Chapter Text
“So what does it do?” Claude asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the artifact. The little coin-sized gem shimmered a pretty gold color inside its velvet box. Hilda figured the motive for stealing something so shiny was obvious, but Leader-Man himself was convinced there had to be another reason.
“Do not touch that!” Lorenz snapped, swatting Claude’s hand away. “Can you not control yourself for a single minute?”
Claude raised an eyebrow. “Come on. We’re all stuck on this side of the river bank until Teach gets back or the flood dies down. Either one of those should take a week at least. Aren’t the rest of you curious about this mysterious artifact? It’s got to be important for its owner to go through the church to get it back instead of just hiring mercenaries.”
“Claude, it’s shiny. And gold. Do you know what people do with shiny and gold things?” Hilda poked the golden cap on his braid for emphasis. “They want them. It doesn’t have to ‘do’ anything for it to be valuable!” She had no idea how she was going to survive a week in the wilderness, let alone a week under Claude’s leadership! He was a good guy and also her friend, she’d be fine tolerating him for… three days. Maybe four! But by the end of a week, he was probably going to be stir crazy. The only people Claude could direct that impending stir craziness was her and the other Golden Deer. Hopefully no one strangled him (or Lorenz) by the end of the week. That would be way too much work to explain to the professor.
“Booring,” Claude said, quietly booing her. “Lysithea, this is totally magical, right? It totally is.”
“Obviously, idiot.”
“See! I’m right, it’s magic!”
She kinda wanted to hit him. “No one said it isn’t! It’s probably just enchanted to be sparkly. Besides, who cares? I wanna go home.” Stupid snow-melt, stupid flooded river, stupid destroyed bridge, stupid stupid stupid! She hated camping! This was going to be the worst week of her life, ugh! If they’d just stayed in Garreg Mach, everything was fine. But noooo, they just had to take this mission and get trapped behind a flood! The Professor had better get help from the monastery fast.
“Soon enough we’ll be back at the monastery and this little trinket will be out of our hands forever. We’ll never see this shiny, shiny object of mystery ever again. Doesn’t that just break your heart?”
“No Claude. No it does not.”
“Bah. Live a little!” Claude gestured to the rest of them. “Surely the rest of you are curious. We’ll do this the Roundtable way: who thinks I should be allowed to touch the shiny-shiny?”
Hilda sighed and pinched her brow. Honestly, the fact that Claude hadn’t snuck a poke at the artifact last night was a miracle. A miracle achieved through Ignatz, who caught the idiot in the act and stopped him. She wished she could go back a day to when her only worry was dealing with Claude’s reckless curiosity. The inn they stayed in yesterday had been so cozy! But no, they just had to get stuck between two swollen rivers. Ugh, she should’ve feigned a broken ankle and saved all of them the trouble…
“We don’t know what it does. Perhaps it will turn your skin inside out.”
“Lysithea is right,” Leonie agreed. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Since the church wants it back, um, it shouldn’t be in anyone’s hands. I’m sure there’s a good reason why we’re supposed to be careful…” Marianne whispered.
“Come on. That’s the oldest trick in the book! They’re just trying to make you think that. See, I’ll prove it.”
Claude touched the artifact. It was nice knowing him.
“Fool!” Lorenz shouted as it flashed.
The burst of light didn’t last long. She blinked rapidly, scrubbing at her eyes and shaking her head. Ow. As soon as the spots were out of her vision, she narrowed on the idiot in their midst. Claude had never looked so filled with regret as he did now. He cleared his throat. “So, uh.”
“Are you okay?” Raphael asked.
Claude rubbed the back of his neck. “Got a little shock, that’s all. But, uh… the artifact’s gone.”
She wasn’t the only one to look down at the empty box. “Where did it go?”
“Idiot!” Lysithea shouted, punching his side. “Just great! Now we have to find it again! I told you it was unpredictable! It could have warped itself literally anywhere!”
“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll admit this isn’t my finest moment. Er, by a long shot. But what’s done is done. We should start setting up camp before night falls.”
“Claude’s right about setting up camp,” Leonie said, glaring daggers at him. “You’re lucky that wasn’t worse. What if it exploded and hurt all of us? What if it hurt you, huh? You’re supposed to be smart.” Claude opened his mouth, but Leonie silenced him with a shake of her hand. “No, whatever. You’re right, we need to get camp going. Expect me to chew you out in the morning.”
“You will not be the only one,” Lorenz added.
“Yes, yes, and I’ll deserve it. Lysithea, Lorenz, can either of you… uh, I don’t know, track a warp?”
Lysithea sighed, pinching her nose. “Maybe. With such a tiny object, it’s going to take some time. And a lot of effort. I can’t believe you.”
“By a lot of time, how long…?” Hilda asked. Hopefully everyone could hunt down the artifact before the professor returned. They were supposed to be back with help from the monastery in a week (with mounts to fly back on).
“A day or two at least. It is a very complex spell!”
Great. Stupid Claude.
Hilda grumbled to herself. She hated night watch. Almost as much as she hated camping. At least her shift was finally over. Now she could wake Claude and get her beauty sleep. Leonie, on the other side of the camp, got up to wake the other half of the shift change.
Under the light of a nearly full moon, she picked her way from sleeping roll to sleeping roll. As soon as she poked Claude awake, she could go to bed. She double-backed through the line of her sleeping classmates after missing his bedroll. He was between Lorenz and Raphael, if she remembered right. She found Lorenz… and Raphael. Between them was Lysithea.
