It has been 24 years since the events of Fire Emblem: Sacred Stones. In the time since, the continent of Magvel has improved greatly. Thanks to the marriage of Prince Ephraim of Renais to Princess Tana of Frelia, the two nations dissolved into one and a council to govern the new state of Renais-Frelia was formed.
This council consisted of eight members: Ephraim and Tana as well as Princess Eirika and her husband and knight, Seth, Prince Innes and his lovely bride Vanessa, Ross, the War General, and Cyphus, a powerful sage who was elected to deal with all things magic related.
The first job of the initial six members, excluding Ross and Cyphus, was to lead Renais-Frelia and help with relief to Grado after its natural disasters.
Ross was asked to lead Renais-Frelia's military after his father refused nearly two decades ago. He kept Renais-Frelia's military in working order and ensured all were well trained. Upon the death of his wife, Ross took a four year leave to care for his newborn son. It was at this time that Cyphus was being considered.
Cyphus was a tutor for a large number of youths interested in learning about magic. He was brought on first as an advisor, but later became a full member upon Ross' return. They both agreed to work closely and cooperate in their training of troops. Cyphus was also granted the Tower of Valni to train his pupils.
Ross divided Renais-Frelia's forces to be commanded by 3 individual generals and Cyphus supplied mages wherever needed.
As per an agreement with any remaining representatives of Grado, Renais-Frelia offered unwavering support under the condition that the new leader was one of their choosing. Cormag was the first name stated, but he was not greatly considered because he would never accept. Knoll agreed to be an ambassador to the Council on Grado's behalf. He presented the council with a promising young general named Talskun. They agreed and Talskun took power under the council's guidance.
Today, although still improving, there is unrest in Grado thanks to the influence of Renais-Frelia. Most of whom's citizens are completely ignorant of the growing hostility.
All council members were seated in chairs in a 4x2 configuration, facing each other lengthwise. The room was fairly dim to support better thought process and help relieve stress, a contribution Cyphus made upon becoming a council member. Another design change made by him was the large, red, ornamental rug that ran between the chairs and up the 7 steps behind the four chairs that faced the north end of the room and then directly to the heavy iron door which remained locked during meetings. The door was locked today.
Following the rug and bisecting the Southmost seats, Tana sat to the right with Cyphus next to her and Ephraim sat to the left with Ross on his other side. East to west, running across from them were Innes and Vanessa, their hands folded together, and Eirika and Seth.
Seth and Ephraim were both wearing ornamental armor while everyone else was wearing robes. Ross had made his complaints a long time ago about how soft and uncomfortable his were, but he decided they weren't so bad and got used to them due to his son once telling him how luxurious they seemed and his pride in his father. He still looked a little weird in them just because they were so nice and he did not seem the type to wear such robes.
Seth made a final statement regarding the taxes for the coming months and Cyphus closed his book. Ephraim clapped.
"Now that we have that matter is settled," he said, "How have you been these past few weeks, Eirika?"
"Just fine, brother," she replied, "Seth and I are very happy to be back." She took his hand in her own to mirror Innes and Vanessa.
"I am glad to hear it. I trust your trip to Rausten was worthwhile."
"It was beautiful. L'Arachel was a very gracious host."
"We brought Liam with us this time," Seth added, "It has been almost a year since he has seen the Capitol."
"Quite a long time for a boy who lives here," Cyphus commented.
"There are always such pressing matters to deal with and he doesn't like to be left alone."
"He likes to see the other countries," Eirika said.
Ross cut in, "I had heard that you brought my son with. Is that true?"
"Yes, Liam wouldn't come without him."
"I trust he has been of help."
"Absolutely. He trains with Liam everyday." She turned to Seth. "Do remind me to thank Cormag for the egg."
"I have already sent a messenger," Seth explained.
"I should still like to thank him personally."
"I saw it just before we started," Tana added, "When will it hatch?"
Seth answered, "Cormag assured us it would be within the next two weeks. Liam is very excited."
