreat. Everything would have worked out if these two hadn’t followed me and ruined everything. Because of them, every single one of those bandits chased after us. Utterly ridiculous.”

There was something off about that story. If the three of them were part of a larger group as they had indicated, then it wouldn’t have made sense for all of the bandits to chase after them when there would have been others of similar social standing, and therefore wealth, to go after instead. Either Yellow was exaggerating or there was more to this story. Both options seemed equality plausible to Byleth.

“So that’s what you were thinking, Claude.” Blue joined in the conversation. “And here I thought that you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.”

“His intentions were as clear as day,” Red retorted. “You will prove a lacking ruler if you cannot see the truth behind a person’s words.”

“And you will prove a lacking ruler if you look for deceit behind every word, and fail to trust those whom you rely on.”

“Oh, joy.” Yellow, or rather, Claude smiled. “A royal debate between Their Highnesses. I wonder how being completely predictable affects one’s ability to wield power. Personally, as the embodiment of distrust, I’d say that your little exchange smacks of naiveté.”

It appeared that Byleth had been right in his assumption that Red and Blue were of noble status. While Claude’s tone of voice indicated that he was mocking them, the fact that they referred to each other as rules indicated that they really were of high status.

“Me? Naïve?” Red asked with indignation. “Tell me, are you actually incapable of keeping quiet or is your lack of self-awareness a condition of some sort?”

“In any case, forgive our digression.” Blue interrupted the argument before it could grow more heated. “I must speak with you if you can spare a moment. The way you held your ground against those bandits was captivating! You never lost control of the situation and were even able to teach us in the process. It showed me that I still have much to learn.”

Byleth noted the irony in Blue’s statement about not losing control. He wondered briefly how different things would be going right now if Sothis’ intervention hadn’t saved his life. Though he decided that there was no use in dwelling on it.

“Your skill is precisely why I must ask you to consider lending your services to the Empire,” Red requested. “I might as well tell you now, I am no mere student. I am also the Adrestian Empire’s-”

“Halt, Edelgard.” Blue cut her off. “Please allow me to finish my own proposition. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus is in dire need of exceptional individuals such as yourself. Please, do consider returning to the Kingdom with me.”

“Whoa, there!” Claude cut in. “You two sure are hasty, trying to recruit someone you just met. Personally, I was planning on building a deep and lasting friendship with our new mercenary friend on the way back to the monastery before asking for anything. But alas, there’s no time for niceties in this world, it seems. So, Ashen Demon, let’s get right to it. Where does your allegiance lie?”

Byleth considered his options. It was clear that indicating a preference towards any specific nation would please one of the three while alienating the other two. As he wasn’t sure exactly what he would gain or lose through his potential relations with them, he decided that answering honestly would be the wisest decision. “My allegiance is to whoever pays.”

“Well, that’s… disappointing.” Blue looked a bit downtrodden.

“Spoken like a true mercenary, though,” Claude laughed.

“But I will win you over to the Empire.” Edelgard’s statement felt almost like it was a threat, though Byleth couldn’t tell if it had been intended that way or not.

“All right, that’s enough small talk,” said Alois, who had riden back up to them while the four had been talking. “It’s time to head back to the monastery.”

“Looks like we’ll have to pick this up again some other time,” Claude said as he and the other students followed after Alois.

“My, my, they are in such a hurry.” Byleth could hear Sothis’ voice in his head again. “You know, each of the three was most intriguing. I wonder if we’ll be able to get to know them better.”

“I don’t know,” Byleth replied quietly. “There’s more to each of them than they show. The girl acts like a refined young woman but she’s also rash and judgmental. The Almyran seems easy going but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. The other boy has something dark buried beneath his pleasant façade. And I still don’t know what to make of you, yet, either.”

“Hey!” Sothis snapped. “But I suppose that is fair. We have only just met, after all. I do feel as though I know you from somewhere, though. I also feel… so sleepy once again…”

Sothis’ voice trailed off as Byleth caught up to the others. Jeralt and Alois led the procession, followed by the rest of Alois’ knights, while the three students stayed at the back of the group. Byleth fell in line with the trio and noted that none of the other mercenaries from his father’s company were with them. He assumed that Jeralt must have ordered them to proceed with their original job as planned. He also noticed that the knights didn’t seem to have had any prisoners with them. Either they had executed the bandit’s leader on the spot without taking the body with them, or he had somehow managed to evade capture. Based off of what Byleth knew of the Knights of Seiros, he found the later option more likely. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about that, though. On one hand, the bandit would likely spread word of how easily he had been defeated by the Ashen Demon, and reputation was everything for a mercenary of Byleth’s standing. On the other hand, that bandit seemed like the type that would try and cause problems for him later down the line. He hadn’t been worried about the later possibility before, but knowing that the bandit had managed to slip away from the Knights of Seiros while injured suggested that he may have been more of the threat than Byleth had made him out to be. He would have to see if he could find any clues as to the bandit’s identity later. But for now, his focus was on the journey ahead.

Spoiler: Chapter 2 (Unfinished)

Byleth tried to listen in on the conversation that his father was having with the knight known as Alois, in the hope of overhearing any details about his father’s past. Unfortunately, he could barely hear them over the chatter of the other knights that marched between them. So instead, he decided to focus his attention back to the three students whose lives he had helped save that morning. While he still didn’t know much about any of them, he had been able to pick up on a few details while they made their way to Garreg Mach Monastery.

“This will be your first time at the monastery, correct?” The boy wearing a blue mantle over his uniform asked Byleth after they had been walking for a while.

Byleth responded with a nod.

“It really is Fódlan in a nutshell,” Claude remarked. “The good and the bad.”

“Like it or not, we’ll be there soon enough,” Edelgard replied in a rather condescending tone.

Sure enough, it did not take much longer before the procession finally made their way out of the woods, revealing a massive castle-like structure sitting on top of a nearby hill, surrounded by other buildings that seemed to form a large town around it.

“There it is.” Edelgard pointed out, a note of bitterness in her voice. “Garreg Mach Monastery.”

Alois and Jeralt continued to lead the rest of their procession up the hill, until they reached the gate. At that point, Alois shouted an order to his knights, who dispersed and headed towards what Byleth assumed must have been where their barracks were located. With the knights gone, Byleth was able to walk up to his father as they walked up towards the what seemed to be the main building of the monastery. Jeralt looked up and muttered something under his breath.

“Rhea’s here.”

Byleth glanced towards the balcony his father was eyeing warily. A woman with light green hair and dressed in ornate gold and blue robes stared back down at them. Though it was hard to make out much detail from that distance, Byleth couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen this woman somewhere before. He couldn’t quite tell where he remembered her from.

* * *

Byleth and Jeralt were left along in a large audience chamber on the Monastery’s second floor. Byleth had been in countless similar rooms belonging to various nobles around the continent and found that this one actually seemed rather plainer than he was expecting. Apart from a very expensive-looking throne at the other end of the chamber, the room seemed rather baren.

“It’s been years since I’ve last set eyes on this place,” Jeralt muttered. “To be forced to see her now…”

“Rhea?” Byleth repeated the name he had heard his father saw earlier.

“That’s right.” Jeralt nodded. “Although it would probably be best to address her as Lady Rhea. The people around here can get rather offended when they think that their archbishop isn’t being shown the proper level of respect.”

“The archbishop? So then she’s the one in charge of the Church of Seiros?”

Before Jeralt could give an answer, Lady Rhea entered the room along with a grim-looking attendant in dark blue clothing.

“Thank you for your patience, Jeralt,” The dark green-haired man said. “My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the archbishop.”

“Right, hello.” Jeralt greeted the man before turning to Rhea as she began to speak.

“It has been a long time, Jeralt,” Lady Rhea said wistfully. “I wonder… was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?”

“Forgive my silence all these years.” Jeralt replied. “Much has happened since we last spoke.”

“So I see.” Rhea turned her gaze to Byleth for a moment. “The miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. This is your child, is it not?”

“Yes, born many years after I left this place.” Jeralt confirmed, though something seemed off to Byleth. “I wish I could introduce you to the mother of my child but I’m afraid that we lost her to illness sometime back.”

Jeralt rarely spoke of Byleth’s mother. Growing up, Byleth hadn’t even realized that he ever had one. For Jeralt to so casually bring her up was highly unusual. Plus, Jeralt’s pointing out the timeline of Byleth’s birth in relation to his leaving the monastery seemed odd, when it hadn’t been brought up. There was clearly something wrong here.

“I see. My condolences. As for you,” Rhea turned to address Byleth directly, “I heard of your valiant efforts from Alois. What is your name?”

“I am known as the Ashen Demon.” Byleth answered with his usual greeting.

“Is this some kind of joke to you?” Seteth asked angrily. “To not only refuse the basic courtesy of telling us your name, but to make up such a profane title-”

“It is all right, Seteth,” Rhea assured her aide before turning back to Byleth. “My dear, I am called Rhea. I am the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. In truth, I was only being polite. I already know your name, Byleth Eisner, and what a fine name that it is. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for saving those students of the Officers Academy.”

Jeralt grunted, drawing Rhea’s attention.

“You already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?” She asked him.

“You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “I won’t say no, but…”

“Your apprehension stings.” Rhea sounded heart. “Though I believe we would all be grateful if you were to assist the order again. Alois will fill you in on the detail later, but for now I have a request for your son as well.”

“No,” Jeralt said without any hesitation. “I’ll listen to what Alois has to say, I at least owe him that much. But I don’t want my son involved with your organization.”

“How dare you-“ Seteth started to shout before Rhea held out a hand to silence him.

“I am sorry to hear that you feel so strongly on this subject,” Rhea said. “But Byleth is a man now, is he not? He should be allowed to choose for himself whether or not he is will to work for the church.”

