Uprooted by War
By General Luigi
Author's Notes
This is the story of four characters I made up who end up traveling with Lord Hector on his campaign. In particular, I feel I should thank DARK MARTH from the forums at the Nintendo website for starting the thread that inspired me to start on this story. I will go through a game of Fire Emblem as this story is written, using my own experience in the game in the story; any Support-based loves in my game will be used, any deaths in my game will occur, and so on. The story begins shortly after Lundgren's death. Finally, as to the names, I use the same method the game uses—namely, naming characters and places after real-world geographical locations and opera characters.
Chapter 1—The Cad on Horseback
Igor was very glad he had remembered to wear his greatcoat; he had gone to the shop to purchase a new tome when a sudden downpour had started. Hopefully, the thick coat's layers would be enough to protect the tome's fragile pages from the elements. He noted that one of the downsides of using magic instead of weapons was that true mastery could not be gained through new techniques on the same item. Marina had plenty of ordinary items for her to improve her sword skills with, but magic did not work that way. Marina could use all sorts of moves with the same sword, but for each magic spell, one needed an entirely different tome. Even if one only cast Flux all one's life, one would still need to at least read higher-level tomes to improve one's skill.
Igor was clearly not from Caelin, even if he lived there. Of course, while both his son and daughter were born in Caelin, neither looked the part. Igor's rounded head made his Ilian descent quite obvious to those who knew what Ilians looked like. Of course, his dull blue hair was even more proof; he had yet to meet a native-born Ilian who had warm-colored hair. How he, an Ilian, had ended up in Caelin with a Sacaen wife was an odd story that very few actually believed. He said it was a result of Araphen Syndrome, but few knew what Araphen Syndrome was. The only part of Igor's story that was widely believed was that he was an Ilian with a Sacaen wife. If Marina lacked the angular jaw of a Sacaen and he the rounded face of an Ilian, he doubted that people would believe a thing about his past.
Travelers and newcomers always stared at Igor's greatcoat, mainly because such thick clothing—let alone black—was uncommon in a place like Caelin. Of course, they stared just as much (though for different reasons) at Marina's summer clothing. Initially, Igor was quite defensive about everyone staring so much at his wife, but after enough time, he grew used to it. An old Bern proverb went, "You can look at my wife all you want, but if you touch her, I will kill you." Now, Igor observed that philosophy rather than his older "Go stare at a life drawing, cad!" response. Looking back at the situation, he concluded that he would have probably stared just as much. He did not like the thought of staring so improperly at a lady, but he knew his own weaknesses; for the kind of magic he studied, one had to know one's weaknesses to avoid falling to the darkness.
Igor saw the familiar red roof of the shop and readied himself for another exchange with the shopkeeper. While he tolerated Volga's prejudice, he did not enjoy it by any means. In addition, he still had not forgiven her for the incident with that extremely expensive Fimbulvetr tome, and Xenia still held a vicious grudge against her. To make matters worse, Volga had made it quite clear that she would not even sell dark tomes were it not for Igor's business. One of the reasons why being a shaman was so difficult was the rotten rumors (some of which were undeniably true) surrounding dark magic. Still, Igor admitted he was quite lucky to have settled in a town with a good shop, even if Volga charged ridiculous prices for dark tomes. The issue of even convincing Volga to order the Nosferatu tome in the first place was quite a task. After hours of arguing, she finally consented (for 12,064 Gold in advance) to order the tome. If Volga did anything to damage the tome, Igor had a feeling he might prove why dark magic was so greatly hated by most people. Were it not for his family's success with the armory, Igor would have probably been working for that intolerable woman until even his pupils were blood-shot.
He opened the door and walked in, making a point of wiping his feet before going all the way in. There, with the familiar disgust on her face, was Volga. Volga was a somewhat plump woman (with the prices Igor paid, she had plenty to eat) who looked twenty years younger than she claimed to be, with the exception of her ragged grey hair. Otherwise, she looked around forty. Owning a magic and health shop had its advantages; even the healthiest Caelins rarely lived beyond fifty unless they had the health care of Lord Hausen himself. Thanks to Igor, Volga was always clothed in the best jewelry and dresses a peasant could afford. He despised the woman's monopolistic power over magic, and her tendency to flaunt her fortune whenever Igor was near only worsened his opinion of her. Dependence was not something Igor liked.
"Igor," the old woman said with her typical dislike of the dark arts.
"You said it had arrived yesterday, so I am here for it," Igor said with the same enthusiasm he had when he first shopped here. "By the way, what do you have in the anima department today?"