"Mayhap," Cyphus started, "We should go see the boy rather than sit here talking about him. I think we can call this meeting adjourned."
"A messenger to retrieve them?" Vanessa posed.
"A wonderful idea, Vanessa."
Cyphus made his way to the door. After a couple knocks, the lock clicked open and a guard poked his head in. Cyphus relayed brief instructions and the guard nodded before closing the door and locking it again.
Just a short trek on the road leading from the castle and a left turn onto a smaller dirt path laid a collection of three houses. They were surrounded by light woods. A large well-kept pond sat nearby.
At the edge of the pond, two people danced with wooden weapons, each trying to make contact with the body of the other. The first was a somewhat scrawny young lad with bright red hair. He jabbed and spun, using a lance with much intended grace, but none translated properly.
The other body was that of an obviously larger and older boy with black hair who swung a wooden axe. He easily deflected or parried any oncoming strikes and relayed orders for the smaller one to better his footing, timing, stance, force, and aggressiveness. After ten minutes, he lowered his axe. Liam, the smaller one, bowed. Blake, his sparring partner, followed suit.
They sat down at the edge of the pond and began tossing stones in.
"You should really try keeping your feet planted when you strike," Blake told Liam, "You always pick up your right foot and wind up losing your balance."
"I do have trouble keeping them planted when dealing with you," Liam remarked, "But at least the maidens have no trouble with that."
Liam laughed and let a handful of stones go sailing into the water.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, you just aren't any good with them is all."
"That has nothing to do with your fighting style."
"It is something I can do better than you, though."
"A twelve year old should not be concerned with such matters."
"Yet I should be worried about training for combat?"
"When you always lose? Yes."
"I do not 'always lose.' "
"Four bouts today, four losses for you."
"And yesterday?"
"Three, all victories for me."
"And before yesterday?"
"You have yet to best me. I will always win because I have size."
"It will happen."
"Not today."
"How about one more?"
Blake raised an eyebrow then smiled.
"Sure. I should break a sweat sometime today anyway."
They pulled themselves up and bowed to each other before having an exchange that lasted all of thirty seconds. Blake flipped Liam's lance into the air then dropped his shoulder and hurtled him. Liam hit the ground hard but did not complain. He laid back, watching the now orange clouds drift overhead.
Blake wandered over to Liam and offered his hand. Once the boy was on his feet, Blake picked up the poorly weighted lance and gave it back to Liam. He accepted it and scowled, staring at the place where his hand gripped the shaft.
"That hurt." Liam said wiping his backside with his left hand.
"I'm sorry," Blake said patting him on the shoulder, "But that is how fighting goes." He tossed Liam's hair to get some of the dust out.
Liam swiped Blake's hand away, so he smiled and turned. He walked along the edge of the pond, dragging his axe across the cattails. Liam watched as he strolled, beginning to whistle a tune. Liam looked down at the rod in his hand. He flipped it and brought it to his back before flourishing and decapitating twenty cattails. He sighed as the debris floated past him.
Liam turned to follow Blake, but heard someone approaching from behind. When he looked, he saw a guard from the castle jogging toward him.
"Blake!" he called before setting his lance down. In a moment, Blake was standing next to him again and they walked to meet the guard who had slowed after hearing Liam's voice.
"Good day to you." Blake said happily.
"And to you both, young sirs." the guard replied.
"What can I do you for?"
"The council requests your presence."
"Is it urgent?"
The guard shook his head.
"It would not appear so."
"Well," Blake looked to Liam, "We should go see what they want."
"Neat!" Liam exclaimed, "I'll get to see the chambers now!"
"They aren't that grand. Get your egg and we'll go."
"Alright, I'll be right back." Blake handed him his axe before he turned and took off toward the East-most house.
"Once he returns," Blake said to the guard, "We will follow you."
"Very well, sir." The guard smiled through his helmet. Blake could tell he was being sincere. He liked the idea of being called "sir," but he knew the guard was just being polite.
