Before he knew what he was doing, he had leapt up onto the parapet.
The height was dizzying, but the wind was exhilarating. He closed his eyes for but a second, relishing in the feeling, the cool breeze brushing past his burning skin.
Burning…
He felt as though he was burning from the inside out, his entire body aflame. The flames compelled him to stand on the edge now, shouting hateful words he wished never passed through his mouth. Even with the soothing breeze, the flames continued to roar inside of him, consuming him in their ever-eternal hunger.
Out of his swimming vision rimmed with fire, he saw his sister's heart-shaped face crumpling in despair. He wanted to reach out and reassure her, to wipe such an expression off of her lovely features, but he found himself unable to, unable to reach past the fire.
He felt his body drifting backwards.
No… he thought in horror. He was going to fall.
No, falling wasn't the right word.
Falling was an accident.
This…this was jumping.
Or rather, a stepping point.
He was stepping off of the stones, he realized belatedly.
He scrambled for purchase, sudden panic seizing through him and quelling the fire for a time. Twisting, he clawed for grip on the stone barricade, grasping on for all he was worth. He could feel the flames desperately pulling at him, urging him to let go, to succumb.
With a grunt of anger, he stubbornly clutched to life, from his mouth a steady stream of curse words.
His sister reached over the stone, extending a hand. In his tunnel-like vision, it was the only thing he could focus on. Those hands, her long, unblemished fingers reaching for him. He felt his grip loosening as the fire stripped away his strength.
Finally, with a gasp, his hand rose to met hers, just as his other hand slipped from the stone.
He felt a millisecond of terrifying weightlessness before their hands interlocked.
"Hold on!" Kamui shouted, straining with effort. From her hand, a coolness seemed to emit, further dispelling the flames.
"Kamui!" Takumi gasped, his other hand reaching out before floundering in the air for a moment. Her other hand came to meet it, and they held onto each other.
From behind, Azura took ahold of Kamui's waist and began to drag her back. Another soldier took ahold of Azura and supported her, too. Slowly but surely, Takumi was lifted, his feet finally meeting solid ground.
He collapsed on the wall, his head spinning. Kamui—Corrin, he corrected himself—was still holding his hand, and the flames were all but gone, a mere afterthought.
A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He wiped it off with a gloved hand before collapsing back. His vision was swimming just as his thoughts were, and he felt exhausted. He just needed to…close his eyes for a moment.
The moment passed.
Takumi woke.
He sat up abruptly, the cot underneath him uncomfortably hard. He stood abruptly, but his vision spiraled again. Resting a hand on a cold wall, he steadied himself before looking around.
His heart dropped.
The only light came from torches in the hall. Bars separated him from the dank hallway, and a freezing draft swept through. Though his cell was equipped with a blanket and cot, it was still uncomfortably cramped and cold. A leak incessantly dripped, water collecting in the corner of his cell by a bucket. He grimaced.
He walked to the bars, rattling them once to test them. Sturdy.
Hatred filled him.
He had wanted so desperately to live—but what kind of life was this? He tried to make out the cell opposite him, but there was no occupant. There was no movement around him. It seemed as though he were alone.
Dejected and angry, he paced back to his cot, returning to the bars again. He continued in this fashion, unable to stand still. The constant drip drip of the leak was incredibly annoying.
Irked, he continued to pace until he was intimate and familiar with his uniform surroundings.
It was infuriating, waiting for something to happen. It was as if time itself had stopped, and he was the only being in the world able to move about. The only assurance that time was actually passing was the constant drip of that horrid leak.
Finally, a Nohrian guard approached the cell. Takumi immediately began to shout, demanding to know where Kamui was, but the guard wordlessly slid a tray under the bars before walking away. Takumi hurled himself against the bars again, watching the guard's retreating back hopelessly.
He glanced down at the tray. Bread that wasn't stale, a generous cup of water, grapes, cheeses…
He tried to resist the temptation, pushing the tray away at first. It was Nohrian food, a far cry from Hoshidan delicacies. They had most likely poisoned it. Nohrians weren't to be trusted—especially since he was alone in his cell, no other inmates surrounding him. This food was the likely way to kill him.
He sat back in a crouch, staring at the food dejectedly. It seemed fit for a last meal, equipped with regular food rather than prison food. He couldn't imagine prison food being this luxurious. It had to be a last meal.