“I guess you’ve got me there,” Jeralt grumbled. “So, kid, what do you think?”

“Work’s work,” Byleth replied. “If you need a mercenary and you’re willing to pay, then I’ll do whatever job you need me to.”

“Good, but I am afraid that I do not wish to hire you for your expertise in the mercenary field. Or at least, not entirely. You are aware that we hold an Officers Academy here at the monastery, correct?”

Byleth nodded.

“As am sure you know, a group of our students were attacked by bandits, three of whom were the ones you requested your aid this morning. I’m afraid that the professor who was accompanying them ran off when the students were attacked. Naturally, we cannot continue to employ anyone who would abandon our students at the mere sign of danger, which means that we now have a vacant position that needs to be filled. If you are willing, I would like for you to fill that position.”

“You can’t be serious.” Seteth’s reaction indicated that he had not been informed of Rhea’s decision. “This man is a stranger and a mercenary. We cannot allow someone we don’t know, with no recommendations, to be put in charge of our students!”

“That is not entirely true,” Rhea explained. “He is the son of Jeralt, who is not only the former captain of the Knights of Seiros but also an old personal friend. On top of that, he has come recommended to us.”

“What are you talking about?” Jeralt asked. “Who would have recommended my son to be one of your professors?”

“I have already spoken with the three students whom you lent your aid to this morning. They all spoke highly not only of your combat skill when dealing with those bandits, but also of how you were able to instruct them while doing so. You may not have much experience as a teacher but I believe that you are the right fit for the role. Of course, whether or not you accept the position is up to you.”

Byleth contemplated his options. He had helped to train many of the other mercenaries in his father’s company before. But that was not the same as being a teacher. He new little of the history of Fódlan, the teachings of the Church, or anything else that he might be expected to teach. Rhea likely already new that, though, and it wasn’t like he could just turn down the perfect opportunity to finally learn more about his past. Byleth had many questions about himself and somehow he knew that this was the place where he would finally get his answers. He might have to go out his area of expertise but in theory it would be worth it.

“I accept,” Byleth said at last. “But I’m a mercenary. All I can teach is how to fight and how to survive, and I doubt I’d be teaching those noble brats the things that their families want them learning. But if you still want me and you’re willing to pay, I’ll take the job.”

Seteth turned to Rhea apprehensively, hoping that this was all just a joke and that she wasn’t seriously considering hiring Byleth as their new professor. His hopes were dashed, however, as she spoke.

“Thank you,” Rhea bowed elegantly. “Of course, the points you have raised are valid, but I believe that you will be fine. Much of the curriculum will be provided for you, and the other professors may assist you with teaching things that you may not be as familiar with. I must step away for now, but the other professors will be able to tell you more about what your responsibilities will be. Until tomorrow, farewell Professor, Jeralt.”

With that, Lady Rhea left the room to attend some other business. Seteth glared at both Byleth and Jeralt before following her out the doorway. Once they were alone, Jeralt turned to his son.

“That certainly came out of the blue,” he said. “I’m surprised you took the job. Teaching doesn’t really seem like your thing.”

“I’ve head the Church pays well,” Byleth shrugged, keeping his true motivation to himself. “And who knows, maybe I can manage to recruit some of those noble kids and start my own mercenary company.”

That got a laugh from Jeralt. “That’d be the day.”

“What about you?” Byleth asked. “You going to rejoin the knights?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Jeralt replied. “But I suppose I might consider it. I’ll see what Alois has to say before making up my mind. If I remember correctly, the professors’ offices should be along that last hallway we passed on the way here, if you want to try and talk to them. Although this might be them now.”

Two people walked into the audience chamber. One was an older, grey-haired man wearing a brown coat and suit, with a monocle over his right eye. The other was an only-slightly-younger woman with a rather revealing dress and white shawl. As they approached to Byleth and his father, the woman walked up to Jeralt.

“So, you must be the new professor,” the woman said. “My, how stern and handsome you are!”

“Er, no,” Jeralt seemed to grow uneasy from her attention, and turned to Byleth. “You can handle things here. Good luck.”

Jeralt motioned to leave but stopped and whispered in Byleth’s ear. “And… watch out for Lady Rhea.. She may be up to something, so stay on guard.”

Jeralt then darted out of the room, leaving Byleth alone with the two people that he assumed must have been his fellow professors. The woman then began to look him up and down, sizing Byleth up.

“Oh,” she sounded disappointed. “It’s you, then? So young…”

“Competence and age are not necessarily correlated, as you well know,” The man told her, before holding his hand out to Byleth. “I am Hanneman von Essar, A Crest scholar and professor at the Officers Academy.”

“Crest scholar?” Byleth asked as he shook Hanneman’s outstretched hand.

“Yes, you do know what crests are, don’t you?” Hanneman seemed concerned by Byleth’s potential lack of knowledge on the subject.”

“They’re those things that nobles use to justify acting like they’re better than everyone else,” Byleth replied. “Supposedly, they make people stronger.”

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” Hanneman seemed rather embarrassed by that explanation of his chosen field of study. “They do grant their bearers with abilities beyond what the average human is capable of, and many nobles do tend to rely a bit too much on their crests to back their authority. But there is a lot more to them then that. When next you have moment to spare, I insist that you pay me a visit so that we can discuss the subject in further detail.”

“And I’m Manuela Casagranda, by the way,” the woman forced her way back into the conversation. “I’m a professor, a physician, and songstress and available. It’s nice to meet you.”

“That’s a lot of roles for one person,” Byleth noted.

“Why yes, I suppose it is,” Manuela said teasingly. “I spend most of my time now either teaching or in the infirmary. But of course, before I came here I belonged to a renowned opera company. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? The Mittelfrank Opera Company’s beautiful, peerless-”

“Spare our colleague the needless chatter, Manuela,” Hanneman cut her off. “Now then, it seems that you’ll be taking charge of one of the academy’s three houses. I expect you haven’t yet been briefed on the nature of each, have you?”

“What three houses?” Byleth asked.

“They haven’t even told you that much?” Manuela seemed shocked to hear this. “Weel then, I guess we’ll have to start with the basics. The Officers Academy here in Garreg Mach devides its students into three houses, which are each primarily sorted based off of the three nations that make of Fódlan. There’s the Black Eagle House for students from the Adrestian Empire, the Blue Lion House for students from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Golden Deer House for students from the Leicester Alliance.”

“Each of the houses has a house leader, which will usually be whichever student holds the highest position in their home nation,” Hanneman added. “This year, the house leaders are Princess Edelgard, who’s next in line to be the emperor of Adrestia, Prince Dimitri, who’s to be the next king of Faerghus, as well as Claude, who’s the grandson of Duke Reigan, leader of the Alliance.”

“So the three students that I helped this morning are the future rules of all Fódlan.” This information came as a surprise to Byleth, yet suddenly things started to make a lot more sense. It was no wonder that the bandits had targeted those three specifically. “That’s interesting to know.”

Byleth pulled out a notebook out from a pocket at his belt and began to scribble down everything he had just been told.

“Is that a magic quill?” Hanneman noted Byleth’s choice in writing instrument, an ornate silver device enchanted to never run out of ink. “Those are quite rare. I have one of my own that cost quite a few gold coins. Wherever did you manage to get one?”

“I took it from a merchant as part of my payment for a job,” Byleth answered as stuffed both the journal and the quill back in his pocket.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Manuela sounded intrigued. “What was the job?”

“A rival merchant hired me to rob him.” Byleth replied.

“Oh.” That was certainly not the answer Manuela had expected. “From what I’ve heard of Captain Jeralt, I never expected him to do that kind of thing, even as a mercenary.”

“He didn’t,” Byleth explained. “I took that job on my own. Didn’t particularly care for it, though, and stopped taking on that kind of work after that.”

“What were we talking about, again?” Manuela tried to change the subject.

“Ah, yes,” Hanneman was more than obliged to steer the conversation back on track. “We were just discussing the three houses. Each year we choose amongst ourselves which professor will be teaching which house for the rest of the year.”

“And since you’re new here, we’ve decided to let you get first choice,” Manuela added. “Although, since you don’t know much about the houses yet, I’d suggest that try and talk to each of the house leaders first and get their input to help you decide. And feel free to take your time… oh, I’ve just realized that we forgot to get your name.”

“I am known as the Ashen Demon,” Byleth immediately realized that was the wrong thing to say. “But I suppose I should stop introducing myself that way. My name is Byleth Eisner.”

“The Ashen Demon, huh,” Hannaman seemed to think something over. “Come to think of it, I have heard stories of a mercenary by that name before. If any of them are true, then I wonder if you might bear a Crest of your own.”

Manuela mouthed the word ‘run’ before speaking up again. “Why don’t we let the Professor get going. No doubt Seteth while be wanting to meet with us later and he should at least have an idea of which house he’d like to teach by then.”

“Of course, of course,” Hanneman said. “Come back when you think that you’ve made up your mind.”

Byleth nodded and made his way out of the Audience Chamber. After heading downstairs, he walked out into a grand hall filled with people. At the other end, he saw a now-familiar white-haired girl who appeared to be waiting for someone.