Weird… Lysithea was sleeping near Ignatz and Marianne. Who was in Claude’s bedroll, then? The smallish lump wasn’t Lysithea, but it was too small to be Claude.
“Oh, my, Goddess. I’m going to kill him,” she hissed under her breath. Really? The idiot really pulled the ‘replace yourself with pillows and sneak away’ trick?! She was going to murder him in the morning. Stomping over to his bed, she reached down to rip back the sleeping bag
Gleaming under the moonlight was a pair of large green eyes. She froze.
His bed roll wasn’t empty and there was no pillow in his place. She stared back at him, unable to see much past the illusion of the darkness. Claude looked weirdly… small. Actually, she wasn’t sure she was even looking at Claude, though those eyes seemed pretty green. If she didn’t know any better, she would say she was staring at a little boy.
A small noise she previously dismissed as background ambiance stuck out now: little sharp gasps. Judging by the quick heaving of the body in the bedroll, the boy was hyperventilating. That matched his wide eyes, stricken mouth, and the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, biting her lip and putting her hands out in front of her. The boy flinched. “Shh, shh, don’t cry. Claude, is that you? It’s me, Hilda. Remember me?” Her words had the opposite intended effect. The boy didn’t calm down in the slightest. His choking gasps were louder now, forming little hiccups as more tears followed. She slowly came closer, her arms spread in front of her. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure out what happened to you, please don’t cry.”
The boy opened his mouth and screamed. She flinched back, and in that moment the boy was darting out of the sleeping bag and fleeing towards the trees.
“Wait!” she called, hissing an unlady-like curse to herself as she took off after him. He was definitely way too small to be normal-Claude. Despite his shrunken size, he was fast. As she ducked into the forest, she’d already lost sight of him. All she could do was charge forward towards where she heard rustling. She refused to let Claude get himself lost in the dark woods!
Within a minute the rustling was gone. The only noise left was the sound of her panting, the ambient sounds of the forest, and the pounding of her heart. She lost Claude. She lost Claude.
“Claude!” She called out, panic catching in her throat. “Claude, come back! Where are you?!” Dear Goddess. He was lost in the forest all alone now. As a little child. Were there wolves in this forest? Bears? What if he got snagged in one of Leonie’s traps? Was that even Claude, though? Bah, it didn’t matter! Either Claude was suddenly a little boy and lost in the forest, or there was a little boy lost in the forest!
“Hilda!” Leonie called out. She turned to face Leonie and watched her classmate recoil. “Whoa, you’re pale as a ghost. What happened? Did that scream spook you? I’m pretty sure it was just a fox.”
She shook her head. “No. That was Claude. Leonie, you know how to track, right? That artifact, it turned him into a little kid!”
Leonie stared at her for a long moment. “You don’t need to make excuses to get out of night watch. Your shift is over now.”
“I’m serious! He ran into the woods, and there’s no way I’m wrong. He was a little kid, crying and everything!” She bit her lip. “He must be scared out of his mind right now. I don’t think he recognized me.”
She wasn’t sure Leonie was entirely convinced, but the hunter was convinced enough to look for mini-Claude tracks. While Leonie did that, Hilda returned to camp. Just great. Now it was her job to wake everyone up and explain that Claude was gone.
Half an hour later, Leonie returned with no sign of Claude’s trail. On top of night watch, they sent out another duo to search for Claude.
By dawn, they had nothing to show for their efforts. If it weren’t for Claude’s absence, she would think she dreamed it all up. She wished she had dreamed it all up.
One full day after Claude disappeared, Hilda drooped on night watch. It wasn’t her fault Claude was gone. She still felt guilty. And exhausted, because she didn’t get any sleep last night.
The sound of sniffling caught her attention. Glancing in Lysithea’s direction, she determined that the sound wasn’t coming from the young mage. No, it was coming from just outside the camp. Slowly she got to her feet. Tip-toeing towards the sound, it was right by where she chased after Claude yesterday, right on the edge of the clearing. Just a little to the left, and… down.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Claude was crying, she never would have noticed him. He was curled up, tucked into the mouth of a fox den. His head — the only part of him visible — was covered by a fallen branch of leaves. She didn’t dare get closer and alert him. The mouth of the fox den was decently big, large enough for little Claude to curl up on himself. And he was really little. Somewhere between four and six years old, if she had to guess. His eyes were squeezed shut, skinny arms wrapped around his stomach. A pathetic whimper fell from his lips as he tossed his head, tears dripping onto the dirt.
She gnawed on her hand. What to do? He was having a nightmare. Claude had to be scared out of his mind. If her hunch was correct, he didn’t remember any of them. If she woke him up, surely that would scare him even more. It was a miracle he wasn’t actually in the woods. The little hiding spot he found for himself — so close to camp — was perfect to keep him safe. She couldn’t afford chasing him deep into the forest. If he thought his hidey-hole was safe and hidden, then surely he wouldn’t stray from it? But if she spooked him out of the hole, he would know she knew where it was. And then he might not come back.
But Goddess, she just wanted to hug him. She couldn’t see through the moonlight exactly how young he was, but he was very young. And, Saints, he was probably hungry too. Maybe cold? He was wearing clothes that fit him, oddly enough. They were dirty and she couldn’t see his body well, but they didn’t match his academy outfit at all.