"Nothing your girl doesn't already have. Anyway, your tome did indeed arrive yesterday." Here came the worst part, the part when Volga would rummage noisily through her storage room and act as though she could barely grasp the tome. While dark tomes were certainly heavy, they were far from slippery. She did it just to get Igor worried about the tome being dropped or damaged, which was the reason why Xenia always cursed at Volga when she saw her, considering how she had "accidentally" dropped a rare Fimbulvetr tome into a puddle, ruining the ancient writing and disintegrating the pages, quickly making the puddle grow from Xenia's tears. Igor felt a wave of relief soak his body as he felt the rough cover of the Nosferatu tome enter his hands.
"Thank you, Volga," he said.
"Nice doing business with you," Volga said with enthusiasm false enough for a child to notice.
Igor yet again ignored Volga's hatred of him and placed the tome inside the pocket of his greatcoat, buttoned it up, and walked back into the rain. It was always a relief to have a tome delivered to him safely. Surely Volga would not hate him had he been a mage. Such was studying dark magic, though; one had to expect prejudice and mistreatment. He was quite thankful that the Djute tribe knew so little of magic, which meant that their prejudices were virtually nonexistent. Had there been such a prejudice, he doubted he would have ever met Marina. Also, at least his children did not hate dark magic. While Xenia did use anima magic, she had the utmost respect for Igor's preference.
So began Igor's walk back to the armory, which was, fortunately, not too far from the shop. While it was a tad embarrassing that he, a shaman, sold weapons, and even more embarrassing that Marina could lift the heavier weapons more easily, the armory, thanks to its constant business with the local knights and mercenaries, was essentially the only source of income large enough for Igor to afford Volga's outrageous prices while still having enough money to live comfortably. Knights were a common sight around the armory because of the castle being within riding distance, so it did not surprise him when he saw five cavaliers approaching the armory. The armory was one of the few two-story buildings large enough to stand alone, but about half of the first floor was the store. Igor arrived home just in time to greet the cavaliers.
"I would assume you are here for weapons," Igor said.
"Of course," one of the cavaliers responded. The man jumped off his horse in a somewhat swaggering manner. Looking at him, Igor assumed the fellow was in his very late teens or his early twenties. Noticing the green armor, Igor realized he was looking at the subcommander of the Caelin knights. He forgot the knight's name, but he had heard plenty about his involvement in Lundgren's overthrow.
"Right this way, sir," Igor said, leading the knights in after they tied up their horses.
Xenia was sitting in a chair, reading a magic theory book, which Igor promptly discovered was not the best place for her.
"Ah, such a lovely young maiden," the subcommander said, hastily approaching Xenia, who closed her book and looked over to see who was interrupting her. "Tell me, my charmer, what beautiful name was chosen for you?"
"Xenia," she replied without the slightest hint of interest. Igor noticed a "here we go again" look on the other knights' faces. "Is there something I may help you with, sir knight?"
"Merely seeing your lovely smile is enough for me, but I would greatly admire to spend more time with you."
"I appreciate the offer, but I am quite content."
"But I can make you even more content. Surely you will give me a chance."
"Excuse me," Igor cut in, "but I do believe there is the matter of the weapons you came for."
"Oh, yes, of course," said the subcommander, "but first I would like an opportunity to be with your beautiful daughter."
"Subcommander," one of the knights started, "Commander Kent will be quite displeased if he learns you flirted with another maiden."
"In the presence of Xenia's beauty, how can I resist?"
"It's pronounced 'Ksenia', not 'Gzenia'," Xenia said.
"Now I remember your name," Igor said. "Sain, the cad who flirted with Lady Lyndis the instant he saw her. I assure you, sir, that I would not want a man like you to have anything romantic to do with my daughter. Unless you can dedicate your love to only her, I will not allow you to bother her. Now, unless you have something to purchase, please leave us."
"Of course, of course," Sain said. "We were sent for ten iron lances, five steel lances, five slim lances, and five javelins."
Igor thought for a moment to do the calculations.
"10,250 Gold," Xenia said, beating her father to the total.
"Thank you, Xenia," Igor said.
"That much?" Sain asked.
"Yes; you did request a large amount of goods. Therefore, a high total would be no surprise."
"Very well." Sain took out a bag of gold coins, which Igor opened and counted carefully. Xenia went over to help.
"Everything appears to be in order," Igor said after a few minutes. "Your change is that small pile." Sain scooped up the remaining coins and put them in the bag. The knights set about getting the lances and promptly left the store.
"So, did Volga drop the tome?" Xenia asked.
"Oh, right. That issue with Sain made me forget." Igor reached into his greatcoat and, to his relief, took out a dry Nosferatu tome. "That Fimbulvetr tome had actually cost less."
"I just can't believe that witch dropped something so valuable out of spite. It's one thing to drop a Fire tome, or even a Thunder, but Fimbulvetr? That tome was one of the rarest tomes in the world, and Volga just went ahead and let it disintegrate!"
