Chapter 147 - My SI Stash #47 - Birth and Re-Death by ThreeDollarBratwurst (Fire Emblem) (1/2)

-SI as a Healer in the world of Fire Emblem. Ala Re: Zero; our protagonist keeps respawning after his untimely death(s)~

*I fell in love with Fire Emblem chars after my friends forcing me to play Smash with em, and also cause I love spamming Chrom/Ike~

ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Sypnosis: I swear, every time I turn around, someone else has got a clever idea to get me killed. And it usually works. Death doesn't seem too keen on sticking with me, though, so I guess I can get over it. Self-insert. Playfully testing the limits of what Rated T means. Cover image by Xcell

Rated: T

Words: 403K

Posted on: fanfiction.net/s/12528832/1/Birth-and-Re-Death (ThreeDollarBratwurst)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1: At Least the Robe Is Cool

When I wake up, I am surprised to find myself slumped over in a wildly uncomfortable barstool. Everything is exceedingly hazy, but through the haze I feel an ache through each of my poor vertebrae. How on earth had I fallen asleep in that position?

”How on earth did I fall asleep in that position?” I ask out loud as my vision comes into focus. I am indeed seated at a bar, and a pretty old-timey looking one at that. The bartender gives me a disgruntled snort. He is very large, and very mustachioed.

”Hell if I know. Yeh came in as soon as I opened the place, ordered one drink, and were asleep before I could pour it,” he says, his voice sounding like he gargles pebbles for fun.

I don't remember that at all. I don't know this bar, or why I would have started day-drinking. That doesn't sound like me. ”Did I say anything aside from that?” I ask, a little mumbly from the lingering tiredness.

”Not a word. Well, unless you count the snoring,” the bartender replies. Right. Perfect.

”Okay, next, and there's no way to ask this without shaming myself: where is this exactly?” I ask.

”Hah, you're pretty messed in the head,” the bartender chuckles. ”Southeast side of town, near the river.”

What river? What town? I'm very confused. ”I'm very confused,” I admit shamefully.

The bartender sighs. ”You don't look like a local. Maybe you're from out of town. You're in Southtown.”

”Southtown...where?”

”What?”

”I've never heard of Southtown. What state are we in?” Did I really go that far from home? My head hurts.

”State? Well, I'm in pretty good shape, but I'm not so sure about you,” he replies. Oh ha ha. A comedian. Nice.

”Fine, you don't wanna help, I'll just-” I stop mid-sentence, as I reach down and find my phone isn't in my pocket. Also, these pants feel weird. I look down at myself. ”Waaaah!”

”What? What? Did you get sick in your l_a_p or something?” the bartender asks.

”When did I change into goddamn Renfest clothes?” I ask nobody in particular.

”What's a Renfest?” he asks, c_o_c_king his head slightly. I spring out of my seat, turning around a few times to get a better look at myself. Something is definitely up.

I am not supposed to be this tall. I won't complain, of course, but I am definitely like four or five inches taller than I'm meant to be. And holy hell, but I seem to have lost a strange amount of weight. I'd say my waist looks downright average, which is a marked improvement. Is this just lingering drunken confidence?

My clothes are also quite different than anything I remember owning. I am wearing robes, honest to god robes, and they're honestly pretty fancy. Black for a base, with dark blue trim and accents. There's a small shoulder shroud, also black with blue trim. The black leather belt matches my boots. I'm not gonna lie; this getup looks pretty sweet.

Not that it wasn't raising dozens of questions by the minute. I shoved as many into the back of my head as I could. ”So, uh, did I come in with anything else?” I finally settle on asking. Maybe my phone is in my bag or something and I can get a grip on what's going on.

”Yeah, here,” he says, disappearing below the bar for a moment and returning with a canvas sack and what appears to be a staff. Like, a full-size staff, a much better-looking prop than I'd ever pay for sober. Was I drunk cosplaying or something? I look through the sack and find, weirdly, a bunch of camping supplies. Am I on a trip or something? That doesn't sound right. I repack the sack and sling it over my shoulder for now.

”So, I didn't say anything to you as I came in?” I ask once more. He shakes his head as I pick up the staff. It's heavier than I thought it would be. Is this made of actual metal? It also feels kinda like it's vibrating in my hand as I hold it, but so faintly that it's more like a vague tingling sensation. Also, the orb-looking thing on top of it had a small light shining in it. This really was an expensive prop. ”I think I'm gonna try and get my bearings outside a little bit. Thanks,” I say. He grunts a farewell as I open the door and step outside.

Oh.

I think I'm starting to get it.

”So when he said Southtown, he meant…” I say to myself as I take in the scene before me. True to his word, we are near a babbling river, on the other side of which are a multitude of townsfolk. But these weren't the kind of folk I'm used to. This is an honest-to-god medieval town, with horse-drawn carriages and a big well and everything. ”But that would…” My brain moves in so many directions that it simply cancels out for a while, and I stand there stupidly while my psyche catches up.

The question of ”why?” comes up a few times, but gets quickly dismissed on the grounds that I have no way of figuring that out. I eventually decide to settle on what I know before getting into anything I don't.

This really does look like Southtown as I remember it, which suggests this really is Ylisse.

I am in what I have been led to believe is a fictional town.

It is very much not a fictional town anymore, as I am standing in it.

Holy shit! I'm in a Fire Emblem town!

I don't look like I normally do, and my clothes have definitely changed.

However, I maintain the self-awareness to know I don't normally belong here.

This is starting to feel a little bit cliched. I hope the feeling doesn't last.

I woke up a healer? Lame.

Whenever I thought about what I would wanna do as an FE character, I always figured I'd be a merc. Good all-around stats, some of the game's best skills, and they get swords. Sign me the hell up.

I let myself get distracted for a while, thinking on that, when a new thought hits me. When is this? The town looks intact, which means we aren't under attack yet. But is that because this is early, or much later after rebuilding?

My question is answered when I hear a scream from somewhere on the other side of the river. A building starts to smoke and within moments is up in open flames. My legs don't know what to do. About a minute later, I see a few men with axes storming up the street, chasing a small crowd of townsfolk to the north side of town. Before I have time to process what's going on, I hear another crash to my left as more bandits enter from the southeast.

My legs decide what to do. I run as quickly as I can up the road, crossing the bridge and trying to draw as little attention as possible. As I do so, I start to realize what their idea seems to be. They're funneling everyone into the large church on the north side of town, probably to keep them-

My thoughts were interrupted by a villager in front of my being shredded with wind magic. Crap, I forgot they have mages. That's also a lot more blood than I was expecting. The same mage sends a blast at me. Before I can move, it hits me. However, I'm surprised to find that although I stagger a little, and my face gets a small cut or two, it doesn't really hurt that much. Certainly not enough to slice and dice me like this poor guy in front of me.

”Haha, that's right! Healers get super resistance!” I cheer, more to myself than anyone. Annoyed, he levels another wind blade in my direction. It too catches me, stinging a little but not putting me in real danger. Without thinking, I stalk over to him as he prepares another blast and, turning my staff over in my hands, hit him upside the head with the bottom end. Ooo, right in the temple. Yeah, he's down. Probably alive, but not feeling too good. I didn't know that was allowed, though. Did I break some rule by hitting him back? I don't think healers are supposed to hit back.

Shrugging, I decide it's probably best to hide until the Shepherds arrive. Aaaah, am I going to meet the Shepherds? I take refuge behind a small retaining wall and watch cautiously as the overrunning of the town progresses. I consider trying to help the townsfolk, but decide I'm not much of a match for a large band of thieves just yet.