Hanging her head, she quietly left him alone and returned back to her post. She informed her shift-partner — Leonie again — who reluctantly agreed with her reasoning. They sat together and listened to Claude’s quiet cries. When her shift was over, they informed the next shift too. Laying down, she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t like Claude was loud, it was just a sound that she couldn’t unhear.
Come morning, they all agree to use a different path when going in and out of the forest. In hushed whispers they discussed whether or not they should try to catch Claude. Claude was silent again. After breakfast was cooked (fish), they quietly discussed a plan. If it worked, they would get Claude’s trust and get him to come to them. If it didn’t work… he wasn’t leaving them a lot of options.
Marianne was chosen to carry out the plan. Given the largest cooked fish, Marianne nervously got to her feet. She meandered over to the edge of the clearing, close to Claude’s fox-hole but not too close (hopefully). Sitting down, she nibbled a bit on the fish.
“Oh, Marianne! Can you help me with this!” Leonie called loudly, like they planned. “Sorry, I know you’re eating!”
“I-i-it’s okay!” Mairainne whisper-shouted back. “I’m, um, not hungry anyways. I, I don’t want the rest of this.” Hilda could barely hear her mumble that part. “C-c-coming, Leonie!”
Her fish skewer was left sticking out of the ground at the edge of the clearing. The rest of them busied themselves on the side of the clearing away from Claude. Eventually she dared a peek in his direction and grinned.
The skewer was gone.
Camp fell into a routine without Claude around. They all got in a habit of loudly saying things like “I sure wish Claude would come back! I’m worried about him,” and “Still haven’t found Claude, I hope he’s okay. We’ll protect him!” and stuff like that.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner had one to three of them eating near Claude. They always had ‘leftovers’ that they abandoned, untouched. After a period of time the food would vanish, though she never once saw Claude. They left other little things, like cups of water, blankets, and little snacks. He never took the blankets, but the rest always vanished.
Every night without fail, Claude's quiet crying was audible.
On the third afternoon, she braved a peek at his foxhole. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull when she found the hole empty. On the verge of panic, she looked deeper into the hole. Claude wasn’t there, but inside the hole was the larger hollow den. There was no way she could fit in it, but it was big enough for little-Claude to stretch out (but probably not stand). It was outfitted with fresh leaves, moss, and ferns. There was Marianne’s waterskin, a small collection of pebbles, and a couple of the dried or smoked snacks they left for him stashed away. It was no wonder he never took the blankets. They were too big and bulky to fit in his hole.
She prayed that this meant he planned to come back to the hole.
Leonie pumped her fist silently, approaching her snare. One rabbit, its foot trapped in her snare. Perfect for stew meat. Dagger in hand, she approached the quivering rabbit.
“No!” came a gasp from her left. In the blink of an eye, something darted between her and the rabbit.
Claude, in all his child glory, trembled before her with his arms outstretched. Hilda seriously wasn’t kidding about him being young. She could only stare slack-jawed at him as she processed it all. His clothes were all dirty and grimy, hair dotted with sticks and leaves, cheeks smudged with dirt (with noticeable tear tracks visible, though they didn’t look too fresh). In one hand he held a branch, brandished towards her like a weapon. His lips wobbled dangerously, eyes glistening with the threat of tears.
So startled to see him at all, she immediately backed up. Dropping her bow and dagger, she raised both hands before her. “Whoa, easy. Hey there.”
“D-don’t hurt him,” Claude whispered, shaking like a leaf.
Her eyes flickered to the rabbit behind him, petrified with fear. “The rabbit? His foot is caught in the snare. Looks broken to me. He won’t be running anymore. It’s better to make his sacrifice worth it.”
Claude shook his head, tears beginning to dribble down his cheeks. Just great, why did little Claude have to be a crybaby? “No! He’s — he’s my friend! M-m-make him better! Or, or else!”
“It’s just a rabbit—”
Claude shook his stick towards her. “I, I mean it! Make him better! I won’t, won’t let you h-hurt him!”
“I’m not a healer. I can’t fix him.”
Claude seemed to consider this for a moment. “Then, then find one!”
Claude was on the path to working himself into a fit. Leonie might not be the best with kids, but she knew enough about them to know Claude was one wrong move away from a meltdown. On one hand, if he was too busy crying to run away, they could catch him. On the other hand, there was a good reason they hadn’t snuck up on him in his foxhole. If they scared Claude too badly, he might get lost deep in the woods. Ideally he would start to trust them soon.
“Okay. I’ll go find a healer for the rabbit. Okay?”
“Do it,” little-Claude commanded, sniffling and scrubbing at his tears.
“Okay. I’ll be back shortly. Don’t go anywhere!” she hastily added. “You have to wait here and make sure the rabbit, uh, doesn’t get lonely.”
Crossing his arms, Claude glared? pouted? moped? at her. “‘M not going anywhere. If I do, you’re gonna hurt Rabbit!” He plopped down right in front of the terrified rabbit.
“Right…” She rushed off to get Marianne. Luckily the rabbit and trap were close to camp. All she had to say was ‘hurt rabbit’ and Marianne was already on board (even without mentioning Claude). Bringing the healer back, she found Claude on his belly, talking to the rabbit. His voice had an odd lilt to it: not quite a lisp, but there was a subtle strangeness to the way he spoke, hovering on certain syllables too long and rushing over others.