He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
With determination, he pushed the tray away, closer to the bars. Folding his arms and ignoring the gnawing in his stomach, he returned to his cot and sat on it, staring at the wall opposite. Within minutes, he was bored out of his mind again.
The darkness outside his cell turned to a gray afterthought, signaling the coming of the morning. Takumi glanced down at the tray still lying innocently in front of his cell. That must have been his breakfast. He scoffed, before reaching out with a foot and pushing it farther away.
After a while, a raging thirst overtook him. Eyeing the cup of water, he resolved not to drink from it. Instead, he steeled himself and deliberated for many minutes before finally giving in and walking to the leak. Shuddering, he thrust his head under it, catching the droplets in his mouth.
For a time, the drip drip sounds ceased.
The water was metallic but not foul. He surmised it was probably safer than the cup, anyways.
By the time the gray light turned back to darkness, Takumi had received two more trays. They taunted him, all sitting at the forefront of his cell. It seemed the guards didn't want to retrieve the earlier trays until they were cleared.
Investigating them, Takumi forcibly shoved aside the food, trying to keep his eyes off of it. He examined the trays, scowling when he realized they were made of some flimsy metal. Not good for combat. He tried to bend one, fashion it into a useful shape, but the tray was brittle, breaking with a great shattering sound. He glanced outside his cell, but no guards rushed to apprehend him.
Pieces of tray littered the floor now, sparkling in the torchlight. They were too thin to be of any immediate use. Though…
He picked up a few of the longer pieces, pocketing them. He could wedge these pieces between his fingers and use them to put more force behind punches. He could potentially draw blood this way. This plan in mind, he returned to his cot, shuffling to the other side of his cell.
As the night passed, he grew more exhausted. He hadn't done anything, and he could feel his muscles aching, pleading to be used, but he could do no more than simple exercises in such a small, confined space. Finally, dissatisfied with the day's events (or lack thereof), he laid down on the cot, staring at the ceiling.
Slowly, slowly, he drifted asleep.
He jolted awake, screaming.
Two guards came rushing to his cell, both checking to make sure he was okay. Incoherent, he assured them both that he was fine before he realized where he was. He spat at them to leave, and they did.
The torchlight flickered in the grayness.
His sheets and tunic were soaked through with sweat. He took his sweat-soaked sheets and tried to rub himself off the best he could. When his sweat dried, the cold draft wouldn't do him any good. He took a few deep breaths, continuing to work. It took his mind off things.
There were four trays in his cell, now, including the one he had shattered in half. He placed all of the food on top of one tray, stacking that tray on all the rest. He threw the water out of his cell before stacking the cups neatly, arranging them on top of the stack of trays. He swept up the remnants of his third tray, placing the shards in one of the emptied cups.
With nothing else to do but wait, Takumi put himself through several strengthening exercises, even going so far as to jog in place. He was careful not to work up a sweat, taking many breaks. His small workouts weren't satisfying him, though—he had to go harder.
Impatience and fury came at him in waves. He rattled the bars more than was necessary and kicked at any stones to see if they were loose. He kicked at more stones, gaining nothing but a throbbing toe in the process. He searched for an escape in the floor, but there was nothing.
Boredom was eating him whole.
"Am I supposed to rot in here?" he yelled out of the cell, but there was no response. He snorted. Figures the guards would have selective hearing.
His stomach growled loudly in the quiet space, and he sat down, massaging it, willing it to be silent. He could feel a strange fatigue spreading through his limbs, and he knew that he had burned calories earlier in his workouts. Cursing to himself, he berated himself on his foolishness.
He tried to will himself to sleep again, but it didn't work. The fifth and sixth trays arrived, both of which he pushed aside. That meant a measly two days had passed since he had been placed in the cell; he felt as though much more time had elapsed.
When he woke the next morning, drenched again, he bit his tongue to keep from crying out. The guards didn't come running this time, leaving him without human interaction again. At least yesterday morning he had seen their faces, the pale, almost translucent skin of the Nohrians.
After the seventh and eighth trays had been pushed in and discarded, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Takumi listened hard, but they didn't possess the same heaviness of the armored boots the guards wore. Deciding this was worth his time, he stood from his cot, swaying slightly. The lack of food and minimal water was taking its toll on him.
"Prince Takumi."