"Must I be called that?" Blake asked.
"Called what, my lord?"
"That. Just now you called me 'lord' and before that, 'sir'. Why?"
"Because you are my lord. It won't be much longer and you will be the War General."
"Just like my father, huh?" Blake had heard the pep talk before.
"Exactly. All the men are excited to see you succeed. I have faith that you will be an excellent military commander. You never seem to stop training."
"But that isn't the way the world works anymore."
"Either way, when the time comes you will be the most qualified. Being trained by the current War General himself!"
"Yeah…" Blake looked at the ground.
"And just to think that he is your father!" He reached out and patted Blake's shoulder. "That's amazing!"
"It really isn't."
"To be able to train with the strongest warrior in the world? Many would kill just at the thought."
"I suppose you would be right about that." Blake looked up and smiled, not feeling too sure of how genuine it was.
"Hey!" Liam called, "I got it!" He ran at them carrying a satchel that seemed fairly well weighted. He had left the practice weapons behind.
"Great," said the soldier, "Let us be on our way." He turned, but Blake waited for Liam to catch up before following the guard.
The three made it but a few feet before the guard stopped. Blake put his hand out to stop to Liam who was too busy looking down at the egg poking out the top of his satchel. It was jade with myrtle veins running across its entirety.
"Huh?" was the guard response to something in front of him. Blake looked at the guard's back before leaning to peer over his shoulder. There was a figure in the distance. "What?" The guard squinted at the person barely visible.
Blake heard a thump and the guard put a foot back to steady his body. He was unable to gain control of himself and staggered back into Blake, who put his own foot back. The guard slumped and fell out of Blake's arms onto the ground. After his body hit, Blake noticed an arrow protruding from the center of his chest. He looked up to see the figure's arm go above its head.
Blake picked up the guard's shoulders and pulled him into a seated position.
"Liam!" He yelled, stretching his arm to the boy. Liam ducked behind the body and watched as Blake's eyes searched the ground, not for anything on it, however. He was in fact searching his mind for what he should do and why he was in the situation he was. He came up completely blank and his eyes began to water.
"Blake?" Liam asked. Blake couldn't respond. He didn't even look up. He did the opposite, lowering his head before clamping his eyes shut, trying to will a different place into being. He would have rather been anywhere. He tried to imagine scenarios such as this and he had always known what to do. He imagined standing up to jerks who were picking on little kids like Liam, a pretty lady, or even himself. He wanted to go back and show them who they were dealing with. By now, he had to be stronger than them.
Blake wanted to stand face-to-face and stare them down before making them pay. They would leave with broken bones, fat lips, and black eyes if they were to leave at all. It wouldn't just be the one either. It would be him and his entire pose, three, four, even ten. All would be sorry for doubting him.
This wasn't a group of brutish hoodlums, though. It was not a back alley. Blake was no longer a boy and Liam was watching. It was his duty to keep him safe and be the man he wanted to so badly to be, the one who would never back down from a challenge, the one who would stare down a hundred adversaries and laugh before killing them all barehanded and begging for seconds, the one his father could be proud of.
He wasn't that man and he knew it.
He dreamed of taking on thousands, but he couldn't handle one. He would be shot down before he was even able to lay a finger on him. That, or he would be shot in the back as he ran like a coward. He was all talk and he knew it. He hated it.
Blake told himself that if he lived through the day, he would stop being all talk and let his actions be his means of communication. He would stop holding back and never stand down. Then again, that was exactly what he had said when he was Liam's age and was nursing his bruises and cuts in the gutter. The truth was that he was no different than he was then. The situation was the same as well. He was in over his head and not ready to take on anyone. There was no reason for him to change now, no catalyst to drastically change his demeanor.
"Blake!" Liam yelled. Blake gazed up with terror and tears filling his eyes. He saw the same fear on Liam's face that he was feeling. He tried to hide it himself, but he was clearly failing. He wiped his eyes and gave the fakest smile he had ever attempted.