“—nd after that’s done, we’ll run around! Do you like flowers? I like flowers! There’s a really cool flower I found. I’ll show you! When your leg is better. It’s okay, I won’t let anyone hurt you. And when it’s cold you can sleep with me. I’ll keep you safe from the cold too!” Claude noticed their arrival and went silent, scrambling to his feet. The flip from ‘cute child’ to ‘upset, pouty child’ gave her whiplash.
“I, um, h-h-hi. Hello,” Marianne whispered, wringing her hands. “I’ll, um, h-heal the rabbit.”
Claude narrowed his eyes, but nodded. He was stiff as a board as Marianne approached the rabbit. She whispered soothing noises to the terrified creature — both the rabbit and Claude. After a few moments, light lit up her fingers, and Marianne caressed the rabbit’s leg. Undoing the snare, the rabbit bolted away.
“Ah! W-wait!” Claude called out after the rabbit. “W-we’re friends now! Come back, wait for me!” He took a step forward, then deflated as he realized the rabbit was already gone. “Oh. Okay…” He sniffled, staring at the ground. “I’ll just visit the flowers alone again.”
“U-um…”
Claude jumped, whirling on Marianne. Twisting his head back and forth, he chose to flee instead. Leonie cursed under her breath. At least he ran off towards the campsite (probably back to his foxhole).
“That was a bust,” Leonie hissed. She’d hoped Claude would see they weren’t scary. Now there was nothing to show for it, and they were down a rabbit for stew. “I guess I’ll try fishing again. Who knew Claude used to be such a bleeding heart.”
“U-um…” Marianne found Claude by a patch of lavenders, watching the clouds by himself. Hearing her, he jumped upright and prepared to bolt. “W-wait! I, I, um, b-b-brought your friend!”
Claude paused, his wide eyes darting to her arms. He gasped, mouth falling open. “Rabbit! You came back!” He inched forward but dithered a few feet away from her.
She sat down and stroked down the rabbit’s fur. “He’s very nice, is it okay if he pets you?” she asked the rabbit. The wild rabbit was still twitchy, unable to really trust her. She looked back up at Claude. “Y-you can come close, b-but be gentle. He spooks easily.” Just like Claude.
Claude wiggled in place, biting his lips. After watching her pet the rabbit for a little bit, he shuffled closer, never taking his eye off of her hands. Slowly he reached out and brushed the rabbit’s fur. A tiny smile lit up his face.
They sat together in silence for a time. After a little bit, Claude began whispering to the rabbit. His words were all nonsense, but he seemed happy to speak them regardless. Slowly he relaxed, those wide green eyes trailing up to meet her own. “C-can he stay with me tonight?”
“Oh. I’m sorry, he’s, um, very shy. I don’t think, um, I don’t think he will want to leave his own home tonight.”
“Okay. Can you talk to him?”
“I, um… yes,” she admitted. “He, um, he really appreciates that you saved him.” The rabbit didn’t, not really. He didn’t know that Claude saved him, only that Marianne healed him and let him go. But if the rabbit understood, she thought that was what he’d say to Claude.
“Can I stay the night in his home, then?” Claude asked quietly, an edge of pleading to his voice.
“U-um, rabbit holes are really small. You can, um, stay with us…? Um, m-me and my class. We have a camp.”
Claude curled his knees up to his chest, never taking his eyes off of her. “No thank you,” he whispered, almost silent. His stomach rumbled. She hated watching Claude so small and lonely. If only it wasn’t for her curse, he surely wouldn’t have been so unlucky to be cursed as well.
“I don’t get it,” Lysithea shouted. Her head ached from all the spell work, all for nothing! She buried her face in her hands. She had to track the artifact. There wasn’t any hope of turning Claude back without it! But no matter what she did, she couldn’t pick up any warp trail. It made no sense. Even with such a small object, she should have been able to find a trace of a warp!
At this rate, she might have to ask Lorenz for help. Her pride would never recover. Lorenz was less skilled than her (by a lot), but maybe he would find something that she didn’t. She was running out of ways to track this artifact…
Taking a little bit of time for himself, Ignatz perched on a log and sketched the swollen river before him. He justified the pastime as a way to compare the flow's height to future levels, but in truth he was itching for an outlet. Being trapped and forced to camp without the professor was already nerve wracking. Without Claude, it was even worse.
Claude. No one really seemed to know what to think about their leader-turned-child. The small boy he occasionally saw zipping out of the fox hole for food didn’t look like Claude, not in the way he expected. Imagining a child-Claude evoked the picture of a laughing, carefree, happy boy, bubbling with the rare curiosity that Claude secretly brimmed with. He would never have expected the skittish, scared boy.
Sighing, he picked his pencil up and got back to work. No matter how he tried to lose himself in his work, he couldn’t stop thinking of Claude’s nightly sobs. He couldn’t imagine how scared…
What was that?
He didn’t stop sketching, didn’t look towards the noise. At first he thought it was a woodland critter coming up to investigate him. The sounds slowly slotted into place: little footsteps trying to be quiet. He dared a small peek, barely glancing in the direction of the noise.