"That's Volga for you. She couldn't care less about the tome's rarity; as long as she gets her money, she's perfectly satisfied. I'm surprised she hasn't made fake tomes and passed them off as real."
"If she ever has that tome in stock again, I'll use it on her!"
"Please don't. After all, she's the only source of dark tomes in all of Caelin, and she knows that."
"Well, she's sixty," Marina said, coming in, "so even with all those medicines, she's bound to die soon."
"I should hope so," Xenia said. "I don't like the idea of people dying, but Volga's an exception."
"So, who was that you were raising your voice at?"
"Subcommander Sain," Igor said. "First Sister Serra gets Feodor lusting for her only to make a fool of him by revealing that she's a cleric, then Sain comes in and wastes no time trying to woo Xenia."
"So I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you got defensive. I still remember how annoyed you got when men stared at me during the summer."
"I suppose there is some similarity, but I have no intent to see a cad like Sain dishonor Xenia."
"Father, why would I want anything to do with him?" Xenia asked, offended.
"Sorry; I know you're smarter than to fall for him; it is just the fact that he tried in the first place that bothers me."
"She is part Sacaen," Marina said, "so I'm not surprised that men are lusting for her. I keep hearing bachelors talking about how beautiful Sacaen women are. Of course, Dame Florina has also given men reason to lust for Ilians. It is so humiliating to hear people talk about me and Xenia—and just women in general—as though we are just objects."
"Now do you understand why I am so defensive?" Igor asked. "There are plenty of deceivers out there, and not all of them are as open and foolish as Sain. Even prodigies can be fooled, and it is deception that so many men rely on these days."
Xenia gave that some thought, and Marina decided she was convinced. Igor went upstairs to start studying his new tome, careful to remove his muddy boots at the foot of the stairs. Sain had been the final proof that Xenia was no longer a child. Igor admitted that Xenia did not have all of the physical features most men preferred, but she was still attractive. Her face had the rounded cheeks of Igor's family, but also possessed the angular jaw so common in Sacaens. Igor thought that Xenia's face was the loveliest part of her, mainly because it had Marina's red eyes—a sort of red that came from burning sodium nitrate—as well as water-blue hair tied back in a tight bun. The thought got him wondering about Marina. Marina was by all means beautiful, and it worried Igor that he may have married for passion alone. Marina had the contours that made the vast majority of men forget where her face was. Of course, traditional Sacaen clothing often made it easy to notice the extremes of a woman's body, particularly the legs. Fortunately, Marina was too slender to have the large breasts so many young men desired in women. From her shoulders to her hips, Marina's structure was somewhat like that of a very narrow hourglass. However, anyone who judged Marina weak due to her skinny limbs often retracted their statement.
"No matter," he thought. "Even if it was just passion at first, I now honestly love her. Better now for me to focus on my studies; it would be foolish to buy such an expensive tome and not even read it." Igor sat down in the drawing room and opened the cover, instantly seeing the familiar text of the ancients that far outdated the Elimineans. Eliminean writing was always very appealing to the eye and would often occupy ornaments in the homes of nobles, even if the owners had no idea what the text meant. As for the ancient text, though, the writing focused more on legibility than beauty. Rather than calligraphy, Igor read the crude yet simple runic text used before Elimine's time.
Religion was a scary thing. Igor had nothing against Saint Elimine, but her followers changed her teachings into calls to arms. Under Archbishop Lancaster, the ancient customs disappeared, altars were ravaged and defiled, the sacred tomes stolen and burned. In fact, few took up the task of copying the remaining dark tomes as it was very tedious work, copying a tome word for word, rune for rune, but Igor had the utmost respect for their devotion to the preservation of ancient magic. Oddly enough, despite his fascination with dark magic, Igor had actually become good friends with Reverend Anadyr. While Igor and his family did not follow the religion following Saint Elimine, they still visited the clergy and learned about Elimine. Igor believed that Elimine's successors had warped her teachings to their own desires and therefore had never kissed the sacred tome. Similarly, neither had anyone else in his family.
Noticing that he was feeling warm, Igor realized he had not removed his greatcoat. Underneath, Igor's own body was revealed to be quite slender, though not as slender as Marina's. Looking at his tome again, Igor began to draw connections to the specific energies commanded and how their reaction would create the second most feared spell in existence. Nosferatu, the spell's namesake, supposedly sucked blood from his enemies to give himself strength, which explained why the spell named for him had a similar trait. The spell was not something to be toyed with, and it was possibly the most tempting spell to misuse. Killing was one thing, but harming others to heal oneself was a great temptation that had driven many shamans to madness. Such a spell would have to be used sparingly if Igor was to have any hope of controlling its evilly attractive powers.