A quick oneshot before the fall of Altea, told from Elice's perspective. There are slight mentions of the OVA as well, but they are minor and dont require any knowledge from it.
Disclaimer:I do not own Fire Emblem or any of the characters. I don't own the anime episodes either.
It's second nature for older sisters to protect their younger brothers. That's why I always worried about Marth, even from a young age.
The women of Altea dedicated themselves to the holy staves of Naga, while the men became fighters, trained in the use of the sword. Marth wasn't built like the rest of them. He wasn't pure muscle like Father and the knights, he was much smaller.
Even so, he excelled in swordplay, his style much swifter and sharper than that of his peers. It was a little sad for me to see my baby brother being raised to kill, but Marth was always eager to learn something new, if perhaps he was still a bit naive at times.
He was... fragile isn't the word I'm looking for. But, he sure wasn't war material, I know that. Marth wasn't aggressive. He would fight if he had to, if he needed to defend himself, but I never once saw him initiate a fight. I prayed he would never have to go into battle.
When the message of war reached us, I prayed for Father, who left for the frontlines with the legendary Falchion. If anything happened to him, Marth would be our last hope. The only one who could take the throne, and the only one left who would be able to wield Falchion.
That thought was dreadful. I hoped for the sake of Altea that nothing happened to Father. Mother wouldn't be able to handle it, but she knew as well as I did that we would sacrifice anything for Marth's safety. It's what needed to be done.
Another thing I had noticed, when a young Altean boy came to visit the castle, was how little tolerance Marth had to magic. He would occasionally train with the boy, who was a fledgling wind mage, and always came out of the battle all battered and exhausted. Sometimes, since he was so quick, Marth could get the mage boy before he could land a blow with his magic. But other times, it was clear that magic was Marth's main weakness.
This bothered me. Not only because armies were incorporating mages by the thousands in this age and the school in Khadien was more popular than ever, but also because it became a nuance to heal him. The prince would always try and hide his obvious scrapes and bruises from me, and whenever I finally convinced him to let me help, he would always squirm and whine to the point that I almost wanted to stop, for fear of hurting him more.
If Marth would have to fight, and I hoped he wouldn't, he would need the blessing of holy Naga to make it. The boy wasn't built for battle, neither in physical nor mental state. I remember the time he couldn't bring himself to kill a wild animal in a hunt with our father. He was just too kindhearted and naive, and it was a shame the world wasn't the same.
When word of our father's death reached the castle, I prayed alongside my mother. We knew what had to be done. We knew where the soldiers would head next, so Mother penned a quick letter to our allies on the Talys islands, and I prepared myself for a noble sacrifice.
We kept the truth away from young Marth. He wouldn't handle it well. And if he were to become the next king of Altea, he would need to be brave.
With Mother handling loose political affairs, I readied my best staves and waited for the assault. They would strike at any time, and I wanted to be prepared. For the future of Altea, and perhaps, the world.
Because that's what older sisters do.