Spoiler: Plans for the story (Three Houses Spoilers)

As I already mentioned, Ashen Skies would have mostly followed the Blue Lions path at first, gradually breaking away as Byleth's actions and small changes to characterizations and interpersonal dynamics result in a butterfly effect that alters the course of Fodlan's history. One of the big things is that Byleth takes an active interest in trying to learn what secrets people are keeping (likely abusing Divine Pulse to get information without others knowing) and trying to get the three houses to cooperate with each other, as well as the events of Cindered Shadows shaking up the status quo. This would eventually reach its head with Jeralt's death, at which point Byleth has a breakdown and essentially orders all of the major characters to gather together for a meeting, where he tells them all everything he's learned about his and does his best to convince them to share their secrets with each other so that everyone is on the same page and can work together to fight Those Who Slither in the Dark. Unfortunately, who only succeeds in winning over some of them to his cause, with Rhea and Edelgard in particular refusing to cooperate. The then end up fighting Kronya as normal, but Byleth emotional instability at that point leads to him stopping Thales from killing Kronya so that he can kill her himself, and then interrupting Thales' spell before her can cast it. The result is a magical explosion that leaves Byleth, Kronya and Thales nowhere to be found. This would serve as the finale of the first story arc, though I'm not sure if I want to go over the later arcs yet as there's still a possibility that I might get back to the story.

 

Before I started Becoming a Champion, I had decided that I wanted to start up a new Pokémon fanfic and went through a lot of ideas before finally deciding to just go with one. I'll probably be sharing my ideas for a few of these stories that I could have ended up writing instead of that one, but the one I'm going to be specifically sharing today is one that I would have called Legendammerung (a combination of Legendary and Gotterdammerung, the name of a famous opera based off of the Norse story of Ragnarok).
This series would have been a collection of short stories set in a version of the Pokémon world where the player characters never existed, which would work together to tell a larger narrative chronicling the end of the world. A lot of these stories would have been particularly dark, violent and grim, likely even more so than the Castlevania story I shared a few days ago, feating intense violence, the literal apocalypse a lot of in-story deaths (both Pokémon and humans) and possibly even cannibalism in one story. I never got around to actually writing any of these short stories, but I did plan out quite a few, which I'll share below. I hadn't really decided on an order for the stories, so the following listing is mostly random. (Note that I had only come up with titles for a few of the stories.)

Spoiler: Legendammerung Outlines

The Birth of a Monster
This would have been the first story I would have written for the setting, detailing the creation of Mewtwo from the perspectives of some of the scientists working on the project. It would have mainly been told from Dr. Fuji, and included a corporate espionage subplot where a couple of the scientists are secretly leaking information on the project to the highest bidders. The climax of the story would come as Mewtwo snaps as a result of the heavy abuse he suffers at the hands of some of the scientists, destroying the island laboratory and killing most of the scientists, with only Dr. Fuji and a couple others (including the leakers) managing to get onto the emergency boats and sail away as Mewtwo destroys the island.
Blood Red
Another Mewtwo focused story, which I'll probably skip if I ever decide to actually turn this project into reality. A couple of young trainers arrive at Cerulean City only to find that the Gym has already closed for the day, so they decide to pass the time by exploring. They are told not to go into Cerulean Cave, but sneak in anyway, where they discover Mewtwo, who has been hiding there ever since the events of Birth of a Monster. The two children try to catch Mewtwo, sending him into another violent outburst where he brutaly murders the trainers before realizing what he's done and fleeing in terror.
Present Groudon Vs. Kyogre Story
Team Magma and Team Aqua revive their respective legendary Pokémon, which both subsequently go out of control and end up destroying the Hoenn Region before Rayquaza manages to enlist the help of Zinnia in order to Mega Evolve and stop the fight. Most of Hoenn's population would have been wiped out and region itself left in ruin.
Darkrai Story
The Darkrai imprisoned on Newmoon Island manages to escape and wreaks havoc across the Sinnoh region. Cresselia is unable to stop it on her own, so she enlists Cynthia's help. Eventually, Cynthia managed to defeat Darkrai and capture it.
Team Plasma Story
Team Plasma are revealed to be one of the organizations that the Mewtwo data was sold to, and have used it to create a level-headed female Mewtwo which can access its Mega Mewtwo Y form and has been indoctrinated into Team Plasma's beliefs (which I will refer to as Mewtwo Y). This Mewtwo befriends N and is able to use its powers to warn him of Ghetsis' plans, allowing N to stop Ghetsis from taking over the world. However, Mewtwo Y is also discovers how flawed Team Plasma's plans are and convinces N to abandon his own plans for the time being.
Team Flare Story
I didn't really have any specific plans for this story (I never played X or Y) other than it would have revealed Team Flare as the other organization that bought the stolen Mewtwo data. There version was able to access its Mega Mewtwo X form but was completely feral, running away immediately upon its creation (I will refer to this one as Mewtwo X).
Mewtwo vs. Mewtwo vs. Mewtwo
The original Mewtwo (which I will now call Mewtwo Prime), Mewtwo Y and Mewtwo X all sense a mysterious power in the Ferrum region that draws them to it. They all find their way to a cave where the Dark Synergy Crystal is hidden, where Mewtwo X attacks the others out of instinct. This results in an incredibly brutal three-way fight between them, before Prime eventually manages to kill X. Prime doesn't stop there, however, and manages to absorb X's power (possibly y cannibalizing X's corpse) and continues to fight Y, now in his Mega X form. Prime then eventually manages to kill Y and take her power in the same way before he returns to the cave and end fuses with the crystal to become Shadow Mewtwo. By this point, Mewtwo Prime has decided that the only thing he is good for is fighting, so he decides to prove his own worth to exist by become the strongest being in existence.
Necrozma
Necrozma arrives in the Alola region via an Ultra Wormhole, and eventually manages to fuse with both Nebby (who becomes a Solgaleo) and a Lunala owned by the Ultra Recon Squad, becoming Ultra Necrozma and destroying the Alola region with its radiance.
Other Stories
There would probably be a few more stories beyond these stories, focusing on other Legendary Pokémon and likely featuring a lot more widespread destruction as the world slowly comes to an end. One possible plotline would be that a few trainers from around the world (including Zinnia, Cynthia, N and likely a few others) end up uniting and try to stop the destruction and chaos only to fail.
The Twilight of the Legends
The grand finale of the series, detailing the final battle between the strongest legendaries duking it out as the world comes to an end. Likely contenders for this battle royal include Shadow Mewtwo, Mega Rayquaza, Arceus (backed by the Creation Trio), Zygarde 100%, Ultra Necrozma and Eternamax Eternatus. Regardless of who all would end up this this fight, the results will be the same. All of them die in the end and the world as we know it comes to an end. However, in the spirit of Ragnorok, I would likely have it so that a small group of humans do manage to survive, with an ending that implies that the world will manage to begin again without the titans who once ruled it. In that case, I could also possibly have some of Zygarde's calls and cores survive as an analogue to Baldur's resurrection in some versions of Ragnarok.

I like a lot of the ideas I had for this series and may eventually end up actually writing it. However, if I do then I will likely make a lot of heavy changes. Some of the stories that I had planned will likely get cut (especially Blood Red, I don't know why I thought that one would be a good idea) and a lot more will likely be added. In particular, I think I would want to focus more on stories set in the past, such as a detailed account of Arceus creating the world,the original battle between Groudon and Kyogre, etc., with a few stories scattered in to tell the originally intended narrative. Also something to note is that I would have played around with the way that Pokémon battles are handled, only describing their actions and attacks without specifying what, if any, moves they us. This was something that was intending from the start with this story and will remain if I ever get around to writing it.

 

Thank you for the input! The main reason I singled out Blood Red as one that I'd leave out if I were to get back to this story is because it feels really out of place. Most of these stories are meant to have a strong influence from monster movies and disaster movies, whereas Blood Red would have been more of a slasher film-type story that would be very tonally different. Sure, nearly everyone ends up dying in the setting anyway, but there's something more personal about having a story about a couple of kids getting straight of murdered compared to millions of people dying in collateral damage, that I don't thing would fit the overall tone very well. That story also wouldn't really serve much narrative purpose to the overarching mythos, simply explaining the gap between Mewtwo's birth and his involvement in other stories. While I could still use it, it would be better as just something mentioned in the narrative of one of the other stories (likely the Prime vs. X. vs. Y fight) rather than having to be an individual story of its own.
I haven't seen that specific episode of the anime, though I have heard of it. I don't remember if Guzzlord's world (which also appears in Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon, but with much less focus) was an inspiration for this. As far as I recall, the original idea for this was to adapt a spinoff I had planned for my old Pokémon fanfic (Four Journeys) into something not connected to that story (this is why Mewtwo had such a focus in the stories I had planned, as the original version would have starred him), combined with a mythology-inspired end-of-the-world narrative (plus the logical idea that massive battles between legendary Pokémon would cause massive destruction on a level that could easily wipe out the planet).
I also agree with your thoughts regarding the ending of 'dark' fics. You've got to have that bit of hope or light at the end, or else what was even the point of the story? Looking back on it, there's no way I could write this story without having a hopeful ending, even if it would be a very bittersweet one. Plus, the mythological inspiration works into that as well, as stories detailing the end of the world never seem to actually be the end, especially the story of Ragnarok which ends with humanity ultimately surviving the end and rebuilding afterwards.

 

Another potential Pokémon fanfic I could have started instead of Becoming a Champion was a story tentatively titled Johto Jamboree (I say tentatively titled because I would be surprised if that name hasn't already been used but haven't gotten around to checking). The story would have been set in an alternate game timeline where Ethan (the Gen II protagonist) goes missing half-way through his journey, leaving it up to Youngster Joey and a team of other trainers to find out what happened to him. I actually hadn't come up with much of a plot beyond the premise, but I did have a rough idea of who all would have been in the main team.

