As Marianne remembered, the landscape seemed to be the same as always along that road that linked Goibniu with Scáthach, except for the soldiers and troops hanging around and preventing the streets from being devastated by bandits and savages. And it is that back then, things on the continent of Fódlan would not be the same for a long time after the fall of Garreg Mach at the hands of the imperial forces under the rule of his new empress.
Marianne von Edmund is the adoptive daughter of the Marquess of Edmund. This nobleman lives in and administers the northernmost territories of the Leicester Alliance coast, a league made up of different nobles who administer their domains and resist living under the control of some empire or kingdom.
She participated for a year at the Academy within the class of the Golden Deer. This was until the Empire occupied Garreg Mach, aiming to overthrow the Church and ending the system in which the nobility was at the pinnacle of society on the continent.
Marianne was a relatively private woman. She was trying to avoid contact with other people, due to his father's request, so as not to spread his actual origin for any reason and Crest that he possessed: Maurice's Crest, which has long been associated with a terrible beast that brings misfortune to the people she approaches.
Her appearance was that of a girl with pale skin, beautiful but expressionless brown eyes, light blue hair, and a graceful and attractive figure. She was wearing a light and dark blue dress, a beautiful combination of her hair and skin color.
"I never expected this from Edelgard. I hope the Goddess takes pity on her," Marianne thought as she continued to see the landscape inside the carriage that would take her to her adoptive father's lands.
Once there, they should discuss issues about interrupting their studies due to the political crisis and analyze options to make future "agreements." Nuptial agreements, with a clear purpose of politics and convenient influence for his adoptive father, who sought to climb his social scale and power in the Alliance.
Marianne continued to look at the landscape, resigned. There wasn't much to do about his destination; If someone accepted her for who she was and with her "condition" present, she didn't care, even though her father strictly prohibited her from talking about it.
So, everything was going relatively quiet on the way home. At a certain point, the carriage stopped. Some soldiers stopped the coachman. Marianne listened as they talked.
"Mister, we need to control where the carriage is coming from, its occupants, and where they are going. You'll understand that this is just a routine check," said the soldier in charge of the crew.
Marianne couldn't hear anything else, but she found that the time for a "routine check" was taking longer than necessary. After a while, she heard a noise and the neighing of one of the horses. She decided, stealthily, to look outside. The fright that he took was terrible. Both the coachman and the horses were being slaughtered.
Marianne exited the carriage as quickly as possible to help everyone. At that moment, one of the alleged soldiers hit him on the head. Suddenly, Marianne awoke in a clearing in the woods set back from the road, surrounded by ten to fifteen guys who had just rounded up what they could from that carriage.
"You looked like a noblewoman through and through, but you brought nothing but misery, bitch," one of the bandits told her. "Although we may be able to use the dresses you brought with you."
The thieves looked at each other and began to discuss what they would do with the girl. Marianne, meanwhile, had disassociated herself from so much horror at the scene. Because of this, she couldn't hear what they would do with her by turns.
"Please don't hurt me!" cried Marianne, tears in her eyes.
"Shut up, bitch!" said one of the bandits.
"She is quite a treasure. We should be satisfied with it. What do you think?" commented the one who was possibly the leader of this band.
They all seemed to agree. Immediately afterward, one who seemed more robust approached Marianne and slit the upper part of her dress despite her resistance. She covered herself as best she could, looking in horror at her victimizers, unable to articulate more than a slight shriek.
"I don't want everything to end like this... Goddess, help me," was the only thing she could think of, desperate. A thought popped into his head. "If someone does something to you...I'll give them a single punch." She didn't remember where she had heard that. It came from someone sworn to protect her but whom she remembered well. Now she couldn't, rather.
While the bandits were admiring the young woman for a second, a rather rude guy appeared, covered by a hood. The bandits did not notice his presence until he got close enough to say:
"Ahem... I don't want to interrupt your 'business,' but I'd like to know if you know how to get to..." He didn't finish speaking before being interrupted.
"Shut the fuck up!" the gang leader yelled in anger. "Can't you see we're busy? Someone gives him a beating that he will never forget this beggar."
Immediately, the burly guy from the band approached the newcomer guy. The subject was tall, his face dark with scars from sunstroke and dirt. He reached out his arm to the beggar and took him by the neck with all his strength, saying:
"Your turn to die, you piece of shit."
"Could you at least listen, please?" the guy said, choking.
The bandit fell silent and looked at the subject with a smiling and deranged grimace while he lifted him by the neck. The rest of the bandits had more difficulties than it initially seemed to take charge of a supposedly "defenseless young woman."
The band leader turned to look at what had happened to that wretch who appeared out of nowhere. To his surprise, or somewhat dismay, all he saw was the big bandit torn in two, slashed across his chest. There was no sign of the beggar, but it was common sense to know he was dangerous.
Little by little, the bandits followed their boss's gaze to see what had happened. It was not difficult to imagine the outcry at this fact. Everyone neglected Marianne while they searched for the culprit of said atrocity.
One of the bandits ventured a little further to search. Suddenly, he saw a glow from the depth of the forest. Said glow seemed familiar to some stories. He had a hard time coming up with the exact name.
