A glorious light descended upon the battlefield.
This is it, our finest hour.
Broken bodies renewed, amongst a sea of Grimleal. There were no trees, no hills, no cover; just the barren back of a scaled beast. In truth, the situation looked hopeless. There were about ten Grimleal for every Shepard that stood in our ragged formation. With nothing to tilt the battlefield in our favor, what was the use of a tactician? All we had were the bonds amongst ourselves, and even that was transient. Deep down in our hearts we probably knew, most of us were not coming out alive. Yet upon the grim faces of each Shepard held hope. Hope for the future, hope for the dream of tomorrow, hope against the grim future. Hope that, for every body that we threw against the tide of fate, we could change its course.
There is nothing left, no other recourse.
Beside me, Chrom smiled.
"Isn't that face a little too desperate for our finest tactician?"
"Nothing desperate in it; at the end of it all, it is we who will decide when we draw our last breath."
I knew that was a lie though; an arrow to the heart, a blade to the throat, our human bodies were simply fragile. Without steel encasing our bodies, or finesse protecting our selves, we were but a leaf falling into the flame. Yet I felt protected, safe even, by the bonds that held fast. The very bonds that broke Grima's spell, and enamored me to my dearest wife and children. The same bonds allowed me to trust every man and woman in this tight circle, knowing that time would not part us. And that very bond pushed me to believe that their future was worth it in the end.
Their futures were mine to grasp, and mine to shatter.
" … "
The weight of his gaze rested upon my back. His silence, I chose not to respond to. I knew what he would have said, and it would not have mattered; my mind was made. A thousand years of peace is trivial compared to eternal peace. Even if we humans were not around to see it, I would never damn Tiki to bear witness to Grima again. Not Nah, who braved time itself to change her future and finally got to meet her mother.
"Chrom, we both know which of us should land the final blow." I started.
"As do we all. No friend of mine sacrifices himself this day!"
I wanted to protest, but he cut me off. "Shepards! We now stand on the back of Grima, where no man has gone. We have stood against destiny itself, who would have had us all killed. And I would find myself wanting if I were to not stand beside our tactician, who has led us here. Today, with borrowed power from our futures, from Naga herself, we will stand together and face the fell dragon!"
In resignation to his rally, I could not help but smile. True, I would find myself wanting too if I were not with this band of people today. There was nowhere else I would rather have been. Yet to hear it proclaimed so confidently makes my heart swell with pride. He turned to me, smiling.
"We're all right here by your side! So lead us, one final battle together, so we may all grow old and gray together!"
As I always hoped it to be, was it theirs, or ours together?
I wanted to be a part of them, to be given a place to call home. To see my two daughters grow up in a future free from war. How carelessly had I thought of dismissing it, to ensure that they all survived to enjoy it, yet never seeing myself in that future I wished to create? I found love, trust and belonging, where I would have otherwise been lost.
No, we are stronger together, where we all wish to be together.
But it would not last.
The Grimleal started charging. After all, we were intruding on their master's back. Yet I felt a sense of peace, beyond the normal measure of calm that rose in a battle.
"Kjelle, Basilio, Flavia, Kellam, Nah, left flank! Stall the charge!"
Hold a single side completely still, form a human wall. Create your own battlefield.
"Say'ri, Yarne, Nowi, Panne, Lon'qu, right flank! Push out!"
Create space and distance, open up movement, progression.
"Fredrick, Stahl, Sully! Push forward! Chrom, Lucina, Donnel, Inigo, Owain, rush into the gaps they create!"
Where our target stays in reach, we inch ever closer.
"Cordelia, Sumia, Cherche, Cynthia, Gerome, up to the air! Make sure their fliers don't pick us off!"
The first bolts of magic started flying. Whoever it was aimed at, no one could tell. The brilliant flares they created masked their own deadly potential; a danger only rivalled by the arrows that flew alongside them.
"Vaike, Libra, Gregor! Keep our rear safe!"
And never forsake those who have given up for your cause.
"The rest of you, fighters to the front, mages to the back! Forward movement!"
The army marches forward, determination.
"… ARROGANT MORTALS… I AM DESPAIR!"
The two sides clashed. Steel struggles against strength, and magic vies against willpower. Neither side backing down, the bells for our finest hour has rung.