Spoiler: The Team

Youngster Joey: A young trainer is asked by Professor Elm to try and find out what happened to Ethan. He has a Rattata (in the top percentage of Rattata) and a Chikorita given to him by Elm as thanks for agreeing to find Ethan.
Bug Catcher Wade: A collector of Bug-type Pokémon. He has a Butterfree and a Beedrill.
Picnicker Liz: A girl addicted to her phone, who may or may not have ended up in a will-they-won't-they relationship with Joey. Has a Nidorina and a Weepinbell.
Fisherman Ralph: An avid fisherman. Has a Goldeen and a Quilfish.
Hiker Anthony: A frontiersman in pursuit of the elusive Dunsparce. Has a Geodude and a Machop.

 

Thank you. I do hope to eventually get around to this idea one way or another. It would probably be a lighthearted, character-driven adventure with mystery elements, as the group of complete strangers connected only through a mutual friendship explore the Johto region while trying to find any lead onto what happened to their missing friend (and also Silver and Lyra, but who cares about them? I apparently don't considering that I forgot to mention that they disappeared with Ethan). In some ways, it could be considered the polar opposite of what Legendammerung was meant to be in terms of tone and storytelling.

On an unrelated note, I have just noticed that I keep italicizing Becoming a Champion and then forgetting to do the same for the titles of the unfinished stories. Whoops.

 

This next Pokémon fanfic was a writing exercise that I started and then quickly forgot about. My goal was to try writing a story without anything in mind other than how to start it, and then make it all up as I go along. It turns out that I can not write that way, though in retrospect a noire-inspired mystery was not the best choice for this writing style. I may eventually take the premise this story turned into and turn it into a proper short story at some point. It's also one of the rare cases of me writing in first person, which I actually prefer over third-person and I'm not sure why I don't use it very often. In fact, that's part of why I made it a noire mystery, as I feel like the grizzled detective is one of my strongest 'voices' when writing first person narration (Although I would like a second opinion on that).

Spoiler: Unnamed Noire Pokémon Story

The City of Grandeur. Whoever came up with that little name has clearly never been out on the streets at night. Especially not during a rain storm in the middle of winter. I’m sure it would be nice to be that person. Unfortunately, I was not.

I made my way down a dark alleyway, making sure to move briskly so as to not catch any unwanted attention. The streets were filled with beggars and winos wanting to panhandle a few bucks off of anyone naïve enough to linger and that’s without getting into the crazies. I was determined not to spend a second longer out here in this Arceus-forbidden cesspit and neither night shade nor water spout was going to slow me down. As such, it didn’t take me long to get where I was going.

The Fractured Fraxure was probably one of the oldest and seediest watering holes in Castelia, almost as old as the city itself. Once upon a time it was one of the liveliest places in the city this time of night, but those days were long gone. Still, it wasn’t a bad place to wet your grass whistle. Particularly if what you were really looking for was information. I stepped inside the run-down tavern and closed the door behind me, before making a combee line for the bar, taking a seat at my usual spot.

The bartender walked up to me and asked me what I was drinking. I asked for the usual, a glass of which was soon clutched loosely in my hand. No sooner then I had nursed my first sip than a nasty-looking fella with a face like a druddigon sat down on the stool next to mine.

“Didn’t think that I’d be seeing you here tonight.” The man grumbled, pulling out a lighter. “Working a case?”

“Why else would I be here?” I replied after taking another drink. “What do you know about the Haven’s Braviary?”

The man paused before lighting the cigarette in his hand, his eyes widening just long enough to make it clear that he knew a lot about the statuette in question. Ol’ Johnny Fletcher wasn’t to let himself be read so easily, which made his reaction something of a novelty.

“What did you get yourself into?” Johnny asked me incredulously.

“That’s for me to know.” I replied, almost bemused by his reaction. “Now I take it you’ve heard of the bird but what can you tell me about it.”

“What can’t I tell you about it?” Johnny chuckled as he let out a breath of smoke.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Alright, alright.” He acted defensively, which was even more out of character for the man. “Back in the 16th century, there was some kind’a organization what called themselves The Knights of Aura. I don’t know much about ‘em but it was said that at one point they made some kind o’ braviary statue made of solid gold, which they gave to the Queen of Galar as a gift. About a century later it was stolen along a bunch of other priceless treasures, never to be seen again. No one knows for sure what happened to it, but conspiracy theorists have run wild. The most popular theory seems to be that it was taken by group of rogue Knights of Aura that wanted to take back what they felt was rightfully theirs. No one can seem to agree on what they did with it afterwards, though.”

I could tell that Johnny wasn’t telling me the whole story. However, pressing him to much could prove a mistake. Instead, I finished the rest of my drink in one go and putting my money on the counter. I was already headed out the door before Johnny even noticed I was gone.

 

I know I marked this thread as fanfiction, but I see no reason that I can't share some of my original stories, too. I've actually come up with quite a few ideas for original novels, in a variety of different genres, and really enjoy coming up with them. Unfortunately, I always seem to fizzle out early when I start actually writing them, never even finishing the first chapter of any of them. Which is a shame, cause I'm sure there are people out there that would love to read these stories and I wish I could get myself to finish at least one of them. (Also keep in mind that these are very early drafts.)

Anyway, the first original story that I'll be sharing here is one that I call Titan Alter, about a boy traveling a post-apocalyptic wasteland alongside a steadily growing group of friends, uncovering the conspiracies that lie behind the current state of the world as he searches for his missing father. Oh, and he finds a giant robot that he uses to fight equally giant demons along the way. Here's what I actually have written so far:

Spoiler: Titan Alter

A lone figure made its way across the deserted wilderness, heading towards a city off in the distance. As the figure approached the city and the buildings came closer into view, it soon became apparent that something was off about them. The city should have been busy and bustling with life, but there was no sign of any movement within the city’s walls. When the figure reached the edge of the city, it quickly became clear what was wrong.

The young traveler lifted the hood of his brown cloak to reveal his face and pulled down his goggles to hang around his neck. He could feel a powerful presence coming from somewhere inside the city, but there was no telling where it was. The traveler reached underneath his cloak and pulled out an old handgun. He was almost out of ammo, but if he was lucky he wouldn’t need to use it.

The young man crept along the narrow alleyways between the large stone buildings that made up Gigante Carmesi, also known as the City of the Crimson Giant. Clotheslines hung between open windows up above. The man nearly tripped over a ball that had been left in the middle of the street. The city showed every sign of having a large, active population except that there was no one in sight. It was as if everyone in the city had all disappeared at once.

Eventually, the man turned a corner that opened up into the central plaza and immediately stepped back and pressed his back up against the side of the building he was beside. He cautiously peered back around the corner, where it lay.

It looked like a massive pure-white egg resting peacefully on the ground. But the man knew that it was something much, much more terrible than that. Everything the man feared had just become a reality. He had spent years searching for this city, only to find the entire population devoured by a demon, which was now sleeping there in the middle of the city, as if mocking him.

The man ducked behind the wall again and began making his way around. He needed to get to the other end of the city and it was clear that the quickest route there was off limits. He ducked and weaved between the buildings, which now felt as if they were walling him in with that thing. It was unlikely for the demon to awaken anytime soon, but he wasn’t willing to risk it. He kept his gun out and ready and always made sure to check around every corner and intersection that he passed by to make sure that it wasn’t in his line of sight. Because if he could see it and it awoke, then it would be able to see him.

At last the man made his way to the edge of the city. As he stepped back out into the desert and put his goggles back on, he spotted his true destination. The Temple of the Titan was built away from the city, carved into the side of a mountain and designed to be a likeness to the Titan itself. The temple looked like some kind of monstrous stone giant resting a calm, meditative pose that felt at odds with its bestial appearance.

The man turned back one last time to make sure that the sleeping demon had not awakened and followed after him, then made his way to the entrance of the temple. As he got closer to it the temple fell into sharper focus, highlighting its terrifying appearance. To anyone not familiar with what it was, the image of the Titan would probably seem like a monster. But it was more than that. It was the one who fought monsters like the one sleeping only a few miles away. But that was not why the man had come. His reasons for seeking out this temple were much more personal than seeking solace in the Demon Slayer. He was there to finally learn the truth after all of these years. He was here to find his father.

He walked through the entrance and into the temple. He was surprised to find that it was still lit by torchlight, as he would have expected the lights to have burned out by this point. He looked around and noticed that there was a large mural painted across the far wall. The crimson red, horned figure of the Titan was depicted, locked in combat with the sleek, white form of the First Demon. There was something in front of the mural, which the traveler couldn’t quite make out in the dim lighting. He decided to take a few steps closer to get a better look at it. As he was walking, he accidentally tripped over a broken floor tile and nearly fell down. The thing in front of the mural suddenly rose up and turned around, revealing that it was a woman, apparently praying to the Titan.

“H-hello? Is someone there?” The woman asked nervously. Through the torchlight, the young man was able to see that she had moderately long black hair that she kept pulled back. She wore a simple red dress which the young man recognized as the standard outfit worn by priestesses in service to the Church of the Titan. The young man guessed that she was probably around ten years older than him, somewhere in her early thirties. She must have been here at the temple when the Demon attacked the city, which would be how she was able to survive.

“I’m just a traveler looking for someplace to rest for the night.” The young man replied, holding his hands up in a gesture meant to show that he meant no harm.

The woman sighed in relief. “Welcome to the Temple of the Titan! You are welcome to stay as long as you like, though I am afraid that I cannot offer you anything more than a roof over your head.”

“That’s fine. I know resources can be scarce, even at the best of times.” The young man looked around. “So… are you the only one here?”

The woman’s smile faded and the young man could see the sorrow behind her eyes. “Yes. I stayed here to watch over the temple while my fellow sisters and brothers went to town. Then it happened, out of nowhere. I didn’t even know what was going on at first and by the time I realized… by the time I realized they were already… they were already…”

The woman could barely hold herself together and the young man knew exactly why. She was not the first person he had met who had lost everything and everyone practically in the blink of an eye. And she would not be the last. He knew some of that pain himself, which is what allowed him to help others go through it.

