Fire Emblem: Healing Hearts
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem and its characters, objects, and locations are not mine. The Tactician and any other OCs are mine though. Ain't life grand?
Prelude to the Healing: Bloody Wounds and Rain
N no . . . how could I? Too careless . . . far too careless.
A darkened figure slipped and toppled into the slick mud of the grassy plains. The rain fell thick and heavy, like a blanket trying to smother the flickering flame of his life. Trying to stand again, he could no longer tell what wetness was blood and what wasn't.
His wounds no longer stung; his body numb with the cold rain. He felt fifty pounds heavier with the sopping wet cloak of dark blue, now a dull gray color from the mud and blood from his wounds.
"Damn it! St. Elimine preserve me. I pray she's alright."
His thoughts drifted back to earlier in the day.
He had been traveling through the area west of Bulgar in the mountains trying to make his way to Lycia. He had stopped at one of the small villages along the way. It was pleasant enough; small plots of land for farming and a few small houses with villagers who knew everyone that lived there.
Several looks had been directed his way when he had entered but he wasn't very surprised. Dressing in a royal blue full-cloak and black traveling pants with side pockets, alongside a deep navy blue formal shirt and black long coat from his homeland wasn't exactly normal for people to see.
He had taken a liking some years back to the swords of the Sacaen people. The gently curving blade was lighter than a normal blade and still razor sharp. He enjoyed learning while with the Kutolah; their people inspired a different concept of honor and courage into this mind.
That being said, the sword by his side was exquisite. The sheath was a shining blue fading to red at the hilt of the sword guard. The handle was wrapped in dyed leather to match the sheath. It was truly a work of beauty.
The gauntlet guards on his forearms hid the sleeves of his jacket. A headband kept the sweat from his eyes and just flowed with the cloak whenever the wind picked up. One of the girls from the village ran up to him despite the yells from her parents.
She was plain at first glance. Long tan dress with an apron and a small cloth to cover her head from the sun. The girl was fair skinned, and her smile melted his tensions.
"Hello sir. Welcome to our village, do you need a place to stay tonight?"
She had an innocence that he had seen countless times before in many lives. He returned the smile easily and nodded slightly.
"Yes, but I shouldn't impose upon you. The town's square is fine for the night."
The young girl looked appalled at the thought of sleeping outdoors in the village. She continued to persist until he had given into her demands. Her parents had been reluctant, but agreed when he offered to help with some of the house work.
She had introduced herself as Elizabeth. Upon receiving his name, he had been the source of several odd looks. It wasn't the first time he'd been questioned for his odd name.
Her father had taken a liking to him as he helped with some of the repairs around the home. His masonry work was remarkable, as if trained by the military of one of the surrounding countries.
The sun had begun to go down on the village when he had finished with the last of the brick work. Satisfied with the progress he had made in that short afternoon, he joined the Elizabeth's family for supper.
The meal had been delightful, her mother had excellent skills with cooking and he had found it hard not to enjoy their company. Unlike most people who had opened their homes to the wayward traveler, they didn't question him about where he had come from or what he did for money.
Later that night he couldn't sleep and climbed to the roof of the house. Lying down on the crude tiles, he gazed up to the stars.
St. Elimine . . . are you watching this unworthy traveler? Bless this family. They have been so kind to me . . . a stranger; much like you did to everyone so long ago.
A noise from down below started him from his reverie. Elizabeth came up the ladder he had left perched on the edge of the roof.
"Mr. Kocoi? What are you doing up here? It's nearly a candle mark from midnight."
He chuckled lightly. She really was a good girl. He was about to reply when the sound of splintering wood reached their ears.
Looking toward the main gates, they were horrified when several axe wielding barbarians crashed through and cut down two of the townsfolk on watch. Firmly ordering her to wake her family and flee, he drew the blade at his side.
It gleamed in the torch lights as he jumped down from his perch. He dashed off toward the sounds of ruffians looting and innocents being slain.
"HAhaha! This here's easy lootin' for the likes of us!"
One brusque man bellowed over the chaotic din. A fellow raider looked proud of his prize, a young woman Kocoi recognized as a friend of Elizabeth. Tears were in her eyes and fear was written on her face.
"Heh, yahahaha. Look at me prize here! Think she'll sell for a pretty piece after I break'er in. Heheh."
She let out an agonized sob of grief. She'd be raped, and then sold as a slave or worse afterward. As the man reached out to grab her she shut her eyes tight, dreading the next moments of her life.
Her fears peaked when he screamed and she heard a heavy thud beside her. Opening her eyes slowly, she screamed when she saw the decapitated corpse of her assailant. Looking up, her eyes found her rescuer, the darkly dressed wanderer from earlier that day.
The sword he was wielding dripped a thick stream of crimson. His eyes had a fire in them she hadn't seen before. He turned his gaze to her and whispered a single order.
"Flee."
Struggling to stand, she saw two of the bandits close on the swordsman, revenge for their fallen brother gleamed in their eyes. The first brought down his axe in a downward slash meant to cleave the man in two. His partner to his left swung to the right, intent on catching their quarry when he dodged the first strike.