In this world not everyone is created equal. No matter how hard one trains, there is a difference in talent that is hard to surpass. Indeed, not everyone is born to fight. Some might find themselves suited to practicing the arcane arts. Others might find opening chests and hearts simpler. To make everyone's abilities work in unison is the mark of an effective tactician. Watching the Shepards fight, however, begs a different opinion. The Shepards were fighting as a whole. Chrom would parry a blow meant for Lucina and flow into another motion to cut down the Hero Donnel is struggling with. Sumia would throw a lance into the heart of an enemy Swordmaster harrying Panne, then landing behind her to quickly patch up open wounds while Nowi sweeps her tail to batter the enemy away. One might attribute it to instinct, after years of battling Risen, Plegia and Valm, that has been sharpened to a razor's edge. Regardless, that leaves very little for a tactician to do. The battle was going as expected though; even if the Shepards were significantly better trained that the Grimleal they were facing, their fanaticism and numbers left them with bravery beyond measure. Their eyes shone with barbaric delight, as if their sole purpose in life was servitude onto Grima, which they threw their lives for in careless abandon. Overwhelming numbers threatened the formation the Shepards took.
"We can't go on like this! There's just too many!" Sumia gasped, desperately channeling her mana through her Heal staff.
I grimaced. The Shepards consisted of but thirty-odd people. Fighting a seemingly endless horde and a dragon on top of that would be taking off more than they could chew. The battlefield would need to change again.
"Tharja, do you still have that Mire tome?"
She nodded, "I do."
"Cast it on that Bow Knight in the middle there." I pointed at the horde ahead of Nowi.
She looked at me quizzically, but started her incantation. Mire would take some time to cast, but caused a caustic sludge to appear over its target. Unfortunately, it was only able to target a single enemy, and had to be cast from a long range. That is where Henry comes in.
"Henry! As soon as Tharja's Mire goes off, hit it with a Valflame!"
"Aha! You want to CAWse an explosion do you?"
"Yes, so please synchronize the timing well."
Henry grinned and started chanting, Valflame tome flapping its pages wildly. Combination attacks are, in theory, effective to pull off. However, depending on the effectiveness of the spell cast, they could sometimes end up with very dismal results. This was because spells are channeled through a tome from the user's mana pool, which could easily vary amongst humans. Even the emotional state of the caster could affect the spell cast.
"We're taking a beating here!" Kjelle yelled. "The line isn't going to hold for much longer!"
With that many Grimleal bearing down on them, it's already amazing that the line held. Kjelle's armor was dented in many places, scarred in others. Flavia's face showed her usual jovial laugh that she wore in combat, but the matted hair and slowing movement made it obvious she was tiring. Basillio just kept hacking and slashing, a seemingly indomitable tower of a man, but the blood and sweat streaking down his body betrayed him. He would be falling over soon. And Kellam was nowhere to be found. All around, the battle was wearing on, Grimleal piling on the back of their master, who stood impassively, watching it all. Grima's eyes bore no worry; as if he could just flip over and be done with the bugs on its back.
Your enemies are willing to die for their beliefs. But are you?
A blade flashed across my line of vision. Instinctively, my blade flew up to parry the blow. Locking blades with my assailant, I glared into his eyes, only to find the same grim determination to defeat me, to die for his cause. My resolve wavered as he applied more force into the lock, bearing down with everything he had. How was he so willing to give everything, to die for a master that didn't care for him? His glare intensified, throwing everything he had into pressing my blade down. Any moment now he would feint and throw a horizontal slash at me. The logical part of me could see that, but my resolve, wrought by confusion, left me rigid. His eyes narrowed, ready to act again, as a gust of wind smashed into him, throwing him aside.
"Father! What's wrong? Don't space out in a battle!" Morgan rushed over, worried as Inigo leapt into the fray ahead of me. The cavalry must be having trouble if Inigo can leap in this easily.
"It's... nothing. Just wondering what the Grimleal sees in their master." An obvious diversion, but close to the truth.
Morgan pouted, unsatisfied. "Mother always said you are a poor liar. It's obvious from your face!"