The young man walked up to the woman and put his arms around her firmly, yet gently. At once, all of the woman’s strength seemed to leave her and she would have fallen to the floor if the young man were not holding her up.

“I know it can be hard.” The young man said as calmingly as he could. “But they’ve moved on to a better place.”

“I know.” The woman sobbed. “But I just… I just can’t…”

“You don’t have to.” The young man replied. “Not yet, at least. I don’t think anyone can truly get over something like this, but eventually you will learn to move on.”

They stayed there like that for what felt like a very, very long time until the woman finally stopped crying and was able to stand up again.

“I’m sorry about that.” The woman said as she pulled away from the young man and wiped away the last of her tears.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” The young man shook his head. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

The woman smiled weakly. “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself yet. My name is Felicia, priestess of the Titan.”

“Well, Felicia,” the young man smiled back, “you can call me Seth. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Felicia nodded and gave a polite bow with her arms spread out almost as if forming a ‘w’, a traditional gesture of greeting within the Church of the Titan. “Normally pilgrims who come to visit the temple stay in the city, but obviously that is no longer an option. I suppose you could stay in the brethren’s quarters. I doubt they would mind.”

“That would be fine.” Seth gave a similar bow.

“Great! Then I will show you to where you will be staying.” Felicia turned towards one of the hallways leading out of the main chamber that they were in. “Follow me. Though be careful. There was an earthquake when the demon… well, some of the hallways may not be safe and the floors and ceilings have already given way in some places.”

Seth followed Felicia down the hallway, where he saw what she meant. They treaded lightly as they made their way, passing by a few points where they had to be careful not to trip or fall down. It appeared that the temple must have been built above some sort of ancient catacomb or labyrinth, and one wrong step could potentially lead them straight down there. Fortunately the way wasn’t too bad and they were able to make it to their destination without any real trouble.

“This is it.” Felicia gestured towards the door that they stopped in front of. “You may stay here as long as you wish, though I wouldn’t recommend spending too much time here, as we have very little food or water left.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying for more than a day.” Seth said. “But what about you?”

“I will stay here to watch over the temple as long as I can.” She explained. “It is my duty as a priestess of the Titan.”

“But what about when you run out of food?” Seth asked. “There isn’t another settlement within three days’ journey of here.”

“Everything that happens is as the Titan wills it. If I should perish, then so be it. I will be able to rejoin my brothers and sisters in the next world.”

Seth turned away so that Felicia wouldn’t see the look of distaste on his face. He knew that starvation would be a horrible way to go and that dehydration could be even worse. Even if she could take comfort in her fate through her faith, he could not.

“If you need anything, just ask me.” Felicia bowed again before turning to leave. “Though, I am not sure that I can really provide you with anything more than just spiritual guidance.”

Seth placed his hand on the door and stared at the floor as he listened to Felicia’s footsteps as she walked back to the main chamber. He had been raised to see things differently than most people and his father had taught him that the Titan was anything but the God it was worshiped as. He wasn’t even sure if he believed in an afterlife, a fact which had caused him more pain than he would care to admit given how harsh the world they lived in could be.

When the sound of Felicia’s footsteps had faded away completely, Seth took a deep breath to steel his resolve. He looked back up, straightened his posture and turned away towards the other end of the hallway. He had come to this place for a reason. He was finally going to find the answers he had been searching for his entire adult life.

And how about a two-for-one special? This next story segment is the opening for Darkhunter, the tale of a young woman on a quest to slay a vampire in order to honor her family's legacy. Things do not turn out well for the inexperienced Ariana Darkhunter, however, and she quickly finds herself overwhelmed and left for dead. Will she be able to regain her strength and find a way to defeat the evil Lord Blüdmist? Maybe if I ever finish writing the darn thing.

Spoiler: Darkhunter

A storm raged outside. I listened to the sounds of the wind howling through the trees, the rain pouring down from the heavens and the periodic clap of thunder in the distance. This was not a night to be out on. Yet here I was, riding a stagecoach through the woods.

The coach suddenly came to an unexpected and sudden halt, accompanied by a large crash outside. Worried that something had happened, I called out to the driver.

“What’s going on out there?”

“We can’t go any further!” The old man called back from outside. “The path’s been blocked off! Not that we should even have been going this way in the first place!”

This was not good news. The path being blocked, that is. I already knew the old man thought this trip was a terrible idea. He was right to think so too, considering how things would turn out. But I didn’t care about that. I just opened the door and stepped out onto the muddy ground to see for myself what was in our way.

A large tree lied was strewn the narrow dirt path, struck down by a bolt of lightning. That explained what the crashing noise I heard was. I walked around to the front of the stagecoach and looked up at the driver.

“Did I not pay you to take me to the castle?” I asked him, speaking up so that I could be heard over the rain.

“You did, my lady.” The old man replied. “But this was the only road and there’s no way to go any further until this tree can be moved out of the way, and that won’t be happening until after this forsaken storm finally subsides.”

“Then I will walk the rest of the way.”

I pulled a pouch of gold coins from the pocket of my overcoat and tossed it up to the old man. He managed to catch the small bag and fumbled with it for a moment. Before stashing the gold in his own pocket. He looked at me with a dumbfounded expression that showed that he couldn’t believe what I was doing. I couldn’t blame him. After all, a woman of my stature would never allow herself to be out in such poor weather as this. Let alone insist on walking through an old abandoned forest in the middle of the night during a storm. But I wasn’t just some woman from a noble family.

“You can’t be serious.” The man said. “You can’t go out there on your own!”

“I have business in Blüdmist.” I repeated what I had already told the man before we left.

“Don’t be daft!” The driver yelled. ”That place has been abandoned since before I was even just a boy! You couldn’t possibly have any business out there, let alone something important enough to risk your life in this storm for!”

“And yet I do.” I replied. “And if you have any idea who I am then you will know what that business is.”

“I know very well what family you come from!” The driver shouted angrily at me. “I also know that you’re the only Darkhunter left alive? And why do you think that is? It’s because you’re all just a bunch of fools who don’t know how to stay out of danger. Every member of your gamily has gotten themselves killed chasing after ghost stories and if you keep on like this it won’t be long before you join them.”

“We do not chase after ghost stories!” I could not stand to hear this slight against my family. “We chase after ghosts, and ghouls, and all manner of creatures of the night. We are called the Darkhunters for a reason and I intend to live up to my family’s legacy. Now I suggest you turn around and go home before you catch your death of cold. You have received your payment, so I am no more concern to you.”

“Fine, then. But don’t blame me when things don’t turn out the way you seem to think they will.”

I watched as the driver turned his stagecoach around and rode off back the way we had come from. When he had departed, I turned back around to face the fallen tree blocking my way. I took a deep breath and stepped back a few feet. Then I ran towards the fallen tree and leapt over it as if jumping a fence. I landed on the other side, splashing mud all over my coat and hair in the process. Not that I particularly cared about that at the moment. I just stood up and continued walking towards my destination.

It was hard to see through the dark, rainy night but I was able to make my way between the thick trees and underbrush that filled the woods. Some, like the stagecoach driver, would say that I was a fool for trying to walk through a storm of this magnitude. But I didn’t feel there was any other way. After all, it would be foolish to try and wait out a storm that had already been going on for years without any sign of letting up. The fact that the trees were even still able to stand through this prolonged maelstrom was a testament to their strength. A strength that I thought I shared.

I stepped over a particularly large tree root that was poking up above the ground and stopped for a moment. It was hard to make anything out over the wind and thunder but I thought that I could hear something up ahead. I proceeded with caution as I approached the source of the apparent noise. I lowered my right hand to around my belt, where the sword that had been passed down through my family for countless generations was sheathed. My gripped the handle firmly, ready to draw the emerald-hilted sword at a moment’s notice. The noises I heard grew louder and more distinct as I walked towards a large clearing up ahead. As I reached it, I peered around a tree to see what was there.

Imps. Small, disgusting creatures with crimson red skin that each stood around two-and-a-half feet tall. Their guts were plump and rounded, sitting atop goat-like legs and with a long spiked tail protruding from just above the rear. Their faces were chubby, almost baby-like, with a pair of small, stubby horns sticking out of their scalps. The devilish monstrosities bore expressions that looked like a distorted image of a greedy child being given a platter full of sweats to feast upon as they danced around an iron cage. There appeared to be some kind of small bird trapped within.

In a flurry of motion I ran through the crowd of imps, swinging my sword with an elegance that likely betrayed a sense of wildness. Before the monsters even had a chance to realize what was happening, it was already over for them. Their remains were littered about and their blood was already being washed away by the rain. I wiped off the blade of my sword and placed it back within its sheath before walking up to the cage to release whatever poor animal those imps had captured. But to my surprise, it wasn’t an animal at all.

“P-please don’t eat me!”

I stared at the sparkling blue creature that flittered around in the cage. The look of terror on its face almost resembled the imps as I ended their miserable lives. It looked almost human, like a woman that had been shrunken down to only a few inches tall. A pair of powdery blue wings grew from her back. I had never seen a pixie before and yet almost instantly I knew what she was.

“I’m not going to eat you.” I said as I picked a rock up off the ground and smashed the lock on the cage to let her out. “I’m not like those… things.”

“R-really?” The pixie didn’t move, apparently not convinced that I hadn’t killed the imps just so that I could have her all to myself.

“You’re free now, so fly along to safety.”

I turned away to continue on my way, when the pixie finally left her cage hesitantly. As I left the clearing, she flew past and hovered in front of me.

“Y-you saved me.” The pixie made it sound almost more like a question than a statement. “Why?”

