Author's Notes: I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out, but as this is my first ever completed fanfiction, and my first piece of fiction writing in a long time, I hope to be able to come back to this a few months later and be able to correct the parts I'm unhappy about. Some notes about this piece of writing:

1) I wasn't very satisfied with Erk's supports in the game. None of them had really happy endings, and they were all romantic relationships, except for with Pent or Louise, and even then you can only get till B support. Since my tactician had a similar personality to his (she takes most of my character traits, but is more awesome. I normally like the characters who share some of my personality traits, as I can empathise with them), I figured out that they could be friends. The ending isn't very happy anyway, I don't know why I complain about unhappy endings but still write one myself.

2) The most probable time period is during Eliwood/Hector mode, I originally wanted it to take place during Lyn's mode so that Estelle could go to Etruria during her one year break, but I had already written too much of it before I came up with that, and I couldn't get the story sequence to fit.

3) Some of the anecdotes were probably unnecessary, but I want to show their relationship, and their personalities. I'm sorry if Erk or the other characters seem out of character, I'm not very good at writing fiction.

4) The title refers to both the beginning and the end.

5) I'm sorry if the way I wrote the ending parts seem rather detached and feeling-less.

Thanks for reading this, I know it's rather long, and hope you enjoy :)

Flames in the Dark

Anyone who saw the flicker amidst the circle of tents would have been surprised, for Estelle was particularly adamant about not lighting a campfire at night, insisting that light brought unwelcome visitors, and unwelcome visitors brought trouble. She went to great lengths to ensure that the army covered their tracks, and went to great lengths to set watches for the night. Today, however, the said tactician sat beside the campfire, bent over a thick volume.

Estelle squinted at the words that the dim light did not illuminate, frowning, irked that so much of her past was still shrouded in fog. She remembered the time she had spent as a child making notes on the history of Etruria, sketching maps of Elibe the best she could, puzzling over the documents that she had stolen from her the study. All that was lost to her, however, as she flipped through the volume, hoping that something, anything, would re-ignite her memory of the place she once called home.

"Erk," she said, looking up from the yellowed pages. The mage's eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, no doubt commiting everything on the page to memory, Estelle thought. She knew that Erk still doubted his ability to use staves, just as she doubted her ability to lead the army through one more battle without sustaining casualities. Just as she made up for it by studying every book about military tactics she could find in Erk's travelling library (which had expanded since Merlinus joined their party, she went with Erk on every book-hunting expedition every time they passed through a town, or even a village), he made up for it by reading late into the night. They were so alike, she thought sadly, both overshadowed by people they deemed much better in their areas of expertise themselves, both finding the consolation they needed in books and knowledge, both shutting out everyone else, and single-mindedly dedicating themselves to their causes.

Her fingers found the Heal staff she had adopted as her symbol of office. Estelle knew basic first aid, nothing more. She was more comfortable with using it to direct the army, and the comical sight of the slight tactician waving a staff almost her height had been the talking point among her troops for some time, she knew. Newcomers were still liable to pointing it out with amusement. It had come in useful once or twice, however, when another healer's staff had cracked from over-usage, or had been lost in battle. Now she held it out to Erk, who looked up, startled.

"Staves are a little short lately, perhaps you should take this," she said, knowing that it was partly because of her over-cautiousness, insisting that even a minor wound be healed immediately.

"Thanks," said Erk, acknowledging her with a nod, but not making a move to take the staff, knowing that she would not have disturbed him from his reading if not for something important.

"I was wondering - whether you could tell me about Etruria."

I awoke to the smell of grass and dew and the sight of a girl looking at her anxiously. "Are you awake? I found you awake on the plains."

I sat up and tried to make sense of my surroundings.

"I am Lyn of the Lorca tribe. You're safe now. Who are you? Can you remember your name?"

My name... I put a hand to my head. "I'm Estelle." That was the first name that came to mind, and I said it with more confidence than I felt.

"Estelle? What an odd-sounding name...but pay me no mind. It is a good name. I see by your attire that you are a traveller. What brings you to the Sacae Plains? Would you share your story with me?"

I shook my head to clear my mind of all the questions. A traveller? What was my purpose?