A man stood outside his cell. Takumi recognized him, faintly, but couldn't put a name to the stranger. He had dull gray hair, nothing like Takumi's silver locks. An eyepatch obscured one eye from view, and his figure was swathed in dark Nohrian clothes. His skin was curiously dark, a trait shared among Hoshidans.
Takumi felt his lip lift in a sneer. "Come to gloat?" he hissed angrily, moving swiftly to the bars and wrapping his hands against them, arms wide. "Nohrian scum."
The man seemed unfazed, his absent gaze drifting over the pile of neatly stacked trays. Though he put on an air of indifference, Takumi could see thoughts flickering in his one eye like koi fish in the spring.
"You haven't been eating," the man said, pointing out the obvious. The implications of his tone, however, told Takumi much more.
"Good to see you've noticed," Takumi retorted. "Perhaps your guards would take a hint and stop bringing the trays."
His biting remarks were doing nothing to the man, whose impassive yet sharp gaze turned back to Takumi. He didn't know what to make of this man.
"I'm not here to give you pity, if that's what you want," the man finally said, nudging the bars with a boot. "You're forcing this upon yourself. If you want to die of starvation, be my guest—you'll get no sympathy from me, prince."
The honorific was added on in mockery. Takumi's scowl deepened.
"Listen, scum," Takumi seethed, leaning forward from his position. "When I get out of this prison, I will tear Nohr apart, piece by piece, starting with the traitor."
Traitor…
Betrayal…
The fire licked at his insides, and suddenly the hunger pains that he had felt disappeared. The world seemed to crumble around him, leaving only himself and the man standing outside the cell. He wanted to reach out with the flames, to grasp the one-eyed man's face, to watch as the fire swallowed him whole. He wanted to hear the man scream for mercy.
He would get no sympathy from Takumi.
The heat forced him forward, his hand outstretched through the bars. He felt something bubble up in his throat, searing and wonderful. A laugh of some sort. His feet moved of their own accord, halting just before the bars.
Drip…drip…
He whipped his head to the side angrily. The one-eyed man was speaking again, but Takumi didn't bother to listen. Instead, he focused his gaze on the leak from the ceiling. The water coalesced on a tiny stalactite. When it grew too heavy, it dropped down to the ground, making the tiniest of sounds, echoing in the silence of the prison. As he watched the water, the flames seemed to die down.
The embers remained.
The one-eyed man looked apathetic as always as Takumi surfaced from his sound-cancelling state.
"…send others down to check on you. After all, you were asleep for two weeks," the man was saying. "Hopefully it won't be me, again. Keep skipping out on the meals. If you die, it'd do both you and me a favor. Though it'd be sad to see your pretty face go…"
He turned on his heel and walked away, his steps light and meandering.
By the tenth tray, a new visitor had arrived.
He was…
"Prince of light! Beware my dark presence—will you be able to withstand the aura of shadows I exude?!"
…a character.
Takumi found himself averting his gaze as another man entered the cell block. His footsteps were heavy, like the guards, but not armored and not very loud. He walked with a purpose, his steps confident and, as he came into view, incredibly jubilant.
"Who are you supposed to be?" Takumi asked sharply, trying to look anywhere but the man's exposed chest. "The court jester?"
The blond man looked genuinely hurt. "Why, prince of light—I serve under my master, Lord Leo! I am one of his retainers. You may call me Odin the Destroyer!"
"…Odin," Takumi reaffirmed. The man nodded wildly, grinning.
"And, my friend, Prince Takumi of Hoshido, I have been sent on an…admittedly strange mission," Odin said in his theatrical, booming voice, shrugging. "I have been informed that you are not eating? Sustenance is key for a warrior of darkness—"
Takumi tuned him out as he went on a spiel. Sometimes he would nod or grunt in acknowledgement, but Odin's words flew in one ear and out the other. He felt a strange surge of fascination watching the other man talk, gesticulating wildly and pacing back and forth, unable to keep still for very long.
Takumi hadn't realized he had stopped talking.
There was a moment of silence before Odin quietly said, "You need to eat, Prince Takumi. Lady Kamui really cares for you, you know. That's why you were placed in this separate cell block."
Takumi snorted. "Tell your little princess she can stop caring," he muttered.
It explained the lack of prisoners. Still, they placed him in the cell with the leak. He highly doubted that was out of the goodness of Kamui's heart.
