Broken Hero

She’s late. Rionara thought as she was still watching the front of the inn as the last customer left through the hall’s doorway to the dark blue hue of the night outside.

“Rio, you might want to get some sleep.” A gentle young female voice came from beside her. Lucina was standing at her side before placing a cup of warm milk on the table in front of her. “Sometimes they need to rest inside the dungeon on their way back.”

“I know but…”

“I’m sure you’ll see her again tomorrow morning when the doors are open.”

“...” Rionara looked down. “Today was… we were supposed to go out today…”

“I know, but Radiance comes every week, right? You’ll just need to be a little bit more patient.”

The high elf felt a tinge of worry in her heart, but instead of asking more questions, she grabbed the drink left on the table and gulped it down.

“I’ll go to sleep so I can wake up early tomorrow. Good night, Miss Lucina.”

“Good night, Rio.”

She watched her go upstairs with a smile that gradually faded away. She reached inside her jacket and pulled out a silver pocketwatch. After a brief glance, she pocketed it and sighed. Her hands interlocked in front of her face as she touched her forehead against her knuckles.

“Please Goddess, keep them safe.”

Inside the rented room, Rionara tossed herself on the bed with her arms stretched out. After a slow and deep breath she raised her right arm to the ceiling. The bracelet she bought for both Priscilla and herself hung from her wrist as she smiled quietly.

The same pair dangled from Priscilla’s battered body as she was gasping for air. There was a streak of blood coming down from her forehead that covered her left eye. The slick and warm liquid forced her to fight with only one eye open.

Reinhardt had been knocked out by the bull-man and its battle partner was harassing Priscilla each time she decided to use magic.

“Dammit... it’s even… mimicking her tactics now…!”

The simulacrum was no one other than her Queen. The staff, the poise, even her mannerisms when casting spells—it was an exact reflection of Leona.

The bull-man approached with a large overhead swing. Normally it would be easy to simply dodge and counter it, but Priscilla’s sluggish movements were hindering her ability to drive her rapier deep enough to deal any meaningful wounds against it. Instead she had to rely on actively avoiding being too close to avoid being turned into a bloody pulp.

In its downward arc, Priscilla hopped backwards and avoided the axe’s blade as it struck the crystal floor, sending shards and debris everywhere.

She watched as the bull-man struggled to pull its weapon out of the ground. All she saw was a mindless beast, something that could easily be taken care of. But that wasn’t the problem, the real opponent lay behind it—the smiling simulacrum.

The terror in her was genuine because she didn’t know what to expect from it. Unlike Leonard and Phoebe, her Queen was far less direct in how she would deliver punishment. Slow, steady pressure or a sudden, violent approach, Leona was capable of either. But the simulacrum didn’t choose, it didn’t seem like it wanted to.

“Ha… ha…” She readied her rapier. “I can’t let this go on for much longer…”

Her strength was waning and it would only take one misstep for her to die given how strong the bull-man’s swings were. Her eyes locked on the simulacrum.

Unlike the other two, it was the spitting image of Leona. Her calm, serious expression, the slight frown whenever she was casting a spell, the way she lifted her staff. There was no mistaking it—that dungeon had created a monster far more formidable than anything she had seen thus far.

And it was her duty to kill it.

Priscilla broke into a sprint towards the bull-man and just as she predicted, it started to lift its axe. As it came down, she didn’t slow down—instead she urged her legs to push her through the attack—barely making it under the beast’s legs and into the enemy’s backline.

“Ice Wall!”

With a flick of its staff, the simulacrum created another wall of ice directly in front of itself. Priscilla grit her teeth as her mana surged towards her left arm in a last ditch-effort.

“Fireball!”

She threw her body against the wall as the spell detonated in her left hand. The massive heat coursed through her enchanted jacket and cooked her entire left arm, leaving only charred flesh. The explosion was powerful enough to punch a hole through the wall.

The simulacrum was within her reach. One more step and she could strike it with her rapier. She ducked with her left foot sideways and sprang forth in a deep thrust aimed at its clavicle.

Her blade met flesh, but not from the one she aimed at. The bull-man had left its axe behind and used its left arm to protect the simulacrum. Priscilla had tunneled so much into her target that she had completely disregarded the other foe.

“Shi-!”

By then, the simulacrum raised its staff.

“Blast.”

It was over in an instant. The still air around her suddenly snapped back full force—sending her through the ice wall and throwing her several meters on the floor.

“Aaa…”

Her mind was telling her to get up. She was trying to muster every ounce of strength she had, but to no avail. Quiet footsteps approached as Priscilla groaned in pain on the ground.

