Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem, all rights their respective owners
Leonster was liberated this morning, the regent in charge dead, the people celebrating and the sun just starting to peak across the blue skies aover the castle.
Yet for Count Dorias, he and his command were busy assembling whatever troops he could for a mission just about everyone knew was suicide, liberating Alster. Leif had given the order, so there was no questioning, Dorias' instructions then were to grab as few soldiers that could make what could be called a fighting force, and make sure their loss would not be a destructive one.
Assembled were about two thousand men and women who were not afraid to throw away their lives, though only a handful were trained professionals, knights or infantry of any kind, with nearly all the rest being little more than farmers, artists, retirees or plain militiamen with leather harnesses and dented bronze spears. Several disastrous campaigns stretching decades into the past had eroded the famous Leonster army every time, the Yied Massacre, the defection of Conote, the subjugation by the Empire, the failure of the Alster revolt, and most recently the retreat from Tahra; all had claimed some of their best fighters, so that all who remained were pink faced idealists or hardened veterans.
Here Dorias was inspecting the "troops" one last time before the impending battle in the south. "So much to learn, but so little time," Dorias cursed; Leif was hell bent on liberating Alster, and so was he, but the young prince did not seem to understand the gravity of their situation. Dorias stopped his pace in front of a wee lancer that was freckled across his face.
"What's your name, son?" The Count asked him, "Richter, from Tahra," he meekly replied, eyes nervously meeting Dorias'
The Count continued his inspection, the boy was visibly malnourished and tired, but with a definite fire to him; so as a test he asked the boy to raise his lance above his head. Richter tries, but his metal polearm proves too much, and he only hovers the shaft above his shoulder. Dorias shakes his head, and tells the boy to leave, saying in his state he would need to meet no warrior to fall in battle.
Richter breathes a sigh of relief once left, but also of sadness. After all it is the future of their nation they are fighting for, everyone from the sick to the able, to the young and the elderly have abandoned their quills, hammers and needles for swords, spears and bows; all for Leonster, for their homeland. There was also the slim chance that they might actually succeed, Dorias thought, hope is a powerful force for motivation, but also a catalyst for destruction.
August understood this better than anyone else, the Count admitted. While he himself was blinding by feelings of honour and dignity, the bishop was busy executing all the shrewd strategies a force like theirs needs to combat an Imperial force.
The Count meets one of his lieutenants, Laliah, a veteran Paladin in her later years and one of the scant few soldiers Leif's army has with them. The two share an unspoken conversation from a single glance, they both know their odds of success are slim, and that even if they succeed in taking Alster their projected losses are so great as to almost immediately undo whatever they succeeded in.
Laliah and Dorias and all of the other soldiers shared this sentiment, and when first given the order the Count thought briefly of throttling the Prince across the room and calling him an idiot for this insane ploy. But Dorias is no pragmatist, and he is also no hypocrite, for he knows of all the times he has sent countless people to their certain deaths, or made errors that have undone months of planning and execution.
Perhaps then it is fate that he is being sent to his death at Alster, that his mistake from all those years ago has finally come back to haunt him, the one he knew he was responsible for that could have changed everything. The citizenry, soldiers, and the Prince himself called him a hero, a natural leader for his actions, but only Dorias himself knew the truth, and his fear of death spoiled years of preparation; Blume found out, everyone fled, and the princess of Alster vanished off the face of the continent.
Dorias suspected that the loyal knight Finn knew, his looks towards him were that of distrust and enmity, he must have had some thoughts from those years ago, as it was Dorias himself that warned the knight to flee Alster, that the plot would fail and they would be implicated, they had to escape or everyone would be killed.
But thanks to his cowardice, the Count lived, and ever since then he had been obsessed with regaining the honour he threw away so casually.
Lost in his reminiscence, Dorias did not notice the bishop August approach him, August, the man who led Leif when he could not, who gave the advice he would once give, and whose dignity could never be tarnished as his was. He knew why he was here now, outside the range of the young prince and with a look half in anger and in disgust.
"You shouldn't go, you know this mission is suicide, just take the army outside the castle and I will tell the prince you have left for Alster" August pleaded to him.
The Count shook his head, "He won't learn without this. Leif leans on me, thinks of me as a hero, and places far too much on my shoulders. I must die so that the prince can truly become a leader." Dorias affirms.
August now appears even more perturbed, "You will send all those you have there to their graves! If not yourself think of them? Is this fair? Is this just?!" The Bishop loudly argues, drawing the attention of a few soldiers.
"I have gone through the lines, everyone here has someone to survive them, our deaths will have purpose, and you will have a martyr to truly unite the remaining peoples under," Dorias retorts.
"Do you want to die?" August asks of him.
"Yes."
And everything is set, in a few hours Dorias leads his two thousand militiamen, knights and citizen soldiers out of the castle. The moment he see the enemy front line Dorias gives the command to his fellow knights and they charge futilely, the remaining foot soldiers are deprived of any leadership, and in a panic they rapidly retreat, perhaps saving hundreds of lost souls.
He thinks he has redeemed himself, he wants to be granted that single selfish request.
A bolt of thunder strikes his chest, and it is all over.
Post: The revolt at Alster comes from Thracia 776's expanded works, in year 765 an assassination attempt on Blume's life was revealed, which forced Leif out of the country and into Frest, then Tahra, and finally Fiana.