RD 5 Ch 18

We had only just stepped out of the village when one of the Mul Branovas spoke up. "I thought Bran was one of the greatest warriors of this world," she frowned, glancing over at me. Apparently, my performance wasn't up to their standards.

I shot a pained glance towards Simone and let out a heavy sigh. "The truth is, I have been cursed and weakened. There are several seals that I must break," I confessed, mixing the truth with my act of being Lord Bran.

Simone flashed another angry glare in my direction, but I was more than happy to ignore that. It went right along with my admission, something the Saintess herself would rather Lord Bran not admit. 

The new recruit gasped and covered her mouth. "Truly, who could be so horrendous as to curse Lord Bran?" 

I shook my head, knowing I was going to have to think fast if I was going to make this both help me move forward and satisfy my role as Bran Heros for Simone. 

"It is almost too painful to admit," I said, lamenting, and facing the speaker. "But the Demon Lord attempted to break up my forces, cursing each of their minds into not believing the truth before them. The end result," I gestured afield, "The Mul Branova had forgotten me until I returned. I suspect the situation is similar with the other forces as well. That Circe, Almeria, and Winnie have forgotten me as well. This attack by Winnie's people is just more evidence to me that she's lost her way."

"That is so sad," the new Mul Branova covered her mouth, and Simone, for the first time, gave me a strange, appraising look.

“Please don’t discuss this further, we have to keep an image up to the other forces and it undermines Bran.” Simone pressed herself to my side and I wrapped my arm around her enjoying it for a moment as if it were real.

The other drifted away, beginning to chatter to the newest recruits giving me a moment with Simone.

“Speak.” She said sharply while still resting her head on my shoulder.

"Right, well, we're working together. Yeah?" I asked, holding a hand out towards her. "I don't want to fight. I don't want to take over. I don't want to cause problems for the Mul Branova, or be a problem that you have to fix. However, I do need you to give me a chance. Because whether you like it or not, we are partners in all of this. At the very least, we have to fake it like we are. Or someone will use our lie as a wedge and try to drive it between you and the Mul Branova at the worst possible time. At least, if I were fighting the Mul Branova, I'd play dirty like that."

She held my gaze for another long second and nodded. "You've made your point. Now, please, get back to your job of cleaning the bloodlines out of the dungeons so that we can satisfy our new recruits."

I slapped a salute at her and couldn't keep the grin off my face. "On your orders, oh lovely Saintess," I winked at her. And oh boy, did it make her pissed.

She had told me more than enough times that she was, without a doubt, Bran's and only Bran's. Apparently, flirting with her was akin to playing with fire. Thankfully for me, I'd worked on my fire resistance plenty.

***

After we returned to Simone's castle, there was an immediate whirlwind of activity. There was not a moment for Simone or me to have time alone and address the sudden tension between us. I think if pressed, Simone would refuse to admit that anything was wrong.

However, knowing her as I did, I could tell she was disturbed by what I had said. The idea that I had been cursed, my forces split, and my strength sealed was not impossible. In fact, it was plausible enough that, if I didn't miss my mark, Simone was doubting herself and her judgment of me. 

Though I knew Simone was a strong woman and telling her outright that she was wrong would likely have the opposite effect. She would probably double down on her current beliefs. So all I could do was let that simmer in her thoughts until she finally resolved them herself. 

Today, I found myself idling in her castle, checking over a number of inscriptions, bolstering some where I could, and generally keeping myself busy and helpful while also staying entirely out of the way.

So when I looked up from my current work to find Simone leaning against the wall, watching me closely, I couldn't help but smirk and hope this was a chance. 

"So if your strength is sealed, how do we unseal it?" She asked.

"Oh, do you believe me?" I asked, knowing there was no way it would be that easy. 

Simone shook her head. "No, but I've had that very question from no less than a dozen of the Mul Branova, now very eager to help Lord Bran out of his predicament. Many of them have the fanciful idea that sleeping with you might be the best way to break the seals." 

