Olivier was just staring at the ground blankly but the heavy thuds of Bertrand’s footsteps seemed to rouse him from his musings, as he glanced upwards.

For a brief second Bertrand thought he caught a glimpse of a madness that surpassed Eudes flash by in the man's eyes, but it vanished from his mind the moment he heard Olivier speak.“Hail good brother, has the Seer brought solace to thy mind as it has to thine?”

Not only did he speak like someone over the age of eighty but he also spoke with such enthusiasm that Bertrand was completely taken off guard.

He didn’t know Olivier very well but he was pretty sure this wasn’t how they normally spoke. Unless they had changed their manner of speaking to fit in with everyone else.

“Uh, I’ve been good, I've been good.” Bertrand said after a little hesitation.

“I am gladdened to hear thee’s reply.” Olivier said with an unmoving smile etched firmly onto his face.

Bertrand almost recoiled at how foul of a smile it was.

If he wasn’t currently holding a hot bowl of soup he probably would have put one of his hands on his bayonet hilt.

Olivier just felt so unnatural for lack of a better term. Seer if it weren’t for the fact adaptors couldn't speak Bertrand would have started panicking, thinking one had taken on the form of his colleague.

“Thine bowl must boil like thee’s heart. Grantih ye a place by thy side.” Olivier said, while beckoning to his right.

It took all of Bertrand’s limited knowledge of plays to understand that the man wanted him to put his bowl by their side, or maybe they wanted him to stand next to them.

Opting to go for a comprise between the two options, Bertrand walked over and sat down against the wall. Setting the bowl down between his feet to cool off and act as a sort of foot warmer.

He seemed to have made the right choice as Olivier grinned at him, just like his smile though it seemed forced.

After a few moments of intense silence during which Olivier kept their eyes pinned on him, Bertrand felt ready to either walk away or start a fight.

He did neither though, poor Olivier was probably just suffering from a really nasty case of battle exhaustion and likely a head wound as well.

So he had to have a little compassion, even if they were acting incredibly weird and concerning.

After a few more awkward seconds he decides to ask the question he came over here for in the first place.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Where did you go after the ambush?”

“Thy ran to mine brothers sides, rendered aid and was in turn rendered unto the Seer’s will, thee grand lord saw fit to continue thy service and thus I was reborn.”

“Uh, right, right. So are you going to be doing a night shift today and you're just getting some food before sleeping or are you going to be on the day shift like me?”

“Thy will beith where there waits anguished souls, offering mine guidance.”

“I see, I see. Will you be hosting them all together in one of the barns or are you going to go from individual to individual?” Bertrand questioned, partly curious but mostly just wanting to keep the conversation going so that he didn’t end up having to deal with the awkward silence.

Though it only really seemed to be awkward for him, as Olivier looked to be completely unfazed by it.

“The burden of thy oaths command it, thee rhythm of two hearts be easiest to match, rather than conducting an orchestra.”

More fancy talk that could be summed up as him saying yes he would be doing this individually.

For the next twenty minutes, Bertrand bore with their company.

He didn’t want to stay but he also didn’t want to be rude and he certainly didn’t want to have to endure another intense silence.

So he kept up the conversation, dutifully trying his hardest to follow Olivier’s words and understand what it was they were saying.

He had little success though, and when he was finally done with his bowl of soup and ready to leave he had little idea of what topic Olivier was even talking about now.

His main contributions to this one sided conversation had been “hmmmm” and “I see.” which was thankfully enough to satisfy the zealous man.

Bertrand had already thought the man was a fanatic previously but it was only now he realised how wrong he had been.

It was faint so he hadn’t noticed it at first but Olivier had countless faint marks all over his neck and over his forehead that looked suspiciously like religious symbols.

Not only that, but as their conversation progressed the only words Bertrand was soon able to reliably identify was Seer.

It was a word that Olivier seemed to use every sentence at bare minimum.

If at this point in time Olivier wasn’t the most religious man in Francia Bertrand would be very surprised.

Thankfully he now had an empty bowl he could use as an excuse to leave, that wouldn’t be enough though so he decided he would have to go to his post earlier than normal.

Biding his time he waited for Olivier to pause in his monologue to take a breath before saying farewell.

After what seemed like a solid minute Olivier finally stopped their ranting and raving about the glory of the Seer’s plans to take in a deep breath and that was when Bertrand sprang into action, taking advanced of this temporary lapse in the conversation to say good bye to the zealous man.

“As pleasant as this conversation is, duty calls. Good luck on your preaching Olivier, I firmly believe you will succeed in reigniting our passion.”

Then hurriedly rising to his feet Bertrand set off towards the cooking pot, turning back after a few yards to give Olivier a goodbye wave as he heard them say “farewell.” behind him.

Arriving at the cooking pot he placed his dirty bowl beside the other used ones, before heading off out of the town square.

He didn’t really feel safe walking alone but it wasn’t like he was going over to the walls.

Instead of that, he was going to go to the command section of the town where their important supplies and personnel resided.