“Because you needed saving.” I replied. “That was the only reason I needed. Now if you excuse me, I’ll be going on my way.”

I took a few more steps, but the pixie flew ahead of me again.

“Wait!” She screamed, waving her arms frantically to get me to stop.

“If you’re going to tell me not to go any further this way, then I am afraid that-”

“It’s not that!” The pixie cut me off. “You saved my life!”

I looked at her in confusion. “I know, we’ve already established that. Now I really should get going.”

I proceeded to take a few more steps, but once again the pixie darted out in front of me.

“Hold it!” She was surprisingly persistent in not letting me proceed. “You saved my life and that means I own you. I can’t just let you leave without repaying that.”

“Well I don’t really need anything right now.” I told her. “Just go back to wherever you came from and I’ll consider your debt payed.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” The pixie insisted. “Look, if you’re going this way then that means that you’re headed to the big castle-place, right? I can show you the way!”

“That isn’t necessary.” I tried to argue. “I’m perfectly fine going on my-”

“I’m going to be your guide and that’s that.” The pixie put her hands on her hips and pumped out her chest in what was apparently a show of defiance. It didn’t really have the intended effect, though. “My name’s Celaria, what’s yours?”

“Ariana.” I sighed. “Ariana Darkhunter.”

“Well, Ariana, the castle is over this way.” Celaria smiled and turned in the direction I was already going.

I have more unfinished original stories that I want to share, but I think this is good for one day. If you find yourself actually interested in my original works for some reason, then I'll leave this link to some old short stories that I wrote years ago when I was just starting out writing.

 

I keep forgetting to update this thread. I've finally started writing again and have made good progress in the next chapter of Becoming a Champion. In fact, I've already written everything I originally had planned for the chapter but realized that it wasn't as long as I wanted, so I've decided to add some extra scenes so that it will be closer to the first couple chapters rather than the standard shorter chapters of my other stories. I'm hoping that it won't take me longer than a week or two to get it done. I also need to get back to reading everyone else's stories again, as I don't think that I've really read much since that time my account was stolen by the Arcadia Virus.
Anyway, this is actually probably one of the first stories I ever stated to write, back when I was in high school. In fact, this is where my habit of not finishing the first chapters of my stories seems to have originates, as I ended up rewriting the opening scene several times without actually finishing it and moving on. Someday I want to finally get back to this story (which I don't think that I've touched in years) and finally finish it.

Spoiler: Escaping Oblivion

A slight breeze blew through the air as a woman walked along an old dirt road through a field of wildflowers. The woman traveled alone as she made her way from the capital city of the local kingdom to the small village along the coast that she called home. It was a long walk back and forth between the two and sometimes she wished she could borrow a horse so that she wouldn’t have to walk the entire way, but there was no one in her village who owned a horse to lend her and they were far too expensive for her to get one of her own. Most of the time she did not mind, however, as the walk gave her a chance to simply relax and enjoy herself as she made her way across the beautiful landscape.

The woman looked around at the bright blue sky overhead and at the fields of dark green grass sprinkled with all kinds of colors from the flowers that grew all over the place in the area. She decided to stop for a moment and pick some of the flowers to make a bouquet to bring home to her daughter. After a few minutes she felt that she had enough and turned to continue on her way home. She froze before taking a step, however, as she heard the sound of a large snort from behind her. She slowly turned around, being careful not to make a sound, and saw a large red creature sitting on the ground only a few yards away. She had never seen anything like it before, but she knew instinctively what it must be.

The troll was staring at the ocean, barely visible off in the distance. The woman felt lucky that it had not noticed her and began to back away slowly, but unfortunately her luck ran out. The troll turned its head slightly and sniffed the air as if it had just caught a whiff of something that had caught its interest. It slowly rose onto its massive feet and picked up the club that lay at its side, which looked less like a weapon and more like a tree that the troll had simply pulled out of the ground. The woman knew that she should take this opportunity to simply run away from the beast before it saw her, but she found herself rooted to the spot in utter terror as the troll turned around and spotted her. Time seemed to stand still as the woman took in the horrible features of the monster.

It stood at twice the woman’s height. Its deep red, leathers skin was drenched in sweat and looked like it was barely enough to cover the creature’s thick, blubbery body that was shaped vaguely like a pear. Its pointy bald head looked like an egg with a demonic looking face and a pair of long, pointed ears coming from either side. The troll looked down at the woman with black, beady eyes as it raised a chubby finger from its empty hand to point at her as if marking its target. The woman barely had time to scream before the beast moved with a speed unlike anything that the woman could have imagined something of its size could move and within seconds it had reached her. The troll let out a sickening roar as it swung its club around, knocking the woman back several yards and destroying the basket of supplies that she was carrying. Assorted food and flower petals from the bouquet she had been making scattered everywhere as the troll prepared another attack. The woman tried to get up to flee, but could barely move from her injuries. The troll lumbered up to her and raised its club to strike her again. The woman knew that this was the end for her and closed her eyes tight so that she wouldn’t have to see it coming. The troll let out a roar, even louder and more horrendous than before, which was followed by a loud thump, and then another. The woman opened her eyes again to see what had happened and it took her a moment to process what she saw.

The troll’s club lay on the ground in front of her, with its hand still clenched firmly around it, sitting in a pool of blood, so dark that it appeared almost black. The troll sat on the ground, looking horrified at the bloody stump that was its right arm. The woman’s gaze was then drawn away from the stunned troll and to the man who stood beside it, carrying a large sword drenched in the troll’s blood. She had no idea who this man was, but he had just saved her life.

Just then, the troll regained its senses and turned to face its attacker. It swiped at him with the clawed nails of its left hand, but the man ducked out of the way and slashed his sword across the troll’s inflated belly, leaving a huge gash across it. The troll let out another roar of pain as it collapsed to the ground and the man swung his sword one final time, ending the monster’s life. He flicked the blood off his sword once the deed was done and it seemed to dissolve the flowers and grass where it splatted on the ground, leaving a crescent of scorched ground. The troll’s body dissolved into dust as the man sheathed his sword and took off his shirt, using it to gather as much of the woman’s supplies as he could before approaching her.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he knelt down and held out a hand to her. The woman grabbed it and tried to pull herself up, but fell back to the ground.

“I don’t think I can walk.” She said, trying to hide the pain that she felt shooting through her ribs.

“Can you hold this?” The man held out his shirt full of he supplies, which she took from him automatically. The man then proceeded to pick her up off the ground, holding her in his arms.

“You were heading this way, right?” The man asked as he turned in the direction that the woman had been walking before this whole incident had started.

“Y-yes.” She said faintly. Was he really going to carry her all of the way to her village? That was a lot for a complete stranger to do.

“Well as it happens, I was going that way myself.” The man laughed. “And I suppose I wouldn’t mind the company on the way there.”

“Th-thank you.” The woman was amazed out how cheery the man seemed to be given the situation.

“So tell me, are trolls common in these parts?” The man asked casually as he started walking.

The woman looked at him incredulously. “Of course they aren’t. Monsters like that haven’t been seen anywhere in over twenty years.”

“Right.” The man chuckled. “Of course not.”

“What were you even doing here, anyway?” The woman asked him.

“I’m just traveling.” The man answered. “Although I don’t know for sure where I’m going yet. You can call me

If I ever get back to this story, the first thing that I need to do is actually come up with names for the characters. There's a reason that I stopped where I did whenever the last time I worked on this was. Since this scene doesn't really tell you anything about the story's actual plot, I'll go ahead and share a few details.

Spoiler

The setting is a relatively standard fantasy world, with a major twist. The monsters that inhabit the setting have a pesky habit of being revived around every 25~30 years or so and tend to cause a lot of damage before the human population are able to wipe them out again. The result is that humans are actually at an even lower technology level than most fantasy settings because they just haven't been able to build up much of anything without it getting destroyed a generation later. The reason the monsters are revived is a result of dark magic wielded by an immortal dragon (or at least that's what its called, it's actually much more monstrous than a traditional dragon) that can only be 'killled' by an extremely powerful spell that can only be used by the women of a single family-line of mages and that drains the user's life completely, and even then it's only a temporary solution every time and the dragon always comes back a generation later, reviving every single monster that was slain in the meantime as well (the monsters can reproduce on their own, which is what keeps their numbers stable). The woman in this scene is the latest member of this bloodline, a recently widowed young mother who has to prepare to sacrifice herself when the dragon next returns, despite her own self doubts. The women of her family are said to each be able to summon a powerful familiar to aide them in their journeys to cast the spell to defeat the dragon, but hers has yet to manifest, making her worry that she won't be able to save the world like she was supposed to. Things start to look up, however, when a mysterious man that bares a striking resemblance to her late husband arrives out of nowhere. Perhaps this stranger could be the key to finally killing the dragon once and for all.
My plans were actually to have this be the first entry in an ongoing series of novels, with each book taking place a generation after the last and focusing on the children of the previous book. Through this storytelling method I wanted to the rise and fall of a major civilization, one step at a time. The first book, Escaping Oblivion, would clear the stage so to speak and allow for the development of larger civilizations than had come before. The later books would then show the rise of an empire that starts out as a benevolent government but gradually becomes more militaristic and expansionist, before eventually beginning to stagnate in progression and culture until the final book, Last Illusion, would show the final collapse of the empire and lead into whatever would come next. This description probably makes the series sound like I had it much more planned out than it really was, though. Beyond what I've already told you I didn't really have much to go on. It was an epic project that I never really had an idea of how to actually make work and I hadn't really come up with plots for most of the planned books. Basically, I had a point A and a point B, without much of an idea on how to connect the two. i do want to eventually go back and at least finish the first book, though, as I like what little of the setting I had come up with and think that it deserves to see the light of day at some point.

