It was almost better if Brom was in a prison cell alone.
Wasn't the point of prison designed to keep someone confined in solitary and drive them insane? Well, this Kieran was certainly speeding the process along. When they first met (or rather, when Kieran was thrown in, kicking and screaming) they had a mutual respect for each other, since they were both in the same predicament.
Now the knight was wishing he'd never met Kieran. Young'uns these days... Completely off their rockers. At least he'd raised his eight children to be fine, well-mannered young men and women.
Today, Kieran's face was set in grim determination. Very different from his energetic, usual self. Brom always asked this each day, and he didn't break with tradition today.
"What's gonna happen to us?" He asked. Then, for the first time, he added, "These Daein soldiers took away ma friends, and they didn't never return. What did they do to them?" He whimpered without meaning to. "Somethin' bad happened to them, I'm sure of it!"
"Keep quiet, fool. Keep your cowardly whimpers to yourself," Kieran hissed. Brom was a little offended; Kieran never spoke to him that way before. But soon, he was back to his normal bold tone. "It matters not what foul torture they devise. A true knight of sweet Crimea is bold, steadfast, and stalwart." He jumped up. "I care not if they yank off my nails with tongs or jab poisonous barbs into the flesh of my underbelly or pull-"
"Stop! Stop it!" Brom cried. "This again? You know that kind of talk makes me feel dizzy!" Even yelling this made him a little lightheaded.
"So are you not a soldier for our fair Crimea?"
"No! Well, yes, but... Listen, fella. I'm no professional. I'm just part of the militia!"
"Curses... If only there was a weapon for me of some sort... But never fear! I, Crimean Royal Knight, Fifth Platoon Captain Kieran, once defeated the Giant Pillbug with merely a fallen branch! Well, it was more of a pointed twig, really."
As with tradition, Kieran rambled on and on about his many heroic adventures. Brom couldn't help but feel discouraged each time he heard stories such as his. He was, by now, sure that his stories were fabricated. But he never bothered to said it out loud. He didn't want to ruin the fun for the axe knight. Anything to keep his cell mate's sanity, anyway.
Around this time of day, Brom would go to the back wall and start talking to the bricks. Perhaps he had lost his sanity. It was easier than talking to Kieran, at any rate.
The soldiers, along with their weapons and armor, took the stones. The very stones that his family presented him, as a reminder of what he was fighting for and a good luck charm. So he had to replace that with stone bricks on the wall. Like with the rocks, he named the bricks after his wife and eight children. A particularly large brick was dedicated to his stout, lovable wife. A pinkish-hued brick was named after Meg, his second oldest daughter. He even picked out a brick to represent the livestock.
He spoke to them softly, talking about his uneventful day or how much he loved and missed them. He would ask about the harvest and about town. At the end, he would always be near tears and even Kieran would quiet down. He would part with the inanimate bricks with, "So I hope y'all are doin' fine without me. I love y'all." or "I'm out here, doing the best I can. I'll be home soon, don't you worry!"
Brom one day noticed how Kieran never spoke of family or friends. In fact, he didn't ever seem to have had a trinket or knickknack to remind him of home. So when the knight asked, Kieran laughed and proclaimed that his comrade-in-arms was his family. But when Brom inquired further, Kieran's face darkened and curtly said that this was something extremely personal. He understood and never brought up the subject again. Likewise, he never saw him so serious again.
Until today. Well, no. This couldn't exactly be described as serious. It was... Concentration. What was Kieran focusing on?
Brom was certain he was imagining it, but it sounded like fighting as the very end of the corridor. Clangs of steel and the clacking of horse hooves seemed to resound through the hall.
Kieran stiffened. "My rival! He's here to rescue me! No! Never! Kieran shall never accept help from-!"
"Shh!" Brom hushed him, then realized how suspicious it must have looked. But still, he didn't want to think about any false hope.
The sounds of battle ceased, just as quickly as it began. But the clatter of hooves came closer. And closer.