Lyn seemed to hear something outside, for she exited the house. I looked around her surroundings, noticing that it was more of a tent than it was a house. A hut, I supposed. I could scarcely remember anything that I had learnt about the nomads of Sacae, or indeed anything about myself at all.

"Bandits." Lyn looked terse. "They've come to lay waste to the surrounding villages. I've got to stop them!"

Another piece of puzzle was fixed in my mind. "Tactician. I'm a tactician - a strategist. I'll go with you."

~o~

It was not the sight of the purple-haired mage that reminded me of something of my past, it was the sound of his name. It somehow made me think of a place called Etruria. We did not have time to speak then, and I had watched him as streams of fire left his hand and were directed towards the enemy. It was obvious that he was lacking in experience, for he recoiled a little as the enemy slumped onto the ground, dead, but I admired his versatility as he attacked a helpless archer at close range, and then downed an enemy cavalier from a distance. He would be a valuable ally on the battlefield.

I had approached him after the battle, after directing Serra to heal his hurts, and watching him grimace as she laughed at something I could not comprehend.

"You're Lord Pent's student!" I blurted out, and immediately wondered why I had said that. I had originally intended to introduce myself as the tactician of the group, and inquire whether he might know anyone who bore my name, or if he was from Etruria, for that matter.

He nodded, his serious eyes reflecting bewilderment, and perhaps a hint of hurt, but it was gone quickly, and I was puzzled, wondering whether I had imagined it. "I am," he confirmed, "but I don't recognise you, Lady..."

"Estelle. I am a tactician," I said, hiding my disappointment.

A look of incredulity replaced his former bewilderment, but he hid it well behind his purple eyes. However, years of watching people had taught me to read their expressions, and he looked somewhat unsettled.

"Yes?" I prompted, eager for information. Was someone asking for me back at home?

"You are sharp," he said ruefully. "Though that may be what makes you such an admirable tactician. It is a strange thing, for a tactician bearing your name from the royal court of Etruria due to return a month ago has vanished without a trace, and had not returned ere I set off two weeks ago. We fear she has met with some danger. I would not have believed such coincidence possible."

"Does she look like me?" The words sprang to my lips and tumbled out in a rush before I could stop them, and I mentally berated myself for getting my hopes up. It was ludicrous, in the very extreme, to make such an assumption, as Erk's tone of voice suggested that he and the tactician were acquaintances at the very least, and there was no sign of recognition in the mage's eyes.

He seemed to read my thoughts. "No, you are not her, she is older than you by many years. Your eyes are the same colour, however, and that is strange, as green eyes are uncommon among Etrurians." He said the last line almost pityingly, but my eyes widened as a scene played in my mind, rather like rereading a long-forgotten passage from a book.

A few children are playing in the marketplace, pretending to battle with wooden swords.

"I won't be the bad guy! My father is an army general!" a little boy shouts, glaring at his companions with defiance. As usual, they are arguing over who to fight against, as no one wants to be on the enemy side, bringing the game to a halt.

"My father is a famed swordsman!" another boy protests as his playmates round on him.

A girl steps forward, a girl with green eyes and her hands crossed. "You have to play fair! You promised to take your turn, after I took mine at being bad last week, and my sister is the royal tactician!"

My sister – the royal tactician. The first name and profession I had remembered had been hers.

Erk glanced at her sideways. "You have to see Etruria to know what I am talking about, Estelle," he countered patiently. "How am I supposed to describe the magnificence of the raised marble pillars in the royal court? Or the beauty of the sound make by the water in the fountains? The anticipation when stepping into the royal library, where books as old as Elimine herself are housed?"

Estelle bowed her head, discouraged. Would the land she hailed from always remain a mystery to her? "I'm not even Estelle," she said hopelessly, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm not even a tactician, and every day I lead this army is another day lying to myself."

"You are. You're as good a tactician she was. Why do you berate yourself so?" He hesitated for a moment. "When the war is over you can return to Etruria with me. Lord Pent and Lady Louise would be pleased to see you, they were quite close to Est…your sister."