"This reminds me, Catherine... My God, that's the Thunder...!"
The poor guy couldn't finish his statement since his head had suddenly stopped being in place. One by one, the bandits began to be instantly cut down by that terrible sword wielded by that warrior belonging to the Knights of Seiros.
Marianne, who was getting up after the insult received, caught a glimpse of that battle. Difficult to define that massacre as a battle, anyway. The warrior approached Marianne silently. Instantly, the girl panicked, expecting the worst.
After everything she had lived through, she could no longer scream or try to escape. Simply everything that came would be the Goddess's design. Despite this, she was surprised to see a calm expression on the face of the subject who had removed his hood. Suddenly, the bandit leader appeared behind Marianne, holding a dagger to her neck.
"If you dare come any closer, I'll slit this harlot's throat!"
The subject didn't even flinch at what the bandit said. Instead, before the wrongdoer could even look, he extended his arm. After that quick movement, only a spear was noticed digging squarely into the miserable thief's skull. Marianne didn't even react to this in time until she saw that weapon going through the head of the bandit lying behind her.
"This is... the Spear of Ruin?" the young woman thought, examining the scene after bending down. After that, she noticed the stranger near him, face to face. He knelt to reach Marianne's field of vision and said:
"Marianne, I did not expect to meet you in these circumstances."
"Who are you... Please don't hurt me," Marianne said in a choked voice.
"I understand. It's hard for you to recognize me with this look. After all, we haven't seen each other in ages," the guy said with a calm look on his face. "Do you remember that I once told you I would give a single punch to the person who hurt you? Well, I think I did."
With those words, everything was cleared up. She had exactly that thought, just like a wish came true. "It's you... Thank you, Goddess, for this reunion," she thought before speaking.
"Leonard... is that you?"
"That's right," replied that young man with a calm voice. "Fortunate I am to be able to find you and to be able to save you in these circumstances, strange as it sounds."
"Yeah. I wish I hadn't experienced this. The Goddess's designs are... Strange."
Once Marianne got up, Leonard noticed the girl's condition after the bandits' attack. To avoid exposing her to anyone's sight—although there was no one else in that forest anymore—Leonard removed the hooded blanket he was wearing and put it on. Realizing how exposed she was, Marianne quickly covered herself, her face flushing red, not unlike Leonard's.
"Thank you, Leonard —Marianne murmured, embarrassed."
"Excuse me, Marianne; oh really."
Marianne took a closer look at her old friend. They hadn't seen each other in about five years, so it wasn't unusual for him to be changed, with a beard and whatnot. What caught her most was that Leonard seemed much beefier than she could have imagined when he was older. Back then, the boy appeared to be a bunch of thin rods, and he used to maintain a stooped and frail posture. In the same way, his dark brown eyes, his mischievous expression, his ear-to-ear smile, and his noticeable freckles had been measured.
Now he looked like a man of about five feet three inches, boxy arms long but toned, just like his torso. His unruly hair was constantly mistreated, and the beard that covered his face prevented seeing his chin and jaw angle.
Furthermore, scars and wounds abounded on his arms, indicating that he had undergone many battles and arduous training. The girl was surprised to see a small tattoo with a figure she did not recognize on her left forearm, while Marianne already knew there was a burn on her right forearm.
What mattered most to him, however, was that the right flank of his abdomen was scorched, probably from some fire magic or electricity, Marianne guessed.
"That wound is recent... Will you let me heal you?" Marianne asked timidly, moving closer to Leonard.
"Thank you so much; It hurts a lot, now that I think about it," his friend answered, realizing that the spell cast by the Death Knight was much more powerful than he imagined.
Marianne cast a healing spell on the affected area. She did not count, however, that the wound was already becoming infected. There was no other choice but to use other resources.
"How many days have you been like this?... This wound got infected" Marianne commented, worried.
"Three days, tops," Leonard said, brushing it off. "The truth is that I spent a long time in the water..."
"Why?... What happened to you?" The young woman inquired, very concerned.
"It would be better if you didn't know; nothing good will happen to you finding out such things," he replied, trying to protect Marianne herself. "Once you're done, I'll take you somewhere and make sure you can get to your father."
"I grew up too," Marianne replied, moving closer than she should to her friend, her face flushed but serious. "I have lived in many battles against terrible enemies."
"Ha! I can believe you by how you look at me."
"Yes... There were monsters, guys who changed their skin color, and even the Death Knight himself," Marianne answered with an emotion she didn't usually show, at least not with people from the Academy.
"I see..." Leonard replied, avoiding his face a little."
Marianne, who might seem dim-witted, immediately noticed a strange reaction from her friend of several years. Seeking to guess among the possibilities of enemies that she raised, she asked him:
"Could it be that you fought against the Death Knight?"
Leonard lowered his gaze and slightly contracted his mouth. She immediately sensed the answer. He remembered that his friend used to make that face while looking away when he avoided saying something, especially if he was overexposed or blamed for something he hadn't done.
"Well, we said we wouldn't have secrets, right?" Leonard said as he fell to the ground, passed out.