A shady person silently and suddenly appeared at the door. His dark clothes blended well with the poorly lit dungeon. Was this the end? Were they to be executed or tortured? Brom didn't try to hide his fear. But the visitor simply pulled out something, fiddled with the lock, and disappeared just as silently as before. Brom couldn't breathe a sigh of relief just yet.
Moments later, a horse trotted by, carrying two people. Its rider pushed open the squeaky rusty door. Brom blinked. Were they real?
The blue haired man dismounted clumsily but quietly and approached Brom. He instinctively backed away. But the man noticed his discomfort and put away his sword.
"You're a Crimean soldier aren't you? We're here to rescue you!" He told him.
Brom was astounded. "R-really? I'm not dreaming, am I?"
He sighed. "I'm a mercenary working for Princess Elincia. I'll give all the details later. But right now, we have to go!"
"The princess! Happy day! Wait, let me stretch a little." Brom swung his arms and shook his legs a little. His back cracked. "Ooh, sorry, I'm still stiff."
Ike facepalmed. "Just... Ugh let's go!" He started walking back to the horse.
"Uh, o-okay... Wait a second. I don't remember the king having a daughter." Brom did have some trust in this stranger, but there was something not right...
"I said I'll explain later. Oscar, let's go!" The man said to the green haired rider, who was, unfortunately, still talking to Kieran.
"It's you!" Kieran kept shouting at the rider. Oscar was futilely trying to calm him down.
"Kieran, right? Listen, we have to go. You can settle your... Differences or whatever with me later. But we need to move!"
"Yes, I'm Kieran. The same one who has sworn to be your eternal rival!"
Poor Oscar was visibly taken aback. "Right... Kieran of the Royal Knights. So, uh, how have you been?"
Kieran scowled at him. "Your manner is listless, as always. It befits one who would call me foe!" Oscar was waving his hands and trying to shush him, but the red haired cavalier continued. "You were discharged from the Royal Knights three years ago... Why would you be here now?" Then Kieran gasped. "No! Unforgivable! You've gone over to Daein! Despicable! Have you no shame? You were my one true rival! How could you?"
"You got it all wrong! I'm a part of the mercenary company serving Princess Crimea! We're here to free any Crimean soldiers."
Now Kieran was taken aback. "The princess of Crimea?! He could you know about that?" Before the flustered Oscar could reply, he exclaimed, "AHA! I've discovered your scheme! Now that I'm gone, you hope to distinguish yourself by meritorious service and steal the glory that is rightfully mine! Admit it! Fiend! Curse your name! Curse the name of Oscar and all who call him friend! I shall never allow you to surpass me!" Forgetting that he was completely defenseless, Kieran bolted out of the room, all the while shouting, "Princess! I'm coming! Kieran has overcome Oscar and will forever be at your side!"
Oscar gave up and merely sighed. Brom chuckled aloud, sympathizing with Oscar. "Sorry 'bout that. He was acting even more excitable than usual."
"More than I remember," Oscar remarked. "Hard to believe he's actually a decent knight."
"Well, we can't leave him on his own. Let's go," Ike said. The three went in search for Kieran, but they didn't exactly have to strain to hear his bold shouts and track him down.
As they defeated the enemy commander, Ike ordered everyone to escape. But first, he allowed a brief five minutes for the prisoners to retrieve any of their weapons and belongings in the prison armory. Brom almost immediately found his large suit of armor and fished it out. He also handed a certain blue helmet he found to Nephenee.
"Y'know," he said to the country lass as he picked up his lance. "You're a very pretty and kind young woman. Don't be afraid of meeting other people!"
"Don't be silly, Brom," she replied nervously. "They'll just laugh at my country accent." She pocketed some vulneraries and hastily left with her iron lance and shield.
Brom shook his head and smiled. Then he froze. On an old shield sat his pouch of rocks! He scooped it up and peered inside. His jagged rocks and smooth pebbles were indeed waiting in there. Before he left, he whispered to them, "I'll be home any second now. I'll never lose hope again."