A small boy — it was still hard to reconcile the boy being Claude — tiptoed towards him. Big green eyes were fixed not on Ignatz, but on his sketchbook. He shifted a little, startling Claude into a comically frozen position. He didn’t face Claude, but angled himself so his sketchbook was just a little easier to see.
He faked a few gentle lines down the paper, pretending like he was going back to work on it. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Claude slowly began creeping forward again. He almost blew his cover by laughing as Claude crouched behind the log, failing to hide himself at all as he rested his chin on the wood to stare at the drawing.
After a few minutes, he inhaled deeply and took a risk. Very slowly he looked towards Claude. A little gasp was followed by Claude’s eyes growing wider, then ducking to hide behind the log. It was silly; he could still see Claude from his vantage point, but Claude didn’t realize that.
“You can watch, if you want,” he murmured, praying to the Goddess that he didn’t sound threatening. Claude didn’t move, still curled up in a ball.
Biting his lip, he forced himself to look back at the river. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn't make things worse. The last thing he wanted was for Claude to run off into the woods — though according to Leonie, the boy spent time in the woods anyways. Given Ignatz trekked through a fair amount of woods to find his drawing spot, apparently she was right. He traced a few lines, unable to focus on his art. Ignoring Claude seemed to be the right idea though. Slowly, the boy inched his way up onto the log. Before he knew it, Claude sat on the log beside him as a bundle of restless nerves. Any movement from him that wasn’t stroking a line elicited flinches from Claude. He really didn’t like what that implied. He didn’t like any of what this situation implied about Claude.
“Do you like to draw?” Ignatz asked, the silence killing him.
Claude did not, in fact, flee at the sound of his voice. The boy did jump a few inches off the log, but he didn’t run. Just when Ignatz gave up on getting an answer, Claude replied with an almost silent “Mmhm.”
“Oh. Me too,” was the best reply he could come up with. “I, um, I usually paint. But I don’t have my supplies with me. And it’s important to sketch it out first. Well, for some styles. It depends on the kind of painting I want to do. But I’m just sketching right now. Because I don’t have paint.” He clamped his jaw shut, mentally curing his nervous blabbing.
“What’s ‘sketching’ mean?” Claude earnestly asked, tilting his head. The boy wasn’t smiling, but for once he didn’t look fearful.
Just like that, the floodgates opened. For each answer he gave, Claude babbled off three or four new questions. Before long Claude wasn’t just asking about drawing or words — he was asking about the river, and the forest, and the plants and animals. Then he wasn’t asking questions at all.
“And then, the rabbit ran away from me! But, um, Miss Blue called it back, ‘cause she’s friends with Rabbit, and I gotta pet him! His fur was really soft, and I wanted him to come back to bed with me, but he didn’t wanna come,” Claude was telling him. The boy shifted back and forth on the log as if physically incapable of staying still. “Are you friends with Miss Blue too?”
“If you mean Marianne, the lady with light blue hair, then yes. At least, I like to think we’re friends.”
“Mare-ee-ann. Mare…ee…ann!”
It was impossible not to smile at Claude’s slow pronunciation. He did it whenever Ignatz explained a big-ish word to him. “Yes, like that. Good job. My name is Ignatz, by the way.”
“Ig…naaah…tzz. Ig-naughhh-tzzzz!” Claude pouted up at him. “That’s hard! What’s it mean?”
“Oh, um, it’s just my name. It doesn’t mean anything.” Claude evidently wasn’t happy with his explanation, his little frown turning into a glare. “Does ‘Claude’ mean something to you?” He turned the question back on Claude.
“Cuh-laud-duh. Nope. What’s it mean?”
He hated to disappoint Claude’s eager curiosity. “It’s just another name, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, okay! Mama says my name means… um… forever! No, there’s another word, ummm…” Claude puffed up his cheeks, mumbling to himself. “Et… etesal…? Etable? El…em… It starts with an E!”
“Eternal?”
Claude lit up. “Yeah! Eternal! That’s the word she said!”
He scratched his chin, uncertain whether or not Claude’s mom made that up. “So Claude means eternal?”
“No! My name means eternal!”
A pit opened in his stomach. “Your name… isn’t Claude?”
The boy shook his head. “Uh-uh! I’m Khalid. Kha-leed! Now you say it.”
“Ka…leed,” he dumbly repeated, the foregn syllables bouncing around his ears. There were two possibilities: The first option was that this wasn’t Claude at all. It would explain why he was so skittish, so un-Claude-like. But looking at his chubby cheeks, wide green eyes, single loop earring, and dangling braid… it was very hard to claim the boy in front of him wasn’t a child version of their Golden Deer leader. The other possibility was that this was Claude, but Claude wasn’t his real name.
“KHA-leed! KHA!” Not-Claude forcefully corrected.
“Kuh-uh…leed?” He had never heard that pronunciation in his life. He thought he said it right the first time, but apparently he said it wrong.
“No!”
Claude was tan for a noble. Against Lorenz or Lysithea’s pale skin, it was a blaring symbol that at least one of Claude’s parents wasn't of noble birth. When lumped together with Raphael or Leonie though, it wasn’t as noticeable. Between working in the sun more often and naturally being a bit darker, after a long day in the sun Raphael came close to Claude’s skin tone. Ignatz always just assumed Claude was just very tan. In hindsight that was very, very shortsighted and foolish of him. It just hadn’t occurred to him that Claude von Riegan, heir to House Riegan could even be a foreigner. Personally he didn’t have a problem with it at all — in fact, it explained Claude’s creative, out-of-the-box thinking and perspective — but surely someone would have objected to his place as heir? It was unthinkable in a place like Leicester.