Odin looked genuinely hurt for a moment, and Takumi felt a brief flash of guilt before clamping down on it immediately. He owed nothing to this sick Nohrian. Though, admittedly, Odin was more tolerable than the other Nohrians.
He just needed to learn to tune the man out sometimes.
"…look, I'm sorry," Takumi huffed, crossing his arms. "But I won't eat Nohrian food."
Contrary to what reaction he had predicted, Odin's face lit up. The retainer grinned.
"Never fear, prince of light!" he proclaimed, and Takumi stuffed down a groan. "I, Odin Dark, know just the solution! Wait here!"
Takumi bit back a sarcastic retort. Of course he would have to wait here—there was nowhere else to go.
Enough time passed that when Odin returned, Takumi was seated on his cot, thoroughly convinced the retainer had gone. Odin carried with him a tray, laden with two covered bowls.
"The castle cook didn't know much," Odin said softly in that same voice he had used earlier, "but these were made of the ingredients we could dredge up. You were in luck—Lord Leo was able to buy goods from a passing Hoshidan merchant but a few days ago."
He bent down and pushed the tray through the cell before sitting back on his heels, looking for all the world like an excited puppy. When it became apparent he wouldn't leave until Takumi investigated the tray, the Hoshidan sighed and bent over, sitting crosslegged and setting the tray across his lap. Odin mirrored his position on the ground, sitting opposite, excitement barely contained.
One of the bowls was hot to the touch. Takumi uncovered it, discovering a watery miso soup, bits of tofu floating in its brownish broth. The other bowl held merely rice, unformed and, as he picked up one of the grains, slightly undercooked. A fork was provided rather than the usual chopsticks.
He glanced back up, and Odin's excitement seemed to sharpen. He sighed, indulging the poor retainer. He picked up the miso soup and raised the bowl to his lips, pausing only a moment.
What if this was how they killed him?
But, suddenly, his body moved of its own accord, slurping greedily at the broth. Matching his previous assessment, it was incredibly watery, but it had a faint undertone of home to it. The warmth spread through his stomach quickly, dispelling some of the damp coldness he had come to experience in the cell. All too soon, he had drained the bowl in one go.
He moved onto the rice, eating quickly. He apparently held the fork wrong—Odin tried to correct him in vain—but more importantly, he was able to finish the meal. After days of having nothing in his stomach, he finally felt satisfied, if not a little bit nauseous.
Odin looked overjoyed. "I must tell Lord Leo of this success!" he said, jumping up and sprinting away.
Takumi felt himself pale. Success? Was he…
He knew too much time had passed since he had eaten the food. Upheaving it now would do nothing to chase away potential poisons. His nausea washed over him, increasingly strong. Had he just killed himself?
Time passed, marked by the dripping of the leak. He wasn't given a twelfth tray as the gray light faded into darkness.
Though, he realized as he laid on his cot, he hadn't succumbed to poison, yet.
Had he even been poisoned?
His searching eyes found the outside of his cell.
Time passed, and when he didn't die the next day, or the next, or the next, he finally came to terms that he hadn't been poisoned by Odin.
He began to accept the food brought by the dark mage.
He woke to total darkness.
Not even torchlight. He couldn't feel the reassuring cot underneath him, either. He pushed himself into a sitting position, desperately feeling around for anything that would give him a key to his surroundings. His hand found something soft—fabric? Wandering blindly, he realized the fabric was attached to a person. Clothing.
"Hello?" he called, feeling quite stupid.
He was holding the arm of the person. He tried to shake them awake, but to no avail—they remained on the ground. He shoved himself up again until he was in a crouching position. His hands wandered down the person's arms until he checked their pulse.
The blood rushed to his ears as he realized they didn't have one.
As if the realization had cued it, the light suddenly returned, flooding the featureless area. Kamui laid beneath him, her gray hair spooling outwards from her body. A clean, cauterized wound ran through her, leaving a gaping hole in her chest. Through it, the floor was visible.
With horror, he recoiled from the body, the stench suddenly hitting him. He clamped a hand over his nose and mouth, but immediately the metallic tang of blood reached his tongue. He quickly withdrew his hand, finding it to be covered in blood.
Someone was breathing raggedly behind him.