"It'll be okay." he said.
"What do we do?!" Blake's face transferred to confusion. There wasn't much in his mind they could do. They were out in the open and without weapons. Blake looked at the lance loosely suspended by the guard's fingers. He then glanced up at the house that Liam had set his bag by.
Another arrow pierced the guard's torso. The jolt from the impact partnered with the knowledge of the time it would take for the archer to draw again sent Blake into action. He shot his arm forward and pointed at the house.
"Go!" He yelled. He pushed off the guard and dropped his hand to grip the lance. Liam ran with egg in hand and Blake easily caught up. He was nearly bent double while sprinting in an attempt to protect his head and back in case another arrow came.
Blake reached the house and hit the door with his full weight. It swung open and blake's shoulder instantly ached. He ignored it as best he could while turning back to Liam.
"Come on!" Liam ducked under Blake's arm as he began to slam the door shut. When the door was halfway closed, an arrow ricocheted off its old wood just above head height and sent splinters into Blake's hair.
Once the door was closed, Blake leaned his back against it. He took in a deep breath and lowered his head. The small collection of chips in his hair dropped onto the worn floorboards.
"What is the meaning of this ruckus?!" Came an outraged voice from the backroom of the house. Blake looked up through the dusty room to see a well-aged man amble in. He was very obviously displeased and shot both boys a nasty look before wandering over to the table at the center of the room. It was rectangular but still only had one chair for each side. It was likely designed that way to insinuate that the chair the old man slowly sank into was the head of the table.
The old man nodded toward Blake, clearly noticing the lance.
"Care to explain yourself?" Blake took a step forward, but he stopped when the old man set his hand on the table and a knife slipped into his palm from beneath his sleeve. Blake handed the lance to Liam and took another step forward.
"Someone is attacking the castle." Blake said plainly. He would have put more emotion into his words, but he wasn't entirely sure of himself. He didn't know for sure if the castle was under attack. He had only seen one man and not for very long. Only one man had been killed as well, just the guard. Who was to say that the archer was not simply making good on a bet that he had been stiffed? But then, why would he continue firing at Liam and himself? No, Blake decided that he had to be attacking the castle, but only a fool would attack a whole castle alone. He had more with him for sure, though, who he was and why anybody would want to attack was a complete mystery to Blake.
Nevertheless, Blake stood his ground.
"What nonsense! Nobody would ever be that foolish."
"It's true!" Blake said trying not to sound whiny. The old man didn't buy it. Liam glanced out the window. He saw three men marching toward a house to the Southwest.
"Blake…" Liam said worriedly. Blake looked out and saw one of the men kick down the door. He heard the old man prize himself from the chair and walk up behind them. He put his hands on their shoulders to part them, leaving neither a clear a view of the scene outside. A woman was dragged out of the house by her hair. The man doing so had a large sword in his other hand.
Smoke began to stream from the house as the swordsman pushed the woman to her knees. She tilted her head down and began to pray through heavy tears. The man standing behind raised his sword and brought it down over the back of her head. He kicked her forward to free it again.
Blake saw the old man cover his mouth in disdain before scowling and turning from the window. Blake glanced back out again to see the house begin burning. The three men began marching menacingly toward the house they were occupying.
The old man walked to the North side of the table, the right side to where he had been sitting, and pulled back the chair. Blake turned back to watch him. He put his palms on the underside of the table and began exerting himself. Blake thought he looked near mad and that he was far too old and frail to budge the heavy wooden piece of furniture. He was ready to question the old man just before the table was flipped onto its side with a loud thud.
Once the table was out of the way, the old man knelt and ran his hands over the floorboards. He found a loose one and ripped it in half thanks to a quick yank. Blake was intrigued by the old man's surprising amount of strength. He reached into the hole and gripped something. As he began to pull, Blake realized what it was. He was holding the handle of a weapon.