 

I was back in the writing mood for a while, finishing chapters for Becoming a Champion and Super Ridley Brothers, then getting started on another SRB chapter and making good progress on the first chapter of Stray Thoughts II. But then I haven't had any motivation to get back to writing since the new year, so progress has slowed down significantly (although I don't think it will last as long, I feel like I'm almost ready to get back to them). So, here's another Zelda fic that's been rattling around in my head for a while now, a fusion of several loose ideas for Breath of the Wild fanfics that I've smashed together into a single storyline. I've been going back and forth on whether or not I actually want to write this story, but I did end up finishing a rough draft for the first chapter (that may not actually end up being the full first chapter) and have a few ideas for where to take it from there. In fact, the first chapter doesn't really feel like a good indicator of what the story will be, so I'm definitely going to want to leave some notes here as well.

Spoiler: The Fall of Hyrule

“Link…”

I gentle voice seemed to echo around the walls of an underground shrine, though no one was around to have uttered the word. A large device build into the chamber activated at the sound, draining a bed of water that contained the shrine’s only inhabitant.

“Link…”

The young man who had been laid to rest in this ancient shrine slowly opened his eyes and groaned before sitting up. He felt like he hadn’t moved in a century and, looking around, he did not know where he even was. The strangely familiar voice that had awakened him faded away as quickly as it had come, leaving the young man alone, half-naked in the unfamiliar shrine.

After taking a moment to adjust to the dim blue lighting emitted from a large structure overhead and stretching to regain proper functionality of his limbs, the man stood up and started walking around. The room he was in seemed to be sealed off, with no obvious way for him to leave. It took a thorough search of the room to finally find what seemed to be the way out, through a large stone doorway that had been sealed shut and looked like it hadn’t been opened in a very long time.

As he continued to search for a way out, a pedestal situated near the closed off doorway suddenly lit up. When the man approached it to investigate, the top of the pedestal flipped over to reveal some sort of device. The man picked up the object by its handle and began to examine it. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about it seemed strangely familiar to him, particularly the eye insignia that covered one side. It was the opposite side that was the intriguing part, however, as a glass-like surface lit up as he held it. Before he examined the strange object further, however, the whole room began to quake as the stone door sunk into the floor. With his path now open, the man set the mysterious object back into the pedestal and sprinted out of the room. To his dismay, however, the short hallway he ran out into merely led to an even larger door blocking his way out. This room wasn’t as empty as the one he had awoken in, however. Old crates and barrels were stacked up against the walls and some sort of chest was positioned next to a stairway leading towards the blocked-off path.

A quick search revealed that the crates and barrels had contained food and other supplies which had not stood up to the test of time, meaning that he had nothing that he would be able to survive off of if he did not find a way out soon. The chest proved to be more promising, however, with a set of ragged out clothes folded up inside. They weren’t much but the man hurriedly put them on anyway. The old rags may not have offered any real warmth or protection but they were still better than running around half-naked as he had been.

Heading down the stairs, the man quickly spotted another strange pedestal like the one that had lit up in the previous room. It even had an indentation that looked like it would fit the strange object that the lest one had held. With this as his only lead, the man rushed back to grab the object and placed it on this new pedestal. Once he had done so, there was another small quake and the door fell away like the last one. Figuring that the object must have been some kind of key, he decided to take it with him before running out to the next room. To his relief, the newly-opened doorway led to a set of stairs leading outside. Unfortunately, a section of the stone steps had eroded away completely, leaving nothing but a large puddle of water in their place. He checked the puddle to see if it was safe to drink, though it was clear that the stagnant water was nowhere close to potable, which meant that he would have to continue to go thirsty for the time being. The man was then able to climb his way out without much further effort.

The man stumbled and fell to his knees as he stepped out into the grassy field outside. The climb may not have been too much on its own, but the man was both parched and hungry, which did not make for a good combination with physical activity. Fortunately, he now found himself in what appeared to be a heavily wooded grassland, which meant that food and water would not be hard to find.

Mustering up his strength, the man stood up again and walked out to a cliff’s edge directly across from the shrine’s entrance so that he could get a good view of his surroundings. He did not recognize the forested landscape before him, though the mountainscapes off in the distance did seem familiar. The most prominent feature on the horizon, however, was the massive castle situated in a valley between the major mountains of the area, which was surrounded by giant monoliths that seemed to almost form a cage around it. The castle seemed to let off a dark presence that the man could feel even from where he stood. There was no way for him to safely descend the sheer cliffside, however, so the man turned to the gradual slope forming a path in the other direction. He quickly spotted a large cathedral of some sort that appeared to be within relatively safe walking distance. It appeared to be in ruins but with no obvious body of water within his current line of sight, heading towards it seemed like his best option for the moment.

Before heading off, however, the man picked up a large, sturdy branch off the ground and sharpened one end of it against a rock to form a crude spear that he could use if he stumbled across any animals on the way that he could hunt or would have to defend himself against. Once that was done, he headed down the mountain path. There seemed to be a lot of mushrooms growing in the area but without any indication of whether or not they were safe to eat he decided not to risk it, and the squirrels foraging nearby were too small and quick for him to catch with just his makeshift spear. After heading down a bit further, he finally found something a bit promising: an apple tree growing at the base of a small incline. With his eyes on the red fruit growing overhead, the man made a beeline for the tree before stopping as he noticed the old man sitting by a campfire underneath a small alcove next to the tree.

“It is a bit strange to see another soul in these parts,” the old man looked up at his new guest. “You look exhausted, why don’t you sit down with me for a moment.”

The young man accepted the elder’s advice and took a seat on the ground by the fire. The older man offered him an old leather waterskin and the young man took a large swig from it. When he tried to hand it back, the old man signaled for him to hold on to it.

“You look like you need that more than I do right now. I can just make myself a new one when I get back to my cabin.”

“Thank you,” the younger man’s voice came out a bit forced, as it was the first time he had made use of it since waking up. “Is there anything I can do for you in return?”

“I don’t think that there’s anything I need help with at the moment.” The old man stroked his long, bushy beard as he considered the offer. “Why don’t you just repay me by letting me know your name.”

“My name?” The young man froze for a second as he realized that he couldn’t remember what his name was. As he thought back, struggling to remember, the voice that had roused him from his slumber came back to him. “Link.”

“Link?” The old man stroked his beard again. “That’s a fine name, an old name. I wish that I shared a strong name like yours, but I’m afraid that I’m just an old fool. So, Link, what brings you here?”

“I’m not sure,” Link stared at the flames in front of him, trying to remember anything from before the moment he woke up but it was as if the memories just weren’t there. “What is this place?”

“This place,” the old man’s expression seemed to change, a sense of sorrow underlying his words. “This is the Great Plateau, where the Kingdom of Hyrule was once founded. Although, there isn’t much of anything here anymore. The way you’re headed leads to the Temple of Time, which was a place of religion in the Old Kingdom, but that’s about all there is to see here. I would suggest visiting the old place if you’re interested. But be careful, the monsters around these parts have been restless lately.”

“Thank you,” Link nodded again before standing back up. “It was nice to meet you, but I should be going now.”

“Farewell, and safe travels,” the old man said as Link went back to the tree and picked a few apples for the trip. “Although I doubt this will be the last time we see each other.”

“What do you mean?” Link asked.

“Oh, you’ll see soon enough,” the old man chuckled. “For now, just know that I wasn’t joking when I said there wasn’t much of anything around here.”

On that ominous note, Link headed back on his way to the temple. Taking a bite out of the first apple, he reflected on the stranger’s words. If there were monsters in the area, then he would have to be on guard. He was also going to have to have more than his makeshift spear for protection.

The winding path Link traveled quickly led him past a lake he hadn’t been able to see earlier. Link took the opportunity to finish off the waterskin the old man had given him, then refilled it after checking to make sure the lake’s water was safe. While he did so, a reflection caught his eye and he glanced over to a small island in the middle of the lake, where something metallic was sticking out from the ground. It was hard to tell at a distance, but it looked like a sword. Deciding that it could be useful, Link stuffed his places the waterskin in the satchel that had been included with the clothes he found earlier, along with the remaining apples and the strange key, and set down his spear. Now that he had a chance to regain his energy, Link was able to dive into the lake and swim across to the island easily.

Now that he was able to get an up-close look at the sword, however, he understood why it had been abandoned there. What had likely once been a well-crafted broadsword was now little more than a dented slab of rusty iron. Link would have been more likely to injure himself trying to use the faded blade than any enemies he might need to defend himself against. With a sigh, Link turned back to swim to shore again. However, it appeared that was no longer a viable option.

A pack of pig-nosed monsters with large ears and a single horn atop their head were walking over to where Link had left his spear. They came in a variety of colors, five red, three blue and two black while the one leading them had light skin that shone like silver. Link instinctively recognized them as Bokoblins, which were weak enough on their own that they weren’t normally a threat but could give even a seasoned warrior trouble when in a group. Something about the Silver Bokoblin in particular caused the hairs on Link’s neck to stand up. He knew that it would be trouble if he were to confront them, even if he wasn’t sure how he knew. Link decided to wait on the island until they had left before swimming back to shore. Unfortunately, they did not afford him that luxury.

The Silver Bokoblin began to sniff the air when it reached the spot where Link had left his spear, and the others did the same. It didn’t take long for one of them to pick up the sharpened branch and examine it. Link wasn’t sure if they knew what it was supposed to be, but they didn’t need to. The important thing was that it had Link’s scent on it, and Bokoblins were well-known for their tracking abilities. Fortunately, his swim would mean that they probably wouldn’t be able to track him and their comparatively poor sense of vision meant that they were unlikely no notice him from that distance. But Link wasn’t worried about that. Even if they did spot him, Bokoblins were notoriously poor swimmers who wouldn’t be able to reach him. If he needed to, he could just swim to the opposite shore and run off before they had a chance to go around the lake.

