A Tactician's Lament
I, The Blundering Writer, do not own Fire Emblem. I would like to though.
Lyndis...No, Lyn. I have always thought that name suited her better.
It has been a while since I have seen all of them, Lyndis's Mercenaries, Eliwood's band of warriors. I wish that I could travel back to those days, where I would see her smile again...But I made this choice to go away myself, go to the Plains that she loves so much, in hopes that maybe she would miss them, and travel there.
Last I heard, she was being courted to Eliwood. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had led his forces wrongly. Would I have the courage to lead a man to his death? WOuld I have had the courage to send my group knowingly to their doom?
No, I couldn't. I did not have the courage to kill, unlike the troops that I have led into battle. So I have led him and his forces truthfully, taking great pains to keep all of them alive. I know that a small part of me still regrets that.
I wasn't one of the fighters, nor am I a hero, but I still wish I was remembered by all. I wish I could have fought, maybe then I would have had a chance. I wished to protect, with my own two hands.
They made me feel special, but I felt like they were trying to humor me, trying to lessen the fall back into obscurity. To me, it was only made worse. I would have rather they treated me with indifference, instead of like something I have lost long ago; Family. To them, we would have stayed together, I would have taken care of their children, maybe have a few of my own...Lead the occasional battle...But I knew better.
I was useless, obsolete. A tactician was a luxury that many people take for granted. The people respected a noble that could fight and plan at the same time, not one that had someone do the thinking for them. So I asked for one last favor from Merlinus, the merchant, and I bought
myself a wagon and tent. I was leaving Lycia.
I did not say good-bye. It would have been too painful for me to have faced them. A useless formality, as I have never seen anyone visit. It was like they have forgotten me.
I live alone, even far from the wandering villages of Sacrae. I do not want to be a tactician anymore, I never came to my final destination of the Tactician's Guild.
What use is a tactician that would not even lead troops? I laugh at myself whenever I think about it. Tactics were my life, I would stay up at all hours to study tactics long almost forgotten, taking them into my head.
It was all I had. My family had cast me out when I showed signs of deviating from what they had expected of me. I was to follow in my father's footsteps and become a merchant, one that would lead to fortune. I had chosen tactician instead, the only-born son among sisters. I hadn't regretted it until I moved out of Lycia.
I now live in obscurity, alone out in the fields that I had thought so beautiful. I feel empty, unfulfilled.
Alone, and the wind echoes my thoughts.
News comes slowly in the plains, though I don't normally speak much. I had been restocking on my provisions, when I heard. Lyn of Caelin and Eliwood of Pherae were to be wed. I paid for my supplies, and left.
I hardly felt anything at the news, it was almost as if I had already expected it long ago. I knew that she was untouchable by the likes of me, a thrown-away, obsolete, thing of a cast-out merchant child. It would have been nice to be in the know though, even though I knew that I was asking for something almost completely impossible. I knew that I would never have caught her serious affections. I was more like a brother, a family friend, to her. It would have been nice to see the wedding though. I bet it would be a grand spectacle...
My solitary life had been broken.
I was taken out of my shell of a tent by a young girl, searching for a wise sage that could heal her father. While I knew that the adults of the Plains knew that I had no mystical powers, the younger generation believed that I knew something.
I guess in a way, they were right. Just not in healing.
The girl shyly, but quickly runs inside my tent, and drags me away by the sleeve, chattering quickly, obviously with nervousness and urgency.
"Please," she begs, "please save my daddy!" As she drags me to her tribe's gathering, I take a better look at her. She was obviously younger than I was, around seven years old, and her skin was slightly tanned. She had dark blue hair that came down to her shoulders, and dark green eyes that were reddening with tears shed and to be shed. She wore a bright red cloak, underneath was a teal dress with a red trim on the skirt. I would have thought her a strange sight if I didn't know better. She takes me to a gathering of tents around two day's distance from my tent.
She brings me into a tent, and pointed to her father. He was lying there on a cat with a large gash across his chest. His form was gasping for air, making deep, rasping noises. The girl urged me to do something, but I knew that I could do nothing. The only thing I had was a vial of elixir, saved from a time ago. I gave the man the whole three doses, in hopes that I may help ease the pain of his suffering. Surprisingly, it worked, if only slightly. I had always regarded vulneraries and the like with some degree of skepticism, but I had never seen their effects for myself. I resolved to carry at least one vulnerary and one elixir with me at all times. I wondered why someone did not just go buy one of these strange concoctions from a store themselves, instead of resorting to asking someone who most people you knew avoided...
As the man thanks me, and I say my farewells, I hear the villlagers gossip. It seemed that the man's would was not unique to that day. It seemed that the bandits were getting more and more bold, because of the fall of many powerful guilds. The began raiding villages, taking all they could and killing everyone except those they can sell. The mercanaries they tried to hire seemed to not be able to work, as they were disorganized and they clashed. They also raided merchant trains, explaining the lack of supplies in stores.
Wasn't truely my problem, I didn't want to get involved with bandits, or fighters, again.
And that is A Tactician's Lament! I hope that it isn't too short...I wanted to make this a one-shot, but now I want to make it several chapters...Maybe I'll compromise.