I refused to rise to the bait and smile or smirk at that, instead keeping a poker face and watching Simone for her next move. "Quite outlandish," I agreed. "But I can understand why we have to come up with another solution before the Mul Branova cause an issue." 

Simone snorted before nodding. "At least you're taking your role seriously," she said, "along with the restrictions." 

I smiled. "No reason for me to go against your desires. After all, at a certain point here, I'm starting to think of us as partners." 

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say as Simone's face dropped into a scowl. 

"Or not," I hedged. 

"It's fine," Simone sighed and waved away my concern. "But still, we do need something to tell the Mul Branova. And since you made up the first lie, I'm going to ask that you make up the second."

"Well, what if I was telling the truth?" I said, staring Simone in the eyes. "That I was Bran and my powers were sealed, and that the only way for me to unseal them would be to subdue each of the four ladies and their armies present." 

Simone had the gall to scoff in my face. "If you aren't going to tell me, at least have enough respect not to make up stories." 

I smiled dryly at her. "Fine, have it your way. Since it's a story, then let's just run with that. My powers are sealed and subduing the four leaders is how I will unseal them. At least that gets your Mul Branova nice and motivated to fight back against them." 

The mention of that made Simone pause. "I suppose there's some value, and at least you didn't try and claim that sleeping with the Mul Branova or something equally ridiculous was the solution." 

"Of course not, you made it clear that's firmly off limits." I smiled and sat back, finding myself very satisfied with the way this conversation went. A combative Simone was a confused Simone, and I needed her confused, questioning herself, if I could really end her assumption that I was not the Bran she was looking for.

***

Simone found herself both alone, yet also so often surrounded by people. The lie she was telling the rest of the Mul Branova about the fake Bran in many ways isolated her and gnawed at her purpose. She was here to push the Mul Branova forward, and though parading him as the real Bran was an end that justified the means, it meant she had secrets even from her closest confidants amongst the Mul Branova. 

Then again, there was always the possibility that had been tickling in the back of her head recently that he could perhaps, maybe, be the real Bran. That he could really have his power sealed, sent here to somehow reclaim the fragments of the forces he had previously brought together.

"No, there's no way he could be the real Bran," she thought to herself. He had been such a poor fighter against Winnie's assassin.

Bran would have never, in a million years, have lost such a fight. Then again, he did sort of fight like Bran, using his body without a care in the world for how injured he became. That was very Bran-like. And then turning things around with an inscription was also very much the man she loved and yet could not remember. 

But there's no way. How could it be Bran? And how could she not recognize him?

As if the world wanted to do nothing but plague her indecision. When she rounded the corner, there was Bran, casually mopping the bowl of his soup with a stale piece of bread. 

No, indecision was going to harm her. In the long run, she had to resolve this now. "Good morning, Bran," she said, doing her best to stay frosty towards him. Even if some part of her wanted desperately, and she meant very desperately, to believe it was Bran, wrap him up in a hug and continue on with the life that she only vaguely remembered. She couldn't give the man any ground unless she was absolutely certain.

Her life was for Bran and Bran alone, to betray that was to be done with life.

"Morning, Simone," he said, comfortable enough with her that he didn't even look up.

She found herself slightly angry that he didn't look at her and that only confused her more. Why should she be angry about the fake Bran not looking at her? Perhaps it was a respect thing. Yes, that must be it. 

"I'm gonna ask you a few questions," Simone sat down and impromptu decided to quiz him. 

"Okay," Bran said after a brief hesitation. "Do I at least get to know the categories before the questions start?" 

"Given that you are pretending to be Bran, I thought it wise to keep you sharp and knowing by quizzing you on things that Bran has done in the past."

The man seemed uncaring, and he should care a great deal. If he messed up even once, the potential fallout amongst the rest of the Mul Branova could be catastrophic. 

"Did Bran ever want the Mul Branova?" Simone asked. 

