公和我在厨房里添

Andraste remained silent, uncaring for the young man's words as he watched his own blood trickle down onto the neat stone below.

"Don't shield your eyes from your own past."

"--!"

–It was as those words came out, that the knight's mind was captured by something; an awakening force that conjured memories buried deep within–forcing him to witness them all at once, simultaneously, yet meticulously and in-depth, as if experiencing them for the very first time.

"What…is this?!" He stammered out.

As if a key switched a lock, so tightly sealed, within his heart; the past which felt distant from himself, once more became precious.

"That is the past you abandoned, Andraste."

For the first time he remembered, a tear left from his eye–it was a foreign feeling, so forgotten that he couldn't aptly figure out what the sensation was; nor could he decipher the pain in his heart.

"...Gisela…" He muttered out, "No…what is this?! I abandoned these memories! Don't force them back, Ren Nakamura—!"

"Sorry, but I know that pain in your eyes a little too well," he smiled warmly, "Maybe it's naive of me…but, just this once, I want to try resolving things a bit differently. I'm sick of tired of the ways of this world: the bloodshed, hatred–all of it. Having strength means nothing if I can't live in the world I want. I won't be bound by that cycle; not if I can help it. You may be a wicked pain in my ass, but…Andraste, you can be saved, too."

The knight fell silent as he looked up at the kind eyes that watched him; for some reason, in that moment, he couldn't find it in him to further reject his helping hand.

"Do I even have a choice…?!" Andraste huffed.

"Not a chance in hell," he smiled in response, "you're going to drop that "cheesy villain" act, whether you like it or not!"

Again, Andraste discovered another peculiarity as he sat there on his knees, looking forward with his groggy, discombobulated vision.

–He smiled.

It wasn't a smile born of wicked hedonism, or of joy in something depraved, but for some reason, he couldn't help but laugh, just a bit, at the words of the man he once swore to kill.

He knew why: the memories he locked within his heart had flourished.

As he looked up, the astral weapons wielded by the overseers of the golden world were raised–preparing his final judgment.

Gisela, Markus…Today, I lost.

Once the weapons of the enlightened spirits were cast down upon him–it all went black.

"Grhh…"

Andraste slowly parted his eyelids, finding his eyes looking up to the abyssal skies of Purgatory he was used to, with his back pressed against the soft, yet firm soil as rain pattered down against his bare skin.

The knight turned his head to the side slowly, wincing as his neck was as stiff as steel, seeing the snowy-haired young man, sitting beside him with the blood that dyed his skin being rinsed by the passing rain.

"Ren Nakamura."

"Yeah?"

"Did I lose?"

"Yeah. I kicked your butt."

They both shared a wry chuckle as the young adolescent bashfully rubbed his finger against his lip, before suddenly–he collapsed onto the soil beside the knight.

"..." Andraste slowly sat himself up.

The pale-haired knight looked at the slumbering young man, who was in far worse condition than himself, snoring as if though his body wasn't on the brink of death.

"Falling asleep beside an enemy is a cardinal sin of the battlefield, Ren Nakamura. You're a fool," Andraste spoke quietly, "but…a fool that defeated one of the Victorious Seven."

The man lifted one of his fractured hands, popping his wrists back into place, though they were still swollen and fractured, the pain meant little to him as he stood himself up.

He looked at the star-shaped insignia on his hand; before his eyes, it faded away as if never existing on the back of his right hand.

"I suppose I no longer have any connection to Mastorn…" Andraste muttered, looking down at the slumbering adolescent.

As he stared for a moment longer, he hoisted him up, carrying him in his arms, though he didn't seem pleased to do as much.

I suppose this is the least I can do. I intended to kill him, yet he intended to save me–though foolish, his strength ultimately made his decision the correct one.

It feels…odd: I am the same person, but at the same time…not. All of that bloodlust dissipated. I don't know how, but somehow his ability seemed to purify that concoction from Doctor Vira.

…He did all of that, while sacrificing years off of his life.

You're a fool, Ren Nakamura: a fool I owe my life to, Andraste thought.

[One Day Later…]

"Mm…Ngh…"

Shuffling about on the mattress, he finally regained consciousness as parting his eyelids felt like a herculean challenge, in itself.

His groggy, swaying vision was met with oddly familiar, leaf-laden walls, though he couldn't quite figure out what was going on.

"Where…?"

As he sat himself, his body felt like the weight of a mountain, as well as being accompanied by a wave of pain throughout every inch of his body.

"Ow, ow, ow…" He winced.

Looking down, he found himself wrapped in an array of bandages; the sight immediately reminded him of sorry memories as he frowned a bit.

"I guess I went a bit crazy, didn't I…?" He muttered.

"That you did."

–The sudden, unnoticed voice caused him to jump, wincing again as the quick movement caused his body to reel in pain again.

Standing in the doorway to the room, the familiar, elder macaque greeted him with a small, warm smile.

"Elder Rohan," he called his name, "...what happened? Is the siege still…?"

He received an immediate answer by a soft shake of the elder's head as the small macaque entered the naturally-built room, seating himself on a plump cushion.

"You took care of the bulk of the Stormfallen forces, and–it seems an outsider lent a helping hand as well," Rohan informed him.

"An outsider…? Do you mean?"

Rohan nodded, "It was the same man who brought you here. He was a stubborn individual, I'll say. He was in almost as bad shape as you, but he refused to accept any help. Youngins, these days."

He couldn't help but smile to himself as he realized what had transpired in his lack of consciousness, looking down at his bandage-wrapped hands.

I was right about you, Andraste. Finally…I was right about something, he thought.

"So he's not here?" He asked.

"I'm afraid not," Rohan answered as he shook his head, "He insisted on going on his way."

He watched as the black-furred elder of the primate village lit a match of fragrant incense, using it to keep the hanging lantern illuminated.

"How long was I out for, anyway?"

"Three days."

–The answer hit him like a wall of bricks as his eyes widened; it was enough to force him to push past the pain and fatigue ingrained in his body as he crawled out of the bamboo-made bed, attaching his sheath to his belt.

"Now, hold on! What's the rush for, Ren? You need to rest!"

"Elder Rohan!" He smiled, grabbing the macaque's shoulders, "I made it! My time in Purgatory is up!"

Rohan fell still as well, processing his words before a smile came over his shocked expression, soon turning into joy.

"That's fantastic, Ren!" Rohan congratulated him.

Just as they celebrated, many footsteps were heard within the home;  burrowing through the entryway, the other elders, alongside some of the village children arrived–and persisting at the back of the group, Regibald watched silently with a small smile.

"Did I hear that right? You've completed your time in Purgatory?!" Goroba asked.  "Exceptional," Yon added.

After being bombarded by questions, congratulated with an assortment of bread and tea–that he happily accepted, and being hoarded by the playful children–he found his respite.

He found out from the whispers of Rohan that the eccentric Doctor Kuregura worked a miracle to bring him to his best possible shape.

Filling his belly with pastries and warm beverages, he soon found his time was up.

Vrrrrrr.

–It was heard directly beyond the window of the tree-stationed cottage, the arrival of something he innately recognized.

"I think that's my ride," he said with a smile, setting down the child gorilla he held.

Peering outside of the window, he saw the disembodied, colossal hand waiting for him with its palm flattened.

He threw his sable coat on, making sure both his longsword and dagger were sheathed to his belt as he crawled through the window, holding on just a bit as he looked back once more.

"Thanks for everything!" He smiled brightly.

"No, Ren, thank you!" Rohan waved.

They all waved in departure as he leapt onto the gray-skinned, giant hand, letting out a sharp breath as his bruised body didn't like the sensation of landing.