Shimanyo glared at this display as she sidestepped the first strike and into the second attack. The second bandit grinned in victory as the axe speed onward. The blade bit into flesh as blood spurt from the wound.
"Think yer tough eh? W-what?"
The bandit's axe had scored a fatal blow, on his friend. Kocoi smirked, his clothes slightly stained in his opponent's blood. He was crouched underneath the axe strike, blade held parallel to the ground.
At the last moment, he had ducked the horizontal strike, allowing the momentum to drive the heavier weapon into his other opponent.
"You call that a killing blow?"
He leveled the blade and thrust with his right hand. The bewildered bandit couldn't react quickly enough as the blade pierced and drew blood. The flat of the sword was face up and went in to the hand guard.
A putrid stench wafted through the air . . . bile. Kocoi switched to a reverse grip and yanked the sword sideways, the sharp edge cutting out the left side of the brigand's torso. The man fell dead; the young woman's jaw gaped at the violent spectacle.
The entrails from the recently slain assailant peaked out from the slash the traversed half-way through his body. The Sacaen blade was spotless; a ruined cloth lay at Kocoi's feet. His voice startled her, the dark traveler never turned to face her.
"What are you still doing here little one!" Frustration strained every word. "GO!"
She turned and ran, hastily thanking him for her life. The young maiden never saw him turn and smile with sad, golden honey yellow eyes. In his moment of blood lust, markings of ruby coloration had appeared on his forehead.
In the center, an x-shaped mark had materialized. Where the bottom lines ended, two equally long reversed arches branched out. In each crook of the x shape, lay a single dot which put together formed the shape of a diamond when connected to each other.
A burning pain shot through his head.
Falling to one knee, he placed his left hand over the mark. Images of two young women, one an archer on horseback without peer and the other, a priest of kindness and purity like no other flashed through his mind. Three men also flashed briefly through past his eyes. Each had one weapon of great power, but only two names returned to his mind.
Roland . . . Durandal.
The axe's wielder . . . the name wouldn't clear and the axe's image faded with one word coming back to memory.
Armads.
Durandal . . . Armads . . . the Sword of Sacred Fire and the Thunder Axe . . . why!
"AHHGGHHHHH!"
His scream of agonized pain drowned out the roar of fire and screams of villagers. A number of the looters changed their attention to the wandering swordsman. Three of the bandits threw axes, their spinning blades left several bleeding wounds, one across his chest and two on either one of his arms.
Their only archer, a warrior and their leader left two arrows in the pained wanderer's back and shoulder. His gaze fixed on them and their death's swiftly passed with a dance of glistening sword strokes.
"Mr. Kocoi!"
A young woman's voice reached his ears just as the sword in his hands cut down another axe-wielder, blood sprayed from the fatal wound. Elizabeth was running toward him, fear and worry covered her face. Just behind her, an axe fighter let loose a short axe.
"NO!"
He broke into a harsh sprint to the girl as the axe grew ever closer. Shoving her out of the way just a moment before the axe made contact; he took the brunt of the blow in the back as he tried to dodge the oncoming projectile. The axe stuck fast, his vision blurring for a several crucial seconds.
It came back into a horrid focus as the axe was pulled from its new found resting place. He latched onto the pain, focusing and combining it with his will. His speed increased dramatically, an after image fading into nothingness as slash marks materialized all over the brute before his head came off in several bloodied chunks; the body cut to ribbons.
The kind hearted girl was horrified at his wounds, sickened at his brutal killing strokes, and confused at the sudden change in the once gentle traveler. To her surprise and chagrin, he scooped her up and dumped her in a nearby well and half covered it.
"Stay there. You're better off not being with me. I . . ." his voice became more distant and morbid. "Attract too much attention."
After he had left her in that well, he had fought the last of the bandits, suffering four more gashes, three on the legs and one across the face, his left eye bled profusely.
He had made his way to the forests when the rain had started. Now he approached an unusually large clearing.
His vision failed him as the world became black; his body falling into a heap on the soaked earth. One name came to mind, even as his hearing told him that someone was there checking on him.
A face accompanied the name; eyes the same hue as his, long flowing azure hair, and markings similar to his cover her face.
Yanagi . . .
Somehow, he thought rain around him was appropriate as he thought of her.
Yanagi . . . Weeping Willow . . . just like the tree . . . and these are her tears . . .
Up Next: Sacaen Maiden Lyn
Will Kocoi succumb to the past? Does he even remember it? Awakening in the presence of a maiden of Sacae certainly isn't helping anything!
Those who are reading the AC fanfiction . . . that one's hit a road block. I'll get it updated by January at the latest.
I've been engrossed in Path of Radiance and it made me get out the GBA and play both Blazing Sword and Sacred Stones in order to get the artwork unlocked under the bonus features on PoR.
Astra's just freaking insane! Lucia's one beautiful swordmaster by the way.
She is a Path of Radiance character for those who may not know her.
Read and Review!