This girl. She can pout at her father about lying in the middle of a battlefield. As I opened my mouth to reply, however, a huge explosion rocked the right side of the Grimleal. Screams of agony came soon after. Tharja and Henry must have succeeded in their combination spell. That was our chance, a single, huge gap in the enemy's forces. Lon'qu and Say'ri were already rushing into the gap, stabbing the Grimleal writhing in agony. Yarne looked on, disgusted. Panne, now healed, simply ignored those afflicted by the spell and went after other living targets.
"Tank line! Backwards movement! Laurent, Miriel, cover them!"
Pull back the wall, reduce the number of fronts.
"Owain, Gaius, Severa, Sumia! Clear out the right!"
This leaves our formation's back to Grima's right wing, where the Grimleal were blasted by the explosion. A simple strategy: Put your back to a wall.
"Main force, into the gap! Wounded in the middle!"
Remember the fallen, save the living.
"...YOU COWER... AT THE BRINK OF DEATH! DIE!"
Unfortunately, that leaves us with little room to turn. A huge wave of spikes split out of the ground, impaling even the Grimleal as it approached us. Fortunately, Lissa and Libra, who were slower on foot, Rescued those in the spikes' path. Our formation stood, we were safe for a spell.
"Has Grima no need for his troops, killing them off along with us? He believes himself able to defeat us without them?" Cordelia gasped. Her armor showed only minor scratches, though the same could not be said for her mount, wing impaled. Her timing, however, was immaculate. Our formation was now like a pie split in half, and after the beating we were taking it was clear the battle was not going to last much longer. Frederick and Sully up in the front were faltering, with Stahl flagging behind. Grima had yet to move. With those wounded from battle so far, we weren't going to make it if everyone was to push to Grima together. Lissa looked ready to fall over from exhaustion, and Maribelle even had to loan her horse to Cynthia, who had also crashed onto the dragon's back. The number of fliers was much fewer, however, with Gerome and Cherche fending off what looked like the last of the enemy Wyvern Lords.
"Morgan, take charge of the defense. I'll be borrowing Chrom and Lucina."
"Father! If you go to Grima with so few you'll be surrounded!" Morgan retorted quickly, worry evident on her face.
"I'll be going with him Morgan, we'll make it back. Your sister still wants my desserts tonight."
Unwilling as I was to take any more on this suicidal charge, I needed both Falchions to make it to Grima. An extra blade would make it significantly easier, and Morgan would never have let me run off alone. Morgan is a smart child, even with her mother coming along, frustration was still evident on her face. She knew our chances were very slim.
"If you must, take Libra and Nah as well! Libra can fight and heal you, and Nah's breath and size will give you space to work with!"
"Libra is over there ensuring that Vaike's guts do not spill out of his stomach, Morgan, and Nah's busy covering Kjelle as well. If they came with me, your formation would collapse from the left due to a lack of able fighters. And no, Kellam's already missing, the Khans are barely holding the line, and Sumia is already fully on healing the injured. There is no one to spare."
Before she could say any more, I quickly patted her head and ran off towards Chrom. I felt her reluctant gaze as it continued to bear my back, but there was little choice. Total defeat means the defeat of mankind, the future that we fought so desperately to avoid. That future must not happen.
"You know she'll just come up with another way to send someone after us?" Cordelia started.
I knew that. Young Morgan, while still beginning to grasp at the idea of a tactician, is intellectually bright as a roaring fire on a moonless night. As a father, I refuse to have her potential dashed because of her parent's war. With that resolution, I approached Chrom, who was facing off another enemy Hero. Even after so many battles together, Chrom's sword style never ceased to amaze. A combination of reckless strength and raw tenacity, he simply forgoes the enemy's retaliation and swings every attack like his life depended on it. Lucina in comparison, held a calmer, sharper stance. Every attack had the accuracy of a Sniper, with an eternally sharp blade. Mystifying that the same blade could be wielded in such significantly different styles and still fit perfectly. My forged Brave Sword was not so amazing, just much lighter that a normal blade, allowing me to swing much faster than ordinary blades. Behind me, Cordelia kept a spare Spear on her back, opting to carry a heavier Silver Lance.
"Chrom, we need to clear our way to Grima! Follow to where Frederick pushed to, and push to Grima from there!"