"And you?" she asked, somewhat sarcastically, noting the deliberate omission of her sister's name and wondering whether saying it out loud would have hurt as much. She could finally understand the hurt she had seen in his eyes the day she met him, known as no one but the student of his teacher – or the sister of the tactician. In that moment, she felt rather mean and small.

"I was beneath her notice," Erk said, trying to conceal the bitterness in his voice.

A rather long pause followed.

"I'm sorry," Estelle said, and she was. "I look forward to seeing Etruria, especially the library you mentioned, if the books there are really as old as you described."

"Lord Pent's library would do," he replied in mock seriousness. "I spent most of my sixteen years in there, and have only gotten through a fifth of the books."

~o~

As the tactician, she had a tent to herself, and she made use of the space by spreading maps of the surrounding districts all over the floor, held down by books. With a pencil, she marked out the paths that they could take, spots that the enemy would possibly choose for ambushes, possible camping locations and was just scanning the vicinity for places where they could stock up their supplies when she heard a slight disturbance outside her tent.

"Who's there?" Kent's voice was low, but threatening, and it was accompanied by the sound of a sword leaving its scabbard.

Estelle hardly had time to muse over the fact that Kent always seemed to be on guard duty when Erk replied, "I have something to tell the tactician." A moment later, a hand pushed her tent flap back, and she found Erk staring down at her, and at her maps occupying every corner of the relatively empty tent.

"I'm sorry for disrupting your thoughts," he said as she cleared a space for him and folded the unneeded maps neatly.

"And I'm sorry for keeping you awake, Erk," she replied, already having a good idea about what this visit was about. He waved her apologies away and took a seat in the map-free spot.

"You're awake as well," he pointed out, before opening a thick volume that went so well with him she had seen no need to question its presence. "Though I have found nothing about the magic seal we faced the last time, I have discovered a similar branch of magic that existed close to a thousand years ago." He bent over the page. "A magic-wielder, having cast such a powerful spell over himself or herself, then became virtually invincible, but by doing so, much of his or her energy is drained, and he or she will not be able to retaliate in the event his or her defence is breached. Which is highly unlikely, as the spell reduces the opposing magic user's ability to cast critical spells. This, however, defers greatly from what we experienced that day, as the magic seal that day was not only able to block, but also able to repel, and prevent, spells from being cast."

Estelle nodded. "Does it say how the magic-wielder can be defeated?" she asked, worries already present in her mind. In the event that their enemy had more than one magic seal, all their magic-using allies, including the healers, would be useless on the battlefield, and that was not a very encouraging thought.

"Powerful, long range magic," Erk replied, "which we do not have at our disposal now. The spell increases defence as well, but drains resistance, seeing as resistance to magic is not needed at all."

"Do you think you could learn to cast long-range spells? Have you seen it done before?"

"Lord Pent used to experiment with those, but you have to be exceptionally skilled at magic even to attempt it. Besides, tomes are needed, and those tomes are notoriously unreliable."

"I'm sure you can do it, Erk," Estelle said encouragingly. "Thank you for taking the time to find out, the information was very useful."

"Thank you for entrusting the task to me," he replied, "and my apologies for not being able to do it better, or help you more."

~o~

After Nergal was cast down, finally, by a spell from Lucius, she was relieved that not a single member of her army had perished because of a wrong decision on her part, something she had lived in constant fear of since day one. She felt weary, exceedingly weary, suddenly, wearied of battle and of blood and violence, and she looked towards Erk, who had stepped forward to heal Lucius with his staff of his own volition, and imagined going back to her homeland with the best friend she had ever known by her side. The thought made her smile quietly.

There was a roar, and a burst of fire, and they had suddenly found themselves surrounded by dragons. Too stunned, and too frightened, to talk, everyone had just stared as they feared for their lives. Then Ninian repelled all of them but one, and had fallen of exhaustion in the process. The one now loomed over them, anger and hatred and frenzy in its eyes. Estelle remembered feeling mounting disbelief, and her eyes had been drawn to its hide, knowing that it needed more than a sword-stroke or lance-stroke to be felled, or many of that matter. Then she saw the dragon roar with a rage that surpassed the imagination of mortal men, before turning upon the person closest to it and directing a stream of fire towards him.