Well. If no one knew, no one would object. Khalid was an obviously foreign name. Claude on the other hand, while sounding similar, was a common name. “You had to give up your own name…?” he whispered, staring at this chubby-cheeked Claude in a new light. What else did you give up to fit into Leicester’s expectations?
“Huh? No?” Claude — Khalid — tilted his head. “Give… up? Uh-uh, it’s mine, you can’t have my name! You have your own, Iggggzztp.” Khalid ended the poor attempt at his name by blowing a raspberry. “Um, if you don’t want yours, I guess we can share.” Khalid bit his lip and looked away, a clear sign that he didn’t want to ‘share’ his name.
He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It’s okay, I’ll keep my own. Thank you for offering.” A dreadful revelation killed his amusement: If Khalid told the other Golden Deer he was Khalid, not Claude, surely the rest of them would come to the same conclusion. All of Claude’s mysteriousness, his secrecy, maybe even his legitimacy as Heir to Riegan — this altered version of himself could ruin it all with one innocent slip. “What do you say to, ah, a nickname? It’s hard for me to say Ka-leed, and you have trouble calling me Ignatz. Claude sounds a lot like Kalid, how about I call you that?” He was fairly confident that he could get the name Khalid right with a few more tries, but for Claude’s sake, he would pretend it was too hard.
Khalid pouted. “But that’s not my name!”
“It’s just a temporary name, that’s all. Friends nickname friends all the time.”
Gasping, Khalid’s eyes went wide. “We’re… friends?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded. “I’d like to be your friend, if you’ll have me.”
“I’ve never had a friend,” Khalid whispered, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “You mean it?”
His heart crumbled. “Of course,” he replied honestly. He wasn’t very close with Claude. No one was, not really. “Of course I’ll be your friend, Claude.”
“And… friends have ‘nick-names’?” The boy didn’t sound enthused. “No one ever calls me by my name…”
He nearly gave in then and there, but older-Claude wouldn’t want his real name coming out. “What do they call you, then?”
Khalid hunched in on himself. “You don’t know…? But, everyone knows. I’m—” Khalid said a foreign word. Judging by his expression, it probably wasn’t a nice word.
He shook his head. “No one will call you that here.” In part because no one knew what that word was. “How about I just call you Claude until I can say Kuhleed right? Is that okay?”
“I guess…”
Dear Goddess, give me the strength to protect Claude’s secrets. The boy just looked so sad. “What do you want to call me, then?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
Khalid’s expression shifted from sadness to thoughtfulness. “Um… Igg… Igg? Iggggzp. Iggzip! Iggssssp. Pppft.” Khalid dissolved into blowing raspberries.
“That’s what you want to call me?” Ignatz mimicked Khalid, sticking out his tongue. “Pppft?”
Khalid giggled, and proceeded to blow more raspberries. “That’s too hard to say all the time! Iggy!”
“Iggy? I like that.”
“You’re Iggy, and I’m Kuladd. Kuuh…Kuuuuhloud!” Ignatz winced at the butchered pronunciation. Before he could add anything, Khalid’s stomach loudly rumbled.
“Oh. You must be hungry. How about you come back to camp with me, and I’ll get you something to eat.”
Khalid’s expression closed off. “Um… no thank you.”
“You’re not hungry?” Khalid clearly was hungry. “I’ll introduce you to the rest of my friends. Then you can have more friends too.”
Khalid bit his lip and looked away. “But, um… will the” — he garbled another unknown word — “be there?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means.”
Khalid repeated the nonsense word again. “She’ll eat me.”
“I promise no one will eat you. I think you’ll like my friend Raphael. Maybe you’ve seen him? He’s very big and tall.”
“Raaaf-eye-ell. He won’t hurt me?”
Oh, Claude. “No, no one will hurt you. I promise you.”
Khalid didn’t look convinced, but he shyly curled his fingers around Ignatz’s hand. Those wide emerald eyes shimmered up at him, so uncertain. “Okay…”
When they got to the edge of camp, Khalid tucked himself behind Ignatz’s legs.
“Ignatz, hey! You’re back!” Raphael bellowed, waving him over. “I was just gonna come get you!”
“I’ll be over in a minute!” he called back. Khalid trembled against his legs, clinging to his pants. Maybe loud Raphael wasn’t the best person to introduce him to first… “Marianne? Can I get your help?”
Marianne rose and walked over, Hilda joining her. “Um, I don’t know if I can — oh.” Marianne paused as her eyes fell to Khalid. “U-um, h-hi again.”
Hilda gasped. “Good job, Ignatz!” She knelt down to Khalid’s eye level. “Hey there, Claude! I bet you’re hungry, huh? We’ve got plenty of extra food to share. Don’t be afraid, we’ll keep you safe.”
It took a beat for Ignatz to notice the frantic tugging at his pants. Looking down, Khalid was shaking even harder than before. The boy angled Ignatz between himself and Hilda, breathing coming out in sharp little pants.
“Can you give him some extra space please, Hilda?” She wasn’t very close at all, but it seemed to be too close for Khalid regardless. She frowned but took a few steps back. Ignatz squatted down beside Khalid. “Don’t worry, no one will hurt you. I promised, remember? We’re friends.”