"You're going to have to clarify the question." Bran didn't even so much as look up when she asked that one. "Did he want the Mul Branova?" Fake Bran mused. "I don't think he necessarily wanted the Mul Branova. I do think he wanted a force that he could use to stop the demon generals. However, the Mul Branova was all your idea, Simone." Then he paused and leaned back. "Though I do recall being fairly unwilling to use the crook. To initiate that early batch of Mul Branova. So, good question, hard answers. At least, not immediately easy to give you a straight one." 

Simone narrowed her eyes because Fake Bran had answered that one with a good amount of information that really only belonged to a small group of people. Also he spoke convincingly that he was Bran.

"Well, I suppose that was obvious," Simone said, playing it off. "But I think he liked them eventually when he started sleeping with all of the Mul Branova." Simone slipped in and Fake Bran choked on his breakfast. 

"He what? No, he didn't," Fake Bran refuted. 

"Of course he did," Simone lied with a straight face. "Do you think Bran wouldn't sleep with a bevy of women worshiping him?" 

"No," Fake Bran spat. "After using the crook, there was absolutely no way that I, I mean, Bran would sleep with women who were essentially under his control." The man in front of her made a disgusted face. 

"I mean, the control wasn't that absolute," Simone argued. 

"Absolute or not, how could Bran ever determine willingness? There's simply no way to draw the line between what is coercion and what is natural desire." 

Simone found herself leaning in, wondering and hoping, hoping for the first time since she had met this man, that he was the real Bran indeed. 

"And what are you absolutely not?" She asked, only for the man to look up, stare her in the eyes. 

"I swear to god, Simone, I am not a vampire."

She couldn't help it. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was too good to be true. Then again she had commented on his class, perhaps he was extrapolating from that.

"Though you wouldn't hear it," he continued. "Every time I said I wasn't a vampire, you countered me with something silly like, 'that's what a vampire would say.' And in fairness, I moved very quick, took bullets like they were nothing, and drank your blood. So I gave you quite a bit of leeway every time you called me a vampire, but no, I am still not nor will I ever be a vampire." 

The man couldn't hide the smirk from her, like he knew with absolute certainty he was answering these questions correctly. Though Simone was unsure how he would have those answers and the confidence behind them, well, unless of course he was actually Bran. Though she was still unwilling to admit that was the bare naked possibility set before her.

"You want to know something else?" Bran said, leaning forward across the table. Simone found herself matching his posture, leaning in as well.

"And what story do you have for me today?" 

Bran narrowed his eyes and leaned away. "Never mind. If you think these are all stories, maybe I should stop."

"Oh no, go ahead." Simone pretended to be indifferent, but on the inside, she was salivating for some morsel that could convince the skeptic within her that he was indeed her Bran.

"Well," Bran said slowly, "it hasn't been too long. But the curse is actually more on you than me. I guess you could say your faith in me, being broken by your mind, being emptied of everything related to me, is actually what's sapping my strength. What I really need is for you to believe in me once again, Simone." He leveled a long look at her. "Can you do that for me, Simone? Can you at least for a time believe that I'm your Bran? The one that actually... the one that once upon a time you trusted without a doubt, who made the Mul Branova. I swear, almost with the purpose to sexually frustrate me."

Simone couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corner of her lips before she flattened it in a flash and leaned away. "You almost had me," she said. "But certainly not why I formed the Mul Branova."

Bran held his hands up. "Didn't say it was, just said I could have sworn it. By the way, you kept marching the ladies around me. Sorry if I hit a nerve."

Simone scoffed and stood up. "You didn't hit a nerve. But for a moment I had my hopes up. That maybe you were Bran after all." Only for her eyes to grow sharp. "It seems hope almost made me gullible enough to believe it."

Simone marched out of the room, more frustrated now than ever, only to pass by a statue of Bran. Fake Bran had been right. The face was overly smooth, details worn away as if by wind or rain to the point that it was just a generic face.

Simone closed her eyes and tried to imagine, tried to feel with everything she had, just what his face should have looked like. Only for her to open her eyes and somewhere in all of that, the image that came to mind was the fake Bran. The idea upset her so much that she scoffed and moved away, lest she break the statue.