As the item was nearly extracted, it snagged on the remaining board. The old man seemed displeased and yanked again. When it still didn't come, Blake got a little impatient.
"Do you wa-" he started before the old man grunted and ripped up the board. He was holding a double sided axe, but the board was still attached to one side. He set the head down and kicked off the excess wood. After, he held it in both hands and smiled devilishly.
"You boys stay inside." The old man said walking toward the door. Blake stepped in front of him. "Remove yourself from my path." Blake shook his head.
"It would be best if I handle this. I'm not sure it would b-"
"Would what?! You think I am some weary old man that can't fight? Let me tell you. I was one of the best generals of my time, still am. Some even called me Obsidian! I have forgotten more than you will ever know. Stand aside and let me handle this."
"No," Blake said plainly yet with conviction, "I will deal with this." The old man stared at the son of Ross and thought hard for a moment. He had more weapons he could use if he needed to. He ultimately decided to let Blake go. He seemed sure of himself. Of course, that didn't always mean a whole lot, but what made him decide to let Blake go was the fact that he would need to be a man and always doing everything for the younger generation would only ensure the opposite. In the end, it wasn't the old man's fight and he knew it.
"No. I will kill these fools." the old man said. He flipped the axe up to rest on his shoulder and made sure to make the impact seem like much more than it truly was. He groaned in imaginary pain and leaned over, nearly letting himself fall. "Take it." He let Blake grab the axe then stumbled into the chair he had pulled back. "Just put it back." No sooner than he said this, Blake was on his way out the door.
"Thanks!" Blake yelled back, running away.
"Well," the old man said to Liam, "At least you can keep me company." Liam glanced out the door then looked back to the old man. He carefully slipped his satchel down to rest on the floor. He gripped the lance and looked outside again. The old man sighed. "Go ahead." Liam dashed outside and caught the door as he went. The old man stood up and rushed to the window where he watched with great intent.
As the attackers approached the old man's house, the swordsman took a detour to the small cottage just to his left. One of the soldiers stood outside and waited for his comrade to come back out again. The final of the three continued a hundred feet before blake ran out from the house. He readied his lance in preparation for a quick altercation that would leave the black-haired lout begging for mercy. He would then see how many holes he could make before the boy fell unconscious. He couldn't help but smile at the thought that three would be his limit.
The boy held the axe out in front of him like a fool. The two iron cheeks of the head covered his chest. He rested his lance at his side and walked unassumingly as close as he could. He lunged out for the boy's belly and anticipated a slight resistance due to the boy's skin before gliding smoothly through his warm intestines. This was not what he received.
Blake angled the axe and quickly lowered it to deflect the lance between his legs. He lifted his right leg and spun on the heel of his left foot while extending his arm, swinging the axe in a wide arc.
The boy was fast. Before he knew it, he was pulling his head back to avoid the axe.
After Blake swung, he jumped back. He kept his eyes on the tip of the lance as he did so, but it didn't move. He glanced up at the man's surprised face who had a four inch trench in his neck. Blood had already begun to flow freely from the gap and saturate the clothes under his light armor.
The soldier stumbled back and fell. Blake dropped to his behind as well. Liam walked over to him and looked at the soldier. It was the first time that either of them had seen a dead body, but Blake was the one who created it.
"I just killed him." Blake said. Liam approached him slowly. The lance was no longer in the man's hand. Liam studied the man's face. His mouth and eyes were open, his final expression still lingering. Blood slowly pulsed out of his wound. To Liam, he still looked alive, like he could just blink, lick his lips, and stand up. 'Damn, that hurt,' he'd say. Liam waited for his eyes to move and look at him, but they stayed still.
"He looks funny." Liam said quietly.
"I just killed someone!" Liam turned back to his friend. He had always looked up to Blake. It was strange seeing his hero so destroyed mentally. He also expected Blake to get up and shrug it off like it was nothing. Perhaps the two of them, both Blake and the soldier, could shake hands and become friends. They could go out for a drink and talk about women or their fighting style.
