Pro Aris et Focis

by Godgifu

Silia Hartwood has lived many crucial years in her life: in M.E. 732 her father was killed by the Niffs; in M.E. 739 she moved to the Crown City; in M.E. 741 she decided to join the new Kingsglaive army. But when she returns to Insomnia without her right leg at the end of M.E. 755 she doesn't know that the most crucial year of all is yet to come.

1. Prologus - SH014S6

Disclaimers/Warnings: This is my first fanfiction in English - as you'll all probably notice, I am not a native speaker. Suggestions and advices are of course more than welcome.
I tried to follow the original events as far as I could, slighty diverging from Parting Ways; the story, however, is going to take quite a different path right after the end of Chapter 13, and will change the outline depicted in Comrades.
I hope you'll enjoy it.

Update: previous and future chapters will now beta-read by brightspot149. Thank you very much!

PRO ARIS ET FOCIS

PROLOGUS
M.E. 755

I

Silia opened her eyes. A ceiling stained with mold and moisture welcomed her back to the living world. She tried to remember how she had come there, waiting for her numbness to retreat like waves on the foreshore, but it did not happen. Her mouth was dry, and she had a faint but persistent ringing in her ears.

Morphine, she understood, and that first shiny thought uncovered a well of fragmented images. A jormungand. The imperial army had summoned a fucking jormungand. I can't stay here. I've got to go back to fight. She tried to lay on her side, but she could hardly move her head and fingers. I failed the warp. The blood. Thomas. I must...

II

"Silia."

Again the ceiling stained with mold and moisture. Pain. Her right leg was in a hell of a lot of pain. She tried to scream, but only a prolonged braying came out from her mouth. It didn't even sound like her voice.

"More morphine, hurry!"

No. "No!" She managed to sat up. She threw up, almost choking. Someone turned her on her side and held her head down while she coughed, struggling to breathe.

"Where's that fucking morphine?"

"No. No." She stretched her arms toward the white coat in front of her. She managed to grab the edge and pulled it. "No more morphine."

"Silia, stay down!" It was Sarah's voice. She was holding her head.

"No!" she shouted, and her voice came out clearer. "What the fuck hap...?" She didn't want other morphine. She wanted to know what the fuck was happening.

Thomas. The jormungand. Niflheim. She felt the pressure of a needle into her thigh, but only the pressure, because the pain in her leg, that atrocious pain, was all she could think of. Silia clung to that pain to avoid fainting again.

"What the fuck happened...?" she whispered. The pain slowly went down. She felt her senses fading away again. The hem of the white coat slipped away from her hand. She could still hear Sarah's voice, or maybe it was her mother's, but she couldn't understand what she was saying.

III

An iron cart with bloodied instruments stuffed on the top shelf. A folding screen that once must have been white. Silia blinked and moved her lips. Thirst. She was thirsty. She had to remember. The jormungand. Thomas. The failed warp. Niflheim.

The white coat again. Beige trousers. She waved a hand in his direction, and the beige trousers approached. This time she recognized him.

"Dr. Emblyn," she whispered. The beige pants lowered and became a familiar face. Horn-rimmed glasses, dark eyes with dark circles, hard mouth. The doctor laid his hand on her face - she barely felt his touch -, lowered her right eyelid and pulled out a flashlight that pointed at her pupil. He did the same with her left eye. Then he lay his wrist on her forehead.

"The temperature's still high" he said, to her or to someone else in the room, holding his face at her level. "How are you feeling, Hartwood?"

"I don't know," she said in a breath. "You tell me."

Dr. Emblyn got up. "You have to rest, Hartwood. You went into a hemorrhagic shock and remained senseless for two days."

"The jormungand...?"

"Don't think about it now. Are you feeling any pain?"

"No. I can't feel anything."

"Good thing. Get some more rest." He moved to leave.

"No!" she tried to call him back. "Doc. Please." She found out that she was able to move a little. She grabbed the iron headboard, kicked to push herself – she almost couldn't feel her legs – and struggled to sit up. The room started whirling around her and yellow lights flashed in the corner of her eyes, but she held on and she managed not to faint.

"Hartwood, stay down!" the doctor replied with a loud voice. He returned to her bedside. "You must not force yourself."