Khalid gave an animalistic whine, not taking his eyes off of Hilda for a moment. Despite that, Khalid pressed against him, nearly knocking him over from the frantic movement. He thumped onto the ground and Khalid squeezed into his lap, desperately clinging against him. Tugging on his clothes, Khalid shook his head back and forth. Unsure what to do, or where to put his hands, or even what Khalid was doing, he dared to circle one arm around Khalid. Apparently that was the correct course of action, as the little boy latched onto his arm like a bear stuffy.
“Make her go away,” Khalid whispered, barely a breath. “Please, please…!”
Hilda was what scared him so badly? The question of ‘why’ hung on his tongue, but he swallowed it. Now wasn’t the time for that. “Hilda, um, maybe just me and Marianne should talk to him right now. We don’t want to overwhelm him with too many people…?”
Hilda pouted. “I’m super nice though! Look at me Claude, I’m all dainty and small, I can’t even hurt a fly.” She took a step forward and Khalid reacted by bursting into tears. He tried to look at the bright side: Khalid wasn’t running away. Instead the boy was trying to squeeze the life out of him, burying his face against him to ‘hide’. Hilda backed up immediately, her expression cracking. “I… I didn’t mean to… Um, sorry. I’ll just… be over there.”
He waited until she was on the other side of the camp, unsure what to do other than continue holding Khalid. Marianne dithered, shifting from foot to foot, looking just as lost as him. Raphael was really good with kids but he didn’t want to risk making Khalid even more afraid. Goddess. He felt the eyes of the entire camp on his back, but Hilda must have told them all to stay away for now.
One small eternity later, Khalid calmed down to quiet sniffles and little hiccups. “Do you feel better…?” he asked. Khalid didn’t reply. “Are you still hungry…?” Slowly, the boy nodded. “Do you want some dinner?”
“…Juice too?”
He bit his lip. “Is water okay?”
Khalid nodded, weakly fisting against his shirt. “‘M cold.”
“I, um, c-can get you a blanket?” Marianne spoke up.
“Or we can sit by the fire if you want to be warmer faster. There’s people over there though.”
“Is the” — again he spoke that foreign word — “there?”
“Do you mean Hilda? The one with pink hair?”
Khalid nodded, peeking over his shoulder.
“I think, um, she went with Leonie to check on some things,” Marianne said.
“…Fire, please?”
“Sure thing.” Hefting Khalid into a better position, he stood up and carried the boy over to the fire. Whether it was from lack of food or from crying so much, Khalid was tuckered out. Sitting down by the fire, by some miracle everyone took the hint to be quiet.
Raphael kept his distance but handed two fish skewers to Ignatz. “I bet someone’s hungry, huh!” Raphael whisper-shouted. Khalid flinched, but otherwise seemed too tired to be scared. “My name’s Raphael.”
“Raf-eel,” Khalid quietly repeated.
“There ya go, little bud! Go on and eat.”
Khalid’s eyes fell down to the fish skewer that Ignatz held for him. Slowly he took a few nibbles, then lunged at it and devoured it in messy fashion. It was a bit hard for Ignatz to eat his own meal while watching that gross display, but he made do.
Silence stifled everything. No one wanted to be the one to set Khalid off like Hilda did. Eventually, as Khalid finished his meal, it was Lorenz who broke the silence.
“He truly does need a bath.” Ignatz had to agree, but now didn't seem like a good time for that. Not when Khalid barely trusted him. That said, Khalid’s clothes were caked in dirt, stains, and mud. And the boy’s face, and hair, and… yes, Khalid really did need a bath. Lorenz continued. “Now then! It seems Claude is calm now. Ignatz, do give Claude a bath, yes?”
Before he could reply, Khalid spoke up, tugging on Ignatz’s sleeve. “How come everyone knows my nickname?”
He sharply inhaled. “Oh! Um, it’s, uh, I… I already told them!”
Khalid frowned at him. “But they’re not my friends. Iggy, I don’t wanna be Kuh-ladd. I don’t like it.”
Oh no. “W-well, it’s just, um—” Everyone was looking at him and Khalid.
“You do not wish to be called Claude?” Lorenz asked. “Pray tell whatever else we would call you.”
“I dunno what that means,” Khalid muttered, crossing his arms. Green eyes darted from person to person. “U-um. I’m, um, I’m Khalid. B-b-but Iggy calls me Kul-ladd. H-hi.”
If he wasn’t holding Khalid, he would have slapped his face. Sorry Claude, I tried!
“That’s not Claude?!”
“Please calm down,” Ignatz called out. He emphatically nodded down to Khalid, who was giving his best effort to sink into Ignatz. If he wasn’t so tired, Ignatz would bet Khalid would be crying again. “He, uh, told me about that! He’s definitely Claude though, just look at his earring and, well, face! Aha. I’ll, um, I’ll explain later!” Goddess, please let him think of something to salvage Claude’s secret.
Lorenz opened his mouth, but those purple eyes dropped down to Khalid. Whatever he saw, it was enough to render the noble silent. Probably an exhausted and scared child, because that was what Ignatz saw. Lorenz merely nodded to him and left it at that. For now.
“‘M cold,” Khalid mumbled, eyelids heavy.
He picked out a few twigs out of the boy’s hair. “How about a hot soak in water? Do you want that?”
