My first FE4 story!
I don't know much about the game, but after seeing a Battle of Barhara vid I couldn't help but write this!
Please tell me if I made any mistakes in the plot flow.
Edits and Changes:
I changed Deidre's name back to Diadora (it sounds better).
However, Sigurd was not changed to Siglud.
Dislclaimer: Don't own FE4.
"I hereby sentence you to death for you acts of treason. No visits to the king today, Sigurd."
Wait, what?
Sigurd's voice got caught in his throat. This conversation with Alvis had just taken an immediate turn around, and he was sure, already, that something was wrong with this picture. Even though it had been all right before.
He and his army had just defeated Leptor, and it was expected that his group was supposed to rendezvous at Barhara for a celebration with the king, Alvis, and the Royal Guard. After a smooth chat with General Aida, Sigurd expected his conversation with Alvis to go just as well, as he lined up at the head of his army.
And it did. Until Alvis decided to bring up the treason issue, again.
Sigurd found his voice and nearly shouted, "Wh-what? Lord Alvis, what is the meaning of this!"
"Heh heh…" Alvis began to circle Sigurd, staring up at him. Though Sigurd was higher above the ground than Alvis himself, he felt on top of the world just thinking about what he was about to do. "You're just now catching on? I'm afraid you're far too late, my friend. You and your father plotted to usurp the throne. That hasn't changed. As the husband of Princess Diadora, I must subdue you." He gave a smirk and stopped in front of the blue-haired lord's horse. "Nothing personal, Sigurd."
"Princess Diadora?" Sigurd stopped processing Alvis's words at that name. That Alvis was her husband. Was he lying? He thought she was…"Wait a minute. That'd be…"
Alvis chuckled. "You didn't know? I suppose an introduction would be in order before you depart this world." He turned away from Sigurd toward the castle to the south. "Diadora, come!"
A young woman walked slowly from the castle with a mage guard behind her. Her lavender hair swayed in the midday wind as she grew closer to Alvis. Her eyes clouded, she gingerly took Alvis's hand and stared up at him. Sigurd tensed at this, his blood mixed with fury and even confusion.
Alvis gently turned Diadora to face Sigurd. He ran his hand through his red hair and told the princess, "Diadora, this is the son of the man who murdered your father. It's Lord Vylon's son, Sigurd. Go ahead," he cooed in her ear, "tell him how you feel."
She looked up at the blue haired knight, voice shaking when she said, "… This is… … Sir Sigurd?"
"Wha-? Diadora! This can't be!" Sigurd's voice rose with only pure anger now. This was his wife. His wife. Not Alvis's. He stared into her eyes. Why was she acting so disoriented?
"…Why…Why are you speaking to me like that?" Diadora knew this man. Something in the back of her mind was screaming Say something else! but another part was shouting You're with Alvis now. She bit her lip hard, her mind caught between two conflicting memories.
"Diadora!" Sigurd screamed. "It is you! Aaagh!" How dare you, Alvis… his mind screamed.
"Do you… …know me?" Diadora blinked. Wait, maybe she didn't know him, this Sigurd. Did she? With Sigurd's screaming, she couldn't imagine knowing someone like that.
"OF COURSE I DO! YOU'RE…"
"That'll be enough from you." Alvis said through gritted teeth, willing Sigurd to be slient. "Diadora, take a step back. This man is dangerous. He is guilty of treason and is to be punished."
"But I…" Diadora began to back up, not of her own will. "This person is…Please, just a little more time."
Alvis narrowed his eyes at the princess. He couldn't afford for a heartfelt reunion now. "I don't think so." He pointed at the mage who had brought her over. "Quick! You escort the princess away from here."
As the mage took her hand and led her away, she begged, "Wait! Alvis, please… just a little longer."
He gave her a dismissive look and shooed her away with his hand. His plan was almost done and over. He didn't want Diadora to get in the way.
As she followed obediently down the castle path, Sigurd shouted in anguish, "Wa, wait! Diadora! Alvis, please! That woman… she's…" That aura of terrible events was back again. What was…
"That'll be enough!" Alvis shouted, removing his Falaflame tome from inside his cloak. He gave a loud menacing laugh. It was over. Over. Sigurd would be no more… "Alright troops," he announced to the Royal Guard surrounding the blue-haired lord and his army, "Seize Sigurd and his party. We no longer need to keep them alive. Let them serve their sentence right here!"
Sigurd felt relieved, angry and sad at the same time. He would have no more army, no wife, and no more life on Judgral. All three he could blame Alvis for. Swallowing his pride, he gave a last shout of anger hurled directly at his red-haired enemy.
"Alvis! YOU DASTARD!"
And all at once, the mages of the Royal Army recited the words for the Meteor spell. It was so ominous, so eerie, that he felt chilled inside. But then the sky burst into a flaming red and large meteors, as expected, hurled down from the sky behind Sigurd. The cries of many behind him filled his mind and chilled him to the bone. His army would all die. And he could do nothing about it. He had failed as a person to protect his army… his country…
Alvis turned to Sigurd with a wicked smile on his face. Tome in hand, he was thoroughly excited about the event about to take place. Sigurd would die, he would rule as emperor. He just had to say a few words…
"Arise, flame of the night. Engulf the one that stands before me. Obliterate him and all of his very being! Falaflame, descend from the heavens!"
Alvis raised his hand to the sky. A sparkle that seemed like a red star twinkled brightly, and then sent a red engulfment of flame down directly on Sigurd's head. Alvis laughed, loudly, evilly, darkly. It was done.
Sigurd screamed as the flame engulfed him, making his vision a bright red. The fire seared his clothes off and cut straight to his skin, turning it first orange then charred black. Sigurd could do nothing. Nothing. He was done for….
Diadora...Diadora, I'm sorry...
And Sigurd left the Earth, spirit fleeting away to a pathway above.
Alvis smirked in satisfaction. It was his turn now to call the shots. The Battle of Barhara is over, he thought. Let a new age begin!
Sigurd's story was quickly forgotten to the people.
However the legend still lives on in the hearts of those who survived Barhara, of those who remember.
The group fought with passion and loyalty, and their ambitions lie strewn across the battlefield of Barhara…
It was not all in vain…
And the light…