Riku: Hi… um… This is the first fic that I've submitted… so I'm sorry if I did anything wrong. Well, this story is based on characters from the video game, Fire Emblem, and really isn't a Super Smash Bros fic… they just didn't have a Fire Emblem category. I'm sorry if this chapter is boring, but this all leads up to the REAL story. Be patient! ^_^ I had to let you know the characters, their ambition, and their personality first. I hope you enjoy!
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Whether we win or lose depends on whether we live or die. We fight to win, we win by ending the war. Battle after battle wages on through mist and rain as we strive to prevail. The evil of war clenches us all, ripping, shredding at our very existence.
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Blood showered, glistening in the suns rays, and splattered against the musty earth. The uproar of a battle raged in the mere morning light.
"Don't let them through the Barrier!" A blue-haired youth shouted. The mighty Barrier stood firm, though now seeming fragile in this onslaught.
They fought; crying, screaming. Hundreds of soldiers fired a hook shot into the grimy walls and were propelled to the top.
The blue-haired warrior switched his gaze to an enemy who had reached the top. The warrior was at him in one swift movement, his cape flapping in the wind. He cut through his opponent, the fresh blood escaping in wisps of crimson. His form was perfect as he swept along the parapet, eliminating each foe that challenged his sword.
His expression remained firm, neither bloodlust nor guilt in his cerulean eyes. Even as the blood of his enemies stained his face and armor, he remembered that he was a warrior; determined, confident, and dignified. However, his desires surpassed those of the battlefield. The glint in his eyes revealed his longing to be elsewhere.
"They're retreating!" A soldier bellowed across the field. A heavy sigh escaped the young warrior and his muscles relaxed. The battle had ended. They emerged victorious.
* * *
After the battle, the warriors settled back into the barracks. The young man ventured through the forts, still tainted with the stench of battle.
"Prince Marth!" A man's voice called from behind him. An older man, with a ragged cloak, came staggering up to his side, gray beard hanging in messy tangles.
Marth turned to face him, "Oji-san..."
The old man waited before he was closer and inquired, "How was the battle?"
"Victorious..." Marth answered, almost lethargic.
"You sound so displeased, my boy," Oji-san stated. "Perhaps you need your rest." His eyes shifted to Marth's bloody cheeks.
"Hai..." He looked away, gazing at the red and orange sunset.
"What troubles you?"
"... I... I grow weary of this war, the familiarity of it all." He shifted his weight restlessly and his eyes turned back to the old man.
"Hai, but you must stand firm, my boy. For your country."
"Hai." He turned away again, this time meaning to leave. "Live true and sound, my friend." Though as he walked away, those words seemed apathetic to the true meaning.
"As should you, my boy."
* * *
"The Barrier..." A man's voice began.
A meeting was held in the commanders quarters later that day. Marth had cleaned himself up and was now wearing more suitable attire for this assembly.
"Can the Barrier prove strong enough to hold back these scoundrels?" The man asked. He was older, maybe in his thirties, and didn't seem the nicest of men.
"Freu, do you really believe those vermin would even dare penetrate our barrier?" Another man inquired. "Do you question the power of our country?" A slight smirk on his lips.
"Deraak," Freu began, facing the other. "I'm just proposing that our enemy could find means of overcoming the Barrier's power. Perhaps even our country."
"For shame, you slimy...!"
"Unisai," Marth snapped firmly. "Must we spite each other with these childish taunts?"
The two looked down ashamedly.
"I find it humorous what we call our opponents; vermin, scoundrels … For all we know, they live civil lives. Today, these "scoundrels", scaled our Barrier like it was a game. They are very capable of overcoming and winning this war."
"Prince Marth..." Deraak began, hesitant and desperate. "Surely you understand that..."
"I am out on the battlefield while you lounge around, questioning our power. I understand that we need to initiate a frontal attack, weakening our enemies before they can strike again." Marth stood. "Meeting adjourned." He marched from the conference room, his cape flowing.
"Prince Marth...!"
Marth didn't look back.
"Prince Marth..." Oji-san intersected his path, standing before him solemnly.
Marth paused and gazed sternly at the old man.
"Why didn't you send word to the congress concerning the outcome of the battle?"
Marth placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, "There's a scent of betrayal in this empire. I don't trust anyone."
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"Roy!" Came a voice that echoed through the hall. "Roy-san!"
Up the stairs in a dark room, laying on a cot, was a boy with messy auburn hair. His eyes opened wearily and he looked to the side, his blue eyes sparkling from the tears of sleep.
The door flew open and a young boy made his way to the cot. His red eyes sparked eagerly and his dark brown hair fell around his face rather neatly.
"Roy-san," The boy began. "You must be getting up now, sir."
Roy yawned, stretching with his entire body. The blanket fell to his hips as he sat up, revealing his bare chest.
"Morning, Kaito-chan," Roy uttered between yawns.
"Roy-san, I have news of the war, sir."
Roy sighed indolently and leaned back, his head resting gently on his palm.
"I've gotten word that Altea is in preparation for a frontal attack on our kingdom, sir."
"Nani?! How did you get this information?"
"From an... underground source. We have many among them. They commit treason without a second thought, sir."
"Shit!" Roy cursed, looking down in disgust. He turned back to Kaito solemnly. "Gather the Union."
* * *
For months now, the two countries have been at war, fighting over land and freedom. Altea had declared war when Pharae refused to sign a territorial agreement. Altea wanted more land, subduing Pharae, crushing the free land. Roy had fought in many battles for his country's freedom, but neither side seemed to be gaining any ground in this fresh war. Roy pondered this, knowing that they were far from the end, as the conflict had just begun.
"Commander Roy," A man's voice called. Roy had been ambling through the terrace of the fort, thinking and gazing around the camp.
He stopped to salute the soldier, smiling, "Mornin', Gregory. Please, just call me Roy."
Gregory chuckled, "That's just like you. Humble and spirited."
Roy placed a hand behind his head bashfully, "Nah..." He laughed sheepishly.
"Commander Roy," Called a soldier from behind. "The assembly is ready, sir."
The Union had gathered around the site, in order to discuss the latest news. The men and women of the Union sat around a campfire in the center of the fort. Roy reclined against a boulder casually, his expression solemn as he stared at the flames of the fire.
"We'd stand no chance against a frontal strike on our empire," A grave woman warrior said uneasily. "We don't have a strong security right now. If we were to fight head on, we'll surely be defeated."
"Even if we were to concentrate on defense alone..."
They fell silent.
"Commander Roy..."
They all turned to Roy, waiting for a reply from their leader. Roy had his head down as he sat casually with the hilt of his sword protruding upward, where his left hand rested.
Roy looked up, "As long as we have hope, we'll never lose." Roy bounced to his feet. "Together we'll win this war!" He raised his fist in the air triumphantly.
"The kid's got spirit," Someone said, laughing.
Roy pouted, "I'm not a kid!" It seemed he had been teased about this before.
The soldiers laughed together, even Roy chuckled at his own response.
"The commander's right," A soldier piped up.
Roy placed a hand on his hip and gazed off into space, "We jus' need a plan."
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