Chrom nodded in affirmation as he parried another incoming blow. I filled in to his left, keeping a Berserker off him. We were having trouble holding our ground though, much less pushing to where Frederick was being overwhelmed. Stahl had already fallen of his horse, lone horse rearing up against a spear pointed at it. The Berserker swung his axe vertically down upon me. Parry the axe, slide it off to the side. Flip blade upward, a quick overhead slash. His reactions were fast as well, throwing the grip of his axe over his head, essentially blocking my cut at the expense of his handle. Before he could act again, a silver flash flew in from my side, impaling the Berserker with enough force to pierce right through him.
"I gotcha!"
"Nicely done."
Even in the middle of a battle, her crimson hair struck me as nothing but beautiful. The way it fluttered as she fought was both distracting and enthralling, lowering my awareness of the enemy and yet making me want to fight harder. A crazy idea, yet when placed beside her impossible skill with the spear, I knew I could trust myself to leave my back to her, for the better and worse. As Cordelia pulled her lance back out, huge blades of wind tore into the Grimleal ranks ahead of us, splitting some into pieces.
"Don't look down on me!" Ricken yelled as he chanted another Excalibur incantation. While I would normally chide him for using such powerful spells back-to-back, his actions created a chance that we were sorely hurting for. Silently thanking the young mage, I rushed into the gap; Chrom, Cordelia and Lucina close behind.
Many of the physical classes did not have the resistance to magic that came from studying magic, and were torn apart by the Excalibur. Those who remained fell quickly to our swords and spear, spurred on by following the force of the gale. Excalibur is a really powerful spell; leaving behind small tufts of wind in its aftermath. I took this chance to steal another glance at my wife as she fought, blowing away those who opposed her like she was fury incarnate, a violent tempest of crimson. As I fought forward again, another great gust of wind blades tore past us at the enemies ahead. That would be the second Excalibur spell Ricken has cast back to back; the boy should be exhausted after considering we fought our way through Origin Peak to end up here. Glancing back, I could see Morgan pointing toward the skies, and Ricken tiredly nodding in what passed as an affirmative. So she decided to help without sending anyone after all.
Should you not be focused on your job as well?
After another minute or two of fighting and pushing, we arrived where Grima stood annoyed ahead of us.
In all the battles in my life, I've felt rage, sorrow, serenity and a cocktail of emotions when I met the commander of the enemy. However, I've never met myself commanding my own enemy, except in the mirror and on practice chessboards. Staring at Grima who took on my image, I felt nothing but complete revulsion. It felt like looking at the complete opposite of what you have become, as if it was some fel mirror who spoke nothing but lies; I wanted to puke. Even more frustrating was the knowledge that it was stronger and tougher than myself. Glancing at the others with me, Cordelia wore on her face nothing but aversion for the abomination that stood ahead of her. Lucina kept her natural stone-cold gaze, though contempt was reeking from her gaze more than usual. As we approached, Chrom raised his blade.
"I come to end you, Grima!"
"…INSOLENT MORTAL… I AM THE END!"
Disgust faded into fear as I haphazardly planned how to defeat him. His previous Earth Spikes that decimated a line of his own army hardly seemed to tire him. With such a vast difference in strength, even with a way to kill him for good, what use would it be if the blow could not connect? The four of us, bodies ragged from the constant fighting, against this persona of myself, who stood with a dark, regal aura, power overflowing from his body. A lesser man might even think himself standing before his rightful god. In light of such a helpless situation, what are we but ants beneath the heel of his boot?
"Don't make that face, you'll make us worry." Cordelia whispered. "He may be more powerful than any of us, but he is alone. We may be more powerful combined than him yet."
I tried to smile. Whether that came off lame or otherwise, I didn't care. He was physically and magically much more powerful than the four of us, to the extent that he could probably kill us with a flick of his wrist. I would refuse every chance he had to kill me to keep the promise I made to the woman standing beside me. Concentrating hard, time seemed to slow, if only for a little. His hand began to move, mana surging around him. The ground seemed to tremble a tiny movement, the very air vibrating. Then he thrust his palm out, dark light surging towards me. It was all I could do to throw myself to the side, knocking into Cordelia. A huge roar, black energy surged past where I once stood. But there was no time to lose; Chrom already began charging, Lucina hot on his heels.