Liam lifted Blake to his feet. Blake looked at the soldier on the ground and tossed down his axe in disgust when he saw the blood on it.
The sword-carrying attacker came out of the second house and seemed satisfied with himself, but he was concerned when he saw the body of his ally and the two boys beside. He flipped his sword, adopted an enraged expression and took off at them.
The other lance user was preparing to follow, but heard the door to the house open behind him. He glanced back to see a frightened villager poke his head out. Upon seeing the soldier, the young boy ducked back inside, but was pursued.
When Blake saw the swordsman approaching he uttered a curse and pushed Liam back then bent to reobtain his weapon. He came fast and Blake did his best to steel himself before charging to meet him. He swung at the swordsman as he got closer.
The swordsman dodged the edge of his axe and hooked it with his sword. He wrenched it from Blake's grasp and flung it out of reach. The swordsman strafed and poised himself to dash forward and strike Blake as he turned. He pushed with his right foot, but it barely got off the ground before being stopped harshly and causing him to stumble. He fell to his knees and turned back to swing at Liam, who had skewered his leg and pinned it to the ground.
Liam jumped back from the sword swing and watched as Blake quickly recovered his axe. The swordsman dropped his weapon and went about removing the lance from his calf. He grunted loudly in pain as he withdrew it. The sound from his agony masked that of Blake's approach until he was upon the swordsman.
His target reached back for his sword again. By the time he had a grip on the handle, Blake was bringing down his axe. The butt struck the swordsman's temple, immediately knocking him unconscious. Not a second after he hit the ground, Liam shoved the lance, which he had recovered, through the swordsman's oblique, pushing toward his heart.
Liam withdrew the lance and spun it so the tip was once again pointed toward the sky. On its way to its vertical position, it launched several drops of blood outward along its path.
The final soldier exited the house and slammed the door shut behind him. As he turned to face the world, he was aware of a fiery-haired boy yelling as a lance forced its way through his abdomen and came to a stop as it hit the door behind him. He gripped the shaft and held it as he raised his own lance to make a counter jab. Before he could shove it forward, Blake grabbed Liam's lance and ripped it out, causing the soldier to fall to his knees. His hand remained over his wound as his crimson fluid painted the earth beneath him. After a few seconds, his muscles weakened and his knowledge of his surroundings fleeted. He crashed to the ground and allowed sleep to overtake him.
LIam flipped the lance above his head and brought it down on the soldier's skull. There was quite a lot of resistance at first, but it eventually broke and permitted entrance to the cranial cavity. Liam gazed down as blood pooled to fill the gap. It soon overflowed, trickling down the soldier's face.
"Well, you seem to have handled that rather well." Blake smiled and patted Liam on the back. At the feeling of blake's hand, Liam lost his late lunch onto the deceased man's head, mixing stomach fluids and undigested food pieces with the gore beneath his lance. Blake couldn't help but laugh as he rubbed Liam's back.
"You alright?" Blake knew he wasn't because he, himself was not yet. He knew he would regret today and the taking of another's life, but his mind seemed to be blocking him from acknowledging any wrong he might have done.
Liam nodded.
"Yeah," he said before wiping his mouth, "I'm okay." He sniffed and pulled the lance. It didn't give at first and required a good second tug. He staggered back into Blake, who righted him. He turned to face his friend. "Thanks." His head was lowered and Blake could tell he was on the verge of tears. He hugged him, but he wasn't entirely sure which one of them needed it more. He liked to think it was Liam.
"We should head to the castle." Liam pushed off of Blake and they exchanged a glance that told Liam It'll be safe there.
"Okay." Liam wiped his eyes and Blake held his bloody axe in both hands. It was hard the first time, but he hadn't really been given a choice. At the moment, he was just happy he hadn't lied all those times he told himself he would be able to do it one day. Both began walking to the castle, later speeding up to a run.