No, the problem would be if they tried tracking his scent in the other direction. The trail would take them straight to the old man who had helped him out earlier. In fact, they seemed to have already been headed that way, meaning that they would likely end up finding the old man anyway. Link may not have known anything about self-described ‘old fool’ but it seemed unlikely that he would have been able to defend himself against this many Bokoblins at once. Link needed to find a way to stop them, but trying to approach them under the current conditions would be suicide and he had no way of attacking them from a distance.

Settling on a plan, Link picked up a small, smooth stone and tossed it. The pebble skipped across the surface of the lake until it slammed into the shin of one of the Blue Bokoblins. He then pulled the rusty old sword out of the ground and began banging it against a boulder while shouting at the pack of monsters.

His ploy worked, drawing the Bokoblins attention to himself. The angry monsters began shrieking at him and tried throwing rocks, but weren’t able to throw them far enough to his him. Link let out a sigh of relief before noticing the Silver Bokoblin pull out a bow. This had not been in his plan and Link quickly ran to the other end of the small island and dove into the water, swimming as fast as he could manage. Fortunately, he was able to get away from the Bokoblins and he could only hope that his plan had worked and that the monsters would continue trying to find a way to go after him instead of stumbling upon the old man.

Link he was safely ashore, Link began walking in the general direction of the Temple of Light again. Only three steps in, however, he froze as the sound of a horn being blown came from the direction of the Bokoblins. They were calling reinforcements, which likely meant that any other monsters in the area would likely be on his tail any moment now. Preparing for what was likely about to happen, Link took a deep breath and broke into a sprint. Sure enough, it was not long before he found himself being pursued. Fortunately, he seemed to only be attracting Bokoblins for the time being. Unfortunately, there were still far more of them than we would be able to fight off unarmed, and it would not be long before his legs would fail him at this rate.

He ran as far as he could, but eventually, Link had to stop and face his hunters. Exhausted and with nothing to fight with but his bare fists, Link turned and stood his ground as a horde of Bokoblins caught up to him.

There were even more than before, including three Silver Bokoblins in their number. They were not what worried Link the most, however. That honor went to the golden Bokoblin now leading the horde, which almost seemed to radiate an aura of power. Link knew that was outmatched but he stood firm as the Gold Bokoblin squealed a command of some sort. Immediately, around a dozen Bokoblins of various colors all charged Link at once. He may have been prepared to take a hit but this much force at once proved to be far more than the young man could manage and he was sent hurtling back from the blow. Link slammed hard into the grass and tumbled down a steep incline until finally coming to a stop a fair way away from where the Bokoblins were still standing.

Link let out a groan of pain as he mustered up the strength to get back up. He did not know what compelled him to keep fighting but he was not going to lie down and give up. He slowly rose back to his feet and resumed his fighting stance, staring his enemies down with a determined glare that even the strongest opponents give pause. Rather than charge again, however, the Bokoblins stayed back where they were, seeming almost apprehensive as they stared back down at him. Link knew there was something wrong, as no matter how fierce he may have looked, the Bokoblins knew they had nothing to fear as long as they outnumbered him.

He figured out what was causing the Bokoblins were worried about when he heard a mighty roar sound from directly behind him. Link turned around slowly and to confirm his worse fears. A proverbial mountain of muscle towered before him. Standing on four hooved feet, with an utterly massive sword and shield in its hands, the horned beast stared Link down with its blood-red eyes. As if the situation didn’t seem hopeless enough already, Link was now face-to-face with a particularly angry-looking White-Maned Lynel.

Most of the Bokoblins ran away in fright the moment the Lynel took its first step. The hulking monstrosity began slowly circling Link as if challenging them. Fortunately for Link, the remaining Bokoblins chose to act before the Lynel, charging at them both. This diverted the Lynel’s attention just long enough for Link to run past and jump onto its back. The ferocious beast began to buck wildly while slashing its sword at the Bokoblins foolish enough to attack it, but Link held firm. When that didn’t work, the Lynel galloped off, still trying to throw Link off of its back. Link held firm, glad that the monster didn’t just try pulling him off.

Eventually, Link’s grip failed him, however, and he was thrown onto the ground. He managed to pick himself up quickly and surveyed his surroundings while the Lynel settled down. They seemed to have traveled a fair distance, as Link could no longer recognize his surroundings. They had left the forest and were now standing just outside of ancient stone ruins. As the Lynel roared again and readied its sword, Link dashed under an archway into the ruins.

Link glanced around. Whatever had once stood here must not have been a building, as there was no ceiling or floor, only walls set up around multiple courtyards. The most distinctive feature was the strange statues scattered about the area. Link couldn’t recognize their design, but something about them made him unsettled. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be anything around for Link to defend himself against, so he rushed unto another courtyard. With luck, he would be able to outmaneuver the Lynel and through it off his tail.

After running around the ruins for a while, ducking between the odd statues scattered about the place seemingly at random, Link realized that the Lynel hadn’t followed him at all. Climbing one of the walls, Link could even see the creature running back into the woods.

That was not a good sign and Link quickly discovered the reason for the Lynel’s retreat as a light suddenly shown in his eye. Link stumbled and fell off the wall, just as a bolt of blue and white energy shot past where he had been standing. Link’s attempt to get away from one monster trying to kill him apparently must have led him straight to another. Worse still, he had no idea what was after him now.

It didn’t take long for him to find out, however, as the statues surrounding him began to light up and move. Each statue had a single eye-like feature, and each ‘eye’ was now directed at him. Link found himself covered in red lights like the one that had just caused him to fall off the wall a moment ago, and thanks to that experience Link now knew what they meant.

Link made a mad dash to an archway leading to the next courtyard. Just as he stepped through it, however, the statues fired at him. He just barely managed to avoid being directly hit but the resultant explosion directly behind him violently threw Link into the air like a ragdoll. Link landed hard on the fortunately soft ground. He didn’t have time to rest, however, as he was not directly in direct line of sight of several more of the hostile statues. Link rolled back to his feet and began running again, ducking behind a wall before he could be hit by another attack.

Now that he was out of sight, the statues seemed to halt their attack, at least for the time being. Link let out a sigh of relief and slumped to the ground. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Link stood back up and looked around for a way out of there. That was easier said than done, however, as he realized that he was reached the edge.

He had heard the old man call this place the Great Plateau. However, it wasn’t until now that it occurred to him what that meant. A plateau, as he now realized, was an area of flatland that was elevated above the surrounding area. In this case, the whole area seemed to be surrounded by a dead drop off no one would have been able to survive a fall off of.

Spoiler: Notes

If you're at all familiar with Breath of the Wild's plot, then you probably know that this starts out at the same point the game does, but really starts to go off the rails by the end of what I have written so far. And things will only proceed to straw further from there. Link managed to survive his fall, barely, and his shattered body is going to be found by a pair of Hylians (minor NPC siblings Mina and Mils, who manage to restore him back to moderate health with the aide of a fairy, which is where the next seen will pick up. Link ends up staying with the brother/sister team while he continues to recover, learning the ropes of treasure hunting in the ruins of Hyrule. That would be about where chapter 1 will actually end, with Chapter 2 picking up after a timeskip.
Months (possibly years) later, Link is now living comfortably as a treasure hunter, even having purchased a house in Hatenno Village (the same one you can buy in-game), but has no idea of who he is or what he's supposed to be doing. He is, however, planning trip to Hyrule Castle to plunder the hidden treasures within, and the chapter would be primarily devoted to Link's journey to loot the castle. While exploring the ruins, he ends up wandering to Zelda's old room where he finds her diary. Skimming through the pages, Link feels a melancholy sense of familiarity. It's not enough to restore any memories but he does take the book and any other records he can find to investigate later. After taking a decent amount of loot, Link eventually returns home. He heads out again the next day, searching the various ruins of Hyrule Field, when he suddenly feels something calling out to him. He follows the call and eventually digs up and old mask that seems to be beckoning him to put it on, which he does. The chapter then ends with Link desperately struggling to fight the mask's power as it tries to take over his mind, until he eventually passes out.
Chapter 3 is opens with Link waking up again, but things aren't quite right. The mask, unable to fully take over his body as long as he was able to fight back, dumped his consciousness into the nearest available vessel, a Chuchu. Now stuck in the body of a defenseless slime monster, Link slowly hops his way across the open fields of Hyrule until he finally makes it back to Hatenno Village. Unfortunately, the villagers are unable to recognize him and Link is chased out of town almost as soon as he arrives, hiding out on an old pathway where he hears a mysterious voice calling out to him. The voice proves to be coming from the old demonic statue sitting along the path, which tries to make a deal to restore Link to his proper form in exchange to a large sum of rupees. Link doesn't have any rupees to offer the statue, however, so it instead tells Link to venture north, where he will find someone who may be able to help him at a skull-shaped lake.
Meanwhile, the Lizalfos living in Gerudo Desert gather under the banner of a mysterious masked individual who rallies them into an army to overtake Gerudo Town. Striking from all sides in the dead of night, they are able to conquer the town and enslave the former inhabitants, creating the capital of what will become a new monster kingdom with the intent to spread throughout all of Hyrule.
And... that's about what I have planned so far. I have a few ideas of where of where I would want to take the story after that, but most of it has been undecided. Plus, I don't want to give everything away in case I do end up actually writing this story. So, I'll just end by saying that these events will eventually culminate in a massive battle between three major factions that will shape the future of Hyrule for better or worse, and that nothing will be the same.