Erk, who only seconds ago had stepped forward to heal Lucius, happened to be in the path of the flames.

Everyone watched, unable to tear their eyes away from the horrific scene playing out before them, yet powerless to do anything to help, as the ball of the dragon's fury crashed right into Erk and threw him backwards. He got to his feet, staggering, and brought down his arm in the gestures that Estelle had already memorized from the thousands of times watching him repeat the motions, and this reminded Estelle of the first time they had met, the first time she had seen him cast a spell and knock an opponent down with fire. She almost laughed with bitter irony at the reversal of roles.

The spell had not done much damage, but the dragon howled with pain and new ferocity and sent another fireball hurtling towards Erk. Estelle did not remember screaming as she ran towards her ally, her companion, her friend, but she did remember the look on his face as blisters opened on his skin, as he doubled over in agony and fell on the floor unmoving. She held him in his arms and called for a healer, called for anyone at all who could help, and finally fell to her knees when she realized that he was beyond help. "Please, St Elimine, help him, I'll do anything, I'll give up my life, let him live…" She hardly cared that the battle was not over, hardly cared when Athos stepped forward to smite the dragon with his staff, hardly cared that she could die should the dragon, or should she say, that beast, take note of her presence.

"Es…telle…" he whispered her name, and then she was crying, letting her tears fall freely onto his face.

"Erk, I…" she choked, unable to go on.

"Don't…cry…for me…go…to…Etr…ur…ia…find…home…" Erk was gasping now, his breathing shallow and ragged. "You…only…friend I…ever knew…thank….you…Estel…"

And then he was gone.

The dragon fell with a final shriek of anguish.

His hands were cold as Estelle clutched them, crying without abandon. "You were…you are my best friend, Erk, don't leave me, remember what we were…what we are going to do after the war?" Pent hurried up, followed by Louise, and both of them knelt by their foster son's side as everyone bowed their heads, but Estelle continued to sob into Erk's red cloak.

~o~

She made her way to Etruria with Louise and Pent, and saw her grief at Erk's fall reflected in their eyes. Their sorrow only intensified her guilt at failing to keep Erk safe, why did she let her guard down after Nergal's death, why did she not hurry to Erk's aid sooner, why did she not order them to slay it immediately…

She rejected food and spent her nights sitting in her tent, her tears staining the pages of the books that now fell into her ownership. And when she had no more tears, no more strength to go on, she fell into nightmare-filled sleeps, which invariably featured the dragon smiting Erk to the floor, Erk's glares of accusation as he drifted in and out of death, and ended with her screaming until she woke.

One night, she dreamt of Erk's final words, and the way he had pronounced the last word, the word she had interpreted as her name. "Estel…" He hadn't meant to say her name. He had meant 'estel', which meant hope, the word which her name was derived from. He had been telling her to have hope.

The nightmares stopped after that, and after they had reached Etruria, she, and her achievements, had been introduced to the court and she was offered the position of royal tactician. She had declined, and had, instead, visited her old house, and after settling her sister's affairs, moved in with Pent and Louise. They had adopted her as their foster daughter, perhaps out of obligation because of her sister, perhaps to cope with their loss of Erk, for everyone had privately agreed that the two shared many character traits.

Estelle wandered through Lord Pent's library, shelving the books that she and Erk had amassed on their journey and sorting them by subject. It was tedious work, and as she slotted the books into their respective shelves she observed the small, tidy handwriting that made amendments to some of the labels. A handwriting that she would recognise in her sleep. Her work took her to a remote corner of the sprawling room, and she noticed a smaller room hidden away behind particularly large shelves. It was plainly furnished, with only a bed, a chest of drawers, a desk and a single chair. The drawer slid open without effort at her touch, and it was half filled with pieces of paper that bore Erk's handwriting – his notes, Estelle realized. The table had several long stains of candle-wax, stains that its owner did not even bother to hide. The image of Erk, his head bent over a book, sitting by the campfire, came unbidden into her mind, and Estelle smiled slightly, realizing where he had cultivated the habit.

Tomorrow she would ask for another chair, and they will spend their nights, reading.