Khalid perked up. “Mmhmm!”
He sighed in relief. Maybe a bath wouldn’t be so hard after all! “Raphael, do you think the soup pot is big enough to use as a makeshift tub for him? We can heat up the water, then take it off the fire.” Given it was brought by Raphael, the pot was nearly the size of a small cauldron. It was handy to make a trip with someone who purposely carried heavy equipment for training. Much better than doing without.
“An excellent idea,” Lorenz proclaimed. “It will be simple to add cold water to cool it down should it become too hot.”
“U-um, we can sink the cauldron in the river, t-to make sure the metal itself isn’t hot.”
“Just leave it to me! I’ll haul the water wherever we need it!”
While Raphael worked to get warm water for Khalid to wash in, the rest of them worked to wrangle Khalid out of his clothes. It was both easier and harder than expected. The boy was falling asleep at this point, offering no resistance. It was made more difficult by the clothes themselves. Like Khalid’s name, the clothes were of some strange foreign style. The clasps and ties were hard to find, all located in unexpected spots.
“Is that silk?” Lorenz asked, ‘observing’ the process but not helping out.
He frowned. “You know… I think it is!” Either Khalid’s family was rich enough to splurge silk fabric for a child, or silk was cheap where Khalid was from. He pulled away another sash (how many was that? The third? Fourth?) and finally ran out of cloth. Khalid’s robe fell away, and it took everything Ignatz had to not cry out at what he found.
“Oh… oh dear,” Lorenz whispered. He nodded dumbly. Along Khalid’s hip ran a long, mostly healed wound. It stretched from the base of his hip and up his side, ending under his armpit. “Marianne! We require your assistance!”
Marianne peeked over, clutching a comb she pulled out of Hilda’s pack. “O-oh my. Um, Cla… K-Khalid, um, does it hurt?” Khalid grumbled, his eyes fighting to stay open. The boy just shook his head. “I’m, um, going to heal it, okay?” She pressed her fingers over the wound, her eyes bugging. “Oh. Oh, dear Goddess. Does, does it hurt?”
Khalid mumbled something in a different language. Blinking awake a little, he shook his head again. “‘S… duddn’t feel.”
“It’s numb?”
“Mmhm, tha’s the word. Numb.”
Biting her lip, Marianne looked between Lorenz and Ignatz. “The wound is from a veninstone blade. Um, I can’t heal this. It’s mostly healed already, um, n-naturally. It should get better on its own. I’m surprised he, um…” survived.
He gaped. Veninstone?! Khalid was just a kid! Who would use a veninstone blade on a child? Goddess, who would use any blade against a child!? While he might not know a great deal about healing, he knew veninstone poisoning was difficult to treat. Either Khalid had gotten very, very lucky, or his parents knew some excellent healers. It was — what would Lysithea call it? Overkill.
“Cold,” Khalid whimpered, clutching himself as he shivered.
“Sorry,” he whispered back, quickly undressing the boy the rest of the way.
Through teamwork, they successfully gave Khalid a bath. It helped that the warm water practically knocked the boy out. Eventually Khalid was all clean again and they settled him on a bedroll and used whatever they had to dry him off (they didn’t have any towels, unfortunately). The cold made Khalid whimper and squirm.
Between his and Lysithea’s packed clothes, as well as a few pieces from Claude’s spare outfit, they wrapped Khalid in an outfit that wouldn’t (entirely) drown the boy. Leonie promised to wash the kid’s clothes, though Hilda looked like she was going to have a stroke from her spot across the clearing. Probably because Leonie was prepared to wash all the colorful silk like common linens. Lorenz stepped in and stopped her.
A fresh wave of sniffles came from Khalid. “What’s wrong?” he murmured, collecting the boy back into his lap. Claude was a surprisingly clingy and cuddly child.
“I want Mama and Baba.” A fresh wave of tears rolled down the boy’s face.
“I… I’m sorry, um, they aren’t here right now.”
“They’re coming, r-right?” Khalid scrubbed at his cheeks, but more tears took the place of the ones he wiped away. “I’m a big boy, I gotta wait and be pay-tent. ‘Cause Mama always comes for me, b-but I want her now, Iggy. I want Mama, I want Mama!” He broke out into more sobs, calling out for his mother.
“Shh, shh, I’m sure she’s coming to get you,” he lied, rocking back and forth.
“B-b-but the bad men are coming too! I want Mama!” After a heartbreaking wail, Khalid went back to whispering. “W-what if she doesn’t get here before the bad men? The bad men are really scary, Iggy.”
“We’ll protect you. Our class is very strong and we all know how to fight. We won’t allow any ‘bad man’ to hurt you, Khalid.”
“P-promise? I don’t want to be locked in a box again…”
“Promise. We’ll keep you safe no matter what.”
With a few more sniffles, Khalid buried his face against him and fell asleep. Everyone else was staring at Claude with pity, shock, or horror. Ignatz got up and headed for his bedroll. It wasn’t dark yet, but it was late enough in the evening. Khalid was probably going to have another nightmare tonight (like every other night). He was going to be with the boy when that happened no matter what. Claude didn’t have to be scared or alone anymore. He told Claude that they were friends and he meant that. Friends didn’t allow friends to be alone when they were afraid. Raphael told him that once. He was going to make sure Claude learned it too.