Both it and the bull-man stood just above the royal knight. The simulacrum smiled as it looked towards its bodyguard.

The towering monstrosity removed the rapier from its arm before snapping its blade in half and tossing it on top of Priscilla as if it were garbage. Without so much as a word, the two of them turned their backs on her and started to leave into the darkness.

“No… you…”

She raised her trembling right arm towards it. She couldn’t let a monster wear the face of her Queen. She couldn’t fail that duty—even if her father was dead, she could at least protect her Queen’s dignity by slaying that mockery. But she couldn’t. Her body was no longer listening to her.

“I… I won’t… I won’t let it end like this…!”

Tears were starting to form in the corner of her eyes as she grabbed the hilt of her rapier and struck it against the ground to try and push herself towards the vanishing simulacrum.

“Don’t wear that face as if it’s yours! Your damned abomination!” The broken blade slipped against the crystal floor—she didn’t even have the strength to pin it against the ground. “Come back here and fight! Damn you!”

Her screams remained unanswered as the crystal floor became quiet. The empty void in the horizon marked her first defeat at the hands of an enemy. One that mocked her reason for being a knight.

“Damn you…”

Tears blurred her vision as she raised her sword one last time before passing out.

Seconds, minutes, hours, it wasn’t clear to her what happened, but she could feel something tug her sleeve. As Priscilla turned to see who was doing that, she noticed a beautiful blonde woman shake her finger towards her with a stern expression.

“Priscilla.” The woman said. “How many times do I have to tell you, don’t use magic at close range.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

The woman sighed.

“I told you before, just call me Leona when it’s just us. You don’t need formalities with me since you’re the one doing me a favor.”

“Perish the thought, Your- I mean, Leona.” Priscilla averted her gaze as she scratched the side of her head. “I… simply don’t want to burden you.”

“That again. Priscilla, I told you before. The reason why you received the title of Royal Knight wasn't just for show. You are an important member of my closest aides as such you must learn how to act like one.”

“Does that include me using magic in close range?”

“Yes.” She replied with a stern voice and furrowed eyebrows. “I don’t want any of my knights doing reckless things to claim victory. Sacrificing oneself for a cause isn’t winning, it’s martyrdom.”

Priscilla snapped awake again. Her heart was beating fast. She didn’t have her feet on the ground, but she was moving. She could see Rionara’s bracelet dangling from the cord she fashioned as a necklace.

“Are you awake…?” A male voice rang behind her. “If so, can you walk?”

“R-Reinhardt? Why… why are you carrying me…?”

“I managed to get ourselves out of that hell.”

He slowly lowered her on the floor. She almost fell the moment her feet hit the ground—her legs felt too weak. She caught herself against the bright wall of the castle floor they had been previously.

Looking at him, she noticed he was still carrying the rucksack and Elaine’s corpse on his other arm. Priscilla looked at it and then back to him before eventually lowering her eyes.

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologize. It was my decision to come down here with you.”

He carefully settled Elaine’s body down before also removing the rucksack from his back. He threw his tired body on the opposite wall from Priscilla and let go of his longsword. It clattered against the floor as he reached for the visor of his helmet. He was out of breath.

Priscilla was also not faring much better, she couldn’t feel her left arm but it was most likely gone forever. Her muscles felt stiff and she could barely move her fingers.

“How… how did you manage to come all the way up here while carrying us?”

Priscilla asked while trying to focus her blurry vision on him. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“I didn’t find a single monster on our way here.”

He wasn’t lying but the way he spoke felt like he wanted to find monsters. He also wanted to end it all.

Priscilla struggled to breathe, her entire body was in pain, and there was a lingering sensation of dread taking a hold of her that she couldn’t explain why.

It took them many hours, but eventually they made their way up the dungeon and outside. It was a bright sunny morning, but the sunlight felt painful on their skin.

“Hey, long time no see.”

One of the guards raised his hand to greet Reinhardt but the knight passed by him and fell straight on the ground—unconscious.

“There’s another one as well.”

The other guard said as he saw Priscilla’s silhouette on the staircase. She managed to step out of the dungeon, but the moment she did—she fell on her knees. The grueling pain was too much, her body wanted it to stop.

“Oi! Lass, you okay?”

She didn’t respond, rather, she couldn’t even hear him. His mouth moved but her ears were ringing. Her eyes darted towards movement she noticed from the corner of her vision. Someone was running at her.

‘Rionara…’

She smiled while tears started to fall across her face.