"Tell me what happened."

"Not now."

Despite her weakness and dizzyness, Silia got pissed off. "Doctor Frank Emblyn, do not forget who I am. You might be a military doctor, but I outrank you. I demand to know what happened and what my current conditions are."

The long speech tired her. She was weezing. Dr. Emblyn looked at her with an expression that she didn't like at all – was he pitying her? – and she liked even less his lacking of a retort.

She left the board with a hand and removed the blanket to get up.

"Hartwood...".

Her left leg, bruised and torn, was there. Of her right one remained just a bandaged stump above her knee. She found herself at a loss, and she had to cling to the headboard with both her hands again. She felt her beating accelerating, a scream crawling up her throat. "What the fuck did you do to my leg?"

"Hartwood, your leg was lost when your comrades brought you here. I saved what I could."

"What the fuck did you do to my leg?"

"Hartwood, settle down or I'll be forced to sedate you."

"Where's Thomas? What happened to the jormungand?"

"Silia!" Sarah came in into the infirmary. With her ears buzzing, Silia turned to her.

"Sarah. Look at what... what they did to my leg. How can it be? I can't fight anymore, Sarah. Where is Thomas? What happened to the jormungand?"

"Relax, Silia." Sarah's voice was calm. She sat on the edge of the bed and caressed her hair. She hasn't done that for years. "Calm down."

"Hartwood." Captain Drautos himself entered the infirmary. Sarah stiffened and stood up to make the salute. His presence convinced Silia that she had to be senseless,

thankfully, she said to herself, it's a nightmare, I'll wake up and my leg will be still there.

"Captain," she heard Dr. Emblyn protest, "I mean no disrespect, but Hartwood is extremely weak. This is not the time for..."

"Dr. Emblyn, Hartwood is a Kingsglaive. She has been trained to fight a war since she was thirteen."

It was not a nightmare. She wasn't dreaming, and she had lost a leg. She looked at Captain Drautos, but she couldn't loose the grip to the headboard to salute.

The Captain stopped in front of the bed, crossed his arms and allowed himself a brief sigh. "Hartwood, we lost Fort Dornar. Five jormungands. We had to retreat."

Silia nodded. Five. She bowed her head. "I apologize, Captain."

"Don't, Hartwood, if there is a responsibility here, that's your Captain's. I underestimated their forces. There have been many losses. Leah Marcellus. Lamiel Melias. Brian Gauter. Cardok Kay. Melion Coster. And more: David Dorcas, Edith Ellie, Foxe Galfris... and Thomas Kurtz."

For Astrals' sake. Silia leaned her forehead against the iron board. Her leg was gone, and Thomas was dead.

"Hartwood, you wanted to know, now hear me out. That jormungand tore apart your right leg. There was nothing to do except saving what could be saved. I can understand your dismay, but you've been luckier than many of your comrades."

"No, that's not true," she let out. "I can't fight anymore, Captain. What can I do with one leg? It would have been better off dead devoured by that daemon."

The Captain stared at her for a long moment, then he turned to Sarah and said with stern voice, "Helias, go back to your comrades. Reassure them that Hartwood has regained consciousness and she's polemic as ever. Doctor, you can get out now. I want to talk for a few minutes alone with Hartwood."

Sarah touched her hand while getting up. She went out with the doctor. Silia was not sure she would hold on any more.

"Hartwood," the Captain sighed. "Not all the Kingsglaives face such a circumstance twice. Seven years ago I encouraged you to hold on and keep your position, but this time, I understand, you suffered a serious mutilation. But it's not over. As I told you once, we don't throw away the members of our military elite as if they were broken tin soldiers. There are technicians in Insomnia who develop state-of-the-art implants and specialized recovery centers. It will take months, but you will be operational again."

"I will, but in what conditions?" she asked. She was about to cry or faint, and she hoped it was the latter case.

"This will depend on you, Hartwood. Start with following Dr. Emblyn's suggestions and get your strength back. As soon as you're able to travel, I'll have you back to Insomnia and transfer to a specialized clinic. Don't doubt, you won't be inactive. You will be on active duty supporting the city guard. When the military doctors will judge you adequate again, you will come back to the frontline. But it won't be easy, Hartwood, I warn you. The rehabilitation will be slow and painful. You will be allowed to retire at any time."