As I pulled Cordelia up to join the fray, Chrom and Lucina put up an impressive display fighting Grima. Falchion would glance off Grima's wrist while Parallel Falchion would sneak under his arm and graze his torso. The clash of metal rang out as it bit into dragonskin, both refusing to yield. Grima would perfectly parry or dodge every hit with his arms, thrusting them out with blinding speed. Casting a weak Wind spell around the combatants, accelerating their movements, I began to flank Grima. There was only so much space from his front, and he seems impervious to standard steel.
Cordelia joined the front, supporting the two Exalts as they blocked and dodged Grima's blows, counterattacking when there was the slightest chance. As Cordelia thrust her spear, Grima dodged out of the way to lean onto Lucina's blade, while catching Chrom's blade with his free hands. Cordelia and Lucina then redoubled their swings, catching Grima in a pincer slash. Chrom withdrew his blade and thrust again. Grima parried Chrom's thrust with his hands, stumbling backwards as he fell low and swept his leg out to trip Lucina. Bounding forward, Grima then punched Cordelia in the breastplate and caught Chrom's blade again with his hands. The creaking of the Exalt's blade against Grima's hands showed how much strength they put into the lock as they tried to gain an edge over the other. After a brief moment, Grima threw his weight into the lock, and knocked Chrom back. Recovering, Lucina swung a wide horizontal slash, which Grima caught easily with his right arm. Cordelia thrust her spear up into his right armpit, while Chrom threw his blade against Grima's left. To say that Grima's back was wide open was an understatement. He barely noticed me at all. That gives me ample time to cast from the Book of Naga we found atop Mount Prism.
A minute passed. As one who was connected to the dark dragon, I had some difficulty channeling mana into the book, and as such the pages flipped slowly. The fight against Grima in person was getting desperate, Lucina quickly running out of strength to block Grima's heavy blows while Cordelia found trouble using her spear at a speed to match Grima while not knocking over her allies. Chrom was desperately parrying away Grima's punches. The incantation circle draw ancient words of power around myself, something regular tomes did not. The seconds ticked by, and with every second Falchion staggered under the weight of the fists pounding upon it. Another second ticked by, Cordelia's spear was flicked away like an annoying fly by Grima's wrist; Lucina's Parallel Falchion was dimming as its power flowed into its user, trying to heal its user.
I could wait no longer; the three of them were completely being outmatched in terms of strength, only martial prowess keeping them in the fight. I thrust my palm at Grima, willing the power to strike where he was. Feeling the spell succeed, I drained out every ounce of my being, channeling it all into the spell that would give us a turnabout in the fight. As the spell began to manifest, Cordelia, who noticed the power surge behind Grima, broke into the fray between Grima and Chrom with her body, grabbing Chrom to the ground. Grima turned around, finally having noticed the spell form the Book of Naga complete. His eyes widened.
A huge radiant flare exploded where Grima stood, blinding the battlefield temporarily. The blaze was not as much hot as it was warm, a great feeling of warmth that threatened to envelop you within its bounds, bathing you in its radiance. Yet Grima, in the midst of the blaze, struggled to stay standing. He flailed about as if on fire, screaming. The fel dragon shrieked as well, a ear piercing roar that Lucina once described as "the roar that heralds man's doom, stymieing out all life." I gazed on at what once appeared to be an invincible copy of myself, as a shadow stood up and approached it. Step by step, walking towards Grima in the cover of the radiant flare. In the light of the spell, I could only see a shadow wielding Falchion. A shadow which stood tall, as if defiant against the being before it, yet quivering in sorrow. Falchion swung down, cutting into Grima.
"Sleep for eternity, and never bother mankind again."
I felt my consciousness begin to fade as I thought of Cordelia, Morgan and Severa once more.
I'm sorry, I won't be there to watch you grow up, grow old and gray with..
A/N: This is how I do this right? Posting work for a first time, trepidation!
Afew things I want to note before moving on to the next chapter, I hope this one wasn't too long! (And thanks for reading it this far!)
- This game calls it's spears lances, which makes it hard to write. Considering to call them Silver Spears and such. Introducing other weapons maybe?
- I seem to have some trouble writing fighting action, and will practice on that as I go along.
Thank you for reading thus far, and do review so I may get better!