game transcriptions

[sabigoe]

To be updated and made prettier later. I'll add screenshots later too as proof, lol. Sorry I can't HTML...

Going to try add stuff that isn't accessible on the current Wiki since I'm actively playing the game...

!! Be mindful of the content warnings: It's the DrakeNieR series and one of the taglines for Rein's setting is "The Cage where sin sleeps," so expect a lot of depressing stories about humanity. Death, murder, classism, child death, abuse is prevalent in Fio's stories.

MAIN STORY under construction. to include map banter and dialogue choices

CHARACTER STORY Short story about Fio and a Noble girl

DARK MEMORY Story about Fio's dream of her biological mother

COSTUMES AND WEAPON STORIES under construction because she has too many costumes/weapons...

EVENT STORIES

■ Record: Garden of Benediction Fio's Birthday Story
■ Record: Chamber of Prayer About the day her family was cast down to the lowest class

CARD STORIES

■ Anecdote: Stars

HIDDEN STORIES

■ No.01 Ch.1 Warm Hands
■ No.02 Ch.2 What Shines
■ No.03 Ch.3 Cries of Flowers
■ No.04 Ch.4 Kindly Child
■ No.05 Angelic Sacrifice
■ No.06 REPORT CARD
■ No.07 A Gift from Mommy and Daddy
■ No.08 Regarding the New Caste System
■ No.09 What the Monster Saw
■ No.10

MEMOIR STORIES background information on Fio's social class, the lowest of the caste system

SINOALICE COLLABORATION STORY

ABOUT THE CAGE this page is already heavy with information so this goes to a separate journal entry...

Comments

Rainy Winter, Sleeping Princess Part 4

[sabigoe]

"How long are you planning to sleep, child!? Get up already!" The woman throws the bedroom door open. Her daughter, who usually wakes up on her own, has slept late into the morning today. She stomps over to her tiny bed.

"Come now, get up. I need you to fetch the bread again."
The woman throws back the blanket on the bed to reveal the girl lying there languidly, her face red.

"M-Mommy... I think I'm sick..." croaks the girl.
"I'm cold and hot all at once...and I c-can't move..."

Her mother places a hand on her forehead. She is burning up. The woman immediately recalls how she sent her out in the sleet the previous day to fetch their food. Then she emits a small sigh and pulls the blanket back in place.

"Well then, never mind the bread. You just rest."
"Th-thank you, Mommy..."

As the woman gets up and makes to leave, the girl calls out to her weakly.

"Well?" says the woman.
"What is it?"
"I wanna slurpy apple," replies the girl in a pitiful voice.
"Is that okay?"

The woman stares at the child in the blanket. She never asks for things, she thinks. Without a word, the woman closes the door behind her. And to request slurpy apple—a grated fruit treat she used to make her when she was small—is even stranger.

She walks into the living room to find her husband peeling off his coat, still damp from his turn on the watch.

"Raining again," he says.
"Awful stuff."

The woman places a bowl of warm soup on the table. Her husband peers down at it, clearly disappointed, but she chooses to overlook this. With a small sigh, he digs into his meager meal. But after a few moments, he suddenly puts the spoon down.

"Hey, how's the kid?"
"Feverish. I'm letting her rest today."
"I swear, that child is next to useless."

The woman sits opposite her husband and plucks an apple off the table.

"She came home soaked after her errands yesterday—probably what made her ill."
She picks up a small knife and begins peeling the fruit.

"You sent her out in that?" says her husband.
"Hells, the other guards won't even leave the barracks when it's coming down so."

The woman stops peeling and glares at her husband.

"Oh, so now I'm a magician who knows exactly when the rain is going to start and stop?"
Her husband wisely turns his attention back to his soup. The woman returns to her peeling.

"You know, she's not a bad kid," he says finally.
"You don't have to be so cold to her."
"Honestly, sometimes I feel like she's...wasted on us."

The peeled apple skin curls into a neat pile on the table.
"You're right there," she replies.
"Why, if she had our genes, she'd grow up to be a frightful beast just like us!"

The man looks down at his bowl again; silence was always his retreat when things weren't going his way. The woman picks up the empty soup bowl, takes it to the kitchen, and returns with a grater. She slides the apple against it, creating a harsh rasp.

"You know I hate it when she rubs our differences in my face."
The sound of the apple on the grater hangs heavy in the air.

"It's almost her birthday," says the husband. He stares out the window as he talks.
The rain is coming down harder, turning into sleet.

"I mean, not like we know exactly when she was born..."
"But we found her on a cold, rainy day much like this one."

The grating slows as the apple is worn down to nothing.

"She's starting to look like her mother," says the woman after a long pause.
"Won't be long until she realizes she don't look like us at all."
"Aye, that woman was a great beauty indeed."

The woman glares at her husband again, but says nothing. Instead, she gets up and tosses the apple core into the sink. With the bowl of grated apple in hand, she returns to the girl's room.

Her face is still red, but she is at least sleeping. Pity this poor thing ending up with us when she could have lived a good, free life as a Noble. The woman reaches out to touch the girl's cheek, but stops. Instead, she places the bowl on the nightstand and leaves. The girl is beginning to realize she is not their true daughter. And yet, she does all she can to earn their love. But her looks aren't the only thing that set her apart: there is also her purity, her honesty, and her bravery. The beauty of her very spirit tells the couple how different she is.... Perhaps they made a mistake taking her in that day. The apple sitting beside the girl begins to brown. It grows darker still. Uglier. Horrid. But the girl notices nothing in her deep, deep sleep.