Silia laid her eyes in her forearm, pretending to wipe the sweat from her forehead, but actually she wanted to hide tears of relief. It was not over. How slow and painful could the recovery be? She had to endure five years of training and almost ten on the frontline. "And being a war invalid?" she murmured. "No way. I want to get back to fight."

Captain Drautos made half a smile, satisfied. It did not happen often. "I didn't expect anything less from you, Coeurl. Now stop grabbing that headboard as if your life depended on it and rest."

Silia nodded, and slipped down. Captain Drautos' footsteps had not yet been waned when she lost the senses entirely.

---

SILIA HARTWOOD
SH014S6

Place and date of birth: Ambrosia, M.E. 728
Eyes: green
Hair: dark brown
Distinguishing marks: none

M.E. 741
Age: 13
4,9" x 92 lbs

The subject is selected by Captain Titus Drautos as adequate to undertake the training. Strong motivation. Her father died during the seizure of Ambrosia. Living mother. Run to Insomnia in M.E. 739 because of frictions with the occupation garrison.
Strong predisposition to the use of magic.

M.E. 746
Age: 18
5,1" x 110 lbs
Training completed with the highest marks.

The subject is declared adequate for combat at the end of the five-year training and assigned to Squad 6 of the Kingsglaive Army.
The subject is penalized by slim build and lack of physical prowess. She compensates with exceptional agility and flexibility. Gifted with great intuition, the subject demonstrates readiness to evaluate the situations of danger and to act accordingly.
Unstable discipline. 9 reprimands for disorders and insubordination (see attachments).
The subject is reliable and fit to work in team, but proud, impertinent and easy to being prodded.
Technical skills in the use of white weapons: excellent. Favorite weapons: twin swords, daggers, one-handed swords.
Technical skills in the use of blunt weapons: standard.
Technical skills in the use of throwing weapons and firearms: standard.
Magical skills: excellent. The subject masters perfectly any kind of offensive and defensive magic.
Tactical skills: standard.
Suggested position: median (magic cover, ready to advance on the front line if needed).

M.E. 755
Age: 27
5,1" x 105 lbs

The subject confirms herself as a prominent member in the Kingsglaive Army.
See notes below.

Notes M.E. 748 – February, 7
A serious injury affects the continuation of the subject's active duty (see medical report in attachment). Prognosis: three months. The subject refuses to withdraw from the frontline to undergo therapy and rehabilitation.

M.E. 748 – April, 14
The subject, despite the opposite medical opinion, demands to return to active duty. Permission granted.

M.E. 749 – March, 13
The subject contests Captain's decision to retire from the Larre Plain (being the city of Bors, occupied for sixteen days, declared lost). The subject volunteers to infiltrate the sewer to perform a sabotage operation. Permission granted. The subject frees the civilians who have been kept prisoner by the occupation garrison and destroys the cannons on the walls. Thanks to the subject's intervention, the city of Bors is regained. An honorable mention and a reprimand for insubordination are assigned to the subject (see attachment).

M.E. 751 – August, 8
An honorable mention is assigned to the subject for her key role in rescuing Squad 3, which was cut off during the retreat following the Battle of Langhore.

M.E. 752 – January, 2
An honorable mention is assigned to the subject for preventing an ambush performed by Division 17 of the Tenebrae Army.

M.E. 753 – October, 6
An honorable mention is assigned to the subject for saving n. 12 civilians in Farah. At the same time, the subject is reprimanded for disobeying the retreat order.

M.E. 755 – October, 11
The subject is seriously injured (see medical report in attachment). The subject is offered to leave the active duty definitively without dishonor. The subject refuses. Three days later, her return to Insomnia is arranged to implant a prosthesis at the Military Prosthetic Center, in order to replace her right leg. The subject commits to undergo the subsequent rehabilitation at the same Military Prosthetic Center and to provide active support to the City Guard as soon as her physical conditions will allow it.
The subject commits, as soon as the designated military doctor considers it appropriate, to return to her duty on the frontline.

Dossier updated on October, 19 - M.E. 755