He whirled, finding Ryoma, crouching on the ground, clutching his side. A cauterized wound not unlike Kamui's had sliced through his armor, exposing the skin beneath. Ryoma barely had the strength to lift his head, his eyes shining in fear.
Horror's icy fingers gripped Takumi, freezing him in place.
Behind Ryoma, impaled through the eye and chest respectively, were Sakura and Hinoka, their bodies carelessly sprawling where they had fallen.
"Takumi…why would you do this?" Ryoma finally asked, barely voicing the words between ragged breaths.
"I—I didn't—" Takumi began, but he found himself moving of his own accord. The Fujin Yumi appeared in his blood-soaked hands, and with trembling fingers he summoned the string, drawing it.
No, no, NO!
He could only watch in horror as his body moved of its own accord. He drew the arrow of wind back to his ear, settling into the stance. Ryoma was at point blank range—there was no way he would miss this. He screamed and tried to stop himself, but his fingers slowly unfurled from the string.
The arrow struck Ryoma through the chest.
"No!" Takumi finally screamed aloud, dashing forward but unable to reach his brother, seemingly halted in midair, his hand outstretched—
He woke, gasping.
"Are you quite alright?"
His gaze snapped to the entrance to the cell. Anyone but him.
Prince Leo of Nohr, also known as the dirtiest scum imaginable, stood, a look of pity written across his features.
"I don't need your sympathy," Takumi spat, becoming red-faced despite trying to shove his embarrassment down. Rage anew washed through him. "Get out!"
Prince Leo's face remained unchanged. "There's no need to be so hostile, Prince Takumi," he said, infuriatingly collected. "And, to be quite frank, you don't have the ability to force me away."
Takumi snarled, pushing himself to his feet and lunging for the bars. Prince Leo took a hasty step back as Takumi's hands reached for his collar. He had done so just in time—Takumi's hands brushed air.
"Listen, Nohrian scum," he growled, "the only thing saving you right now are these bars. The moment I get out of here, I'm going to rip your throat out. You don't deserve an honorable death. The traitor doesn't deserve an honorable death."
Prince Leo's eyes suddenly sparked, and he was the one to surge forward, grabbing Takumi through the bars by the jumpsuit. Takumi, taken off guard, flew forward, impacting the hard metal with a harsh clang. Seething, he looked into the face of the prince of Nohr, who wasn't so emotionless now.
"The only reason you're still alive is at my sister's insistence," the mage hissed in a low growl, his eyes burning wells of anger. "But if you threaten her one more time, I don't give a damn what she says. You'll soon find out what I do to my enemies."
"Real scary," Takumi took the opportunity to spit in Prince Leo's face. "I can take it."
The bars were wide enough that Prince Leo could accurately swing, slamming his fist into the side of Takumi's jaw. Unable to squirm away, Takumi took the full brunt of the blow, seeing stars. He brought his own fists up in retaliation, but the coward released him and stepped out of his range, brushing his clothes off nonchalantly.
"Forgive me," he said, but it didn't sound very genuine at all. Takumi could hear the sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. "I'm just here to inform you that you will be brought before King Xander tomorrow morning."
King Xander?
Had Garon perished in the fight with Hoshido? A rush of sickening glee raced through Takumi. Garon was dead. And he was to meet Xander in the morning.
"What, with this?" Takumi gestured to his jaw, which was already swelling. "That'd do wonders for public image."
Prince Leo's lip raised. "You got what you deserved. The Nohrian people will surely understand that. They don't particularly favor Hoshidans; public image is not a problem. Sit tight for now, little prince. Your punishment will come soon. I hope your death doesn't come too swiftly."
"I'm being threatened by a man whose collar is inside out," Takumi said bluntly, crossing his arms.
Prince Leo instinctively checked before cursing under his breath. Though a small victory, Takumi felt a rush of satisfaction as the Nohrian strode away.
Welcome to my story! I would like to explain a few things before proceeding.
I've already written the majority of this story out, but this is definitely something I write when I need to unwind, so it isn't edited or beta-read, unfortunately. Please forgive any mistakes!
However, since this is something I write at leisure, I will also send out chapters in much the same way. I probably won't update on a set schedule unless this story gains popular demand, but I will attempt to make updates frequent. Feel free to leave a review on your thoughts and on characterizations-I've decided to deviate just the slightest amount from the actual game.
And never fear! Ylisse is near...
Ish. In a few chapters. So have patience!